The Mausoleum

You manage to unlock the main doors and remove what barriers you had placed in front of them to re-enter the mausoleum.
Daylight enters the chamber as you open the doors and everything seems to be exactly how you left it. The everburning torches light up the vault room down the stairs.

Attached Images

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Rulet will take the lead heading into the Mausoleum trying to be as stealthy as possible.

Outside, Arial seems to have added a few pouches to her belt and her backpack looks a tad more bulkier than it was yesterday.

Chewing hungrily on some crispy pork scratchings Arial nods in greeting to everyone offering a variety of flasks for anyone to take as they enter the Mausoleum.

"Good Mornin' sleepy heads... I got flasks of Oil, Acid and Holy Water... pick your poison... OK Stilgar, you can have the Holy Water my friend..." Arial says with a smile, handing Stilgar a glass flask of clear liquid.

Liarra nodded at Arial cordially enough as she packed away her gear in preparation for the trek downwards into the tomb. Seeing Rulet slip away into the darkness, she followed behind.

Her order's propensity for lack of arms and armor means she moves as quietly as Rulet, the soles of her boots lined in soft leather that muffles her every step. She indeed even outdoes the thief, but makes no attempt to stay hidden. She'll attack at the first sign of an enemy.

Move Silently

Leading the way, the monk brings everyone back to the door that they had stopped at the day before. Once there, she defers to Lady Dana for a decision.

"Let's go back down to the lower level," Dana advises. "Part of me believes there's more to the layout of this crypt than we see. Perhaps a secret door or some sort of hidden passage will be uncovered. It would explain why the town watch hasn't seen as much activity about the cemetery than one would expect from what has transpired so far."

You make your way down to the vaults. It appears nothing has stirred here since last evening and other than the way you came in, there is but one door. To the east.

Arial follows with her loaded crossbow in one hand and her blue flaming everburning torch in the other.

The young wizardress took a bit of a look around, just to make sure nothing had moved from the last time she was here. Kicking the burnt remains of the zombies she had set alight as she departed last time. Satisfied, Arial gives a wary thumbs up to anyone looking her way.

"Secret doors and hidden rooms... hmmmm... I have a spell for that, however it's only a one shot deal so we had be pretty confident. Lets keep that idea in the back of our minds as we search this place..." Arial suggests as she catches up with the others.

Rulet examines (19) the door, seeing if it was sealed shut or can be opened normally.
If he deems the door safe he will let someone sturdy open the door.

Stilgar Tuek

Anything but quietly, Stilgar clatters his way down the steps and into the room. He returns Arial's thumb's up with a weak grin, and pats the belt pouch he slipped the holy water into with a nod. Belatedy, he realises that there might be more trouble in here and pulls his axe free of it's sheathe.

"Fharlanghn only knows what we'll find down here - but I guess we'd better get to finding it before it finds us." Despite the bold words, the Dwarf looks anything but, as he tentatively steps toward the door, tripping himself up on some rubble along the way, straightens, and finally manages to try the closed door (assuming it passes Rulet's inspection).

Rulet finds the door is unlocked and apparently not trapped either. You open the door and a new room reveals itself.
Three steps lead down into what must be a private vault. A low whirring comes from somewhere within, but it fades quickly.
To the east stands the statue of a man in robes, his eyes downcast. His marble hands hold an open stone book.
Two plain sarcophagi are also here, their lids sealed. The stone here gleams as if it was polished yesterday, and no sign
of vermin or dust is anywhere. Tiny niches are built into the masonry in a sparse but orderly pattern.

ooc: Spot and listen checks, if you please.

Attached Images

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