It will bethe coldest time, but only the undead will be about." "Great." The Rogue spoke. "Corpse-sickles." "The undead are not to be taken lightly ...ieron." The Ranger spoke. "Whilethose we might face are mere zombies, ghouls, and skeletons, they are on thelow end of the scale as it were. The real threats-" "-are the liches, wraiths, and vampires." Toril finished, looking up. "Thoseyou spoke of can be fooled, but the last; the last would take much more thana mouthful of salt to stop." The. "How is this to be done?" someone asked. And God replied: "Like running an RPG." Thus the great work began: many had to have the idea of an RPG explained to them, in which the great luminaries of the Genre among them, David Arnston, Garry Gygax, and Steve Jackson, were instrumental, but soon enough, since once freed of the mortal coil one has a totally perfect memory, people from throughout history were hard at work on trillions of new campaign settings and even game systems, and the creation. “We can probably start, but our hands will get a little painted up,” said Bobby. “Once it’s installed, we’ll give it another coat or two.”“Fine,” said Prudence. “I can live with paint on my hands. Flies are coming into my house.”“Well, we don’t want that!” said Bobby, laughing. “Can you pound a nail?”“I have no idea,” said Prudence, feeling suddenly lighter on her feet than she had in years. “I’ve never tried.”“Well, then,” said the man. “You hold, and I’ll pound.”Prudence thought he was taking. I have an idea.”“I do, too.” He chuckled. It wasn’t a pleasant chuckle.It sounded evil. Somebody is in deep doodoo. I have a feeling my idea is considerably more legal than his.“We’re being followed?” I asked.“What?” said el Patrón.“We’re being followed,” I said. Fuck, you guys ... you’re going to get me in trouble.“Let’s go get my car and go home.” That was just loud enough for the ill-fitting suit to hear. He was standing next to us while gazing at women’s corsets on display in a dusty store.