The tiny purple flame flickered and danced on its wick. The light shone out and warmed the tall crystal, magically balanced on its long point. The grim mercenaries cleaned their blades and watched the shadows cast against the wall.
“Is there some kind of pattern?” asked the half-orc.
“We’ll need some scholars here, no doubt,” muttered the dwarf.
Laden, the halfling, crept closer to the design. “These motes here, I know these,” with a tiny finger, he traced a pattern between dots, “This is the Belt of Skrim. And here, The Sleeping Beast, and The Otus Dagger. These are constellations. This is a map of the cosmos. We can use this,” the little sorcerer ran over to fiddle with the crystal’s focusing plate.
“Hey now, don’t touch it. You don’t know what it’ll… I mean,” the drunk elf leaned against a nearby desk, “That could do anything in here. This whole place is weird magic,”
Just then, a menacing scream from below.
“The hell was that!?!” the barbarian whispered as he drew steel.
“Oh that’s just the trolls downstairs,” nodded the half-orc, “It’s even weirder, trust me. You don’t want to know,”