psychognome
First Post
This must be the best Story Hour since Posy's Diary! Keep it up! 
Forrester's Against the Elves Campaign
- Thread starter Morrow
- Start date
Event Four: Trying to Sleep
After trudging through the Hellmouth on the way to Freetown, the party picked a random stretch of tunnel and bedded down for the night. They split into three watches: Atarax and Kriggle, Krikara and Plikt, and Foleful and Mighty Steed (Kriggle’s giant lizard mount). Each watch was to be four hours long, so all the spellcasters (that’s Kriggle, Atarax, and Foleful) will be refreshed.
Alas, it was not to be, for no sooner did Krikara, Plikt, and Foleful bed down in a shallow alcove than Atarax heard voices. Voices speaking in Giant. Voices speculating about the grinding of goblin-bones to make bread. Understandably concerned, he peered down the tunnel behind them, looking out to the limits of his 60’ darkvision.
“Boarclopses!” he cried as they trundled into view, two ten-foot-tall green potbellied giant orc-monsters with but a single eye apiece. They were nearly naked, clad only in filthy rags. They bore massive spears and slightly smaller satchels, and they were definitely unfriendly.
Kriggle mounted Mighty Steed and readied his puny lance, while Atarax shook Krikara and Plikt. Foleful rolled over in his blanket. Atarax then shouted a slew of nonsense at the boarclopses, but his attempt to confuse them was for naught (damn that chain shirt and its 10% spell failure chance and the chafing!).
The battle was joined as Kriggle charged on Mighty Steed, slamming into one of the monsters. It bellowed with pain and stabbed at Kriggle, who laughed off its foolish attempts to penetrate his mighty kobold plate armor. Foleful finally woke up, as Krikara crept darkly up the tunnel walls, seeking a clear shot with her deadly little bow. Plikt, too, fired a volley into the boarclopses, with little visible effect.
To sum up, the party ground the boarclopses up like meat in a grinder, with Kriggle in front soaking up blows, and the rest of the group hanging back, pelting the monsters with spells and arrows. One of the monsters was taken alive (stabilized at -9 or so) and Atarax demanded he be taken prisoner. Atarax dreamed of charming him into fighting for the party. The other boarclops was dismembered, and the party settled back into camp.
Krikara searched the boarclops bodies, and found that in addition to filth, the prisoner had a sack full of shiny rocks. She accepted responsibility for the shiny rocks (which included a few uncut gems) -- after Atarax charmed the prisoner, they could make a big deal out of how the other boarclops had robbed the prisoner, and the prisoner's new and dear friends were returning his shiny rock collection to him (minus a few unaccountably missing rocks, no doubt squandered by that other boarclops...). She and Plikt then settled into watch, kicking the prisoner.
Except a couple of hours later three more boarclops came charging down the corridor, looking angry. Everyone was still awake, though Foleful was lying down with his eyes closed. Again, the monsters were heard before they were seen, and Atarax identified their bellows.
This time Foleful was conscious. Quickly, the xvart summoner laid down a web in the direct path of the creatures, allowing the rest of the party time to ready their bows and weapons. As the boarclops burst through the web, they ran directly into the glue Foleful had placed in front of it. And then Foleful hit them with a stinking cloud. Not happy, these boarclopses. They bellowed in rage, for these were boarclopses with class levels, and broke through the glue, charging Kriggle and the water elemental dire wolf Foleful summoned. Aided again by missile fire and the encouraging, lilting tune Atarax sung (an epic about a goblinoid tribe’s slaughter of a purple worm, in which slaughter Atarax and Thar had participated) Kriggle and the summoned monster put the boarclopses down.
Roughly nine hours later, the party stepped over the pieces of boarclops and continued on their way. The boarclops prisoner, Guk, was not charmed by Atarax's honeyed tongue, and so the party killed it. Krikara kept the rock collection.
After trudging through the Hellmouth on the way to Freetown, the party picked a random stretch of tunnel and bedded down for the night. They split into three watches: Atarax and Kriggle, Krikara and Plikt, and Foleful and Mighty Steed (Kriggle’s giant lizard mount). Each watch was to be four hours long, so all the spellcasters (that’s Kriggle, Atarax, and Foleful) will be refreshed.
Alas, it was not to be, for no sooner did Krikara, Plikt, and Foleful bed down in a shallow alcove than Atarax heard voices. Voices speaking in Giant. Voices speculating about the grinding of goblin-bones to make bread. Understandably concerned, he peered down the tunnel behind them, looking out to the limits of his 60’ darkvision.
“Boarclopses!” he cried as they trundled into view, two ten-foot-tall green potbellied giant orc-monsters with but a single eye apiece. They were nearly naked, clad only in filthy rags. They bore massive spears and slightly smaller satchels, and they were definitely unfriendly.
Kriggle mounted Mighty Steed and readied his puny lance, while Atarax shook Krikara and Plikt. Foleful rolled over in his blanket. Atarax then shouted a slew of nonsense at the boarclopses, but his attempt to confuse them was for naught (damn that chain shirt and its 10% spell failure chance and the chafing!).
The battle was joined as Kriggle charged on Mighty Steed, slamming into one of the monsters. It bellowed with pain and stabbed at Kriggle, who laughed off its foolish attempts to penetrate his mighty kobold plate armor. Foleful finally woke up, as Krikara crept darkly up the tunnel walls, seeking a clear shot with her deadly little bow. Plikt, too, fired a volley into the boarclopses, with little visible effect.
To sum up, the party ground the boarclopses up like meat in a grinder, with Kriggle in front soaking up blows, and the rest of the group hanging back, pelting the monsters with spells and arrows. One of the monsters was taken alive (stabilized at -9 or so) and Atarax demanded he be taken prisoner. Atarax dreamed of charming him into fighting for the party. The other boarclops was dismembered, and the party settled back into camp.
Krikara searched the boarclops bodies, and found that in addition to filth, the prisoner had a sack full of shiny rocks. She accepted responsibility for the shiny rocks (which included a few uncut gems) -- after Atarax charmed the prisoner, they could make a big deal out of how the other boarclops had robbed the prisoner, and the prisoner's new and dear friends were returning his shiny rock collection to him (minus a few unaccountably missing rocks, no doubt squandered by that other boarclops...). She and Plikt then settled into watch, kicking the prisoner.
Except a couple of hours later three more boarclops came charging down the corridor, looking angry. Everyone was still awake, though Foleful was lying down with his eyes closed. Again, the monsters were heard before they were seen, and Atarax identified their bellows.
This time Foleful was conscious. Quickly, the xvart summoner laid down a web in the direct path of the creatures, allowing the rest of the party time to ready their bows and weapons. As the boarclops burst through the web, they ran directly into the glue Foleful had placed in front of it. And then Foleful hit them with a stinking cloud. Not happy, these boarclopses. They bellowed in rage, for these were boarclopses with class levels, and broke through the glue, charging Kriggle and the water elemental dire wolf Foleful summoned. Aided again by missile fire and the encouraging, lilting tune Atarax sung (an epic about a goblinoid tribe’s slaughter of a purple worm, in which slaughter Atarax and Thar had participated) Kriggle and the summoned monster put the boarclopses down.
Roughly nine hours later, the party stepped over the pieces of boarclops and continued on their way. The boarclops prisoner, Guk, was not charmed by Atarax's honeyed tongue, and so the party killed it. Krikara kept the rock collection.
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Event Five: The Hob-Goblins Went to Hell and Took It Over
A few hours later, Krikara was creeping darkly along and heard faintly the sounds of conversation coming from up ahead. She alerted Atarax, who speaks a dozen languages. Or possibly Atarax heard it first.
Either way, somewhere ahead were two people conversing in Aboveground Common, not to be confused with Undercommon. The conversation went something like this.
FIRST VOICE: “Damn, I’ve tripped on another rock. Tore out a seam on my trousers.”
SECOND VOICE: “I hate this place, all these rocks, and it’s like a maze of twisty little passages, all alike.”
FIRST VOICE: “It’s just like Mycon to get lost in someplace like this. The bastard loves this kind of thing.”
SECOND VOICE: “What, rocks and mazes?”
FIRST VOICE: “No, seeing me split my pants. He probably set this up on purpose.”
SECOND VOICE: “Could be, could be. Maybe he’s laughing at us right now, and in a minute will appear, with a picnic basket of fine wines and scented cheeses.”
FIRST VOICE: “I hope so, I’m starving. Have one of the porters send up a leg of elf.”
SECOND VOICE: “We’re out of elf, remember? We ate it all last week.”
FIRST VOICE: “Damn, you’re right. I’ll just eat a porter, then.”
SECOND VOICE: “No good. We ate the porters the day before yesterday.”
FIRST VOICE: “I’m really getting tired of this.”
SECOND VOICE: “Crud! I stepped in some guano. These slippers are ruined.”
Which led to a hushed conversation along these lines.
ATARAX: “I have to meet these people! They’re raksashas! I can tell, due to my cheaty bardic power of knowing things!”
KRIKARA: “When I was saying speaking suggesting you listen hear, I meant sneaking shushing avoiding secretly!”
EVERYONE ELSE: “No!”
ATARAX: “Aw, c’mon! Everyone gets a free shot at putting the party in danger! It’s my turn!”
EVERYONE ELSE: “…fine. We’ll hide back here. You go talk to them.”
ATARAX: “Sure. You hide, I’ll talk.”
Foleful summoned up an arcane eye to watch over Atarax, and the goblin bard sauntered over to the tunnel (from the bottom of which the complaints about the gross décor of the Hellmouth emanated).
ATARAX: “Hello down there!”
RAKSASHAS: “What?”
ATARAX: “I said, hi!”
RAKSASHAS: “Where are you?”
ATARAX: “I’m here at the top of this tunnel!”
RAKSASHAS: “Oh, I see. Very clever.”
ATARAX: “So…”
RAKSASHAS: “Won’t you come down, so we can talk?”
ATARAX: “We’re talking now.”
RAKSASHAS: “Don’t try to be funny. We’ll come up.”
The magnificently impressive raksashas levitated out of the tunnel, oozing culture and superiority and racial modifiers to Intimidate.
ATARAX: “Cool.”
RAKSASHAS: “It’s not often you see a lone goblin.”
ATARAX: “Oh, I’m not alone. Guys? Guys?”
EVERYONE ELSE IN THE PARTY: “D’oh!”
Everyone else in the party emerged from hiding. Atarax introduced them all round, and explained to the raksashas that they were in a Hellmouth. The raksashas claimed to have gotten sucked into an interdimensional vortex at their associate Mycon’s house. Mycon, they feared, had fallen victim to the same vortex, and they were deeply concerned for him.
The raksashas eagerly accepted Atarax’s offering of most of the party’s food (they were extremely hungry) and found his “How We Killed A Purple Worm” song adequate. Atarax then invited the demons to journey with the party to Freetown, which was quite nearby and in which news of Mycon might be found. Else, the raksashas could journey on to Gulg, where surely information could be gathered.
The cat-demons were understandably reluctant to spend time with the party (and vice versa) but thanks to Atarax’s persistence and offerings of obeisance and food, they agreed to tag along for the last few hours of the trip.
It was only a little further to Freetown, where the party hopes to meet up with Thar and Rhuun. Doon’s small compound was only a little ways into the city, and he was one of the few inhabitants of Freetown that was both nearly indestructible and not unkindly-disposed to Foleful, the only member of the party with contacts in Freetown. After all, Doon was an artist who kept to himself. And more importantly, a troll, of the claw-claw-bite-rend variety. Why would anyone bother him?
NEXT: 101 Dead Troll Jokes
A few hours later, Krikara was creeping darkly along and heard faintly the sounds of conversation coming from up ahead. She alerted Atarax, who speaks a dozen languages. Or possibly Atarax heard it first.
Either way, somewhere ahead were two people conversing in Aboveground Common, not to be confused with Undercommon. The conversation went something like this.
FIRST VOICE: “Damn, I’ve tripped on another rock. Tore out a seam on my trousers.”
SECOND VOICE: “I hate this place, all these rocks, and it’s like a maze of twisty little passages, all alike.”
FIRST VOICE: “It’s just like Mycon to get lost in someplace like this. The bastard loves this kind of thing.”
SECOND VOICE: “What, rocks and mazes?”
FIRST VOICE: “No, seeing me split my pants. He probably set this up on purpose.”
SECOND VOICE: “Could be, could be. Maybe he’s laughing at us right now, and in a minute will appear, with a picnic basket of fine wines and scented cheeses.”
FIRST VOICE: “I hope so, I’m starving. Have one of the porters send up a leg of elf.”
SECOND VOICE: “We’re out of elf, remember? We ate it all last week.”
FIRST VOICE: “Damn, you’re right. I’ll just eat a porter, then.”
SECOND VOICE: “No good. We ate the porters the day before yesterday.”
FIRST VOICE: “I’m really getting tired of this.”
SECOND VOICE: “Crud! I stepped in some guano. These slippers are ruined.”
Which led to a hushed conversation along these lines.
ATARAX: “I have to meet these people! They’re raksashas! I can tell, due to my cheaty bardic power of knowing things!”
KRIKARA: “When I was saying speaking suggesting you listen hear, I meant sneaking shushing avoiding secretly!”
EVERYONE ELSE: “No!”
ATARAX: “Aw, c’mon! Everyone gets a free shot at putting the party in danger! It’s my turn!”
EVERYONE ELSE: “…fine. We’ll hide back here. You go talk to them.”
ATARAX: “Sure. You hide, I’ll talk.”
Foleful summoned up an arcane eye to watch over Atarax, and the goblin bard sauntered over to the tunnel (from the bottom of which the complaints about the gross décor of the Hellmouth emanated).
ATARAX: “Hello down there!”
RAKSASHAS: “What?”
ATARAX: “I said, hi!”
RAKSASHAS: “Where are you?”
ATARAX: “I’m here at the top of this tunnel!”
RAKSASHAS: “Oh, I see. Very clever.”
ATARAX: “So…”
RAKSASHAS: “Won’t you come down, so we can talk?”
ATARAX: “We’re talking now.”
RAKSASHAS: “Don’t try to be funny. We’ll come up.”
The magnificently impressive raksashas levitated out of the tunnel, oozing culture and superiority and racial modifiers to Intimidate.
ATARAX: “Cool.”
RAKSASHAS: “It’s not often you see a lone goblin.”
ATARAX: “Oh, I’m not alone. Guys? Guys?”
EVERYONE ELSE IN THE PARTY: “D’oh!”
Everyone else in the party emerged from hiding. Atarax introduced them all round, and explained to the raksashas that they were in a Hellmouth. The raksashas claimed to have gotten sucked into an interdimensional vortex at their associate Mycon’s house. Mycon, they feared, had fallen victim to the same vortex, and they were deeply concerned for him.
The raksashas eagerly accepted Atarax’s offering of most of the party’s food (they were extremely hungry) and found his “How We Killed A Purple Worm” song adequate. Atarax then invited the demons to journey with the party to Freetown, which was quite nearby and in which news of Mycon might be found. Else, the raksashas could journey on to Gulg, where surely information could be gathered.
The cat-demons were understandably reluctant to spend time with the party (and vice versa) but thanks to Atarax’s persistence and offerings of obeisance and food, they agreed to tag along for the last few hours of the trip.
It was only a little further to Freetown, where the party hopes to meet up with Thar and Rhuun. Doon’s small compound was only a little ways into the city, and he was one of the few inhabitants of Freetown that was both nearly indestructible and not unkindly-disposed to Foleful, the only member of the party with contacts in Freetown. After all, Doon was an artist who kept to himself. And more importantly, a troll, of the claw-claw-bite-rend variety. Why would anyone bother him?
NEXT: 101 Dead Troll Jokes
psychognome said:This must be the best Story Hour since Posy's Diary! Keep it up!
Cool, our first fan. Welcome psychognome!
Watch this space for more exciting humanoid action! This Wednesday will be our first session with the whole party. Sparks are sure to fly when Thar, Krikara, and Foleful start discussing the nature of the gods.
Forrester's also trying to get some of the other players to post here, so hopefully we'll have details about secular humanoidism, or darkcreeper diction soon.
Morrow
Kriggle's Day
Kriggle rode nobley home on his Mighty Steed, only to find his entire village wiped out. Ripped to shreds, torn to bits, stabbed, maimed, and other words Kriggle didn't know. Kriggle really didn't know what to think. He'd seen his fair share of dead bodies, (on the end of his lance thank Kurtulmak) so it was not the carnage that bothered him. These were chosen he knew and was supposed to protect. And now they were dead. He didn't really have a huge affection for these people, they didn't have one for him (the dumb kobold in plate mail was a necessary spectacle) but he was there to protect them. His claw tightened on his lance, biting back the anger and outrage.
Kriggle....
He stopped, rapt in attention to the voice that spoke to him.
Kriggle.... Now is not the time for tears. You must ride to find the ones who did this. Go forth my champion, and make them regret this death of my subjects.
"Yes Kurtulmak, my lord." He intoned softly. He looked around, not so eager to leave before burying the dead and properly mourning, as was custom. 'Who thinks they can kill chosen like this!!!? Who!?!?'
Kriggle.... There is no time for that. You must ride, to avenge them. These chosen are with me now. You must go now.
Kriggle bowed his head, and pronounced benediction over the dead. "Go to Kurtulmak, where the rabbits are plentiful, and know that you are giants in his eyes." He sniffled, just a bit.
Calling to Plit and Krup, he conveyed the necessaries of Kurtulmak's message, and left, questing for vengeance.
*Kriggle traveled for a while, all the while stewing in his failure to protect the village, and at the same time bolstered by the confidence Kurtulmak had once again shown him. It was then that he came across a roving band of three vagabonds*
Kriggle signaled for his two chosen to draw bows, and prepare for combat. 'These uglies might have killed the village! Too few, but maybe more behind!'
"Halt! Identify yourself in the name of Kurtulmak!" His proud voice echoed in sqeaky assertion throughout his helmet and the cavern. Destroying the perfect nobility of the moment, one of the uglies (in a silly hat) threw something at him, smashing his armor and filling his vision with light. But Kriggle was not done so easily. If they thought they could defeat the Divine Champion of Kurtulmak, Kriggle the Great so easily, they were mistaken! Kneeing his Mighty Steed, he charged up the cavern wall at the ugly. His faithful cohorts fired aroows up at the Wizard, injuring him. The evil ugly chanted again, and suddenly Kriggle felt the hellish fires of some creature behind him. Ignoring the demon (the Wizard was right before him!) he charged ahead, ignoring the blows from behind that glanced off of his armor. He struck the nasty wizard a harsh blow of justice, sending him reeling. In the force of the blow, Kriggle noticed something horrible. The ugly was blue!!! Anyone worth their horns is red after all, or at least pink out of jealousy, but to be attacked by a blue Wizard was too much.
The other ugly, a goblin, was waving his hands shouting "Let's stop this! No fighting! Stop now! I want peace!" (It was a lot more eloquent than that Ryan, sorry I'm not doing atarax justice) Kriggle noted the Goblin's wish not to die at Kriggle's hands. Clearly a wise Goblin, or at least an honorable one, wanting to apologize for his blue Wizard. He paused, with his lance pointed threateningly at the Wizard. "Do anything and I'll finish you off!"
He did something.
Moving away, the blue ugly provoked Kriggle, who smote him a blow of retribution that wounded him deeply. Just as the Wizard was to fall to Kriggle's divine might, the goblin chanted and threw something.
Kriggle was blind. So was Mighty Steed! The two bucked and turned, but could not see. After the Goblin apologized for the Wizard, Kriggle decided not to fight.
Kriggle... Go with these uglies. They may take you to the killers.
So Kriggle decided to go with them. After blessing the dead body of Krup (torn to death by the infernal creature!!) and helping up Plit (who had suffered from a mysterious arrow wound - but nobody knows who shot that, right Emily?) he set off with the uglies.
***********************
There was more to the last session, but I was just filling in the days events from Kriggle's point of view. The ones that I think were misunderstood.
Oh yes. Kurtulmak's vocie is an audio illusion. It's not really there. He's a wubbit crazy, but don't tell the party that.
Kriggle rode nobley home on his Mighty Steed, only to find his entire village wiped out. Ripped to shreds, torn to bits, stabbed, maimed, and other words Kriggle didn't know. Kriggle really didn't know what to think. He'd seen his fair share of dead bodies, (on the end of his lance thank Kurtulmak) so it was not the carnage that bothered him. These were chosen he knew and was supposed to protect. And now they were dead. He didn't really have a huge affection for these people, they didn't have one for him (the dumb kobold in plate mail was a necessary spectacle) but he was there to protect them. His claw tightened on his lance, biting back the anger and outrage.
Kriggle....
He stopped, rapt in attention to the voice that spoke to him.
Kriggle.... Now is not the time for tears. You must ride to find the ones who did this. Go forth my champion, and make them regret this death of my subjects.
"Yes Kurtulmak, my lord." He intoned softly. He looked around, not so eager to leave before burying the dead and properly mourning, as was custom. 'Who thinks they can kill chosen like this!!!? Who!?!?'
Kriggle.... There is no time for that. You must ride, to avenge them. These chosen are with me now. You must go now.
Kriggle bowed his head, and pronounced benediction over the dead. "Go to Kurtulmak, where the rabbits are plentiful, and know that you are giants in his eyes." He sniffled, just a bit.
Calling to Plit and Krup, he conveyed the necessaries of Kurtulmak's message, and left, questing for vengeance.
*Kriggle traveled for a while, all the while stewing in his failure to protect the village, and at the same time bolstered by the confidence Kurtulmak had once again shown him. It was then that he came across a roving band of three vagabonds*
Kriggle signaled for his two chosen to draw bows, and prepare for combat. 'These uglies might have killed the village! Too few, but maybe more behind!'
"Halt! Identify yourself in the name of Kurtulmak!" His proud voice echoed in sqeaky assertion throughout his helmet and the cavern. Destroying the perfect nobility of the moment, one of the uglies (in a silly hat) threw something at him, smashing his armor and filling his vision with light. But Kriggle was not done so easily. If they thought they could defeat the Divine Champion of Kurtulmak, Kriggle the Great so easily, they were mistaken! Kneeing his Mighty Steed, he charged up the cavern wall at the ugly. His faithful cohorts fired aroows up at the Wizard, injuring him. The evil ugly chanted again, and suddenly Kriggle felt the hellish fires of some creature behind him. Ignoring the demon (the Wizard was right before him!) he charged ahead, ignoring the blows from behind that glanced off of his armor. He struck the nasty wizard a harsh blow of justice, sending him reeling. In the force of the blow, Kriggle noticed something horrible. The ugly was blue!!! Anyone worth their horns is red after all, or at least pink out of jealousy, but to be attacked by a blue Wizard was too much.
The other ugly, a goblin, was waving his hands shouting "Let's stop this! No fighting! Stop now! I want peace!" (It was a lot more eloquent than that Ryan, sorry I'm not doing atarax justice) Kriggle noted the Goblin's wish not to die at Kriggle's hands. Clearly a wise Goblin, or at least an honorable one, wanting to apologize for his blue Wizard. He paused, with his lance pointed threateningly at the Wizard. "Do anything and I'll finish you off!"
He did something.
Moving away, the blue ugly provoked Kriggle, who smote him a blow of retribution that wounded him deeply. Just as the Wizard was to fall to Kriggle's divine might, the goblin chanted and threw something.
Kriggle was blind. So was Mighty Steed! The two bucked and turned, but could not see. After the Goblin apologized for the Wizard, Kriggle decided not to fight.
Kriggle... Go with these uglies. They may take you to the killers.
So Kriggle decided to go with them. After blessing the dead body of Krup (torn to death by the infernal creature!!) and helping up Plit (who had suffered from a mysterious arrow wound - but nobody knows who shot that, right Emily?) he set off with the uglies.
***********************
There was more to the last session, but I was just filling in the days events from Kriggle's point of view. The ones that I think were misunderstood.
Oh yes. Kurtulmak's vocie is an audio illusion. It's not really there. He's a wubbit crazy, but don't tell the party that.
Gez said:
Thanks Gez! We're certainly having fun playing, and writing about, the game.
I'm 99% sure that the darkcreeper's name is spelled Krikara. That is certainly how its pronounced.
Game night was Wednesday night, so expect another write-up to start soon, hopefully tonight. Thar and Rhuun finally met up with the rest of our intrepid heroes, the humanoids managed to antagonize nearly everyone they met, and they all bonded during a knock-down drag-out fight against a nearly unstoppable foe.
Morrow
Of course those pants may be wet with blood. "Look, its bigger, meaner, and more powerful than we are. Let's kill it!" does not seem to be a tactic that is going to get us very far in the long run.
Sorry, no update today. I overestimated the free time I was gong to have this week. The next update should be up in a couple days.
I'll leave you with a few of Thar's rules for living:
*If in doubt, run.
*Loot the bodies before the Darkcreeper gets to them.
*The only thing better than a dead enemy is a dead enemy you animate as a zombie.
Morrow
Sorry, no update today. I overestimated the free time I was gong to have this week. The next update should be up in a couple days.
I'll leave you with a few of Thar's rules for living:
*If in doubt, run.
*Loot the bodies before the Darkcreeper gets to them.
*The only thing better than a dead enemy is a dead enemy you animate as a zombie.
Morrow
