Miranda's dark eyes reflect the gold and argent treasures of the Hall with a sinister gleam that belies her small stature. The others were quiet, so surely they wouldn't mind dealing with that giant critter while she inspects the valuables?

She signals to Ptolmek Skarab to distract the beast while she has a look around. Fascinated by this hall of antiquities her attention is drawn by the ceiling mural and she will take a moment to peer at it. Ptolmek wields his weapon and fixes his feet firmly, ready to charge in and attack the monstrosity.

Miranda curiously inspects the ornately carved door to the East. Searching for traps, she finds none - and the door opens with a little prying of the ancient lock. A tile labyrinth covers the floor within the small closet. The tiles are made of four blocks, loosely assembled, which sit recessed into the floor. Each block is easily removable. Miranda notes that on each face a portion of a rune is engraved into the block.

'Ahh this is it! Giant slimy leggy creatures and danger... hoo boy the little ones will love this story,' thought Gurin as he readied his axe. The dwarf decided to see how many legs he could separate in one pass. Gathering steam and charging the pile he artfully twisted, like a whirling dervish, past the centipede with axe extended. Could he dislodge ten, twenty, or even fifty legs? He would certainly try!

Morcant is not one for hand to hand combat. He always prefers to sit back and use his trusty throwing daggers. He quickly fired off four shots, all aiming for the centipede's eyes.

As three daggers fall short, and richochet to the round with a loud clanging sound, the other adventurers take up arms and join the fray! A single dagger finds it's mark and sinks deep into the creatures eye. The hilt of the dagger rises sharply with the motion of the gigantic beast's head, followed by it's rising trunk and hundreds of lashing arms. The screeching cry bellowing from deep within the oversized insect shakes the cavernous Main Hall.

Giving up on examination of the rune at the end of the blackened hallway,  Morcant turned to check with the others. It appears the rune is simply that - a deeply cut stone at the end of an odd, or perhaps secret, passageway. Beyond that, Morcant can find no other explanation.

Ptolmek snapped to attention. It was as if a large felt blanket had been over his head and now removed. For some reason the sensation reminded him of the ritual masking ceremonies often performed by natives of the Andorian Plains, a bloodthirsty bunch of barbaric elves north of Ptolmelk's bleak homelands. Ptolmek consulted the map briefly and suggests they next explore the Main Hall and Kitchen.

In agreement with his suggestion, the party moved as one, swiftly to the large chamber. The room resembles the storage chambers of an ancient museum. A varied and vast collection of items displayed throughout the Main Hall bounce light off solid gold, and refract rainbows through hanging gems and crystalline artifacts.

A massive archway invites visitors into the next chamber to the west. A mural of geometric patterns covers the ceiling. Where the mural fails to cover the ceiling it is adorned with naturally growing crystalline stalactites.

A closed narrow door made of ornately carved wood sits between two other doors on the east wall. Also on the east wall a large leather strap hangs from half a brass orb which sits flush with the door jam, halfway down a closed wooden door.

Unfortunately, the room is dominated by a Large Monstrous Centipede curled up atop a pile of ornate furniture, tapestries, and crushed works of fine art. As the party enters the room, the foul monstrosity stirs, and descends his mounded hoard in favor of feasting on the unexpected meal.

What do you do?

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.

What do you do?

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.

Gurin burst with excitement. "Ahh what a rush! That experience will make another great fireside Firebeard story!" Of course the mystical rune was something he wished he could know more about. Imagine having one for the sleeping chambers!

While he imagined the early years with the missus, his feet guided him out into the hallway. One of the adventurers commented on the tattered crossbow he was toting. Sure enough what was just recently ornate decoration was moth-eaten tatters. He left the crossbow behind as he headed through the hall back into the south western room.

Morcant chuckled to himself as he watched the aura of the dwarf turn to an amorous shade. One thing did strike him about the dwarf's thoughts: this was the second mysterious rune they had encountered so far. He asked the other adventurers if they could spot a pattern in the usage of runes here.

The first seemed to emanate darkness and this one a gilded light. Perhaps the next would create heated water for all we knew, but he felt sure this was not the last rune they would encounter.

The party took Ptolmek's lead and assembled in marching order down the westbound corridor. A steady whistle can be heard throughout the bending hallway. Some unfinished construction indicates expansion of the vault was begun in this hallway. Now the dust and grime of centuries has piled up, rendering the mason's plans useless.

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.  

What do you do?

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.

His frustration continued to mount, in proportion to his fear. A fleeting thought occurred that he may be able to yell to the others the exact method used to open the door. Even though he hoped against the propertie of the thick granite door, he shouted about visible cracks, pressure, and doors. The screams fell silently to the floor where they were swallowed by the rushing waves of sand.

Standing still, and seemingly calm, Miranda glances at the ceiling - looking for any aid to stem the tide of sand racing into the room. Prominently positioned in the center is a glowing rune. It illuminates the chamber, and until now went unnoticed for the most part. The method was unusual compared to the torch sconces they had seen to this point in the vault.

Climbing on a sturdy weapon rack, Miranda positions her feet securely on several wall rungs. She quickly inspects the rune, trying to both depress it, turn it, and remove it. To no avail - the stone is firmly fixed in place. But the glowing portion appears to have been added to the original stone. To Miranda it looked like finely crafted glass poured into an etching or deeply chiseled grooves.

Failing to move the stone in any way, Miranda brandishes her dagger in anger. She grasps the metal and leather wrapped hilt tightly and backhands the butt against the glowing glass. The tinkling sound of her tapping against the rune's magic imbued light source infuriated her further!She whaled away at the lighted stone with a ferocious volley of smashing blows - each harder and more pronounced than the last.

Her attempt tired her legs, shook her body, and offset her balance - and she fell. Face first into the sand and soot. The rack of weapons, luckily, fell the other direction as she crashed against it on her way to the ground. Face down in the granite sands she feared this was the end of her adventure.

Then the sounds of the sands shifted. At first one tinkling bell, then another soon after with a sightly tinnier sound. Then quickly, like crystal rain falling, shards of glass fell around her. The shattered rune ceased it's glowing, and the chamber was darker than a moonless night.

The sound of stone grating against stone could be heard. A vibration began to build in the floor below their feet. The sands shifted around Miranda's hands and knees as she began to stand again. Gurin's feet quickly sank back down through the vibrating table of sifted granules to find rest on the hard granite floor. The tone of the cascading earth changed as well. It sounded as if the flowing was increasing!

Meanwhile, fumbling with the wall outside, Morcant is blinded by an image from Gurin. He sees clearly the very crack which the dwarf exploited for entry. Morcant moves determinedly to the exact spot and asks the others for assistance as he pushed against the mighty granite door.

As the door gave way a smooth flow of ashen sand fell out to cover their feet. The door continued to move slowly and became jarred against the pile in the room. Light poured in from the torches they carried and danced across the faces of the frightened few inside.

Slowly the grains continued to sift themselves toward the exposed drain in the center of the room, like a giant hourglass. The vibrating chamber rattled with the clinking armor and assorted weaponry. As Miranda took to her feet, finally, she looked around in awed surprise. The once glistening armor, and untarnished blades had changed. The fine lustre which adorned each instrument of warfare had faded, their true condition now showed clearly. It would seem the rune's glow cast far more than light.

What do you do?

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.

Morcant stands outside the room chatting with Ptolmek. He'd ratehr the smaller travelers gear up while they formulate a strategy for delvign deeper. Blackbird joins the conversation between Morcant and Ptolmek. It would appear nothing at hand would enable him to be better equipped either. Drawing closer are Piker and Lisabelle, both curious of the room's contents. But both still looking a bit rattled by the encounter in the Chapel.

As the small assembly murmured, Marlit entered the room and passed Miranda. Her eyes fell on a chain jerkin that had not lost any luster after all the centuries of being buried in the vaults. Marlit reached for the fine armor, and removed it from it's perch.

Suddenly, the hidden door which Gurin opened smoothly and quickly slammed closed. All three jerked their heads away from the fine weaponry in their hands and stared with fear at the sealed chamber wall. Just as shocked were the taller members of the party still outside. Ptolmek's own boot almost got caught in the closing doorway.

Unbeknownst to the safer members of the party, the armory opportunists in the locked cube now faced another danger. Four stone blocks, which were previously unnoticeable in the upper corners of the small room, slowly began to drop open. Starting like a slow rain, a few small grains of sand begin to topple over the opening maws. But rapidly, a deluge of granite sand and thick powdery ash poured into the room. Cascading over the armor, weapons, and racks the mixture quickly piled up on the cold granite floor which would soon become a tomb.

What do you do?

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.

Miranda notes Gurin advancing down the hallway and decides to follow him - closely. He appears to have noticed a a significant crack in the wall. Maybe a cache of treasure!, she thinks. Thinking of treasure made her feel hungry, like a dragon.

Not that trinkets would interest the Backwards Man. He had only interest in one object. Some artifact in the form of a miner's pick. Miranda greatly dreads that meeting taking place again and shudders silently.

Certain the dwarf is on to something, Miranda edges in closer and assists Gurin in searching the wall. Together two two eventually find a seem which allows them to manipulate the crack wide enough to secure a good hold. A section of wall makes a loud grinding noise as it pivots open.

Miranda heads in first, seemingly unconcerned about possible traps. Lit by a glowing rune embedded into the ceiling, it is apparent what the room is as soon as the door opens. An Armory!

Racks after rack of shining armor, leather padding, and spiked hemlets fill the center of the small room. Along the wall pikes, crossbows, daggers, battle axes and warhammers hang from granite rungs. Unfortunately, all the weaponry and armor are only sized to meet the need of dwarves.

What do you do?

Piker Silentall sets right to work inspecting the bodies of the shriekers and fungus that fell in battle. The dire rats had since retreated and would cause him no harm. After all, they did appear to be fighting with the group. Amid one incongruous pile of shrieker remains he finds only a large bone like calcification deposited around a necklace's dangling ornament. He turns toward the altar Miranda is eying and stands to approach it as well.

Lisabelle, relieved the fighting has ended with little bloodshed - of their own - offers thanks the Albino Elk. She glances around the room, taking a mental inventory of everyone's whereabouts and well being. A hereunto unknown fear swept over her when the room was enclosed in fog. Never before had she been so terrified of being cut off, alone, and directionless. She quickly asks others if they are hurt and begins to administer healing to them.

Blackbird moves toward the stone door to the south and prepares to open it, then stops and calls to Miranda and Piker. "Might one of you know a thing or two about stone doorways in vaults?" He stands aside and allows one of them to approach - gesturing toward the closed door. "Take caution Miranda ... You weren't privy to my earlier attempt at disarming a trapped chest."

While Miranda gathers the silver and gold instruments of worship (value 50 GP) left to time atop the abandoned altar, she hears her name called. Putting the last of the items into her bag, she dashes to Blackbird's side to be of assistance. Taking her time, and using great caution, she looks for traps on the stone door as well as floor before it, the walls next to it, and the ceiling above.

From all she can tell there appears to be a Wall Blade trap rigged to this thick stone door. There is no sign of a device trigger or control. Her best guess is that simply opening the door releases the limb severing blade from it's recess. And she is uncertain if the blade resides in the ceiling, the floor, or either of the walls. "Because," she tells Blackbird, "there are precisely as many slits cut out of the stone surrounding this door..."

Marlit stands back and takes a deep breath. She leans against the wall opposite the alcove, overlooking the entire scene. Although she can't make out any signs or symptoms of injuries visibly - her gut tells her otherwise. "Better safe than sorry, who knows how deep we'll delve yet..." she mumbles to herself. She casts a spell of healing to aide Lisabelle's efforts.

Ptolmek Skarab receives aide from Lisabelle, and feels an inward rejuvenation overcome him. Not since his youth had he ever been more ready to stand, and fight again. And fighting was uncalled for, the battle had already been won! With joy and excitement he joins Blackbird near the stone door. Gripping his enchanted steel mace, which begins to glow in anticipation as well, both are ready to head into the fray once more.

The clearly audible clink of metal cleaving from metal issues forth from somewhere behind the stone door as Miranda stands to her feet and backs up several steps. The sound is followed by the slowly increasing slither of chain links sliding through hidden passageways. Quicker and quicker the snake coils it's way forward to it's final destination. Slower and slower the collective breath of the party shallows.

Suddenly, the crashing clang of massive cymbals sound on either side of the stone door. A blast of stale dusty air shoots out covering Miranda, Piker, and Blackbird in ancient dust. And still the sound of chains coiling down onto some unseen chamber floor continues.

"We'd better make haste before the upper blade decides to drop," Miranda states flatly. She pushes the stone door firmly, and with little effort it swings aside to rest in a recess inside the hallway.

Through a seemingly one sided conversation, Morcant apologizes to the party for setting the tapestry ablaze. Most everyone is too keyed up with nervous tension over the trapped door to listen. In retrospect, he thinks to himself, the fire was not such a wonderful notion.

When the halfling declared the door trap free Morcant decided it was time to take Gurin with him to wander the southern hallway. The armory should be just ahead, and he felt as most of the others did, that this was a room they needed to explore. He was quite certain, however, they would be searching for a secret entrance.

Gurin woke suddenly, regaining full control of his axe and both legs. His quick cat nap left him feeling rejuvenated, if not confused about how he could doze during such a scuffle. Suddenly, Gurin had a driving passion to search for a secret armory, and he began following Morcant like a loyal puppy.

Moving quickly past the others, Gurin bursts down the hallway into thickening darkness. On either side of him rise the impenetrable granite walls from which the vaults were carved. Yet somehow, he appears to be searching for seams, cracks, fissures, or ... doors. "Ah ha!" he exclaims.

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.

What do you do?

Ptolmek tugs against the loose tentacle attached to his chest. Gathering the slack, he turns quickly and slams the plant's slithering arm against the cold hard stone wall. The fibers of the thick arm audibly crack, but begin to reassert their strength to subdue Ptolmek. Crushing the vile thing between the wall and his shield, again and again, he relentlessly pummels the enemy until it yields, and dies. Several more assertive smashes ensure Ptolmek he has succeeded.

Piker stares down in horror as a violet fungus busily attaches itself to his body. He wriggles like a talented street performer impersonating a successful escape artist, and surprisingly evades capture. Once free he quickly dives and rolls toward Morcant who is in a far worse situation.

Drawing his rusty dagger from it's sheath, Piker slices repeatedly at one of the thick tentacles binding Morcant. He is soon joined by Ptolmek who also begins damaging the violet fungus threatening Morcant's life.

Lisabelle grimaces as she rips at the fungus planting itself on her body. Lockjaw emerges from the mist covered in shrieker blood. He spots a fungus taking hold of Lisabelle's tunic and pounces. As the badger rips the fungus apart, the stink of blood on his fetid breath covers Lisabelle. And she's never loved him more.

A quick glance around lets her know everyone could use more help in this situation. Hopefully the Albino Elk will provide. Calling another flame to her fingertips, she closes her eyes and begins praying. With eyes closed, as heat builds around her outstretched hand, Lisabelle hears the slowly building chorus of squeaks and grunts. A pack of dire rats emerge from a small crack behind the altar and begin to chew on the many tentacles still tying the party down.

Gurin felt his legs bind up. No worries a quick swing of the axe... oh seems they've got that too. Never one to panic, Gurin pummeled the violet fungus tentacle with the a thundering fist from his non-axe hand. "Let's introduce these little snots to Mr. Pain." The proboscis jumps, but redoubles it's efforts, aware it reached living prey. Gurin continues pummelling the plant as a dire rat approaches and begins gnawing it as well.

Morcant viewed a room filled with the auras of starving creatures. He kept a level head and projected a feeling of being completely stuffed and tired from digestion. Almost sending himself into a food coma, wanting nothing more than to sleep after having been stuffed, he was glad to see it seemed to be working. The plant fibre tasting his neck released first and began to lay slack on the floor.

The small success gave him the encouragement needed to broadcast his thoughts into the entire room. Although his eyes were closed, he could sense the auras shifting toward satiated lethargy. Not only were the violet fungus feeling satisfied, but the dire rats sense the tired and dormant prey. They begin feverishly devouring the waiting buffet.

As the commotion of the room begins to settle so too does the thick cloud of mist. Almost dissipated completely as the party finds itself free of the threat of violet fungus. The dire rats sent by the Albino Elk retreat far faster than they arrived. And, once more, they adventurers stand in the close quarters of the ancient chapel. Surrounded, at this time, by the dead corpses of a far different congregation than any of them ever convened.

What do you do?

Miranda's petite nose wrinkled at the horrid smell of tapestry burning, and tickled from the magical mist that appeared. She hoped the fog was a result of Marlit's spell - and not some noxious gas released by a misstep.

Nevertheless, she was surprisingly comfortable in the arcane fog. Like a silent warning on the lips of the damned she slithers towards the alcove. Miranda ignored the chaos and confusing of the rest of the party. Slipping into the alcove through the open portcullis she began to investigate the Tiny Stone Altar.

As she reached to tilt or turn the altar, however, he hand was caught by a tentacle. The oozing proboscis shot out of the thick pea soup without her noticing. But the slime and suction of it's tether were quite detectable. Glancing at the thick cord she recognized it belonged to a violet fungus. A threat which often accompanied shriekers.

Using a choice word he'd heard from a hard man in a rough bar, Piker rubs his eyes and blinks. Being blinded from Morcant's flame spell, his face now burned and his hands hurt. Clutching the looted dagger he edges toward the nearest shrieker. As he slices in the thick fog, the dagger finds a mark. The unmistakeable torrent of screams ensures Piker he tearing a nearby shrieker to shreds. Not yet dead, the bobbing cap attempts to push him away with it's erratic movements.

As Gurin's axe blade slices the shrieking shroom, Lisabelle follows suite and shouts "Lockjaw, kill!" She grins at the chaos around her. If it weren't for the dire straights the party was in she would laugh at the ineptitude of the plan unfolding.

As Lockjaw dives through the bank of thick fog, and out of sight, Lisabelle listens closely. Never one to disappoint, Lockjaw follows orders perfectly. The familiar growling, snapping of sharp teeth, and chorus of crying yells let's Lisabelle know the second shrieker is being effectively torn asunder.

She points in the direction of the shrieker crying out under Lockjaw's bite and casts a fireball. The flame licks at her palm, and swirls around back of her hand. Smoothly the fire slides toward her outstretched fingers and pools, floating, in the space between them. It glows brightly for a moment, then shoots with precision and speed toward the enemy. Perhaps it was the diminished line of sight which caused her flame to go astray. The ball of fire whizzed past Lockjaw's query, and instead aided Piker in his destruction of the remaining shrieker.

Ptolmek is thankful for the steel gauntlets which protect his hands from the worst of the flames. But feels dismayed by the lack of unity in the group. Inwardly he wonders how they will ever succeed at their mission if they can't work as a team. Ptolmek drops the tattered fragments of burnt tapestry. In the blindness caused by the mist, he feels around for the wall. Turning his back to the wall he draws the heavy mace into action. Ptolmek wouldn't flippantly swing the heft of the mace without clear sight. He waits for the mist to clear.

In the white cloud Blackbird can hear the cries of dying shriekers from across the small room. He squats down on his haunches to avoid being hit by any attacks that are being thrown. Calling out his position near the alcove, he feels a body move past him. And moments later, he feels the stick suction of a violet fungus tentacle grip the back of his neck.

Marlit is both satisfied and frustrated with herself. The spell was executed perfectly. Too perfectly. Amid the wailing, and the unexpected burst of light shooting across the chamber, she readies another spell to release the mist from her command to coalesce. Within moments the incantation is uttered quietly, and the fog begins to clear slowly.

The dying cry of the shriekers is soon met with another danger. The ire of the violet fungus in the room has been stirred. Their symbiotic hosts, and primary lure, have been eliminated. With a frenzied lashing of whips and tentacles, all the violet fungus present surface. Their only desire is to retain any prey that passed into their space - and ensure their next meal doesn't escape. Perhaps another shrieker will come along soon.

Several new violet fungus plants emerge from small cracks in the granite, from behind chapel seating, and from within the alcove. Each with several, wildly flung, slime coated proboscis shooting toward the party. Five slimy ropes curl around Morcant's appendages. His arms, legs, and neck are all tied up - and the fungus begins pulling him back toward itself. Gurin feels two grip his legs, and one wrap itself firmly around his axe.

Two land on Blackbird McAllister - on the back of the neck, and on the left ankle. Three find purchase on Piker Silentall. One on Miranda, Ptolmek, Marlit, and Lisabelle each - most landing squarely on their torsos. Lockjaw devours the shrieker's remains - but remains unhindered by the tentacles.

What do you do?