I'm wondering if 1000 dreams before or by 2008 would be feasible.
Meh, I don't need the stress.
If anyone wants to contribute, please feel free! The last contributed dreams were in July but they were mostly overheard or cut-and-pasted without being officially submitted to heptapod.org. Reckon one could say it's cheating and desperation on my part.
Potions of confusion are very useful by themselves. Reading 21 out of the 22 available scrolls, disregarding mail, while confused nerfs the bad effects of scrolls such as destroy armor, fire, amnesia and punishment. Woe betide anyone who reads a scroll of genocide while confused because it may very well mean game over unless the scroll was originally cursed.
In Grunt's exuberance he nearly choked all over his food while trying to cram another dwarf down his gullet. Fortunately his player was of a cooler disposition and prevented such a tragedy. He went back upstairs to finish off whatever may have remained in his wake. A cockatrice fell to his axe and left a corpse. Sadly Grunt lacks gloves to pick up the cockatrice corpse. These corpses are notorious for turning people to stone. Even if he did have gloves, he wouldn't have a bag to safely store the corpse. Heaven forbid he falls down a hole while holding or wielding a cockatrice corpse that would mean he'd be a statue and game over, man. Game over.
Grunt stands panting in the gnomish mines howling "IZZAT ALL YA GOTS?"
Tomorrow Grunt will descend yet another level and continue his adventure.
I greeted the unseen presence, should there be one, and peered into the elevator wondering if it was waiting for me. As if the elevator was trying to tell me to come inside so I could journey to its pre-chosen destination.
I awoke and forced my eyes to focus and catch any available light to reassure myself that I was alone, in bed and still within my apartment.
As I fell asleep I awoke into dreams. I was in a hotel room with someone that didn't look like raddidge yet they claimed to be raddidge. Maybe her soul was transposed into this body? Perhaps she did something to change the way she looked. Either way I excused myself to get us some ice and drinks. I went everywhere in the building but I couldn't find one of those alcoves with the ice machine and soda vending machines.
Eventually I got down to the lobby and was directed me to a place in the back that could accomodate me and end my search. Unfortunately in my travels I had lost my way and couldn't remember the room number. Nor did I have a key and according to the front desk I hadn't registered to have a room at their establishment. Exasperated I got into an elevator and set off to search for raddidge. Now even if I had remembered the room number or if I had a key that wouldn't have helped me any since none of the doors were numbered and every corridor looked the same.
My anxiety grew into panic as I started to think that raddidge was thinking I had abandoned her. How could anyone lose a person in a fucking hotel of all places? The feeling came to a head, crested then broke only to be replaced by a drive to find raddidge in her new body and fuck the ever-living shit out of her. Unlike the hysterical anxiety that possessed me earlier in the dream, the lust was overwhelming and toxic to me.
Back in the lobby the clerk advised me to try searching the west wing. She was dripping with sarcasm and I became embarassed by the fact that I didn't even realize there was a west wing in the joint. It only takes a few steps and turning around few corners to feel like I have my bearings once again. Yet I wake up because I threw up a little in my mouth and the back of my throat was burning something fierce.
I blame my sauce for being too spicy.
