Emral assists. He suggests boiling the meat in the cauldron if it’s more economical than roasting over the fire.

I’m not sure what to do until we rest and heal, but we can’t keep going one day at a time for food and fuel. Maybe drain the pool with the cauldron to see if there’s a bottom or a secret escape route?

While Malak skins the wolves, Emral takes the cauldron and starts filling it from the pool and pouring it out off the dais.

Before starting he is talking with Malak the entire time, just in case something attacks him or his companion while they work.

How deep is the pool?

achiriaco wrote:

fireinthedust wrote:

While Malak skins the wolves, Emral takes the cauldron and starts filling it from the pool and pouring it out off the dais.

Before starting he is talking with Malak the entire time, just in case something attacks him or his companion while they work.

How deep is the pool?

I agree

Emral leaves the room through the burned out doorway to the right of the pulpit,  talking all the while. Beyond, he reports in a raised voice so that Malak, still busy carving the hide from the winter wolf, can hear:  
"The ash-heap of the table lays in the center of the room. Wind wisps in through the broken out windows high above on the left hand wall. The wooden door on the right hand wall's corner remains closed. The pot hangs in the fireplace...
But hark Malak, the pot's handle is affixed to the accursed heavy chain!"

 

Last edited by Iron Ranger (11/10/2018 12:10 am)

The chain disappears into the darkness of the rising flue.

achiriaco wrote:

Use waterskins to fill it up. Or handfuls of snow.

I drag the harp to the pool and stand it up before pushing it in, then guide it so I can see how deep the pool goes.

Iron Ranger wrote:

fireinthedust wrote:

achiriaco wrote:

Use waterskins to fill it up. Or handfuls of snow.

I drag the harp to the pool and stand it up before pushing it in, then guide it so I can see how deep the pool goes.

Emral returns to the chapel, praises the fleet progress of Malak toward dinner, then carefully maneuvers the large and misshapen instrument to the edge of the waist high pulpit, then hoists the harp up and onto the raised dais. 
Further he drags it  the 5 ft to the lip of the pool near the wall, then stands it upright.
Now Malak watches with great interest the hard part - Emral lifts the bulky harp out over the pool, then carefully lowers it down, he sinews trembling under the great weight, into the murky water. 
1 ft, 2 ft...
At 3 ft - the exact height of the raised pulpit - the harp rests against the pool's bottom.

Wow! Warlock. Good Job!

Deep shadows fall across the room, as the feeble sun descends again....

Looking at the harp as you pull it out, no acidic reaction has inflicted the metal.
The water is thick with dark, murky algae, not soot.
You dip your arm under the surface up to the shoulder and then some before your fingertips touch the bottom.
You fan out feeling across the bottom , but the pool is 4ft across and 6ft wide so you barely scratch the surface, and find nothing but smooth base in the small area you can reach.

The water is freezing. The bottom feels much smoother than the stone floor.
The raps with your knuckles feel meaningless in the depths of this much water. 

Emral notes that the rogue is busy, and shrugs. “For knowledge!” And casts the burning hands fully into the pool, all of the spread focused instead on the one object.

Perhaps, the warlock mused, this nook once dried out would serve as a better resting place for poor Olo than the rough ground where beasts could gnaw upon his bones.