Anybody stepping onto the steps feels a shudder of revulsion and momentary unease, an almost physical sensation like cold, clammy fingers in the dark. It passes, though, seemingly without any lasting debilitating effects. Baracus seems to be recovering himself too, standing on his own power again and glaring suspiciously up into the shadows above.
The stairway winds in a tight spiral, leaving Grys unable to get a clear line of sight to the top.
Martha shies away at first, mewling piteously, but after a moment she pads on cautiously up the stone stairs. Mythra gets no signal of alarm or warning from his empathic link with her, and after a minute or two she returns, none the worse for wear. It seems that the way is clear.