Barth normally was a supporter of the tried and true method of procrastinating everything until the last minute, but they were...sort of already there.
"No, gently- careful with that," Barth winced as a barrel-armed ogre and a skinny zombie wrestled one of his various contraptions into a box. The moment they graduated they'd be kicked out, and he hadn't even bought a lair- the lair. At least a starter lair.
The least he could do was get things...packaged.
Quote:
Rolling a 2: ALL DAMAGE DONE BACKFIRES ON THE CHARACTERS THEMSELVES (ie if you do 6 damage to the opponent, you take 6 damage). All your log seems to take second place as a voice calls to you, vague, agitating. It pressures you to attack relentlessly, brashly, without caring about your own wounds or damage done to your allies.