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?