Diving into the pool in the upper chamber one by one, Adrik, Bennet, Nix, Jila, Darrin, Lorawyn and Simon begin their swim into the depths of the tunnel again, the eerie darkness thwarted and replaced by a murky glow as Simon’s staff still shines. The mud and remnants of the Skeletons float about, the water now static as both doors are completely shut once again. Bennet, noticing the oddity of this, tries to peer into the gloom to see what happened to Darrin’s knife. Simon glides over and taps Bennet on the shoulder, directing him to the door blocking their path.
Bracing and lifting in unison, Lorawyn and Adrik press themselves against the metal door, bubbles escaping from their mouths and collecting as a strange, reflective wobbly pocket on the ceiling above them. Bennet pushes himself along the floor, feet pushing at the ball as his body tries to float him upwards at the heel. Reaching the door, Bennet brings back his fist and bangs on the door four times, the sound echoing loudly through the tunnel in a prolonged, muted sound. As the Druids manage to heave the door upwards, the water begins spraying out of the bottom and into the next room again. The two turn and grab the door at the bottom, unbending their knees slowly to lift it up higher. The surge of water pulls everything towards the door, and a skull floats by Simon and makes him scream, bubbles flying from his mouth, the sound dull and deep. Jila punches the skull out of the way with one hand, his other hand bracing against the door, his hair being pulled towards the gap in the door as though caught in a high wind.
Bennet struggles to keep his hold of Korik’s items, all of them washing away into the next room. One by one, each of the party slips under the door, washing out against a metal cage.
After a few minutes, the rush of being thrust from the flooded tunnel subsides and clarity takes hold. Simon’s staff remains lit, casting long strange shadows as the light stops fast against the broken cages. Of the many scary things revealed, Korik is leaning against a wall, stark naked and without the water conceiling him. Everyone is safe in this room now; everyone is cold, and very wet. Simon stands amongst everyone, leaning heavily on his staff, and gives the ground a gentle tap with the end of it. A silent whoosh of heated air, along with the smell of dry leaves and warm sand, blasts through the room. When your clothes stop fluttering, they are dry and no longer sapping your heat. Simon takes a deep breath through his nose and stands straight as he does so, looking like he’s just woken up from a nap; a smile creeps across his face that he tries to conceal and he wanders to a back corner as he waits for Korik to get dressed and the party to decide upon the next course of action.
What do you do?
The room is about thirty or so feet across and half again as long, with some red and black mould in the far right corner, a corridor leading left in the top left corner, and a dozen cages, broken and spattered with blood and bloody rags, lie scattered about the room. There is the subtle sound of clacking from down the corridor sounding as though it’s some distance away and simply echoing nearer. It has always been there, and while Talison and Korik hadn’t consciously noted it, they recall it once it is pointed out. Thus far, it has posed no threat.