I read Bruce at Vinyl Connections D&D post the other day, it’s here:
Next thing I knew I was hip deep in gore attempting to rescue the blacksmiths daughter from the goblins as they sacrificed her to the horribleness below. Well it wasn’t exactly the next thing but Sunday afternoon as we drove the backroads searching for the new homestead we got the call, “come home we need two more for the dungeon.” So there I was an intelligence challenged barbarian hacking his way through the mess a 22 year old can create in his mind after a steady diet of Moorcock, Tolkien and Gaiman with a healthy dose of Star Trek thrown in for good measure.
The amusing thing was my wife had been living out her own elvish fantasies as we trudged through the woods, a promising 10 acres off the beaten track. She found the sunny dell by the creek and the wooded copse held all sorts of plans for the future.
Getting lost on the way back in the dreaded berry bushes as we failed to remember our route up the hill left me bloody and beaten.
All of which will undoubtedly result in the dreaded offers and counter offers that all property deals end up as, not to mention where the septic system will go and how deep does the well have to be questions. Which means that the battles ahead have nothing to compare to the skull crushing and slicing and dicing that we went through on our return home after the attempt to find the property markers, fording two creeks and climbing the hill to the copse.