More Leechy Goodness

[lederhosen.livejournal.com]

Rey tried very very hard to kill us, but 'twas to no avail as we rolled well when needed to save our lives. Even the dwarf survived, much against the odds (2d6 damage when you've only got 7 hits left isn't good...)

Discovered that the cure for horrible leech-borne wasting sickness is... leech soup. Grit teeth, return to leech pond, fish for leeches using self as bait. It's a good thing druids aren't squeamish.

Manage to deplete entire stock of leeches without successfully curing self. Shed tear at thought of valuable species exterminated by overfishing. Remove leech-skin grip from spear and make more soup, also doesn't work. Eventually reduced to buying leeches from town healer. Cured at last, yay! ("Leeches! Is there anything they can't do?")

Thief, while listening at doors, discovers the joys of Ear Seekers. Prompt action by yours truly saves him from a horrible death. Is there any problem that can't be solved by pouring oil on it? Did not, however, ignite oil this time, even though all first-aid training says oil should be warm.

Discover pony thief. Four orcs have saved us the trouble of killing him, and even thoughtfully decapitated him so we don't have to carry the whole body back to town to claim the price on his head. Karma and all that. Orcs are duly rewarded for their pains. Or is that pained for the reward? Involves Entangle spell and much smiting.

Hear very loud snoring noise behind door. Kick door open yelling ancient Elven war-cry ("Hey nonny nonny!")

Note to self: Next time, when attacking sleeping monster, stab first, shout later. By the time we're across the floor, Mr. Ogre is awake, and promptly clubs Ric the Dwarf for the aforementioned nasty damage. Play vital role in combat that follows by demonstrating mastery of spear, leaving ogre awestruck; refrain from dirtying spear with ogre blood, graciously allowing Andrew the Beefy Fighter to score actual killing blows.

After all, am still way ahead in kill tally after yesterday's anthill episode.

With ogre dead, admire box just the right size to hold the gem we've been looking for (aka: McGuffin.) We step forwards and ope-

No, the dwarf checks for traps. Discovers gas trap. We prudently stand well back, so as to be in a position to render aid if the dwarf botches his Disarm Traps roll.

Dwarf botches his Disarm Traps and triggers the trap. Runs out, collapses at our feet. Fortunately, only sleep gas. Dwarf awakes several hours later, and we haven't even gone home without him.

Return to town (should really have looked for pony, can't remember everything.) Sell stuff, deliver somewhat aged head for bounty, extort much more than agreed reward for gem, divvy up loot. Feeling much wealthier.

Rey hands out XP. Howls of anguish as we realise we're still only halfway through first level. How much are chickens worth again?