She slipped down the hall, keeping to whatever cover she could find, her eyes constantly sweeping for traps or foes. At one point, she felt something rough shift ever so slightly underfoot, and she caught herself, glancing downwards to see a cleverly concealed net beneath a layer of stone dust. Grimacing, she quietly negotiated the net, stepping free of the far side within reach of the doors.
Pressing her ear to the door, she could faintly hear a voice, deep and guttural, saying something, followed by a few more voices echoing it. She guessed there were three or four lizardmen inside, going through some kind of prayer. With the element of surprise, she might have a good chance at winning a fight.
Carefully opening the door, she winced as it creaked, its' aged hinges protesting the movement, and she ducked through it, slipping behind the nearest cover. A brief glance revealed the door opening had not been noticed, and she was inside an antechamber. It was fairly large, its' many decorative motifs and busts shattered by age and more collapsed portions of the chamber. The one highlight, however, was what appeared to be a suit of armor hanging in the air in the center of the room, with a particularly large lizardman leading three more in some kind of worship. The followers were kneeling on the floor in front of the leader, who had his head up as though beseeching some sort of god above.
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