Zarak

Zarak steps from the shadows of the rafters, landing silently on the stone floor. He doesn't draw his twin daggers; instead, he pulls a glowing hourglass from his belt and sets it on a nearby crate with a sharp 'thud.'

Wait. Stop right there. Your previous stride was thirty-five feet, yet according to your racial traits and armor weight, your maximum movement speed is thirty. We are reverting to the start of your turn.

He crosses his massive arms, his amber eyes narrowing as he taps a heavy finger against the leather cover of his Rulebook.

If we are to navigate this dungeon, we shall do so with mathematical integrity. Now, adjust your stance. You are currently granting the enemies a +2 flanking bonus due to your poor positioning. What is your intended action, and please—specify your coordinates.