Wednesday, November 4, 2009

What is good in life, Conan?

Nothing momentous to report. Just another Tuesday night around here: Me and some good buds enjoyed some single-malt scotch and some good buds. The party dickered over terms with some hirelings, then made an expedition to Castle Greyhawk, only to run into a hobgoblin and his goblin cronies - the same group that they'd only a few sessions earlier routed with judicious application of murder holes and flaming oil. It was a near thing, with the party pulling out a win but with the thief injured and the rest near "E" on healing and hp, but the haul was just worth it. The hired spearman ate it, while the torchboy ran away. They returned to the city, blew a week while the thief rested up (two members were offered positions in the military, another Gilliganed his way into a possible knightly appointment, and the thief picked up a nagging chest cold that will slow him down for a few weeks)*, then wandered the streets (passing by a Pelorite pilgrimage being harassed by street urchins)* hocking their ill-begotten gains and recruiting for the next adventure.

Man, D&D fucking rules.


* Random city events courtesy of Midkemia Press's fine "Cities" book - now re-available from Midkemia's website here: LINKY)

-DYA

2 comments:

  1.       Did you DM high? I can't imagine going through notes and answering questions while stoned, let alone present any sort of description or story.

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  2. Yeah, we get a little fuzzy at games. Doesn't bother me any; I can roll with the punches. (I have a somewhat Herculean tolerance to pot, so that helps, too.) It just cranks the Erol Otus / Ralph Bakshi factor way up. LOL

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