A light little smile, and a little shimmy of her hips. 

"Nice sword." 

She takes a looksee at what's past the door. 

A grim chamber, walls lined with stone coffins. A great granite sarcophagus in the centre, ornately wrought with the figures of some kind of monstrous upright snakes.

Beyond, a small room in which stands some dark idol, difficult to see in the darkness.

She gestures her forward with a smooth wave of her arm, and slips in behind her, watching the idol warily. 

The glint of water or polished metal. A hideous mass of something like writhing intestines. 

A surge of flame, and a wary step forward, and a glance at her adventuring partner. 

She's not going for a strike quite yet - it doesn't do to discriminate or jump ahead of things, but you gotta call a spade a spade sometimes. 

Indeed.

She crosses the chamber in great strides and plunges her sword down.

Smite Evil.

The idol cracks asunder. 

The water trickling through this chamber has worn through the floor around the horrible serpentine statue, revealing a long dark hallway underneath.

Oh that is a nice trick. Good to see she's got more of those in her pocket. Though it looked flashy enough she doubts it's too spammable...

She follows along, and glances up a little dubiously at the roof and floor. Dungeons tend to hold up pretty okay, but it's not exactly the sort of thing she wants to trust. 

The roof looks solid, but the floor in here does sag down a little under the weight of the broken idol, around the hole through which the water trickles. 

Looking down below - a damp, cramped corridor that opens suddenly onto a gigantic, echoing underground hall, far larger than anything up here. Dim outlines of statues just barely visible in the torchlight. 

"A false tomb."

She secures a rope to the broken idol, tugging to make sure, and hops down through the hole, landing with a crash of metal, and scans around herself. 

Nothing. 

"Jump. I will catch you."

She raises her eyebrows a little, and then shrugs her shoulders. 

With a little hup, she slips down through the hole. 

She catches her neatly and sets her on her feet in a firm and businesslike fashion, because she has a job to do. 

A huge stone hallway, oppressively gloomy; it seems to swallow the torchlight, extending into darkness. 

Vast, worn statues line the walls. One of them is visibly askew, the square base no longer quite flush with the wall. 

Aww. She'll let that slide, still, and slip out. 

It's cute that she thought she needed to catch her, but it feels like it's a part of what, her... professionalism? That if there's a thing to do to help out, she may as well slip into that task, because she's become inured to it enough that it's no 'real' burden. 

She shakes her head slightly, then takes a look out at them, before inquisitively glancing over at the skew statue, taking a moment to catch up to her and tilt her head in its direction, beckoning her off to take a closer look. 

Aeolyn is in fact not quite thinking about it in those terms. She is doing the right thing to do. It really is not that hard. She does not truly understand why people tend to find it so. Of course it is her duty to help. She is strong and people can benefit from it, and if everyone could think that way they would be halfway to heaven.

She can dimly tell that Scarlet is - bothered by something? 

She would like to fix that. She will make a note of it.

There's a gap about a hand's width between the statue and the wall, and a hollow space behind it.

This is what pokey sticks were made for. In it goes? 

The statue can be levered aside, with a pokey stick for a lever and enormous strength! Gold and silver glint inside!

Into their stores it goes. 

On they go down the hall, then. 

"Bipedss." It seems to have congealed out of the darkness. "You have come to vissit. There are certainly many of you today."

"Yeah. A necromancer made their way here and that makes things here our business, unfortunately. Plan is just to deal with 'em and then get out without lingering. Apologies if that imposes, but needs must, y'know?"

This is really, really not good. She drops her hand casually to her sword. 

"It's only a petty criminal. Let us deal with it."

It shrugs, a ripple of bone and old dust. "The priests will take care of it. Their law is like iron. Are you here for a tour?"

...She'll have to ask after that later. 

"- Sure, we can do a tour."

'like Iron' isn't exactly the most flattering comparison. She's seen plenty of warriors who boast of 'iron bodies', but that sort of thing is only a journeyman's effort, in her opinion. Still, it's strong enough for most mortal things, so hopefully they haven't made asses of themselves.