You are nearly naked in a frozen wasteland with a lion bearing down on you. This is absolutely without a doubt the worst day of your life.
And the way things are going, it might be the last day of your life. You can’t fight a lion. You’re not even sure you can outrun one.
Don’t undersell yourself, you didn’t become the Dungeon Lord by running away from lions. You’ve slain animals that haven’t even been discovered yet. Remember the time you captured and tamed the tentacle beast of Hen’taii for use in the deepest pits of your dungeon? I mean, things didn’t really turn out how you’d intended, but it was still an impressive feat.
Anyway, put the lion in a wrestling grip of your own devising, make it submit, then mount it and ride it all night. ~ipsenscastle
You’d forgotten about the tentacle beast. That really puts things in perspective…
This is absolutely without a doubt the second worst day of your life.
Let us examine the facts:
1. The nearest snowfield is implausibly far away.
2. Lions are usually native to warmer climes.
3. Your garb is also suited to warmer climes, and yet the cold has yet to give you any serious problems.
4. Your head was on a pillow when you woke up. Perhaps a snowy pillow, but a pillow nonetheless.
Please take a moment to ascertain whether the snow is, in fact, actually snow.
Oh, and if the lion attacks, maybe consider dodging. ~Analytical Rigor
To cover those points in order:
- The nearest snowfield was far away last time you checked, but evidently during a drunken stupour you pranced across hill and vale atop a majestic white unicorn that pees rainbows. What part of that is so implausible???
- This lion might not be native. It might be on holiday.
- You haven’t exactly been dwelling on this because you’ve got more pressing things to deal with just now, but it’s cold. It’s flipping cold. You would be freezing your nipples off if you hadn’t already lost them to the fondling suckers of…nevermind.
- It wasn’t a snowy pillow, it was a pillow made of snow. If you can craft a wizard-proof rope trap from goblin armpit hair, you’re pretty sure you can mold a squishy, white block out of squishy white material.
That said, the more you think about it, the more this whole situation does seem unusually unfortunate, even for you. Could this all just be a horrible, horrible dream? There’s only one way to be sure. You scoop up some snow and give it a taste. No time to be suspicious of the vibrant rainbow colour scheme!
Yep. Not only is this real snow, it’s the exact patch where you must have spilled your Nuclear Rainbow Cocktail. Say what you like about elves—and you do, frequently—but Fernando’s cocktails are as mean as his putdowns. You’d add a point of intoxication to your Adventure Sheet, but apparently last night you started cheating.
You’re not sure it’s possible to gain money and skills by writing them into what’s essentially a glorified census form, but even if it is then you think they’d probably have to be more legible than this. Your Adventure Sheet is ruined: remove it from your Adventure Sheet.
It occurs to you that you’ve now spent a lot of time faffing with snow and paperwork, and that you should probably check up on the whole lion situation.
The situation has not improved. You feel like you should probably be doing something about this, but you’re not sure what.
Take another look at that unicorn. Is it the sissy kind, you know, frolics through flowery meadows and can only be touched by virgins (if so, how did it carry you here…?), or is it the bloodthirsty spears-you-on-its-one-horn-in-the-blink-of-an-eye kind? If the latter, it might be useful in anti-lion combat.
If it’s the first kind, I guess you’re on your own. Hopefully someone else has a good suggestion! ~500woerterdiewoche
This is not the kind of unicorn that would be useful in anti-lion combat. As for how it carried you here, you’re…not entirely sure. But clearly it must have, since there’s absolutely no other way you could have got this far from your usual sinister domain.
If the lion decides you look tasty, try to hide behind the unicorn. If the unicorn protests, remind it that lions are the natural enemy of unicorns and it needs to restore its honor after that whole being-beat-up thing in the past. Hopefully they’ll either go after each other again, or get tied up arguing over which tea goes better with bread and plum pudding. ~Denita TwoDragons
That whole idea sounds extremely unlikely to work. Still, it’s pretty much all you’ve got at this point.
You remind the unicorn of the age-old emnity between its kind and this so-called king of beasts.
The unicorn informs you that actually, he and the lion are…very close friends. Absolutely, positively, certainly not more than friends, you understand, but close enough friends that they’re not going to let some silly nursery rhyme come between them.
Well, if this wasn’t going to get ugly before, it is now.
Might the lion trigger another unhelpful flashback..? Something about you and Büzenpüken travelling deep into the back of the nightclub’s cloakroom, pushing through coats and eventually finding snow underfoot? You turn to Büzenpüken and ask if he’s ever been in a closet like this, and he says he hasn’t been in a closet since he was 16…
Büzenpüken! Is he with you? Can he help with the lion? ~SCFrankles
Büzenpüken might actually BE the lion, it’s snowy and they have exactly the same silhouette. Maybe take a closer look before resorting to violence? ~ipsenscastle
Okay, both you people are totally crazy. First of all, there is no way that Büzenpüken is the lion.
NOT THE SAME PERSON.
First of all, Büzenpüken is a super-manly barbarian bodyguard: there’s no way he’d be friends with a sissy unicorn. Secondly, he would have said something by now. Thirdly, HE’S NOT A LION. You only hired him yesterday, you’re pretty sure you remember what species he is.
But the whole cloakroom idea, that’s really ridiculous. Whoever heard of anybody stepping into a wardrobe and finding an entire, snow-covered…
Oh, wait, that is what happened.
Wibble wobble wibble wobble wibble wobble….
You recall Fernando offering you lots of lovely free drinks: Goldschlonger, Sacke, Jerkinoff, Yankermeister…
You tell him you’d be happy to get anything in you as long as it’s stiff. Preferably long and stiff.
Fernando laughs at that.
You ask what’s so funny, and he points out that a long drink contains a proportionally large amount of mixer with a low concentration of alcohol, while a stiff drink is one with little (if any) mixer and a high concentration of alcohol. It is simply not possible for a drink to be both long and stiff. You have a lot to learn about cocktails.
You ask if he can teach you.
Passing you a drink, Fernando explains that he could, but he won’t. He still thinks you’re kind of a jerk. Also, even if he wanted to it would take years for him to turn you into a master of mixology. He gets the impression you want to start up your nightclub right freakin’ now.
You admit that yes, that would be nice.
Fortunately, Fernando knows of a way that you can get yourself a top-notch bartender and help him out at the same time. He’s got this friend, you see—actually the very same friend who taught him to mix drinks—only he’s been going through some…identity issues. He’s never properly been part of the real world, but lately he seems to have shut himself away even more than usual. He’s a great guy, but he’s a little bit…different.
Fernando pours another drink for you. He tells you how he’s tried many, many times to explain to this friend how everyone will accept him no matter what, but he’s just never taken it to heart.
Fernando doesn’t like to make assumptions, but he thinks you might have an easier time getting through to him. Because reasons.
You ask where you can frind this fend of his.
Fernando explains that this might sound crazy—so have another cocktail—but his friend lives in the closet. Way, way back in the closet. It would be funny if it weren’t so sad.
You exsplain that you’re not sure why that would be funny or sad: it just sounds totally implausibible. Still, you’re not sure why, but right now you fell hippy just to go along with it.
Fernandos seem like a trustworthy guys. You ask him what…what their friend look likes.
As they leads you to the cloakroom, Fernandos assures you that you’ll know him when you see him.
You remember stumbling through the closet doors, Nuclear Rainbow Cocktail in hand…
Wobble wibble wobble wibble wobble wibble…
…and obviously that’s it.
You are here to have a deep, meaningful conversation with a man-eating lion, and you have already dissed it in front of its unicorn friend. Besides unscrumpling your Adventure Sheet and adding “chair” and “whip” into the inventory section, you are totally out of ideas.
Leave your suggestions in the comments below, or tweet @BlackThroneNews.