In the icy wastes of Mount McLargehuge, where the most elite of ninja snowman assassins are trained, even the guy who mops the dojo floor is fully capable of kicking your ass. And here he is, getting ready to do just that. Try not to bleed everywhere – you’ll only make him angrier.
He gets the jump on you and sweeps you off your feet. I mean literally, not in a nice romantic way. Ouch! Ooof! Ow!
You concentrate and release a Ray of Spilled Milk. The Ninja Snowman starts crying, unadvisedly.
You win the fight!
The rest of the Ninja Snowmen bow to you – well, as well as someone whose body is three big snowballs can bow. “You have proven yourself in combat, honorable adventurer,” one says. “You may request anything of us that we can provide.”
“Do you have the Obvious Plot Device?” you ask. They put their snowy heads together and confer.
“We regret to inform you that we have not seen it,” one says. “I’m afraid we are not the snowmen you are looking for.” He waves a twiggy arm and you’re convinced he’s telling the truth.