Simple [1d20] = 11 Failed.

Strange. She ponders to herself, what could the arms be? There was something magical here, something beyond her skill to understand. Exiting the mist if possible she stands by the Gypsy woman.

Sir Karl's sword takes on an odd translucent quality. Gradually it begins to dissipate almost as if it were made of mist itself! The weapon feels insubstantial in his hand and suddenly pops like a pricked soap bubble in a small cloud of vapor! The once-solid weapon scatters into the inky blackness like fog before the noonday sun!

Mira forces her legs to work and she and Karl are able to make it out of the mist; though not before the knight's weapon is gone completely! Jerry and Merrick begin to make their way across next. A new hand appears in the fog, latching onto the Mystaran's mace! The pair push through the sluggish effect and pass clear of the other side just as her weapon begins to fade! The spectral arm snaps back, loosing its grip as she exits and her mace re-solidifies.

Cross and Artanis stand watching the others. Perhaps we should wait for room to pass before we begin crossing... To the knight he calls, I have a silver blade you can use until we find something suitable...

Pyros leads on down the claustrophobic passage to his right... the slender stone passage widens after twenty feet or so to form a natural chamber. The entire area is littered with bones of all shapes and sizes. Some are obviously human,while others obviously aren't. An old rotting table leans against the far wall of the room. Two of its legs seem to have buckled so that it is tilted away from the entrance at a sharp angle. Because of this, it is impossibleto tell if anything rests upon the table or not...
====

Pyros heads back to the Gypsy and reports his findings.

Jerry sticks close to Merrick as the pair shuffle along to make room for those behind.

[Adtestia will pass along to the others Pyros' findings]

"That blade, it predates the cataclysm, it was in my family for generations!" Karl exclaims turning, searching frantically for the blade that was no longer there. "It was forged in Silvanesti, it is priceless.. This is a fools mission." He all but slumps down, his face aghast, unsure how to speak.

"Silver you say? A strange way to cast a sword, too soft. Yet needs must, I suppose." He barely raises his head, eyes still scanning the mist for the blade he wished was still at his side.

Despair not, The dusky gypsy fighter speaks. For even in such a place as the land of mists, those that are lost may yet turn up in the oddest places... The words seem to have the tennor of a long-worn saying to them.

Cross and Artanis move as the others shuffle to provide space. The mist phantoms reach for the sword in the redheaded ranger's right and, and for Gar! The sentient dagger giggles uncontrollably as if tickled at the prospect of becoming one with them. The dagger breaths a sigh of disappointment as they leave the fog. Artanis offers the sword in his left to the knight. The weapon is well-made steel with a silver edge set into both sides. true enough The Edge dulls quicker than a steel blade, yet I find it works wonders against certain Undead and shape changers... which we have found no shortage of in this land.

===
Adran and Pytor will have to wait to cross until the group chooses a path forward.

"Don't despair. Remember your Oath." Mira tries to lift a hand to place it on the warriors shoulder, the very movement felt strained, heavy somehow, like she was fighting through water. "A loss of hope is giving into despair. You are a Knight and stronger than that." She moves past and waits for the others.

Pyros advances into the room after filling in the group. Sticking to the edges, blending into any shadows, watching closely for any movement. Working to his way to the table if able.

[Which edge? The Left/West edge or the Right/East edge?]

Jerry looks round to see if she can spot anything that others may have missed.
"Ever heard of stuff like this before, Merrick?"

Merrick shakes his head as the pair study the odd mist. I've never even heard of anything like this... not even in my nightmares... Jerry racks her brain but cannot come up with any correlation. she is able only to conclude that it must be the by-product of the great evil in this realm and some secret Sinister intent.

Left.

Pyros makes his way slowly around the edge of the room, keeping a sharp eye on the bones covering the floor. The Kender steps lightly, weaving his small booted feet among the scattered bones as best he can to prevent disturbing them. He gets within 10 feet of the table when he begins to fall with a sudden lurch! The ground opens up beneath him and the diminutive rogue is unceremoniously dumped among a noisome clattering of pointy remains!

With a painfull crash he lands on something putrid and strangely squishy buried in the pile of jabbing jagged broken bones. Staring to push himself to his feet, his hand makes a squelch sound as it sinks into the rotting corpse beneath him! Ichor and decaying flesh coat his arm up to the elbow as bones shift to reveal the putrifying face of the unfortunate one beneath him! A chittering, scuttling noise echoes around him as nearly a dozen foot-long centipedes scurry out of the cracks in the wall of pit! Some move towards the Kender while others move towards the passage!

[Actions and Initiative!]
====
Everyone on this side of the black fog could hear the crash

The pit is 20' deep and now full of jagged bones (some of which Pyros landed on, ouch!)

Pyros pit trap [2d6] = 7
Pyros Falls 20' into a pit of bones for [2d6] =7 damage!
Pyros is Hurt Badly! [6/17 Hps]

Medium sized creatures cannot pass each other easily in the narrow passages.

apologies for the crude nature of the 'pit' sketch.
The centipedes are technically 'tiny' (about 1 foot long) but i made the icons larger for visual aid.
Blue circles indicate the bugs are on the rear or 'blue walls' (West and North). green circles indicate they are on the forward 'green walls' (East and South)