Act 2. Wards of Flame and Steel

Act 2: Wards of Flame and SteelThe silence that followed the explosion was dense. Then came the coughing. Choked, ragged gasps for air cut through the haze of settling dust and lingering smoke.

Zyra stirred first. Her skin was dusted with ash, and her arms bore fresh scrapes and light burns—but nothing deep. Her ears rang. Her first thought wasn’t pain, but people—she scrambled up to a crouch, eyes darting to find the others.

Next came Orryn, groaning as he pushed a broken beaker off his chest. His cap was singed and crooked, and his cheeks were smeared with black soot.

Legolas rolled to his side, rising with fluid, practiced grace despite the deep bruise blooming across one shoulder. His once-bright cloak was streaked with ash and alchemical residue, and one arm was burned lightly along the forearm. He didn’t speak—his eyes scanned the room for danger. He reached behind him, ensuring his bow was still intact. It was.

Grusk groaned from where he had been thrown back against a half-collapsed pipe. His tunic was blackened, and he was blinking rapidly like someone just punched by a door. "I hate magic bags," he grunted, brushing soot from his arms.

What was that! Is everyone ok?

Orryn choked on the settling dust, trying in vain to rub away the soot with his sleeve, muddying blood across his darkened face.

"An explosion, an' unless the afterlife is dirty and painful. One we survived. Everyone got their limbs? I feel like a horse kicked me."

His ears were ringing, and he very much doubted the wetness in his coat was from a spilled beaker. He needed to assess their situation, and this damn cloud needed to settle.

"Too much to hope we solved the clickin' problem with that stunt?"

He looked around the room, both to find an exit, and figure out what damage the explosion had visited upon the area they were in.

The alchemical worktables were scorched black and warped, their contents utterly consumed by the blast—glass fused into the surface like frozen lightning, copper tubing twisted and melted into grotesque shapes. Scorch marks crawled up the walls like claws. Whatever hadn’t already burned had spilled into smoking heaps of useless sludge.

Orryn turned slowly, eyes tracing the familiar outline of the heavy eastern door—still standing. It had been spared most of the blast. Behind him, he caught sight of the rusted cabinet—some of its contents were now nothing more than slag and char, but the satchel's remains smoldered beside it. He grimaced.

The door leading back to the previous room stood at a slight angle in its frame, scorched but intact.

Then the rubble caught his attention again—part of the collapse had shifted, revealing more of the stone wall behind it.

Legolas, ever alert, stepped carefully over a broken beam. His gaze narrowed. Between the crumbled stones and shattered piping, there—just barely visible in the soot-blackened wall—was the outline of a narrow seam. A secret door, hidden behind what had once been dismissed as structural collapse.

Above them, more pipes groaned under the strain. The explosion had warped several—one dripped a faint iridescent residue; others hissed faintly with escaping gas.

The clicking had stopped—for now.

Orryn makes his way over to Legolas, wincing as he pats the elf for his well spotted find.

"Earnin' yer keep right there! Now we just gotta spot the way in."

He looks about the rubble, moving anything away that wouldn't collapse on top of him.

"See any secret button with that great vision? Hey Zyra, ye sorted the traps above, right? Think ye can find whatever mechanism opens this?"

Buttons? Don't see any. Do you?

Elf comes closer to the doors and ignates his torch blown off by boom.
As he moves the torch around he stops and moves an inch back. Now you can also see flame jumping as if slight air movemen . Legolas takes a silver coin and slides into a tiny gap in the doors and with some efforts and for his great surprise manages to eject a door handle pulling that opens the doors

Look like Legolas beat me to it Orryn. Good work. I found the mechanism for this door as well. Although I have yet to figure out how it works. Let's keep going down the secret path and we can circle back to this door and the other large doors from the adjacent doors after.

Zyra moves to join the other and waves a farewell to Grusk saying: We'll let you know when we have the forge safe.

Orryn nodded with a grin.

"It's impressive to be sure! To take a major knock like that, and still spot something so well hidden! Gotta wonder what was going on down here to be so layered with traps and hidden doors. Only one way to find out, yeah? Let's press on!"

He followed the others as they made their way through the doorway, keeping close as he could to the illumination of the elf's torch.

The hidden door swung open, revealing a chamber far colder than the scorched room behind them. The room was a perfect cube, no more than ten feet across, yet every inch of it was claimed by intricate carvings: runes upon runes, binding circles layered over magical glyphs of sealing and warding.

At the center, a raised stone platform no taller than a barrel. Resting atop it was a small chest—metal-banded and marked with more glowing etchings, its lid magically clean and untouched by dust or time. Hovering just inches above the chest, spinning slowly on its axis, was a crystalline shard. It glowed with a pale azure light, casting reflections like broken stars across the ceiling.

Anyone one familiar with magic warding?

"My specialization is more mechanical than magical, but maybe I can make some sense of it anyway."

Orryn scanned the room, trying to piece together the purpose of the various runes that lined the room's every surface, especially the ones upon the chest.

Orryn you have no idea what the runes are. They are definitely not schematics or blueprints. They don't show gears, flow paths, or locking mechanisms.

Zyra, that crystal’s holding something in—or out. Probably both. No mechanical traps, no physical locks that you can see. This is arcane. Definitely arcane.

I guess Grusk wouldn't be interested in this. Neither am I.
Legolas leaves the magical room and backs to safety before gnome blows up something again.

As Legolas steps out of the small room, Zyra turns to Orryn: The crystal floating above the chest is the key, I just don't know if the chest is keeping something locked up or protecting something inside. how about we loc this room up, continue exploring the rest of the forge. We find some clues as to what's in the chest or what the room is for somewhere else.

Zyra hesitates a little before continuing: On the one hand, there is nothing inherently dangerous about leaving this room as is and mapping it for Grusk would be technically a fulfillment of the contract... On the other hand, I would like to know what's inside.

Orryn picked at his soot caked beard, features tight as he considered the various arcane symbols scattered throughout the chamber. A few moments after Legolas departed. Orryn threw up his hands, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Bah! These damn magics are beyond me! I'm a smith and tinkerer, not some long studied wizard!"

He rubbed hard at his eyes, smearing the collective grim like runny eyeshadow.

"Sorry, the explosion seems to have rattled my patience. I won't deny I'm curious as well, but these symbols could end us faster than we could consider the meaning of regret. We need more information. Something to clue us in to what was going on. If we don't find it here. Grusk told me of someone that might know more about Barundal Hornrock. Could be useful to look into. For now, we can check the other rooms."

He pulled his tattered pack off, retrieving a torch which he ignites with a few grunting strikes. He slings the pack on again and nods towards the doorway.

"I'll hold the light, you spot the traps. Sound good?"