Leaving the dead and the doorway behind, Ivas made his way down the stairs and underneath the surface, calling for anyone nearby to join him. There was nothing out there for them--they made it into the dungeon, now the only way was forward! Or down. Sort of both, he thought, as he hopped down the stairs a couple at a time. On the way, he passed a dwarf who looked mighty angry and was running back up the stairs in the opposite direction. It was a good thing the stout little fellow was so short, as if Ivas hadn't been able to jump completely over him at the last moment, they might have bowled right into each other!

"Hey come back, mister dwarf! You're going the wrong way!"

He was just about to give chase when he was distracted by the realization that his leap had taken him through the doorway at the bottom of the stairs and into the large chamber with the statues, carvings, and seemingly impenetrable door. While the attention of others nearby was drawn immediately to the great door, Ivas was much smarter than that. No adventurer worth his salt simply barreled through such a large and decorative chamber without checking for loot first! There was guaranteed to be something valuable somewhere in here! Ivas set about examining the various statues and carvings with a surprising degree of focus and diligence, given his usual demeanor.

"Whoa, hey, what happened to your arm?!" he said as one of his searches took him close to Grug. "Are you okay? Here, I have these healing plant thingies! If you rub them on the arm it might make it feel better. Or maybe if you eat them. Can't remember which one! You'll figure it out!"

The boy reached into a pocket of his pack and took out what was likely his whole stock of healing herbs, given the size of the bundle relative to that of the pouch from which they were produced, then threw them at Grug like an expert pitcher making a fastball. A baseball thrown like that would leave a nasty bruise, but the worst this ball of leaves and stems would inflict was a sneeze or two if they got too close to the orc's nose. Seemingly assured that the issue was settled, Ivas returned to searching around and behind the statues, telling "mister old orc" to holler if he found anything as an afterthought.

He tapped his sword blade lightly on each surface to check for hollow spaces, shined the magical light from its pommel slowly across them to dispel illusions, and felt under every nook and cranny for hidden buttons. There had to be treasure in here somewhere, dammit!