While I believe I was resurrected for greater things, I thought I would be grateful and help the monk with his gardening problem. It seemed simple enough, he had some pesky rabbits and wanted my help in eradicating them. Sure, why not. Doesn’t quite seem to be a true use of my skills, but you’re a monk, at one with all of nature’s animals, and you don’t want to get your hands dirty.
As Coren and I entered the garden I can see why the monk didn’t want to deal with this situation himself. Oh, he did indeed leave out a few key details about why he wanted me to take up the case. These weren’t mere rabbits, they were undead rabbits! They were corrupted Wererabbits, bent on leaping at my throat and bleeding me dry! And they aren’t mindless drones either, oh no, they have intelligence and strategy, at least more of each than I possess.
Our initial folly was frought with peril. Coren and I were immediately surrounded, cutting off our escape. Our second attempt started off quite grand as we isolated a couple of the demonic devils, but once the rest of the pack was on to our game, we were swarmed once again, finding ourselves face down in the cabbage patch. Extremely undignified for a Lightbringer, I assure you.
For the next attack we were on solid footing. We coaxed them out, separating some of the miscreants from the herd. Then we flanked the hideous beats keeping them in front so we wouldn’t get surrounded again. We swung like blind fury dispatching them to meet with their cottontail creator. It was touch and go, desperate times, but we managed to survive.
It may not be the most glorious victory and may not be the most worthy of tavern tales, but I assure you, those rabbits were fiendish beasts! A fiendish, diabolical lot! Don’t let that cabbage and carrot munching lull you into a false sense of security. They have death on their minds.
I headed back to the monk, intent of giving him a stern what-for, but he cut me off, handed over some gold and an interesting trinket. Staring at the shiny object, I soon moved on to other matters.
Now look here. Our first few attempts didn’t go so well. I admit that. But we don’t have to lead with that part of the story when we get to the pub. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to rinse off my boots in those angelic waters over there.
More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia
- Removing Corrupted Stags from the Library of the Goblin King–Ember
- Bashing the Necromancer into the Bog
- Even Ember knows the value of a Sincere Pumpkin Patch
- Coming out of Radiance and into Darkwood – Adventures in Ember
- In the hall of the Great Goblin King – Ember
- The Cliffs of the Giants and the icy shrine below
- Ember – Some final thoughts
- Into the Bog of Souls
- An audience with the Ember Goddess
- Sewer dwelling cultists under The Salty Keg