2006-03-27 10:14![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
digitaldiscipline
digitaldisciplineDay Nine: Big Green Motherfucker, Ahoy!
Okay, so Iaria's (fine, thanks for asking) head honcho was less than impressed that we'd persuaded Codfish or Starkist or whatever the hell his name was to piss off. Whatever, bub. The Wizard needed a hand with the cleanup of the new casa [wimp couldn't even move the kitchen table himself], and Dumpy the Dwarf wanted to take a break from the Fighter's Guild, so he went on maid detail.
Looks like we have a few neighbors of the "small and skittish" variety, and I'm not just talking about Pinky's rat's cohorts. I like their idea of feng shui - no door, burn the furniture for cooking - and we tossed 'em some coin and grub to put 'em at ease. Seemed like everybody was edgier than usual (what? I took a bath finally. I had to wash three kinds of dead asshole off my axe). We finally tracked down the place where the source of the freaky vibes had ended up, and Pinky showed off her new parlor trick and made all kinds of noises come from the house... followed by my favorite, goblins running for their lives.
With a whick-whack here, and a whick-whack there, it was a smite-y good time. I should also mention that Pinky has a mouth on her when she doesn't get her way. And we need to make sure that Drunken Master doesn't fight sober anymore; he's a lot better hung-over. Even Sybs skewered one (on the run, no less!). I was hoping we could track it to where the're coming from, but, hey - it's hard to run with an arrow through your windpipe.
And then we went inside, and this big green motherfucker in chains was crushing one of them with his bare hands. Whoah.
He seemed disoriented (and not too bright), but he had a nice collection of fetishes, so we had a nice bonding moment while I collected heads.
Speaking of, some elven asshole webbed me and the big guy (either his name's Garg, or he burped when they asked) and set me on fire before I relieved him of that pesky head he'd been carrying around. I've gotta say, burn scars in a pattern like this do look kind of bitchin'. They'll do for a start. At least the bastard was loaded... and taught that cowardly sack of rags the rogue a lesson with a lovely little dart trap.
So, now we've got the big guy with us, eating a raw duck from Stefan Elefan (so the guards are even more nervous when we walk by), and ten more heads to kick in for chits.
At least he wanted to sleep in the stable. He looks like the kind of guy who snores. I hate that.
Okay, so Iaria's (fine, thanks for asking) head honcho was less than impressed that we'd persuaded Codfish or Starkist or whatever the hell his name was to piss off. Whatever, bub. The Wizard needed a hand with the cleanup of the new casa [wimp couldn't even move the kitchen table himself], and Dumpy the Dwarf wanted to take a break from the Fighter's Guild, so he went on maid detail.
Looks like we have a few neighbors of the "small and skittish" variety, and I'm not just talking about Pinky's rat's cohorts. I like their idea of feng shui - no door, burn the furniture for cooking - and we tossed 'em some coin and grub to put 'em at ease. Seemed like everybody was edgier than usual (what? I took a bath finally. I had to wash three kinds of dead asshole off my axe). We finally tracked down the place where the source of the freaky vibes had ended up, and Pinky showed off her new parlor trick and made all kinds of noises come from the house... followed by my favorite, goblins running for their lives.
With a whick-whack here, and a whick-whack there, it was a smite-y good time. I should also mention that Pinky has a mouth on her when she doesn't get her way. And we need to make sure that Drunken Master doesn't fight sober anymore; he's a lot better hung-over. Even Sybs skewered one (on the run, no less!). I was hoping we could track it to where the're coming from, but, hey - it's hard to run with an arrow through your windpipe.
And then we went inside, and this big green motherfucker in chains was crushing one of them with his bare hands. Whoah.
He seemed disoriented (and not too bright), but he had a nice collection of fetishes, so we had a nice bonding moment while I collected heads.
Speaking of, some elven asshole webbed me and the big guy (either his name's Garg, or he burped when they asked) and set me on fire before I relieved him of that pesky head he'd been carrying around. I've gotta say, burn scars in a pattern like this do look kind of bitchin'. They'll do for a start. At least the bastard was loaded... and taught that cowardly sack of rags the rogue a lesson with a lovely little dart trap.
So, now we've got the big guy with us, eating a raw duck from Stefan Elefan (so the guards are even more nervous when we walk by), and ten more heads to kick in for chits.
At least he wanted to sleep in the stable. He looks like the kind of guy who snores. I hate that.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
What game system are you guys playing?
(no subject)