Opening the door fills the room with a bleak feeling of loss. There is nothing unusual about the hallway behind the door, but this feeling won't leave you. You walk forward a bit hoping it ends.

Like a persistent itch from a toxic plant rubbed deep into a wound, the freezing isolation you feel in this hallway is near unbearable. You close the door behind you, everyone having enter the room. You turn around.

What? Where did the others go to? You were just walking in a hallway. There were windows...doors? Where did everything go? You blink.

You are under an open sky, surrounded by the green rolling views of summer. You hear the cries of war, of pain and of rage. An armored dark elf approaches you, and there is a feeling of incoming dread. You blink.

You are back in the hallway. You hear the door click shut behind you. The group is there seems to have hardly noticed, there faces fixed in differing stages of disconcern for the world about them. You all continue on down the long white hallway.

White? When did the walls change color? They were merely carved stone, slate grey! You blink.

You are in desert, beneath a burning sun. The water in your mouth is fleeting and the intense light nearly blinds you. You lift a ring high into the air, looking at it with splendor. A voice calls out to you, and you blink.

You are at the end of the hallway, and there is another door. Everyone is once again unconcerned for your inaudible suspicions. As much as you'd love to protest, to mention these visions, you are unable. You find yourself compelled to walk down this white hallway to another black door.

You place you hand on the handle, and try to turn it, and your hand crushes the metal like a twig. Fur invades the skin upon your nails up your arm and across your face. A snapping, gnawing pain splits through your body as your legs, feet, and arms grow and stretch to accommodate the blessing of a demon. You hear a howl, and you blink.

The door opens, You all step through once again into a hallway of slate stone. It looks like the hallway you were in before the white walls, complete with the ruined windows to the left. You are positive that this is impossible, as you were only able to walk in a straight line.

But you are glad to be gone of this place. Perhaps there are other hallways, other doors to open. Surely there is nothing worth experience such loss of control, such complete overpowering.

You all stand there looking at each other, unsure of who experienced what. Then, you all experience simultaneously the soft mutters and whispers of an elder halfling. It speaks of the monsters in the night.

“Aim for the heart, the blood is the key.” “Use silver” “Blood is the key” “BLOOD!!”

The voice screams and every light source in the room blackens.

In the darkness, a spectral man appears at the end of the room. “You're making a mistake.” “You don't have anything to prove” it whispers from a distance. It begins to fade, its heraldic tabard lingering long enough to recognize the owner as a Lord of a faraway land.

The lights return, and you are all once again in the hallway of stone, with windowed rooms that are much destroyed, and a black door before you. It feels, different, more weighty as you grab it. Opening the door, it leads to a carved rock cave, pitch black with no type of supports leading down.

You are of the mind that whatever happened, was a warning. Whoever you were comes with you to this place, and may not leave the next time that door closes.

15 minutes into the rock tunnel, you come to your first clearing. A large, clearly manually widened section of the tunnel opens up. There's a metal disk with strange symbols on the front embedded in the wall. Underneath it lies a table filled with varied colored liquids. Also all across it are scribbled notes in several languages, and beneath something scribbled particularly aggressively, lay a mirror shard. In the broken glass, you can see that there is a door on the opposite wall, but only in the mirror. With this in mind, you move about the room looking in the mirror and you can also see that the metal disk flips upside down in the reflection as well. 

Continue down the rock path, or enter the mirror door? 

(( Whoo boy... do any of us recognize any of the languages? Going off everyone's character sheets, here's the alternative languages we know:

Onyx: Draconic, Elvish, Primordial
Arbon: Dwarvish, Elvish
Grahl: Deep Speech, Goblin, Orc
Chazrael: Abyssal, Halfling ))

"My, what a bizarre magical doorway! I admit I'm curious, but I don't know about entering it blindly." He looks at several of the notes. "Can anyone read any of these?"

Though the groups list of languages is long, they do not contain giant. Arbon recognized that it is giant from knowing Dwarvish, which itself is a descendant of Giant the way English is from Latin.

You do not *know* the language, but you know what language it is. 

In Abyssal, Chazrael can read the aggressively scribbled note atop the mirror shard. Its a form of greeting, sort of like "welcome" or "please come in" written over and over again. 

At the vision of the armored dark elf Grahls anger rises intending to swing his axe at the creature but before being able to Grahl is back in the hallway. He shakes his head not understanding whats going on. 

(When Grahl sees his hand placed on the doorhandle, before it is crushed. Is it Grahls green hand that he sees or someone else's? ) 

Looking around as they hear the elder halfling his eyes find the spectral man as he speaks. Grahls confusion and anger rises more. Bwah Grahl show you blood! (not having seperated the two voices yet) He lunges forward drawing his axe back ready to make a swing but when he wants to the image fades and Grahl stops his motion. 

Coward magic he shouts while looking around to see where it might of gone. 

Replying to Onyx's question. Grahl no understand these words. 

Confused and rattled by what they have seen Grahl paces around stomping his feet speaking only the name Gruumsh. 

Arbon stands looking around a moment, attempting to reorientate himself. Arbon looks closely, "I know it's giant script, though cannot read it unfortunately. I might be able to make out a word or symbol here and there, but not enough to give you details, sorry my bookish friend."

Chazrael smiles at the note. "It says we're welcome to come in. It's written over and over, which is a bit unsettling." 

Onyx blinked. "It does?" he asked, his interest piqued. "What language is that? I don't recognize it. Hmmm... it doesn't appear to be Elvish or any of the mainstream languages, and that bothers me as much as the insistence on entering."

The warlock smiled, as if having come to some remarkable conclusion on his own. "Well, I guess that's all I need to hear and see. This magical doorway is a trap, so, we just ignore it! Shall we continue?

(( Edited my prior post. And obviously, Onyx is waiting for feedback from at least someone else before just running off ahead down the rock hall; he's not keen on the mirror door, but a good argument could persuade him. ))

Not understanding the magic of the mirror and not wanting to get trapped inside Grahl will move towards the rock tunnel and look at Onyx to reply Go tunnel then. 

(hes not to keen on persuading to go through a portal)

Grahl go find dark elf. He says while looking forward again into the tunnel, gripping his axe while remembering the vision of the dark elf earlier. 

"Haha but is your curiosity not peaked about a door that can only be seen in a mirror? Perhaps it is some poor lonely soul trapped down here? I feel that if you are concerned for traps, you may have come to the wrong place. I think there will be many more to come."

Arbon looks at the wall where the doorway is, then checks it in the mirror, and then back again. 

Arbon sees that the door is only in the wall as long as someone is looking through the mirror, the moment the mirror ceases to display the door, its as if the rock is solid stone once again. 

"Oh, it definitely is! But.... hnngh!" It was almost as if Onyx was expressing his internal struggle through his cringe. "I know I can sometimes be reckless, but even I have my limits.  Sorry. Maybe if we were stronger, but if this were to take us someplace like another plane--I can't imagine we'd survive long."

Onyx places the mirror shard back on the table as everyone turns their heads...

You all continue walking into the rock tunnel, leaving the cursed mirror, unknown chemicals, and suspicious writing behind. As it fades in the distance, you hear the rubbing of metal against rock. It fades as quick as its heard, and the tunnel goes on.

Deeper still, you come to room, a room with a hole in the middle of the floor. There's a metal loop deeply embedded into the rock about a foot away from the hole jutting out like a stalagmite.

Those of you who look down see at least a hundred foot drop into darkness.

Onyx glanced at the hole, then turned to look at Arbon, a smile on his face and a lift in his eyebrows.

Grahl stands near the hole in the ground looking down. Then looking at Onyx smiling at Arbon its clear they want to go down. 

Searching through his backpack Grahl finds one of his torches and ignites it. He holds it up watching it burn waiting till its well lit then tosses it down the hole and watches. Not only checking how far it is down but also seeing if the light and sound of the drop trigger something below. 

(perception to hear/see anything besides the torch hit the floor 20) 

He will then walk to the metal loop and grip it, pulling it to test its strenght. Looking to the group, Go down?

Chazrael nods. "Yes, let's go down." 

Chazreal nods. "Yes, let's go down." 

 "Well now, I think we can handle some dark hole in the ground," said Onyx as he handed a length of rope to Grahl.

Down the long length you each went, Grahl, Onyx, and Arbon, reached the floor, guarding the area around the bottom of the rope. Chazrael looked down and then back at Marchosias who made sure the loop held tight. Chazrael swung down onto the rope, an affirmative head nod between the two is shared and he begins his decent.  30 feet into the climb down, you hear him scream, there is a thud on the floor, and he pops into view. 

"SOMETHING'S UP HERE!"

Marchosias flew down the rope, his hands burning in the rush. Seconds later he collided with Chazrael 40 feet from the ground. The burns began on Chazrael's hands as well, though his gloves prevent any damage, he leaps from the rope to the ground safety as Marchosias finished his slide, the rope covered in the blood of his hands.

His body stood there shaking, a slash across his back leaves three open tears right down to the flesh. 

A second later, a screaming flesh pulp splatters across the floor. Three chains with hooks at the end of them falling seconds behind it, they are covered in blood and small bits of flesh. 

The rope remains strong, and the creature is vanquished. The blood hunters eyes flared with violent rage, attempting to remain calm. 

The room around you is open and dark. the floor is smooth, concrete like, as are the walls. You cannot see the ceiling, except for the opening where the rope comes through, and the rock around it. In the shadows of the Northern wall lay a small rock cavern, about 3 foot high, and 6 feet wide.