TOPIC: The Night Before Celebration

I love Lords of Waterdeep! And I wish I knew what Slack was all about. Sounds like I'll be learning!

Update: installed. Will PM James.

Richard and Melissa have confirmed my suspicion that they would rather be drawn and quartered than consume anything that comes out of a Golden Corral. That seems to put Fat Bottom Betty's instead the lead as far as dinner location.

Top post has been edited.

In for dinner and board gaming!

It was almost #777, but you messed up and ruined it. Now you'll have to wait and come back for #888.

I am in for gamingbthursday evening... and dinner anywhere with group...

I get in Wednesday night late due to flight from Argentina... arriving Thursday was twice the price...

Hey hey, Mongo. It'll be great to see you again. I remember you saying how you ended up traveling all over the place for work. The extra time will probably be good just to get over any residual jet lag.

My roommates are I should be down for gaming (Angel and Beertram), timing will likely be on the later side. We hope to get to town early enough to get over for badge pickup Thurs night 1st then come over for gaming. Dinner will have to play by ear.

I'm up for food/gaming after training.

I'm in for both food and gaming

When I read the title of this thread, I couldn't help by think of A Visit From St. Nick. Which then prompted this nightmare...

Twas the night before TD, when all through the house
All the gamers were playing, on keyboards and mouse.
The curtains were hung on the steel rods with care,
In hopes that great treasure soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their bed,
While parents drank white wine, and maybe some red.
And Lori in 'kerchief, and Jeff in his cap,
Had just settled down, for an all-too-short nap,
When deep in the hall there arose such a clatter,
Jeff sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away from the hotel he flew like a flash,
He opened air curtains and blew by some ash.
The lume of the black lights above all a-glow,
Brought shadows of myst'ry to objects below.
When what to his wandering eyes should appear,
But a great big huge dragon, whose presence caused fear.
Run by a green blue-hand, so lively and quick,
We knew in a moment it must be killed quick!
More rapid than stirges her breath weapon came,
She blustered and shouted, and called Wil by name!
"Slide faster! Slide better! Now hit that small twenty,
Beware that old dragon's got hit points a plenty!"
Off the top of the board, my puck it did fall
"This $#@*ing slick silhouette’s death to us all!"
As dry leaves in chimneys o'er fires do rise,
We've got barely three rounds before our demise.
So up to the head spot our pucks we did throw,
With a bag full of healing, our cleric to blow.
But then in a twinkling, I heard from the side,
That Smoak gave more taunting, our spirits deride.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
She took in a deep breath and scorched the stone ground.
Now dressed all in soot, from our head to our foot,
We had one last round, or else we're kaput!
A huge pile of tokens were piled all 'round,
We couldn't help wonder, could great loot be found?
Her eyes--how they twinkled with anger and fury.
Her cheeks were quite puffed up, we knew death was neary.
Her fierce puckered lips were all ready to blow,
And the whites of her eyes were yellow as snow.
The stump of a claw from a battle before,
She raised like finger, that old carnivore,
To point out her black pearl, which orbit her head,
And dry up our hopes of making her dead.
She was skinny, not plump, a right cranky old self,
And she licked her dry lips while eyeing the elf.
A wink of her eye and a twist of her neck,
Gave all us to know, we're about to be wreck'd.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
Of roasting our heroes, then let loose a smirk.
And laying a "finger" aside of her nose,
She gave a quick snort, to ashes dispose.
She laid on her back, and gave a dry whistle,
A sword could not best her, nor a magic missile.
But I heard players claim, as they exit the room,
Just wait until next year, then you’ll meet your doom!

Druegar wrote: When I read the title of this thread, I couldn't help by think of A Visit From St. Nick. Which then prompted this nightmare...

Twas the night before TD, when all through the house
All the gamers were playing, on keyboards and mouse.
The curtains were hung on the steel rods with care,
In hopes that great treasure soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their bed,
While parents drank white wine, and maybe some red.
And Lori in 'kerchief, and Jeff in his cap,
Had just settled down, for an all-too-short nap,
When deep in the hall there arose such a clatter,
Jeff sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away from the hotel he flew like a flash,
He opened air curtains and blew by some ash.
The lume of the black lights above all a-glow,
Brought shadows of myst'ry to objects below.
When what to his wandering eyes should appear,
But a great big huge dragon, whose presence caused fear.
Run by a green blue-hand, so lively and quick,
We knew in a moment it must be killed quick!
More rapid than stirges her breath weapon came,
She blustered and shouted, and called Wil by name!
"Slide faster! Slide better! Now hit that small twenty,
Beware that old dragon's got hit points a plenty!"
Off the top of the board, my puck it did fall
"This $#@*ing slick silhouette’s death to us all!"
As dry leaves in chimneys o'er fires do rise,
We've got barely three rounds before our demise.
So up to the head spot our pucks we did throw,
With a bag full of healing, our cleric to blow.
But then in a twinkling, I heard from the side,
That Smoak gave more taunting, our spirits deride.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
She took in a deep breath and scorched the stone ground.
Now dressed all in soot, from our head to our foot,
We had one last round, or else we're kaput!
A huge pile of tokens were piled all 'round,
We couldn't help wonder, could great loot be found?
Her eyes--how they twinkled with anger and fury.
Her cheeks were quite puffed up, we knew death was neary.
Her fierce puckered lips were all ready to blow,
And the whites of her eyes were yellow as snow.
The stump of a claw from a battle before,
She raised like finger, that old carnivore,
To point out her black pearl, which orbit her head,
And dry up our hopes of making her dead.
She was skinny, not plump, a right cranky old self,
And she licked her dry lips while eyeing the elf.
A wink of her eye and a twist of her neck,
Gave all us to know, we're about to be wreck'd.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
Of roasting our heroes, then let loose a smirk.
And laying a "finger" aside of her nose,
She gave a quick snort, to ashes dispose.
She laid on her back, and gave a dry whistle,
A sword could not best her, nor a magic missile.
But I heard players claim, as they exit the room,
Just wait until next year, then you’ll meet your doom!

POINTS!