Aquisitions (II)

Now in a large hallway, and up to his knees in running water the cloaked form articulated a few arcane words to a light spell and saw his robes runes increase in their intensity. A couple slight sharp hand gestures and he floated above the frigid underground stream. His detection spell still active, he proceeded down the hall and avoided or disarmed any wards or traps found and travelled down the tunnels he had once walked as a neonate of the Prince of Lies. He came to a large room that seemed to list to one side, as if the entire plateau had shifted in a great quake. One half lay dry, with a doorway clearly visible and the other lay in deep water, its doorway nearly completely submerged beneath the watery depths. Concentrating on the now much clearer whispers in his mind, he discerned that the dry path was the one to take. Relieved, he landed lightly on the dry floor and after a brief scan of the archway, and the hall beyond he moved gingerly through it. A thunderous snap sounded as his protective spells absorbed the brunt of the hidden ward. Stunned, and sent sprawling he shook off the daze and regained his senses. Muttering an oath not so polite to Raistlin's heritage he narrowed his eyes at the now apparent ward. It was definitely Raistlin's, the stylized 'R' being a clear indication. Watching in silence as it slowly faded he scanned the room again as he recast his protective mantle against lightning. He stood and stretched his statically charged muscles and then continued, more cautiously, down the corridor to a dim glow at the other end. He found himself standing in a large circular room with several other exits, some viable and others collapsed and impassible by normal means. The glow emanated from a single sphere hanging in the air at the center of the chamber. The chamber seemed to silence the mind whispers that had brought the StrifeLord here. Glancing at the other exits, there was no indication of the correct one to take. Most certainly, the wrong direction would lead to several wards and potentially fatal injuries. He unstrung a symbol from his belt and sneered as he gazed upon the emblem bearing a Flame surrounded by Eight Stars. A Holy symbol of Mystra recently taken from the corpse of a high ranking Wizard within that faith. Completing another arcane phrase, the object softly glowed and levitated from his hand. It suddenly cracked and fell into dust on the floor. The Lord looked at the marking the dust had formed. An arrow pointing directly to the first exit to his left. S.