Forty-two sessions in, and the Hollowmere vault finally gave up its secret. The party spent the better part of two hours arguing about whether the runes on the door were Dwarvish or “just Dwarvish-adjacent,” which in hindsight should have been our first warning.
Brannigan, ever confident, stepped up to disarm the trap he’d scouted three sessions ago. He swore he had it. He did not have it.
The vault itself was worth it — a hoard of pre-Sundering coinage, a set of matched daggers that hum faintly when unsheathed, and a journal that nobody has translated yet. We’ll pick up next week with the party deciding what to do with a body and a very confused vault spirit.