The water pouring from the shattered tank would have been a relief for Ulor's sparsely burned skin, had it but been less salty. As it was, however, it produced a rather unpleasant and more than slightly painful tingling over the scorched patches. Nonetheless, it was ever so slightly fresh, which, in other circumstances, would have made even it a welcome change. Yet, as it stood, it only made things worse. The dungeon was cool and damp enough on its own, and this seemed to be an ideal way to catch himself a rheumatism. Fortunately - though how fortunate that really was was debatable - he did not even have to exert the least mystical effort to dry himself, as the vegetative tiefling took it upon herself to provide to his and the paladin's sanitary need. The feeling of no longer being wet was pleasant; less so was the fact that she seemed convinced that hugging was a necessary part of the incantation. Grumbling something indistinct, he wagged at her a finger that seemed for a moment to smoothly change its shape into that of a tentacle tipped with a ferociously snarling mouth.

Waving away the gnome's remonstrances like a circling fly, Ulor headed back into the corridor, the octopus dutifully following a step behind. What there was to see in that room had been seen, and, while its physical contents had been somewhat disappointing, they had hinted at something else to be found down there. Something that would have rendered keeping diminutive people in tanks of salt water worthwhile (phrased this way, it appeared to be a ridiculously specific goal, but presumably these sectarians did not just waste their time like that). His first impulse was to head to the east, towards the light, as it was probably there that said something was more probable to be found - unless it did not need ready access to the tanks. However, seeing that the rest of the group was focused on the collapsed tunnel, he wisely decided against wandering off alone and hobbled towards the impromptu wall, which the bestial scoundrel had already clambered over.

He was still thinking of what he should do next when the half-breed followed into the breach, after the rogue called out that the way was clear. That might very well have been; yet it was always better to be safe, lest these savages topple something over him just as he entered. He motioned to the octopus, and the creature floated up and through the opening in the wall. Even as it did so, Ulor cast the greater current of his mind into its psychic mould. Its eyes were his, and his spirit pulsed through its mystic veins. Through its somewhat faded view, the mage could see the chamber's two occupants, the fallen guard and, most importantly, what he had been guarding. Dim pupils darted from side to side, seeking something on value - perhaps that very something that could solve the mystery of the vats.


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Looking at the western chamber through Octopus, Ulor Investigates (a glorious [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/4386]3[/url]) it for anything interesting.

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