Ephkabey

But...I spent all last night and this morning drafting a thesis on why no one would ever use two-way hinges in a dungeon. What am I supposed to do with this wall of text? ...Oh well... Ctrl+A Del

Serpe is taken aback by Dougal's sudden closing of the door and he clutches his staff with both hands, "If these things are anything like the rats at home, they'll probably just chew through the door. We may have no choice but to fight!"

Fallen

Seconded.

RE: the turning tables, I'd also lean to option 2.

Out

That makes a considerable difference. Here I was hoping we'd be fighting off swarms at every turn...though I don't think we rule that out quite yet. ;)

This table is very generous by comparison to the BFRPG table, with a lvl 1 cleric turning 8/10/12 vs BFRPG at 13/17/19. The penalty obviously makes up that gap after 5-7 encounters with undead, which seems like a lot in a single rest period. So at least we have some info on what to expect. =D

cailano, could you please verify whether this is indeed west or meant to be (east)?

Serpe will start mapping and probably extinguish his lantern once we start moving. He was mostly just using it to examine the entry room. Having a backup running isn't a bad idea in case something happens to Allen suddenly, which is more probable now; but in the interest of maxing our oil out...it's probably better to save it until we know more about what we're dealing with inside the maze. Per the BFRPG rules (pg 12, lantern), a flask of oil lasts 18+1d6 turns, with a turn being 10 minutes (pg 42), so each lasts just over three hours. Serpe has 5 flasks, Allen has 7 and I believe Dougal has some...as well as a few others probably. The oil itself is useful for tracking time, of course, especially in the event that the group is not going to be spending the night in the dungeon - in which case we'd want to head back to the entrance probably after 1.5 flasks (I'm assuming it's mid-morning now), or perhaps 2 flasks if we're willing to cut it closer to dark. Should we decide to stay in the dungeon, we probably have close to 2 days worth of oil on us assuming we're burning the whole time.

Serpe looks at Cyrus, "It *is* just a hole. Then a room. Then another room. We'll take it one step at a time. Don't worry Cy, Arcantryl will watch over us...as long as we take care of each other. As long as we have each others' backs...we'll make it out." The cleric grips the rope, locks eyes with the archer and nods before suddenly swinging his legs onto the rope, gripping it tightly with a grunt and slowly descending. Once at the bottom, he uses the torchlight to light his lantern and moves to the wall to examine the stonework, the bones and the frescoes.

Die

Is training by a higher level of your class required to level up (an if so, is gold required?), or are we doing an instantaneous level up once a character crosses the xp threshold?

As he watches his group enter the mound, Serpe rolls his eyes and looks at the heavens and rhetorically blasphemes beneath his breath, then grips the symbol of the Lady of Magic around his neck and offers a short prayer, "Please watch over this group, if you're able, they know not what they do." He then claps Tamson on the shoulder, "Well, thanks for your guidance my good man. There doesn't seem to be a shred of survival instinct amongst the lot of these...fellows. My travel companions, that is. So I guess we're going in. If we're not out by dusk, you know what to do...and if you don't see us in a week's time, or perhaps even a fortnight, consider Kiki" he affectionately scritches the mule, "and the cart to be yours. A reward for all your hard work and for saving our butts more than once. Be sure Brother Othar knows of our fate, if that's what comes to pass. Bollo will probably also want to know his extra revenue stream has dried up...and perhaps Turgen...and maybe Karg." Serpe decides to finally stop delaying and he swallows the lump of fear in his throat. Hefting his pack onto his back, the young cleric turns and blows out his frustration and anxiety from puffed up cheeks and marches toward the stairs descending into the mound, exaggerating his movements and forcing his feet forward in spite of the fear in his breast, looking somewhat like a toy soldier marching to the precipice of a child's bedside table. Once down into the burial chamber, he examines the four columns and musters a sense of bravado, mentioning to his party, "Yes. Yes. The evil emanating across the swamp definitely seems to be originating from this place. 'Tis a shame you godless types can't feel it." He rolls his tongue around his mouth in contemplation. "Tastes a bit like vomit tickling the back of your throat." He then moves to the edge of the hole and peers into the abyss, witnessing Thomas descending down the rope, he whispers, "It's better than Bollo's breakfast, at least."

Brisk