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Dungeoneering


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Noticing that his skeleton is behind, he tells it to hold back, and approach slowly. Igos then leaps at the highwayman and attempts to tackle him.

The sour dough of the epitmous pie hungers for another's sweet lips to be dulled into a state of most irreverant humbleness

TUBULAR BELLS!

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Kemios, you are teleported back to the town. You don't lose items, but they can be stolen from you at any time(Though that is a rare random...from other people its not that rare)

Well I knew you wouldn't agree. I know how you hate facing facts.

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Igos knocks the highwayman to the ground, but he highwayman, fast on his feet, gets back up and runs on.

 

(The skeleton has to stay within range of your magic)

Well I knew you wouldn't agree. I know how you hate facing facts.

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Kemios locates his slashes.

(Pick odds or evens and say which way you want to go(towards the goblin or home). If you guess right you go to where you want to go, if not you go to the other place.

Well I knew you wouldn't agree. I know how you hate facing facts.

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Igos retreats, and returns to the campfire where he was attacked. He finds a piece of wood that would make a good torch, and trys to use pyrokinesis to light it. He also begins searching for the dagger, and instructs his skeleton to do so as well.

The sour dough of the epitmous pie hungers for another's sweet lips to be dulled into a state of most irreverant humbleness

TUBULAR BELLS!

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Igos returns to the boneyard, and then begins to repair any damage that the skeleton attained during the chase.

The sour dough of the epitmous pie hungers for another's sweet lips to be dulled into a state of most irreverant humbleness

TUBULAR BELLS!

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Kemios-

At the very last moment before the goblin breathed its last(The third roll) you healed it.

The Goblin looks up at you with a look of panic on its face and it tries to wriggle free.

Well I knew you wouldn't agree. I know how you hate facing facts.

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Igos then attempts to add on to the skeleton follower, trying to make it a bone golem of some sorts.

The sour dough of the epitmous pie hungers for another's sweet lips to be dulled into a state of most irreverant humbleness

TUBULAR BELLS!

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