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ima warrior and i slice te first guys head off the next guy i use my very biggest strength and i cut him in half the last guy i KO with my shield and then run up to the next storie of the building



THIS IS SPARTA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok so i'm a Dark Jedi i enter the tower, i see the orcs and i use force push to push them off the first floor and they die (don't underestemate the power of the dark side)and i use force jump to go to the 15 floor.
How many floors are there?

Wizard-walk in and zap them all with lightning Then teleport to the top

I am a dwarven grunt trained in the art of Taz-Nar-Je, that is, great-axe wielding.

Clanging into cold metal the heavy oak and iron doors of the black steel tower open at my approach. Someone was expecting me. I rush in quickly before the bitter snap of Winter can dampen my fighting ardour to take the tower. The doors crash shut behind me, leaving the gaping maw of darkness to engulf the world. A dim light flickers on in the far back of the room, then another, and the whole room is surrounded by the flickering glow of torches. I see no one. I step forward into the grey stone ring, the heart of the tower. Out of the walls emerge three figures, they come as whispers of the metal itself melting out of the wall and making not a sound as thy too enter the ring. As one, they pull the razor edges from their belts, appearing as the grey eyed stars do, rising at first night.
I breathe deeply. They move forward in a unison pull from a puppeteers hand. The axe, it swishes, a wave, a dagger steadfast, the foundering upon the rock. Back around with blunt, a delightful laugh, a silly crunch, as the left's kneecap takes a punch. I leap, back, away, their blows shall not touch. Forward and down, and the axe squeals in delight, and the dropped orc squeals for mercy. Too late.
One down, two resolve to do what the weaker couldn't, but alas too slow, my axe, it hums in the air, oh what fun it is to drink the ruby liquor of the middle orcs flesh. And again for a sip, it is too slow to block. Silly orc. Down the axe goes, to take the last flagon of drink from the green beastie's body.
Two down, fear betrays fear. The last cares not to frolic with the glee of my axe. He drops the life saving gem, the black onyx of death, to raise his hands above his head, to leave our party. But oh, progress cannot be made with him standing, and no guest can just rudely leave- So, he sings his last joyful song as the glimmering axe meets his vocal chords for the chorus.
The torches look down on the seen their dim light reflecting their dim attitude. They whisper out, leaving me in the solemn darkness. I walk to the crisp stone stairs barely breathing the chill air. I take the first step up the lonely tower.

I'm a dwarf.


I axe a tree, and climb it, omitting the first two floors of the tower.