Saeth, in the rear, leaned against the post of the staircase and sighed, waiting for the leaders to open a door. Or doors–with the wizard dead, she didn’t see much threat at all that his chambers might pose.
At the rear of the line Miklos could make out little of the passageway beyond. He stepped to one side as he entered to get a better look.
“Well, this isn’t Planar Arcania. Let us introduce ourselves to the occupants of the first room. After you naturally.” he added with a hint of amusement.
“One door at a time, if this one was researching the same dark magics as Sevastian, then there may well be undead lurking around the place here as well. I doubt those Orcs and undead would have mixed well, and unlikely that Orcs would be allowed near his researches. They didn’t exactly appear to be the brightest gems in the dragon’s horde, did they?”
Allowing the others better access to the door (and room to swing if necessary) Maruc moved futher into the corridor to the left. He thought back to his meditations whilst the others positioned themselves. The communing with ones God was an exhilarating experience. It was a dichotomy of being at immense peace yet filled with an urgent drive of purpose. After each event he felt strangely exhausted yet rested and relaxed. It wasn’t sleep mores the pity, he was still unused to the travelling and he felt run down overall.
There wasn’t much running about in the cloister. Ahh but what would the Abbot say about him now? May be one day he would find out. But moreover he would find out who burned the cloister down and why. Still on job at a time Maruc. The Sons of Night are your first priority. Revenge is for later. No, not revenge, Closure.
He was finding it easier to handle, summoning the magic. He began to understand the nature of the casting and his latest channelings felt more natural. It was challenging not to be drawn into self gratification and pride, but that was what it was all about. The prayers and the books and the cycle of monastic life. It was all there to keep your feet on the ground if you became worthy and were chosen.
Maruc was chosen and he would prove himself worthy. He shook out his chain flail waited for the first door to be opened.
Feldard moved to the first door at the top of the steps and took hold of the handle testing to see if it were locked. He opened the door, not really expecting anything to jump out after well over 6 hours of waiting. He glanced over the rooms interior briefly for any apparent threat.
The room was lit by a fireplace in the center of the east wall. Wood was stacked in a recess to the right of the fireplace; the rest of the walls were lined with bookshelves. There were two armchairs and a small table by the fire. A large desk in the southwest corner of the room has papers and two globes on it. Covering the floor is a plush Ylari rug of geometric design woven in a rich blood red on a pale background, with a deep-black and blood-red border.