"In a fit of crying and flap-wetting..."

Jay and I took the opportunity to practice our D&D skills tonight. He planned a brief (and satisfyingly blood-splattered) encounter for Iannan and Naja, the cleric 'n' barbarian comedy duo we rolled at Asgard last Tuesday. We both got a chance to revisit the mechanics of the game and I am pleased to report that things are starting to Make More Sense to my liberal-arts-addled brain. The slower pace helped since I could stop and ask questions without feeling like I was slowing down the pros. (Not that the folks we played with at Asgard weren't 100% stupendous and patient when it came to my questions...I just hate being the one who doesn't know the rules, and playing with just Jay let me see, step-by-step, what we were rolling for and why. And hell, he's a beginner too. So there was less shame.)

(Less shame, but still some. Puppy does not approve of these shenanigans. Clearly she thinks we should be spending our time grinding rep with the Sons of Hodir and preparing to raid Naxx or something. Silly puppy!)

Jay is the coolest person ever because he actually took the time to craft delightful figurines out of polymer clay. He made both Naja and Iannan. They are very fierce, and by fierce I mean "adorable."


(Naja L, Iannan R. This picture turned out murkier than I realized.) If your eyes are good you'll notice Iannan's shield is decorated with a raven and Naja's greataxe is...shaped like a raven. Glee.

The premise was that Iannan and Naja were wandering around (probably talking about how cool the Raven Queen is) when they were approached by villagers. Unknown beasties had been rummaging through peoples' belongings and the townsfolk assumed the thieves were holed up in the mysterious old mausoleum just outside town. They asked Naja and Iannan to investigate so off we went.


When we'd entered the mausoleum and could finally perceive our enemies...Jay revealed that he'd sculpted a nice little band of naughty goblins for Naja and Iannan to fight.



The chief goblin was a formidable foe, videlicet:



Yes, that's a loincloth he's sporting. His minions refer to him, in tones of hushed awe, as the Flap-Wearer.


Eventually the Flap-Wearer was reduced to a rust-colored smear on the mausoleum floor.



Iannan and Naja skipped merrily back to town to celebrate, probably with flagons of Red Bull and trenchers of po'boy sammiches. Huzzah!



Getting to use my excruciatingly fancy dice was so much more exciting than I ought to let on. They're SO PRETTY.