(088) The Undervaults

Aye, and Morin follows, lantern aloft.

Walfried notes the ground of hard-packed, rock and mud looks equally viable either way, so heads into the right-hand branch.

Tis a short route, mayhap 20ft, before opening out into a large, irregular shaped cavern. The two passages do seem to lead into the same space. Additionally, there are three more opens into the space illuminated by a forlorn torch pegged to the wedge of wall directly to Walfried's left as he gazes in. The nearest is immediately to Walfried's right. The others are farther back in the cavern.

There is nobody to be seen, but the company become aware of a vaguely unpleasant pong; the stench of habitation. Someone--or more likely several someones--must be dwelling here or nearby.

Walfried carefully removes his helmet &, closing his eyes, takes a moment to listen.

Boggs uses his tracking skills to look for clues about the cavern's inhabitants: footprints, food scraps, bedding, etc.

Morin thinks back to their earlier encounter with the cavemen, and recalls the stench of those peculiar man-types. "If these caverns be the domain of the cavemen, they may be able to lead us back to halls we have walked. Let us treat kindly with them, should we meet them again, and count ourselves lucky."

It doesn't take the canny group long to perceive the tang is similar to that of the cavemen encountered earlier; muddy footprints found here and there seem to confirm the possibility. And Walfried is sure he hears low muttering sounds carrying from the caverns off to his right.

Brother Walfried nods in agreement with Morin's plan.

"I think you should lead the way, Sir Morin. Dealing with strangers is not my strong suit."

Boggs agrees. "The cavemen are our best chance of finding the way out. I am fluent in their language. Does anyone have food we can barter? I dumped all of mine."

Walfried thumps his pack, which clinks slightly.

"I have no food, I'm afraid," he mutters, regretfully.

While all this muttering is going on, a large and surly figure saunters into the cavern of a sudden. Standing there, wide-footed in the archway, the caveman take a prolonged, leisurely scratch of parts best not mentioned, before abruptly becoming aware he is not alone.

"Yod!" he sniffs, not yet pulling his arm out of his filthy fur toga.

The referee dices for the chance appearance of a wandering beastie... 1d6=6!

Are the players surprised? 1d6=4, so no.
Are the monsters surprised? 1d6=1, so no.