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 Blighty Bound

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Phlegm

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Number of posts : 751
Registration date : 2007-04-26

PostSubject: Blighty Bound   Thu 15 Jul - 13:43:38

Blighty Bound

We moved into the forest heading south from the tower keeping the river away on our right. This was handy as it gave me a chance to exercise my extensive fishing skills. We camped deep in the forest, only to be disturbed by the arrival of a treeman. We carefully extinguished the fire carelessly left alight by some wandering vagrants and had a conversation with the wooden monstrosity. After establishing that we were not orcs it mentioned some had passed this way several lifetimes ago.

After I had once again emptied the river as effectively as a Kislevian factory ship, we came upon the Blight. This area, marked by chaos had been spoken of by our leafy friend and we decided to cross the area in daylight. We travelled on south at first light and were making progress when we came upon a cave marked with orcish graffiti. It mentioned our old friend Torgoch again and the opening beckoned and smelt of handouts to lure us in.

The stench of carrion greeted us and we found a cavern filled with bones and furs but no lurking denizens. We continued our exploration to another cavern where we found some elvish artefacts ranging from a skull to a mail shirt. Still no sign of the caverns occupants, we pressed on, only for Ulrich in the lead to plummet down an unexpected slope into a water filled cavern, closely followed by me and Carstiron the wizard.

So, my buoyancy aided by my new shiny elf mail shirt, I quickly reacquainted myself with the all too familiar sensation of drowning, that was quickly becoming the trademark experience of this adventure.

Eventually after much thrashing about we managed to emerge somewhat bedraggled from our watery near tomb, in some cases significantly richer as a treasure chest on the bottom yielded a fair haul of coins and gems.

Unfortunately, Skippy did not re emerge.

We returned to the large cavern to dry off and by the time we were naked, it was just in time to meet the happily returning owners of the cavern. Three bears? No. The seven dwarves? No. Of course not. Two minotaurs.

Despite our naked state the fell beasts were undeterred and pressed home their attack. A considerable struggle ensued in which it emerged that one of the creatures had the unpleasant habit of bleeding molten rock when struck. This left several unsightly scorch marks on anyone with the temerity to injure it.

Fortunately, the scorch marks were quickly blended away with the first degree burns inflicted by its fiery breath. Mr Smith and the wizard both had miraculous escapes and only Snorri seemed to be holding his own. I took a nasty couple of cracks, but the good news was that the other minotaur was seared to a crisp after getting caught in the fireball that erupted from its companion. The wizard tried several times to sleep the beast with no luck at all; even when he did get the spell away in contact with its flesh it somehow resisted the enchantment.

Then with a couple of lucky blows I managed to despatch it, the shock of my trusty pick severing its arm causing it to expire before it could adjust our roasting time from medium rare to well done. Not an experience I am keen to repeat in a hurry, the opposition is clearly getting serious.

12.07.10
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