Motsognir ignores the ugly one and waits for his ladylove to ascend to him.

The clever dwarf lowered a rope and I climbed out of the pit, on the right side this time. I ruffled his hair in thanks then set about searching amongst the sarcophagi for treasure.

With everyone but Gabriel (visibly confining a snicker) on the opposite side of the pit, Bob returns to his original ambition of grave robbing. Peeking under a sarcophagus lid and waving away the dust, he plucks a gold bracelet from some unfortunate's shattered forearm.

Small gold bracelet: 50 GP

"Well, that's peculiar. You'd think the hooded fella would've at least taken the valuables if he was going to be disturbing the graves anyway."

The dwarf followed suit via the rope and joined the others on the other side.

OR DOES HE?

Edit: Yes.

Well now I ain't feel so dumb in using a rope that ain't even secured. You can't blame a person of my peculiarities for not clearing a pit in such a manner!

"Well we ought to put Jane's bones in a nice coffin or somethin' for now, so she ain't have t' come with us if she ain't keen on it."

"We can stow her for the moment. I doubt the lady will mind another few hours. We'll perform last rites and set her up somewhere nice when we get back."

The dwarf glanced at the ghost.

"I mean, if that fits with your fancy, miss."

"There's no need to tote me around with you everywhere, no. I'd just get in the way. I mean, if I weren't incorporeal. Besides, now I'm out of the pit I have a little more vertical range."

She flies straight up through the ceiling, leaving only her feet visible.

"Hey!" comes a muffled shout from the cavern above. "Giant caterpillars! Who's a big fuzzy-wuzzums. You are! You are!"

I gently laid the ghost's remains in the corner and pocketed the bangle I had found. With everyone safely over the pit, it was time for action.

"Right-o chaps, onwards, to ADVENTURE" I cried and began to edge across the room, checking for traps as I went. Falling into a spike filled pit twice in one day was pretty much my limit.

Once I reached the northern door, I listened at it for signs of life, or more likely, undeath.

The dwarf readied his axe, using his dungeoneering to see if there was any obvious placement for traps in this here, well, dungeon. It was what he did, you see. Play in dungeons. He also used his knowledge of religion to see if there were any obvious markings to tell them who it was that watched over this place.

NOTHING SEEMS AMISS

ffs move

Argumentus moves north and peers down the corridor that's apparently there. And if there isn't a corridor, crack open the door and peek in.

Argumentus grows tired of the incessant examination of the pit room, and travels north into the empty corridor. After a short passage the hall opens up into another sepulchral chamber, piled with wooden caskets in various stages of advanced decay. A hooded figure with a scythe stalks from coffin to coffin, prying each open and examining the contents before slamming it shut with a hiss.

Argumentus is either not noticed, or intentionally ignored. An iron door blocks an apparent route to the west. A wooden portcullis blocks a doorway to the north; the room beyond is clustered with heavy cobwebs.

I decide to give a good listen at the west and south doors. Maybe they don't sound like death, and have something useful to steal appropriate in our noble quest to rid Hargast of the violent living dead.

At the south door, Brigid hears two angry voices (one male, one female) shouting at each other. Though Brigid doesn't understand their language, they seem to be having an argument.

The west door is entirely silent.

"Uhhh, lookin for sumpin?"

"You might say that."

The hooded figure turns to Argumentus, but the rasping voice seems to come from every direction. Beneath the hood, two tiny flames like guttering candles flicker in the still air. The cloak is otherwise filled only by darkness.

"Have you seen, perhaps, two human children? About yea high. They're... late for an appointment, let us say."

The dwarf all but ran into Arg's back, looking around him as his eyes widen.

"Wait, wait. I know how this one works. Challenge him to a game of chess."

http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/music/billandted460.jpg

The dwarf scrutinized the figure. He couldn't really be death, could he? Surely the lady would come herself if it was. So just what the hell is this thing?

religion check

Gabriel realizes the hooded thing is a Reaper.

Common folk regard reapers as embodiments of death that escort souls to the Shadowfell, but their true nature is more sinister. Reapers are servants of Vecna, and they are sent out by the god and his followers to collect souls for profane rituals. Many reapers are also in the service of demon lords, especially Orcus, who uses them for the same foul purpose as Vecna does.

"Nnnope. Tell ya if I see 'um."

With that Argumentus turns around and bursts in on the room where Brigid could hear the voices.

Despite Jane's warning that the southwest door was trapped, Argumentus heedlessly flings it open anyway. A tiny needle hidden in the door's handle impales his hand, but he barely notices it. It might itch later, maybe?

A pair of half-elves are arguing in this room, and as they notice Argumentus entering they immediately abandon the strange language they were using previously and address him in Common.

"You there!" the woman says. "How many cubic feet of dirt are there in a ditch 5 yards wide, 10 feet deep, and 20 yards long?”

Motsognir bursts through Argumentus' legs, hearing a riddle.

"Aha!" He exclaims. "There is no dirt! It is a ditch!"

"Oh", they both mutter in dismay, vanishing in a puff of logic.

175 XP (35 each). Level up! This will take a while so don't necessarily expect the wikis to be 100% accurate right away.

Argumentus takes a good look at the desk on the carpet.

I investigate the northwest passage from the new room. If Jane's so helpful to tell me about traps, I heed her warning. She's right kind to warn me of such things and I'll return the favor by not ignoring her.

Even though such rudeness made me level up.

Somehow.

...

You betcha!