I was going to post some bullshit feature about cats being in love with dogs, or why my penis is stuck in a car door, but I don’t feel like it today. I find the election results devastating and I have a stomachache the size of the cancerous tumor currently growing in your brain.
I can’t put any effort into this blog today.
Maybe tomorrow.
But right now, no.
Fuck off, America.
The girls do a lot of talkin’!
Egwene, Nynaeve, and Elayne pore over their Black Ajah documents and ask questions!
Egwene thinks of the dreams she’s had lately; Seanchan, Whitecloaks tying up her father’s hands, Rand walking into a big scary, fiery mountain, Perrin with a falcon, Perrin with a hawk, Perrin with a wolf army, Mat hanged on a tree She wonders if these mean anything (they will, guaranteed, but I’ll forget about this immediately after I write it), and remembers learning that a Dreamer’s dreams about ta’veren are usually some true shit. She shudders.
Nynaeve paces up and down the room, wondering if they were given garbage leads on purpose by the sneaky, sneaky Verin. Elayne decides that the thirteen members of the Black Ajah are too diverse to not be deliberate. Nynaeve finds some importance to this as well. It is surmised that there must still be some Black Ajah in the tower. Egwene argues, and after about two pages of “yes it is” and “no it ain’t”, they move onto the list of ter’angreal.
Notable about the ter’angreal, besides that they seem to be a litany of underwhelming objects, is that almost all of them have been last studied by Corianin Nedeal. The same Corianin Nedeal that had Egwene’s new ter’angreal ring in her possession for most of her life. The only item on the list not studied by her is a black rod that produces balefire, which is apparently so dangerous that Verin scribbled “DANGEROUS” in the notes! That’s pretty dangerous! Also, an object shaped like dice that Mat would like; it alters luck and chance. A thousand flips of the coin and it’ll land on heads a thousand times, it will!
After a bit of time, they find Else standing in the doorway spying a little bit. She has a message from Siuan: Liandrin’s abandoned belongings are in the third room behind the fifth room to the left of the eight room on the right next to the kitchens in the attic under the basement. She leaves, and Egwene gives chase. She doesn’t run into Else in the stairway, oh no no no. It’s fucking Selene again, being cryptic and weird about prophecies. All she has to say is that Else is fast and Egwene won’t catch her. Egwene assumes Selene is Aes Sedai again, and, in true Selene fashion, she betrays a look of extreme annoyance.
Selene commands Egwene to turn around and leave, and Egwene is compelled to do so. When she turns around, Selene had vanished without a trace.
Welcome to Loneliness & Cheeseburgers Presents: Ultimate Spider-Man (Vol. 1), Issue #55 – “Hollywood (Part 2)”! In the previous installment, Aunt May is out of town for a week, so it’s too bad that MJ is grounded because she and Parker would be laying down the bone on an hourly basis otherwise.
They’re making a movie! A Spider-Man movie! Directed by Sam Raimi! Starring Tobey Maguire! Isn’t that fucking ridiculous? Peter Parker is not amused, not at all. This is going to be the fluff storyline.
Doc Ock’s arms have been confiscated by the government, but his arms can’t stay away from their master forever! And they don’t stay away from their master forever. And now Doc Ock has broken out of prison with his magic metal arms. And now he’s going to stick one up Parker’s butt! This is also going to be the fluff storyline.
The real storyline is Parker is going to bone town.
Doc Ock has shown up at the front door of a stranger’s house with a big, creepy smile. Just making chit-chat, complimenting the architectural design of the house, that sort of thing. Suddenly, there’s a crash and the man turns around to see a couple of metal arms lunging right toward him from the kitchen.
“I really do like your house,” Ock says darkly as the man gets a couple of metal arms shoved down his throat and the like.
Elsewhere, many people are auditioning to be the sap in the street who says “Look up in the sky, it’s Spider-Man!” After several people, it’s Kong’s turn. He gives it his best shot! All agog and shit. He gets the part, and he practically poops his pants with… mild, calm joy. “I’m in the movie?” he smiles.
Yeah fucking right. There ain’t no Kong in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man! Beat it.
The bald, fat kid brags to his friends the next day at school. He gets only one line and he gets paid a lot to do it! Flash really wants to know how much of that sweet-ass cash he gets to earn. Liz wants to know what his one line is. Flash thinks the line is lamesauce.
“Don’t ruin this for me,” says Kong.
“You gotta rewrite that,” says Flash.
“No, that’s the line.”
“Dude, you go in and, like, free-style it!”
Behind the group, Gwen glares and sulks. “So, is there, like, a part in the script where Spider-Man, like, kills my dad?!” she shouts. We get it, honey. Boo hoo, dead dad. Talk about something else for a change! Like hiking.
Spider-Men? Dads? I don’t follow.
Everyone stares at her like an elephant climbed out of her butt. She tears up and runs off. MJ and Parker decide to go talk to her about, like, you know, stuff. Parker, again (again and again), takes the opportunity to try to convince Gwen that it wasn’t actually Spider-Man who killed her dad, but she’s tried of hearing this SHIT from him. Yeah, ok, sure, the guy who was dressed as Spider-Man is now in jail and the real Spider-Man is still swinging around town, but Gwen doesn’t care. And why does Parker care so much in the first place? Does he have a boner for Spider-Man or something? Does he want to put his boner on Spider-Man’s boner so that they’re touching boners?
“This is all I think about twenty-four hours a day!! ALL DAY!! EVERY DAY! Some maniac in a costume killed my father!! And now they’re making a movie about him!! YAY!! SPIDER-MAN!! YAAYY!!” She walks away ranting while MJ and Parker are at a loss for words.
MJ tries to tell Peter that none of this is his fault, but he can’t help but feel pretty responsible about the whole thing. Maybe a tall chocolate milkshake and a fucking empanada. That would be quite choice.
Doc Ock, meanwhile, is in a cozy robe, in a living room that isn’t his, talking to himself about where the authorities may look for him first. They’ll go to Peter Parker first, then maybe his ex-wife who sold him out. Or the other way around? At any rate, he’s not going anywhere near Peter Parker yet. Not until the heat dies down. He’s all like “Yes, I said! The boy will be – no, I agree – the boy will be punished. I’m not arguing the point with you, the boy will be punished. I said it.”
Turns out that he’s talking to his arms. And his arms are arms, they are not mouths, so they can’t hold a real conversation. Doc Ock is loony toons, man. Real daffy stuff. And then his brain gets an idea! Oh, yes! Ha! Yes yes yes! A jacuzzi full of pudding, you say? No? Then let’s stick with another plan…
The TV has a news story about the movie and an interview with a paid consultant, Roselita Octavius.
He’s like a modern day Hamlet, except for all the Hamlet stuff, of course. Where’s my money?
Ock’s ex-wife starts calling him pathetic and he retaliates by flinging metal arms against the TV screen. Take that, Samsung!
As Gwen walks home, she has a feeling that she’s being followed by black cars, the kind that contain unseemly government agents. Aunt May calls when Gwen gets home, and Gwen tells her that everything is fiiiiiiine except for all the stuff that isn’t. Dead dad, et al. Through the kitchen window, she spots a guy spying on her from the top of a telephone pole. Then she notices a guy with a hat, sunglasses, and a headset pretending to trim hedges…
Movie production is in full force! Kong is dressed like a street tough, lookin’ quite fat. He says his line, everyone breaks for coffee. Spider-Man, the real Spider-Man, the Peter Parker Spider-Man, he’s clinging to the side of a nearby building watching the action. Avi Arad and Sam Raimi whisper to each other about what they’re going to do about it, which is nothing. They can’t do anything. They can’t make him go away and they can’t do nothin’ ‘bout it. One of Raimi’s assistants has some news to break: Doc Ock is loose! It’s not on the news, though. The government is keeping secrets again. Maybe if they’re lucky, he won’t come by and fuck with the set! Maybe if–
Oh.
Doc Ock creates quite the mischievous ruckus, to say the very least! Roselita is his target, and she’s gonna get whacked like Big Pussy!
“Roselita, darling…” Ock says, looking quite intimidating with the backdrop of fiery cars and smoke. “…I can’t tell you how disappointed we are with your actions of late. I thought maybe you and I should–”
THWAP! TACK! THWIP THWIP THWIP! THUP! THURP! THURP THURP TWURMP! WEBS! WEBS! THIRP THWIP THURNK!
“Oh no…” says Ock.
“Man, I can’t believe this!” says Spider-Man, who entered the fray with gusto.
“Oh no…” says Ock.
“You total jackass, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me…”
“Oh no…”
But Doc Ock regains composure, and now there’s a standoff for the ages!
Doc Ock has a stupid haircut and we’re recycling villains again? Come on, Bendis, you’re better than that!
Dungeons & Dragons is the world’s most famous tabletop role-playing game. There are elves and dice and dungeon masters who wear capes. I’m embarrassed for even playing this.
Disclaimer: I’m learning as I go. There is a 100% chance that I’ll fuck up, not take something seriously enough, and piss you off to no end. Get over it.
Welcome to Dungeons & Dragons – The Death Knight’s Squire! Last time our hero, Milhouse the Scholar, died while fighting giant spiders. D’oh! Instead of calling it a day, I’m going to rewind the clock and attempt to fight these spiders again.
What follows are some boring mechanics. Skip ahead past the bolded sections if you’re some sort of not-a-nerd guy or gal.
All right, Spiders. Prepare to meet your spider maker!
-Roll initiative = doesn’t matter because my party has but one person! Milhouse! Milhouse the Scholar!
-Milhouse has Magic Missile memorized, it can hit multiple targets, and the range is high as hell, so he’ll try casting this. For now, only on Spider #1. d20 + Intelligence + Proficiency = 15 + 3 + 4 = 22, which beats the Spider’s AC of 13. Dart 1 = 1d4 + 1 = 4. Dart 2 = 2. Dart 3 = 5. Total = 11. Spider #1 has 11 HP. That was easy. Bye bye, Spider #1.
-Spider #2 moves 40 ft. forward and is not within range for a melee attack.
-Milhouse moves 30 ft. forward and is within range for a melee attack. d20 + Strength + Proficiency = 4 – 1 + 4 = 7. Not good enough.
-Spider #2 is within range of a melee attack. d20 + Strength + 3 to hit = 17 + 1 + 3 = 21, so yeah, he hits me. 4 HP damage (bringing Milhouse down to 8 HP), then a DC 11 Constitution saving throw to prevent getting really poisoned. d20 + Constitution + Proficiency = 17 + 1 + 4 = 22. Additional 3 HP of damage, Milhouse is down to 5 HP.
-Milhouse does another melee attack. 17 -1 + 4 = 20. 1d6 = 3 HP. Spider #2 is down to 8 HP. Jesus Christ.
-Spider #2 tries again. 7 + 1 + 3 = 11. With my AC of 13, it doesn’t hit. Thank God.
-Ray of Frost time. d20 + Intelligence + Proficiency = 1 + 3 + 4 = 8. Boo.
-Spider +2 = 3 + 1 + 3 = 7. Hooray.
-Ray of Frost. 7 + 3 + 4 = 13. 1d8 = 3. Spider #2 is down to 5 HP.
-Spider +2 = 17 + 1 + 3 = 21 and I’m dead because the remaining damage (16) is greater than my total HP.
…
Well, let’s say that I defeated the spiders! Yeah, that’s how I’ll do it!
-Milhouse gains 100 XP
lol
Having handily slain the terrible, aggressive spiders, Milhouse breathes a sigh of relief. “Whew!” he says. “Time for a rest!” Milhouse traipses to a safe part of the wood, unrolls his bedroll, and takes a couple of hours to himself. After a time, he returns to the scene of the spider massacre, tears down the weak webs with his quarterstaff, and investigates the spiders’ remains. Off the path, he finds what look like bodies wrapped up in webs! Egad! Gross! Disgusting! Enough to — hey, look! That dead orc has 21 copper pieces and a dagger! Score! More searching reveals a heavy crossbow, of which he has no proficiency since Milhouse the Cute Little Elf is a wizard, and a Potion of Healing! What a haul. Milhouse dances a dainty little jig. That potion will come in handy if he starts getting wasted by more spiders.
After collecting his new equipment and items, Milhouse sets off on the path again.
Milhouse now needs to avoid more webs. Roll perception (DC 15). d20 + 0 = 7. Pffft.
Milhouse presses forward with reckless abandon, but luckily there are no traps in the area. He ought to be more careful next time lest he gets his fat leg caught in a rusty bear trap. “I ought to be more careful,” he thinks as he moves into a new area.
Check for traps? Roll perception (DC 18). Oof. d20 + 0 = 1. Ha! Catastrophic failure. He might as well stick his penis in a guillotine.
There are no more traps to be found, but Milhouse didn’t look very hard. No matter, he saunters forward and doesn’t get caught in a net or anything. Taking a swig of water from his pack, our young, intrepid elf feels on top of the world. Defeating those spiders has really put a pep in Milhouse’s step! In fact, when he comes across a tiny house in the clearing of the wood, he feels bold enough to investigate. It appears to be in rough shape; perhaps even abandoned. Vines snake up the sides of the slightly dilapidated hut. He approaches the front door… and stops in his tracks. “Perhaps I need to take a look around and make sure nothing is waiting to surprise me.”
It’s like a Hobbit house, with less grubby little filthy, hairy, awful people.
Again, Milhouse checks for traps. Roll perception (DC 15). d20 + 0 = 7. Oh well, he had a 25% chance.
As far as Milhouse’s beady little eyes can see, there don’t seem to be any traps on or around the front door (unless there is a bucket of water perched on top waiting to fall on his head! Hahaha!), so, cautiously, his pushes the rickety wooden door open.
The first thing that he notices is a crackling fire burning in the hearth. “Odd,” he says, looking around. “No one appears to be home.” He takes a few steps into the main living area and notices a strange, unsettling smell…
Suddenly, it feels as though a giant invisible hand is crushing Milhouse’s skull! “Ahhhhh!!” he yelps. “Ahhhhh, it hurts! What is going on??” The force of the invisible pressure is unrelenting. Within moments, Milhouse blacks out…
…and wakes up several hours later. The room is still empty. It appears to be nighttime outside, but it’s hard to tell without windows or openings in the walls. Milhouse realizes that the strange odor smells like burning embers. He finally gets a good look around the nearly-empty room. A couple of chairs sit against a simple table. Surveying the room, he sees nothing of interest, no precious objects to pillage, and no food.
The Blood Knight demands vengeance, justice, and a pair of tweed pants!
“AHHH, WHAT’S THAT??” Milhouse screams a bit too loudly. There is a slim figure against the wall staring at him silently; a tall, slim figure clad in armor… as Milhouse stares at the figure, it slowly begins to glow redder and redder… until its nature is revealed. “A knight!” Milhouse cries. Surely not the Death Knight himself! He holds a terrifying, shimmering greatsword. If Milhouse isn’t careful, he’ll be hacked to bits!
Milhouse reaches for his quarterstaff, but it’s gone. Dagger, gone. Bag of supplies, gone. “Do not bother searching for your equipment, mortal,” booms the Death Knight. “Listen, mortal, And listen carefully! I have a task for you.” Milhouse is stricken with fear. “There is a knight who claims ownership over this forest. A warrior who, like myself, is not of this realmmmm…” The extra M’s make Milhouse’s spine shiver. “My followers call me the Blood Knight of Kiaransalee. I am a loyal follower of Kiaransalee, the Dark Goddess, Enemy of Lolth and Orcus, The Vengeful Banshee!”
Oh no! Kiaransalee! She and her cult following is supposed to be long dead! Oh, the atrocities that this cult has committed! They are too horrible to even mention in even vague detail, apparently!
“My followers and I will see the Mother return to her former power… and we have chosen this Wood of Weathercote as the point of her arrival. It is aligned with the unseen stars and the nodes of power that exist in this land… it is a small but potent place. But this one who they call the Death Knight… He must die, mortal. And you have been chosen by the Goddess as the bringer of his demise!”
This Blood Knight is starting to get a little verbose, but Milhouse lets down his guard. It appears that he and this Knight share a common goal. “And as reward,” the Knight continues, “you will become my most exalted follower! My general, who shall stand beside me in glory as we return the Goddess Kiaransalee to her rightful place as ruler of this land!”
Well, Milhouse doesn’t much like the sound of this. But, he continues hearing the Blood Knight speak. He sure likes to hear his own voice, Milhouse thinks. “Do not be afraid mortal. I am Myrkbrood, made from the embers of the cremated dead. And this weapon is of the Myrk as well!” The Knight brings forth, as if out of thin air, a long sword. It glows red as if kissed by fire itself. “This is known as a Sword of the Goddess’s Wrath. You will use it to slay the one known as the Death Knight! And then, return it to me before the dawn. If you refuse any part of this task, my followers will pursue you to the ends of the world! You shall live a cursed life, always looking over your shoulder. Are we in agreeance, mortal?”
The elf takes the sword in his hand, and it glows with iridescent radiance. It almost hurts to hold, it’s so damn hot and bright. Jesus. A dark energy pervades the sword, and he can feel it creep up his arm and permeate his very soul.
“I accept your quest,” Milhouse says with conviction.
And so it shall be. Or something to that effect.
Mat wakes up and eats a giant Denny’s Grand Slam breakfast. Even though he supposes that the Aes Sedai want him to stay in bed, Mat gets dressed and starts roaming the Tower. He goes outside to a courtyard and speaks with a couple of guards who are ordered to prevent anyone who looks like Mat from leaving the premises. That means YOU *points at a guy who looks like Mat (i.e. Mat)*
Disgruntled, Mat wanders around the courtyard and bumps into a young woman named Else, a farmer’s daughter who he and Rand encountered once along their travels. She’s kind of cold and bitchy, and avoids Mat like he has a bad case of plague, diabetes, and various venereal diseases.
Disgruntled, Mat wanders around some more and discovers some Warder training involving Gawyn (terrible name) and Galad. They approach Mat to see how he’s doing, and then wonder if he wants to pick up a sword ha ha ha. Mat, despite his hungry, weakening condition, challenges Gawyn and Galad to a duel with a quarterstaff for some money. They don’t accept, but a Warder instructor named Hammar overhears and goads the boys into challenging Mat. Mat doesn’t look too good, as Hammar points out loudly, but Mat ain’t no pussy! Challenge accepted.
Mat mutters to himself in what he thinks whatever the Wheel of Time version of English is, but Hammar recognizes it as the Old Tongue. Mat is like “oh shit” and moves on. Mat fights Gawyn and Galad and beats the shit out of them while his health depreciates before everyone’s very eyes.
After Mat’s victory, Hammar tells a short tale about Jearom — the greatest blademaster of all time who won 10,000 battles except one: against a farmer with a quarterstaff. “Remember what you just saw” he tells the dozens of aspiring Warders.
Mat gets his money, and when Hammar asks where Mat is from he accidentally says “Manetheren” before catching himself and saying “Two Rivers”. Worried about drawing much more unneeded attention than he already has (I don’t know how someone could have possibly drawn more attention at all), Mat takes his leave.
Fuckin’ Mat(ison) Cautho(r)n. He’s going to wind up a paraplegic congressman before he even knows it.
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