Totem of Cunning

It's a dismal day. The rain comes down heavily and without relenting. The grass is mostly mud underfoot. It's a slog to the top of a hill where a strange stone cap was found by some people settling in this area. New settlers on the verge of Alexandrian territory, so you've spent a long time getting here. Most of it trudging through rain. The muddy hill isn't that strange, but the stone cap on the top is a bit unusual. It's a circular pour of stone that covers the top of the hill in a perfect circle. Inlaid in it are the symbols of the deities. Their order makes no real sense to you, but it doesn't seem immediately dangerous.

"Note to self," Taran mutters as he trudges through mud and rain towards the hilltop, "Get an oilskin cloak." His hooded cloak helps to keep some of the rain off but by now it's fairly soaked but still better than being rained on directly. He would shiver if the cold really bothered him, but the giantborn tend to ignore such things. It's just /clingy/ which is worse in a lot of ways.

Cresting the hill to the strange stone cap, Taran looks down at it and rather than trying to make sense of the deific symbols he doesn't really follow, he crouches down and slips a dagger out to see if he can expose more of the stone cap by scraping mud off of it and away. He's not in a rush though so takes his time giving more than enough for other smarter and wiser individuals than him to try and puzzle out the symbols.

Rain, rain, go away. Because it's annoying. It's not fire. Worse, it's not very flammable. Smuldur has checked. Repeatedly.

Torchie the Illuminating is undeterred by the feeble efforts of water falling from the sky, however! His flickering flame burns bright and is held high! Almost four whole feet as Smuldur skitters his way up the hill. "Big mudball not special. Why rock special?" A thought strikes, and hard enough to help push him against gravity all the more quickly. "Maybe burning rock!"

Dirk is no stranger to the rain. Nor to a muddy slog. He lumbers along with rain drizzling steadily from the brim of his tricorne, thunderbelcher slung over his shoulder and his cloak pulled close around his burly torso. His breath puffing steam through his beard as his boots squelch and schlorp through the mud. But he isn't complaining. Indeed, he's whistling a cheerful marching tune as he makes his way towards the hill. Taran is given a big grin. "Could be worse!" he booms. "Could be hail. Always a fun time, innit, when the sky decides it's goin tae beat the shit out o' ye! Har!" He slows to a halt as they reach the top of the hill. His shaggy white brows arch in surprise as he examines the stonework underfoot. He lets out a low whistle. "Have a look at -this-," he says. He stomps his foot on the stone a couple times. "This has tae be dwarf-wrought." He looks over at Smuldur, tipping the brim of his hat back as he peers at the gobber. "Och, if you can get a fire goin' in -this- mess, then ye deserve to, I'll warrant!"

Dolan is soaked to the skin when they approach, the early spring rains having soaked through his cloak some days ago, mud caked to his boots. He is shivering, and when they approach the stone cap, he mutters, "If it opens, at least we get to get out of the rain."

He, too, approaches the rock, studying as others begin to clear away the mud atop it, with a _look_ for Dirk as the dwarf ambles along entirely too cheerfully. "Guess you're right," he allows at last. "Could be worse." That's all the attention he allows it, instead studying the symbols.

GAME: Dolan rolls intelligence: (10)+1: 11

"If we open it," Taran's smoky deep baritone smoothly carries even through the rain, "We might let out whatever is in there. I only recognize a couple of the symbols. That many Gods symbols in one place. It might be a warding stone or keeping something dangerous contained." He shrugs off the comments about how much worse it could be and continues trying to scrape mud, "Wish I had a shovel... would make this so much easier." Taran clearly wants to see more of this stone cap before it gets obliterated, or lit on fire, somehow.

Crius is huddled in his cloak in hopes it'll keep most of the rain away, which it doesn't. Wet and trudging along, the dark-skinned elf falls in with the growing group, his golden eyes gleaming from the darkness of his hood as he looks from one person to the next. Most of the group isn't known to him except for Dolan, and Taran who he recognizes and gives both a wave. Slowly pulling his hood back he asks softly, "What've we got here?"

GAME: Dolan rolls knowledge/religion: (7)+6: 13
GAME: Dirk rolls Knowledge/Geography: (9)+6: 15

Dirk hrrms, tugging thoughtfully at his beard. "Is it summat that -opens-?" he inquires, looking up and around at his new compatriots. "Could just be like a natural amphitheater, nay? Maybe it's just an outdoor temple? We -are- a good ways away from Alex, after all." He considers for a moment, his shaggy brows furrowing. "Come tae think... I don't remember this hill actually -bein'- here. Hunh. This stone certainly isn't naturally formed."

Smuldur skitters around the perimeter, sizing up the stone and peering at the symbols intently. "Ah-hah!" he suddenly makes a realization. With which he darts to the center of the stone. "What is you! Talk! Or else!" He then raps the non-burning end of torchie (because it's only a warning. For now) upon the rock three times.

"It's a burial mound," Dolan says after a minute or two of study, slicking his hair back and not incidentally steering excess water out of his face. "I've seen one of these before, in another place. Might be holding another one of those statues," he mutters darly. He'd acknowledged Crius cheerfully enough earlier, but that was before everyone was soaked to the skin, and he has become more dour and grumpy as the rain gradually made its way through everything.

"Probably safe to open it," he opines. "Might have guardians, but we ought to find out what's down here, especially if there's trouble in the area. And I'd like to get somewhere dry."

"I don't know why," Taran says as he stops digging and stands up, moving around the capstone to see if there's any lines that might indicate an entry way, "With that many Gods symbols I keep thinking it's a tomb under there." He looks over at Smulder's antics before his idea is confirmed by Dolan. "What sort of statues?" He asks curiously.

Crius looks to the rest of the group, from person to person as they speak. Nodding his head he follows along with the conversation on what Dolan identifies as a burial mound. "A statue? I'm guessing not a normal statue?" Looking to the rest of the party he moves into place and adds, "Let's go. I can cover the rear." The fingers of both hands run through his wet hair to slick it back before he wipes water from his face.

GAME: Dolan rolls perception: (12)+8: 20
GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (13)+7: 20
GAME: Crius rolls perception: (6)+8+2: 16
GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (20)+11: 31
GAME: Smuldur rolls perception: (19)+10: 29

Shilde was a little late to the party. She tends to be, often taking off from the guild before everyone else to gather what she needs somewhere outside the city, and either rendevousing on route or, if the destination is known, at the site. Such is the latter today. While everyone gathered about the stange cap, investigating its symbols, she and her shaggy canine friend come stomping up the hill, footfalls a little more forceful so as to assure purchase in the muddy trail and slick grass. She offers only a grunt in greeting, having likely assessed the group makeup as she made her approach, and folds her arms as she gets her own look at the out of place construction.

Rocky, her companion, immediately begins circling, sniffing people. "'Ave y'tried pushing it?" Shilde asks.

Dirk unlimbers his thunderbelcher as he hears those approaching footfalls. He doesn't bring it to his shoulder to fire, but he's got it ready, just in case. But when it's Shilde that tops the rise, he relaxes. He reaches up to tip back the brim of his tricorne, his brows arching once again. He can't help but let out a low wolf-whistle. But then, there's a friendly pupper making the rounds. His features crease with a huge, happy smile as he hunkers down on his haunches. "Well, aren't -you- a bonny lad?" he says, reaching a hand out for the doggo to sniff. It's while he's hunkered down, ruffling the dog's ears, that he spots something in the stonework. "Oy, mates! Think this here's a button!" he calls, rising back to his feet.

"A what?" Smuldur looks to Dirk in confusion. Then he follows Dirk's indication and looks down. Right next to where he had just thumped Torchie's butt end on the stone. "Ha! Torchie was right!" Just his butt-aim was a little off. The gobber adjusts and presses with Torchi again. This time butt on the button.

Three times, again. Because any button worth pushing is worth pushing more than once!

Dolan takes a step back, his boots squelching in the slick grass, and futilely pulls his drenched cloak around his shoulders again. "They're right. It's a button. Who's going first?" To the question about statues, he coughs and then frowns. "It's one of these twisted damn things that's associated to the nightmares that have been plaguing the city lately. If it's down there, it needs to be destroyed."

"A button?" Taran asks, looking over towards where said button was called out to be. Shilde's arrival gathers his attention enough to distract him from how even a button might work, and so it falls to others. "If you're going to take the rear," He says in his smooth baritone to Crius, "I could go first, try and make sure we don't run into any traps or the like."

As Torchie is pressed (not once but thrice) into the button, there's a low grinding noise as the earth beneath you begins to shake. The circular cap shifts, revealing a staircase leading down, down, down into the dark. Even those with darkvision will find that their eyes can peirce only so much of that darkness. It's as if after a certain point, the light simply refuses to fall.

All there is to do now, is to go forth into the mound.

Crius readies his gear, making sure his hidden blades are within reach, his short swords set to not get tangled up in his wet cloak. Nodding to Taran, he is in agreement and ready to follow the lead of the group. Moving to the entrance to get out of the rain, the cloak is pulled off and put aside in favor of freedom of movement. "Looks pretty dark down there." Leaning forward he sniffs at the air but doesn't comment further, instead opting to look to see how the party will form to head down.

Dirk steps back swiftly as the stone starts to move, once again gripping his thunderbelcher in a ready stance. "Nice pressin' laddie," he says to Smuldur. He leans over the edge, squinting down into the gloom. "Aye, it -does- look dark," he says. "Darker than it should be, I'll warrant. I can usually see in the dark just fine but... I cannae make out a damned thing down there!" He looks up at the others. "Any o' you tallfolk got a lantern? A torch? Magicked light?"

Taran pulls out a sunrod from his belt and holds that great hammer of his with his other hand. Tapping the sunrod alight so he has a light source as well, he looks around at the others. "So, marching order? Unless a more seasoned one of us can spot traps, I'm willing to go first."

GAME: Taran used a Sunrod.

Smuldur grins widely at Dirk and nods several times. Torchie might take offense at the question, but he DID specify tall folk. "Torchie know all! Always prepared! And Smuldur always find all the traps!" With that warning(?), Smuldur skitters down into the dark. Impulsives lead the way!

Rocky certainly sniffs the offered hand of Dirk, giving the rugged dwarf a good, wet lick on the hand for good measure before bounding away to continue his investigation of the area. Shilde leaves him too it. She does flinch a little bit as Smuldur pushes the button... but hey, it's just a button, right? And as the portal begins to grind and open she lets out a small sigh. "Aye. T'ain't bodin' well, that darkness. Like as not, somethin' nasty's waitin'. Maybe somethin' like what yer sayin'," she opines, tilting her head to Dolan. She fishes a small stone out of one of her pouches, muttering a simple incantation.. and it sparks to life, bright as a torch.

GAME: Shilde casts Light. Caster Level: 5 DC: 13

"Fine with me." Dolan starts to reach for the sunburst at his neck, but several other light sources appear, and he relaxes, suddenly grinning for the first time in days. "Let's hope it's not the same thing. Let's go." He, too, moves towards the entrance, although allows himself to fall in wherever seems to work best.

Crius waits for the group to move on, smiling as Smuldur leads the way. Nodding as each enters he takes up the rear, drawing his twin short swords. One eye is closed as the mul moves, trying to conserve his night vision should it be needed as they move deeper within.

As you head down into the dark, the spells you have wrought to keep the shadows at bay do their best. But... There's something ominous in the air. Something that pushes back against your lights until they dim. You reach a certain point and they simply... go out. Leaving you trapped in shadows. Blindly moving forward a few steps into... A huge room. This at least allows the light of your spells to illuminate it.

The room itself is made of stone, and there's no sign of a door within it. Indeed, as you examine the area you realize that the way you came through is blocked off by a wall as well. A wall that was certainly not there before. In the middle of the room is a platform made of red stone. A slab of beautiful red rock upon which is a statue of a minotaur. It doesn't move.

Dirk goes trundling down with the others. Hopefully the passage is wide enough that he's able to walk abreast with the group, just in case he needs to fire his thunderbelcher. As Shilde casts that spell, his shaggy white brows loft once again. "A spellcaster too? Och, wonder if she cooks," he mutters, tugging thoughtfully at his beard. He falls into step near Shilde, putting on a broad, easygoing smile. "Wasn't expectin' kinfolk tae be joinin' us today," he says, offering her a jaunty tip of his hat. "Dirk Stormgrip. How d'ye do? That's a handsome lad ye've got wi' ye." He nods towards Rocky. But even as he banters, his eyes are flicking up and around, on the lookout for danger.

That is, of course, until even the magicked light fails, leaving them dark. "Aww, shit... mind yerselves, friends!" He reverses the grip on his rifle, tapping carefully with the stock a few feet ahead to probe for falls or trip hazards. He nearly stumbles when he comes out into the room. "Woah!" Straightening himself back up, he looks up and around, peering at the surrounds. "-Fair- certain this wasn't ever here afore," he mutters. He turns to look over his shoulder. "I wonder how they--" He cuts off as he sees that their entrance has vanished. "Uh oh." He steps over, reaching up to put his hand to the wall, feeling along it. "Er... there -was- a tunnel here, wasn't there? I'm nae just goin' daft in me old age?" Smuldur scampers on with confidence and/or ignorance. As he presses deeper, one or the other suddenly flickers out with the light of "Torchie!! NOOOO!!!" His steps into the room are stumbles as he frantically waves, bonks, and thumps Torchie in attempts at illumination resuscitation. When things flicker back to light in the room with no exit, he hugs the burning torch tightly. "Don't do that again!"

Then he looks around at the room and the others, blinking. "What?"

The darkness is a big shock, especially since there's so many sources of magical light about suddenly fading. Taran frowns and steps carefully, unable to see at all, one hand on the wall and when it opens up into a space he steps carefully around to keep his hand on the wall holding the Suntorch when it flares back into life, causing him to blink and needing a moment to adjust his eyes. "Seems we've got a space here and a..." He looks at the minotaur, then to Dolan, "That kind of statue I assume? I don't see any tombs around..." As he spins slowly, mapping out the area as best he can visually he also spots: "The tunnel is gone, we're trapped for the time being at the very least."

Shilde eyes Dirk.. apparently a little less quick with the friendlies than her companion. Of the two, it's clear that Rocky is the 'face'. Still, she's been learning. "Shilde." Her clan name is left notably absent. Her eyes turn to the dog, who has taken to walking close to her once out of the open air. "Aye. Rocky's been with me.. a while. More trustworthy'n most." If she was going to say more, she doesn't have the chance.. instead, she finds herself muttering about smart-alex wizards once the darkness suppresses the group's lighting, and even her own inherited underground vision. Her hand immediately goes to the shaggy fur of her dog, her immediate concern to avoid being separated from him.. and when, at least, everyone stumbles into the chamber and find their exit just.. gone... she offers up a few choice swear words aimed at said wizards. Because, of course it was wizards who set this up.

Dolan is among the last to stumble through, his decision to rely on the lights conjured by others suddenly looking like a really bad choice. When he does emerge back into the light, he breathes a short sigh of relief, and takes a few moments to get his bearings. It's mercifully dry in here, and he immediately takes the opportunity to remove his cloak and wring it out onto the stone floor with a splash and a pouring sound. "Maybe it'll dry before we're done in here."

And then the others talk about the disappearing tunnel. "What?" Still wringing out his cloak, he swears colorfully himself, but says. "Damn whoever set this up. It did this last time I was in one of these, too, but at least it teleported us out at the end, so there's that. At least it's dry in here."

Crius moves with both short swords in hand and one eye closed. When the light dims, he swaps eyes, trying to see if his dark vision can pierce the darkness before switching eyes once the light flares back to life. Shaking his head, he moves away from the statue in the center of the room and looks for someplace out of direct sight. "Statue... Didn't you say something about..."

Trailing off, he nods to Taran as he asks the same question to Dolan that the mul was getting ready to ask. Listening to the response, he can't help but chuckle before asking, "What was the situation with the statue." Pointing to the statue with one blade, he looks around the room.

Dirk isn't off-put by Shilde's stand-offishness in the least. He's a bright, chipper old fellow, even in the face of potential danger. But neither does he push the issue either. "Well... it's great tae meet ye, Shilde," he says. He turns his attention back to the room, looking up and around. The minotaur statue gets a hairy eyeball as well. "Hrm... there's got tae be a way out o' here. Seein' as we got -in-." He starts walking a slow circuit of the room, running his hand along the stone wall. Brows furrowed in concentration as he seeks out any irregularity or unevenness that might indicate a secret passage of some sort. There's -always- secret passages in places like this, right?

Smuldur now follows everyone else's attention to the statue. He peers at it. Looks back to the others. Back at the statue. "What you do with the light?! And tunnel?! And buried things?!" He then points Torchie at it. "Talk, evil little cow man!"

"That's a different statue." Dolan turns away from the entrance, still wringing the edges of his cloak out, to peer up at the massive minotaur statue. "It looks more like a twisted thing with parts from different creatures." Squeeze. Pour. "The only way out is through, but it wasn't too bad the last time. I've never seen a statue like that, but it might be a guardian. Keep your weapons to hand."

GAME: Taran rolls knowledge/Dungeoneering: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL)

Shilde grunts. "Ah. Good t'meet you s'well," Shilde says to Dirk, not quite grudgingly. At least she knows the way that she is and is trying to curb it. A little bit. Meddlesome wizards aside. She sets her dog to sniffing about.. sometimes the nose reveals the truth behind what tricks the eyes, after all... while she, too, sets to investigating the stonework, leaving the business with the statue to those who know it. Namely, Dolan. She does heed the righteous man a little bit; her battered, wooden shield gets unslung and fixed to an arm. Her cudgel remains at her hip.

GAME: Dirk rolls Perception+2: (7)+7+2: 16

The dog growls at the statue, and refuses to step on the red stone it stands upon.

GAME: Shilde rolls perception+2: (3)+11+2: 16
GAME: Smuldur rolls perception: (6)+10: 16
GAME: Taran rolls perception: (12)+9: 21
GAME: Dolan rolls perception: (11)+8: 19
GAME: Crius rolls perception+2: (4)+8+2: 14

"Different? I don't like different." Smuldur takes heed of the warning, even if it just looks like a cow man. Maybe they found the secret cow level? "Can burn it!" he helpfully(?) and eagerly(!) suggests.

"There's something weird about this statue." Taran says, to which nobody likely finds entirely surprising. Walking up to the statue of the minotaur he examines it more closely. "Maybe it was turned to stone, not a statue at all, and won't be a problem so long as we don't turn it back." He starts checking around the base of the statue. "There's got to be something to open up the tunnel again, or how did they get out?"

As Taran steps on the red stone, the statue of the minotaur comes to life. It takes a deep breath, and chips of stone fall from its fur as its black eyes burn suddenly red.

Oddly enough, a door appears on the far side of the room at this same moment.

GAME: Dolan casts Shield of Faith. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14
GAME: Smuldur RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 8 temporary HP

That's when the statue moo-ves, proving Dolan's point about them being different. This, however, is its own brand of trouble, and the steaks suddenly got a lot higher. "Aw shit," he swears. "Who woke it up." He doesn't seem to especially care, though, instead reaching for the sunburst at his neck. "Holy Knight, lend me your shield!" he shouts, and almost at once, a golden daylight-like aura flashes around him, then fades into quiescence. That done, he releases the harness holding the greatsword to his back. "All right," he snaps, staring hard at their new opponent. "You wanted it, come get it."

GAME: Smuldur rolls melee+2+1: (15)+7+2+1: 25
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+9: (18)+9: 27

"You!" Smuldur growls at the now-not-a-statue. "Made." He drools. "Torchie. DARK!" The snarling, slavering gobber now charges in to strike a mighty incinerating blow with Torchie's Illustrious Might!

• Bonk*

GAME: Smuldur rolls 1d3+strength+2+1: (1)+2+2+1: 6
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (1)+6: 7
GAME: Taran rolls 1d20+7: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL)

Taran moves to the side as there is suddenly a very not-stone Minotaur in front of him. He has a moment where he fumbles with the sunstone torch he uses before dropping it to the ground, it'll provide some light down there! Gripping that heavy maul with both his hands, Taran steps to the side to try and line up a shot with precision and grace... well as much precision and grace as is possible for an Earthbreaker anyways.

Unfortunately Taran loses control of the hammer, his hands growing slick with sweat at the giant angry beast looking right at him and he fumbles, bad, the hammer slipping from his grip to smack into the back of one of his knees before he can restrain it and the giantborn hits the ground on one knee, hard, CRACK. "Ow..."

GAME: Crius rolls 1d20+4+2-1-2: (7)+4+2+-1+-2: 10
GAME: Crius rolls 1d20+4+2-1-2: (2)+4+2+-1+-2: 5

Crius has his swords already drawn and with the others taking the moving statue's attention, he slips around near it's back. He attacks, a quick double slice that misses, both slashes as he slips and slides from his wet and muddy boots on the red stone floor.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+9: (18)+9: 27
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+4: (2)+4: 6
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+6: (2)+6: 8

The minotaur wastes no time swinging his huge ax at Smuldur, bellowing and cutting into the little goblin. The cut is followed by a second blow, but this one scrapes the ground instead of goblin and the minotaur's beady red eyes glare at him.

GAME: Dirk rolls ranged: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Shilde casts Bull's Strength. Caster Level: 5 DC: 15
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+7: (9)+7: 16
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5+2+2: (13)+5+2+2: 22
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d6+6: (6)+6: 12

Dirk's eyes get wide as the minotaur comes to life. "Ohh, shit, that's not good, is it?" He brings up his thunderbelcher, eyes gaining razor focus as he draws a bead. His finger hovers over the trigger as he lines up the sights. He squeezes. The hammer clicks down into the firing chamber--and there's a feeble PAF as a puff of smoke crackles up from the mechanism. His jaw drops as he looks at the weapon, waving a hand furiously to clear the smoke. "Arrgh! The primer's gotten' fouled!" he growls angrily.

GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5+2: (5)+5+2: 12
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+5+2: (13)+5+2: 20
GAME: Dolan rolls weapon2+2: (13)+6+2: 21
GAME: Dolan rolls 2d6+5: (6)+5: 11

Shilde turns away, frustrated at the smoothness of the walls while at the same time being impressed with the stonework. Until she remembers that it was probably made by a cheating wizard. She makes as if to spit, but then notices Rocky growling at the statue. And then.. everything seems to happen at once. Taran steps on the red stone to inspect it. The statue comes to life. People charge in. The minotaur fights back, its ax swinging. "Well, Rocky.. time t'get with it." Tapping into the magic of the natural world, accessible even in this unnatural hole, she grants her companion the strength to hopefully rival the big beastie. Then, as if they've done this a hundred times before, dwarf and dog wade into the fray.. the dwarf woman holding her shield high as she draws her cudgel, Rocky zipping around to nip at the minotaur's flank. She manages to deflect the ax swing that comes, then pushes into him with the shield at the same time that Rocky clamps his jaws around the back of the minotaur's leg. Standard hit 'em high, hit 'em low.. the minotaur falls with a crash.

"Whoa! Good call!" Dolan shouts to Shilde, diving in to take advantage of the minotaur's predicament. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall!" He wastes no time in bringing his own sword to bear, opening a deep wound in the prone thing's side.

GAME: Smuldur rolls melee+2+1: (3)+7+2+1: 13
GAME: Taran rolls 1d20+7: (18)+7: 25
GAME: Taran rolls 1d20+7: (18)+7: 25

"Take that!" Smuldur brings Torchie down for udder destruction! Only to hit the red stone between the cow man's knees, instead. Possibly due to lack of udders.

Finally managing to get his greatmaul back into the proper position, where it's not slamming into the back of his thigh or knee, Taran rises up to his feet, eyeballing the minotaur that is being savaged from all sides. He takes the barest slight step and then swings the earthbreaker in a hard overhand motion like he was driving a huge stake into the ground.

Except it's the minotaur's chest Taran hits with a crack and thud. He brings that hammer back up and around to ready for another attack, eyeing the minotaurs short-rib, which he just tried to hammer into it's lung.

GAME: Crius rolls 1d20+4+2-1-2: (6)+4+2+-1+-2: 9
GAME: Crius rolls 1d20+4+2-1-2: (16)+4+2+-1+-2: 19
GAME: Crius rolls 1d6: (4): 4
GAME: Crius rolls 1d6: (4): 4

Crius is lost in the flow of combat, moving to find a better position to attack before the minotaur is brought down with a loud crash. When the party smashes and cuts the downed creature, he moves in swinging with his sword, missing with the first slash as the creature flails and thrashes about. Growling, the mul rushes between the thick thighs of the beast and finishes it with a stab to its jubilees. Pulling the blade free, he backs off and then looks around, sword dripping with blood while he checks to make sure there are no more enemies to fight.

The minotaur is down, but Rocky doesn't seem to care. It's not so much that the dog is vicious. It's just that he likes chew toys. And the minotaur has become a big one. Shilde leaves him to it, at least for the moment, as she steps back to survey first the fallen creature, then the rest of the room to see if there's any change besides the new door appearing. She keeps her cudgel out. "Hah. Good work," she says, then raises the cudgel to point at the door. "Pushin' on then?"

Dirk had looked ready to take ahold of his rifle's barrel and start wailing with it like a club. But the minotaur is felled before he can wade into melee range. He thunks the butt down on the stone, reaching up to tip back the brim of his tricorne. "Well! You all handled -that- well! Just a shame this dozy bastard decided tae be temperamental." With a harrumph, he picks up his rifle, cradling it in one arm. With the other hand, he reaches into his hip satchel for a thick, long metal-wire bristle brush. He threads it through the firing chamber, giving it a brisk scrub to clear out the fouled mechanism. He cups his hand around the breech and blows a sharp breath through, making a low droning 'FWOOMPH' sound from the weapon's barrel. "A'right you, now you'd -best- behave yeself!" he grumbles as he tucks his cleaning tool back into his satchel.

You leave through the door once you realize it's the only exit. There's a figurine waiting for you on the other side. A horrible twisted thing that looks like a person being turned into something... terrible. Something you can't recognize. You take it with you, because you're unable to destroy it, and leaving it behind seems somehow... unwise. There's another door that leads you back out again. Somehow to the top of the hill though you don't traverse any stairs. The dome is closed and the mystery of the mound remains largely unsolved. Still, you have the statue, and that's... something.

-End