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A tanglefoot bag. It had been years and levels since any of them had encountered a tanglefoot bag. They were, after all, supposed to be a low-level threat.

“OK, stand still. I’m going to try again,” said Fighter.

RIIIIIIIIPP! went a set of breeches.

“This is ridiculous!” groaned Inquisitor.

Ranger shrugged. It was such a shrug as to convey the concept, if not the precise words, “We have encountered an improbable scenario, that much is certain.”

“Can anyone reach Mercy from this angle?”

“Maybe with my tail?” said Magus.

The halberd fell to the floor with a clang, bounced once, and lodged in the goo.

“Bullshit!” shrieked Inquisitor. “It’s supposed to be an auto-hit against this stuff. How are we failing this badly?”

RIIIIIIIIPP! went someone’s brassiere.

*****

A short stack of gold jangled upon the table, dropped and dropped again through dexterous fingers. The fingers in question were a distinctive lavender color.

“What all did ye sell?” asked Cleric.

Thief shrugged. “This and that. A few gemstones. Goldie’s old scabbard. Most of the alchemical kitsch from the bottom of my swag bag.”

Our swag bag. And what would ye toss the gnomish gear for? Some of that kit is dead useful.”

“Three words, my bearded friend: DC. 15. Reflex.”

Ale was quaffed. About half of it soaked into red whiskers in the traditional dwarven manner. “That’s technically two words and an acronym.”

“I stand corrected. But the point is that I’d have to rely on our enemies failing a DC 15 Reflex save to get any use out of a tanglefoot bag. You know how lucky I’d have to be to swing that?”

“Aye. Fair enough, lass. The fates do seem to have an adversarial relationship wit’ ye.”

The fates seemed to hang in the air about the little bar table. Thief narrowed her many eyes in contemplation. “Do you think,” she mused, “That it’s possible to harness that power?”

Cleric shrugged in such a way as to convey the concept, if not the precise words, “Bad luck is a fickle sort of magic. I doubt that it could be weaponized.”

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Comments

Michael Brost

Tanglefoot in the middle of grease. Slip and slide right to where you stick in place, and then have little leverage to get out. Though I'm sure plenty would volunteer to get stuck with this crew.

Michael Zemancik

Femfighter should be thankful that she's not in bugbear form here. Painful way to become a pinkskin again.