Okay, so since I have pretty much zero capacity to remember anything, I can't recall if I've written about this before. Also, I don't want to open another browser window and find out because the kernel on my computron is freakin' out a little and I think it has something to do with the interwebs. Now what the hell was I talking about? ....Oh, right: I tend to go out twice a week, once on Thursdays to get hot chocolate with two (sometimes) three ladies and once sometimes Friday or Saturday to play D&D. Before school started up again, these were pretty much my ONLY contact with the outside world. On this particular Friday past, our bold group of adventurers faced the challenge of 'making something'. Two of our party went about constructing a plush owlbear in-game (i.e. there is no actual cute plushie owl bear that resulted from this....yet. Llameks are already on my list, so plush cryptozoology may be inching up on me), while certain other members of our party decided it would be a really good idea to write a ballad about our adventures. Except I actually wrote one and Jesse (who would have made a pretty great bard back in the day) performed it with all appropriate gusto in spite of the fact that it was truly terrible. We were in pretty fine form. I even managed to get in a line about the sweet robe we got from a litch we had defeated
The Doom-Filled Ballad of the Harbingers
It began in the land of Tolkeineth,
where many an adventurer did go,
But many an adventurer met his death,
for there was a lich below.
And then one day the Goblin King,
driven from home by the dead,
Attacked a town where heros supped and
Lo! his minions bled.
Dominique was a crafty lich,
but no real match for his foes;
They slew him straight and smashed his box,
and also stole his clothes.
Enchanted bears and Hill Giants
fell beneath their blades;
They smashed their way through time and space,
Shadar'kai and slades.
Golems and zombies rushed the field,
but then came Ahulugaran,
Who slew the leaders and left that land
in the hands of Caleron.
Look, I told you it was bad. My assignment for this week was to work it into ballad verse so we could sing it to the tune of the "Gilligan's Island" theme. Since I still have yet to make my mini some new wings, I don't think anyone should be expecting that anytime soon.
Be Seeing You
Boil Update:
What a horrible disappointment. I really think it was glorifying it to call it a boil at all. In the right light, I can sort-of see where it was, but like my perception of the disturbed earth over the raccoon, it might just be in my mind.
Last spring we buried a raccoon near a tree, but over the summer they cut the tree down, so there's a little uncertainty as to where exactly the body is. I'm pretty sure I can still see signs of disturbance in the place I seem to remember burying it, but as noted before, that could just be observer bias and a manifestation of my CRAZY.
