Boona moved up to shadow Bryony, glancing distrustfully back at the haunted doors....

"Can we take a short rest here?" Jurgen asks

Boona sits down and then lies down using her maul head as a pillow.

"Strike! Strike now!" hisses Mormesk, sensing your hesitation, its glowing (and slightly battle-damaged) skull half-emerged out of the roof of the building behind you. "KILL the guard, my blood-filled looters. KILL it. The Forge will be OURS." 

On the other hand, if you instead agree to proceed with a short rest, somebody should roll a d20 and a d12 on behalf of the party.

Ruven glances back at Jurgen at the question, noticing that he's been injured for seemingly the first time. Ah...yes little kobold. Perhaps it would be beneficial to rest up here once we've scouted the area, rather than near that foul wraith, however.

d20: 18 d12: 6

Bryony sits down next to Jurgen and grimaces at his wounds. "I didn't realize you were hurt so badly," she says. "Let me help." The halfling starts tending to Jurgen's wounds, cleaning them and bandaging them.

Medicine (for flavor, mainly) - 14

Unless you have other plans, the party takes a Short Rest at the top of the escarpment without interference. 

It's not particularly restful. The wraith continues to stare and hiss through the roof of its ruined building below. ("Go! KILL the guard! It's right there – inside those doors!") And the periodic booming waves seem louder here – they're definitely coming from the north, past the far side of the building ahead.

But the cave here otherwise remains quiet. Everyone may receive the benefits of a Short Rest. 

"Ok. That feels better. Thank you Bryony. We ready to continue deeper in?" Jurgen says

Boona stretched and got up and began walking towards the first building...

Quinn has keeps to himself. He’s never dealt with a wraith before and he’s beginning to question if they’re up to this task. He takes a short nap and wakes up feeling better, but still unsure of the situation. 

“how’s everyone feeling? Jurgen, you doin’ okay?”

He looks to Bryony. “Those bandages look good. Nice work.”

"Yes and Thanks Quinn and Bryony. I'm feeling MUCH better. I also did some mending on Draco too." Jurgen says while peering down the tunnel to the north

"Feeling much better," says Bryony. "Let's check out this next building. Do we really want to do what that wraith says though? He doesn't exactly like us."

The double doors to the next building are scorched and cracked, one of its iron hinges partially melted. But it stands slightly ajar.

"Yes! Yes! That door!" hisses the wraith in the distance, its dead translucent skull half-emerged from the other building. "KILL it!"

Ruven rolls his eyes and sighs. We shall need to destroy the wraith simply to halt his insufferable, blustering vociferations. I would step back, ever wary of traps, please.

Ruven himself stands out of the line of sight with door, and eases it open with his floating spectral hand, assuming it's unlocked and unstuck of course.

Jurgen will also step back but be on the ready if attacked.

The door opens, its hinges screaming from damage and disuse. 

Within is a large workshop, badly damaged by some ancient spell battle that clearly laid waste to this mine. Worktables taking up two corners of the room are scorched, and the plaster has burned off the masonry walls. In the middle of the room, a stone pedestal holds a small brazier in which an eerie green flame dances and crackles. The brazier and its pedestal appear to have been untouched by the forces that destroyed this area.

Behind the brazier of green flames floats a spherical creature measuring roughly four feet in diameter. Four eyestalks protrude from its central mass, two on each side. In the center of the body is a large eye that stares at you. It greets you in a raspy voice you hear only in your head: "State your business..."

(Ruven: Make a History check.)

"Hello there" Jurgen says "You are much nicer than that Wight we saw across the room. He wanted us to harm you. I think he's full of beans."

history 20

Ruven sees the untouched, magically-lit brazier and its pedestal, and from his studies, concludes that this may well be the legendary Forge of Spells in this old and broken workshop.

"Badge numbers," buzzes the raspy voice in your minds. "I need your badge numbers. And your paperwork. You'll need a signed and stamped P-41 form or you will have to leave immediately. See the shift manager for forms. This area is restricted to all mine personnel without a P-41."

Ruven sees the brazier and is momentarily stunned, eyes gleaming. Then he looks up at the creature, realizing he must think that the forge is up and running...but not real sure about the form it's asking for. Ah...I believe the shift manager is not here today...I am to inspect the forge.