Swim AWAY from the hot watery stew of Death. No, the other away
It is weird how people’s minds work when we are in groups. Freaky even. People who are individually bright, charming, and competent can become utterly the opposite, simply by combining them together.
Last night is a perfect example. We have a group of Halfling Commandos (and friends) that are bubbling their way up through the Heroic levels again and have reached the Demon Queen raid. This first requires Against the Demon Queen, and so there we found ourselves, again, a quest that we used to run two or three times a week, but is now made strange by time and distance.
Most of us have forgotten the jumping techniques needed for the scorpion chest, and most of us do not have the patience to relearn. The chest is simply not as attractive as it once was, especially in it’s Heroic incarnation.
But I digress. Eventually we are facing the Octopus portion of the quest. “Wait,” Say I, as we approach the spinning underwater Cuisinart blade trap, “we’ll turn off the blades”. Since we are the Halfling Commandos, that sentence was immediately punctuated by a <DING> as our cleric swims directly into the blades and dies.
But no worries, my Gamer Girl is on her rogue and turning off the blades is not a problem, nor is retrieving our cleric’s Soulstone, next to the now-inert shaft that no longer slices the nearby water and watery occupants into a hot stew of Death.
Shortly, five of us are all pressing against a locked door, waiting for it to open so that we can throw the switch behind it and open the gateway that continues the quest.
And we are pressing and waiting … and pressing and waiting …
“Did anyone grab the key”?
No, of course not, we all assumed that everyone else would.
I go back for the key, return, unlock the door. It is slow to open, and I have our cleric’s Soulstone and want to get her back up so she can loot before we are too far away from the hidden-secret-door-in-the-floor chest. I hurry back across the spindle trap room and into the now-opened corridor that leads to dry hallway and eventually, to the Octopus section miniboss Rakshasha.
Except the hallway isn’t opened yet. Huh? I look around, here are all of my companions, also pressing up against the closed gateway into the hallway.
Waiting and pressing … and waiting and pressing …
“Ummm …” I begin, but everyone finishes “did anyone throw the switch?”.
Nope, of course not, all of us eagerly stood at the locked door to the switch, waited for the door to be opened, and then turned about and swam away rather than advancing the one single inch needed to reach and throw the switch.
All of us. All five.
Meanwhile, the switch just sat there laughing at us
Fortunately one does not get style points at the end of the quest. Just XP and favor. Because we’d get a big fat zero, even from the friendly Canadian judge. Nil. Nada. None at all.
And yet we slog on, year after year, style-less as always.
Ten points for determination! No points for style.
🙂 😀 🙂