Yes, I've seen him there, too. And whenever I run into Fargoal fans anywhere, I suggest they join us in this forum. So, I gather you don't know him personally, Paul? I think a Fargoal t-shirt would be quite cool.
No I don't just saw his post there. But sure, we need t-shirts. And plushies. And action figures, and...
If I had the proper art work I could get this going. *hint I've already asked for it a few times,so hook me up hint* I need to look into the plushies thing more, I've found a few places that look promising, but if anyone has any inside scoops, let me know please! I want a dire wolf plushy and a Fargoal Tee.
*sigh* I pulled my right calf muscle pretty badly so I'm stuck at home. (It's a long weekend in Canada anyway, but it's gorgeous out and I can't even go out in it 'cos I can barely walk.) On the upside, in between working on some music I'll be able to spend some time sending Sir Ender ever deeper into his legendary dungeon. Crotchety cockeyed peacock be damned!
Whew, you scared me, Mindfield. I read fast and at first thought Sir Ender had injured himself. But now I see it's just you. (Feel better soon.)
Yes, clearly Sir Ender is the one that needs to survive. Thanks though. I've got A535 and Percoset, so I'm good, save for the fact that I look like a shuffling zombie who's lost a foot a few dozen feet back when I try and go anywhere.
Oh, Sir Ender's going to be put off by that statement. I suspect he's going to tear this dungeon apart with his moustache just to spite you. Well of course he has a moustache. All proper adventurers do. Well, the male ones, anyway. A good, sturdy Wilford Brimley broomstache, the sort that can turn pages as you read and survives by taking a cut of whatever you eat.
Apropos of nothing, I feel dirty, and a little annoyed. I had a pasty skinhead ask to borrow my lighter this morning. Being the good citizen that I am I oblige. He then proceeded to take out a blackened hollow tube, stuff it with a small nugget of crack, and then flame-broil it as he inhaled. I told him to keep the lighter. Freakin' crackheads. As a result I think I need to go dungeon diving to forget about this incident.
Sir Ender's Legendary Log On this, the 8,450th day since Sean Penn decked a movie extra for trying to take his picture. Entry I The human brain never ceases to amaze me. I decided to search a corpse-filled chest because I couldn't recall if I'd done so yet, but accidentally closed the lid. Upon reopening it again, I had the wits frightened out me again! You'd think I would have expected it, but apparently my brain can be an idiot sometimes. Startled, I mean. Startled. I had the wits startled out of me. Entry II Great, just bloody great. I had to go an attack a fire drake. Now I'm hurting and my shield is destroyed. This is going to be a long day. Entry III Had to escape to another dungeon section. There I found a lizardman and a troll hovering around the temple. I had to lure them away so I could heal in peace. Entry IV Down the green staircase. That means loot. It also means tougher critters, and lacking my shield means I'm going to have to rely on my mustache to deflect blows. Entry V Three chests resulting in one sleep, one acid, and one toxic gas trap. Not only can I not catch a break, I can't even find one to chase after. I did find a studded leather shield though. I doubt it will hold up long but it's something for now. Entry VI Ah-ha! Now we're getting somewhere. I was beginning to despair of any secret areas on this section despite ample room for them, but I found one, and nestled inside with some creepy bones was an even creepier shield made out of them. Wonderful! I feel like I should be on an Iron Maiden album cover with my arm around Eddie. Entry VII Moving on to another section. Apart from the bone shield I did manage to find a few miscellaneous spells and a couple of weapon enchantments, so it was worth the trip, despite the numerous delays from pathetically weak skeletons and wraiths. Think they can scare me. Pah! Entry VIII Warlords hurt. Entry IX Oh. Crap. He jumped me. Didn't see. Surprised. Couldn't stop him. Couldn't get away. Didn't teleport in time. No chance for restoration. I'm afraid this is my last entry. To whomever finds this log, please give my bones a proper burial, preferably up a mercenary's bottom. Farewell.
Not when the bastage is whacking me for 40+ a shot. I died at -30HP. Dude was vicious. But I guess that means I'm going to have to start anew, maybe spend a little bit longer leveling on the higher floors, because clearly, despite an otherwise halfway decent character, and despite exploring every area on every floor, I went too deep too soon. (That's what she said!) Time to roll again...
RIP Sir Ender. Long live Sir WCN, Whoever Comes Next! MacLegend7 is at Level 7 and hanging on by the skin of his worn out (damaged, shabby) teeth. Onward!
Sir Ender's bones are interred on 8. Assuming you take "interred" to mean "buried in the stomachs of scavengers." Looks like it is time for Squire Billy to rock this dungeon tonight.
Now, now, you show the proper respect for an 80s B-list pop-rock notable. He should be treated like you'd treat, say, Rick Springfield or The Pukka Orchestra.
Jeez, make that 8 dead legends in a row. Perhaps I should stop naming them all Madlegend? What is in a name, she said.
