Found: After you get the Reparo spell from Hermione and you hit the switch to let your team into the dungeon you're in, go forward and repair the bridge there. Kill the Hinkypunks on the other side and the treasure chest on the platform will be able to be gotten to, holding this enemy's information.
doxy my little dungeon
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Professor Rowan shows up, a little worried that something might have happened to Hareta. He asks Rowan what happened to "that weird Pokémon". They then see Deoxys, and Rowan is shocked to see such a rare Pokémon. It transforms to Attack Forme and fires off a Psycho Boost at Hareta and Rowan. Rowan tells Hareta not to make it any angrier, but instead, he jumps on top of Deoxys and asks what's wrong. It flings him off, then tries to fire another Psycho Boost at him, but he jumps around it, evading it completely. He jumps on it again, but it transforms to Speed Forme while he is still on it. It starts flying around the forest with Hareta, while he asks Deoxys what's wrong once more. It tells him what's wrong, but it throws him off itself. Then he battles Deoxys with his friends from the forest. Onix tries to Headbutt it, but it misses. It transforms to Defense Forme, and then Hareta jumps on Deoxys and covers its eyes. Then he tells a bunch of Kricketune to have a "super bug concert". Rowan compliments him on the super-effectiveness of the attack, then it transforms back to Normal Forme. It becomes calmer, but transforms to Attack Forme and fires off another Psycho Boost, this time hitting a Drifloon. It explodes, defeating Deoxys. Deoxys is totally calm now, and it merges its tentacles to create a hand, and it shakes hands with Hareta. Hareta finishes telling the story to Mitsumi, and tells her that it wanted to find out more about this planet.
Harsh words are given to any suggestion of "monster" player characters, with the claim that it would take a modern Renaissance Man to appropriately prepare for a campaign where the alien non-human viewpoint is dominant. Nevertheless, this is followed by two pages on lycanthropy, including a damage table for wearing armour when "the change" occurs, although the suggestion that ring and chainmail has "straps" that break is a little odd. Finally, there is, yet again, a summary of alignment with a clear statement of the definition of "good" in AD&D: "Each creature is entitled to life, relative freedom and the prospect of happiness"; remember that next time you're slaying orcs. There is the excellent suggestion of an alignment graph - but without any guidelines on its use - except in terms of punishment if any PC strays from their stated perspective according to the GMs adverserial fiat; a great idea without any substance to the proposed execution.
The brief section on economics largely suggests that the game is more heroic if the PCs have vast quantities of treasure to splash about and that the more TREASURE (capital in text) to entice PCs the better, which is somewhat at odds on the next section on taxes and tithes which, unheroically, remove the PCs from their loot. The sections on monster, treasure, and magic item placement are of basic sense and utility, with the clarification that treasure type results from the Monster Manual represent total wealth being the most useful. Further there is the sensible, almost obvious suggestion to avoid "Monty Haul" and "Killer Dungeon" games. If only the author of the DMG followed these ideas through in his own modules! Finally, neither the notes on territorial development by PCs or the sample dungeon layout and play provide anything special, but nor are they problematic.
Finally, the appendicies. The Random Dungeon Generator is for people who have too much time on their hands or if you want finally to design "The Dungeon The Extremely Insane But Wealthy Interior Decorator", which is followed by The Nature Goddess of Random Geographical Features. At least deserts can't be initially adjacent to marshlands or forests and the footer artwork is terribly cute. After this one has the opportunity to populate the randomly generated dungeon with randomly generated monsters regardless with the only ecological feature being that the deeper you go, the more dangerous the monster are; rather like a chess game with multiple and more dangerous levels of a back line.
If Appendix J, of repututed and actual uses of herbs, was included the Monster Manual could have even become a bestiary. Regrettably this Appendix is concluded by the City/Town encounter which, apart from the tragic harlot generation table (everything from "slovenly trull", "expensive doxy" to "rich panderer"), tries to inform us that almost 1/3 of city encounters at night (checked every third turn) will be assasins, bandits, demons, ghosts, ghouls, rakshasa, were-beasts, wraiths, and even the occasional vampires and lich. No wonder people bolt the windows and doors shut.
The next Appendix is the random generation of the appearance of lower planes creatures. Then there's the the Appendix on how to simulate slot machines with dice (I'm not kidding), a useless table of random traps, a list of tricks for seriously unimaginative DMs, pages of tables for "dungeon dressing" (release the interior decorator), a list of adjectives for magical substances ("the potion is vapourous and variegated; a sip is bilious but smells perfumy"), useful lists of conjured and summoned animals, a short list of "inspirational reading", encumbrance of standard items (apparently the encumbrance a flask - empty or full - is "secret DMs knowledge"), and finally a useful "creating a party on the spur of the moment".
RECITATIVO 1. When lyart leaves bestrow the yird, Or, wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauld Boreas' blast; When hailstanes drive wi' bitter skyte, And infant frosts begin to bite, In hoary cranreuch drest; Ae night at e'en a merry core O' randie, gangrel bodies In Poosie-Nansie's held the splore, To drink their orra duddies: Wi' quaffing and laughing They ranted an' they sang, Wi' jumping an' thumping The vera girdle rang. 2. First, niest the fire, in auld red rags Ane sat, weel brac'd wi' mealy bags And knapsack a' in order; His doxy lay within his arm; Wi' usquebae an' blankets warm, She blinket on her sodger. An' ay he gies the tozie drab The tither skelpin kiss, While she held up her greedy gab Just like an aumous dish: Ilk smack still did crack still Like onie cadger's whup; Then, swaggering an' staggering, He roar'd this ditty up: - SONG TUNE: Soldier's Joy 1. I am a man of Mars, who have been in many wars, And show my cuts and scars wherever I come: This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench, When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum. Lal de daudle, etc. 2. My prenticeship I past, where my leader breath'd his last, When the bloody die was cast on the heights of Abram; And I served out my trade when the gallant game was play'd, And the Moro low was laid at the sound of the drum. 3. I lastly was with Curtis among the floating batt'ries, And there I left for witness an arm and a limb; Yet let my country need me, with Elliot to head me I'd clatter on my stumps at the sound of the drum. 4. And now, tho' I must beg with a wooden arm and leg, And many a tatter'd rag hanging over my bum, I'm as happy with my wallet, my bottle, and my callet As when I us'd in scarlet to follow a drum. (Note:- A callet was a drab, a dirty woman, a trull) 5. What tho' with hoary locks I must stand the winter shocks, Beneath the woods and rocks oftentimes for a home? When the tother bag I sell, and the tother bottle tell, I could meet a troop of Hell at the sound of a drum. RECITATIVO He ended; and the kebars sheuk Aboon the chorus roar; While frighted rattons backward leuk, An' seek the benmost bore: A fairy fiddler frae the neuk, He skirl'd out Encore! But up arose the martial chuck An' laid the loud uproar:- SONG TUNE: Sodger Laddie (Soldier Boy) 1. I once was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when, And still my delight is in proper young men. Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie: No wonder I'm fond of a sodger laddie! Sing, lal de dal, etc. 2. The first of my loves was swaggering blade: To rattle the thundering drum was his trade; His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy, Transported I was with my sodger laddie. 3. But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch; The sword I forsook for the sake of the church; He risked the soul, and I ventur'd the body: 'Twas then I prov'd false to my sodger laddie. 4. Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot; The regiment at large for a husband I got; From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready I asked no more but a sodger laddie. 5. But the Peace it reduc'd me to beg in despair, Till I met my old boy in a Cunningham Fair; Hid rags regimental they flutter'd so gaudy: My heart it rejoic'd at a sodger laddie. 6. And now I have liv'd - I know not how long! But still I can join in a cup and a song; And while with both hands I can hold the glass steady, Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie! RECITATIVO Poor Merry-Andrew in the neuk Sat guzzling wi' a tinkler-hizzie; They mind't na wha the chorus teuk, Between themselves they were sae busy. At length, wi' drink an' courting dizzy, He stoiter'd up an' made a face; Then turn'd an' laid a smack on Grizzie, Syne tun'd his pipes wi' grave grimace:- SONG TUNE: Auld Sir Symon (Old Sir Symon) 1. Sir Wisdom's a fool when he's fou; Sir Knave is a fool in a session: He's there but a prentice I trow, But I am a fool by profession. 2. My grannie she bought me a beuk, An' I held awa to the school: I fear I my talent misteuk, But what will ye hae of a fool? 3. For drink I wad venture my neck; A hizzie's the half of my craft: But what could ye other expect Of ane that's avowedly daft? 4. I ance was tyed up like a stirk For civilly swearing and quaffing; I ance was abus'd i' the kirk For towsing a lass i' my daffin. 5. Poor Andrew that tumbles for sport Let naebody name wi' a jeer: There's even, I'm tauld, i' the Court A tumbler ca'd the Premier. 6. Observ'd ye yon reverend lad Mak faces to tickle the mob? He rails at our mountebank squad - It's rivalship just i' the job! 7. And now my conclusion I'll tell, For faith! I'm confoundedly dry: The cheil that's a fool for himsel, Guid Lord! he's far dafter than I. RECITATIVO Then neist outspak a raucle carlin, Wha kent fu' weel to cleek the sterlin, For monie a pursie she had hooked, An' had in monie a well been douked. Her love had been a Highland laddie, But weary fa' the waefu' woodie! Wi' sighs an' sobs she thus began To wail her braw John Highlandman:- SONG TUNE: O, An' Ye Were Dead, Guidman (O, And You Were Dead, Husband) Chorus Sing hey my braw John Highlandman! Sing ho my braw John Highlandman! There's not a lad in a' the lan' Was match for my John Highlandman! 1. A Highland lad my love was born, The lalland laws he held in scorn, But he still was faithfu' to his clan, My gallant, braw John Highlandman. 2. With his philibeg, an' tartan plaid, An' guid claymore down by his side, The ladies hearts he did trepan, My gallant, braw John Highlandman. 3. We ranged a' from the Tweed to Spey, An' liv'd like lords an' ladies gay, For a lalland face he feared none, My gallant, braw John Highlandman. 4. They banish'd him beyond the sea, But ere the bud was on the tree, Adown my cheeks the pearls ran, Embracing my John Highlandman. 5. But Och! they catch'd him at the last, And bound him in a dungeon fast. My curse upon them every one - They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman! 6. And now a widow I must mourn The pleasures that will ne'er return; No comfort but a hearty can When I think on John Highlandman. RECITATIVO 1. A pigmy scraper on a fiddle, Wha us'd to trystes an' fairs to driddle, Her strappin limb an' gawsie middle (He reach'd nae higher) Had hol'd his heartie like a riddle, An' blawn't on fire. 2. Wi' hand on hainch and upward e'e, He croon'd his gamut, one, two, three, Then in an arioso key The wee Apollo Set off wi' allegretto glee His giga solo:- SONG TUNE: Whistle Owre the Lave O't (Whistle Over the Rest Of It) Chorus I am a fiddler to my trade, An' a' the tunes that e'er I play'd. The sweetest still to wife or maid Was Whistle Owre the Lave O't. 1. Let me ryke up to dight that tear; An' go wi' me an' be my dear, An' then your every care an' fear May whistle owre the lave o't. 2. At kirns an' weddins we'se be there, An' O, sae nicely 's we will fare! We'll bowse about till Daddie Care Sing Whistle Owre the Lave O't. 3. Sae merrily the banes we'll pyke, An' sun oursels about the dyke; An' at our leisure, when ye like, We'll - whistle owre the lave o't! 4. But bless me wi' your heav'n o' charms, An' while I kittle hair on thairms, Hunger, cauld, an' a' sic harms May whistle owre the lave o't. RECITATIVO 1. Her charm had struck a sturdy caird As weel as poor gut-scraper; He taks the fiddler by the beard, An' draws a roosty rapier; He swoor by a' was swearing worth To speet him like a pliver, Unless he would from that time forth Relinquish her for ever. 2. Wi' ghastly e'e poor Tweedle-Dee Upon his hunkers bended, An' pray'd for grace wi' ruefu' face, An' sae the quarrel ended. But tho' his little heart did grieve When round the tinker prest her, He feign'd to snirtle in his sleeve When thus the caird address'd her:- SONG TUNE: Clout the Cauldron (Patch the Cauldron) 1. My bonie lass, I work in brass, A tinkler is my station; I've travell'd round all Christian ground In this my occupation; I've taen the gold, an' been enrolled In many a noble squadron; But vain they search'd when off I march'd To go an' clout the cauldron. 2. Despise that shrimp, that wither'd imp, With a' his noise an' cap'rin, An' tak a share wi' those that bear The budget and the apron! And by that stowp, my faith an' houpe! And by that dear Kilbaigie! If e'er ye want, or meet wi' scant, May I ne'er weet my craigie! RECITATIVO 1. The caird prevail'd: th' unblushing fair In his embraces sunk, Partly wi' love o'ercome sae sair, An' partly she was drunk. Sir Violino, with an air That show'd a man o' spunk, Wish'd unison between the pair, An' made the bottle clunk To their health that night. 2. But hurchin Cupid shot a shaft, That play'd a dame a shavie: The fiddler rak'd her fore and aft Behint the chicken cavie; Her lord, a wight of Homer's craft, Tho' limpin' wi' the spavie, He hirpl'd up, an lap like daft, An' shor'd them ' Dainty Davie' O' boot that night. 3. He was a care-defying blade As ever Bacchus listed! Tho' Fortune sair upon him laid, His heart, she ever miss'd it. He had no wish but - to be glad, Nor want but - when he thirsted, He hated nought but - to be sad; An' thus the Muse suggested His sang that night:- SONG TUNE: For A' That, An' A' That (For All That, And All That) Chorus For a' that, an' a' that, An' twice as muckle's a' that, I've lost but ane, I've twa behin', I've wife eneugh for a' that. 1. I am a Bard, of no regard Wi' gentle folks an' a' that, But Homer-like the glowrin byke, Frae town to town I draw that. 2. I never drank the Muses' stank, Castalia's burn, an' a' that; But there it streams, an' richly reams - My Helicon I ca' that. 3. Great love I bear to a' the fair, Their humble slave an' a' that; But lordly will, I hold it still A mortal sin to thraw that. 4. In raptures sweet this hour we meet Wi' mutual love an' a' that; But for how long the flie may stang, Let inclination law that! 5. Their tricks an' craft hae put me daft, They've taen me in, an' a' that; But clear the decks, an' here's the Sex! I like the jads for a' that. Chorus For a' that, an' a' that, An' twice as muckle's a' that, I've lost but ane, I've twa behin', I've wife eneugh for a' that. RECITATIVO So sung the Bard, and Nansie's wa's (Note:- Nansie's was Nansie Posie's Inn where the celebration was taking place) Shook with a thunder of applause, Re-echo'd from each mouth! They toom'd their pocks, they pawn'd their duds, They scarcely left to coor their fuds, To quench their lowin drouth. Then owre again the jovial thrang The Poet did request To lowse his pack, an' wale a sang, A ballad o' the best: He rising, rejoicing Between his twa Deborahs, Looks round him, an' found them Impatient for the chorus:- SONG TUNE: Jolly Mortals, Fill Your Glasses Chorus A fig for those by law protected! Liberty's a glorious feast, Courts for cowards were erected, Churches built to please the priest! 1. See the smoking bowl before us! Mark our jovial, ragged ring! Round and round take up the chorus, And in raptures let us sing: 2. What is title, what is treasure, What is reputation's care? If we lead a life of pleasure, 'Tis no matter how or where! 3. With the ready trick and fable Round we wander all the day; And at night in barn or stable Hug our doxies on the hay. 4. Does the train-attended carriage Thro' the country lighter rove? Does the sober bed of marriage Witness brighter scenes of love? 5. Life is all a variorum, We regard not how it goes; Let them prate about decorum, Who have character to lose. 6. Here's to budgets, bags and wallets! Here's to all the wandering train! Here's our ragged brats and callets! One and all, cry out, Amen! 2ff7e9595c