Hit by a Missed Opportunity

We stumble in to what looks like a disused storeroom in the Asmodean Knot. There are bits and pieces stashed everywhere, and a small source of magic tempts Brennan and Afutavere in to look for it. They are both somewhat startled, but not surprised, when an atrophied humanoid stumbles out from behind something and starts to attack.

Afutavere tries to identify the creature, with its missing arm, foot, and jaw. 'Is it either human or undead?'

'It might be. Make your roll.'

'Okay, I get a 25, or more. 27 if it's human, 29 if undead. And 31 if we're in an urban area. Which we're not, what with being in a completely different plane as part of the Asmodean Knot.'

Well, thanks for mentioning it, all the same. Despite his elastic skill check results, the elf has no idea what we're looking at, perhaps even wondering if it counts as humanoid, what with it having only one arm. His failure to identify the creature has him reeling in shock. At least, we think it's shock, as Afutavere stands stock-still. But, no, it's just that he has predictably failed his first saving throw of the evening and has been paralysed with fear.

Brennan has no problem with seeing the creature and starts fighting back, although perhaps not giving quite as good as he's getting. The creature gets a couple of good hits in before the rest of us can enter the room. I dash in from further down the corridor, not quite getting in to attacking range, as does the Paladin, neither of us a-feared by the creature's aura. Skelra seems unaffected too, and mutters a few words that could be a spell. 'It's alright, lads', he tells us, although perhaps not quite so cockney, 'I've told it not to attack me or my allies'. We're not quite sure if this means it won't attack the paladin, and nor is the creature. It takes a shared glance between it and Skelra for it to back down completely.

Our necromancer has gained command of the creature, pretty much ensuring it is some kind of undead, and has told it not to attack. Thankfully, we can tame our own monster and keep paladin Ganelon from breaking the command so that we have a ceasefire, at least for the moment. 'It's a mummy', says Skelra, getting a closer look.

'And I've been wounded by it', says Brennan, suddenly feeling a little queasy. Yes, one of our party has been inflicted by mummy rot, the apocryphal disease that we use to scare players in to attending sessions. But everyone is here tonight! It's such a waste. Had anyone been missing there would have been weeks of fun kicked off by handing back the character sheet with 'mummy rot' scribbled on the top, as we normally do whether they have the disease or not. The initial disbelief and joking, the persistence of our apparently running gag, and the inevitable realisation, all missed!

Comments are closed.