Saoirse descended slowly at the heels of the brutish Grumbler, her oil lamp held aloft, squinting at the stone and the shadows and the little glowing fishes in little glass balls that reminded her of the tavern they'd just left. One smooth step at a time, down and down, Saoirse finally paused long enough to stick the tip of her knife between the wall and one of those glowy fishy orbs, which she popped loose and pocketed. Pleased with her new little friend, she caught up with Gru in slightly higher spirits -- though the darker wide landing ahead did nothing to maintain the momentary looting high.

Now it was only her oil lamp that showed them the deep archways; her expression contorted comically while she tried to decipher the pictures and writing, stretching as tall as she could to extend the lamplight. [color=yellow]"What're these, lines in a poem?"[/color] Her voice echoed, skeptical, wondering if perhaps Dali knew the origin of the words. She squinted down the halls, not daring to move further without confidence that she'd be accompanied by someone better armed, until the lamplight illuminated the Eye.

She'd been expecting something like this. Her heart sank anyway.

At least the room on the other side was actually lit. With little more than a glance at the others, Saoirse marched forward with an air of confidence and reckless leadership, mostly certain she could handle whatever was on the other side. Surely the source of that blood-chilling scream had come from one of those other darker, spookier hallways. Not this big empty lit-up room with just an ancient hatch-wheel door. There wasn't even any blood. Everything was fine.

A triumphant grin had just begun to grow on her face when she felt something getting warm against her leg -- but her fishy friend was in the other pocket. Curious, she shoved her hand into several pockets before she withdrew the coin from the tavern.

As she stared at the face of the coin, Saoirse's expression morphed from curiosity, to suspicion, to pale-faced dread.

After a long, breathless moment, Saoirse's eyes darted to her companions, feverishly watching each of them to see if any of them had experienced anything similar. Her glance fell on Dali with a momentary [i]aha![/i], certain that he must be playing tricks again -- but he seemed preoccupied. [i]Just like him to act nonchalant.[/i] She had a hard time convincing herself. Was it getting hotter in here?

[color=yellow]"So, hey guys, those coins we've all got -- do yours have the eye open or shut right now?"[/color] She posed the question coolly, flashing them her own coin without letting them get a good look at it. She clenched it in her fist and silently willed it to stop whatever it was doing, though the forced smirk didn't leave her face.

[color=yellow]"In any case, who's gonna open this door? We didn't come all the way here for nothin."[/color] Obviously she was too small and scrawny to embarrass herself with that door.

Saoirse took this opportunity to slowly move back toward the doorway they had come from. [i]Just keep cool.[/i]

If she knew anything about horror stories -- if her coin was the only one with the eye closed -- it could only mean that whatever had caused that scream was behind that door, and it was after [i]her[/i] next.

The tinkerer was an explorer and an adventurer, eager to dive into places she had no right to be, to steal from people who should logically never be stolen from -- but she'd only survived thus far by knowing when to cut and run. This was quickly turning into one of those times. That didn't mean she wasn't still impossibly curious.

[color=yellow]"C'mon, boys, heave-ho!"[/color] she called from the back of the room.