"It's not that steep Mister Scott," Quentin says with a chuckle as he tests the gate. "We crawl. Though perhaps we may find an alternative way out of here." Setting down he searches for something he can use as a pry, settling on his pick trying to wedge into the gate and pry it open. "As for what we do next Miss Devereaux, we try and find a way forward." Not that there was much of immediate interest around besides the lever.

Hardly comforted by the notion of having to crawl his way up the same narrow opening, Gareth put it out of his mind for now. He looked at what the little circle of light could show. Clearly there had to be some kind of treasure indeed, for people had been here before. He watched Quentin try the door and walked over to the level. "What does this do?" He pulled it.

She watched as Gareth pulled the lever and if there was even time to wonder, she wondered what was about to happen.

The lever, surprisingly, goes down with only a bit of effort on Gareth's part. There is a loud ka thunk as it sounds like some mechanism has been triggered. There had been a sound of dripping water and that got louder. Quentin has just enough time to look up before the floor underneath Gareth suddenly crashes down turning to a ramp on an extremely steep slope. The reporter would have no chance as he is sent tumbling into the abyss.

When the rope pulls taut on Claire she might have been able to brace herself but she was just at the lip of the newly made ramp so odds were she'd be yanked over before she could react. Which left Quentin, who suddenly had the weight of two full-grown adults yanking against his midriff. He tightens his grip on his pick ax as he is yanked towards the hole sharply and for a moment he brings all three of them to a halt.

However, his companions combined weight strains against his grip on the handle of his pick. A handle that was nothing more than wood, he'd not bothered to wrap it with leather for extra grip. A decision he regrets as his grip slips and he too is sent plunging down the slide.

For slide it was, a water slide, the three companions would find shortly after they started to slide there was an unpleasant bump and then water was surrounding them sending them hurtling into the dark through, twisting this way and that as they are carried further and further away from where they'd entered.

The words 'instant regret' might describe what Gareth felt as the ground beneath his feet disappeared and he was hurled down with an uncomfortable lurch of the stomach. For a moment, he stopped and was suspended , water beating down on him, and not necessarily making it more comfortable. Then he moved again, and slid down, on and on, with now control over his body.

With a startled cry, she found herself easily dragged down with the reporter. Her stomach lurched as they suddenly stopped and she went past Gareth until she was suspended at the bottom. Then they were hurtling down, down, and down further still. She sputtered and gasped for breath whenever she could. Damn it, he had to go and pull the no-no lever!

It was hard to say how long they fell for. It definitely felt longer than it was but how long it actually took was anyone's guess. However, they finally were launched out into open air and when they were they only had a moment before plunging down into deep black water. The three might be worried they were going to drown but they hit the bottom of the pool after only about ten feet which made orienting themselves and getting back to the surface a bit easier.

Good thing Gareth had learned how to swim. When his feet hit the bottom, he instinctively pushed himself up and swam to the surface. He came up, coughing, and feeling like he couldn't breathe to his nose, for it prickled. He gasped for air.

She too was glad for knowing how to swim. She kicked at the bottom of the dark pool of water and then launched herself upward. Her gasp for air came as she broke the surface. Claire looked around to find the others and said, "Are you alright?" She was directing this at both men, treading water and lifting a hand up to push wet strands of hair out of her face. What had they gotten themselves into now?

"I'm fine."

Quentin says as he picks a direction and starts to swim. They were in complete darkness and the water was unpleasantly cold so every moment spent waiting was time wasted.

"You'll feel a tug on the rope, swim toward it."

Quentin calls as he feels his hand brush against stone, he feels up and finds a lip and works on scrambling ontop of it. He was already exhausted since he was still wearing his pack, his clothes were drenched, and the water had taken the breath from him. But that doesn't stop him from dragging himself out of the water and tugging on the rope connecting him to his compatriots.