Another short weekend down the drain.
We killed Friday evening going out with Mom to the slowest moving buffet I’ve ever seen. This Chinese buffet is one of those places (like the PA DMV or the Chester County Library) that you go into around 6pm expecting to spend a half hour or so eating, and you end up walking out and it’s quarter til 11 and you feel hungry. Weird.
Saturday I wasn’t feeling very well in the morning. I was probably up too late after the buffet reading that book Jen gave me for my birthday, but I also had a headache and stomach cramps (buffet?) and didn’t much move, let alone leave the house.
On page 350 or so of Kushiel’s Dart, everybody dies. No, really. And that’s not even half-way through.
In the evening was another D&D game - The Onyx Mirror. You know, I go into these things pretty hyped with a certain plan of accomplishing things, and a certain expectation of player actions (even accounting for a reasonable amount of deviation). And then I come out feeling berated, abused, and stupid. It’s no wonder nobody wants to run games for too long of a period.
A little detail on the meta-game: Bad Adam, for misconstruing Larry’s exodus to the toilet and for using the DMG when he’s not a DM. Also, I had planned to kill Sybilla (Larry) and did, and yet it worked out ok in spite of my history of killing characters out of hand. I feel bad about breaking Elmarik’s (Ken) ancestral bow, but the way I look at it, it adds a bit of his own history to it, rather than just a notch of “I killed this”.
For the record- You guys weren’t supposed to kill the nightwalkers, and because you were too stupid to run with the artifact once you had it, I had to reign them in, and so - no, Dave, you really won’t be getting double the XP, you uber-munchkin. Besides, you willingly gave up your oh-so-expensive weapons, bleating the whole time about how this can’t possibly be a good idea. And here, I’ll spare you the torment of it all: The ancestors of the original merchants knew why they couldn’t let the miners leave, and rather than worry their children with their inability to correctly fall back into the flow of time, they left a legacy that turned them evil. Nobody survives. This is bad for you, and you’ll see how if you really think about it.
Sunday was a wash. We bought a model rocket to try to launch but Abby fell asleep. A grocery shopping trip later and we’re off to bed. Or writing Exhibit 1.0c code, whichever.
There will come a day when, through all of this practice, I will no longer require sleep.
