Devlin Loretower

The jack-of-all-trades scratches the back of his head, searching for a response to Portia's recitation. Luckily, the others cut in and express their disdain at the violent erotica before Devlin can even think of the words to say.

"Well, sure, even all chivalry aside," he says, "I'd prefer to take the first look; I tend to be pretty good with traps." He looks to the others, wanting to make sure that they don't take offense to his words, and sheepishly adds, "Not that you aren't or anything..."

He listens intently to Cedric's description of a traveler's rest and nods his assent. "Sounds about right--my most recent estimations place us about a half-day from the nearest town. I'd be happy to check the dwelling, but I can't help but feel bad...are you sure we're not just invading the home of some unfortunate introvert?"

The illumian makes his way into the home, but he is almost barrelled over by the goatman. "It all depends on the trap, friend," he chides. "A ten-foot pit trap may only be enough to sprain your hoof, but fall into one alone and you'll realize something: being unable to climb out for days and starving to death? That can smart a bit. Just imagine running out of lamb shanks..." Devlin pauses for a moment to ponder why a goatman enjoys lambshanks so much, but decides to focus on his search of the hut instead of his questions surrounding the borderline cannibalism.

Spoiler
Show
Search - (1d20+10)[28]
Disable Device - (1d20+13)[18] (boosted by Cunning Knowledge) if any traps are found
Spot - (1d20-4)[-1]
Listen - (1d20-4)[9]