As with any hunt, the hunters will talk about their prowess as they recount the notable events of the day. As the Happy Muggers revisit our day, it’s interesting to hear the gradual change in the stories. Some, like fishermen, have stories that grow more grand with each retelling. Others in our little group recount the events of the day with a heavy heart, not at peace with the idea of killing. One part of the story, however, seems to remain consistent, no matter the teller. This part of the story is told and retold with enthusiasm by each. I wince every time the subject comes up again: The Drow fell into a pit.
OK… it’s true. I did fall into a pit. But come on! Is this really my noteworthy contribution of the entire hunt? Did they miss it when I performed a back handspring triple Salchow combination with a half twist while plunging my dagger deep into what appeared to be a living blob of molten lava? Apparently. Was no one looking when I scrambled in, around, and through giant spider webs as if I had 8 legs myself? Clearly not. What did they notice??? They noticed that D’caf fell down a pit.
Perhaps I had to slay an enemy just beyond the door. Perhaps I slipped in a pool of his blood. Maybe I was forced into the pit by sinister magicks. No one in the group knows, because no one else was courageous enough to go through the door! Just me, versus a couple of snipers. (except not so much. Thank you stupid pit.) The point is, I damn near broke my leg, and everyone was too busy laughing to find out how. Thank you, Happy Muggers. Thank you for your concern.