Immersive Ink

Armando is willing to head down into the excavated area and use a rope to belay down the chute. Ideally the other end would be tied off to something, in addition to having someone hold it. He has his lantern out.

"We need some rope over here", calls Beringar whilst wiping some sweat off his brow.

[p Man,leather,short-sword,hand,12,7/7]Armando[/p] slips down thru the rough opening and lands catlike in the excavation adjacent to the pit. Even by the minimal light cast down here he can see that the ledge he stands upon is narrow--about 3ft wide at best--and overlooks a deep, black hole. He suspect he might just about be able to see the curved chute at the bottom... and perhaps hear distant echoes that might be fighting carrying up...

Above, [p Man,elvish mail+helm,spear,shield,12,10/11]Torben[/p] (who is as strong as an oak) brings forth a rope and passes one end of it down, saying he'll anchor it above. Meanwhile, [p Elf,leather+helm,hand,hand,12,8/8]Wen[/p] joins [p Old Elf,leather+helm,spear,hand,12,10/10]Highbough[/p] in peering around the corner...

Torben

Torben goes about securing the rope.

<< OOC: Still here, just haven't had much time to post. >>

Josiane kneels by the hole Armando has disappeared into.

"Anything?" she asks, an urgent edge to her tone.

"The echoes of a distant battle reach my ears — I descend!" Armando begins to repel down, ideally without letting the other end of the rope drop away beneath him into the darkness ...

"Wait!" hisses Josiane, but Armando has already gone into the blackness below.

"It is swords they need down there, not stealth," she mutters urgently to the others; "How much rope do we possess?"

Torben

"Sixty feet," he says, gripping the rope and helping to control the descent.

Josiane: "I doubt that will be enough. Does anyone have any more? Lord Olaf?"

She casts her flashing grey gaze at the lanky fighter expectantly.