[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell] [h2][color=64520A][i][b]Daxos Ironbow[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=64520A]Dwarf, Rogue, Thief, Level [/color]05[/b][/i] [color=64520A][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 43 / 43 [color=64520A][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 14 [color=64520A][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [color=64520A][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] The Coach House [color=64520A][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] Door Stuff [color=64520A][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [color=64520A][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A [/cell][cell] [right][img]https://i.ibb.co/p67XnxBB/IMG-0542.jpg[/img][/right] [/cell][/row][/table][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] Blackberry’s direct question about combat ability drew a small, confident snort from the dwarf. [color=64520a]“Unnerved? Nay, lad. Ah can handle masel’ just fine. If the dead walk or scream or dance a bloody jig, they’ll get the same greeting they all do—me shield in their ribs an’ me axe in their neck.”[/color] But before Blackberry could respond, Kathryn’s triumphant shout came crashing down the stairs.Daxos was on his feet instantly. [color=64520a]“Right—on me way!”[/color] He thundered down the stairs behind the excited warrior, boots striking stone with steady, controlled force. The change in air pressure was subtle, but he felt it the moment he reached the bottom—his instincts tightening like a drawn bowstring. His eyes narrowed at the secret vault-like door and the short, oppressive hallway beyond. The craftsmanship of the stone whispered of hidden places and things best kept sealed. He crouched beside the polished wooden door, testing the lock with a practiced hand. The tools flicked, twisted, probed—and clicked in a manner that told him everything he needed to know.The lock held.He exhaled through his nose, annoyed but thoughtful. [color=64520a]“Och, stubborn bastard… not givin’ a lick. Clever work, though…”[/color] Shifting his attention to the stonework surrounding the frame, he brushed his fingers over the joints—feeling the grooves, the rests, the subtle differences in age. [color=64520a]“…Aye. This is newer stone. Fitted tight. Duergar craft, if ah’m any judge.”[/color] He stood, dusting off his palms. [color=64520a]“This door’s nae meant tae be opened by the lock alone. We’d need tae work the stone around it—loosen the frame itself. That’s the only proper way in.”[/color] He turned to Lizbeth, tone respectful but firm. [color=64520a]“Lass, would ye mind seekin’ yer aunt? If we’re tae start pryin’ at her walls, best we’ve her blessin’ first. Ah’d rather not offend the one who keeps this place in order.”[/color] He stepped back from the door, arms crossing as he regarded the sealed space with a soldier’s wary interest. [color=64520a]“Whatever lies beyond… it’s meant tae stay quiet. An’ that alone makes me damned curious.”[/color]