I came up with this some time ago for use in an adventure I was going to run for my group by basing a deadly little dungeon around it. Sadly I have never gotten a chance to use this so I figured I might share it here. Maybe it will inspire someone. I took the old poem "10 Little Indians" and adapted it for use in a fantasy game. I decided to go with dwarves as the base reference. So now give you Ten Stout Dwarves.
Ten stout dwarves went into the mine,
One went in the well and then there were nine.
Nine stout dwarves needed dragon’s bait,
One stepped forward then there were eight.
Eight stout dwarves readied dough and leaven,
One fell into the oven and then there were seven.
Seven stout dwarves armed with axes and picks,
One cut down his brother and then there were six.
Six stout dwarves still managed to survive,
One broke the seal and then there were five.
Five stout dwarves broke down the door,
One stepped across and then there were four.
Four stout dwarves still had mastery to see,
One dowsed the torch and then there were three.
Three stout dwarves offered the Keeper its due,
One stole back his coin and then there were two.
Two stout dwarves left only to run,
One falls down and then there was one.
One stout dwarf hunts the fading sun,
He found the warrior’s peace and then there were none.