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The Dragon of Life

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[Sep. 5th, 2011|10:30 pm]
The Dragon of Life
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With the confirmed absences and subsequent winnowing of the group to four, a long-time player but first-time DM has finally elected to take up the reins of leadership and run a campaign! We join our heroes as they finalize a new set of characters!

Inferian: Wilder, with a blaster build inspired by Another Gaming Comic (which should be worrying in and of itself). A displaced noble who wishes to overthrow the corrupt aristocracy.
Calinai: A cleric/mage aiming for Mystic Theurge with an eventual arcane focus. A member of the Sedai organization, which mages (primarily female) belong to.
Valiha: A fey’ri duskblade from the waste. Don’t get too attached, the character will only last a few sessions before the +2 LA finally frustrates the player too much.
Falgrim: Dwarven fighter, specializing in the greatsword. From the far-distant north.

Our game begins with the tail ends of character creation!

Inferian: What traditional enemies of my people might I be called upon to negotiate with?
Calinai: The DM is totally about what’s to come, like midgets and clowns, for the first campaign. It is awesome.
DM: Clown spiders everywhere. Midget undeads.
Inferian: Is this a complete rehash of my campaign, except clown or midget appends to everything? That’d be great.
DM: No. I’ve inserted little nods and winks to some of the previous campaigns but nothing overt.

The player coordinate languages.

Inferian: I am the master of Will saves!
Falgrim: Excellent, I’m the master of Fort saves.
Calinai: What is it?
Inferian: +9.
Calinai: Jesus Christ.
DM: Make a Reflex saving throw.
Inferian: Oh, that’s not so good…

The usual PC-comparing ensues, as everyone brags as best they can. Inferian points out that they’ll all be leaning on Falgrim until the party steps up and gets competent in a few levels. Inferian, who plans to take a level in thrallherd, awaits the arrival of his army in two levels.

Calinai: From what Inferian told me, not only will we be able to throw them at enemies to shield ourselves from the damage, we can eat them for sustenance if we get trapped on an island.
Inferian: It’s true, I can do whatever I want to them and nothing bad comes to me from it. Unlike the normal Leadership feat.
Calinai: That would tear up your Leadership. That would destroy it!
Inferian: Exactly. “Minions eaten,” that’s a slight penalty.
Falgrim: ‘Slight’.
Calinai: Even just having minions die in combat is a deteriment.
Inferian: Wasting them, sending them on a suicide charge. That’s bad.

Inferian checks the thrallherd tables curiously, wondering what his Cloak of Charisma will bump him up to.

DM: I should put you all on a boat and have a kraken eat all his followers.
Inferian: I haven’t got them yet!
DM: That’s why they’re late. Because they’ve been eaten.
Inferian: …damn you, kraken.
Calinai: “Hopefully our next leader won’t eat us like our last one.”
Inferian: They show up, they see me with a knife and fork.
Falgrim: Smacking your lips.
Calinai: Big sign that says WE, the word DON’T is written in with an arrow, EAT HENCHMEN.
Inferian: You know, technically, since there’s nothing that stops these guys from coming back, you could set up an all-you-can-eat barbecue right outside town. Eventually I could eliminate the population of the world, and then it’s just us… Twenty-four hours later, boop! “HOW?! HOW?!” Thrallherd is such an insane class if you read-as-written…
DM: Valiha! Wanting to see the rest of the world, that isn’t a barren wasteland—
Valiha: Yeah…
Inferian: “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” “Grass.” “WOW!”
DM: You enlist yourself with a caravan that crosses the Dragon Wall into the wetlands. In your travels you broke off from the rest of them since they were about business, which was none of yours. Along the actual roadways most everybody that you’ve come across that is not rooted down in an area is heading to the south. You find yourself eventually just kind of meandering that way, trying to find out what all the hullabaloo is. As you get closer to where everybody’s going, you overhear things on the road. Everyone’s heading to Ilian –

The group pauses to verify that this is not Ilien in Cerilia. The DM continues, explaining that the first Great Hunt of the Horn has been called for the first time in centuries, which is a big deal. The DM pauses due to, well, antics.

DM: Why are you showing me nuts?!
Calinai: It’s wasabi and soy sauce!
Inferian: Wow, that’s gonna sound wrong in a purely audio transcription.
DM: Eh. I look forward to the next time.
Inferian: Open that up and let’s get a hand on those nuts!
DM: Anyway, it sounds fairly interesting…
Inferian: (cracks up)
Valiha: You’re in the six-year-old section right there.
Inferian: (stops mid-laugh due to choking on a nut) …damn you, justice!
Calinai: (cracks up in turn)

Valiha seeks out lodging, but finds many inns full. She finds lodging at a convenient inn which MAY PLAY A PART later.

DM: Inferian!
Inferian: (turns his full, awesome attention on the DM)
DM: Oh god. I’m gonna have to look at THIS whenever I’m DMing for you.
Calinai: Why do you think I giggle all the time?
DM: Master of Magnetism? Roll for initiative! No, do not do that.
Inferian: Now make a Reflex saving throw. OH LOOK I’m making a Reflex saving throw for no fucking reason, how does it feel? Oh, I failed.
DM: I’ve never made a Reflex saving throw for no reason—
Inferian: YES YOU DO. We’ve recorded many a time.
DM: …okay. Maybe I have.

Inferian has left his homeland after the betrayal of his noble family.

Inferian: I’ve told them screw you all I’m outta here, I’ll be back with an army later to take you out except I didn’t say that out loud, within their earshot, you know, the whole principle of not getting arrows to the back, I’m generally opposed to that.
Calinai: Well it’s a pity that one of the poor mooks out there just happened to be a telepath, level 9. He read his mind.

Inferian is heading south to Ilian as well, as part of his plan for justice.

Inferian: I must make a name for myself so that men of virtue and prowess will be attracted to my banner.
DM: And since the Great Hunt of the Horn has been called, such men as you seek will be gathered from all parts of the land.
Inferian: Surely if I were to find the horn, my name would go down in the history books. This would surely earn me the place that I need to recruit men of prowess and valor.
DM: Be aware, however, the Great Hunt is usually called in the hopes of bringing together people in pursuit of valorous deeds. The prophecies that state – that have information pertaining to the actual finding of the horn state that it will be found when the last battle draws near. Basically the great blight to the north will just open up and lots of bad stuff will swarm south… lots of end of the world type stuff.
Inferian: Let’s hope I don’t find it, but that won’t stop me from trying.
DM: The horn itself has the ability to call back from the grave ancient heroes, anywhere from two hundred years to two hundred thousand years ago.
Inferian: Still, those ancient heroes would really help.
Calinai: “I have summoned you back to help with my petty problems!”
Falgrim: “I have a hangnail.” Buh BAAAAH!
DM: They will follow whoever blows the horn. If an uppity orog had the horn slipped to him under the table, then were to blow it, those heroes would then follow that orog. Even if he didn’t know any words to activate the horn.

Inferian enters the city, as the DM talks about the city and its society.

Inferian: “So this is how the peasants live. It kinda sucks.”
Calinai: He says this out loud…
Inferian: It was an internal monologue!

Inferian spies many warriors about the street, of varying social status. Inferian continues to monologue his every action as he seeks out an inn. CONVENIENTLY he finds the same inn Valiha ended up at (the Sign of the Chipped Oar). He enters to find the innkeep polishing a tankard.

DM: “Hey there. What can we be offerin’ ye at the Sign of the Chipped Oar?”
Inferian: “I seek refreshments and lodgings.”
Valiha: “Hey there sailor.”
DM: “Well we’ve got both in plenty, though we expect to be filled up by this time tomorrow.”
Inferian: “Then it is fortunate I am here now.” I put down money. A gold piece.
DM: “Ah! Refreshment till ye can drink no more! And what kind of room would you be wantin’?”
Inferian: “A fine one would be most suited to my nature.”
DM: “Well then, of course, we can spruce that up when the time comes. Take a seat, I can have the…” What would they call it, like in this setting? Like a bellhop…. Aaaah, whatever. The stableboy.
Inferian: (suddenly noticing Calinai playing with Magic cards) Why would you cast Howl from Beyond on your Wall of Blood?! That’s a terrible tactical decision!
Calinai: I wasn’t thinking at the time! Thought that was a monster.

Inferian is shown to his room, then returns to the common room to observe the populace and seek men of prowess and valow.

DM: That would lead me to… Falgrim!

The Overthane of Shainarr has sent many dwarfs out, including Falgrim, because the Blight is much too quiet. Falgrim is sent the furthest, attracted by the Hunt of the Horn and hoping to speak to the King of Ilian. It’s a grueling trip.

DM: You have, like, a pony?

A very long pause.

Falgrim: Okay.
DM: Only for pack-carrying purposes! This pony’s not for riding!
Falgrim: Wild boars…?

The armed and armored Falgrim is hailed by the guards as he steps in the gate. One on the ground speaks with him.

DM: “Master dwarf! Do ye be down all the way from the Borderlands?”
Falgrim: “Aye, all the way from Taisharr.”
DM: “Great Sc-“ Wait, no, I can’t use ‘great Scott’…
Inferian: “Great Barscht!”
Calinai: “Great googley-schmoogley!”
Falgrim: “Blood and bloody ashes!”
DM: “As I drink and breathe!”
Inferian: “Why are the ashes bloody?” “You don’t want to know!”
Calinai: “His ashes were SO bloody…”
DM: “As I do drink and breathe, you be just in time for the blessin’.”
Falgrim: “Aye, should be interestin’.”
DM: “Well it’s not until tomorrow, maybe ye’d be interested in a place to stay for the night.”
Falgrim: “Would ya recommend any place?”
DM: “Well my cousin always stays, bein’ a merchant captain and all, always stays at the Sign of the Chipped Oar. Doesn’t get him too far into the city, but close enough to cause trouble!”
Inferian: I know Falgrim just wants to say, “Chipped Oar?! That’s a stupid name! Find a better place!”
Calinai: The Big-Tittied Cup.
Inferian: Jugs and Mugs.

Inferian and Calinai high-five.

DM: “That would be down by the waterfront.”
Calinai: I like the sound of this place! I’m trying to envision the sign now.
DM: It’s an oar with a chip in it!
All: No, no, no, no, no.
Calinai: Jugs and Mugs!
Valiha: It’s boobies with two beer mugs right here.
Calinai: Covering up the nipples, censored.
Inferian: “Aah, the delicate needs of the children, ye know.”
Calinai: Yeah, ‘cuz they would be in this type of town. It’s right across from the children’s theme park… where the adults go.

Falgrim heads in. Dwarves are clearly respected by warriors, as he earns many nods as he passes in. He reaches his destination, dropping off the pony with the quite-impressed stableboy, then enters the inn proper.

Inferian: “A dwarf… they DO exist.”
Falgrim: You’ve seen several in the streets already.
Calinai: He’s too snobby! He was like, eyes up here like this, not seeing down.
Inferian: “That door opened by itself! What caused it?”
Falgrim: I saddle up to the bar.
Inferian: You meant sidle.
Falgrim: Sidle, thank you.
DM: The stout innkeeper… “Well, as I do drink and breathe! It be a stout dwarf all the way from down… look like a Shainarran?”
Falgrim: “It’s the topknot, isn’t it.”
DM: “Oh aye!”
Inferian: (makes an electric razor noise, with a ‘shaving’ gesture)
Falgrim: “Who did that?! AAAAAAAAAAAGH!”
Calinai: And thus the campaign was over.
Valiha: Before it even began, because Inferian shaved the dwarf.
Inferian: Ahh, dwarf-shaving, it’s derailed many a fine game.

Falgrim indicates he would be happy with simply a pallet on the stairs. The innkeeper puts him in a small room in the upstairs, feeling he wouldn’t mind.

Inferian: With a halfling in it.
Falgrim: “There’s a goddamn halfing in here…”
Inferian: “Hello, roomie! I warn you I can only spoon on my right!”

The DM turns to Calinai, who is still playing with Magic cards. Calinai has recently joined the Sisterhood proper, attaining a respectable rank In large part, her journey is motivated by the need for her to get out and see the world, as well as find a Warder – a bodyguard.

Calinai: “I don’t need a stinking warder. My sister didn’t need one.”
Inferian: (who knows exactly who Calinai based her character off of) Your sister was a Knight of Cepheid. I mean a paladin.

Robed and vaguely disguised, Calinai heads down to the city along with everyone else. She ends up at the inn with barely a pretext of plot, taking note of the important PCs in the process. The inn, however, is full up

Inferian: Uh-oh, if I know Slayers, this can only end in COMEDY!

Inferian busies himself rolling character stats with the WORST GROUP OF D6s EVER. Calinai discovers that Valiha is also a redhead and attempts to change her hair color to purple. Falgrim again says he’ll be happy to sleep under the stairs, but the innkeep wants to sound out Calinai first.

DM: “Ho there!”
Inferian: What did he call you?!
Inferian: They call all women hos! It’s just SEXISM!
DM: I’ll add two fucking letters to it and say the same thing. “AHOY there!”
Calinai: “Avast ye!”

Some men in the bar start preparing some lecherous comments, but Valiha offers her space, while Falgrim starts staring down the men in question. The innkeep takes note of Calinai’s coins and realizes she’s a vistor from the Tower. Inferian eavesdrops on it with a massively high Listen check. After a massive amount of screwing around, the group actually interacts!

Calinai: “What brings you here?”
Valiha: “Just curiosity.”
Calinai: “Oh. What is happening here, anyway? There’s a lot of people here.”
Valiha: “It’s called the Hunt for the Horn. What that is precisely, I don’t know.”
Calinai: “Oh, I’ve heard of this from the Tower. They do this – they look for a horn, but it also means the time of the end. People want to find it but at the same time they don’t want to find it.”
DM: People – the ones that actually think about it are like, maybe they shouldn’t find it… But people that have no clue whatsoever what’s going on –
Calinai: They’re dumbasses about it!

The group imagines that the horn, blown backwards, summons halflings. Inferian openly declares he will brood in the corner. The DM describes a few of the people he might be looking at.

Inferian: We shall see if they are men of prowess and valor.
DM: Especially the women.
Inferian: It will be difficult for them, but they might manage.
Calinai: I’m kinda watching him. He’s like stoking his beard, but he doesn’t have one! He’s just whipping his chin around! I don’t understand!
Inferian: I’ve been taught poorly.

Beard style habits become a discussion of metal-tipping a beard for damage. Patrons drift out of the tavern slowly at the end of the night. Falgrim’s unceasing drinking begins to alarm the innkeep, so Falgrim courteously switches brew. Inferian’s brooding has people on-edge and looking over their shoulders to see if he’s still staring. The innkeep has found himself in a helpless cycle of polishing the mug Falgrim just finished to keep offering him refills in clean mugs. The innkeep advises them to leave as early as possible to get their Blessing from the King; heeding his advice, they retire.

Calinai: We come out to find a knife in the door with a note.
Inferian: “You will die.”
Calinai: “Oops, sorry. Wrong room. Don’t worry about this note. In fact I probably should’ve just taken this note away rather than writing on it. Sorry. I just kinda kept babbling on about it. Don’t worry about reading the next note. Why are you reading this note?”

Somehow the inn donkey is trained as a rooster to wake them all in the morning. The group wakes up unusually late, and lazily heads out.

Calinai: “Breakfast would be a good idea.:”
DM: “Oh, ye do be awake!”
Calinai: He like pops up from behind the counter!
DM: Well, he hasn’t moved all night, just like people in JRPGs. “Here I am!” He miht walk maybe five feet over, then five feet back, and walking in place, always walking in place! “Well I thought ye’d never be up and about, ye’re practically the last souls in the inn!”
Calinai: “Wow, everybody’s left already? It’s so early.”
DM: “Well, I told ya ye’d be early. Will ye be ordering breakfast, then?”
Calinai: “Certainly!”
Inferian: “Eggs.”
DM: Oh, are you awake then.
Inferian: …No.
Calinai: He like, rolls down the stairs! Doesn’t bother to really wake up, just rollll!
DM: It’s late enough in the morning that a gentle rap… outside your door.
Inferian: “Time ta wake up! Stop that chillin’! Cuz if ya don’t get there ya gonna be illin’!” “Energy ray.”
DM: It’s enough to wake you up.
Inferian: I rise! Riiiiiiiise.
Calinai: “Room service! Roooom service! Housekeeping! You want happy ending?!”
Inferian: “Who do I look like? The head of the IMF?”
Calinai: She opens up a book. The head of the IMF has a picture of you next to it
Inferian: “Interesting. I was not informed of this. It is time to wake myself.”
DM: She informs you that the other patrons have left the inn.
Inferian: “Then I shall go partake of breakfast.” WHICH LEADS US TO “Eggs.”
Falgrim: Please tell me you eat them in a strange manner.

Falgrim joins the group as well, finally, but soon leaves! The bartender continues to urge them to go to the Blessing. Calinai attempts to end-around by seeing the Chancellor and get an audience, but the innkeep informs them that the Chancellor is also at the Blessing.

Calinai: “EVERYBODY‘s at this thing?”
DM: “Aye. You may as well go as a group!”
Inferian: Subtle little hint there.
Falgrim: Meanwhile: Clank, clank, “How did I get back here?”
Inferian: No, there’s just one guy that’s standing in front of the door.
Falgrim: “I need ya ta move out of the way, please. Sir. Sir, please-“
Inferian: “Welcome to the Chipped Oar!”
Falgrim: “Sir could you please move out of the –“
Inferian: “Welcome to the Chipped Oar!”
Calinai: “Perhaps I will join you on your little… excavation to the square, dwarf sir. I’m sorry, I did not catch your name last night.”
Falgrim: …remember, I left.
Calanai: Oh. I though he was stopped by the crazy civilian.
DM: “YE MAY AS WELL GO AS A GROUP!” The dwarf has hightailed it out of the doors after basically doing this with his plate: (motioning as if tipping back a plate)
Inferian: I am finished with these eggs, which I have eaten in a strange manner for no apparent reason.
DM: “I trust you found the refreshment to your liking?”
Inferian: “It was excellent. And now I’m off.” Riiiise.
Falgrim: You say that out loud. “Riiiiise.”

The city is empty and they can see Falgrim in the distance. They bow to the inevitable and join the dwarf.

Calinai: No matter where we walk, we all end up as a group.
Inferian: “Interesting, there are walls of force all over these side passages.”
DM: You’re looking for mooks?
Inferian: I’m not looking for mooks, I’m looking for men of prowess and valor!
Calanai: So far he’s found two women and a dwarf!
DM: MOPV does not make as easy an acronym to say as ‘mook’ so think of something that fits!
Inferian: MOProV.
Calinai: Inferian’s like, “Hello, group. I am here for an adventure with you.”
Inferian: “I’m heading off in the same direction as all of you. I assume we will be sorted into one group to see the king for the chancellor’s convenience.”
Valiha: Gryffindor!
Calinai: Fifty points to Gryffindor!
DM: Hufflepuff! You’re sorted into Hufflepuff.

The PCs reach the main plaza, and begin down the empty space in the crowd intended for adventurers and horn-seekers. In the distance, they spy the king!

Calinai: Cleaning his mug.
Falgrim: Ilianers are a bunch of mug-scrubbers!
Calinai: Everyone’s like, “What’s it to you?”
Inferian: This is why they’re our traditional enemies, we’re a bunch of mug-dirties.
Calinai: He’s over there dipping mugs into the dirt on purpose!
Inferian: “A dirty mug gives the best taste.”

The PCs reach the king. Calinai steps forward to give him her message. Falgrim steps up next to talk of the quiet at the Borderlands. Inferian signs up for the Hunt, to the king’s surprise. He next turns to Valiha.

DM: “Something about you…”
Inferian: “You’re a… a what’s it called, a girl. I’ve heard of your kind.”

Valiha tells of her Waste heritage. The king steps back and raises his hand as the guards around him begin to back away.

DM: The king – the two of you recognize it for what it is. One moment the king is standing there, the next a fifty-foot-tall golden dragon is standing where the king once stood. Says some words in draconic – even to those of you who speak Draconic, it’s mostly just mumbo-jumbo. Something like, “Aaah, I swallowed a couple gnomes this morning...”
Inferian: “Reroute all power to the main deflector.”
DM: “Who is this? What’s your operating number?”
DM: However a spell has definitely been cast on all assembled. You can see the gems encrusted in his hide sparkle, maybe with morning light, or something else. You feel a bit of something wash over you. When that’s done, the king, still in his natural dragon form, says, “All right, that’s enough of that. Off with ya.”
Calinai: “I kinda wish, when they sent me off on this journey, they had given me some notes about the town, and a king that can TURN INTO A –ING DRAGON!”
Inferian: It’s always funny when Calinai censors himself.
DM: Sweringan’s head, as people begin to file out, lowers down to your group once more.
Inferian: Opening his mouth, fire pours out.
DM: “You, dwarf, you can stand for some weakening!”
Inferian: Roll for initative!
DM: I would hope you don’t want to do that at this time…
Falgrim: No no no!
Inferian: As in don’t bother, you can’t win…. (rolls a die) Good news, I won!
DM: He flies away, frightened!
Inferian: “Fuck, I should’ve never allowed this class!”
Falgrim: (singing) Time to level up, several levels!
Calinai: I’m waiting for Inferian to, one day we start a game and he’s like, “I’ve designed this character, whenever I roll a 20, whatever it is, dies.” “What, wait.” He goes over all these rules and it works. “How does he do this?!”
Falgrim: “I can smell you… thief.”
Inferian: I ride a barrel, he’ll never see that one coming.
Calinai: I summon a gorilla who throws barrels.
Inferian: I ride a barrel, that is filled with alchemist’s fire, and is dropped from above, by another dragon. YEEEHAAA! YEAAAAAAHAAAAAA! BOOOOM!

The king agrees to send 100 armsman north to reinforce the Waste. The King then advises Calinai that a fellow sister of hers had come through, but never returned. He tells them she went west.

DM: He turns to the council…
Inferian: Eats them.
DM: Tilts his head sideways at them, he goes, “All right, get out, the lot of ya.” Shoots a jet of flame into the air and takes off into the skies.
Inferian: I don’t think he has very many points in Diplomacy…
Falgirm: He’s just a laid-back king.
Calinai: Who’s a dragon.
Inferian: “Well, I am off to find the horn, or hopefully not find it. If I were a horn, where would I be?”
Calinai: Somehow I stumble upon the trail.
Valiha: “On someone’s head?”
Inferian: “Horn, this way.”
Falgrim: You just go back to the horn shop and start blowing every one of them. “Let’s start in the obvious spot!”
Calinai: “Uh, sir, this, no, sir, the horn, no it’s not in this store, sir. Sir, that’s not a horn, it’s a hat.”
Inferian: “IT’S A HORN NOW!”
Calinai: “Sir – guards. Guards.” “Uh, sorry, buddy, he’s looking for a horn. No one’s ever done this before, but it’s allowed. I just looked at the rules.”

The group returns to the inn to gather their stuff. The serving wench notices them, and asks them to come over.

Falgrim: GASP! Plot!
Inferian: PEW! That stopped it! Now back to the horn. Oh wait, wait, I didn’t decide to go to the evil side this time. I was very temped…

Somehow King Sweringan becomes Foghorn Leghorn. The serving girl gives them a folded-up, sealed parchment. It names all four of the PCs, and tells them they will all find what they seek to the west. Hanging lampshades, the players agree to work as a group. The DM calls Inferian “evil Aibghalien”, prompting the player to adopt a gravelly, low voice for the character.

Inferian: I interrogate the serving wench as to who may have left this message.
DM: “I don’t know that, sir! It was left to me by the innkeeper.”
Inferian: SENSE. MOTIVE. I’m sure she’s telling the truth, but nevertheless.

She wasn’t lying, though is a little alarmed at being interrogated. The players take a time-out to savage Terry Goodkind. Savage him. SAVAGE HIM VICIOUSLY AS HE DESERVED.

Falgrim: What?!

Inferian looks up the evil pacifists and cheerfully reads the quotes, with much yelling of EVIL and PACIFISTS.

Calinai: Are you, like, the Angry Book Nerd?
DM: If you read it, you’d be angry too.

With a supreme force of will, the players force themselves away from attacking Terry Goodkind, and onto… E.T. directed by Michael Bay. Inferian weeps sadly in a corner. After taking some time to recover, the group finally sets off. However, they are stopped at the west gate by a guard!

DM: “Oh, do you be the Sedai then?”
Calinai: “Yes.”
DM: “I’ve been given instructions—“
Calinai: (seamlessly interjecting) “To mug and rape you.” “Oh… that makes me sad.”
DM: “Nice as that might be, my instructions do not include it!”

In fact, the guard is providing them with mounts! They mount up and leave the city at last with their mounts and a pack donkey.

Inferian: Once we exit the city, I draw forth the spearpoint that I keep unattached from the spear and reattach it, so now my staff is a weapon once more.
DM: A weapon? “FIIIIIIIRE!”
Inferian: We’re out of the city!
DM: They’re firing from the walls!
Falgrim: And yet I had no problem with this big sword on my back.
Inferian: (flicks off the city and/or the DM)
Calinai: An arrow pierces the finger exactly.
DM: But you don’t look sinister!
Inferian: They hate spears.
DM: A Tarranian carrying a weapon of dogs!
Inferian: I have been carrying a morningstar this entire time, but it isn’t a spear!

Onto the road, they pass many people! One friendly person greets them, advising them that the next town is half a day’s ride from their position. No one quite understands why.

Calinai: “I’ve just punched the coordinates into Lady Windabell’s GPS.”
Inferian: “Turn right… here.”
Falgrim: “Neigh.”
Calinai: “Turn right… at the gilded… tree.”
Inferian: “Turn right… here.” “There’s no road!”
Falgrim: “Do it. Or else.”
Inferian: “Recalculating route.”
Calinai: “I TURNED THE WAY YOU WANTED ME TO! Why are you recalculating?!”
Inferian: Maybe you should get that GPS installed on something with more than animal intelligence.
Calinai: Lady Windabell will now kick the rude individual.

They reach the next town. Butchers offer them half-price meat because they’re hunters of the horn! No one can cook, though… Nevertheless, because it has reached late in the afternoon, they make a deal for a large quantity of dried meat to see them through, and elect to spend the night.

Inferian: “That seems like a wise plan.”
Calinai: “…do you have a cold?”
Inferian: “No.”
Falgrim: “He’s just got one of them gravelly voices.”
Calinai: “You sound like you swallowed blades!”
Inferian: “My family partook of many cigars and other such fineries when I was a child.”

The group mocks Inferian’s transparent lie. They head onwards, finding their inn: The Sign of the Starboard Wave.

Calinai: That’s pretty good. I can’t come up with decent names like that. They always end up being stuff like “The Tilted Chair.” “The Mug of Ale.”
Inferian: I can’t believe you guys didn’t go into “The Bar Fight.”

They enter into the clean, well-kept tavern. Calinai insists it must be run by a woman, then promptly lampshades her own inherent sexism after being surrounded by females for years. The DM attempts to describe the drinks, bursts into coughing, and good-naturedly endures teasing about how no one should drink THAT drink! They find themselves on the trail of the previous Sedai – who, curiously, left town to the north, where nothing is! A gentleman across the room agrees to draw up a map for them to guide them.

Calinai: (to Inferian) With Charisma that high you ought to be able to talk like a normal son of a bitch…

The NPC reveals that there are RUINS up to the north! The group makes arrangements to stay the night.

Inferian: She gives us two rooms, based on who she believes is sleeping with whom. There’s no combination that wouldn’t end up awkward.
Falgrim: Nope! Nnnope.
DM: “Some extra company be what you needin’ this evening?”
Calinai: “We have some very special dwarven ladies for him!” This is all of a sudden Dragon Age.
Inferian: By “very special dwarven ladies” they mean they’re just human women but they have fake beards on.
Falgrim: “I want me money back.”
Inferian: “NO REFUNDS!”
DM: I thought by ‘special ladies’ you meant ‘ENCHANTMENT!’ ladies…
Calinai: That’s it, you’ve gone too far! Pull back! Pull back!
Inferian: I can SEE the flames of Hell!

The group awkwardly stays the night. They wake up to find a breakfast prepared for them, and the innkeeper has even brought their supplies over to save them time!

Inferian: We’re meeting nice people in this campaign. See, this is how you can tell he’s new to DMing.
DM: It’s just the beginning…
Calinai: See, you don’t have to make everyone an asshole. I always make assholes for you because I don’t LIKE you.
DM: I started you in Ilian so it wouldn’t be one barfight after another, a struggle to get you out of the city.
Calinai: Soon, you’ll be like, “You guys can take a boat somewhere…”

They set out, following the map. Calinai accuses Inferian of attempting to lure out random encounters. The day passes uneventfully, however, and so the group settles in to take watches. Inferian, in first watch, hears rustling in the bushes! It is a rabbit flushed from cover. He wisely realizes that something must have flushed the rabbit out and manifests Vigor on himself for 15 temporary HP.

Falgrim: I manifest destiny on myself.
Inferian: And you expand westwards!
DM: You notice something, or rather the absence of something you had heard until a moment ago. That would be the chirping of the insects.
Inferian: I will rise to wake Falgrim.
Falgrim: (sleepy mutter and grumble) -- wait wait wait wait, you said ‘rise.’ Come on!
Inferian and Falgrim: “Riiiiiise.”

He hears a wolf howl – but not a typical wolf howl! As Falgrim awakes, Inferian manifests Share Pain! Worgs burst into their encampment and initiative is rolled! A furious squabble erupts over Players’ Handbooks. Inferian and Calinai go first. Calinai uses Fiery Burst to blast one worg; Inferian zaps one with Energy Ray.

DM: It utters a series of growls and howling.
Inferian: “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
DM: Well it seems to be speaking to the other wolf.
Inferian: “You okay man? That looks like it hurts!”
DM: Something along those lines…

Falgrim hews a wolf for 24 points of damage with his greatsword. Valiha channels Shocking Grasp through her longsword and plunges it through another worg’s breast.

DM: It brings the wolf clean off of its forepaws. It lets out a howl of pain, sounding not even wolfish in its agony. It howls again in some sort of wolfish tongue.
Inferian: “Really shouldn’t have picked a fight with these guys!”
Valiha: “Shit!”
Falgrim: “Whyyyy? Whyyyy? Whyyyyy?!”

The worg bites at Valiha but she avoids it. A worg attempts to trip Falgrim and fails. Calinai falls asleep. Inferian fires off another Energy Ray and drops it.

Inferian: My fire finger and my cold finger. Never do this: (touching his fingers together, which somehow erupts into a DBZ-class explosion)

Calinai is still asleep, so her turn is skipped and Falgrim lops off the worg’s head. Calinai bolts awake, as the other players enjoy a hearty laugh at her expense. The characters return to sleep! Inferian lampshades the fact that there will only be one random encounter per night ever. Somehow the talk turns to racist games, such as Racial Holy War: the Game, the contents of which will not be discussed here, as even this transcriber has limits on what he will reproduce. It is pointed out, however, that it’s still a better game than FATAL. It gets weird.

Inferian: I’m not a reverend! …much!
DM: After you strike you notice, if the map the old-timer drew you is reliable –
Calinai: Even on the map it shows here two dire wolves attacking us. Why didn’t we see this on the map? We shoulda known.
DM: You should easily make the site of the ruins. After about an hour’s march you’ve cleared the forest, or at least the area of the forest you were in.
Falgrim: (chopping motions, with accompanying sound effects)
DM: You clear away the forest.
Valiha: Nonononono. Pew, pew!
DM: Yeah, just set it on fire.
Inferian: I rested, I have my power pellets points back.
DM: The wolves turn blue and run away!

The group reaches the valley of the ruins. Calinai rolls a Knowledge(History) check, and so believes it is a remnant from the Age of Legends. Inferian attempts to recruit Falgrim to his side. The ruins are rough and hindering terrain, so the group leaves their mounts just inside the ruins proper and ventures forth on foot. There is little to see that might give them clues in the ruins, so the group begins seeking a trap door. Valiha finds an iron latch in the middle of what was once a great dome, and they open one of a pair of doors to find stairs leading downwards. The mounts are freaking out. Inferian hears a harsh voice speaking Goblin. Several large goblinoids, bugbears, burst out from behind ruined columns – and the game ends on that note.