Cool. Lots of crits 

You feel a wisp of air sweep through the room. The room fills with a minor foul order, like mild rotten eggs. Doesn't seem Dragon was the word to get a resolution. As you all look around, your noses start drip from the odor.

Pru wrinkles her nose at the odor and then starts fidgeting more than usual.

"Well that wasn't it," Pru says. As she speaks she begins scratching at her collar and then the sleeves of her leather armor.  "Can you spell the name of a devil or demon with those letters?"

She hops from foot to foot then sits down with her back against the wall.

"It's getting really hot in here," she says as she unlaces her boots and takes them off, wiggling her toes once she does.

"Maybe shadow next?" As Beryl tries to make more words from the available letters, she sniffles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "Yecch, that stinks."

"Mortal. Suffer. Torture. Flaying. Burned. Corpse." Kaladin suggests. "We need to know if its demons or devils. Huge difference"

The pace of Pru's scratching picks up and she keeps pulling at her leather jerkin, working her fingers under the edges to scratch.

"I'm suddenly so itchy and hot," Pru says.

 She unbuckles the leather and pulls it off over her head, continuing to scratch through her blouse as she does.

Aranor stares at the halfling as if she's lost her mind. When he begins to ask what she thinks she's doing, instead he is overcome by a sense of understanding.

"I understand!" he exclaims suddenly. "I understand...well, everything. It's just so...incredible. It's...let me explain...words can't do it justice," as the high elf babbles he seems to become increasingly frustrated by his inability to convey his sudden epiphany. "Gods damn it!" he finally explodes. "Why must this be so difficult?"

Aranor stalks over toward the runes again and stares at them angrily, as if the force of his withering gaze will force them to arrange themselves into the proper order.

Next word to try?

Beryl looks with concern at the halfling removing her armor and scratching everywhere. "Pru, are you all right?"

"It's my clothes," Pru says, with an edge of desperation in her voice. "Everything is so hot and itchy."

She keeps scratching, and has soon stripped down to just a light tunic that she wears under her leathers.

"The gas did something to me."

Beryl examines Pru and her clothing to figure out what is causing the problem and how to fix it.

Perception : 6 + Bardic Inspiration: 3

Aranor resists the urge to smash the runes and walks over toward Beryl and Pru. He opens his mouth to ask if there is anything he can do to help but more nonsense about knowing the secret of life begins to spill out, and he shakes his head in frustration. Instead, he simply points to his head, as if he's gone crazy, which it certainly feels like he has at the moment.

"Is it just me or is aranor wierder than usual. He's talking like he's a zealot or a heretic, or maybe just crazy?"

Beryl's perception of Pru and Aranor's weird activities leads her to the conclusion that the incorrect word set off  the foul smelling gas. Though she is concerned about the two, she realizes that they pose no harm, yet.

Pru frantically continues to scratch herself with one hand, using the other as a fan to try and cool the sense of heat down.

While she does so she does her best to focus on the dials and letters.

"These people were necromancers, but I don't see any possible words that fit. You mentioned shadow. There might be famine. But also family."

She scratchs the back of one calf with the toes on her other foot.

She then gets much closer to the dials.

"Do you think this could work like a lock with dials too? The words the owner would have put in would have been engaged more. They might slide into place more easily than the other words? Unless each one is independent."

Pru puts here ear right against the wall next to the dials and spins one of the letters slowly, listening for different sounds.

Perception: 3 

(OOC - there was a character I couldn't figure out - thought it was an 'm' but not sure)

"If you can't find something by sound, try family, " Beryl suggests. "This seems to be a family affair, so let's see what that does." 

"Undead. Flower. Zombie. Deaths. Poison. Roses. Smiles., I'm just gonna assume it's not something we can guess randomly"

After about 15 minutes, both Pru and Aranor seem to be returning to normal. Pru looks around and becomes a slight bit blushed. Closely surveying the room, nothin seems to have changed during this passing of weirdness.

Pru puts her leather armor back on while she looks at the runes intently again. As she hops into her boots Pru smiles at the others.

”Here’s to hoping the next word doesn’t release a has that makes me do something really embarrassing.”

She nods at the dials.

”I didn’t hear anything. Let’s try FAMILY,” Pru says.

As Pru hops into her boot and adjust her clothes, she casually spins around toward the dials. starting to dial the word family, she pauses a moment, waiting to see if anyone objects before placing the last ruin.