Horsom lowered himself into the dark hole. Holding onto what remained of the mill's stone floor, he stretched downward, ready to feel the stone floor beneath his feet. The air was cold, making his flesh shivery.
Dain came up and knelt beside him, peering into the darkness below. "You're only a foot or so from the floor," the dwarf told him. The dwarf could see shards of shattered rock lying below, where parts of the barrow's ceiling had fallen due to the excavation above. Twisted bits of bone seemed to stick up from the smooth portions of the floor. He could hear a steady drip and a plink, and realized his mistake. It wasn't necessarily the floor -- there was standing water down there, no doubt seepage from the stream and mill pond. It could not have been more than a few inches deep.
Nearby, Glom prepared to follow Horsom. "Dark things under stone," the goblin said. "Dark things."
Dain realized that Glom was right. He could feel his own heart beating faster than it should be. Horsom was preparing to drop down and light his everburning torch.
"Perhaps it would be wiser to ensure that we are all prepared for what lies ahead," Kregor said. The scarred half-orc priest watched his more eager companions with concern. "I have done my best of trying to rid this place of evil spirits, but it is only a temporary solution and I believe that my granted powers would be better put to use should I have one more day to meditate."
Horsom may have been champing at the bit, but he pulled himself back out of the dark, cold hole. "Very well," he grumbled, somewhat uncharitably. Patience was not one of Horsom's virtues!
Dain grimaced. On one hand, he could understand Kregor's caution. On the other hand, with the springtime sun ready to set in little less than four hours, what if whatever they had breached allowed something to come out?
