Re: Santa Ghoul strikes again!
Thank you all for playing..... I see none of you heeded the warning that is the very last line on the opening message. Excellent!
In reverse order of choice then....
Elan picks up a bootbrush... at the same time that Autolycas reaches for it. The thing chuckles evilly and proceeds to divide itself into thirds. One third attacks Elan, one third attacks Autolycas, and the third shouts,
"DIRTY SHOES! DIRTY BOOTS!
"CLEAN THE MUCK OFF THE SLIME AND BOOTS!
"HAVE AT THEE THEN, YOU TWO MIGHT SCOFF,
"BUT THIS POLISH WON'T COME OFF!!!"
At the end of the little ditty, all three pieces disappear.
The two are covered in bootblack.... that resists washing off despite many attempts.
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Calen picks up a ball of string. As he is looking at it, it begins to drip green-brown ichor with a smell reminiscient of a dead body left out in the sun for far, far too long. The ichor seeps into his skin.
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Elderon smiles as he picks up a mace with a tulip flower as the head. Then there is a truly enormous human dressed in bearskins next to him scowling, hands the size of dinner platters reaching for the mace. The mace head splits into two flowers and sprays them both down liberally with a fluid that starts off smelling of the tulips.... but then turns seriously noxious, burning eyes, clogging noses with sudden mucus, and causing their mouths to pucker and uncontrollably salivate. The tulips turn into something resembling hands, gives each of the gagging men a pinch on the arse, murmuring, "Fine specimens of man-flesh." A throaty chuckle lingers as the mace disappears.
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Aston Karsk receives a small barrel marked 'Red River Pickles'. It is empty inside, but as he looks at it, water begins to well up - strong, pungent, and reeking of the pickles that used to be within. The small barrel quickly overflows and begins to make a mess of the area... as Aston moves away, the barrel moves with him. The acrid smell chases away his wolves.
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Kiley's hairpin causes no issues whatsoever... until the roots of her hair start to grow out green. Not the nice, gentle green of the elves, but the brilliant, shocking green of pus from a wound that has gone gangrenous. And that smell....
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Icylius takes up the sceptre and he begins to march. Anywhere he walks, it is with a ramrod back and sharp step, as if he is on parade. Only with great difficulty can he keep from swinging the sceptre around and whirling it in time to the drum sounds that have suddenly appeared to surround him, almost like some ghostly military band is following him around....
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Kriibli's doily takes an instant liking to her, attaching itself to her forehead and draping down across her face like an old woman's veil. It changes colors at random, black, white, cycling through primary colors, then pastels and tints.... lingering for several minutes on the more garish colors and combinations.
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It's too bad that no one chose the handkerchief or the handaxe. Actually, it's probably better that no one did. Since these are technically curses and not gifts, then the rules about doubles doesn't count. Santa Ghoul is sneaky!
And accepting gifts from someone who identifies himself as Santa Ghoul.... fun for the DM!
Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas on this the Eleventh Day of Christmas. Now I have to go see to finding some bagpipers. Attacking my local town with bagpipes is my idea of fun! 'Eleven pipers piping!'
