As the party came into the sanctum Morcant decided to examine the rune hidden in the blackened hallway. Perhaps the darkened aura would reveal insights into the mystical protections this place is hiding.

But upon closer examination it appeared that the rune was merely a masking stone of some sort. The light it cast made torn and tattered objects appear whole and lustrous. And it was a trigger for the devious sand trap which would surely have filled, and killed members of the party.

At the far western terminus of the hallway, the group found a dead end. Backtracking and taking a side corridor led them back to the familiar Inner Sanctum and a gory display of weapons proficiency.  

Gurin was excited about the doors in this room. He ran down to the portcullis to the south. Thinking back to the first time the group assembled in the Gatehouse, Gurin recalls the familiar sound echoing throughout the halls of the Vaults. Gurin smiled then, and placed beefy hands on his hips, leaning backward in satisfaction. The sounds of ancient gears turning and mechanical portcullis sliding into waiting sleeves had let him know the Vault was open to unhindered exploration!

He was hoping that the earlier efforts had opened the portcullis which Blackbird had warned him about. Gurin loved a good poisoned dart trap door, classic stuff! But he preferred that everyone in his party, including himself, remain poison free when possible. Catching up with the eager Dwarf, the entire party followed, certain he was on to something significant.

The final grains of sand fell through the center drain which was opened as the rune was shattered. The armor and weapons sat faded and worn with time.

Ptolmek knew those inside the chamber had escaped a certain death trap. However, his curiosity got the best of him and he peered inside. The Armory held only dusty armaments which would not have any use to him. Turning with a huff he proceeded down the hall and turned into the westbound corridor.

Miranda shook off the effects of the hard fall. She nodded in admiration of the deadly trap. Sand could kill as easily as water - it flooded the lungs just as menacingly. Death came too easily for the unwary explorer. She got the cobwebs out of her brain and looked around the room more closely.

She inspected the corners in the ceiling from which the sand had poured. The blocks of granite appeared seamlessly fit into their notches, and there appeared to be no method of moving them again. Not that she wanted to invite danger again, but she was intrigued by this particular trap.

The sand continued to cascade out of the corners near the ceiling. On the floor a rising layer of silty granite sand was pooling around the adventurers feet. It moved and acted much like water. But if they stood still too long the grains wrapped themselves around the occupant's ankles like rising quicksand. It took great effort to break the surface tension of the sand, and pull one's foot up onto the surface again. And with each climb upward, less of the room became available.

Morcant felt a surge of urgency and alertness from Gurin, the mind-linked dwarf, as soon as the door slammed shut. Morcant quickly cleared his mind of any controlling thoughts. This was a situation which the dwarf would need his own expertise and no outside influence.

Morcant attempted to put his talents to work replicating Gurin's earlier work. He reckoned the opening of a hidden passage couldn't be that difficult - especially if a dwarf was successful. What he failed to take into account were Gurin's decades of training and expertise with traps, locks, doorways, and dwarven construction techniques.

Gurin wheeled around, eyes fixed on the chain jerkin and the place where it just was. Something there had triggered this trap. Gurin couldn't discern an apparent trigger but suspected a pressure plate system. He yanked the jerkin from Marlit's hands and placed it back where he assumed it belonged. Oddly enough, it seemed as if the sands began to pour faster.

The party called through the hall to one another about what had been discovered. Alerted to the existence of the cache, Ptolmek proceeded to the doorway and stood guard outside the room. If anyone would gain from this revelation, it would be his adventurers.

Miranda began to search through the equipment in the Armory. Her attention fell on the weapon racks. Paying close attention to the wall rungs she noted they were all fixed in place securely. Not one of the notches would ever move, unless smashed by a great hammer. These small fixtures were carved, somehow, directly from the virgin stone of this mountain.

Gurin snapped out of his trance with exhilarated pleasure. He searched the room carefully and grabbed a crossbow with an elegantly inscribed leather strap which he hung across his back. He searched for rope but came up empty. It appeared to him the purpose of this room was armaments and not tack.

Turning like a soldier on command to his right, Gurin presses his stout form against the wall. To Morcant he appears like a penitent man prostrate across the floor before his god. Arms extended left and right, Gurin runs his fingers smoothly over the surface searching for what his soul tells him surely exists.

Blackbird watched, bewildered, as the dwarf hugs the cold stone wall like a long absent lover. What could possibly be going through Gurin's mind, he wonders.

Standing clear of the crowding, Blackbird remains at the back of the group and maintains a guard. His eyes keenly scan the Chapel they just left, as fear rests heavily on his shoulders.

Marlit was comfortable sticking with Blackbird. Perhaps the University knew what they were doing when assigning her to aid him. At any rate, the little corridor was far too crowded as it was. And someone should remain at the rear ready to sound the alarm if they were attacked.