Chapter Four: The Manifest of the Harikan Squall

Leth squints at the ground, his attention drawn to a quick reflection of light from Felor's spear. He moves closer to inspect it.

"Hey guys, there's a key over here." He says as he sees the object on the ground. He reaches out to pick it up and look at a little more carefully.

"Should we hold on to it?"

"No other passage southward, though," says Zangua. He prepares to crawl through the opening.

"It couldn't hurt, Leth. Does it smell like anything in particular, Zora? Rotting meat?"

Zangua readies himself with a defensive position, keeping watch as the others enter the chamber.

Of course, until Felor enters with the Light spell, it's rather hard to see.

"Where did all of these come from?" Vad wonders out loud and begins to look about the room.

Leth enters, bow drawn, and peers into the dark room for any sign of danger while the others examine the pottery.

"Let's not take any interesting detours," Zangua grunts, recalling the words of Grimzo. He proceeds into the south passage, on the lookout for any movement.

Any sense of what the body died of?

Mindful of the warnings about the restless dead, Zangua keeps the catchpole trained on the lifeless body while the others investigate.

"South til we reach the crypts..." Leth mutters to himself as his eyes shift around the room. He is growing increasingly uncomfortable about their location and the findings around them, but is confident enough in the strength of the group that he isn't worried - at least not yet, anway.

"South, then?" Leth asks a little louder, for the group to hear. "Or do you reckon this is part of the crypt?"

Shamush dusts himself off a bit and takes a chomp out of a roughly spherical hunk of a purple fungus, as if it were an apple. He coughs a little, releasing a smoky plume of spores into the air. Upon spying the desiccated corpse he sidles over to it and gives it a thoughtful prodding with his foot. He laughs and says to Leth, "If it is a crypt, they half-assed this poor sap's burial. Must have been that uncle no one liked."

Seeing the condition of the dead man's neck, he lifts his torch and gazes up at the stairs, squinting against the dark. He chews the rubbery meat and says around a mouthful, "Or maybe he was just some dumb asshole what fell down some stairs."

Congrats on the arrival of your 0-level henchmen in real life, EndsOfInvention!