The entrance to the dungeon was a crumbling archway set into the hillside, surrounded by withering grass, a sure sign of the dungeon's influence. Already it had claimed the lives of two young children of the village. Realizing that the crumbling archway was more mouth than decaying ruin made you stumble for a moment and swallow.

"Keep up, commoner." One of the sour faced delvers called back. "It's just a hole in the ground."

A hole with a heart, and teeth enough to devour two children whose only crimes were listening to too many old stories about treasures pulled from places like this. You shake the thoughts from your head and adjust your heavy pack. Twenty five gold pieces, left in the care of the preacher in case you didn't return, was the only reason you kept moving toward the archway.

"What'd we bring the commoner for anyway?"

You try not to grind your teeth at the remark. They damn well knew why you were here.

> You are a hunter and trapper by trade, with the right instincts to make a good trap spotter.
> You are the village cursebreaker, with the arcane aptitude and training to pick apart magic, hostile and otherwise.
> You are a local stablehand, here to manage and mules and carry out the loot.
> You are the village healer's apprentice, here to be backup for the delver's healer