Work Text:
“Okay, so when we left off… Arthur, Merlin, and the Knights of the Round Table are standing in front of the locked, 10 meter high, iron gates to the ensorcelled cemetery. Towards the party’s right on the far side of the gated area, a zombie ogre guards the exterior. The cemetery interior is guarded by two massive but currently stone and sleeping gargoyles in front of the cursed crypt. Your goal is to get inside the crypt in the center of the graveyard, where the entrance to the catacombs are."
“Can I kick the gates in like a badass?”
“The gates are currently closed up with chains and an enchanted padlock.”
“Can I use my lockpicks on the lock?”
“You can try. Roll.”
“...”
"Your attempt to unlock the door not only fails but fails so badly that you manage to give yourself a fatal wound with the lock pick. You are dead, Sir Lancelot."
“Oof.”
"No! Not Lancelot! I'll sacrifice every one of you bastards for that man!"
"Thanks, Elyan, I feel loved."
"Shut the fuck up, Gwaine. I'd sacrifice you for a potato."
"I think Gwaine is worth at least two potatoes."
"Listen, if I ever sell myself, I’m for damn sure not only going to charge in potatoes. Though, in that situation, I could certainly imagine apples being involved."
“I said sacrifice, not sell.”
"Are we already moving on from Lancelot's untimely demise?"
“The ogre-zombie, doing his evening perimeter patrol, has seen you all and is now charging in your direction.”
“Well, shit.”
“Wait, can I roll for seduc-”
“You’re not seducing the zombie, Gwaine.”
“I cast a fire funnel at the zombie.”
“Roll.”
“...”
“Your flames manage to strip away the ogre’s armor but you don’t deal significant health damage.”
“Well, that didn’t go like I wanted it to.”
“Since we can see it now, how big is the ogre dick?”
“With all due respect, Sir Gwaine, what the fuck?”
“Leon never specified that the ogre was a man, you know.”
“Am I having a stroke or is this conversation real?”
“We’ll just assume that ogre-zombie has genitals that have since rotted away, rendering this conversation moot.”
“Or gendering the conversation moot, huh? Huh?”
“Shut up, Merlin.”
“You all realize that the ogre is still charging you, right?”
“He’s a zombie, so he wants flesh, right?”
“I mean, cannibalism is what zombies are known for.”
“Is it still cannibalism if the zombie is an ogre, though?”
“I thought zombies only ate brains.”
“Guys. Why don’t we have Percy yeet Lancelot’s corpse for the ogre zombie to fetch. While he’s distracted, we can get through the gate.”
“That’s morbid.”
“This is survival of the fittest, dammit, and Lancelot’s already dead.”
“Wow, you guys suck. No respect for me, even though I’m dead now.”
“Hey, did anyone hear that? It sounded like Lancelot.”
“Shut up , Merlin.”
“Look, Lancelot would want all of us to live. It would be his dying wish that he helps us in our mission, dead or otherwise.”
“Or otherwise?”
“Y’know… not-dead. Shut up, don’t judge me, my friend just died.”
“So, are we going to use Lancelot as bait or not?”
“I mean, are there any objections?”
“Even if you’re not in an enchanted cemetery, you should respect the dead, you know!”
“Guys, I swear to the Gods that I hear Lancelot’s voice.”
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up? Percy, do it!”
“ Yeet! ”
“...”
“I can’t believe you actually said ‘yeet’ while throwing, Perce.”
“Sir Percival successfully yeets Lancelot’s corpse to catch the ogre zombie’s attention and drive it away. While Sir Lancelot is being devoured, all of you have time to make your next move.”
“Okay, admittedly, I like the word a lot better from Sir Jesus.”
“I can’t compete with that, though.”
“Anyone else fancy a go at the lock?"
"No. My strength hasn’t failed yet. I'm going to punch a hole through the bars next to the gate."
"Percival."
"Percy, you're just going to break your hand."
"I call upon my Holy Strength."
"Percival, don't tempt fate."
"It's not worth it, Perce."
"Hey, he wants to try it, I say let him."
"Merlin, stop being an agent of chaos."
"I will punch and I’ll make a hole for us to go through."
"Roll."
"..."
"There is now a hole in the iron fence directly beside the gate. It's just big enough to squeeze through."
"Fuck yeah, Percy! I knew you could do it!"
"Didn't you say-?"
"What I said then is not important.”
“There’s still the gargoyles, though.”
“We all see them, Sir Elyan, but they’re stone right now. Not so much a threat.”
“Well, what wakes them up?”
“Entering the crypt, likely. That’s what they’re guarding, after all.”
“So… How about we don’t? Go in the crypt, that is.”
“Scared, Merlin?”
“Would just rather not end up like Lancelot, thanks. Look, if what we’re after is underground, why don’t we just try looking for another entrance, or tunnelling through behind the crypt or something rather than wake up and piss off two gargoyles each three times the size of Percival. ”
“Is that a fat joke? I’m swol in the best ways.”
“I mean, that’s… Tunneling isn't actually a bad idea, all considered.”
“Do we have anything to dig with, though?”
“The question you should be asking is ‘pretty pretty please Sir Gwaine may we use your explosives’?”
“You’re apt to set one off even if we try to tell you otherwise and this might actually be helpful. Do it.”
“For you, Percy? Only if you suck me.”
“Roll for seduction, then.”
“Wait, really?”
“No. Go bury your little stick of dynamite in the ground.”
“... Is… Is that a metaphor for my penis?”
“ Gwaine .”
“Alright, alright! Jeez, Princess, no need to get your petticoats all ruffled. Look, I’ll go bury it behind the crypt! See, I’m going!”
“Well, we’re into it now. Let’s blow up part of a cursed graveyard.”
“... You know, this really doesn’t sound as good an idea the more I th-”
“Too late now!”
“...”
“The explosive device that Sir Gwaine buried behind the crypt goes off and creates a crater in the ground three meters wide and just as deep. The hole is all dirt-for all of your efforts, you haven’t gone deep enough to reach the catacombs from the surface. Because of your explosions, however, the dead have risen from their slumber and are shuffling towards the party. There is an army of corpses and you are surrounded.”
“... See, this is why we don’t listen to Merlin.”
“Hey! How is this my fault, you royal ass?”
“You’re the one who suggested we tunnel!”
“I didn’t tell you to blow a three meter deep hole in the bloody ground, did I?!”
“All in favor of never listening to what Merlin says again say ‘I’.”
“I.”
“I.”
“I. … Sorry, Merls. I’m just using you to take the heat off of me, you understand.”
“Dammit, Gwaine.”
“Okay, so how do we kill a zombie army because I am fresh out of bombs.”
“Wait, that was your last bomb?”
“Well, I set off more than one, so yeah. No more explosions from me. Do you have any ideas, Sir Elyan?”
“I mean, being that the zombies would only take damage from Arthur or Percival’s sword, I was really hoping that one of them might have a clue.”
“Since when does Arthur have a clue, though.”
“Shut up, Mer lin, you’re one to talk. Considering you got us all into this mess. Elyan and Percival, you two see if you can’t get some of this horde dispersed somehow. The rest of us will carve our way through these undead to the crypt.”
“Then we’re back to square one with the gargoyles!”
“You really should have kept at least one bomb, Gwaine.”
“We all know that you lot keep me around for my looks, not my brains.”
“You don’t have either, now, let’s go!”
“...”
“When separated from the group, Elyan and Percival are immediately targeted by the horde. Sir Elyan, one of the zombies manages a bite on your ankle.”
“Fuck. Uh-should I cut it off?”
“Say no more, friend! My holy blade shall purify the remaining stump I shall leave you with!”
“Wait, Perce-”
“Roll.”
“...”
“Sir Percival, you swing your blade too far and sever the femoral artery, leaving Sir Elyan bleeding out and attracting more zombies with the scent of blood. You can stand and fight to the death or try to run to the doorway of the crypt, where the rest of the party looks on in horror.”
“... I am a knight of honor! I will stand and fight! For Camelot!”
“...”
“So, both Percival and Elyan are dead now, too, right?”
“Uh, yeah. … Think so.”
“Well. This is a development.”
“Anyone have any other brilliant ideas?”
“I cast Hellfire.”
“Fuck off, Merlin, I don’t care if you’re magic incarnate and dragonkin, you can’t cast hellfire without being a demon. Besides, aren’t we supposed to not be listening to you?”
“I do what I want, prat , I’m Emrys. ”
“Leon, tell him.”
“Technically, at this level with his expertise in fire magic, Merlin can attempt to cast Hellfire.”
“ Ha!”
“On your first try, the only way you can successfully conjure Hellflame without burning your soul to ash is to roll a nat 20.”
“...”
“I’m gonna cast Hellfire.”
“ Merlin. You’ll die. And then I’d have to finish this alone.”
“Hey, I’m not dead yet.”
“Oh, gods, even worse. I’d have to continue with Gwaine .”
“Hey!”
“Can I cast Hellfire now?”
“You’re an idiot. Don’t try to cast Hellfire, there has to be some other way out of this..."
"..."
"Fine. Do what you want, Merlin. Cast your Hellfire spell, see if I care."
“Are you doing this?”
“Oh, I’m so doing this.”
“Roll.”
"..."
"Holy shit."
"No fucking way."
"Oh hell yeah."
"Oh hell fire yeah!”
“I am the greatest motherfucking sorcerer to ever walk this earth! "
“Merlin, your Hellflame is successful and powerful enough that it burns through the army of corpses. The attack nearly exhausts both your mana and stamina, leaving you weak in the knees and in need of rest. A small price to pay for success.”
“With just the three of us left alive and no map to go forward with, I think this is a good a place as any to leave off.”
“Wait, what do you mean no map ?”
“Lancelot had the map and now he’s zombie chow. I thought you knew.”
“Well, shit.”
“I mean, navigating cursed underground ruins with just the three of us and no map shouldn’t be too difficult, right?”
“...”
“... Right, guys?”