The comedy word play was fun but conflicted a bit with the seriously deranged necromancer. Hard to balance those two while I read it, then with the lighthearted comments by the necro about being peeled...it just seemed a little too contradictory. The description of the home with the bones and skin and such would be more at home in another specifically macabre post rather than this I think. Overall though, I thoroughly enjoyed the fun aspect of it all. Go to Comment
And in years to come, when peril came again to the village, the villagers remembered the valor of the heroes as they defeated the necrospuds. "For the Taters!" they would later yell as they charged into battle. Go to Comment
The inanimate body of a Burlap Golem, rent nearly in two, is used as a combination of sleeping bag and mattress. A bubbling jar of what looks like noses with tiny muscled feet bodes ominously beside it. Occasionally, a bubble stirs the slick green fluid and one of the noses jumps away in fright.Go to Comment
As I am already notorious among my friends for the appalling accents I affect when gaming (To secretly punish me, they have gone so far as to interrogate every member of a small village of dwarves with Swedish accents, just to watch me squirm), I'm not sure whether this would be "right up my alley" or "too much of a good thing".
There's only the one necromancer, so I think it's safe... Go to Comment
Upon reflection, further information about the motivations and goals of the deranged Veggimancer might be helpful. What is it that drove him to such vile deeds of spud stealing? Did the villagers, suspecting his sinister schemes, refuse to sell their vegetables to the man?
On a separate note, what led Seamus to paper his hovel with human flesh? Was the cracked and weathered tree inordinately drafty, were the local paperhagers exceptionally expensive, or was it (as we suspected) merely a "style thing"? I suspect that the man was one of those rabid "do it yourself" types, determined that he was going to save money by doing the job alone (with only a few undead vegetables to help him).
If his decor was actually meant to impress others with his outrageous "Necromanticness", perhaps there are other necromancers out there, equally sinister and vile (and with even more outrageous accents!). These twisted souls may come calling after his defeat, seeking the rare home decorating secrets of Seamus Rhine. Go to Comment
I had taken the gruesome details as suggestions that the villain wasn't just another necromancer, he was a "necromancer's necromancer", with trade journals lying around the place (bound in human skin and inked in bat's blood), skull-shaped torch holders and lava lamps, and maybe even a portrait of Elizabeth Bathory done on black velvet (signed "With Love and Kisses, Liz"). Go to Comment
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?