Dope-a-Rope

After the initial disappointment of the distant, hazy tower actually turning out to just be a random thirty-foot-tall rock stack, thrusting upwards from the sand, certain benefits present themselves. Possibly life saving benefits! There's water bubbling from the climbable peak and vegetation growing in the shaded grooved areas along its downward path. 

Also, in the more sheltered, 'shadowy' area beneath and beside it, there are three desiccated bodies. Isolated from each other, approximately twenty feet apart. Dead adventurers perhaps, due to the rusted shields and weapons still lying within reach of their skeletal fingers.

But not all of it is corroded... Something still gleams in the remaining sunlight. Some items amongst the bones and rot still shine and sparkle!

Cautious Henshaw doesn’t like this though. He doesn’t like this at all. Three long dead bodies lying conveniently in their path? Their skeletons still draped in shiny metal with glass, gems and coins sparkling around them in the multiple sunslight? Considering the recent dark magic attacks on Liga Bur and Fortu’s ongoing and obviously disturbing dreams, this feels deeply suspicious.

“OK Barbella, if you want to check out that stuff; fine. There might be something valuable there but just in case it’s a trap, we’ll tether you onto Doberman and he can pull you back if anything happens.”

Everyone stops thirty feet away from the skeletal corpses and the agile Barbella creeps carefully forward...

Closely followed by Doberman.

Barbella stops.

“Whatcha doing Mate?”

Distracted by the forty feet of looped rope dragging in the sand behind and between them, Doberman fails to notice the suddenly immobile Barbella in time and bumps clumsily into the back of him.

“… I’m coming wiv you.”

Barbella looks over the head of his short-attention-spanned teammate and toward the doubled-over-laughing sight of the blond thatched Henshaw.

“And how the Hell do you fink you’re going to pull the forty-feet of rope back if'n you’re standing right beside me?!”

Doberman’s spongy dough-like face goes blank for a moment as he considers Barbella’s question.

“Urr… I’ll kill whatever kills you… and THEN pull you to safety!”