Tillak's torchlight falls across the doors. The words have been crudely carved into the old wood. Finally, he manages to work out the shapes and reads them aloud.

Herein perished the Wicked Generation. Gods forgive us for what we've done.

[Is the barricade still across the doors, it was to stop them opening inwards? Can they see inside. Is part pushed open for entry?]

Narrhil tries looking in with what light there is and see if there is any danger and if the space is big enough for a man to squeeze through.

"Should we enter?" Tillak asks his companions.
 

"Let us light a second torch. I know they are scared but if we hurl one inside and see what is there, we can extinguish it later to preserve our resource!" States Narrhil.

“Ok. I got one or two torches left.”

Kèet will light a torch and toss it in.

[I’m out of town so I might not get another post for a couple days.]

Narrhil nods, grim-faced, he peers into the void, and await for the inevitable. 

[TIllak is holding torch 2 of 7 (burning). He has the remaining 5 in his pack.]

Keet lights torch 3 of 7 and tosses it inside. It lands agains the stone floor and rolls to a stop 5 ft from the bulk of a wolf carcass.
There are 2 pews blocking the doors. They are affixed with rope.
​There is no movement inside the room.

Caveman wrote:

"A wolf carcass; we killed it when we first fought in the church together, do you remember Sir Votin?" Narrhil asked, while hoping he not remember too much; as he had near killed the two adventurers, Tillak included when he first met them with his wand of freezing.

"Aye ...seemed like ages ago...frozen and edible I assume?"
 

Tillak's stomach involuntarily growls at the mention of food.