This is either a brilliant plan, a stupid plan, or both. You dodge trolls to reach the crude tunnel's wooden support strut and look around for a suitable tool to knock it out of position. Fortunately, there are plenty of tools to choose from; seizing a maul, you examine the architectural situation one last time and then slam the big hammer into the most vulnerable wooden strut.

The tunnel partially collapses, and a wave of black earth knocks you to the ground. Several trolls are trapped in the collapse, triggering a general panic as the survivors try to flee back down the tunnel.

Then a second deafening crack sends you tumbling end over end. Did you break more than you should have? You can't see with dirt cascading all around you. You half rise and see that one of the wooden support struts that maintains the pit's shape has snapped.

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Everything shakes. The dirt beneath your hands churns, then suddenly the ground gives way, and you find yourself falling down into darkness.

You awaken to the faint clatter of stones, the gentle hiss of dirt sliding down a slope. A dim shaft of daylight, filled with drifting motes, illuminates the heap of earth and stones upon which you landed. The opening is far overhead. You can't see anyone above, but several dead trolls lie around you.

In the darkness and amid the heaps of stones and broken bodies, it takes you a moment to notice the idols. These aren't the crude clay figurines you saw above, now smashed and scattered, almost indistinguishable from the jagged stones beneath your feet. No, these are five tall and ancient figures, the gods of your ancestors. They appear simply but elegantly carved, and time has stripped the lacquer from the wood and streaked them with lines of water and salt.