Immersive Ink

Akbar follows, arbalest cocked and at the ready.

Zax leads the counter-move, retracing the company's steps back down the sloping passage toward the open archway. By the light of sputtering torches mounted upon the walls, it is plain to see the room beyond is an armory of sorts. Rather, it would be, if the weapon racks that line the long walls were anything other than bare. It seems the recently dispatched troops had slender pickings when they came here to arm themselves against intruders. The simple axes and clubs they carried would doubtless have sufficed for most domestic "pleasantries" in the warren, but proved unsuitable for a proper military action...

To the left, and some 40ft yonder at the end of the hall, there is a shallow stair climbing up. Directly across the 20ft wide hall is another open archway.

What next?

The Herald says Which way, Zax? The gods have seemed to favor you so far.

The Herald easily keeps up with his stubby-legged friend, mace at the ready.

Akbar follows, but with his face screwed up as if to say, "I'm fine following this course of action, but is anybody keeping track of where we've been?"

What makes you think we're going to live long enough to need to backtrack? You're following a dwarf with a death wish and a fanatic cleric ready to move on to the next life.