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Sunday, August 13

Saturday

Saturday went well but was underwhelming. Where Friday was a knock-down, drag-out battle to the death where we all barely survived, Saturday's RPGA event was stupidly easy. The rogue spent hours disarming traps, some of which were clearly identified by graffiti of kobold heads being sliced off. And oh yeah, the headless kobolds laying in the hall.

We then broke a bunch of weapons to get a ritual that nobody can use. After rescuing two people, one of which who didn't really want to be rescued, we came across a troll. And then, frustrated at not having killed anything, beat the crap out of it. I almost felt bad for the troll.

Then we went back to the hotel, drank a lot of beer, and played three-dragon ante all night while watching the Venture Brothers. Good times, good times.

We've got an 8 a.m. game today. This is our last chance to kick some serious Living Greyhawk ass. I'm wearing my special shirt that reads: MY ELF STINKS...STINKS LIKE AWESOME. That's Blast's motto.

We'll see if we live up to it.

Labels: conventions and travel

posted by Mike Tresca at 7:21 AM

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