Sep 16, 2010

It isn't evil if they trample THEMSELVES...

Tribby gently adjusted her slumbering Dragoon, and wiped a bit of his drool from her shoulder.  They sure didn't look heavy, but, after a while, the lil' fellers really took their toll.

Jay El and his necrotic merry band huddled around Tribby, and whispered their plans in hushed voices, occasionally making sure that the slaves of various races and languages were following the gist.

Thankfully, it was a fairly straightforward plan, which those who did not speak any common language, would still be able to pick up within a few beats.

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAGGGH!!!" Tribby screamed, brandishing her club and swinging it at nothing in particular as she ran into the room.

"YO HO!" Jay El yelled after her, his necrotic followers hissing and swiping.

"Run a lot!"
"Ach, and bippy!"
and other related phrases were all yelled by the slaves.  The collective collaboration of cantankerous cacophony cleared the cluttered catacombs in a wash of utter panic and terror.

While not quite Godzilla-esque in its level of panic, it was close enough; the Kobolds dispersed, trampling their friends, babies and other loved ones in the process.

Though nobody would ever ask them, it was the most fun the undead had experienced in over 300 years.

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