Yesterday was most Unconventional. I'm still working at a local cinema and it is school half-terms, which are notorious for being stupidly busy as parents try to find various ways to entertain their kids, and as it turns out, the cinema is often a prime choice as it involves sitting down and hoping your kids will be quiet and watch a movie. Anyway, it was also a Wednesday, which cinemas have a 2 for 1 offer if they are with the EE network, this is called Orange Wednesdays which are also notorious for being busy. Now combine half-term and Orange Wednesdays and you have the busiest day of the year so far.
The Day
So I've been working hard all day and see that I finish in half an hour. Nearly there! I'm on concessions, so I'm working the tills, selling hundreds and hundreds of tickets and giving out popcorn and hotdogs and whatever calorific food people want to indulge on. I go around the front to stock up the chocolate when disaster strikes. A power-cut! The lights flicker, the tills start beeping wildly, the information board with film times now looks like it is screaming (CAaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAaaaaAAAAAAaaaaAAAAAA!?!2aaAAA) and all the screens shut down. We have around a thousand kids in dark screens with no lights.
Action time! I join those on floor and we split up and notify the screens to remain seated and to not panic, but kids are already crying. Our only manager is upstairs with a few people trying to get the projectors working again, but it doesn't look good. Power comes back on, but the projection computers are confused and in protest. People start storming out, demanding to know whats going on. I have no idea, lady (It's always the mothers that are most confronting). The screens start coming on slowly, one by one, but most people are already after refunds. Now refunds are doable; when half of it is payed with gift-cards, the tills wont let us process any refunds, so we have to resort to offering complimentary tickets.
The most profitable day of the year is now in the negatives. Crazy! I stayed a little extra as a liaison between staff members and the manager, since my D&D session wasn't until 7. I left the cinema half an hour after I was supposed to finish which really says something about our refund efficiency. I purchased a new rucksack since mine is pretty knackered and headed into town.
The Evening
D&D time! The guy playing the Rogue and myself with my Ranger were in a small seperate room from the main group today. Still near the corridor with the lurker. The GM was fluttering between rooms, the joy of a party-split! I and the Rogue formed a plan, we would try to lurk the lurker out of the corridor and into the river. We opened the double doors and I took a few hits and we popped arrows into it; the Lurker wasn't going down any time soon. BAM! The Lurker rushed out of the corridor, straight for me, with my five hit points, I knew it would do twelve damage it if touched me. Luckily, the gargoyles were still hungry and jumped off the chandelier they were on, they teared the Lurker to shreds (Boy was I glad I paid them!) The Rogue nodded and we ran through the doors, shutting them and wedging them shut. The Lurker disguised as a ceiling has nearly killed us, but we prevailed. I used my third and final healing spell for the day to put me back at 19 hit points and we continued down the corridor. We saw nothing unusual, so we went to the doors at the far end.
When the GM starts cackling and saying how ingenious this dungeon was, you should be very afraid. We failed some wisdom stairs and the floor takes hold and tried to eat us. THE DAMN FLOOR IS TRYING TO KILL US. Oh crap. The rogue falls unconscious, I'm now down to 2 hit points and we're both grappled. The GM goes to the other room, leaving us two to form a plan: We got nothing. I was half tempted to start writing a eulogy for my first D&D character. Here lies Lukka, the entire dungeon tried to kill her: first the wraiths, then the river, then the ceiling and she was finally killed by the FLOOR. I remember the 'Floor is now Lava' game and thought that if I survived this, I would live in the air, with a distinct fear of the ground and ceilings. Although, knowing my looks, the clouds would then try and kill me.
We were given some new d20's and they were most righteous.
The GM returns and I roll to break free. I just manage to free myself, but the rogue is still unconscious (When a seasoned role-player tells you to go on without him, you know they're screwed.) It is now the rogue's move, he rolls a death save. Critical 20! Now on 1 hit point and still grappled, he rolls for the grapple, ANOTHER CRITICAL 20! Amazing. We dash through the new doors and slam them shut. We made it through 'death corridor'. Relief. Then we hear the clattering of hooves. Two Minotaurs stand at the other end of the corridor, looting bodies. We are on 2 and 1 hit point with no method of healing. Crap. We slowly back through the door, the Minotaurs luckily not noticing us. I roll a perception now that I know what's in this deathly corridor. Critical 20! What?
It seems that splitting from the party has somehow made me half-competent! I notice a hidden door. Unfortunately, it's on the other side of the section of floor that tried to eat us. We skirt around the side and roll too avoid falling in. I succeed, but the rogue does not. The GM, impressed that we weren't dead after everything in this level, lets me have a roll to see if I notice the rogue about to fall. He says if its above 10, I notice, if not, I don't. I look to the other player in the room. It was good knowing him. I roll and watch the blue D20 bounce across the board. I roll an 11! Lukka swings her arm out and stops Jemiah from falling. Holy crap.
Every part of the dungeon has damaged me: the doors, the walls, the underground river, the ceiling and now the floor.
We make to to the hidden door and open it. We see a dark set of stairs going down. Down! We're horrifically injured and now have a phobia of bright corridors. What now? Do we rest?
"Can't sleep, floor will eat me"
It doesn't look like we're going to reconvene with out party any time soon. Although, the GM says we hear the faint yet familiar sound of our Half-Orc bard singing: from the direction of the Minotaurs. Fuck that! We close the door, sit down on the steps and fist-bump while quoting Bill & Ted.
