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Timorel hoists the cleric across his back and (assuming they concur) follows Shybolt and / or Grumm toward the inn.

Shybolt leads the way, watching for danger and anything that would help him solve the puzzle.

Grumm will take the lead, glaive at the ready.

Shybolt falls to the rear to guard timorrel and arven as we move back to the tavern.

The air in the tunnels was bad; the entire party was coughing and choking by the time they returned to the inn. Fortunately for the injured cleric, the party met with no further opposition along the way.

And we're out of the dungeon. I'll leave the interlude here, and start a new thread when you descend again.

After checking his bandages, Timorel gently tucks Brother Arven into bed at the tavern.

(OOC: Then he tells him a nice bedtime story about an elven princess and her pony. In Arven's bizarre dreams, of course. Frankly, after the unconscious cleric's mumblings, Timorel is concerned about the poor man's soul ...)

Timorel asks after the inn folk, then proceeds to procure fresh air, food, drink, and sleep.

"Dammit," Grumm mutters. "We should have thrown that damn thing we killed into the river. Who knows what it's going to attract down there. Oh well - I need a drink and a full night's rest."

Shybolt gets something to eat and an ale, then sits up awhile to stand guard. The puzzle runs though his mind over and over. There must be a key to it somewhere. Hours later, no closer to solving the riddle, he wakes up timorrel (assuming grumm went back to his hut like usual) and gets him to stand guard. then hoping something will come to him in his sleep about the puzzle besides elven princesses and ponies, he turns in for some rest.

Nah, Grumm will hang around the inn. After the last attack, it seems the prudent thing to do.