Cleaning Warrior on the cultists clothes Arutha then turns to Skorbor and lets out a deep breath. "Shall we finish delivering this shipment and then regroup to find the rest of this organization and cut it's head off?"

"Stupid magics." The dwarf mumbles to himself.  He hesitates for a few moments trying to decide what to do.  He casts around the area to see if the trail picks up anywhere else.  If it doesn't he'll head down the path leading into the cemetery looking around to see if the trail picks up again.

What you see defies logic, Cath. Traever can't fly. He's a drow. Perhaps—

Make a Perception roll.

Skorbor looks out across the street, the site of a bloody attack. The cultists claimed a few citizens, and half a dozen crew members of the Iron Troubadour.

"After you, Arutha. You seem to have better wits about ye, than I."

Arutha walks towards the wagon and climbs up to drive it to the place the shipment was scheduled to arrive at.

Quote from AdventureHalz >>

What you see defies logic, Cath. Traever can't fly. He's a drow. Perhaps—

Make a Perception roll.

 Cath looks around.  Something just isn't right. 

6

It would seem, Cath, that you are indeed preoccupied with the safety of the young boy. You have difficulty focusing your attention on the present. No matter.

You see ahead of you a cobblestone path winding through the grounds. Some 60 feet from you looms elaborately detailed statue of Myrkul. It rises 20 feet from the ground. Even at this distance, with daylight's aid, you can see steps. Several sets of stairs, actually. They head downward in a dizzying torrent around Myrkul, for whom no bells toll.

Arutha, you have the directions to Egrant’s Frontier Shoppe, a five-minute trot from your present whereabouts in the Lower City.

Skorbor keeps a sharp eye out. Not trusting the pedestrians, the shadows, the windows, the doors, the rooftops. Considering your last run-in with the Cloak cultists, can you blame him?

You turn south along the road and come upon your destination. The windows are shuttered. The front door is padlocked.

Egrant's shop is sandwiched tight between two three-story buildings. To either side, residents use the narrow 5-foot-wide allies as a dump for chamber pots. Lost, shattered pots lay strewn about the floor. A talented burglar could climb the space.

If you had any doubts as to the boy's courage, Norvalor, you might as well toss them over a cliff.

Traever hurries over to a prisoner,  unties the man's bindings and sets him free. "The others," the young dark elf says. "Set them free."

On the way back to where you are standing, Traever glances at the pit in the middle of the cell. He leans over. "Norvalor," he starts, pointing. "Do you see that?"

Cath is really grumbling to himself now, his frustration rising.   Looking around he doesn't see anyone.   He's lost the trail and the magic wand seems to have stopped working for him. 

"Ah, hells.  As Da' used to say.   If you dont know where ya be going at least be movin forward. " he mumbles to himself. 

He looks at the statue and the stairs the only place he hasn't really looked as he can't see anything else or anywhere else to go.

"I be a fool." He mumbles some more and heads for the stairway and begins to descend.   He keeps looking around with the wand hoping to see tracks. 

Arutha looks around. "Weren't we supposed to deliver these boots to this place? Why is no one here to receive them?" He slightly suspicious. "Something is not right about this." He walks to the door and pounds on it with his fist.

Skorbor adds, agreeably. "Aye. Egrant was expecting the delivery." The half-orc lifts the padlock. "Arutha, can you pick this?"

The stair well itself is of odd construction, Cath. Steps suddenly start then end. They don't move independently. The steps are fixed. They wind around the god of death, down, down, deep into the earth, where only the dead are left to be. Below you see a chamber. It's dimensions extend beyond the stairwell. The chamber is 20 feet in height. There are no torches, no fires to light your way. Fitting, since they dead no longer need their eyes to see.

The last of your steps follows the deity's heels.

OOC Your passive perception score in combination with your darkvision informs you of many features.

The chamber extends no less than 50 feet in all directions. Three concentric rings of tombs encircle Myrkul's feet. The first ring is comprised of eight tombs. The second twelve tombs. And the third ring, eighteen tombs. The tombs are half-lowered into the earth, inside a depression etched with innumerable runes you can read.

Do not disturb the dead, for when they rise, they bring a cold, heartless anger to a warm, vibrant world.

Three doors, one to your left, and two ahead, offer exits.

Cath peers around the room taking in what he sees.  He walks to each of the doors and looks to see if there is any evidence that they have been opened recently.

Perception rolls one for all (the first roll) or one for each door.

20, 18, 6

The oak doors are locked, Cath. The key hole is the center of door, in the mouth of a screaming skull from which radiate clawed boney fingers. Each finger wears a pewter ring.

You recall seeing a similar construction on your travels before you took up adventuring. The doors are used in temples. But there is no evidence that this underground cemetery hall is a temple. 

Cath finds himself at a seemingly dead end.   After looking around he finds the doors locked.   He has no intention of bashing down any doors in the cemetery unless he knew for sure it led where he needed to go.   But he didn't even know if the child had gone this way.

He again tries the wand but if it doesn't reveal anything to him he will head back up this stairs and continue deeper into the cemetery. 

Arutha draws Warrior once more. "This is the only tool I have to "pick" locks. I could try to break the lock but that is the best I have."

The rod of many detections attempt to attune with you again, Cath Redaxe.

Make a Charisma save.

Skorbor sneers. "Better than nothing," he says, taking a few steps back, giving you, Arutha, clearance.

Aiming warrior at the lock, Arutha takes it in both hands and swings at it with all his might. Attack: 17 Damage: 9