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Aug. 24th, 2003 11:18 amI'll get to the other requested thing later. I got in about 1:30 last night, after the party in the D&D game found the dragon horde.
For one, we did manage to commission an Arrow of Dragon slaying in a city. Said city, a port city, was under a blockade from a collusion of the local Crime boss (my PC's sister), and a Black Dragon with a nice little Lizardman force. We gave the arrow to our Elf archer...he just barely hit it. The GM rolled the dragon's save in front of all of us...and got a 3. One shot. We freaked.
Then, we found the gold. Because the dragon was raiding/blockading all incoming ships, as well as the tower being a forge/armory with gold to fund the Evil Army (tm).
We got an obscene amount of gold. Like...way beyond anything we've ever had. More freaking ensues.
We're rich. Filthy stinking rich.
But, some quotes from the game.
Brian: Oh, so we need arrows of Green Giant slaying?
Rod: Ho Ho Aaaaarrrgghhhhh!
Me: Sprout. But...why?
John, our GM: I've been working all day to think up of ways to kill you all.
Me: And this differs from any other day /how,/ exactly?
John: Okay, you see a number of Lizardmen making gesutres with their hands.
Rod: *makes appropriate finger gestures*
Me: Hail Scroob!
(Bob and Rod's characters are flying above the lizardmen, and Bob makes his Spellcraft check.)
Bob: Do I know what Call Lightning means?
Rod: It means we're about to become giant kites.
John: Those of you in the room, you hear water flowing.
Kit: I have this sudden urge to use the facilities.
(Pat. New player to D&D, charged a troll with his Monk/CLeric and died, after hitting the trool for 8 points. He got rended in half. It was hideous)
Pat: I died in one shot.
Brian: No, it was three shots.
Me: Though it was one round.
(Later on.)
Me: No, Pat, Turn Undead doesn't mean you can come back from the dead...
(After we count the gold and cheer and drool, from the dragon.)
Brian: We're rich. And all it cost us was a Monk and a Bard.
Me: But what price can we put on their lives? *points to treasure horde* This. This is good.
For one, we did manage to commission an Arrow of Dragon slaying in a city. Said city, a port city, was under a blockade from a collusion of the local Crime boss (my PC's sister), and a Black Dragon with a nice little Lizardman force. We gave the arrow to our Elf archer...he just barely hit it. The GM rolled the dragon's save in front of all of us...and got a 3. One shot. We freaked.
Then, we found the gold. Because the dragon was raiding/blockading all incoming ships, as well as the tower being a forge/armory with gold to fund the Evil Army (tm).
We got an obscene amount of gold. Like...way beyond anything we've ever had. More freaking ensues.
We're rich. Filthy stinking rich.
But, some quotes from the game.
Brian: Oh, so we need arrows of Green Giant slaying?
Rod: Ho Ho Aaaaarrrgghhhhh!
Me: Sprout. But...why?
John, our GM: I've been working all day to think up of ways to kill you all.
Me: And this differs from any other day /how,/ exactly?
John: Okay, you see a number of Lizardmen making gesutres with their hands.
Rod: *makes appropriate finger gestures*
Me: Hail Scroob!
(Bob and Rod's characters are flying above the lizardmen, and Bob makes his Spellcraft check.)
Bob: Do I know what Call Lightning means?
Rod: It means we're about to become giant kites.
John: Those of you in the room, you hear water flowing.
Kit: I have this sudden urge to use the facilities.
(Pat. New player to D&D, charged a troll with his Monk/CLeric and died, after hitting the trool for 8 points. He got rended in half. It was hideous)
Pat: I died in one shot.
Brian: No, it was three shots.
Me: Though it was one round.
(Later on.)
Me: No, Pat, Turn Undead doesn't mean you can come back from the dead...
(After we count the gold and cheer and drool, from the dragon.)
Brian: We're rich. And all it cost us was a Monk and a Bard.
Me: But what price can we put on their lives? *points to treasure horde* This. This is good.