Saturday, November 30, 2024

The Three Mouseketeers and the Stairway to Heaven

Ah, Paris! The city of love, art, and people charging you €6 for a croissant. While I was busy trying to convince French waiters that, yes, I did mean to order snails and not just make a terrible mistake, the rest of you were busy constructing some sort of architectural abomination on a snowy mountaintop. This blog could really just be titled “What Did Craig Build This Week?” but that wouldn’t do justice to Dave and Zaph’s contributions to the chaos—nor, I suppose, to Craig’s… unique flair.

So, what did I miss while dining on overpriced baguettes and debating the merits of tiny coffees? Let’s recap:


1. Snowball Fiasco: Artistry Eludes the Mouseketeers

The journey began with the three of you scaling the mountains behind Spider House. Because what better way to spend a perfectly good gaming session than climbing through ice, digging through snow, and pretending this would somehow lead to something useful? Spoiler: it didn’t.

Dave, Zaph, and Craig learned how to make snowballs. Or rather, they learned how to make snowballs but couldn’t actually make any. I’m unclear on whether this was due to in-game physics, a lack of coordination, or the cruel whims of an uncaring digital universe, but I’m relieved to know you spent valuable time struggling with this. Truly, the snowball revolution of 2024 is right around the corner.


2. Craig Builds the Stairway to Heaven (and Beyond)

Next came the construction project that no one asked for, but everyone should have seen coming. Craig, unsatisfied with mere mountaintop glory, decided to build his very own Stairway to Heaven. Using red marble (of course it was red marble) and glow strips, he added a launching pad that was less “practical gliding platform” and more “luxury ski resort.” This masterpiece included a bonfire, a bed, and even a chair to sit in while contemplating how much higher he could build.

To Craig’s credit, this setup did provide some functionality. The three of you launched yourselves into the air to see how far you could glide, which led to the inevitable:

  • Zaph made it all the way to a distant fast travel tower, because Zaph always lands his glider like he’s filming a commercial for “Precision Adventurers, Inc.”
  • Dave, being Dave, ran out of stamina 100 meters short and plummeted to his death in what I can only assume was a perfect swan dive into tragedy.
  • Craig, presumably, just stayed behind to add decorative lighting to the platform or carve his initials into the snow.

3. Exploring Crypts, Reuniting Families, and Shroud Mushrooms (Again)

Once Dave was dusted off and resurrected (again), the group decided to set their sights on loftier goals: mapping unexplored terrain and discovering new wonders. This went surprisingly well—at least until it didn’t.

  • You uncovered five new shroud mushrooms. Five. I’m not even there, and I can feel the irritation already. Why do we always find these things when I’m not around? Don’t think I didn’t notice the ominous “needed to be disposed of when Myles got back” note. Translation: Myles, come deal with this while we do something less painful.

  • You explored a crypt and a tomb, which I’m sure involved the usual amount of torch-lit bickering and Craig trying to loot the skeletons for “vintage boots.” You also reunited the smith with his daughter, which—shockingly—sounded like a genuinely heartwarming moment. Don’t worry, I’ll assume Craig tried to charge them both rent on the reunion location.

  • You discovered a burial site deep in the shroud but wisely decided to wait for me and my floating skulls before proceeding. Smart choice. Without my skull minions, you’re basically a herd of mildly capable mountain goats with a flair for catastrophe.


4. Zaph’s Gravity Experiment

At some point, Zaph decided to test his skill in bow-shooting while floating. Note that I said “test” his skill, not use his skill—because, as it turns out, Zaph hadn’t actually learned how to float-shoot yet. This epiphany occurred mid-plummet as Zaph’s pixelated body hurtled toward the ground like a majestic but very confused anvil.


5. Dave’s Dastardly Plan: Operation OHS Sabotage

While all this was going on, Dave was quietly orchestrating a long game. In what I can only assume was a fit of snow-fueled mischief, Dave distracted Craig with the Stairway to Heaven project just long enough to bury the entrance to Craig’s Deathtrap. (For the uninitiated, “Craig’s Deathtrap” is a legendary hole in the ground that violates every conceivable occupational health and safety standard.)

Now, I know what you’re thinking: Shouldn’t Craig have noticed? But let’s be honest, Craig was busy installing a bonfire and debating whether he needed glow-in-the-dark bunting for his launchpad. Well played, Dave. Well played.


6. Central Air-Con: The Snow Must Flow

And then, in the spirit of truly baffling priorities, Dave decided to air-condition Spider House. He filled the place with snow—because nothing says “homey adventurer’s retreat” like subzero temperatures in the living room. Even the animal pens weren’t spared. Somewhere, I’m sure the goats were bleating, “Why are we still here? Just to suffer?”


7. Chores: Because Even Heroes Need Bacon

The evening wrapped up with a round of chores: harvesting crops, slaughtering goats, and wistfully dreaming about bacon. Apparently, taming pigs for a proper breakfast has now become a group goal. Because nothing screams “mighty adventurers” like the phrase, “We really need pigs for bacon.”


8. Craig Saves Everyone… Allegedly

Finally, there’s the obligatory “Craig saved us all” claim. Craig, of course, will insist he came to the group’s rescue in some unspecified and heroic way. Zaph and Dave, on the other hand, vehemently deny this ever happened. I wasn’t there, so I’ll leave it to history to decide. But let’s be real: if Craig saved the day, he probably also ruined it five minutes later by digging into the air-con snow and falling in a hole.


Final Thoughts

While I’ve been soaking up Parisian culture, you’ve been scaling mountains, dying gloriously, and building the most impractical launchpad in gaming history. Honestly, I’m impressed. And mildly horrified. But mostly impressed.

P.S. I’ll deal with the shroud mushrooms when I’m back, but I’m not happy about it.

Yours in baguettes and bafflement,
Myles





Fizzy Goats and Flamethrowers: The Seville Saga

 


Ah, Seville. Land of flamenco, tapas, and the ominous void in my chair at the gaming table. While I was off basking in the Spanish sun, sipping sangria, and pretending I could tell the difference between authentic Iberian ham and the stuff we get in shrink-wrap, the rest of you lot were gallivanting around in an icy wasteland, dying, looting, and making questionable decisions. I feel like I’ve missed something important—though based on Craig’s “miracle-followed-by-falling-in-a-hole” routine, I’m also fairly certain I haven’t.

Let’s unpack this, shall we?


1. Marauders, But Make Them Flaming

It all started with the noble quest to recover a blast furnace—because, naturally, what we really needed wasn’t more practical weapons or survival gear, but the ability to produce artisanal steel pickaxes and luxury armor. You know, priorities.

Apparently, the Marauders (formerly "those guys with the dual poison swords who killed us repeatedly") had upgraded to flamethrowers. Logical escalation, I suppose. What I’m struggling with is why we don’t have flamethrowers. As Craig would say, “We can craft furniture, enchant weapons, and farm goats, but pyrotechnics are where we draw the line?”

Of course, Dave glided past the Marauders like some sort of underdressed snow angel, leaving Zaph and Craig to "die several times" (your words, not mine). This may sound frustrating, but let’s not forget: Dave has the attention span of a caffeinated ferret, and if there's a shiny thing somewhere in the distance, he's going for it. He probably found something “rare” like frost-covered onions while you were all being flambĂ©ed.


2. Death Shroud and Lemming Behavior

Then there was the part where you tried to bypass a lethal "death shroud" by following Craig. Let me repeat that: you followed Craig. That's like asking a fish for hiking directions. Predictably, this involved scrambling over rocks, mining your way up a mountain, and realizing, as always, that Craig’s “shortcut” was just a scenic route to futility. Back to Northern Peaks it was.

(For those keeping score: Marauders-5, Party-0, Craig-Detour Champion of 2024.)


3. Cyclops Boss Fight: Dave’s Interpretive Dance

Your next bold strategy involved charging into a cave guarded by a cyclops. Naturally, Dave couldn’t wait to "dance" around the boss, presumably yelling things like, “Distract it while I do sick glider flips!” and "Look, fizzy goats!" This, in turn, left Zaph to snipe and Craig to do whatever it is Craig does (loot the chest, of course).

Oh, the chest was empty? How shocking. I’m sure Dave has no idea where the treasure went. Check his backpack; it’s probably stuffed with gold, "fey goat cheese," and whatever rare fauna he’s decided to hoard this week.


4. Frozen Craig and the Castle That Wasn’t

Fast forward to the Albanese Summits, where you encountered the classic survival issue: someone forgot their coat. Craig, being that someone, died repeatedly of frostbite while the rest of you huddled around a flame shrine. I do admire his perseverance, though. Respawn, freeze, die. Respawn, freeze, die. Rinse, repeat. It’s practically a performance art piece.

Meanwhile, Zaph and Dave stormed the castle without him, only to discover no blast furnace and a boss who healed halfway through the fight. Their solution? Slam the door in its face and ransack the place. That’s some top-tier adventuring.

By the time Craig rejoined the group, presumably wearing a fashionable parka made of goat hair, the three of you managed to kill the boss and retrieve… the plans for the elusive blast furnace. At last! A moment of triumph! Which was immediately undercut by Craig falling in a frozen lake. Again.


5. Lava Lighthouse and the Tapestry of Uselessness

At some point, someone thought it would be a good idea to hunt down a tapestry for the alchemist. Because nothing screams "practical survival" like antique textiles. This led to the discovery of a lighthouse in the middle of a lava lake. Who builds these things? Was the architect a Bond villain?

Craig, naturally, glided short and got stuck outside in the dark. Zaph, ever the overachiever, landed triumphantly on top of the lighthouse, probably striking a heroic pose while Dave tried to emulate him and instead plummeted to his death. Craig’s subsequent stairwell tussle with a blue dragon was just the icing on the cake.

And the tapestry? It allowed the alchemist to make… advanced antidotes. Absolutely riveting. Can’t wait to heal from all those poison flamethrowers.


6. Mauve Fabric, Giant Pumpkins, and Craig’s Water-Walking Miracle

Finally, after all the blood, frostbite, and frustration, progress was made. You figured out how to craft purple fabric and hard leather—obviously critical in the war against flamethrowers. Zaph logged off immediately after securing his first batch of mauvite (likely to go design a spreadsheet of optimal armor stats). Craig, on the other hand, celebrated by walking on water, which, according to the blog notes, was "miraculous." I assume this lasted about five seconds before he dug into the ice and fell in.

Meanwhile, Dave continued his relentless campaign of goat-milking, pumpkin-growing, and overachieving. Because what’s a fantasy adventure without artisanal fey dairy and enormous gourds?


Final Thoughts

In conclusion, while I was enjoying churros in Seville, you lot were freezing to death, being roasted alive, and otherwise embarrassing yourselves in spectacular fashion. I have to say, I’m both impressed and appalled. And let’s be honest: this blog isn’t just a recap—it’s a cautionary tale for anyone who thinks following Craig into the unknown is a good idea.

P.S. Craig, I hear you saved everyone at one point. No one thanked you? I’m shocked. Absolutely stunned. But don’t worry—your next hole-digging catastrophe will surely restore the natural order.

Yours in absentia,
Myles