It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The party awakens to a clean-shaven Caleb. They descend into the first chamber.
DM: That's a natural one. You lucky son of a bitch! Through whatever grace your patron has granted upon you--
Player: I'm in the water, man.
DM: The merrow are too distracted with whatever they are in the process of doing to notice you slip and hit an elbow, send a pebble falling. You get low and finish tying it off. They don't notice.
Player: Okay, great. I'll give it a gentle tug. Does it seem like the structure moves at all?
DM: No. It seems pretty solid.
Player: I'll take a deep breath and I'll use it to pull myself chest up towards the surface.
DM: Easy enough. So after a few moments, Fjord emerges back where you guys are waiting.
