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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3540340" data-attributes="member: 16069">Chapter 1a: The Sunless Citadel: The Pig of Terrible Doom.Chapter 1a: The Sunless Citadel: The Pig of Terrible Doom.Actually I missed a section out, the above session didn’t end there, we press on…The four huddle around the stone door, which Dartamor has declared safe, and with a shove they’re in. The room beyond is a wreck; pools of water, broken masonry and far off, in the shadows, a terrible sound-SQWWWEEEInstinctively Aleso turns to leave, subconsciously brushing at the dirty spot on his armour, Grand Alf rises to his full height and then thinking better of it scuttles out of the room, Saradomin waves his torch about like a demented lighthouse. Dartamor is more proactive, and less frightened of rats it seems…THWONGHe fires.SQwThe noise stops.Aleso shoves to the front again, nods at Dartamor and steps into the room. They creep in…And a minute or so later they declare the room clear, the western wall has partially collapsed, gaps poke through to the rubble field beyond, the only real point of interest is the door.They stand around it, speculating-“It’s a pig.” Grand Alf crosses his arms, certain.“It’s not a pig it’s a dragon.” Dartamor's not so sure, particularly as he's just caught the eye of the DM.“It’s a PIG- look at the snout.” No, Grand Alf is adamant.“It’s a dragon.” So's the DM... and Dartamor.“It’s a flying pig- the snout, a dead give away.” Grand Alf wins.Let me explain- I, your friendly narrator & DM, had brought to life a startling depiction of a dragon, top down view- it was so real, so life like that I feared for the sanity of the children… alas they said, in unison, “a pig?”“What’s in its mouth?” Grand Alf has spotted something.Dartamor has a look inside,“There’s a keyhole…”“Well?”Grand Alf taps his foot and stares at the thief. Aleso steps up to the plate…“I will hold the strange pig of terrible doom-type creature’s jaws agape while you delve into its fanged snout… I mean maw.”Aleso does so, grappling with invisible forces, straining and groaning to keep the untrapped, unmoving maw open. A minute or so of gurning later the thief pops his head out; the paladin leaves off and wipes his brow- another job well done, another soul saved.“Nah.”“Sorry?”“Nah. Can’t be done- tricksy like, need the key.”Grand Alf is shocked.“Nah! What kind of answer is that, I thought you said you’d done this before? I don’t want to be down here with a thief who can’t open doors… Are you even qualified?”Dartamor rises to his full height, five feet; Grand Alf puts his wizard hat on, about six feet ten, including hat.The two bump chests, squaring up, sorta- what with the height difference, grimacing and gnashing.“Long tall streak off…”“Short, sleight… pointy-eared… Inadequate.”Aleso and Saradomin step in.“Now, now… people, as St. Cuthbert always says- ‘a friend in need is a friend indeed’” states the Cleric.“Pelor says, ‘Help, when you need somebody… Help’” Counters the Paladin.The two god-botherers glare at each other.“Obviously Pelor, a minor deity, is more attuned to ditties and homilies, rather than actual words of wisdom.”“Well, St. Cuthbert is nothing but a drunken Scot cadging money in the street.”It kicks off…Twenty minutes later our heroes are back in the first chamber, the round tower- Aleso limps a little, Grand Alf has a ripped robe and a crumpled hat, Dartamor displays a startlingly red ear and Saradomin has the beginnings of a black eye. They’re eating sandwiches. Nobody speaks… for a bit. Dartamor breaks the silence.“Alf.”“Wha?”Dartamor shuffles around in his jerkin.“Here’s your wallet back.”Alf jumps up.“You bloody thief.”Dartamor smiles.“Thanks. Can I get that in writing.”Alf gauges the moment.“Ok.”And sits, but not silently, the bubble's burst.“What ya got in your sarnies?” He enquires.“Jam, it's an Elven thing, we eat a lot of Jam.” Dartamor replies.“Aleso?” Grand Alf presses on.“Pelor states that sandwiches should be plain, unadorned and without flavour.”“What ya got then?”“Beef paste.”“How is it?”“Fishy.”“Saradomin?” Next for scrutiny, Grand Alf completes the circle.“St. Cuthbert states that sandwiches should be free, members of the church should enjoy the fruits of their toil with good sandwiches in order to recover from the trials of life.”“What ya got then?”“Beef paste. It’s all the pub had… it tastes fishy.”The sound of chewing.“What do you have Grand Alf?” Dartamor remembers his manners.“Magic Smash.”The chewing stops. Dartamor needs more information, looking at their faces, so do the others.“Magic Smash?”“Aye.”There’s only one person chewing.“What’s magic smash?”“Well… you know nuts?”“Yeah.”“Well you start off by shelling them and then smashing them, then the fermented cream of Moocows is churned into finest butter, salt is added, then the smashed nuts- the whole mixture is then churned again- some people like it smooth, that’s churned for up to two years, others, like me, like it crunchy- it’s usually ready in a week or two. It gives you magic points back.”The one chewer continues.“Magic Points?”“It’s something I read. I’ve certainly noticed the difference with my light spells- they glow brighter.”“What’s it called again?”“Magic Smash.”“Right. Can I have a bite?”Chomp“And err…” Aleso chimes in.Chomp“I wouldn’t mind…” Saradomin takes up the cause.ChompThe sound of four people chewing.“It gets in yer teef.” Dartamor manages.“But it tastes Magic.” Aleso admires the sarnie from afar.“Lovely.” Saradomin confirms it.“Mmmm.” Grand Alf chews on.A while later they’re all done and friends again…And then through the wooden door…A corridor into darkness, no hang on there’s a door ahead and there must be a light in the room beyond, creepy creepy they go.There’s another door on the right, into an empty room, Grand Alf mooches in, takes a quick look around.“Nothin’”There’s a much more daunting door on the left, a huge metal thing. Grand Alf and Saradomin start to work at it, seconds later they’re ready to jump in; the plan fails when they discover that the door is tight shut- probably locked. They turn round to look for Dartamor, who puts his finger to his lips for shush…Dartamor and Aleso are at the far door, into the lit room,EEEEEEERRRThe door opens, a strange room, many doors and darkened archways leading from it, a crude looking altar, a bent and broken cage and lastly and most importantly something, or somebody, laid on the floor on the far side of the room- cryingMww Mwww Mwww“Shhhh… listen…”Mwww Cornnnflakes Mwww Mwww“Wha?”CooooooRRRRRRNNNNNflaykeSSSSS.“Cornflakes?”And with that the first session actually comes to an end… Next time… Aleso vs. The Demon from Hell (or Hull, I forget which).</blockquote>

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