Kip
You hear rats in the tombs. The number of people present is causing a fairly big ruckus which makes it difficult to overhear the majoriy of the squeaks but you can tell there are rats in more than one tomb, probably several rats scattered across half the tombs or more. The rats are not the smartest blades in the armory, but you get an idea they are hungry and hoping to find something to eat soon.


Trogdor
You pick a random corner, that being closest to the entrance and the North-Western one to be sure you can see what is happening in the crypt.


Anzor
Your companions are still loathe to be here but follow your orders at your pressing, albeit their sense of alarm and alert is ever pressing at the back of your head now, like a constant whispering of voices.

When you try to detect evil you find a world of dripping red awaiting you and flinch without realizing it: everything runs crimson, scarlet dances in your eyes, and something behind your eyes smarts, feeling like something vicious and tiny has found its way behind the eyes and is gnawing at the spot right between them. The sudden jolt makes you flinch. Your approach is halted but you do not entirely falter.


Malise
Marek shrugs. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you: I certainly don’t,” he mutters before eyeing the pot and rolling his eyes. “Be happy to take anything you can spare. I’m not injured, but…” He trails off and looks first at Trogdor and then at Anzor, especially when the latter flinches. “Well, it's rude to say but your friends look eager to kill me so I’d appreciate any tools or potions you might spare.”

You have a feeling that despite your fumbling social attempt Marek appreciated it still. Maybe you social skills struck a nerve or found a hidden spot?


Tamoq
Being an engineer who knows his things your survey finds a good spot: you sit on the surface of the second tomb on the south side from the fire. you have a good spot to move from it, a good place to run from, it is stable and you can move to a lot of places from it. And there are no openings for whatever lies in the tombs to try to sink its teeth in you, at least not instantly.


Kalleus
Marek gives you a gesture that beckons you to stand closer to the fire as he answers. “Those doors were locked for a reason. I had a copy made by the Mechanist Guild. Thought it a decent trade…”

Marek then claps his hands at the sight of yet another person entering. "Is there an army coming? Should I run before more murderous people? I don't think my...err..." He takes another look in the pot, where anyone can see quasi-solid something frothing about with pieces of something fried bobbing. "Thing, will suffice for more than eight."