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Master Assassin
Level 15
Armor Class: 0
Speed: 12
Magic Resistance: 30
Alignment: Neutral
Attacks:
- uses weapon : 2d6 drains str (poison)
- uses weapon : 2d8 ordinary physical
- claw (punch, hit, etc.) : 2d6 hits, may steal Amulet (Wizard)
Weight: 1450
Nutrition: 400
Resistances:
- resists petrification
Other attributes:
- has humanoid head/arms/torso
- omnivorous
- players mayn't poly into one
- is a human
- strong (or big) monster
- always starts hostile
- follows you to other levels
- extra-nasty monster (more xp)
- picks up weapons and food
- picks up magic items
- wants the quest artifact
- waits to see you or get attacked
- visible by infravision
He strolled down the stairs, followed by a number of assassins.
When he was directly in front of Ymor he said: "I've come for
the tourist." ...
"One step more and you'll leave here with fewer eyeballs than
you came with," said the thiefmaster. "So sit down and have
a drink, Zlorf, and let's talk about this sensibly. _I_
thought we had an agreement. You don't rob -- I don't kill.
Not for payment, that is," he added after a pause.
Zlorf took the proffered beer.
"So?" he said. "I'll kill him. Then you rob him. Is he that
funny looking one over there?"
"Yes."
Zlorf stared at Twoflower, who grinned at him. He shrugged.
He seldom wasted time wondering why people wanted other people
dead. It was just a living.
"Who is your client, may I ask?" said Ymor.
Zlorf held up a hand. "Please!" he protested. "Professional
etiquette."
[ The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett ]
When he was directly in front of Ymor he said: "I've come for
the tourist." ...
"One step more and you'll leave here with fewer eyeballs than
you came with," said the thiefmaster. "So sit down and have
a drink, Zlorf, and let's talk about this sensibly. _I_
thought we had an agreement. You don't rob -- I don't kill.
Not for payment, that is," he added after a pause.
Zlorf took the proffered beer.
"So?" he said. "I'll kill him. Then you rob him. Is he that
funny looking one over there?"
"Yes."
Zlorf stared at Twoflower, who grinned at him. He shrugged.
He seldom wasted time wondering why people wanted other people
dead. It was just a living.
"Who is your client, may I ask?" said Ymor.
Zlorf held up a hand. "Please!" he protested. "Professional
etiquette."
[ The Colour of Magic, by Terry Pratchett ]