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The Lost Boys vs The Sunless Citadel
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 4123490" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p>Next Turn 8.6: From bad to verse.</p><p></p><p>“I’ve got it…” Grand Alf screams dragging himself from the clutches of the rampant grass, “No… No… Ahhh, I said Ahhhh. No.” Alas his escape is all too temporary, it seems the grasping vegetation is winning the battle, the grass is too strong for the puny Sorcerer.</p><p></p><p>“MEDIC?” Saradomin screams again and then notices the Holy Symbol of St. Cuthbert hanging around his neck, “Ah yes, got it.”</p><p></p><p>Saradomin heals himself all over, his glowing hands knitting together the horrendous wound received from the Supplicant Paladin.</p><p></p><p>“That’s more like it… now where were we?” The Priest is back on his feet, he looks behind him to spy the capering Outcast, then looks back at his previous attacker.</p><p></p><p>“BERTTTTTT.”</p><p></p><p>Just in time to see Jerky take a longsword chop to the throat, the Gnome staggers backwards and then collapses, a fountain of blood spurting into the air, pooling to soak into the dirt surrounding his body, the Gnome clutches at his ragged wound and in a hoarse whisper delivers his last words.</p><p></p><p>“It was my cheese. Mine. I never stole it. Sorry Mum.”</p><p></p><p>Aleso turns just in time to see the Gnome’s fall- the two Holy men share a look, and ignoring the Outcast rush to attack Sir Bradford.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Blue">DMs Interlude, and the big rolls are deserting them, at last it seems I will have my revenge.</span></p><p></p><p>Meanwhile Dartamor dances a little more, badly it must be added, his feet are leaden weights, as are his arms- the poisonous sap of the Twig Blights has nearly overwhelmed him, every movement, every dodge, feint and thrust a heroic effort.</p><p></p><p>One of the three Twig Blights has been cut down, although it’s taken nearly half-a-dozen attacks to lay even one of the plant fiends low- it seems a rapier is not the best weapon to be using against the creatures.</p><p></p><p>“Grand Alf?”</p><p></p><p>Dartamor screams, the Sorcerer flounders, not waving but drowning beneath a grey-green grassy tide. </p><p></p><p>“SARADOMIN?”</p><p></p><p>Dartamor screams again, searching for respite.</p><p></p><p>The Priest of St. Cuthbert doesn’t hear him; it’s all he can do to keep Sir Bradford from cutting his head off. Aleso seems to be similarly engaged in not getting cut to ribbons; although both of them have taken minor cuts.</p><p></p><p>“Bernard.” Saradomin screams, not looking.</p><p>“Marthta.”</p><p></p><p>At last Dartamor thinks, help is on the way.</p><p></p><p>“Bernard- destroy the Outcast.”</p><p></p><p>Bernard, or rather what’s left of the Zombie Bugbear stumbles forward to ravage the Outcast.</p><p></p><p>“WHAT. WHAT ABOUT ME?” Dartamor screams.</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf seems to have got his hands free; he’s casting, arcane words of power- “BIFFBANGPOW”</p><p></p><p>A dot of force wends its way towards one of the Twig Blight attackers, Dartamor breathes a sigh of relief, then the force dart dodges hard right and slams into the side of Sir Bradford.</p><p></p><p>“I SAID WHAT ABOUT ME- HELP ME…”</p><p></p><p>Dartamor is beginning to lose his rag, and for his efforts takes another slashing, raking claw wound- his strength is almost spent.</p><p></p><p>Right then, if you want a job doing- you’ve gotta do it yourself, Dartamor thinks, and summons the last of his reserve, a tirade of cuts, thrusts and stabs, and seconds later the penultimate Twig Blight is no more.</p><p></p><p>Dartamor allows himself a smile.</p><p></p><p>And at the exact same moment is cut down, strength gone, all used up.</p><p></p><p>The Half-Elf falls backwards, a dead drop, the half-grin still etched on his face.</p><p></p><p>Aleso catches the last act out of the corner of his eye, continues to parry and thrust desperately at Sir Bradford, while out of the side of his mouth, “The Bents have got Dartamor.”</p><p>“Bents?” Saradomin parrots back confused.</p><p>“Baby Ents.”</p><p>“Foolish, should have known.”</p><p></p><p>Behind them a strange gurgling voice starts up.</p><p></p><p>“Kick it!”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf break-dances furiously, for a second or two, here comes the verse.</p><p></p><p>”You wake up late for the adventure man you don't wanna go</p><p>You ask Saradomin, "Please?" but he still says, "No!"</p><p>You missed two Goblins and no Bugbear</p><p>But Aleso and Saradomin preach like you're some kind of jerk.”</p><p></p><p>The break dancing starts up again- he seems to making headway against the clutching grass.</p><p></p><p>”You gotta fight </p><p>for your right </p><p>to party”</p><p></p><p>The action’s soon over, next verse.</p><p></p><p>”Aleso caught you Fireballing and he said, "No way!"</p><p>That hypocrite slays two Trolls a day</p><p>Man, adventuring is such a drag</p><p>Now Saradomin threw away your best Magic Smash Busted!”</p><p></p><p>Break dancing again, he’s almost free.</p><p></p><p>”You gotta fight </p><p>for your right </p><p>to party.”</p><p></p><p>The final verse.</p><p></p><p>”Don't step out of this house if that's the clothes you're gonna wear</p><p>I'll kick you out of my home if you don't cut that hair</p><p>Jerky busted in and said, "What's that noise?"</p><p>Aw, you're just jealous it's the Lost Boys!”</p><p></p><p>And he’s free, and on his feet- Grand Alf charges, spadeinator clutched in hand- straight for Sir Bradford.</p><p></p><p>”You gotta fight </p><p>for your right </p><p>to party.”</p><p></p><p>He shrieks again and again.</p><p></p><p>The Sorcerer barges his way between the two Holy men and is on the wayward Paladin.</p><p></p><p>Next Turn: Bernard bye-bye.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 4123490, member: 16069"] Next Turn 8.6: From bad to verse. “I’ve got it…” Grand Alf screams dragging himself from the clutches of the rampant grass, “No… No… Ahhh, I said Ahhhh. No.” Alas his escape is all too temporary, it seems the grasping vegetation is winning the battle, the grass is too strong for the puny Sorcerer. “MEDIC?” Saradomin screams again and then notices the Holy Symbol of St. Cuthbert hanging around his neck, “Ah yes, got it.” Saradomin heals himself all over, his glowing hands knitting together the horrendous wound received from the Supplicant Paladin. “That’s more like it… now where were we?” The Priest is back on his feet, he looks behind him to spy the capering Outcast, then looks back at his previous attacker. “BERTTTTTT.” Just in time to see Jerky take a longsword chop to the throat, the Gnome staggers backwards and then collapses, a fountain of blood spurting into the air, pooling to soak into the dirt surrounding his body, the Gnome clutches at his ragged wound and in a hoarse whisper delivers his last words. “It was my cheese. Mine. I never stole it. Sorry Mum.” Aleso turns just in time to see the Gnome’s fall- the two Holy men share a look, and ignoring the Outcast rush to attack Sir Bradford. [COLOR=Blue]DMs Interlude, and the big rolls are deserting them, at last it seems I will have my revenge.[/COLOR] Meanwhile Dartamor dances a little more, badly it must be added, his feet are leaden weights, as are his arms- the poisonous sap of the Twig Blights has nearly overwhelmed him, every movement, every dodge, feint and thrust a heroic effort. One of the three Twig Blights has been cut down, although it’s taken nearly half-a-dozen attacks to lay even one of the plant fiends low- it seems a rapier is not the best weapon to be using against the creatures. “Grand Alf?” Dartamor screams, the Sorcerer flounders, not waving but drowning beneath a grey-green grassy tide. “SARADOMIN?” Dartamor screams again, searching for respite. The Priest of St. Cuthbert doesn’t hear him; it’s all he can do to keep Sir Bradford from cutting his head off. Aleso seems to be similarly engaged in not getting cut to ribbons; although both of them have taken minor cuts. “Bernard.” Saradomin screams, not looking. “Marthta.” At last Dartamor thinks, help is on the way. “Bernard- destroy the Outcast.” Bernard, or rather what’s left of the Zombie Bugbear stumbles forward to ravage the Outcast. “WHAT. WHAT ABOUT ME?” Dartamor screams. Grand Alf seems to have got his hands free; he’s casting, arcane words of power- “BIFFBANGPOW” A dot of force wends its way towards one of the Twig Blight attackers, Dartamor breathes a sigh of relief, then the force dart dodges hard right and slams into the side of Sir Bradford. “I SAID WHAT ABOUT ME- HELP ME…” Dartamor is beginning to lose his rag, and for his efforts takes another slashing, raking claw wound- his strength is almost spent. Right then, if you want a job doing- you’ve gotta do it yourself, Dartamor thinks, and summons the last of his reserve, a tirade of cuts, thrusts and stabs, and seconds later the penultimate Twig Blight is no more. Dartamor allows himself a smile. And at the exact same moment is cut down, strength gone, all used up. The Half-Elf falls backwards, a dead drop, the half-grin still etched on his face. Aleso catches the last act out of the corner of his eye, continues to parry and thrust desperately at Sir Bradford, while out of the side of his mouth, “The Bents have got Dartamor.” “Bents?” Saradomin parrots back confused. “Baby Ents.” “Foolish, should have known.” Behind them a strange gurgling voice starts up. “Kick it!” Grand Alf break-dances furiously, for a second or two, here comes the verse. ”You wake up late for the adventure man you don't wanna go You ask Saradomin, "Please?" but he still says, "No!" You missed two Goblins and no Bugbear But Aleso and Saradomin preach like you're some kind of jerk.” The break dancing starts up again- he seems to making headway against the clutching grass. ”You gotta fight for your right to party” The action’s soon over, next verse. ”Aleso caught you Fireballing and he said, "No way!" That hypocrite slays two Trolls a day Man, adventuring is such a drag Now Saradomin threw away your best Magic Smash Busted!” Break dancing again, he’s almost free. ”You gotta fight for your right to party.” The final verse. ”Don't step out of this house if that's the clothes you're gonna wear I'll kick you out of my home if you don't cut that hair Jerky busted in and said, "What's that noise?" Aw, you're just jealous it's the Lost Boys!” And he’s free, and on his feet- Grand Alf charges, spadeinator clutched in hand- straight for Sir Bradford. ”You gotta fight for your right to party.” He shrieks again and again. The Sorcerer barges his way between the two Holy men and is on the wayward Paladin. Next Turn: Bernard bye-bye. [/QUOTE]
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