Four rows of three pillars each stand on the bridge. There are five colors of pillar: blue, yellow, red, green, and white. No row has more than one of the same color of pillar, nor any column. There are four levers in a row in front of the bridge, each with a slot that is clearly missing something rod-shaped.

"Gonna guess it doesn't react well to attempts at parts substitutions."

"I'm going to have to agree. Well, searching for lever bits isn't the most tedious thing the mad mage could have us doing. Probably."

"Probably." Any immediately obvious?

Not in the central chamber. There are exits to the north and south. (And the east, but that way is back to the inn.)

"Flip a coin or left-hand rule it?" Garrus asks.

She gets out her notebook and starts a map. "Wanna bet the puzzly bastard has heard of the left hand rule?"

"Probably," Garrus sighs.

"Deekin like idea of going north," Deekin contributes.

"North it is." What is north? They. They is north.

North they is!

It's twisty-windy, but there's no forks in the road for a while. There's a couple of minor traps that Garrus spots before they can do anything, along with another couple of runic circles that everyone gives a wide berth. Belmarniss's map is looking pretty straightforward so far.

They come to a small alcove containing a treasure chest, lid invitingly open, overflowing with gold coins stamped with Halaster's own face.

Garrus sighs. "Is it wrong that I expected a higher caliber of trap? Is that tempting fate?"

"Maybe it gets worse farther down, so that the real art is reserved for connoisseurs."

"You might be right."

They pass the obvious trap, and they come eventually to a door with a sign that reads DISTURB NOT THE REST OF THE SLEEPING KINGS!

Well, that might be a riddle or it might be some sort of genuine warning or it might be a red herring. "Is this a cultural reference I'm not getting?" she murmurs.

"Hall of Sleeping Kings famous Undermountain feature," Deekin says with a hushed sort of tour-guide cadence. "Bodies of ancient humanoid kings Halaster steal from tombs. 'Great kings and queens and sorcerers, all from lands that existed before other lands that have also been forgotten.' They be very old. And here they sleep. Supposedly they not do much unless you try to steal their stuff."

"I don't suppose we can rouse them and convince them to be helpful?"

"Undead rarely are," Jojo says, scrunching up his nose. "I will admit to a certain desire to put them to rest for good."

"I considered being a lich once, maybe they're lovely folks. I admit it's not the smart money option."

Jojo shudders genteelly. "I do not think liches stay, ah, lovely folks."

From within the Hall of Sleeping Kings, there comes a faint voice. "Is that the telltale sound of adventurers I hear?"

"Who wants to know?"

“Enserric the Grey. Erstwhile wizard, current prisoner of the eponymous Sleeping Kings of this hall. Must we shout at each other through this door?"

"We were just debating waking up the kings and leaning nay, do you suppose it will do that?"

"No, I can say with confidence that it will not."

She looks at her party rather than unilaterally go for the door.

"If they're holding someone prisoner in there, then I do think we have a moral duty to help him," Jojo says.