On our way to see the wood elves, we encountered a series of strange idols jutting out of the sand. These malformed heads, either the work of some ancient civilization or an art major, marked the way toward civilization. At the last of these there seemed to be a jumble of shambling figures wandering at the edge of a pit. Zombies. Behind them were a group of necromancers – one seemed eerily similar to the thief we had been pursuing from the arena, but there was no time to investigate.
The accursed creature summoned what looked like a giant glowing snot with swords. As the nasty-ass abomination began to take form, the zombies likewise took notice and began to shamble over towards us. The majority fell into the pit or were decimated by Gilda’s Flying Axes of Death, but no amount of swords or arrow strikes could keep the summoner from finishing his work.
The Desert Snot essentially leveled our party. It was the combat equivalent of being sodomized with a piece of desert shale.
So Garik threw the dice, and we are off toward some known realm. It’s a blessing, really, what with the fact that we ran out of water three days ago and yet are completely fine, or that we seem to be getting distracted by every stick and rock we seem to come across.
Although…if we end up smack in the middle of the Hraken Empire, I may just find a use for that piece of desert shale in my pocket.