Brave Sir Zomberth and his henchman Wilfric the Lame, in another of their dungeoneering romps, stumble upon your usual dark-god altar complete with ritual gold offering. Wilfric seems a bit hesitant to gather the coins, but soon-to-be flattened Sir Zomberth is confident.
After all, who the heck would put a trap to protect an altar to W'urgh'gla'bhul'eyaaagh-skrach'warrrgh, dark god of pain, suffering, undead and generally bad things?
The loud *clunk* on the ceiling should be a dead giveaway. But Brave Sir Zomberth is a bit deaf. Or too damn greedy. Or Both.
*one, two, three... trapdoors away!*
*Roll!* your saves, gentlemen!
What noise does a 10-ton studded wood-and-iron wheel make when falling on a deaf adventurer?
Shoulda spent a couple more slots in those agility skills, like Wilfric, eh?
"And general bad things" huh, like Warthogs, Pelican Dropships and Master Chiefs... (please no more master chiefs, I don't think my liver could take having to get another one out of my system) Later ~ Chris.