Saturday, January 14, 2012

Blessed Saint Serpentor preserve me!

These local Cornish saints
 are weird, man.
So yesterday Philip the Bloody, Gilgamesh the Macho, Sufflebrot the Elf, Brother Cafael (and the brother's unfortunate nephew) visited the dungeons of Dundagel.  They bumped into Blixa the Thief and Abe Lincoln Vampire Hunter (who apprently woke up hung over inside the dungeon) just as a brief firefight broke out between the adventurers and the Purple Raiders.  A well-placed sleep spell dispatched most of the raiders, leaving only their phaser-wielding leader.  Abe killed her, but not before everyone in the party saw Philip summon the Vampire Lord of Crows to do his bidding!  Well, it was a phantasmal force of that guy, anyway.

Later the party fought a giant tick that tore Gilgamesh a new poop chute where his throat should be.  The wound was a fatal Arduin Grimoire critical hit, but somehow he survived and somehow the intervention of Saint Serpentor was involved. I was there.  I was the DM.  And I still don't understand exactly what happened.

Sometimes what happens in the dungeon stays in the dungeon, I guess.  Either way Philip the Bloody now owns a phaser, Gilgamesh sports a terrible scar on his neck, and my campaign has a new saint.

Here's a little game for the comments section. Suggest an apocryphal miracle of St. Serpentor.  I'll go first.

Saint Serpentor drove the snakes into Ireland.