We’d had enough of the weird green kobolds for one day, and pulled back into the forest to camp. The others were stressing about keeping a watch during the night, but The Bae’qeshel reminded them all that he could sleep with his eyes open. Thus reassured, the others passed directly out. The drow elf may or may not have done things to them in their sleep. The truth may never be known.
The adventurers smashed their way back into the trapped hedge maze the next morning, intent on serving up some justice (or at least getting the booze back from the thieving lizard-faced bastards). The celebration that followed their inevitable defeat of the dragon Spiketail has blurred their memories of the events, but there were a few highlights that stood out.
1) Eve of Disaster fuggin’ pwned a dragon wyrmling. Crazy bitch teleported on top of the damned thing, then blasted it to the ground at point blank range. After it was dead, Grughuge thought it would be hilarious to cut off the dragon’s head and use it as a hand puppet. And he was absolutely right. “Eve kills babies!” he kept saying in a high pitched squeaky voice while he flapped the dead wyrmlings jaws.
B – More traps. And we used to like The Gays. Not so much anymore.
Gnome: Spiketail, though a big tough green dragon himself, was no real match for the stubborn ignorance that characterizes most of the Fuckn A’s!!! exploits. Sure its breath weapon locked ‘em down and hurt ‘em a bit, but forgetting that one is hampered is a surefire way to avoid having to worry about that. (Author’s Note: The Bae’qeshel wishes to express his deepest and sincerest apologies for failing to recall that he’d been slowed and could not possibly have moved so far across the battlefield in that first round.)
They also (obviously) found several barrels of the purloined alcohol in a storage “chamber” in the hedge maze, and set to work
drinking it all reassembling a couple of the shattered wagons so they might transport it back to Backwater and into the hands of its rightful owner(s).