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Aphonion: Journals of a Licensed Diabolist (Sat. and Wed. updates, last 9/3, 9/10)
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<blockquote data-quote="Cerebral Paladin" data-source="post: 3562520" data-attributes="member: 3448"><p>Several more days passed without event. Towards the middle of the ninth day, my horse bolted from the rear of the group as a pack of skeletal wolves attacked us. The battle was long and fierce, less because they threatened us badly, although a few of us had close calls, but because they viewed the pack horse pulling the cart as a juicy morsel. If they had succeeded in killing it, or even hamstringing it beyond our ability to heal, we would face the unenviable prospect of being stranded far behind enemy lines with a phenomenally valuable asset that we could not move without the wagon. Even if we could still move the cart, we would have been slowed, perhaps fatally, and abandoning the matrix would not have born considering. Finally, we triumphed over the last wolf. The horses were injured, but we were able to heal them and continue on. [Several additional players rejoined us during this encounter, including the players of Twang, Buzz, and Spring. At some point, Stiggus may have needed to leave early, but my notes aren’t clear. This was also the point where Twang had a telepathic conversation with Snaggletooth, his quasit, that led up to him sending it away. While the quasit was a tremendously useful familiar, Twang decided that the risk that his companions would kill him if they knew about the small demon was too great.]</p><p></p><p>That night, an emaciated prairie dog began approaching our camp. Lady Gerda smiled at the forlorn creature, and suggested that it might make a pet for Quickstep, the young boy we carried in the wagon with the matrix. It was a clever thought, and might have drawn Quickstep towards those of us who sought to convert him to the true Faith, because Lady Gerda is loyal to the Lord of Darkness. But we failed to plan around the kobold: when he saw the dog approaching our camp, Twang’s eyes lit up, and he quickly dispatched the poor beast with a <em>magic missile</em>. He did not even use our small fire, but ran forward and began chewing on its still warm body raw. Despite his small size, Twang completely devoured the dog, while the rest of us looked on in distaste and horror.</p><p></p><p>We continued on through the dusty, desolate land that had once been our home. On the morning of the eleventh day of our return trip, we passed near some of the Shadow’s major fortifications. To our delight, a tall column of smoke climbed into the sky from the fortress. The bronze had clearly put our clingfire to good use, although we did not investigate more closely to see how badly it had damaged the fortress.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Cerebral Paladin, post: 3562520, member: 3448"] Several more days passed without event. Towards the middle of the ninth day, my horse bolted from the rear of the group as a pack of skeletal wolves attacked us. The battle was long and fierce, less because they threatened us badly, although a few of us had close calls, but because they viewed the pack horse pulling the cart as a juicy morsel. If they had succeeded in killing it, or even hamstringing it beyond our ability to heal, we would face the unenviable prospect of being stranded far behind enemy lines with a phenomenally valuable asset that we could not move without the wagon. Even if we could still move the cart, we would have been slowed, perhaps fatally, and abandoning the matrix would not have born considering. Finally, we triumphed over the last wolf. The horses were injured, but we were able to heal them and continue on. [Several additional players rejoined us during this encounter, including the players of Twang, Buzz, and Spring. At some point, Stiggus may have needed to leave early, but my notes aren’t clear. This was also the point where Twang had a telepathic conversation with Snaggletooth, his quasit, that led up to him sending it away. While the quasit was a tremendously useful familiar, Twang decided that the risk that his companions would kill him if they knew about the small demon was too great.] That night, an emaciated prairie dog began approaching our camp. Lady Gerda smiled at the forlorn creature, and suggested that it might make a pet for Quickstep, the young boy we carried in the wagon with the matrix. It was a clever thought, and might have drawn Quickstep towards those of us who sought to convert him to the true Faith, because Lady Gerda is loyal to the Lord of Darkness. But we failed to plan around the kobold: when he saw the dog approaching our camp, Twang’s eyes lit up, and he quickly dispatched the poor beast with a [i]magic missile[/i]. He did not even use our small fire, but ran forward and began chewing on its still warm body raw. Despite his small size, Twang completely devoured the dog, while the rest of us looked on in distaste and horror. We continued on through the dusty, desolate land that had once been our home. On the morning of the eleventh day of our return trip, we passed near some of the Shadow’s major fortifications. To our delight, a tall column of smoke climbed into the sky from the fortress. The bronze had clearly put our clingfire to good use, although we did not investigate more closely to see how badly it had damaged the fortress. [/QUOTE]
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