It had been so simple at first that it was funny. Handy had met up with three of them, descending a spiral staircase to a small room where they had been trying to open a heavy, black, iron door with details of swans flying over a river imprinted upon the metal. There had been a lever they had failed to move. They had exchanged pleasantries and banter, Handy feigning ignorance of knowing anything about that sound of a collapsing cavern they had all heard as he leant a hand to the task, only to have the lever frustrate their efforts by refusing to budge no matter how much might and magic and swearing was applied to it. And then Thorax embarrassed them all by simply pushing the already opened door open.