In the Plaza

"ah, yes," responds Lothkwa. "The passphrase is a sequence of gestures. I hope that I recall correctly! Here, watch." and he carefully touches the door frame at seven points.

There is a faint crackling noise. Lothkwa gently manipulates the lever of the door. It opens inward into darkness.

"Lady Zama," adds the senior servant, "you were wise to avoid the mountain oysters at that questionable restaurant last night. I am glad that I heeded your words. The others did not and they are not well this morning. Regrettably they will not be joining us!"

Although it is dim due to the heavy shutters at the windows, a little damp and musty due to the rainy season, and completely bare of furnishings due to the depredations of the wastrel apprentices ... The large square high ceiling room that occupies apparently the whole ground floor of the tower does not seem dangerous.

There is a straight stone staircase descending at the middle of the floor. It is surrounded by chest high bronze banisters with a locked gate. To the right of the entrance, another stone staircase ascends along the wall to a dark opening in the ceiling about fifteen feet up. The ceiling itself is unremarkable wooden beans and the undersides of the floor boards above. There is a massive hook, above the central basement stair, where a candelabra might have dangled in the past. The room is generally dull red in color owing to the headsized stone blocks of its construction and the scuffed ochre paint on the wooden floor.

Lothkwa nods and smiles politely. He steps to the door, standing facing out into the plaza.

Orloth ascends, the torch flame scorching the stone wall. There is a slight draft on the stairs, which have no banister. Ikhtanabu liked to live dangerously maybe.

As Orloth's head reaches the opening in the floor above, the torchlight reveals to him a solid-looking door at the top of the stairs. The door is painted in an umber hue.

At the basement gate ...

... Arius cannot restrain the yelp of pain as the lock that he is examining suddenly produces a plethora of needles, which pierce his hands! It is a painful moment as he wrests his bleeding fingers free of the spikes. The lock, released from his grasp, clatters against the frame of the gate. Blood oozes down his hands.