When the book said nothing more in response to his flipping of pages, Feldard slammed the tome shut with a muttered dwarven curse. “What a waste of paper. It’d be better off used to wipe my…” The dwarfs words continued on in dwarven for a bit. For those understanding his cussing, keeping a straight face was difficult.
Still a bit red-faced from his tirade, the dwarf left the tome to the others to gawk over, he busied himself with doing a circuit of the room checking for more hidden doorways or secret passages. This damn place seemed riddled with them.
Hasan was a bit astonished. He gave up the book to Miklos for safeguarding, and joined Feldard in searching the room, although Hasan’s preoccupation with the strange riddle was such that he sincerely doubted his mechanical actions would lead to much good. Finding nothing of great interest, he swiftly gave up and moved to return to the hall beyond, as if further perusal of the great mural might explain things more clearly.
After Feldard snapped the book shut, Miklos tried to pick the book up, but it would not budge from its resting spot.
Meanwhile, the priest joined Nicolai at the coffin he had been working on. “Any luck?”
Nicolai looked up, “Not much. No sign of traps. Might be magical traps but you only live once,” he grunted. He turned to Miklos, “By the looks of the dust these haven’t been disturbed for a long time. If that mage-book is true then they’re not in here anyway. No harm in checking though. Here Maruc give us a hand.” Nicolai fingered the edge of the stone lid for purchase and with the priest’s help tried to slide the lid open a fraction to see within with his lightstone.
Maruc nodded and reluctantly put his symbol back. He gripped the slab with his gauntleted fists the heaved as hard as he could. The lid was very heavy, and it took nearly all of their combined strength to move it.
Inside the coffin lay the skeleton of a woman covered with the tattered remains of a deep black robe.