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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Eccles" data-source="post: 3103341" data-attributes="member: 5675">We returned to the room above, and lit the red lantern. Once in place, there was a whooshing noise from above the indigo lantern, where the wind-blowing head had nearly killed several of us the previous day. Emboldened by our successes, we climbed back up, and looked around, to see that the face at the end of the corridor had disappeared. The corridor now led into a strange room.The room itself was part-filled with a massive number of iron balls, each about the size of an apple. Above them was a 3 foot wide walkway, from where we stood to a door on the other side. The walls on either side were covered in a strange honeycomb pattern. Flynn was the first to leap into action and dash across the walkway for the temptation of the door opposite.He was no more than halfway across when a rumbling noise came from the wall to our right, and a hail of metal globes hurtled out of the hexagonal shapes, hurtling past him and slamming into the opposite wall before falling to join their fellows beneath us. Flynn stopped moving and looked around, muttering something about ‘trigger plates’ and ‘ratchet-switches’, before fishing out a small set of tools and using them to… well, to set the trap off a second time. This time, the hail of metal balls slammed straight into him, breaking several ribs and re-opening the head wound from the water room. The last of Torvig’s spells were poured into him to set him properly back onto his feet, before he and Niccoli (shielding both of them with the large steel shield he carries) returned to the walkway. His misadventures from earlier had clearly taught him something, as he was able to disarm the trap swiftly and efficiently. His triumphant announcement was drowned out by a giggling noise, before a spectral voice announced to the room,“I thought you’d be goners there.”“Who’s there?” Flynn’s hand shot to his weapons as he looked around him trying to spot the source of the voice. To all of our horror, a ghostly and translucent young boy materialised, hanging in the air. His head lolled to one side, neck clearly snapped – he looked like he was hanging from an invisible rope. Morgan and I recognised the boy from his description at the same time – Alastor Land, lost some 60 years ago whilst entering the Whispering Cairn on a dare like so many other children before us. Bravely, Morgan spoke to the spirit,“Alastor?”“You… You know my name?”“Of course. You went missing years ago. What happened?”“It’s my punishment. The trap kills people. Adventurers mostly. I fell here.”“Lad,” Torvig spoke up. “Would you wish us to give your remains a proper burial?”Alastor gazed at us in longing at this suggestion. “Yes! Please bury my remains. You see this door? I can go through it.” He demonstrated, passing his whole arm through the solid door surface in a way which made my spine crawl. “I’ll open the door if you bury my bones with my family.”As Alastor directed us to the place under the metal globes where his body lay, he had one more helpful word for us. “There’s a creature there. Longer than you are tall. It’s greeny yellow, and has tentacles for a face. Oh, and it kills adventurers and drags the bodies to its lair to eat them.”Niccoli and Flynn, who’d jumped down and started digging, suddenly went pale. Their colour didn’t improve when the huge green slug-like body of a grick pushed its way clear of the metal globes and attacked. And none of us were smiling when our blows simply bounced off it, it lashed Niccoli brutally with its tentacles, nearly bringing him to his knees, and finally Morgan chanted and pointed at the monster, sending a torrent of smoky spirits hurtling at the monster. Once clustered around it, they latched onto cuts and abrasions and tried to worsen its wounds by pulling them open.His second spell was just as disconcerting, the same dark eldritch ray which seemed to pull something out of the monster-slug; still, practically all our blows seemed to simply bounce off the thing, leaving only the tiniest few scratches in its thick slimy skin. Starting a chant of encouragement, I leapt down to join the others, standing behind Niccoli and infusing him with a spell of health, mimicking actions I had seen Torvig doing when healing the others. I then drew my sword reluctantly and stepped forward.Spear, sword and rapiers flew, and finally… finally, only when Morgan unlimbered and fired his crossbow, the slimy beast fell. The tiny bones were recovered (along with a few handfuls of gold we found whilst digging), and we clambered back onto the walkway. Carrying the body, we left the complex and headed for Town, bickering amongst ourselves as to whether Morgan was a necromancer, or merely (as he maintained) an extremely spooky and sinister mage.</blockquote>

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