Immersive Ink

The Herald says, On second thought, why not press our luck? Wetzel, you look like a brigand in that outfit. Do you care to have a stroll down there and look around? The three of us will lurk in the shadows behind you and leap out if trouble arises.

For a moment Wetzel just stares at The Herald, looking a bit startled, as if surprised to be addressed. Then a light comes into his eyes, and he glances down the passage again.

As he straps his hobgoblin helm back on to his head, he looks at the floor and speaks softly, saying: "I'll try left, and take a look. Get ready in case I run."

Then the little man strips off his pack and bedroll, and sets them on the ground near his companions. He leans his shield (of human make, from Manfred's camp), against the wall.

"Watch those for me," he grunts.

Finally, he takes a rough clay pipe & and a leather pouch from his pocket, and fills the bowl with a bit of tobacco, tamping it down with his thumb. If there's a torch or other flame about, he takes a bit of tinder from his pack and lights the pipe. In any case, he clamps the artifact in his teeth and grins around it.

"Casual, eh?"

With that he listens for a moment for any commentary or advice from his companions, and then he walks out into the thoroughfare.

Having spent much time amongst the animals of the field and forest, he has intuited much about how to appear strong when you are not. He does his best to relax, drawing at the pipe, carrying his spear loosely in his right hand -- though taking care not to let it butt against the ground too hard -- and keeping his head not too far up nor too far ducked, looking left nor right but ahead toward his objective, watching out of the corner of his eyes for signs of moment, and listening hard (best he can with the helm on his head).

He advances toward the sunlight, with the intent of stopping as casually as possible just before the first branch passage, and taking a moment there to listen.

The Herald gives Wetzel a grin and a wink as he takes off down the corridor. The cleric stands quietly, straining his eyes and ears to keep a watch on Wetzel, ready to run to his aid at a moment's notice.

Akbar sniffs at the fragrant coils of smoke and smiles at the figure of Wetzel heading down the hallway.

Zax puffs his moustache at the new plan, but holds his tongue while Wetzel goes through his pantomime and finally moves off.

He hopes he wont be long.

Wetzel makes himself ready, in his fashion, and then--after looking both ways and observing no traffic--saunters a ways along the passage to the left; toward the distant sunlight.

As he draws nearer to the ramp that ultimately leads to the outside, he becomes aware that there are a couple of distant figures loitering by the gate; obscured by the bright sunlight. They do are a ways off yet, and do not seem to respond to him.

Soon he reaches the first an intersection, where he pauses a moment to listen. To his left is an open archway leading into a dark room. To his right is a stout closed door with a small metal shutter, presumably covering a small window; it could easily be a dunjon door. Listening a moment... Wetzel hears a muttering voice, and an intermittent, quiet clatter of moving objects coming from the dark room to his left.

Dungeon Exploration Turn 8

Unencumbered, Wetzel makes 12" moves at a cautious rate, having two such moves per turn.

First Move
In his first move Wetzel reaches an intersection and listens...

Wetzel saunters back to his friends, and (assuming he makes it back without incident) takes a moment to pull off his helmet and wipe his brow. He is sweating profusely.

He describes what he has seen...

"So, several down guarding the exit, and somebody in the first chamber on the left. To the right is a jail, maybe? It's a big place -- let's get back to the group and plan our way forward -- or back -- or what."

He looks about at his companions, anxious to hear their input.

Wetzel returns to his fellows without incident.

Dungeon Exploration Turn 8

Second Move
Wetzel returns to his fellows.

Orders for turn 9?

The Herald would prefer to press on before the other denizens of the dungeon realize the extent of the party's incursion, but he'll go back if that's what the others want to do.

That guy who sounds like he's alone in the left side room could be our next victim.

Zax, fidgeting in his boiler-plate armour while Wetzel was away, is immediately spurred into action upon his return.

"Sev'ral is it?" he says in response to the scout's report, "Right", and heads off down the passage from which Wetzel has just returned, ice pick in hand.