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annathepiperSo there Natil the Chaotic Female Elf Ranger is, venturing for the first time into the dungeon, and finding herself an orcish helm. Cursed. "Stupid cursed orcish helm," Natil thinks, and proceeds to try to fountain-dip to see if she can do something about this curse problem.
Out pops a friendly blue water demon, so elated at being let loose that he bestows a wish upon the startled she-elf. Being a sensible individual coming from a long line of sensible persons (despite it being whispered that 'Natil' in an obscure elvish dialect means 'She who is likely to be doomed as soon as she sets foot in the dungeon'), she immediately requests blessed +3 gray dragon scale mail. The demon happily forks over said item and vanishes.
"Gods," Natil thinks, "maybe I'll hang in there for a while after all on this stupid-ass mission my people have sent me on to find this Amulet!"
And, thusly arrayed in her stylish dragon scale mail, she proceeds to lay waste to the Gnomish Mines. Very quickly in, she finds a lamp lying abandoned on one of the highest levels--and is astounded to learn, when she reaches the Minetown, that it too is possessed of a sentience that can grant her a wish. This time it's a genie, and this time, she begs it for the boon of blessed +3 fireproof speed boots before it goes on its way. It is not quite as charitable as its water demon cousin; the boots are proofed against the flame, but bear no enchantment. Natil takes them away, being, after all, sensible.
On the way down her loyal albeit small hound Varden runs afoul of a polymorph trap and is turned into a monkey--a distressing state of affairs for our heroine, who is fresh out of bananas. However, attempts to rectify this situation with a newly discovered wand of polymorph leave poor Varden as a lichen, possibly the most useless quest companion in existence. Except maybe various kinds of mold, since at least Varden can still actually move. (How, Natil tries very hard not to think, as mobile lichen kind of creep her out. But she digresses.)
Courtesy of a well-armored dwarf, she finishes decking herself out in various and sundry shinies that protect the more fragile parts of her anatomy. And towards the bottom, she comes across a leocrotta lurking over the grave of a healer named Faanshi. "AIGH!" swears Natil, but she cleverly recalls that she is armed with a wand of sleep. One blast knocks out the beast, and lets her dispatch it. By way of a kindness (hey, she may be Chaotic, but she isn't cruel), she puts poor Faanshi's ghost out of her misery. And uh, oh yeah, relieves her of the misery of her loot, too.
Spoils in hand, she boogies down to the bottom level of the Mines, finds the luckstone, and boogies back out again with her slowpoke pet lichen in tow (or at least as much tow as she can mange with a magic whistle). The healer's gold, casually tossed to the priest of Venus in Minetown, buys her a bit of divine insurance, and she hopes that Mars somehow manages to miss that she's playing the Neutral side of the street in seeking out her protection.
Back out of the Mines, our heroine keeps her lichen in tow all the way down to Sokoban, which yields up its amulet of reflection with mercifully little effort. But alas, Varden the lichen decides he really would rather hang out on the floor of Sokoban's lowest level, and the magic whistle employed by his mistress loses its ability to coax him to the stairs.
"Oh well," Natil thinks in self-consolation, "at least he won't starve to death. The dungeon walls are pretty damp!" And she speeds downward, pet-free.
Down on level 9 she encounters a grid bug making surprisingly cat-like sounds, and it is that sign of a polymorphed pet that is her first warning that someone has been here before. This time it's the ghostly presence of a wizard, a human male, and though she puts the wretch out of his misery without effort, the mumak charging around the level gives her a bit more pause. But she is a Ranger armed with many arrows. And she is reassured to discover that several arrows from a distance make short work of even one of the monster mumakil.
She is stunned, yea, thunderstruck, at the riches that the unfortunate Harry the Wizard had collected... and so she delves into exploration of this new trove. It yields many wonders: a second enchanted lamp, a bag stuffed to impossible weight with far too many items to fit into such a tiny crafting, marvelous gauntlets to increase both power and grace. There are dozens of wands and potions and gemstones, far too many for her to carry in her own two hands and bags, taken with her prior trove from the healer.
And so Natil secrets herself away in a side room, locking the door against incursion, until she can safeguard a chest to hold all of these treasures. Those she knows she will not need she tucks immediately away. An enchanted marker and several blank scrolls lead to improvised identifying of many of the other treasures--and a cancelling wand gives her not only more blank scrolls to further that effort, but also water to take to the nearby altar to purify in prayer to mighty Mars.
Soon enough the lamp's curse is lifted, and its genie inhabitant is all too happy to provide another marker to aid the young Ranger's efforts to identify more and more of her treasures. Soon, too, the curse upon the enchanted bag is also lifted, and she can stash the most valuable of her finds into it to carry upon her belt. A pair of the new gauntlets are claimed for her hands, and she can feel new grace in her fingers as she dons them. For her body, over the gray dragon scales, she trades the cloak woven by her people for that of the wizard, to doubly armor herself against curses and spells.
At last she has only that which she is sure she will need. Her feet in their boots are swift, her fingers in their gauntlets sure, and she is unburdened.
She is ready for the next leg of her journey.
Wish her luck.
(x-posted between my journal and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
nethack)
Out pops a friendly blue water demon, so elated at being let loose that he bestows a wish upon the startled she-elf. Being a sensible individual coming from a long line of sensible persons (despite it being whispered that 'Natil' in an obscure elvish dialect means 'She who is likely to be doomed as soon as she sets foot in the dungeon'), she immediately requests blessed +3 gray dragon scale mail. The demon happily forks over said item and vanishes.
"Gods," Natil thinks, "maybe I'll hang in there for a while after all on this stupid-ass mission my people have sent me on to find this Amulet!"
And, thusly arrayed in her stylish dragon scale mail, she proceeds to lay waste to the Gnomish Mines. Very quickly in, she finds a lamp lying abandoned on one of the highest levels--and is astounded to learn, when she reaches the Minetown, that it too is possessed of a sentience that can grant her a wish. This time it's a genie, and this time, she begs it for the boon of blessed +3 fireproof speed boots before it goes on its way. It is not quite as charitable as its water demon cousin; the boots are proofed against the flame, but bear no enchantment. Natil takes them away, being, after all, sensible.
On the way down her loyal albeit small hound Varden runs afoul of a polymorph trap and is turned into a monkey--a distressing state of affairs for our heroine, who is fresh out of bananas. However, attempts to rectify this situation with a newly discovered wand of polymorph leave poor Varden as a lichen, possibly the most useless quest companion in existence. Except maybe various kinds of mold, since at least Varden can still actually move. (How, Natil tries very hard not to think, as mobile lichen kind of creep her out. But she digresses.)
Courtesy of a well-armored dwarf, she finishes decking herself out in various and sundry shinies that protect the more fragile parts of her anatomy. And towards the bottom, she comes across a leocrotta lurking over the grave of a healer named Faanshi. "AIGH!" swears Natil, but she cleverly recalls that she is armed with a wand of sleep. One blast knocks out the beast, and lets her dispatch it. By way of a kindness (hey, she may be Chaotic, but she isn't cruel), she puts poor Faanshi's ghost out of her misery. And uh, oh yeah, relieves her of the misery of her loot, too.
Spoils in hand, she boogies down to the bottom level of the Mines, finds the luckstone, and boogies back out again with her slowpoke pet lichen in tow (or at least as much tow as she can mange with a magic whistle). The healer's gold, casually tossed to the priest of Venus in Minetown, buys her a bit of divine insurance, and she hopes that Mars somehow manages to miss that she's playing the Neutral side of the street in seeking out her protection.
Back out of the Mines, our heroine keeps her lichen in tow all the way down to Sokoban, which yields up its amulet of reflection with mercifully little effort. But alas, Varden the lichen decides he really would rather hang out on the floor of Sokoban's lowest level, and the magic whistle employed by his mistress loses its ability to coax him to the stairs.
"Oh well," Natil thinks in self-consolation, "at least he won't starve to death. The dungeon walls are pretty damp!" And she speeds downward, pet-free.
Down on level 9 she encounters a grid bug making surprisingly cat-like sounds, and it is that sign of a polymorphed pet that is her first warning that someone has been here before. This time it's the ghostly presence of a wizard, a human male, and though she puts the wretch out of his misery without effort, the mumak charging around the level gives her a bit more pause. But she is a Ranger armed with many arrows. And she is reassured to discover that several arrows from a distance make short work of even one of the monster mumakil.
She is stunned, yea, thunderstruck, at the riches that the unfortunate Harry the Wizard had collected... and so she delves into exploration of this new trove. It yields many wonders: a second enchanted lamp, a bag stuffed to impossible weight with far too many items to fit into such a tiny crafting, marvelous gauntlets to increase both power and grace. There are dozens of wands and potions and gemstones, far too many for her to carry in her own two hands and bags, taken with her prior trove from the healer.
And so Natil secrets herself away in a side room, locking the door against incursion, until she can safeguard a chest to hold all of these treasures. Those she knows she will not need she tucks immediately away. An enchanted marker and several blank scrolls lead to improvised identifying of many of the other treasures--and a cancelling wand gives her not only more blank scrolls to further that effort, but also water to take to the nearby altar to purify in prayer to mighty Mars.
Soon enough the lamp's curse is lifted, and its genie inhabitant is all too happy to provide another marker to aid the young Ranger's efforts to identify more and more of her treasures. Soon, too, the curse upon the enchanted bag is also lifted, and she can stash the most valuable of her finds into it to carry upon her belt. A pair of the new gauntlets are claimed for her hands, and she can feel new grace in her fingers as she dons them. For her body, over the gray dragon scales, she trades the cloak woven by her people for that of the wizard, to doubly armor herself against curses and spells.
At last she has only that which she is sure she will need. Her feet in their boots are swift, her fingers in their gauntlets sure, and she is unburdened.
She is ready for the next leg of her journey.
Wish her luck.
(x-posted between my journal and
nethack)