miladygrey (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
miladygrey) wrote2019-09-13 11:19 am
miladygrey) wrote2019-09-13 11:19 am
The fellowship of the snark
We played Adventures in Middle Earth last night (schedule's gone wonky due to various peoples' RL, we just try and fit in a session every ten days or so as best we can), and the usual shenanigans ensued.
Grim the Hobbit: While everyone is scouting, I will stay back at camp and make dinner.
Tolman the Hobbit: Don't touch my mushrooms.
Grim: These are camp mushrooms, sir.
Tolman: I have counted them. I know every mushroom in the mushroom box.
Yeats, the GM: Of course hobbits would have a mushroom box.
Tolman: Grim and I each have a key, and they must be inserted and turned simultaneously.
Asantir the Elf (me): What happens if only one tries?
Tolman: Lockdown is initiated, and the Rider of Rohan makes dinner.
Aethelfred the Rider: Grass soup for everyone! My horse loves it!
Yeats the GM has caught us in a magical trap where we're all getting angry at someone else in the party. Asantir is focusing all her ire on Amandil the human Ranger.
Asantir: We wouldn't even be here if you Rangers would just do your jobs. Idiot humans who can't even smile or bathe once in a while, and why do you need all that rope anyway, good elven hithlain is wasted on you--
Amandil: Now, Asantir, calm down, you're so much prettier when you smile.
Everyone else: ...O_O
Asantir: *eyes bulge*
Altan the Dwarf Warden: I am going to play a soothing song right the hell now.
Asantir: I have a +1 dagger and I am not afraid to use it no matter how many shadow points it gets me!
Yeats, laughing so hard he can barely talk: I'm not sure I would give you shadow points for that.
Asantir: I use my fingers to prop up the corners of my mouth and glare at him.
Altan: Soothing song! Soothing song!
Yeats: Everyone make a wisdom saving throw at advantage due to Altan's musical stylings.
Back in Rivendell, reporting our findings to Elrond.
Asantir: Hey, is Elrohir around as well? (Asantir flirted like mad with Elrohir the last time she was in Rivendell. Hey, go big or go home.)
Yeats: Nope, Elrond says Elrohir and Elladan are out on orc patrol.
Asantir: Too bad. I was going to up my game.
Grim: Hand-holding in the moonlight?
Asantir: Even better. Prolonged eye contact.
Anaranye the Grumpy Older Elf: You hussy.
I'm sure Tolkien is gently vibrating in his grave, but we're all having fun.
Reading Log: Sapphire Flames by Ilona Andrews; People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks; Me, Him, Them and It by Caela Carter; Scorch Dragons by Amie Kaufman
Grim the Hobbit: While everyone is scouting, I will stay back at camp and make dinner.
Tolman the Hobbit: Don't touch my mushrooms.
Grim: These are camp mushrooms, sir.
Tolman: I have counted them. I know every mushroom in the mushroom box.
Yeats, the GM: Of course hobbits would have a mushroom box.
Tolman: Grim and I each have a key, and they must be inserted and turned simultaneously.
Asantir the Elf (me): What happens if only one tries?
Tolman: Lockdown is initiated, and the Rider of Rohan makes dinner.
Aethelfred the Rider: Grass soup for everyone! My horse loves it!
Yeats the GM has caught us in a magical trap where we're all getting angry at someone else in the party. Asantir is focusing all her ire on Amandil the human Ranger.
Asantir: We wouldn't even be here if you Rangers would just do your jobs. Idiot humans who can't even smile or bathe once in a while, and why do you need all that rope anyway, good elven hithlain is wasted on you--
Amandil: Now, Asantir, calm down, you're so much prettier when you smile.
Everyone else: ...O_O
Asantir: *eyes bulge*
Altan the Dwarf Warden: I am going to play a soothing song right the hell now.
Asantir: I have a +1 dagger and I am not afraid to use it no matter how many shadow points it gets me!
Yeats, laughing so hard he can barely talk: I'm not sure I would give you shadow points for that.
Asantir: I use my fingers to prop up the corners of my mouth and glare at him.
Altan: Soothing song! Soothing song!
Yeats: Everyone make a wisdom saving throw at advantage due to Altan's musical stylings.
Back in Rivendell, reporting our findings to Elrond.
Asantir: Hey, is Elrohir around as well? (Asantir flirted like mad with Elrohir the last time she was in Rivendell. Hey, go big or go home.)
Yeats: Nope, Elrond says Elrohir and Elladan are out on orc patrol.
Asantir: Too bad. I was going to up my game.
Grim: Hand-holding in the moonlight?
Asantir: Even better. Prolonged eye contact.
Anaranye the Grumpy Older Elf: You hussy.
I'm sure Tolkien is gently vibrating in his grave, but we're all having fun.
Reading Log: Sapphire Flames by Ilona Andrews; People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks; Me, Him, Them and It by Caela Carter; Scorch Dragons by Amie Kaufman