The scout readies an arrow, but Paval signals the two to stop. He scans the bridge for a suitable specimen, then quietly chants a paryer to his goddess, while placing a coin in the mouth of a skull. A few moments later, the skeleton of a dwarven warrior stands in front of him, waraxe and shield in hand. A few pieces of a once proud chainmail clings to the bones, a half-split helmet adorns the bare skull. Paval utters a short command and the skeleton lumbers towards the floating skull, axe raised and a silent cry on its non-existing lips. As the attacker draws his axe back to smash the skull, it explodes nigh soundlessly into a cloud of bone-shards, dust and dirt. While hitting the skeleton, it does nigh to no damage. The skeleton stands at the spot of the floating skull, looking for any opponents, but seems to find none.
"A trap," says Tathlyn, stating the obvious. "It will get more interesting from now on, I would assume."
As you proceed to the end of the bridge, some sort of ruined city is being revealed by the retreating darkness. On shorn-off stalagmites, crude (i.e. dwarven) building come into view. Few sport windows or doors, but those few that can be seen are torn open or smashed apart. A few skeleton lie about too, yet most of them have been grounded to near dust by something that trampled over them. The ground is flat and covered by dust und debris, you can spot all sorts of tracks, but it is hard to say how old they are.