Tombwatch

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Beathel

She really shouldn't find explosions so funny. Bea shakes her head and secures her rebreather back on over a sort of smile.

Seeing as Chalith's secured the perimeter, she hustles for the truck. After hauling out her medical bag, she gives the truck a final go over, tacking down loose edges of the tarp. She starts forward and suddenly doubles back, yanking the lantern free from the jumble before rejoining the group.
 
Ben

Hefting his warpick on his shoulder, he nods, "Heart it is, then," his rebreather hisses gutterally with the sound of his voice running through it, "Bently! Go!" He ushers the hound ahead of them, to be a forward scout. If any magical anomalies where in the air, he'd sniff them out long before they would.

He takes point, stepping carefully, his boot studs digging deep into the sand, the dome looming into view in more detail against the swirling winds that were rapidly picking up.

Rolling INT 3 / Awareness 3+1 Outdoors = 11,10,12. 3 successes.
 
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The dome is crystalline, the intact portions pristine, untouched by time or sandstorm. A section is shattered inward, and it shouldn't be difficult to squeeze in. Might be necessary to sheath some of the pointy bits before you do.

Bentley trots in a wide arc toward the dome, nose to the sand. You get the feeling it's much, much safer to follow his steps than just walking straight to the dome.

Ben can identify some marks in the sand and piles of spoor that mean thyds come out of the dome at night - old Magi biotools that eat waste and dirt, long gone feral. Harmless, until they're in a big enough swarm, but luckily they don't like light so a good torch can keep them away.
 
Ben

He follows Bently's footsteps in the rough sand, childishly planting his muddy boots on the dogs pawprints as he went, before pausing to pat his head as they reach the perimeter, peering cautiously over the edge and into the gloom below.
How big was the drop?

Rolling INT 3 / Awareness 3 +1 for Outdoors again to see if there's a substantial drop and/or footholds and a safe place to drop or climb down to.

10, 1, 12. Reroll 4. 2 Successes.

He sighs, was this gonna need rope? He turns to his slowpokes, pawing about in his bag for rope.
"Any volunteers on going first?" he whirrs.

@Custodiet Teh @Silvertongued @Cirno
 
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Beathel
Their curiously indirect route gives Bea a long while to stare at the light glinting off the dome. There's a glimmer of something in her unfocused peripheral vision. Heat shimmer? Magical remnants? She refocuses on following the footsteps in the sand.

After Ben speaks, Bea's shoulders tense. But she inches her lantern-free hand up. It made sense for the medic to be in place should something happen to a team mate on their descent.
 
Eliza "Ellie" Warren

Her hand on the handle of the blade at her hip, Ellie steps forward.

"Might as well be me n' Bentley," she says, nodding to the thaumhound.

"You ready boy?"
 
Chalith Hoydt

"I'll take second" Chalith speaks up in stride, her rifle brought to a ready position. "It's usually the first person in line that gets snuffed out right?" She looks back over at Bea and gives a mirthful wink from behind her visor. She knew they'd all be fine. Maybe a scare here and there with the worst case being some old tech firing up but they weren't going in half-cocked. A slow careful examination, each step taken with thought.

"Your hound sniffs things out well right? Not gonna trip anything on us?" Chalith clasps Ellie's shoulder, her grip strong but done in a comforting back up sort of way. Like her pop used to do to her.
 
Eliza "Ellie" Warren

"Usually," laughs Ellie. "But they're also the ones who set off the traps that snuff out the second,"

She looks back at the hand holding her shoulder and smiles.

"But yeah, Bentley's a good ol' boy. Trained him myself, so he knows his job, doncha Bentley?"
 
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Beathel

Bea's hand quickly slides back down without resistance as Ellie and Chalith casually joke about what they might first encounter down there, in the dark. It's hard to stay anxious when they bring up Bentley though.

She hefts up the lantern towards Ellie, since Chalith already has her rifle.
 
Ben

"Well, then get yer foot planted on the rope, dummy," he motions to his sister, holding up the rope as he secures it to the nearest rock, "Either you'll need to straddle him over your shoulders or tie his harness to it. Either way, you're gonna be abseiling down for mosta this. I'll be going last,"
His re-breather chirps as he makes as he hums in concentration, wrangling the hound into position, "Get movin!"
 
Inside the dome is curiously lit - as if the dome itself distorts the light into a pattern akin to that of reflections from water in a tank. Up close, it's almost as wide across as town hall; the buggies could fall down the shaft side by side.

Below, Sam can make out debris, sand, and less identifiable objects. Something worryingly like a half-buried corpse protrudes from a pile of sand. There's a fallen pillar about six meters down, propped at an angle on other rubble. Six meters below that is the floor proper.

Nothing seems immediately threatening about climbing a rope down.
 
Chalith

"Going to aim for that pillar? Give it a couple good whacks, I don't want it collapsing on us if we take it." Chalith really didn't feel like having to climb back up the ten or so meters in a hurry. So many dinners and such little chance to exert herself meant she wasn't the spry cadet she used to be.

Realizing she'd been gripping Ellie's shoulder the entire time the dome settled, Chalith released. Her knuckles pop as she flexes her fingers before grabbing a carabiner and rigging herself to the rope.

"Once you get it checked out, I'll zip on down to secure the room. Drop some torches, setup a little base. Should be nice and safe from any dust, mount the antenna up here though." Even if it all went downhill for them, having their location actively broadcasting would be a little glimmer of hope, just in case.
 
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Eliza "Ellie" Warren

Resisting the urge to rub her shoulder, Ellie just laughs.

"Come on boy," she says, letting Bentley hop up onto her shoulders. Grimacing as his breath wafts into her face, she takes the rope in hand, making sure it's securely fastened to her harness.

"Wish me luck," Ellie chimes, stepping backwards into the pit. A few short hops and she reaches the bottom. Bentley is shrugged off, and her harness is released. Still despite Ellie's smiles, her hand rests on Lightning's hilt, and she strains to peer into the corners of gloom.

"Seems fine so far," she calls up.
 
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Something skitters softly in the dark.
 
Eliza "Ellie" Warren

"Uhhh... actually," she murmurs loudly, hand now firmly gripping the blade's hilt.

"Might wanna scratch that all clear. There's somethin' else down here," Ellie says hurriedly. "Somethin' skittery,"
 
Ben

His stomach gives an immediate lurch at his sister's annoucements.
"Get yer asses down there or I'm leaving the two'a'ya up in this dust storm,"

He wrangles both Beathel and Chalith with much less grace and helps lower them both as fast as he can without the friction of the rope tearing through his leather gloves. They both have barely had their feet touch ground before he already hauling the rope up to meet him.
He hurls his backpack over his shoulder, slaps his pick into his belt and abseils down after them, with about as much grace as a boulder rolling downhill.
He lands with a flail of limbs and takes out his pick again, it's mean red tint coloured a strange purplish hue by the light down here.
His rebreather vhoooors against the strain of his breathing, almost in a annoyance at his sudden burst of activity.

"You all ok? You all armed?"

--
@Cirno @Custodiet Teh
 
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Eliza "Ellie" Warren

"Got Lightnin' at my hip, and a pistol in my holster," replies Ellie, staring out into the darkness. She doesn't draw, but it's clear that she's ready to if the need arises.
 
Chalith

"I've had a rifle out the whole time nearly, Ben. Thought surveyors had those keen powers of observation that elders fawn over." Chalith recovers from the hasty descent, already starting to toss out more and more of the glowing green 'torches'. Each one audibly cracking as the chems inside reacted and began to slowly start emitting a sickly pale green light. With her free hand, Chalith kept her finger neatly near the trigger and the mouth of the rifle down range.

"It's probably something taking refuge in here, crawled into these caverns somewhere before the storms..."
 
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Beathel

Bea's eyes dart to Ben guiltily, then back into the dark in search of something not them or Bentley. "Nuh--" As Chalith casts out more torch lights, Bea's hand brushes against something in her bag. Huh.
 
Ben

He rolls his shoulders and his neck, the bones crackling dimly under his poncho with the release.
"Bently?" he musters the hound to his side as an extra backup and pair of eyes, "Come on,"

He decides to be the braver - or stupider - and decides to step foward a few paces, pick hefted high, "Anythin' wantin' to make itself known, best be doin' so now before we get real itchy fingered,"

He spoke almost as much to himself, the rebreather giving his voice a little more presence than he could muster.
 
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