Despite Wembley’s assertion to try another door and the warrior’s of the group reluctance to face an undead foes without adequate armour – The diminutive clerics of the party feel an obligation to eliminate the forces of darkness from this lair – no matter how small.

As the holy men bring forth the power of their prayer to combine their energy, the host from beyond the grave and the other side of the door is fervourously clawing and scratching at the door. The unearthly moaning is loud and speaks of a need none too natural.

The divine chant is answered and Gamard takes a position before the door as Wembley chatters on about rat fighting in Bayris. The door is opened and the undead rodents move slowly towards the party. Gamard commands them to stop in the name of the divine, and a wave of holy energy seems to pass from Dudley and him towards the mice. They do not turn away though, but spasm and stop moving – their weak necromantic energy unable to withstand the divine. Even though there must be at least 60-70 of them, they give up the ghost of their life and fall. Only the cat remains, still moving towards you in a slow gait, until Mal steps forward and beheads the poor creature with his sabre. The enemy is vanquished.

After a breath or two, you hear the steady steps of the cleaning golem coming towards you. It begins to use its cleaning powers to remove the carcasses of the now very dead animals.

Within the room, the desk contains no papers of a personal nature, and is intended for the use of visitors. There are supplies of paper, ink, and pens, but no notes among the clutter. It has been searched by someone recently. The bookcases are full of light reading material on the following: the history of the Sendria Civil Wars, the folklore of pixies, elves, gremlins, fairies, and other mythical creatures; and the conjuration of demons, spirits, and other powers.

Your choices are now only the portals, or examine the closet that still remains unchecked.

"Huh..." Wembley said, very much underwhelmed by the action before him. Looking to the Khord, he tried his best to summarize the situation, "So, basically, you just say some words to your god, and he goes, 'Alright, then.' And you tell the unliving to stop and... then... they do. Is that about right?"

OOC: Assuming some sort of answer...

"Huh," the Cidal continued. "The rats in Bayris were WAY more exciting. Put up a better fight too."

With the unliving taken care of, the little mage moved over to the closet. "Maybe there's something more exciting in here," he piped up, hopefully, as he opened the door.

Wembley impulsively opens the closet door to reveal before him six skeletons. He shrinks back slightly, in reaction to them but no attack comes. He then realizes these are all hung on hangers attached to a wooden dowel across the top of the closet. Six skeletons – just hanging there.

There is nothing else in the closet.

As the rats came into the doorway it seemed for a minute that the cleric’s efforts were not working; Alôndas readied a spell and was about to rush forward and burn the rats then and there before they could swarm his companions but then the undead stopped and began to spasm and then fell to the cold floor. He sighed and relaxed as Mal stepped forth and took the head of the undead cat with one fell swipe.

“Well,” the mage said as he stepped forward to enter the room, “that wasn’t so hard. Good Job Priests, and you too Mal.”

Alôndas stepped in and began to search the table and shelves for anything useful or magical; he looked up as Wembley stepped up and opened the door. He started to shout a warning but saw he was too late, but it seemed there was nothing to worry about as it was only a closet with what looked like very dead skeletons inside. He shook his head at the recklessness of Cidals and went back to checking all of the papers and books in the room.

Finding nothing useful remained, it looked like someone had ransacked the room already, he sighed but did pocket a couple of small tomes on pixies and other mythical creatures; they might be good reading later.

“Well,” he turned to the rest of the party, “Looks like our only choices are the portals; as I suggested in the first place.” The last was said with a softer, though slightly arrogant, tone as if he had known it would come to this in the end.

“Might I suggest we use the one in the first room,” He said and without waiting he walked back into the other room and over to the portal, “If there are no objections, I will volunteer to go first.”

If no one objects, he steps up to the portal and reaching out a hand he gently touches the surface and then sticks his hand inside testing the feeling and then, after a moment’s hesitation, he walks forth moving into the portal till he feels it tug at him to complete the process.

(OOC: His Armor spell should still be in effect, at least till he takes the damage (9pts) required to remove it. He is mentally prepared for trouble and has a spell in mind, Burning Hands, in case he is attacked upon arrival, though he doesn’t really expect that will be the case. )

The Swashbuckler cleaned his blade on his pant leg, still amazed that it had been so simple. He had never seen a priest at work against any form of undead, but he had to admit, he was impressed with the power they wielded. He considered briefly that he should have probably taken the opportunity he had been presented long ago to become a cleric of the Sea Goddess. Briefly. He still trusted in his saber more than magics.

"Most impressive, Khord. You as well, Cidal. I've not seen anythin' of the like in my whole life."

He jumped again as the other Cidal, Wembley, opened the closet, revealing half a dozen skeletons. His saber was raised, and poised to strike before he realized they were TRULY dead. Breathing a sigh, he shakes his head and lowers his blade. He didn't even pay the Syl wizard any heed, until he noticed him return to the previous room, mentioning volunteering to move through a portal.
Eyes widening, he turned and followed. But as he entered the first room, shouting to wait, the Syl was already moving through. Cursing, he shouted to the others, "Well boys, our job ain't done yet. We likely now need to go save the wizard. Wouldn't surprise me if'n the fool appeared in a bloody dragon's den." He exaggerated with a frown, and followed through the portal, saying a silent prayer to Cardista to protect him in this new, and evil place.....

If Skeletons Could Talk ??????
Wembley impulsively opens the closet door to reveal before him six skeletons. He shrinks back slightly, in reaction to them but no attack comes. He then realizes these are all hung on hangers attached to a wooden dowel across the top of the closet. Six skeletons – just hanging there.

There is nothing else in the closet.
Gamard the Grim stood staring at the 'skeletons in the closet' and was lost in a bit of thought, musing:
If these skeletons could talk ... what would they have to say ... about all this ... or more?
But alas ... I have not the spell ... nor the ability ... to make them talk ... or to figure out what they would tell us ... even if they could tell us!
The Knight of Holy Anger turned to Crow and reached out his hand to retrieve his quarterstaff, as he heard the mage ask him a question:

"Huh..." Wembley said, very much underwhelmed by the action before him. Looking to the Khord, he tried his best to summarize the situation, "So, basically, you just say some words to your god, and he goes, 'Alright, then.' And you tell the unliving to stop and... then... they do. Is that about right?"
"If only it were that simple every time Friend Wembley! Depends upon my consecration ... my concentration ... not to mention what type of Unliving Creatures I am facing!"
After retrieving his weapon from Crow, Gamard took a couple of steps towards the portal, to get a better view, before suggesting the group proceed through the portal that seemed to be guarded by such vermin as had been dispatched this day!

There must be something of importance beyond yon portal ... at least there should be answers about a room full of Unliving Mice, an Unliving Cat and Skeletons in the Closet ... with no clues left in this room!
His thoughts were interrupted when the mage Alondas spouted off to the group, before making a mad dash in the opposite direction!

“Well,” he turned to the rest of the party, “Looks like our only choices are the portals; as I suggested in the first place.” The last was said with a softer, though slightly arrogant, tone as if he had known it would come to this in the end.

“Might I suggest we use the one in the first room,” He said and without waiting he walked back into the other room and over to the portal, “If there are no objections, I will volunteer to go first.”
Gamard had learned from past dealings with different races, as a Priest of Solanis, to be patient with the impulsive actions of others, no matter how clever or ill advised such actions may be!

As for the Swashbuckler: He didn't even pay the Syl wizard any heed, until he noticed him return to the previous room, mentioning volunteering to move through a portal.
Eyes widening, he turned and followed. But as he entered the first room, shouting to wait, the Syl was already moving through. Cursing, he shouted to the others, "Well boys, our job ain't done yet. We likely now need to go save the wizard. Wouldn't surprise me if'n the fool appeared in a bloody dragon's den." He exaggerated with a frown, and followed through the portal, saying a silent prayer to Cardista to protect him in this new, and evil place.....
Gamard allowed all the others to follow after the impulsive mage and the Swashbuckler. He lingered a few moments to give thanks to Solanis for protecting him and the others, by granting the power that dispatched the Unliving, then asking for protection, guidance and the wisdom to deal with such impulsive behavior, when it had seemed to the Knight of Holy Anger that they should have gone through the portal that was 'guarded' by the Unliving!

Thraggdrugg would be spewing his ale if he were watching this group!
Gamard had prudently decided that keeping that thought to himself was better advised, than shouting out his disgust regarding this matter! Going in the opposite direction seemed to be an action of retreating to the Knight of Holy Anger, when he would have much rather pressed forward with a strategy that spoke of victory over the dark denizens that had been dramatically dispatched.

"Solanis ... Grant Me Protection from an Unexpected Attack from the Rear!"
He could not shake the feeling that something important lay beyond the portal that was prevented direct access by the unliving dark denizens that had earlier filled the room!

But the Knight of Holy Anger knew full well that it would be foolish and prideful for him to press forward through yon portal, while the others were 'retreating' in the opposite direction to salve the curiosity of one impulsive mage!

So he reluctantly, but dutifully, chose to follow his companions, ready to not only follow where the mage chose to go, but to be vigilant to guard the group from an unexpected attack from the rear!

As Crow handed the staff back to Gamard with a quiet thank you, he watched as his fellow Syl, the mage Alôndas took it upon himself after briefly asking the party's permission to choose the parties next actions. Though he had asked and briefly waited no one, including to his dismay Crow himself, had spoken up to stop him from passing quickly through it. Blaming himself for not arguing against going through this portal instead of one of the others or at least doing so with more preparation for what possibly lay on its other side. He watched as one by one the rest of the party followed the mage through the portal and Crow could only shake his head. Finally it was only him and Gamard left on this side of it, turning to the Khord Cleric he addressed him.

“Cleric, if not for the folly of ourselves and others, would this world be a much safer place?” Turning back to the portal as he finished the question. Crow moved forward without waiting for the answer and through it. In doing so leaving the Khord Cleric as the last one of the party left behind.....

You step through the black portal. There is no flash or even a feeling accompanied with the move, you are in a room one moment and in another the next.

The room is very dark at first. The smell of wood (cedar?) is strong and a musty smell (peat-ish?) as well. Then, candles in sconces around the room light up on their own and you perceive that you are in a 30x30 foot room where all the walls are lined with wooden wine racks full of bottles.

Before you is a staircase going up into darkness. On your right is another stairwell going down. The floor is a grey stone, dusty with signs of recent traffic to both stairs. The ceiling is 20 up, unpainted stone. It is cooler in here than the other room, but not uncomfortably though.

All the bottles in the room are filled with a clear liquid or a slightly yellowish. They are very dusty but some have been recently disturbed. There are even a few missing.

Dudley frowned at Mal's suggestion he pack the bottles and books with the food. "Friend, we are just starting this trek out and I am not a pack mule. That little bottle should fit your pocket and we already have a bit of wine we know is safe, so I don't care to take any of those containers." Then looking at the books, " That volume on the conjuration of demons, spirits, and other powers might be handy. If you know how they might get here it may help to send them back. That is if we meet any." With that Dudley slipped book into pack. Then grabbing a slip of paper and the pin he left a note. "Borrow one book on conjuration." Placing the note on the desk he turned and left the room.

Returning to the main room he saw the other starting to proceed through a portal and followed, fearing more of being separated from the party then what might be on the other side.

Alôndas stepped through the portal and was amazed at the seamless transition of the transportation.

“Fascinating!”

He took two steps slowly forward and to the side to clear the opening so that the others could come through without hindrance. He stood there, staff in hand, and waited till everyone had arrived; while he waited he observed the room closely.

“It appears to be a wine cellar,” he said aloud as the others looked around the room, “at least no undead here that can be seen.”

Walking over to one of the racks he reaches out and lifts a bottle gently off of the shelf and dusts it off looking for a label.

As Crow moved through the portal into what appeared to be some type of wine cellar. No sooner did he take this in that once again the impulsive mage Alôndas made to do something possibly dangerous.

“Alôndas stop! Think about your actions fully, anything in this room could be trapped! Honestly in this whole place every little thing could mean doom for us. We need to allow Wembley to investigate this room first.”

He hoped his words would make sense to the Sylvari Mage.

Another Wasted Wembley Watch
“Alôndas stop! Think about your actions fully, anything in this room could be trapped! Honestly in this whole place every little thing could mean doom for us. We need to allow Wembley to investigate this room first.”
Gamard the Grim had stepped through the portal just in time to hear Crow admonish Alondas for another seemingly foolish action!

The Knight of Holy Anger quickly viewed the room, shook his head in response to what Crow had exclaimed; then turned his focus back to the portal he had just come through, gripping his quarterstaff with both hands in a defensive stance, in case of a surprise attack from the rear!

Mal appeared into the wine cellar, right behind Al, saber raised and ready for battle. However, he now realized he looked extremely foolish as he looked around at the bottles of wine and the like.
Still, he didn't let down his guard, only allowing his saber to dip into a less threatening stance. It didn't matter how safe this place seemed. The swashbuckler was already convinced that this entire place was rigged to kill intruders and explorers. Only the dim hope of salvation could drive them on, knowing that they must continue forward because there is nothing behind that promotes life. But what did they hope to find at the end of this? A portal home? A ship? Unlikely.....
Mal sighed, completely ignoring the others as he contemplates what chances they have of survival....

He had to admit, there odds were still better treking forward through this place, rather than going back to the empty island. But, what foul horrors lay before them? What impossible tasks must they soon complete, only to be presented with a bloody, gruesome death?

'I be becomin' a priest of the Sea Lady, if'n I get outta here....' The warrior thought to himself glumly, only just realizing the other party members had made it this far.
Looking around again, Mal noticed the floor.... Dusty, but recently disturbed...... How recently? Well, he was hardly a tracker, but he didn't think it mattered. Wether a week old, or an hour, there was something else in here... And be it human, or some terrible monster, The Swashbuckler doubted it would be friendly....

“Alôndas stop! Think about your actions fully, anything in this room could be trapped! Honestly in this whole place every little thing could mean doom for us. We need to allow Wembley to investigate this room first.”
Alôndas turned and glared at Crow; he thought his countryman would know better than to speak to him in such a tone.

“Worry about yourself, Maithias!” he said turning back to look at the bottle, “this is obviously a wine cellar and I don't think every bottle in this room is trapped. If you see me opening a door or chest without caution then you may worry, but do not speak to me again in such a manner. You are not leader here and until you are do not presume to give me orders.”

He went back to examining the label of the wine bottle he held.

“Worry about yourself, Maithias!” The mage responded to Crows ask for caution “this is obviously a wine cellar and I don't think every bottle in this room is trapped. If you see me opening a door or chest without caution then you may worry, but do not speak to me again in such a manner. You are not leader here and until you are do not presume to give me orders.”

Crow could only laugh at the mage's words as it was clear that the mage had already did what he said Crow should be concerned about.

“Mage, you say worry only of myself unless you open door or chest". (Another laugh) “Then what do you call going through the portal that led us here but a door. A door not all of us wanted to enter in the first place. However disregarding any careful thought on your part, you went through it first nonetheless. I’d say I have right to worry, Mage.

The last said in a clearly disdainful tone. Crow would take the Mage’s advice and worry only of himself and those of this group that could be counted on to watch his back. Clearly his Syl companion was not one of them so Crow would not grant him the same in return. Come what may unless the mage curbed his arrogance, Crow would afford him no respect or consideration at this time.

Moving away from the mage to put distance between them, he kept his eyes peeled for danger............