Grok Like an Egyptian

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Day 39: Beware of Old Men Who Beg

You'd think that after all the crap splattered around in and under our part of Iaria, a trip to the countryside would be a breath of fresh air. Not that I'm one of those tree-hugging (or, in Garg's case, tree-wielding) losers, but a change of scenery is nice every once in a while.

Which it was, until we ended back in a tunnel underneath a boneyard, up to our loincloths (okay, my loincloth - Fritter was snorkeling in the shit, as usual) in dead stuff.

A little backtracking, I guess. Seems that word of our merry band of miscreants' prowess is spreading, because this wild-eyed human wouldn't take no for an answer when he started beating down our door looking for help with something terrorizing his village, abducting people in the middle of the night, strange fires, horrible screams, you get the idea.

Okay, so I wasn't completely annoyed by the idea. Baldy, Sybs' weapons-not-included lackey didn't even want to get paid for it (I offered to take his share if his honor was so goddamned besmirched. I'm helpful like that).

Let me say this right now - the shambling, soulless undead are really annoying. It's not that they're tough, or even that they smell like Garg's leftovers, it's just that they plod and stare and keep going until they're so much grey-green goo. Except when Sybs puts the fear of her god in 'em, in which case, they hide like a pile of the ugliest shrieking schoolgirls you ever saw.

Pinky's happy, though - one of the sarcophagi had a comb or something girly in it, so she had a little shinygasm over it. Then Fritter had a (much calmer, since he was, once again, nearly fucking killed) shinygasm when we found a magic dagger, though none of us know quite what flavor it is yet. Oh, he wants me to say something about me and Garg also getting nearly-dead, but I'm getting to that. I'm holding on to the dagger for the time being, which means the twitchy little bastard is always about a foot away from my knees, and he isn't getting any stealthier. I'm tempted to pin him to the ceiling with a knife through his cloak and let him dangle like so much fruit so I can get ten minutes' sleep without him trying to pilfer it.

Country orcs are just as pathetic as city orcs. We got the drop on them playing Big Dungeons, Scary Monsters, for crying out loud, and it was just a quick web-and-torch party before we relieved them of those pesky heads and all that heavy gold they'd been dickering with.

But, yeah - weird critters that hang from the ceiling and have really long arms nearly turned Gang Green into dog chow, until Stumpy the Wonder Dwarf became a decent substitute for a projectile weapon. They're right - dwarf-tossing is fun. And then Pinky unloaded a light show that pretty much blew their minds before we chopped 'em up.

Hey, what's that? A room full of chests. Fritter did soil his tunic when he opened one with a ton of gold in it, and I got the one that was a goddamned parlor trick, because it grabbed me. Bastard was sticky; wouldn't let go of my axe, wouldn't let go of my arms, wouldn't let go of Stumpy's sword, and took a hell of a beating before it let go and smelled really, really bad.

Comments

[tirani.livejournal.com]

When I was running the Sunday Night game up here, the party got into the habit of yelling "It's a MIMIC! Kill it!" EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. they came across a chest. And then cavilarly opening chests without actually checking to see if it was a mimic.

Until they actually did run into a mimic. It damn near took down the dwarf and the rogue before they managed to kill it.

They stopped yelling and started being VERY careful around chests after that.

[etcet.livejournal.com]

I do not like sticky things that do not allow me to hit them repeatedly with my big fucking axe. Fortunately, I am robust, mean, and too stubborn to die.

The fight would have been substantially less interesting from a potentially-getting-squeezed-to-death perspective if this asshole (http://www.livejournal.com/userpic/42720061/5898) had actually made contact, instead of just whacking the floor, ceiling, and walls.

[xany.livejournal.com]

wooden box am nimble!

Garg want meet broad-side-of-barn-mimic!

[etcet.livejournal.com]

Not until you grow some more hit points, thud.

[netgoth.livejournal.com]

Wow, someone got up on the wrong side of the wench this morning.

[etcet.livejournal.com]

You have thirty-five HP squeezed out of you by annoyed goo, and see how perky =you= are, Pinky.

I'm a full day's journey from the redhead; I'm cranky, and Fritter keeps humping my leg to get at that damn dagger.

[etcet.livejournal.com]

See? (http://img107.imageshack.us/img107/3366/motivjessica6kw.jpg)

[netgoth.livejournal.com]

Pfft. Next time you'll know better than to just start opening things up, grumpy.

See? (http://roger.carbol.com/1Mhp/images/gazebo.jpg)

[etcet.livejournal.com]

Next chest gets opened with an axe.

Actually, that's pretty much my M.O., anyway.

[xany.livejournal.com]

More on Mimics (http://www.bookofratings.com/dndmonsters2.html).

...also contains the origin of my "Ow! My hit points!!!" line.

[draxzaster.livejournal.com]

Good thing that dumb ass DM forgot that Mimics can crush and still attack at the same time...

[etcet.livejournal.com]

Whooooops.

Hey, could you bring a copy of your ColdFusion install disk next week? The one that came with my book hasn't worked on either PC I've tried installing it to...

[mighty-man.livejournal.com]

I remember playing Ultima IV and noting that if you stood around a mimic long enough in combat (rather than just opening the chest), you'd see the lid of the chest open and a tiny pair of eyes.

That was a signal to fireball it.