The Gate

20 spikes, 20 pitons, 50 feet of rope, blocks of incense that repels insects, 5 days of rations, 3 water skins, two bags of caltrops and ball bearings, 6 uses of serpent venom, 10 vials of acid, 5 vials of dragons breath (liquid that burns on contact with air), A bedroll and some light clothes that dry easy.

There are also his toolkits, one for his duty of picking locks and dealing with traps, another for extracting poisons and venom safely to use on others, finally his healer's kit which has everything a field surgeon might need. Generally they would rely on Batul for life saving magic but Thane would deal with more minor injuries to save her efforts should more worrisome wounds come to be.

A shovel, crowbar, chisel and hammer also were among the items he carried. Basic and sometimes heavy equipment but at times necessary and potentially lifesaving.

12 arrows for his short bow, far less than he would like. A regular rapier and three daggers. Not much of an arsenal but it was enough to carry him thus far. Still he knew his arrows wouldn't last him for but a few encounters with their foes and then he'd be stuck with only his blades. What arrows he had left had already been scavenged 4 times over from previous battles, far from ideal and were he by himself he knew this wouldn't be enough. But he could rely on his party to stand where he would fall.

Thrane finishes buckling up his leather armor and nods in approval of his equipment check before waving to his fellow party members and climbing into the trees above them with ease. He was the spotter in the party, the most observant and the best scout. He gives a faint smile despite being somewhat sleep deprived after staying up for so long last night to avoid any further dreams. Seeing a whole civilization being turn into the undead was enough for him for one night.

Dalren took the front of the party with Bhrams at the rear while the rest mingle in the middle, Batul placed firmly in the center as she was their dedicated healer which had been proven time and again to be their greatest saving grace. Without her magic they would have died a long time ago, Thrane nearly lost his life to a multi-headed serpent monstrosity and its venom; only her holy light was able to burn the blight from his body and seal his wounds. Of course Thrane is the best at handling medical supplies such as stitching and bandages, his father was a healer by trade, Marr also has access to a small healing spirit that can only be called while foes are present. This spirit can only slowly heal wounds but it's good to take proper inventory.

They always travel in a formation somewhat similar to this, though whenever they enter a dungeon, Thrane takes the lead to spot ambushes and traps. Right now though, it would seem their caution was wasted as none come to challenge them while they quietly make their way through the city ruins. The silence wears on the rogues weary mind, reminding him of the dream he had just the night before of the vibrant colours which were now worn with time, where children had run and adults done business, there were only empty streets and the occasional corpse one they themselves had slain. It was almost eerie and unsettling how quiet the lost city became after they had cleared so many of the inhabitants in their search for the keys.

Monsters all, deserving of their fate. Both the feral and human in nature, they did naught to be worthy of mercy.

At length they arrived in the cave, and after nearly twenty minutes of discussion over the correct way and if any pattern were needed in the placing of the keys, they had inserted every stone to its place, leading to a section of the wall simply rising up into nothingness and beyond it a long hallway tile flooring and a sturdy metal door, a level to right of it. All of this slowness had worn down on Brhams who swapped with Dalren to be at the front and closer to the action.

Brhams walked beside Thrane who wanted to inspect every nook and cranny as the head of the party, but Bhrams snorted and proudly declared: "It's an empty hallway with a lever for the door. Let's just open it up and get started already!"

Thrane's brow twitched in agitation, a precursor for him to turn on the much larger man and sternly warn him: "No, we've been hit by too many stupid traps before in the temples just to get the keys. What on Earth makes you think there won't be traps here?"

If it were possible for the dragonkin to sneer he would have if the ire in his voice were any indication of his mood. "We'v spent the last day walking around, doing puzzles and not hunting a single beast down. Why should we waste precious daylight on an empty room?"

Thrane put a hand to his head and sighs deeply, it's not that he doesn't agree with Bhrams, he would like to make this as fast as possible but he also wants this to be as painless as possible. While he couldn't say for sure while looking around this seemingly peaceful room, there was a gut feeling that he couldn't deny that was whispering to him that this room could be fatal. But he couldn't spot a single thing here that could confirm his feeling.

Yet, he'd never been wrong about this before.

Ignoring Bhrams he starts inspecting the tiled ground for any sort of pressure plate, unfortunately leading him to snort and stride past the crouched human and make his way over to the lever. It was as his hand grasped the lever the rogue found a seam in the floor, and a quick snap of his head showing that it ran the length of the room straight down the middle. They were standing on platforms not solid ground!

He called out to his companion too late and the trap was sprung, the door did not open but the cavern wall which their keys unlocked now slammed shut and left Pices holding his ears while Thrane shouted out his warning: "The floor is going to fall out!!"

Their only saving grace was the delay, a clicking sound came from nearly every direction while Thrane quickly started hammering his pitons into the wall, a few were handed off to the dwarven warrior who slammed his own in with but a single swing of his great maul, the others had no means to prop themselves up and had to rely on these two for something to stand upon once the floor would fall out beneath them. There was some shouting and urges to work faster but they worked the pitons in a line, one above to grab onto with their hands and one beneath to stand on. Bhrams looked blankly at the lever and rather than rush back simply clenched it with his other hand.

It was 30 seconds, a much panicked 30 seconds but at last they were secure and the stone tiled floor swung down to what looked like an empty pit.

But it took only a moment for that notion to shatter, the sound of scratching filled their ears as their eyes adjusted to the dark. The pit below them was full to the brim with skeletons who clawed at the walls and jumped at the prey which had been denied them.

Thrane's heart rose to his throat as some started climbing over one another and a mound of angry bones was rising in their direction to the nearly defenseless adventurers. There couldn't be less than 70 skeletons in that pit and if any of the fell or were dragged down, they would be so swamped that they couldn't swing a weapon to save themselves. He was the most useless in the group when it came to skeletons as his main weapon was made to pierce flesh and organs, not bust bones. If he tried to stab them the point would dull!

As if knowing who the weakest link was, the swarm of undead were coming for him in particular, bones clattering as they grew ever closer, from the 25 foot pit they were but 2 feet away now and more were coming to pull him down.

Enraged, Thrane turns to Bhrams and shouts at the top of his lungs. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!! IF YOU HAD JUST LISTENED TO ME WE WOULDN'T BE ABOUT TO FUCKING DIE!"