At the rogue’s silence, yet seeing the man pause and pay close attention to the sound his tapping was making, the dwarf tromped forward impatiently. “What is it, Nicolai? What do you hear?”
“Its probably nothing.” he replied. “Batons nailed into the wall, paneling nailed to the batons. It creates a gap. But then again…”. He slipped off his pack and fished around for a few seconds until his questing hand found the jemmy. Returning his attention to the panelling he carefully ran his fingers around the edges of the filigree trying to feel for something he might get his jemmy into. Then he laughed to himself and stood up. Trying to be subtle in a ruin of all things! He backed out of the way.
“Open it with the back of your axe Feldard. Unless you want a blunt axe if there is stone behind there and I’m not going to be held responsible for doing that!”
Miklos stayed by the door keeping an eye out, but on hearing Nicolai’s suggestion he pushed the door closed, no point in advertising their presence too far.
Maruc wandered over to the others and stood at the back and waited to see what the panel revealed. He bit back a comment about how much time they were spending, but he didn’t want to miss some vital clue or walk straight past the entrance to some dark vault that contained their quarry.
Feldard’s expression brightened at the offer to smash something. The only problem being his axe was, as typical for most dwarves, a double-bladed axe. There was no back to it.
“Stand back.” Feldard motioned the others back a distance behind him and angled himself to the panelling so that his blow if it did strike something more resistant than mere timber, such as stone, that it would glance off harmlessly. He swung at the wall in a sheering stroke, attempting to peel off the wood fresco panelling from what lay behind. CHUNK! The wood was thick, but dry and the dwarf’s axe lodged in the wall.
Ah, Saeth realized. This must be why Dwarves prefer axes to other weapons. Just as well–better that than wearing down a perfectly good sword blade on it. She winced, seeing the fresco crumble beneath Feldard’s axe, but knew that it had to be done for the sake of their quest.
Hasan turned away, unwilling to see the defilement of his clan’s history. Still, he listened close, curious what the dwarf’s rough labors would yield.
With a few more axestrokes, Feldard could tell that the wood was reinforced by a metal backing. He could also tell that, concealed in the grooves of the elven carving, was a small gap running down the center of the fresco, down through the center of the carved representation of the Temple. It was the dwarf’s opinion that this was an entryway of some kind.