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The demihuman, however, is making a remarkable recovery in the morning's light and would appear to be capable of conversation soon as he points at one of the bags you have recovered and asks, croakily, "There is some elven bread in there, may I have some? I have not eaten for some time."

He is painfully prising off the seven-rubied brooch from his bloodied hand where he had been gripping it so tightly and Darius passes him some water to clean the ugly wound.

The demihuman chews on a piece of bread and offers the other five small flat loaves that were in the bag generally to the party. He takes a swig of the offered water and then steadies himself, sitting back against the rock and closes his eyes for a moment, concentrating.

"I must thank you for this rescue. My name is Calrhuvianne, cousin to the mayor of Galent and your intervention to halt my demise has been most timely. My companion here is Morth Greyhammer and he has fared worse than I. He was to be next, you see. When one is taken to be fed to the dog, the next is taken to watch it and dwell on the terror to come."

He pauses, composing himself with a shudder.

"The guards taunted us: all I know is that death from that dog would trap the soul and give the Ghull power. From something they said when laughing at us, only the dog could free the trapped souls. "Yer'll be alright: final rest will come, don't yer worry. All yer need is a big hammer......Made of the dog, of course!""

His impersonation of the orc guard is very poor but doesn't bring laughter.

"All we were doing was coming down from Rin Duras by cart to Galent. We saw something odd - a large obelisk being carried by a team of ogres and orcs northwards. I have no idea what they were doing but we were obviously seen and the next thing, we were attacked. The cart ended up in the river. You seem to have got everything that survived. There are gems and platinum in the casket and magical things in that other bag but they were of no interest to our captors. They just threw everything in a cell.

And then myself and Morth and four others were tossed in the cells. Those four are dead now...."

Discussion follows as to what to do about the trapped souls that irk Suva so - it's been well over an hour since Morin went off to keep a watchful eye on the trapdoor; the quiet and fact that he hasn't returned suggests that everything is OK, so far. The feeling of the party, even from Jarek, who makes a comment that his attitude may not have been so only days ago, is to go back into teh stroghold and attempt to free the souls. Jirki, as luck would have it, has two of the dog’s teeth, taken as tribute to Kord, and Suva is eager to fashion one of these four-inch long canines into a weapon for smashing at the columns.

Calrhuvianne looks a little uncomfortable and cannot help but add his own comment: "I am indebted to you all and offer all the treasures you have recovered with my blessing. But my duty is to get to the mayor of Galent with my news: I cannot tarry here waiting for you all to complete some mission you have found - and I have to say, I am concerned that you are basing your entire strategy on taunts made to me by an orc guard!

"But I commend your bravery and wish you well. If you will watch over Morth, I can make my own way quickly to Galent." He pauses then adds with a morbid smile, "And if you succeed in freeing the souls, you could always leave the dwarf wagoner where he is. That bugger deserves it, ask Morth...when he's better."

Dalrylshana responds: "Sounds like a dreadful fate, whoever you are. I'm ready to free these souls, come on lads!"

Jarek tries to persuade Calrhuvianne to wait for the party, lest he come across a bog serpent on the way back to Galent but Calrhuvianne is steadfast, pausing only to indicate what some of the booty is, uncaring who’s hands it falls into as more important things a re clearly on his mind.

"My need is urgent: I have already been delayed and must speak with the mayor. The items in that bag?" he points at the two small leather pouches, two gems (both with blue and green alternate facets), two scrolls (in cases) and three small stone jars that Jarek has just emptied out from the bag.

"Well, the jars are filled with a healing ointment, I know that - to anoint wounds. The scrolls I haven't read, the gems - hmm, there was another one, I thought?... - are magical but I don't know what they do. The leather pouches are Hawker Bags: drop an item in one bag, it appears in the other after a period of time. You can set the time but I don't know how."

He pauses again, picking his words carefully.

"Anyway, you have whatever you have come for by your own words and none of you have answered my question: "Why are you here anyway and who are you?". I cannot help but feel, with my apologies, at least a little uncomfortable."

"I will leave now, and wish you luck, if you will permit me."

His recovery is as remarkable as it is complete.

As Cahlrhuvianne sets off back to Galent, after a brief word with Jiriki, the barbarian showing the ring on his finger to the demihuman who looks very serious and a not little worried at seeing it, Jiriki then passes one tooth over to Suva and Jarek begins to lead the team back through the flowing waterfall, down and along the tunnel to the trapdoor where Morin waits on guard.

Balin and Dalrylshana bring up the rear, helping the traumatised dwarf along; although he is still incommunicado, he is capable of being urged in certain directions but he has to be strongly urged into the tunnel: whatever is still aware in his shattered mind certainly doesn't want to go back into the stronghold!

The eager Suva, trailing Jarek, meanwhile, heads along the tunnelway; there is no light ahead where Morin might be expected to be but at the end of the tunnel his lantern is discovered – put out and placed to one side.

Jarek signals a pause as he picks up a whispered voice from the trapdoor above: Morin. “Please don't touch the trapdoor yet, it appears to be trapped. I would recommend going back for a little while - say an hour, as things aren't looking too good up here."

The party wait for a while, as Morin asks, Dalrylshana taking Morth back towards the waterfall as he is becoming hysterical as he approaches the stronghold – divine magic from Suva calms him a little.

Upon returning to the trapdoor, it appears that there have been masons working to fill in the area where the secret door was (a filling in that has been tinkered with by Morin) and now Morin is essentially trapped in the small room that the trapdoor leads into. The obvious solution would be to open the trapdoor – except that some sort of runes have been painted upon them. There is magic there certainly and Suva’s attempt to dispel it seems to fail as the runes remain and Morin’s attempts to physically remove them result in some magical energy side effects. Resorting to more earthly tactics, Morin had an idea: since the runes were ON the door, not around it, it might be possible to remove the trapdoor wholesale and avoid setting off any trap. The wooden door, reinforced with iron, is attached to an iron frame set in stone, the idea was simply to erode enough of the stone to make the frame removable. He began work on his side and then the work was aided, after some misunderstandings, from below - care being taken not to accidentally knock open the trapdoor.

After only thirty further minutes, the trapdoor is loosening in its fixings: Morin has been working hard but a lot of the unexpected speed of success has come from Balin, who - although he can't wield a sword wearing them - is discovering his gauntlets would appear to enhance his strength; he has been hacking bits of masonry and rock away from the frame area (as Suva cringed below at the seeming danger of it all) and is sure the whole frame is now loose. It would appear also, that the dampness and environment in the tunnel had weakened this side of the fixings more than Morin could tell from above. Fortunately.

With Morin helping make sure the door does not flap open, Balin, supported and steadied by Darius manages with a heave to remove the frame upwards. Morin quickly moves it to one side on the floor in the room; he looks something of a mess, even through the hazy torch-smoke of the little room: from head to toe he looks as though he has been dipped in an abattoir as his entirety is steeped with blood and gobbets of flesh still cling to area of his clothing, matted now with brick dust.

For all the work and hacking away, you haven't been overly noisy: there doesn't appear to be any alarm being raised and the only urgency is Morin’s fervent desire to get to the waterfall. Whether Morin’s supposition about the trapdoor or Suva’s magic are the reason, it is a relief that nothing explodes as he drops down from the room into the tunnelway; the cleric follows him to heal if needed. And the removed trapdoor remains magical and eerily cold to the touch – Morin clearly has design for using this perhaps later….

After a little while, Morin and Suva return, Morin looking considerably different now with hair rinsed and tied back and the gore removed from his clothes and a fresh cloak. He seems OK. Jarek is also returned from checking on and giving water to the dwarf (who remains tied up but is quiet at the waterfall end of the tunnel).

Neither Suva nor Morin spotted any battalions of ogres coming down the valley, so all seems safe still - at least for now.

In the small room above the trapdoor, a section of the newly constructed wall has had the thin layer of mortar or glue holding the bricks together almost wholly removed so that with a tug, the whole section will come away. The only difficulty is actually getting a grip, for which purpose Morin has dug away some of the brick so that you can get a sword or something in to lever the section out.

It won't be seamless and perfect when replaced if you manage to return this route, but it is essentially a basic secret door that could easily be missed.

Beyond the trapdoor and back in the stronghold, the trapped souls await, but they will wait longer yet – Morin needs to share what he has learned and beckons the party away from the trapdoor.