Showing posts with label dungeons and dragons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dungeons and dragons. Show all posts

4/16/12

Down we go again!

Oh no, not again.

Whilst being eaten by a dragon is woefully unpleasant, being eaten by a dragon when you’re about to unleash the sexiest pick-up line known to Druid-kind* is just abysmal.

Clank, clonk, bonk, crack, screeeeeech! As I fell down the foul beast’s esophagus I reached out with my hands, my feet, my nails, ANYTHING to help slow my fall (all the while calling down to the Guy, “Hey, I can show you a really wild rhi—wait that’s not how it goes, DAMNIT I PRACTICED). I was surprised to find that instead of hitting flesh, my digits came against cold, hard, metal. Oh FUCK.

We hadn’t been eaten by a dragon (inside a dragon)—we’d been consumed by a MECHANICAL dragon (inside a dragon).

The dragon must have swallowed some gnome tinkerers and their (abominable) creation. You’re familiar with gnome tinkerers of course. They’re the guys that stretch out your boots while trying to sell you graphics cards they swear will make the things look better. If only the Guy and I could find their control room… Perhaps this wasn’t so bad—I began to think—Perhaps this is our ticket out!

Still falling***,
Girl.IAD

*The line, of course, is “How much do I weigh in polar bear form? Just enough to break the ice!”**
**A variation of this for gamer druids is “How much do I slay in polar bear form? Just enough to crush your dice!” It sounds as threatening as it actually is.
***In love (and in a dragon [inside a dragon])

5/19/11

La Grande Fleur

Oh deities, how could we have been so unprepared?! The Bowelbears knew we were coming--there was a traitor in our midst! Yet we still had the advantage--we had me, and I had a secret.

The day before the battle I had found the Pirates' cache of muskets and bullets. They were slimy and moldy, but with any luck these would be our ticket to victory--these plus some spores. Viney was in heat and creating a serious mess of pollen. Together we covered everything--muskets, gunpowder, bullets--everything in pollen. I was leaving nothing to chance, and even if it meant depleting my supply of Claritin I was going to saturate our supplies with Viney's reproductive material.

Nothing is as distracting as allergy season. We were going to make these assholes sneeze--all of them. The Pirates were going to be"intoxicated with liberty and enthusiasm," sure. But they were also going to be intoxicated with histamines. I had no intention of spending the rest of my life as a magician for French Pirates. Sure, it was nice to be the only one around with magic, but there are only so many times you want to make a worm grow a couple feet or a make stomach toad sing opera for praise and moldy baguette. I had better things to do--like not be inside a dragon.

And so when the battle began, I tied a bandana around my mouth and nose and ran for it--I had only a few minutes to find and rescue the Guy and escape this dismal city. It would have been so easy--I had planned everything so perfectly! But the Bowelbears had been expecting us and created the perfect diversion--a model of the Eiffel Tower!

Instantly the French Pirates swarmed to it and began complaining loudly about what an eyesore it was and how it would blight the horizon (what horizon, I thought) for generations, and how they would never accept it as an icon of their beloved, historical, and far more elegant memory of Paris.

I had little time to reflect on the utter silliness of the situation as the Bowebears began their siege. The crack and boom of musket-fire was overpowering, and the scent of burning flesh mixed with pollen is one I wish I could forget.

As the sneezing and wheezing began I spotted what I was looking for--the entrance the prison, the infamous Bowelstille, and my spirits rose. In there, I hoped, sat my one hope for getting out of this miserable Wyrm--another magic user.

Just as I started running towards the gate the unthinkable happened--I found myself face to face with the traitor. She and her goons had me surrounded; there was no way I could reach the Guy in time!

Now that I looked at her, it was rather obvious that the one we called Gary Mantoinette was not just a charming, but slightly disconcerting Pirate--she was a Trollon!

I had only one chance. I kissed Viney and sent him on his way--he knew what to do--and began my incantation, praying this silly trick would work.

"Just get inside the damn tower!" I yelled. "You can't see it ruining the view if you're inside it!" Gulp. Let's do this.

At-choo!
-Girl.IAD

1/18/11

The Girl's Quest

I had the most bizarre dream last night. I dreamt I was a grad student and starving artist with no time to write on a blog... Funny that.

Anyways, things have been pretty busy for me inside the dragon since the new year. I have obtained a quest!

It all began Christmas eve. I was floating along the stomach in my makeshift boat, debating the existence of an omnipotent DM with my dear friend the vine (he's an a-die-ist), when all of a sudden I heard a voice from across the acid. At first I thought it was the assassin vine, casting ventriloquism in a meagre attempt to distract and subsequently strangle me, but it got closer and closer until I could distinguish the words.

"I don't want a lot for Christmas/There's just one thing I need/I don't care about the loot/Underneath the dead treant/I just want you and me to pwn/More than you could ever know/Make my wish come true/All I want for Christmas--"

Suddenly a tentacle erupted from the stomach fluid (and I mean, like, erupted, it was probably a volcanoctopus or something) and grabbed the mysterious singer. I had to think quick--if I wanted to save this guy, I needed to know I was with something I could trust. I turned to the assassin vine and explained the situation to it--offering it freedom and a life of endless meandering through stomach acid or a life of adventure, companionship, and one day-I prayed-friendship. I gave it my coldest of contractual looks (I have some cold contractual looks, btw) and held my hand out to it. "The choice is yours," I said.

It hesitated for a moment, then wrapped its 'hand' around mine. We held our grasps firm, but true. I knew I had an ally at last.

We sped off towards where the tentacle had grabbed the singer, but found nothing but kayak pieces and some splinters from a cask of Dwarven IPA. What was he thinking, drinking IPA in a place like this?

Since that day I've been searching for the mysterious voice. I know its against the odds, but somehow I know he's still alive.

It's going to be a difficult quest, but hey, it's not like I have anything else to do. Besides, I think luck is on my side. When the vine and I shook hands, a bright light encompassed me and I leveled up. The GM in the sky must have liked my role-playing, I now have some nifty spells and can finally purify water!

Questing,
Girl.IAD