"Sure" as Yuphart'd takes the torches, he is wary of the chests but at the same time intrigued as too their contents.

"sure hope there are weapons in those chests." as he backs away from them.

"Yes,Standish, you look in chests, I move Over here (to oposite wall from chests.) and no forget try that key skeleton has. May circumvent trap if there be one. You get first pick from chest, if you check"

Seeing the small set of bones and the chests, Standgrid was suspicious of what they might hide.

Moving to the side of the chest, he cautiously open the first chest with his sword

Ithassen looks again at the small skeleton, there is something wrong with the idea of a child with a crossbow in a dungeon tunnel. He guesses it was probably a greedy goblin or halfling and something had killed it.

Seeing Yaphart'd and Stand moving toward the chests, Ithassen grabbed his mandolin and sang out, "Stop! In the name of loot, before you spring that trap!..... Stop! In the name of Loot, before some arrow zaps! Think it o.. o..ver!....... Think it o... o..ver!"

Ithassen hopes his new associates are careful.

halting suddenly (but keeping his position at the side of the chest), he turns his head to Ithassen:

"what are you talking about? It your idea in the first place."

though heeding the his words, Standgrid opens the chest a crack and hopes whatever traps he may have triggered would hit his new found allies first, hopefully giving him enough time to escape.

[author's note: srry guys gotta play it though even if it kills you (lawls)]

In the chest Standgrid opened is a leather right-hand glove. Knuckle-guards are attached, and it's in perfect condition.

There is a groan, and the adventurers cringe... before realising that it was the aged hinges on the chest.

All is well.

Composing himself quickly in his attempt to save face, however his voice slightly trembles.

*cough* "s-See there was nothing to worry about it's just a simple chest that's all."

he gaze at the contents before putting on the glove. "well would you look at that, it fits me perfectly." he said flexing the his fingers within the gloves.
"I wonder what's in the other one? Yuphart why don't you open it?"

As Stangrid flexed his fingers and moved the glove around, it inevitably ended up above his head, fist clenched.

With a *shwoop!* of bright, white light, a javelin formed in his clenched fist. A javelin of pure light, simple and perfectly balanced.

As he unclenched his fist in surprise, the javelin dissipated into nothingness, simply fading away.