The mead was delicious, the festival dancers were dancing perfectly, and the dim starlight from the mouth of the cave was relaxing. But something was dreadfully wrong. The drumming wasn’t at all in rhythm. At first he’d thought it was a new song that he hadn’t heard before, but no, it was just random pounding. And aside from that, silence. No singing, no laughter, no cheering or boasting. With a surge of adrenaline, he stumbled to his feet.
And then opened his eyes. Swaying slightly, he let out a sigh of disappointment. Back in the map room. No mead, no dancers. Must’ve dozed off. Not the only one either. The team lay slumped around, recovering. At least the door was still holding out against the non-rhythmic pounding from the other side, Eabd braced against it sturdily, still as a statue.
After a sip of water from his flask, Ranar moved carefully around the room, waking the others gentle prod and a “Hup! Wake it up! Tis a new night for a new fight!” Waking Aronn last, he hunched down in front of the elf and nodded towards the table. "Ye should take a look at that, let us know what we’re up against. If we’re gonna get outta here - with that thing - " he gestured toward the box, “we’re gonna need to know what we’re dealin’ with.” Unsure whether the elf might be frail or unnaturally spry, he stood and offered a hand to help Aronn up.