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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Isida Kep'Tukari" data-source="post: 2675664" data-attributes="member: 4441">At the sight of the well-armed, well-fed, wealthy and numerous party, the denizens of the Glass Tower scuttle deeply into their hovels.  They risk life daily from the insane ravers; there was no need to provoke trouble if it was not necessary.  The hovels were true pits, lined with rags and refuse, lit by the cheapest rush-dip lamps, crammed with as many people as they could hold.  The stench is apalling, and Arimart finally ties a kerchief around his nose and mouth to keep from breathing it in so deeply.  The torches and lanterns the party carries lights up the area around them clearly, far more clearly then they would want, truth be told.You descend in a ragged spiral around the shaft until they get to a series of shattered and twisted corridors that branch off in many directions.  More of the insane cackling echoes up from below, sounding much louder than before, but also echoing more, making it hard to tell where it's coming from.  You have your choice of straight down, sloping down to the west, sloping down to the northeast, straight south, and sloping slightly up to the northeast.</blockquote>