Here be the labyrinthine nether worlds below the red desert.
Desmond/Mondes, Detier, Olaf, Ulric, Josiane, Ashtad, Armando, Torben, and Helmut are all here, all running to make the relative safety of the broad, columned stone chamber before the deluge of red-sand swallows them up.
Desmond/Mondes does a quick check of the columns as his comrades rush into the place; they are a series of 8ft broad, squareish pilons that support the stone ceiling via a series of inverted-V-shaped arches at 20ft intervals, rough-hewn from an alien red-brow rock. They seem purely functional and undecorated, but there is little time for that. As the sand pours into the chamber behind our heroes, the red-light of the outside world is fading fast! If this continues (and there is no indication it will not), it will soon be pitch dark!
Since the giant desert-worm is now more than a full move away and the players are out of sight, the referee first checks to determine whether the desert worm will seek to re-engage, treating it as a pursuit with the players having gone around a corner or through a door. 1d6=1, so no pursuit. The worm's brain is too small and out of sight is apparently as good as out of mind...
Welcome, then, to the Underworld.
the Elf Medium (MV 12", AC 9, HD 1, hp 1/1, AL N) great cloak, lantern
; spells: color spray; scrolls: sleep, sleep, charm person
Hirelings: Georges; torch