The dwarf was somewhat disappointed when the room revealed nothing to battle and little of interest save a chest. While Nicolai looked after the chest, Feldard circuited the room, studying the layout of the room for possible secret caches. This was just the sort of place one might expect them.
Maruc filed in after the Dwarf. The room offered very little of interest to him bar a disire to be away from it. He wandered arond the room glancing momentarily at the book shelves then made his way over to the left hand of the two doors and had a listen, then he proceeded to the second to check that too. “Hmm very homely. Oh look a chest, I bet its trapped.”
Miklos’s eye lit up as he recognised the trapping of a study. But his hopes faded as he took in the dishevelled state of the place. “What a shame look at these vails, priceless, and all broken. And a condenser, look this is criminal.” He sniffed the elderly compounds. “Hmm sulphur, and cobalt. This was a fine laboratory in its day. Look at the books!” Miklos dashed over to the bookcase. “Crumbled, broken.”
As her companions filed into the room, Saeth slid back to the door, guarding against attack through the open portal. The dead didn’t seem to move about too much, but no sense in taking risks.
“Mystic Portaliture..” Miklos read out loud as he cleaned the binding with his thumb. The book was falling apart in his hands. Many of the pages were stuck together, and the ink had been rendered blotchy and unreadable. “What I wouldn’t give to have a readable copy of this.”
Leaving the chest to Nicolai, Miklos then headed over to the desk to check if it had a drawer or lid. “This is a disaster, so much knowledge, lost.” Miklos slumped into the chair by the desk shaking his head.
Nicolai checked everywhere for traps. Apparently, the necromancer had felt quite secure in this underground bunker, for nothing was locked or trapped as far as the reformed thief could tell. In the chest were some old moth-eaten black robes. Elaborate embroidery was obscured beneath a coating of earth and dust.
He then joined Feldard in a search for secret doors. They did their best to avoid touching any of the freakish skeletons and strange dried-out chemical compounds. “Ack, what I would do for a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread now,” remarked the young rogue. Their search revealed nothing except for insects that crawled about in various cracks and crevasses.
“How can you think of food right now? Its taking all my willpower to stop vomiting!” Maruc shuddered.
“Hmm yeah. Anyone for zombie stew?”
After Nicolai had inspected the desk for traps, Miklos delicately opened the desk drawer. Despite his precautions, the wood cracked as he gently pulled the drawer open and it fell in his lap. A small dust cloud was kicked up in his face, the noise interrupting the Nicolai and Maruc’s playful banter. Within the drawer were various items common to the study of magic, quills, empty scroll cases, parchment, etc. Strange, how the few scroll cases he found were empty. If this dark mage had kept any scrolls encased, as was the custom, they would be well-preserved. But, unfortunately, there were none to be found. And also no spellbook. Perhaps, the necromancer left long ago and took them with him?
Still, some of the parchment was inscribed with frenetic, tiny scrawl, some of which could still be read. The passages seemed to detail necromantic experimentation, and refer to something called The Dread Night, a day in which the world will be consumed by darkness. It seems that the necromancer was a member of a group of wizards calling themselves the Sons of Night, who made sacrifices to gain them personal power and to help bring the time of the Dread Night closer.