"Good Friends & Fine Spirits" by Mystic Eye Games - Part 9
Briar mutters a curse and hurries after the reckless bard, plunging into the room despite his every instinct telling him to remain outside. The others - apparently less concerned for Macwood's safety, one way or another - follow more slowly, and do not pass through the door.
The room that Briar and Macwood have entered is small, and paved with large, unadorned stone tiles. Two skeletons lie on the floor near the middle of the room, dressed in tattered fragments of clothing, while a third is slumped against the far wall, a small chest in its hands.
"Undead." Macwood opines, with the paranoid certainty of an adventurer who is sure that everything is out to get him.
It turns out he's half right: the skeletons are perfectly mundane, but something is out to get him.
Three of the two foot long roaches drop from the ceiling. One lands on Briar, the second on Macwood. The last misses both and falls all the way to the floor, where it quickly starts scuttling up the bard's leg.
Macwood twists, slamming his back against the wall in an attempt to crush the bug that landed on him. It senses the wall in time, however, and scuttles round to his front, giving him a nasty bite as it does so.
The others quickly pour into the room, and set to the outnumbered vermin with alacrity. The mismatched battle is over in seconds, as the adventurers - finding the roaches easy pickings after the fearsome slime beast - chop and crush them with only a few blows.
"Check the chest for traps, then open it." The Padre tells Briar, gesturing at the only sign of loot in the room. As he speaks, the cleric is already heading for the exit.
"I suppose you're going to close the door as well." The young rogue remarks caustically, as the rest of the group scuttles out of the room.
"Good idea." The Padre carefully pulls the door shut, leaving Briar alone in the room, where he mutters a few choice words about the spinal fortitude of his companions.
Crouching beside the skeleton with the chest, Briar wrinkles his nose as he notices dozens of tiny abrasions on the suspiciously clean bones. It seems the roaches have feasted here before.
"Gross." He mutters to himself, "Reminds me of the time that Ivy -" his voice trails off, and he ducks his head, wiping suddenly tear-filled eyes on his shirt. He sneaks a glance at the door, and is relieved to see it remains closed.
Forcing himself to focus, he checks the chest for traps, taking extra care and attention.
"Is everything okay in there?" the Padre calls through the door, his voice muffled by the wooden barrier.
"Yeah." Briar calls back tersely, "I'm just about to open it. Don't worry: if it's trapped, I'll make sure to scream real loud."
Ignoring the Padre's stuttered response about 'practicality' and 'minimising losses', Briar sets to the lock with his tools, and quickly has the little chest open. Inside, he finds only a well-crafted dagger and a folded sheet of parchment.
Dismissing the parchment as 'wizard stuff', the rogue drops both items back into the chest and stands, stretching out the cramped muscles of his back and legs. That done, he looks silently at the door for a moment, then grins impishly.
Still grinning, he lets out his loudest and most bloodcurdling scream.
