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The gnome had remained near the scoot-room while the others explored the small chamber. He'd seen the artwork and the stone and assumed that the others would see and conclude similarly and they'd be off again. Hopefully the dead-end would mean a trip back to the camp where he could sleep or eat or both.

 

As the others fussed with the stone, Armando found himself meandering around the artwork again. It still did not appeal to him, but he could see the craftsmanship in it. Someone had meant for it to be seen, he was sure of it.

 

Given his relative difference in height to the rest of the party, he heard but did not notice the gas right away. When it did hit him, his eyes began to water and his joints began to ache. He pressed a hand against the wall to stabilize himself, which did well enough to keep him on his feet so that he could scramble into the secondary room with the others. Once in the second room, he fell to his butt and used the back of his fists to clear away his eyes. "It'sa dangerous to be here." He complained to no one.

 

Once they were noticeably clear of the gas and gook, he pulled his hands away. The fists remained although he wasn't quite sure what he was angry about. He watched as the ratfolk moved about, keeping a close tab on him as he moved from space to spot to crevice.

 

A thought occurred to him and his body moved even before he had any time to put words to it. He followed the ratfolk's original path, ensuring if a trap was triggered that it wasn't he that triggered it, and sought out one of the corners or the first alcove. There, he looked for spider webs or dead beetle carcasses.

 

"Spider webs would mean bugs, which might mean nothing's in here to get us." He confidently remarked.

 

The gnome had remained near the scoot-room while the others explored the small chamber. He'd seen the artwork and the stone and assumed that the others would see and conclude similarly and they'd be off again. Hopefully the dead-end would mean a trip back to the camp where he could sleep or eat or both.

 

As the others fussed with the stone, Armando found himself meandering around the artwork again. It still did not appeal to him, but he could see the craftsmanship in it. Someone had meant for it to be seen, he was sure of it.

 

Given his relative difference in height to the rest of the party, he heard but did not notice the gas right away. When it did hit him, his eyes began to water and his joints began to ache. He pressed a hand against the wall to stabilize himself, which did well enough to keep him on his feet so that he could scramble into the secondary room with the others. Once in the second room, he fell to his butt and used the back of his fists to clear away his eyes. "It'sa dangerous to be here." He complained to no one.

 

Once they were noticeably clear of the gas and gook, he pulled his hands away. The fists remained although he wasn't quite sure what he was angry about. He watched as the ratfolk moved about, keeping a close tab on him as he moved from space to spot to crevice.

 

A thought occurred to him and his body moved even before he had any time to put words to it. He followed the ratfolk's original path, ensuring if a trap was triggered that it wasn't he that triggered it, and sought out one of the corners or the first alcove. There, he looked for spider webs.