Dungeons 'n Demons
Who: Andrew, and any heroes brave enough to meet the challenge
When: Evening
Where: The dark depths of House Slayer's basement
What: A most awesome strategic exercise in combat theory, demonic lore, and adventure...
Status: Incomplete
"Okay, um... let's start, and feel free to stop me whenever if you have a question or whatever," Andrew began, as he flipped the lights off, and then made his way back to his seat with only the flicker of candles to guide him.
Although, the hooded figure who now sat at the head of the table, was certainly no longer Andrew at all. Andrew was gone, and in his place was an omnipotent being of far greater importance: The Dungeon Master.
While he certainly did have the same boyish good looks as the familiar Watcher wonder, there was one physical difference: He wore atop his mighty crown, a crimson hooded veil of power (okay, well, it was actually a red floral scarf, but it was all he could find at the last minute to replace the original he had apparently left behind in Ohio).
The Dungeon Master took a long, silent glance around the table at his assembled champions, who had bravely answered the call only mere days before (when he had nagged them all to fill out their character sheets, and helped with many a stat calculation). His eyes then fell to the neat stack of parchment before him, and a moment later, the Dungeon Master did speak his first words of the evening.
"The Tavern Fairwench be crowded tonight, with many an assorted character. The air is filled with the scent of spilled grog, fresh meats, and the sound of merriment. There are many tables, but there be only a single wench to serve them all. Most seem more than patient to wait their turn for further sustenance and drink. Most, but not all it seems. Ok. So. Everyone, roll your awareness, single d six!"
When: Evening
Where: The dark depths of House Slayer's basement
What: A most awesome strategic exercise in combat theory, demonic lore, and adventure...
Status: Incomplete
"Okay, um... let's start, and feel free to stop me whenever if you have a question or whatever," Andrew began, as he flipped the lights off, and then made his way back to his seat with only the flicker of candles to guide him.
Although, the hooded figure who now sat at the head of the table, was certainly no longer Andrew at all. Andrew was gone, and in his place was an omnipotent being of far greater importance: The Dungeon Master.
While he certainly did have the same boyish good looks as the familiar Watcher wonder, there was one physical difference: He wore atop his mighty crown, a crimson hooded veil of power (okay, well, it was actually a red floral scarf, but it was all he could find at the last minute to replace the original he had apparently left behind in Ohio).
The Dungeon Master took a long, silent glance around the table at his assembled champions, who had bravely answered the call only mere days before (when he had nagged them all to fill out their character sheets, and helped with many a stat calculation). His eyes then fell to the neat stack of parchment before him, and a moment later, the Dungeon Master did speak his first words of the evening.
"The Tavern Fairwench be crowded tonight, with many an assorted character. The air is filled with the scent of spilled grog, fresh meats, and the sound of merriment. There are many tables, but there be only a single wench to serve them all. Most seem more than patient to wait their turn for further sustenance and drink. Most, but not all it seems. Ok. So. Everyone, roll your awareness, single d six!"