"We've been walking for hours in this stinking hole and this is the first door that we've come across" replied Grimy.
"The door is barred from the other side. If you break it down you risk bringing the whole hive down on us....or worse."
The old prospector stopped before an arch panelled wall and deftly ran his hand along the crumbling and rotten plaster. "Now, just where are you hiding" he mumbled to himself.
'The old prospector's drunk one too many bottles of Second Best' thought Brigitte.
There was an audible CLICK.
And nothing happened.
No fetid wind spilled out, no stench of rot or decay, no sign of long years passed, only a waft of cool, dry air. 'And yet the feeling is of opening a coffin.' thought Brigitte as they stepped into the gloom.