"Perhaps", says a newcomer to the smoky fire, his arrival heralded by a waft of foul air, "you could use my dice".
He squats before the flames, a shambling mound of matted furs, leather straps and what appears to be smearings of animal dung that conceals the entirity of his flesh but cannot keep in check a fetid body odour that oozes from holes when he moves. Rumour around the camp is that this stinking mass is Urtzil the Fetid, shaman of the northern tribes. Some say he likes to eat the raw brains of little children on moon-days. Others, that he lies with goats whenever he gets the chance.
He scatters a handful of crude die on the ground marked with odd glyphs, including at least one skull, a hand, and several phalli, and hisses when the die come up in a mismatch of symbols.
Pulling a bent stick from his 'robes' - upon which is impailed a mummified cat - he waves this at the die, one of which flips to a different symbol, and is rewarded by a grunt from the deep recesses of fur.
He spits on the die then, and stirs the lot together with a handful of ash fromt he fire.
"So?" he croaks, "any takers?"
the Mender (MV 12", AC 7/7, HD 1, hp 5/5, FC Man, N) leather, sword+dagger[/f]
[f=4]Statue of Zax
the Gnome Fighter (MV 5", AC 2/4, HD 1+2, hp --/6, FC Man+1, N) plate+sh+helm, pickax[/f]