"A<em>plan</em>? That's a<em>plan</em>? Godspit, why do<em>I</em>always get teamed up with the crazy ones?" The tiefling points a finger at Adrian. "You. I keep hearin' 'twenty' but the lady said<em>'at least.'</em>In my business we<em>triple</em>what we see. One spotted means<em>two</em>hidin'. Bet on it or learn to gargle your gall bladder. 'Forty?' You ready to deal with<em>sixty</em>?"<br/><br/>Meanwhile, the tiefling's spade-tipped tail is rummaging around in her pack. It extracts a small scruff of tangled thread which she swaps for one of the phials on the bandolier across her chest. "Point one, we are<em>not</em>authorized to go bustin' into places. I like a bit of a scrum as much as the next biggest bitch in the room, but I<em>don't</em>care to have the captain bustin'<em>my</em>butt behind bars or withholdin' or dockin'<em>my</em>pay for rompin' through an alehouse with a company of<em>undead</em>after me...Even a crappy dive like the Fist." She checks the rest of the bandolier carefully, re-adjusting it and running her fingers along it to be sure she can find each of the small vials and knick-knacks on it by feel.<br/><br/>"Point two, we don't<em>know</em>what's behind the door except wights. It might make a short, sharp turn or two or three or four, or they might be off to one side in<em>another</em>room, and then all the spells hucked through the door won't mean a fly's fart in a<em>storm</em>because they'll be going off where the problem<em>isn't</em>. We also don't know if they've got any<em>other</em>ways into this shithole."<br/><br/>"Point three," the tiefling scowls. "We go in, we're on<em>their</em>ground, and if we get cut off from the door, we've got<em>no</em>chance at all. Tell me it<em>couldn't</em>happen and I will laugh in your face. I'm hearin' a<em>lot</em>about spells to slow or stop them and hurt them, but that's all<em>assuming</em>they're where the spell strikes." She wrinkles her nose, "And in case some of you<em>missed</em>it in the middle of the floor show, I do know a<em>bit</em>about magic."<br/><br/>"Now<em>if</em>you're bound and determined to play patty-cake with the neighbors, I say we make a slow, fightin'<em>withdrawal</em>of it. Draw them through the bottleneck of the door, then back up when we can't hold it any longer. That<em>limits</em>how many can come at us at once. We pin down what we can, then back away and finish off whatever gets through...Because sure as the Smiling Lady blinks, some<em>will</em>get through. You don't count on your luck, you bless it when it comes but you<em>don't</em>rely on it."<br/><br/>The tiefling seems reasonably satisfied with how her gear is rearranged. "That way at least we know the ground we're castin' spells into. We know what's<em>behind</em>us. We know where our<em>retreat</em>is. We can see what's comin', slow it down, take it in bite-size chunks<em>instead</em>of maybe trappin' ourselves in a hole with half a hundred hungry undead." She looks back to Wren. "First we check that map, hey? Be sure there<em>isn't</em>a quick crawly way around behind us anywhere nearby that they could use."<br/><br/>Ghaazala's tail lashes and she grins fangily, "Or hey, we could just do the<em>not</em>-so-cob-fuckin' stupid thing , wedge the door with a few stout blades, go tell the Watch and get our pay."