D&D4E: Ding!

After last week's epic battle against an Indiana Jones-style boulder trap and various drakes and kobold lords, what could possibly await us in the cavern below the tower ruins, from whence came the acrid stink of dragonbreath and fear?
Could it be……?
We sent Wenner, the halfling thief, to check it out. He crept around turn after turn, beckoning the rest of us after him. We cautiously followed. At the entrance to a room we could not see the end of, Wenner went bouncing through like a maniac, alerting everything inside to our presence.
Frickin' dice rolls.
A whispery voice asked, "Is that you, —?"
Bryn cast a light spell that lit the darkness. From it strode a dragonborn, clad in scale armor and looking awfully familiar. "Ralph? Big brother? Is that you?"
"…. TIPA?" he roared.
Actually, no. We didn't know each other. But we all look alike, right?
I tried reasoning with him while readying my halberd. "We killed all your friends –"
"Except the one you healed!" snickered Wenner.
"Well, yes, except that one. Nonetheless, I've no desire to slay a countryman, even one who follows Tiamat's lies. Leave us your armor, weapons, loot and experience points, and you can keep your life."
"Riiiiiiight," said Ralph, as Sheeoil socked him with a spell and Wenner made the air deadly with shuriken. Ralph pulled out his long sword, leaped over the slime pit, and stabbed me.
I choked him with acid and swung at him with the halberd. We all burned action points to keep Ralph off balance; Sheeoil and Wenner got him back in the slime pit and kept him struggling while Bryn sent fiery magic missiles at him.
Then he stood up and killed me. I made a save against death; Sheeoil brought me back to consciousness. I staggered to my feet and poked Ralph with the halberd while death whirred toward the dragonborn from all directions — and that was that, the beast was dead.
Mom is going to be SO PISSED.
I worried myself about the name Ralph called to the darkness. Would we be facing a second enemy from behind? I used my remaining healing surges to bring myself back to health while the others converged on a chest in the corner.
Finally satisfied that there would be no more fighting here, I joined the others in looking for likely loot. Wenner looked sneakily suspicious about something. Why is it we always let the THIEVES open the chests first?
Oddly, Ralph had stored absolutely nothing in that chest. How unusual.

Well, except for this bit of dragonhide. And a strangely light sword. And some gold pieces. And 250 experience points.
OMG DING. Level 2!
We returned to town and sought out the liege lord, the one with the glowing question mark hovering over his head. He gave us our reward for the kobold ears Wenner had collected, gave us the name of a merchant who could help reveal to us the secrets behind the orb Wenner had forgotten to tell us about, my sword, and Bryn's dragonhead staff.
There was another task he had for us, one dealing with the arcane art of Cartography and a newly-discovered ruin. A new ruin. Just ruined last week.
But first — to the magic merchant!
My sword — a Longsword +1 Lifedrinker. If I crit, my target gets a 1d6 lingering necrotic effect. If I get the killing blow, I get some temporary hit points. The orb was a focusing orb of some sort, and I forget what the staff did.
Minor increases in power for all except Sheeoil, who will have to wait until next week to ding, as he missed a night's adventuring.
—
Sorry for no D&D update last week. I was on Benadryl and largely out of it.