Primus Sinister

A Dish Best Served
Baby Dragons Make Great Hand Puppets

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).

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Beer Quest
The Quest for Beer

When we got back to town, people were freaking out. We followed the hubbub back to the Green Tankard Tavern, where we found the halfling owner guy in a heated discussion with The Bae’qeshel’s future ex-girlfriend Lady Moonfire. Not wanting to interrupt, we ordered a round of ale.

The serving wench eyed us forlornly.

“There is no ale,” she said.

That didn’t process for us for a long moment.

“What do you mean?” The Bae’qeshel finally managed.

The wench sighed.

“The caravans have stopped bringing it.”

That lit a fire up under our asses and we walked right over to the proprietor and Lady Moonfire and told them we would get on the bandit problem immediately. They were startled by our sudden exuberance, but not unhappy about it. Lady Moonfire even offered us a cash reward for proof of the deed accomplished. Hardly necessary, as we were already highly motivated.

We gathered a bit of information about the lost caravans from one of the survivors, borrowed some horses, and hit the trail.

Three days later we encountered our first kobolds. We beat them down and took a note off the soon-to-be corpse of one of the little bastards. He insisted that his boss Spiketail was gonna destroy us all. The Bae’qeshel showed him his windpipe and we progressed into the woods, which got too thick for the horses.

We found the smoldering remains of a number of wagons a little deeper in. Damned kobolds were committed to hiding the evidence of their misdeeds. They must have disassembled the damned things on the road and carried the pieces this far and then set them on fire. Bizarre lizard-minded creatures. Also, we got ambushed by a pair of thoroughly lost otyughs. They were mildly annoying, but we dispatched them.

Bloody living plants set upon us next, and we almost lost Lumiya. But that must have stung Lord Rexcelcior’s and Grughuge’s pride, because they turned and brought the pain to the shambling mound that was trying to eat her.

When we found what must have been Spiketail’s heavily wooded lair, we were set upon by his guarding minions, small-ish kobolds with green-tinted scales and decidedly plant-like countenances. Moving on to the next “room” we found another irritating koboldaisy perched atop a ten foot stump. While the warrior types set upon the ground troops, The Bae’qeshel cleverly tricked Stumpy into attacking Eve of Disaster. She really hates being attacked, and to show her displeasure, she blasted Stumpy right off his perch and into Lumiya’s waiting claws.

Before he fell, The Bae’qeshel said, “You might have gotten away with it. You might have succeeded. But you made one mistake. You cut off our booze supply. Now you’ve all gotta die.”

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Comments Schmoments
Your Mom uses the Comments section

Pshhhhhhhhhh

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Alternative Venue
Just Sayin'

Maybe we should utilize the Comments feature…

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That day is not now...
Read on sucka's

They will read the same thing twice… and they will LIKE it!

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Shared Brain Syndrome
Or, "The GM Steals All My Ideas."

Someday one of us will have an original thought, and then the Adventure Logs won’t have overlapping information. This is not that day.

Peasant.

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Awwww Balls, That Jelly is Made of Dots Candy!?!
So chewy it hurts the teeth!

The adventurers rolled back up to town after the ghost beatings and ran into a Cat-lady by the name of Lumyia… who was proud of her fantastic rack. She had the PC glint in her eye and became fast friends. A quick interview was done of her breasteses by The Bae’qeshel and a full body interview was done later. The next day they ventured back to the damp depths of the dungeon to fight an Ocher Jelly made of chewy candy and some more undead. Only to advance their gnome-icide by putting one more of the little bastards into the ground, thus thwarting the return of some old dead bastard who loves the undead.

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Another Chick
Balls Deep?

Back in Loudwater, we met with a Razorclaw Shifter who had the PC Glint™, and who was willing to put up with The Bae’qeshel hitting on her. A brief interview followed by a loud, all-night orgy inducted the poor girl into the party. The next day, the five adventurers went back to put the smackdown on the Velsharoonies, or whatever you call those bastards.

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Don't drink the water... There's ghosts in the water
Dysentery or Ectoplasm?

After the GM dicked the players over with traps after traps after traps, the PC’s decided to rest a spell before hitting the next room. They entered a room full of skeletal statues, two of which were already crumbled, and a large fountain filled with stagnant water. Grughuge and Rexcelcior decided it would be fun to see who would drink from the water. WHAT? That’s not right… Wait, I was there, I saw it happen. Grughuge… drank the water. Awakening two Specters within… Who were none too pleased with the disturbance and blasted the party repeatedly with psychic bursts until put to rest.

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When you turn around, left turns are now right...
Traps Suck

Beat down more undead and some goblins, then fell victim to about half a million traps, because the GM is a jerk. At least he likes minions, so we get to mow them down. And we’re not dead. Except Grughuge. But he got better.

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