The Great Mong

I played a barb, the Great Mong, again thick of head and muscle, who favored large pointy objects, and I was in a party of stout heroes as always, looting a dungeon crawl. We were of midling level, and proud. Anywho, we were in a catacomb looking for a vampiric evil doer, of some sort, most assuredly magic wielding.

We came upon a door unlike most others, and being the Great Mong I tried the kick the door open and fell short. Hideous laughter rang out from behind the door. We were taunted, and our manhood called into question. The Great Mong could not abide being called a coward, and soon, the door exploded in splinters of oak.

I raged inside arms and eyes bulging. 'No villian could be seen" our GM (mike) stated. Ah Ha! The Great Mong could not be fooled. Our villian had become invisible to the naked eye. I shouted a warning and whirled into the room. I attacked nearly everything, the wooden table, the large throne- like chair, the bed, the tapestries, only to be met with more laughter and taunting.

Whilst I chopped the furniture into kindling, my compatriots made more logical plans. Silverthorn the Elf wanted to sprinkle elf dust and check for footprints. The enigmatic Log wanted to use oil and fireball the room so we might see our foe ablaze. Our rear guard Hjognir the Axe and our thief, Philo, belayed their instincts to help.

Needless to say we exhausted several strategies and about an hour of game time, chasing carefully hidden magic mouth spells around a room, rather than any villian. The Vampire did surprize the rear guard with some silent moving undead before we used all of our spells attacking inanimate objects, and despite losing two party members, we were victorious.

We limped out of the dungeon nearly dead, and having lost our priest, ran away at great speed from any potentially life threatening encounter. The Great Mong was vigilant in his quest for fortune and glory, and was indeed dubbed the Great Mong Sword Slashing Shitstorm of Death by the townsfolk. I later partied with barbarianesses that looked like this, telling them tales of lost commrades, and bespelled peices of furniture, as the Great Mong fought off the very Right Hand of Doom.

And it was good. Conan was confused as to what was best in life.