The name of the campaign we are playing in our larger D&D group is "Skeleton Coast." This is the one Mr S-P wrote right before I got sick last year. The whole thing is his own creation, and so far we all think it is fantastic. It isn't non-stop action. It's mostly brain work: facing endless stretches of desert and figuring out how to feed ourselves, touring abandoned fortresses and understanding the significance of crumbling texts therein. That sort of thing.
In the sprawling maze off of underground catacombs where we are currently exploring, we have found dozens of animated skeletons who have had their hands removed, and digging equipment bonded to their forearms. They don't even notice we exist when we go past them. They are entirely intent on digging out more winding tunnels. It's weirdly off-putting to be in this situation, and be totally irrelevant to their task.
Thus it was extra amusing when our kids showed up for the last session before Halloween, dressed together as a skeleton family. (In our daughter's slang, "skelly-mans.") I demanded pictures for the blog, and that stinker took them and has already put them on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. It's a shame the grandbaby's first Halloween won't be good for trick-or-treating. Not like she is old enough to eat candy anyway, but it still would have been fun to take her around in a stroller if it had been safe. If we remember next year, I promised to make Dino a tiny David S Pumpkins costume, so her parents could wear the skeleton onesies again, this time as her sidekicks. Let's hope next Halloween is safer for getting out among people.
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