Eldrin steps around the ooze, the fading embers of his spell still glowing faintly on the stone. He peers down the narrow hall, eyes narrowing at the collapsed passage choked with rubble and dust.

“Hmmm. A loop,” he murmurs, noting how the path curls back toward the main chamber.

He crouches to study the stonework. His fingers hover just above the fallen masonry, not touching, but observing, tracing the layering of carved stone and fault lines in the collapse.

“We could clear it,” he muses aloud, “but it would take time… and manual labor”

He rises smoothly, turning to the others, eyes flicking toward the unopened secret doors Lyra had discovered earlier.

“There are still doors untried—two, if I recall. One north, one east. If the architecture continues in symmetry, they may lead to sealed chambers rather than more collapsed passages.” Then his tone sharpens, more decisive: “I recommend the easternmost. If the god of this place favored symmetry in structure as in worship, that may be the heart of it.”

He looks to the group, gaze calm, assured. “Shall we?”

Meira stows her bow on her back then steps forward to retrieve her lantern from where she'd dropped it on the floor.  As they follow the hallway around past the remnants of the ooze, she keeps a close eye out for any other hidden doors. Assuming none are seen she then proceeds out the door at the north end. "We just came through one of the doors," she notes to Eldrin. "But there's one more secret door headed north." 

(Perception: 21) 

[OOC: Shoot, did I get the door wrong? Thanks for the correction @Meira]

Meira,

Halfway down the corridor, you spot another secret door on the Eastern wall. Opening it, you see another corridor that ends abruptly in a pile of rubble 25 feet down. Before the rubble, there are two doors—one to the North and one to the South, directly across from each other.

(For brevity) The Southern door opens into a room with a collapsed ceiling—nothing of value is found here. The Northern door opens to what looks to be a vestry. An empty stone font juts out of the southwest wall. A stone wardrobe against the east wall holds the rotted remains of two suits of red leather armor

Meira steps into the Northern room and looks around. She starts with taking a look at the stone font for any details. She then moves on to the stone wardrobe. Carefully, she looks to see if there is anything that might still be intact amongst the rotted leather.

(Investigation: 18)

Meira,

Stepping into the Northern room, you peer at the empty stone font. You surmise this place was likely intended to be inscribed with something, but the designer never finished their work. The font is decorated in an elaborate stone border depicting a chain wrapping around the space. Moving to the stone wardrobe, you look closer at the rotting leather armor. The red faded, and the leather cracked in several places. This armor is useless, and pieces flake off at the slightest touch, filling the space with dust. Nothing else remains in this wardrobe.

"Shall we get going then?" Zephyros asks his allies. "We should hurry to the gnomes and see if they have anything useful to bring back to Phandalin." The soldier adds.

After Meira found nothing of value Zephyros then briefly states, "However, I am quite open to any of your suggestions, friends."

Zephyros stands at the doorway, waiting for his comrades to decide what to do next.

Eldrin lingers by the doorway of the vestry, arms folded behind his back as he surveys the desolate chamber. His gaze lingers on the font’s unfinished carvings, the chain motif, and he steps forward, running gloved fingers along the edge with thoughtful precision.

“Unfinished,” he murmurs. “Curious. A symbol of restraint or binding, perhaps. Abbathor’s creed etched in stone, but never completed.” He straightens, expression unreadable, though a slight tightening of his jaw suggests something unsettled in the incompletion. “It seems even greed knows interruption"

Meira nods. "Yes, we should keep moving and head back to the main chamber. There was another door to try there." She is ready to follow the others back to that spot. 

The young cleric peers into the vestry, her brown eyes flicking from the rotting leather armor to the carved font. Her expression turns thoughtful as she takes in the remnants of worship once devoted to an evil god. It reminds her, in a way, of her own temple—similar in structure, yet so different in spirit.

Lyra lingers a moment, reflecting. Evil and good have coexisted for thousands of years, and likely will for thousands more. There's nothing she can do to change that. All she can do is keep believing in her goddess and, with any luck, spread a little of her light wherever she goes. 

The thought brings a quiet smile to the halfling's face. She touches the holy symbol at her neck, resting beside the magical moonstone, and sends a brief prayer, or perhaps a promise, to Tymora. Then she tucks the holy symbol—a silver coin bearing the image of the goddess's face, surrounded by shamrocks—back under her clothes.

When the others finish speaking, Lyra breaks her silence with a grin. "Fingers crossed that room's still standing! I was expecting a bit more temple to poke around in!" She then falls in step behind Meira, heading toward the last unopened door.

Yarina leads the way back out to the main chamber, lighting the way with her torch. "I'll be glad to get out of this place," she murmurs, shaking her head, "It might be better off buried, but that is the dwarves' decision."

Meira speaks in a quieter voice to reply to Lyra. "Does make you wonder what might have once been down those caved in passages. Fabulous treasures? Or disturbing horrors?" She holds back a bit, letting others take the lead. 

Everyone,

You head back to the main room of the temple and stand next to the secret door in the Northern wall. The wall here is cold to the touch. Not overly cold, but definitely noticeable. Upon opening the door. the cold increases. The hallway comes to a tee intersection only 10 feet North. The Western passage ends abruptly with rubble blocking the way. The Eastern passage ends twenty feet down the narrow corridor at a closed door. The closer you get to the door, the colder the air becomes, until it's almost unbearable to everyone except Yarina. 

What would you like to do?

Although she is keeping towards the back of the group, Meira can still feel the bitter cold as they move down the eastern passage. "What could be causing that frigid cold? Do we have some way to keep someone warm? Have them just pop open the door then drop back here with the rest of us.  If it's already this cold, I'd hate to see what it's like in that room!" She tries to think what they might have. "Could torches help a little to keep us warm?" 

As they walk, Lyra talks quietly with Meira. "You know? After all we've seen, I'm not sure I want to know. But if I had to bet, I'd put my money on the latter!"

When they reach the last door they need to investigate and begin to feel the biting cold, Lyra tries her best to withstand it, wrapping her arms around her chest. But as the chill grows almost unbearable, she leans toward Meira and clutches at her clothes. Through chattering teeth, she adds, "P-p-p-perhaps Yarina sh-should be the one to o-o-open this room?"

The small cleric touches the dragonborn quickly before rushing a few feet back through the passage, where she rubs her hands together and does little jumps to try to warm up.

Yarina doesn't seem to notice the cold until she sees the reactions of the others. "Ah, right! The rest of you stay back while I take a look." She nods resolutely and steps forward, setting her torch down and trying the door to see if it is locked.

Zephyros looks down and subtly shakes his head. "Some things are better left undisturbed..." The experienced veteran quietly warns.

Then Ironheart adds with renewed courage, "My strength is at your command, my friends. Should you choose to open it, I shall defend your lives with my own."

Meira places a hand on Lyra's shoulder, trying to be reassuring. "Just have to put up with the cold for a moment."  Try as she might to show no sign that the cold is affecting her, she still finds herself shivering a bit as well. "Let's just see what Yarina find. C-can't leave her out in the cold can we?"  She chuckles weakly at her attempted joke.  

Eldrin steps forward, the frost-laced air brushing against his face like the breath of an unseen sentinel. His eyes narrow behind the faint fog of his breath as he stops just short of the door. One gloved hand rises, fingers spreading in a slow, deliberate motion.

“I do not trust this cold,” he murmurs. “It's too… purposeful.”

Reaching into the folds of his robe, Eldrin retrieves a small strip of copper wire, running it between his fingers as he begins to intone a soft incantation, crisp, precise, like the turning of a page in an ancient tome. As the final syllable leaves his lips, his eyes glimmer briefly with a pale sapphire light, and he draws in a breath through his nose as if tasting the arcane essence around them.

[OOC Eldrin casts detect magic again. Unless it has been <10 minutes since the last cast in which case he is looking to see if the source of the cold is arcane]

Meira,

The two torches carried by Yarina and Zephyros sputter and struggle to stay lit as the group move down the corridor. They don't seem capable of providing warmth to the party currently.

Lyra,

Your divine guidance flows into the dragonborn giving her much needed encouragement to press on. Your jumping does help keep the blood flowing through your extremities, but you still feel the bitter cold biting into your exposed skin.

Yarina,

You place your torch at your feet and try the door. You find it unlocked, but stuck closed and cold to the touch. 

Zephyros,

You stand ready as always to intervene should the need arise. Trident poised to strike.

Eldrin,

You recite the required incantations to renew your detect magic. The moonstone hanging from Lyra's neck pings with an aura of magic, but nothing else catches your attention in this corridor.