Of course, the gods see to it that I'm promptly provided one I have no hope of using, or need to do so. After all this time, am I truly seeing a book in this infested pit? And a book of magic, at that! What? What wondrous sight is this? What impossible treasure? I can scarcely believe my eyes. The amulet was promptly identified as "controlled flight", which appears to be some sort of magical term for utterly worthless trinkets. Had to leave a good deal of my equipment behind, in any case, after which I quickly found one of those convenient old scrolls of identification, which I used on my as-yet-mysterious amulet. Not that a gentleman should be forced to lift anything heavier than a silver spoon or perhaps a book in any case, but I seem to have much too little time for such concerns these days.
#Dungeon crawl stone soup steam full
Why? Well, my disease appears to be striking in full force at the moment, and I'm feeling a tad weaker than the usual. Shortly afterwards, I find myself weighed down. Gave me a new deck not long ago, after all. But I'm sure old Nemelex would appreciate the sacrifice. And I suppose there was a practical reason or two as well. Why, you ask? Well, it was dashed hideous, that's why. In any case, I quickly discarded the coat. Damnable damp air must be doing something to the ink. Now, I'm afraid my journal's a tad messy from this point on, can't imagine why. A staircase into some nightmarish swamp I plan to avoid for some time - I do believe I heard a hydra down there - and the world's tackiest fur coat. I suppose these wands would do well enough, than?Ĭan't imagine why you're in such a fuss over bloodshed, what with being the most gruesomely efficient weapon I have on hand in any case. I demand chaos, destruction and progress. I suppose this is a revenge of sorts, than.
You know, I do believe I remember one sneaking into my family's summer home when I was only a few years old, causing a great deal of general stress. I realize that such items are typically artifacts of unparalleled power, so imagine my disappointment upon discovering that the box's only blasted function is conjuring small, harmless animals. Since the last one I took lead to trouble, I took it upon myself to sidestep this one. On my way back down, I discovered another of those odd golden staircases. Dashed inconvenient, really, this whole storage business. With any luck, they'll be suitably preserved when I come back. I suppose I'll simply have to grit my teeth and bear with it until I find a cure, hm?Īs you can see, I left a good deal of my belongings behind. Now than, last time, a potion resulted in a horrific degenerative disease.
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