We gathered our old 1st Edition group (on hiatus), broke out BASIC D&D, and rolled up a group to take on the Caves of Chaos.
Adventuring forth bravely were:
Fred the Unassuming (Thief)
JoJo the Last (Dwarf of a long line. Too long in fact. Also the Resilient, and the Trap-finder.)
Frego the Plebian and Tim the Adequate (Magic-users)
Valar the Communicable (Priest of Jeff, God of Biscuits)
and Tor The (Yes, his title was "The" because that was about the only other word he could spell with that Int. Also a Priest of Jeff, God of Biscuits)
After a fabulous foray against Kobolds (wherein Tor took a max damage arrow through the eyeslit of his plate mail), the party freed Beltherion Westerios (Who introduced himself thusly, "I am an elf. I'm a fruity art fop. My feces do not stink. And I'm better than you.) Whereupon they killed the rest of the kobolds and then holed up locked in the chief's quarters.
Then investigated the snuffling sound where the local owlbear was eating the 40 odd piled kobold bodies. Until it smelled fresh elf.
The party stabbed it to death while it was stuck in the doorway, but not before Valar the Communicable (Oy! My kvetching! It does nothing!) died a horribly grisly death. And then had a 1200 lb owlbear fall on his dead plate mail clad body like a 150 lb dog dropped on a defective soda can.
Laden with more wealth then they had likely ever seen (thanks to the 1200 gp necklace on the kobold chief), they left, and without clerics, tithed none of it, and retired.
Then we tossed a die in honor of the man who allowed us to laugh, almost non-stop, for 7 hours while we mangled each other in humanoid infested caves.