![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
So, it turns out that the disreputable old lady who told us to go dig in the graveyard was in fact leading us into a trap, as expected. Which we triggered, as expected. One of our few combat-competent characters managed to get hit by a petrifaction curse and two wights jumped the rest of us... not good.
I stood back and spent most of the fight trying unsuccessfully to turn them. Well, not so much 'turn' as 'that other thing some clerics do that uses pretty much the same rules'. I then tried to hit them with sticks. In the end, I did not actually manage to affect the outcome of the combat in any way, which is something of a first even by my standards. I did, however, share in the 'wight' jokes that were flying thick and fast:
"What are these wights wearing?"
"Old, rotted robes, they would have been valuable once."
"Are they the sort of thing chivalry would wear?"
"...why?"
"Well, are they wights in knight satin?"
Fortunately, we'd enlisted the services of a barbarian with a big scythe (is it just me, or are barbarians overcompensating?) and he managed to chop up the wights, while the rest of the party nickel-and-dime-d them with 1-point attacks. Go us!
Then we freed the ranger from the curse, and made plans to go back to town and 'express our gratitude' to the lady who set us up for this*. But we did get a valuable plot token out of the deal, hooray!
*Hyadis is a very nice person, on the whole, but given sufficient provocation her ideas of justice tend to drift into "for the love of God, Montresor!" territory.
I stood back and spent most of the fight trying unsuccessfully to turn them. Well, not so much 'turn' as 'that other thing some clerics do that uses pretty much the same rules'. I then tried to hit them with sticks. In the end, I did not actually manage to affect the outcome of the combat in any way, which is something of a first even by my standards. I did, however, share in the 'wight' jokes that were flying thick and fast:
"What are these wights wearing?"
"Old, rotted robes, they would have been valuable once."
"Are they the sort of thing chivalry would wear?"
"...why?"
"Well, are they wights in knight satin?"
Fortunately, we'd enlisted the services of a barbarian with a big scythe (is it just me, or are barbarians overcompensating?) and he managed to chop up the wights, while the rest of the party nickel-and-dime-d them with 1-point attacks. Go us!
Then we freed the ranger from the curse, and made plans to go back to town and 'express our gratitude' to the lady who set us up for this*. But we did get a valuable plot token out of the deal, hooray!
*Hyadis is a very nice person, on the whole, but given sufficient provocation her ideas of justice tend to drift into "for the love of God, Montresor!" territory.
