The game opens with the Angry Video Game Nerd thanking his fans for their massive donations to the movie. Yeah, we’re all more or less fans.

DM: Calinai! Falgrim! Sioneva! And Inferian!
Inferian: “That’s meeeeeee.”
DM: After becoming the Lord Dragon, Inferian is now a Cookie Monster. “D is for Dungeon, that’s good enough for me!”

The group angrily vows vengeance on the one Whitecloak who keeps causing trouble for them.

DM: Benar looks to you, still on his knee. On bended knee.
Inferian: I bid him riiiiiiiiiiise.
DM: He and the rest of your followers slowly get to their feet. “What is thy bidding… my master?”
Inferian: We were heading up north to find another one of those pieces of the puzzle, weren’t we?
DM: You were following the northern road out of Ilian proper, heading for the Kingdom of Noldor.
Falgrim: We got heeeeelllllla sidetracked.
DM: Much has happened. I really, truly assumed you would just fight the wyvern. I really did, I was like, “there’s nothing I can throw at them that they won’t fight.”

Meta note: last week the DM in question assured this transcriber that he sincerely didn’t believe they would fight the wyvern, as that would have been a nasty fight. Way to keep the story straight!

Calinai: I wasn’t about to fight a bloody wyvern, noooo!
DM: It was a wyvern! I was just like, well, whatever. Inferian throws stuff like that at us and we’re like, “let’s mix it up!”
Inferian: For a while there, we weren’t certain what it was, I think. And once we determined it was already a wyvern we had already acted like cowards in-character and had to keep running with it. I think if we had been certain it was a wyvern from the beginning we’d have just been shooting that thing out of the sky.
DM: I didn’t intend for the build-up to be… you know…
Falgim: Well, you did well!
Calinai: Big ominous flying, I assume it’s either a roc or a dragon. Run in the cave.
Falgrim: “So, you got yerself a personal army now, it seems?”
Inferian: “It was inevitable.”
DM: (bursts into laughter)
Calinai: “You almost seem to have expected it.”
Inferian: “My cause is right and just. It was only a matter of time-before right-thinking people flocked to my banner.”
DM: (practically falling off his chair)
Calinai: “If all of you all are so right-thinking, maybe you can have more pleasant-sounding voices, get some more followers.”
Falgrim: “I can only hope that after we help you with your adventures, you and your army of the Dragon can come up north to the Blight and help us.

The transcriber discovers the microphone hidden under a chip bag and pulls it out. The transcriber of the present agrees with the transcriber of the past – that’s MUCH better.

Inferian: I give them a brief outline of the mission, which is to go north and capture a doo-dad of some point.
DM: Well, you don’t have to explain yourselves to them, but I’m sure they would appreciate it.
Inferian: Well yeah, that’s why I’m doing it. Just because I’m mind-controlling them doesn’t mean my alignment isn’t good.
Calinai: “What do you mean you’re mind controlling—“
Falgrim: …you might want to get rid of that one.
DM: (mimicking Inferian) “My cause is just, I’m just have to make you do something you probably wouldn’t ordinarily do.”
Falgrim: “Here, put yourself on this plate and put this apple in your mouth.”
DM: “My cause is just!” That’s gonna be your mantra as you step further and further into depravity… “But that six-year-old boy is an innocent!” “My cause is just.”
Inferian: Look, his name is “Inferian”, not “Richard Rahl.” …take THAT, Terry Goodkind.
Calinai: You have to give him tests every now and then. “If you eat this small child, you will gain 22 permanent PP points.”
DM: Here, take this Sword of Truth, the power of truth will make people’s heads explode, apparently.
Calinai: “Hi mister! I’m so delicious! I give you the power psionic!”
Inferian: What is this, Bioshock, now? “Free little girl? Eat little girl?”

The DM abandons a rule on crits, where a natural 20 was automatic and needed no confirmation. Falgrim had been dealing a liiiittle too much damage.

Inferian: Now Falgrim rolls 20 on every attack…
Falgrim: And 1 on every confirm.
Calinai: 20! 1. 20! 1. 20! 1.
Inferian: Falgrim, is that die nothing but 20s and 1s?
Falgrim: …well I’ll be damned.
Inferian: That’s the ‘dramatic moment’ die. Whenever there’s a dramatic moment you’re allowed to roll that die.

Two days of riding pass uneventfully and the group enters into Noldar, not far from the capital. They consult the book, after much debate on what form and shape the book takes and how it should be properly mimed. The seal was left in the hands of a ruling family, in the kingdom that existed before this one, thousands of years ago. They need to find someone with knowledge of history. One of Inferian’s minions pipes up to advise them to go to the capital.

Calinai: “Excellent work. You are now Lord Plot Point. Lead the way.”

Grumbling, the group continues to follow the road, playing a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure game in the Jurassic Park setting. (Spoiler: every choice is death. Just like the real books.)

DM: At midday…
Inferian: We roll on the random encounter table.
DM: “We represent the Lollipop Guild!”
Inferian: Oh great. Halflings. That’s our random encounter, DM? Honestly?
Falgrim: Get your choking hands ready.
Inferian: “Did someone say choking?!” “Wrong game!”
DM: The Lullaby League, the Lullaby League… at midday on the second day you come on the well-to-do village of Five Kings.
Inferian: “We’ll lead as five kings!”
Calinai: “Perhaps we can sell stuff.”
Inferian: “We’d be best off waiting for the capital if we wish to sell. A town such as this won’t have the wealth or resources necessary to purchase these goods.”
Calinai: “Wealth and resources necessary to purchase these goods, the store! Come and get your wealth and resources necessary!”
Inferian: I’m sorry, I seem to have mistaken which sort of adventure we’re in. Random podunk villager in starting! Sell back: ultimate weapon of ultimate power, 30,000 gold.
DM: “I’ll buy it at a high price!”

Five Kings is a large town, but their lodging prospects seem limited, given their newly-increased size. Someone puts on some atmospheric music, and the party questions how they picked up a troupe of traveling music.

Calinai: “We’ve been staying on the road up until now, might as well keep going.”
Inferian: “Camp will probably be more comfortable than whatever they’ve got… No offense!”
Calinai: People just surround you. “You don’t like our TOWN, do ya, son?!”
Inferian: “I’m not menaced by your broom, sir.”
Calinai: “This is a +2 Broom of Destruction!”
Inferian: GET HIS ITEM!
Calinai: “Worth 22 copper.”
Inferian: Ignore his item…
Calinai: All it is is a broom where he’s etched “+2” and the word destruction, spelled D-E-S-C-R-U-C…
DM: You do attract large numbers of curious looks from the locals and folks about town.
Falgrim: His troupe didn’t bring a banner, did they?
Inferian: We haven’t hired the graphic designer yet.
DM: Benar’s house, as it happens, does carry a sigil, but as he was coming to swear allegiance to his new lord he didn’t think it appropriate.
Inferian: They brought the generic banner. “We’re here with THAT GUY!”
Falgrim: As we run through the town, I grab a little boy – and kick him! Let’s go! No, I hand him my aleskin. “Lad, fill that up at the local inn, and if ya come back I’ll give ya a silver for it.
DM: Zoom! Five minutes later… (making a running noise, then miming a handoff to Falgrim)
Calinai: Five minutes later an adult comes out. “Who gave my son a skin of ale?” The mom comes out, with her heavy broadsword + 11 for some reason. “Who gave my son a skin, and told him to get ale?” The epic-level warrior woman.
DM: As you hurriedly open the skin to quaff the contents, you recoil, as it comes barreling out of the skin. A large quantity of nails hits you in the face and beard area. The poor child, seeing the look on your face: “But milord, you said a skin of nail!” He’s plundered the inn’s storeroom of its spare nails and stuffed them into the skin.
Inferian: Wow… this one moment, you can tell he’s been playing under me for entirely too long.
Calinai: What’re you doing this for?! We don’t have to worry about every request! It’s not wishes!
DM: It was the kid’s fault he didn’t understand, not your poorly-worded wish. After all, in such a podunk two-person town, you can’t expect the children to be of any meaningful intelligence. Yes, nails are tangled in your beard.
Calinai: You take 27 points of metal-rust damage.
Inferian: A rust monster bursts up from the ground to feast upon you. “Do we need to pause for a grammar lesson?”
Falgrim: “It’s not the grammar, it’s the accent. You all can’t understand it.”
Inferian: “I knew what you wanted.”
Falgrim: “Little bastard… aaah, whatever.”
Inferian: Hey, maybe we made a profit on these, how much do these nails cost?
Calinai: They’re GOLD!
DM: Ha! Golden nails!
Inferian: They’re very impractical!
DM: Yes, he stole a skin full of nails for a silver piece.
Inferian: He doesn’t know their value, he’s not used to gold, that fancy currency for nobles!

Ominious background music starts.

Falgrim: Boy, getting out of town is really harrowing.
Inferian: Arrows are flying!
DM: A vendor, seeing your large mounted party, begins crying his wares, louder than before.
Calinai: Trying to be heard over the orchestra.
Falgrim: What is he selling?
Calinai: “Buying nails that have been placed on someone’s face, 2 gold!”
DM: “Lords and ladies, the finest Noldoran meat pies?”
Falgrim: Meat pies? I’m not gonna buy one ‘cuz it’s going to turn into something bad.
DM: He sweeps a few in hand and begins making his way out from behind his tall, proffering them as he approaches you. “Milords, give them a try!”
Inferian: As one: (drawing a sword)
DM: Benar immediately slaps the hand of the vendor aside and the pies scatter. “Make way! Make way, commoner! Do you not know the lord Dragon rides before you?!”
Calinai: “Why’d you… bust up all his pies?”
Inferian: Stay thy hand, Be -- (clearing his throat, then getting raspy) “Stay thy hand, Benar.”

Immense cheap laughter at Inferian’s expense occurs.

Inferian: “This good merchant need not be punished for merely trying to ply his trade.”
DM: As you will, my lord. I mean, “As you will, my lord!”
Inferian: “Sir merchant, what is the price of your pies?”
DM: “No my lord, I couldn’t possibly!” He’s backing away.
Calinai: “It’s okay, here.” I place 20 silver in his mitt.
DM: 20 silver?
Calinai: Yeah, I got silver lying around with this gold, I don’t want it.
Falgrim: “I’m not one to gripe about dirty meat pies, I’ll take the ones that fell on the ground.”
Inferian: “Let us have pies for all, and then a little extra for your trouble.”

The vendor brings them pie, and everyone starts rolling Fort saves for absolutely no reason. The vendor continues to freak out, now because they’ve overpaid, and it leads into massive complaint into D&D economics.

Calinai: As adventurers we’re breaking out 5, 6 thousand gold in an adventure, and then you have these little towns that barely get past silver.
Inferian: Yeah, but the farmers are growing onions, not slaying mummies! If the farmers would get off their asses and slay mummies…
Calinai: THIS ECONOMY IS SO WEIRD! Being an adventurer is the only way to live!
Inferian:EXCEPT FOR THE MUMMIES! The mummy rot, what’s 4 points of Charisma a day when you’re rich?

Benar humbly apologizes to the vendor, while Inferian makes a note to have a long talk with Benar about appropriate times for good cop, bad cop. The meat pies turn out to be excellent. Inferian talks up his pies cheerfully.

Calinai: The moment we leave town, he’ll be robbed.
DM: That’s probably the reason why he’s packing up hurriedly. It’s the equivalent of you walking into McDonald’s and slapping down $20,000 for your meal.
Inferian: We’ll be lucky if they don’t try to rob US.
Calinai: Oh good, we need an adventure.

Inferian sways the merchant back to friendly. The group plans to start a riot by hurling coins into a crowd, as they’ve been desiring to do for some time. Inferian has a long talk with Benar… which Calinai and Falgrim cast as him slapping the shit out of the hapless thrall.

DM: The next day you cannot help but notice the utter wave of silence that has fallen over Benar!
Inferian: I did it diplomatically! I appreciate what he was trying to do. Also I roll a 24 to –
DM: To dominate him?
Inferian: I’M NOT DOMINATING HIM! I’m talking to him!
DM: He will never again speak without your leave.
Inferian: That’s NOT what I’m SAYING!

Everyone enjoys laughing at Inferian’s literal pain, including Inferian himself.

DM: No monster I could have pulled from the manual could have achieved this effect! I’ve physically hurt him! From the game! This IS what it’s like being you!
Inferian: Now you understand! Feel the power run through you! Hey, you haven’t even gotten Calinai good and worked up in this game. Wait’ll you do that!
DM: I’m scared to.
Inferian: It’s the greatest rush!
Calinai: …it’s not that hard.
DM: Wait a minute, the chokers did it, and they were level 2 monsters!
Inferian: No, that was me that did it by accident…

Calinai spins a horrible vision where Inferian is constantly feeding the heart of a deceased thrall to a new minion, who ascends to thrall levels upon eating it. The party leaves the town behind at last, as battlefield music fills the background, to their alarm. It changes to ominous forest music instead.

Inferian: Now, the inevitable pixie horde. We see the dryad naked. Game over.

Dusk falls, and the party moves off the road to a copse of trees to make camp.

DM: You’re able to set all your horses up… by breaking all of their knees…
Inferian: We’re gonna need some cure spells tomorrow, by the way.
Falgrim: Just kick their legs so they bend backwards. “Braaaaaay!” That’s what they sound like when you do that.
Inferian: It affects their voice for some reason. You know, horses speak with their leg muscles.

They split the watch up amongst the mooks, quite glad to have them. Inferian checks on their camping supplies and makes a note to purchase better supplies for them in town.

DM: The next day…
Inferian: Look at that! We have mooks and they don’t even have to roll Listen checks or anything! This is the greatest class I’ve ever taken!
Falgrim: The next day, all your mooks are dead.
Inferian: That’s okay. Three… Two… One.. “We’re here to serve!”
Calinai: The only way that would affect us is if all your mooks are dead and you lost your thrallherd level. Just for some reason it’s gone. It transformed into something useless for you. A fighter level.
Inferian: But that includes my base attack bonus.
Calinai: Nope, you only get the feats, and you can only take feats out of the Player’s Handbook.
Inferian: I take Weapon Focus: Ray.
Falgrim: You can only take ones that increase, like, your Fortitude saving throw.
Inferian: D’ohhhhhhhhhhhhh! Whyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Whyyyyyyyyyyy?! Oh woe is me!

One of the sentries believes they heard something in the night, but found nothing. Inferian attempts to ask Sioneva to look at the area, but the player has wandered off.

Falgrim: Sha-nay-nay!
Inferian: “Aww crap. It appears our comrade has been kidnapped in the night.”
Calinai: That’s an awesome assumption, let’s go with it. We’ll have an adventure. We find like a random bandit camp. “We didn’t take anyone!”
Inferian: “GIVE HER BACK!”
DM: After briefly conferring with whom you assume to be Benar’s number 2, he informs you that she was seen making her way into the wood, presumably –
Inferian: “So she’s gone to join with the bandits.”
Falgrim: “Would you STOP jumping to these conclusions?! They’re not helping!”
Calinai: She must have been kidnapped by the local wizard, let’s go interrogate him! “What did you do to her?!” We find out secrets that we’re not supposed to, like the local town wizard touches small children. This doesn’t help us!
Inferian: Wizard Sandusky.
Falgrim: Awwwwwwwwwww.

It turns into a gravelly-voiced movie trailer about the epic search for Sioneva. Sioneva comes back and calls them all horrible people, which none of them dispute. FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER ITS REPORT, Sioneva finally goes off to investigate the spot where the watchmook heard noise. Inferian carefully balances a Star Crunch to flip it.

Inferian: Good crunch, ya live. Bad crunch, I take you out right now.
Falgrim: What if it’s a Star Crunch.
Inferian: We’re going for Burger King!
Sioneva: I rolled a 29 on my Search check.
DM: 29?!
Sioneva: Nothing gets past old Eagle-Eye.
Calinai: You see the sweat off the caterpillar’s back.
DM: After much and intense focused sweepings on this area which Inferian’s underlings directed you to… most strangely, considering what you find, ALL you find is half of a hoofprint and a branch that has been clearly bent by someone’s passage.
Inferian: Aww, this is the shittiest zombie ever. Half a horse leg.

Sioneva is unable to track any further, so she comes back to report, then circles around camp to seek any other tracks. She finds a strip of cloth on the side nearest the road, and comes back. Meanwhile, Calinai is muttering over a magic staff that turns into a treant.

Calinai: Unless I misread it has 12 hit points.
DM: The cloth had 12 hit points?!
Falgrim: 12 hit dice.
DM: 12 hit dice? Roll for initiative! It comes alive in your hands!

The sun at last rises, and they set off without incident. At midday, they arrive at the majestic sprawling city walls of the capital! They attempt to get to the city, but are held up by a long discussion about the purchase of magical items and the cost-to-effectiveness ratio of items. And then the economy.

DM: The white walls of the capital of Noldor rise far above the plain where the trees have been cleared away. Many tents lie outside the wall, some pavilion-sized. All of you save Calinai have most likely never seen in your lives, not just the sheer size of the city, but the splendor. It’s pretty opulent.
Inferian: “My god, the name of which I do not yet know!”

The Dark Portal opens up before them, or so the background music would have them believe. It segues into heroic music.

DM: That’s appropriate.
Inferian: “Good work on those horns, men.”
DM: Past the main city wall, you can see in further… I guess the proportions are a little skewed because of how much further in, but you can see another city wall rising even higher. This would be the city walls around the older city proper, whereas the newer wall springs up around the outer newer city, since its population expanded beyond what the original city walls can contain. The White Lion flies above what must be the highest peak in the battlement.
Inferian: Pew, no it doesn’t!
DM: You shoot down. The White Lion. Of Noldor.
Inferian: Campaign OVER.
DM: Well no one knows it was you. Outside the city walls is a large encampment.
Inferian: We’re gonna get in there and it’s just gonna be cardboard props.
DM: And mug-scrubbers.
Inferian: “Mug-scrubbers. The nemesis of my people. HEY MUD-SCRUBBERS!” (mimes dirtying a mug) “Whatcha gonna do?”
DM: “POLISH! POLISH!” They’re taking turns, they’re fighting over it. The encampment right outside of where the road you’re following joins the main avenue of approach is a large collection of tents, pavilions, wagons and such. At a few different points scattered around the encampment a banner flies, it’s a many-rayed rising sun over a field of blue. Further in the distance, at what you’d estimate at this distance to be a mile from the city walls, is a much smaller encampment, much to your relief because you can see the golden sun on a white field. What appears to be a small – you would hope at this distance that this camp could only contain a couple score of the blasted Whitecloaks that’ve hounded your steps coming up from Ilian. There’s a milling throng moving in and out of the gates. It’s a little bit… obviously it thins out the further away from the city gates you get. And from here, in about fifteen minutes you can be at the gates and well on your way inside.

Side-eying this encampments, the group begins to move cautiously forward.

Calinai: All right, all the Whitecloaks just took 222 fire damage.
DM: What are you doing?!
Calinai: Launching what I’ve termed the mortar-style fireball. It launches up, must be at least 200 yards away.
DM: So you’re launching a preemptive strike that’s doing 200-same damage to their entire camp?
Inferian: We assume we’ll be heroes.
Calinai: I wish I could do that.

They pass safely, well clear of the Whitecloaks, but closer to the larger encampment. It is kinder halfling encampment! But there seem to be orcs among the halflings, to their surprise. The DM mentions, OOC, that the orcs are most likely hired mercenaries. Inferian continues to insist that the orcs are eating the halflings, and spends most of the discussion listing various cuts of meat the halflings are transformed into. The guards, noticing a large armed party, assume a slightly more defensive posture to prevent them from entering.

DM: Benar’s been waiting for this!
Inferian: “No, Benar! What have I told you?!”
DM: The horse rears up! The pikes lower! You can hear the familiar ratcheting of crossbows being drawn from above you!
Calinai: As all this happens, I edge away from the party.
Inferian: More legitimately…
DM: Yes. One of them calls out, “What business do you have in Cameron?”
Inferian: “We have come to seek out knowledge of your fair city and the land which it comes from. We hear there are many scholars of note in your town and wish to speak with one.”
DM: “Ah! You’ll find much and more, more than you can dream of, within our walls.”
Inferian: Oh god! That’s suspicious! Whenever anyone says you’ll get more than you dreamed of, there’s monster and shit!
DM: Pride in his voice as he continued to espouse the virtues of his town!
Falgrim: “Knowledge is all good and stuff, but you’ve got taverns?”
DM: “Good master dwarf, you’ll be wanting to visit the inner city for an establishment that would suit your needs.”
Inferian: He says, looking at the nails in your beard.
Falgrim: I took them out – oh, there’s one.
DM: “You must obviously eat those for breakfast. Our good queen has seen to it that the needs of all of our varied visitors… can find accommodations to suit their every wish!”
Falgrim: “Let’s see if I can drink this town dry!”

Falgrim continues to chat with the guards, about horn-hunters and so forth, after which he rides on to hit up the taverns. Calinai takes off for the scroll shops! Inferian shrugs as he’s left to go to the sage.

Inferian and DM: “Don’t you know, you never split the party!”
Calinai: Hey, I didn’t tell you guys NOT to follow me.
Inferian: …Well-argued.
Falgrim: “All right, all right, as long as we whet our whistle after we visit the sage.”
Inferian: That was out-of-character, in-character there’s no reason for us to split up.
Falgrim: “YOU LAD!”
DM: “Aye?”
Falgrim: “What’s a good inn, with good ale?”
DM: “Oooooh, you be wanting a drop to drink, eh?”
Falgrim: “That’s what I asked, yes. I don’t kid about me ale, lad.”
Inferian: Oh look, NPCs being bastard, yet another sign of my doing.
DM: “It’s a bit early in the day to be drinking!”
Falgrim: “I’m a DWARF, lad. It’s never too early!”
Inferian: “It’s too late from yesterday!”
Falgrim: “When the dawn breaks, and there’s trollocs hewn across the land in bloody bits and gore, you want a stiff drink!”
DM: All the blood has drained from the boy’s face…
Inferian: Are you rolling Intimidate?
Falgrim: I do HAVE Intimidate…
DM: I’d say you don’t need to roll at this point.
Inferian: It’d be interesting to see just how Intimidated he was, hypothetically.
Falgrim: 27.
DM: It appears that he’s trying to speak, but the words will not come because he’s not able to draw a breath.

Sioneva has… apparently fallen asleep, so the group collectively shrugs and continues on to the inner city. Falgrim reaches his tavern… and apparently Calinai shows up to study scrolls at the same time. The DM lovingly describes the barkeep rolling up a keg and tapping a magnificent ale for Falgrim. Inferian, meanwhile, sends his minions off to provision and equip themselves, but Benar insists on staying with Inferian as a bodyguard.

DM: As you are making your way to the market district in the new city, the main part of your party branches off. As you pass through the more common area of the market where food and clothing as such… and as you’re getting into the more higher-priced area where what you’re looking for can be acquired, the press gets rather thick. You can see there’s, in addition to the usual assortment of humans and half-elves and suck, a good number of halflings going about their business. If there’s a halfling not in a group, it’s usually accompanied by an orc bodyguard.
Inferian: As the press grows more intense I mind to my purse.
DM: You mind to your purse diligently. Benar casts looks left, right, occasionally over the shoulder to make sure no one draws near the Lord Dragon. Eventually the press becomes think enough that you’re not able to move through the crowd as a group. Finally Benar’s had enough. “Get out of it! Make way, you lot! The Lord Dragon seeks passage! Move, you all! Come on now, clear out the way!”
Inferian: …I’m putting more ranks in his Diplomacy when I level him up.
DM: Heads turn. Some bewildered, some half-amused, some openly recoiling in horror!
Inferian: Also note to self, remind him he has FOUR levels in rogue, only ONE in barbarian! He seems to have forgotten the balance. That last level REALLY went to his head. Wait, didn’t I take the Craven feat for him? I took the Craven feat for him!
DM: He’s a craven? So yeah, he makes up for being a craven by yelling loudly. As people continue to react in different ways, although none of those reactions make up to moving out of the way, he speaks up again. “Are you lot all deaf? Move out of the way of the Lord Dragon!”
Inferian: “…this may be more attention than we wanted to call to ourselves…”
DM: Now a mutter begins to pass through the throng. Those immediately blocking your path have started to clear off, backing away in all directions.
Calinai: Are we there…?
Falgrim: We’re still at the tavern.
Calinai: Oh thank god.
DM: “Come on!” Benar now starts walking a few steps ahead, so they get the idea to step out of the way.
Inferian: “Your courtesy is much appreciated.”
DM: “Make way! Make way for the Lord Dragon!”
Inferian: …there’s a 26 on the Diplomacy check to not be lynched.
DM: People are now moving out of the way in a more orderly… not speedy, but a much more even clip where it’s a way opening up for you. The mutter has gone from background crowd noise to a pretty good amount of chatter. It seems to have brought the marketplace to kind of a standstill. The people who were buying things a moment ago are no longer interested and the people who were selling things are equally as uninterested. All eyes are upon you.
Inferian: I put on my dignified and noble air and stride through, making the best, you know, like the visiting royalty I technically am! (friendly waving)
Calinai: Well, you’re fucking full of yourself, aren’t you.

Inferian finds a likely sage, but the sage directs them to the chamberlain in the royal castle as the person most likely to have the specific information they need. If they present themselves at the palace, they should be able to get an audience with said chamberlain. The sage even helpfully writes them a letter of introduction!

Calinai: Your minion is proud to aid him in the matter. “THE MIGHTY DRAGON, LORD OF THE LANDS!”
Inferian: “You’re not underlining it enough. Underline it more!”
DM: “Lord Dragon? Lord Dragon!”

Inferian compensates the sage politely.

DM: “Lord Dragon?! Lord Dragon!!”
Inferian: “Yes, Zim?”
Calinai: “I beat up some peasants for gold!”
DM: Zim? Did you say Zim?
Inferian: If he keeps that up, yes I did.
DM: Benar, who is standing by the door, gazing out to keep an eye out for –

Calinai hurls herself into the middle of the argument to ride Inferian’s ass for a city that was not oriented on a north-south basis. They yell at each other for a while.

DM: As you approach the front of the store—
Inferian: “Benar, let me guess, there’s a group of guardsmen waiting out there to speak with this mysterious ‘lord’ who’s come into the city.”
DM: “My lord IS truly amazing.” As you look past him you can see a number of red-coated guardsmen that are conspicuously blocking the way out.
Calinai: To ensure that no one learns the dragon’s secrets, one of his minions must eat his shit.

Somehow, an argument about internet searching and how all searches return naked girls develops. Soon it goes bad.

Falgrim: Nude damn babies of the Hitler Youth.
Calinai: Little boy, you’re going to hell.
DM: If you’re thinking of asking, there’s no visible exit of the shop—
Inferian: No, no, no. I’ll step out and deal with the consequences of… someone else’s actions.
DM: As you emerge from the shopfront, one of the guardsmen calls out to you – they’re at least 20 feet away – “Are you the one who claims to be a dragon?”
Inferian: “I’m the one with a very loud bodyguard who claims I’m a dragon. The official title that I’ve been given by him is LORD Dragon.”
DM: “Well, you’re either a complete madman or you have the strangest sense of humor I’ve ever heard.”
Inferian: “I may be a complete madman for allowing him to accompany me.”
DM: “Have you any notion of the fracas you’ve stirred up, walking the streets, having him cast about that you’re the Dragon Reborn?”
Inferian: “I wouldn’t claim to be the Dragon Reborn myself, and I do apologize for his loud speech. I do have a certain agenda, and I do believe I have a certain cause which entitles me to the service of men, but the title these men have given me is…” …now I’m completely blocked.
DM: He clearly has now decided, the lever has switched over in his brain that you MUST be a madman. However, continuing, since you’ve been communicating with him diplomatically to this point. “Dragon or know, I’m going to have to ask you and your followers present to fum – to fum –“ (a pause as the DM tries to get the word out) “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH, ATTACK!”
Inferian: “NOW WHO’S THE MADMAN?! I SHOULD BE TAKING YOU IN!” I arrest him in the name of our lord! “To me, loyal guardsman, for defense of the kingdom!” I fire a Dancing Lights in the sky. This is the cue for the second-in-command to slay all of the people she’s with. Suddenly several of the guardsmen join my side!
DM: ”Dragon or no, I’m going to have to order you to come with me to the palace at once.”
Inferian: “I was going there anyway, so that’s quite convenient.”

The guard captain seems moved to at least some decency thanks to Inferian’s Diplomacy and general calmness. He bids Inferian to come, which the latter does, docilely.

Inferian: Benar explodes into a whirling dervish frenzy and begins hewing through.
Falgrim: …maybe it’s time you let him go.
Inferian: Time to reroll. The next one is just this meek halfling cast. Oh shit he’s chaotic evil! Vile damage everywhere! Why did I think this was a good class?!
DM: So you, Benar, Sioneva, and Calinai.
Calinai: I’m at the bar, studying my scrolls!
Inferian: Me and Benar are the only ones there. No one came with me, as you can tell by the fact that no one kneecapped Benar the second he opened his big fat mouth.
DM: How did you all know where to find Falgrim?
Inferian: He’s a dwarf, we look for the tavern with the innkeeper going, “YIPPEE! YIPPEE!” and turning cartwheels in the street.

As the guards head back, they run headlong into Inferian’s mooks, who burst onto the scene with weapons drawn screaming that they’ll save him. The Captain is not pleased… and asks specifically about other people who might be in his retinue.

Falgrim: Don’t take me from my beer, man, I will kill you.
Calinai: I’m studying my scrolls so no DIRTBAG gets me in trouble. Some guards come in: “You’re under arrest. He said you’ll know why.” “Yeah…”
Inferian: “These are the followers who have sworn themselves to me. I have compatriots in the city. They are comrades, not followers.” Hey look, I temporarily fired you.
Calinai: How the fuck did we get involved in this fucking bullshit?
Falgrim: I’m not bitter, this is gonna be fun.
DM: “Will these consent to being taken to the palace right with you?”
Inferian: “I should warn you right now, one of them is a dwarf and he’s probably in a tavern. You may need a LOT more men if you want him to come.”
Falgrim: Mention I’m from the Blight!

The Captain takes Inferian’s word that his companions will cause no trouble. Calinai attempts to roll a 1 on scribing a scroll just to detonate one. The Captain does intend to seek them out, especially if they pass by likely places for the pair to be.

Inferian: It turns out to just be a whorehouse in the back. The Highly-Illegal Whorehouse.
Falgrim: Why would they advertise this?!
Inferian: It’s for the most illegal of whores.

With the numbers now more on his favor, Inferian continues to win diplomacy points by ceding authority to the Captain with friendly mien.

Inferian: At least I kinda feel like I seem to be the one in control at this point. The Captain: “A DWARF?! 8 followers?! What have I gotten myself into?!”
Calinai: “Okay, we’ve got the dwarf, anyone else a compatriot?” “Yeah, I’m a wizard slash cleric of the Tower…”

The Captain leaves several of Inferian’s followers behind, then they track down the tavern where the others went.

Inferian: As they come in, you’re muttering to yourself about how this is the most black and evil spell you’ve ever scribed…
DM: One of the local cats has made its home in your lap for the time being?
Sioneva: Mine?
Inferian: Wait, it’s a cat, it should be sitting on top of the scrolls.
DM: “Oh, were you reading this?”
Calinai: Don’t worry, if the cat bothers me too much the snake will ‘play’ with the cat.
Inferian: “Aww, kitty’s sleeping. Kitty? Kitty?” It’s that same kid from before!

The guardsmen step in, Inferian in tow. Falgrim notices this.

Falgrim: ”Oh aye, aye, a royal escort now? You’ve moved up in the world, oh Lord Dragon.”
Inferian: You’re not heeeelping!
Falgrim: I roll my eyes.
DM: The captain mutters, out of the side of his mouth, “So I take it these are they?”
Inferian: “What gave it away?”
Calinai: “How long did it take you to get arrested by the city?”
Falgrim: “Captain, would you like a mug of ale on me?”

The Captain quizzes Calinai on her business and relationship with Inferian, but only gets himself more and more confused. Calinai hits him with both barrels of Sedai arrogance and pompousness. Nevertheless, the group agrees to come along with the guards, although by now the Captain is thoroughly out of his depth.

DM: You return to see that rather than the loose-knit circle you have left, the two sides have clearly separated and… not squaring off, it’s not a standoff, but they’re eying each other up and down.
Inferian: I just imagine Benar and the leader of the guards left behind just butting chests.
Calinai: Better yet, they’ve tied each other’s wrists together…
Inferian: Knife fight!

The Amok Time music inevitably makes an appearance. The Captain starts extolling the beauty and virtue of the queen as they enter the palace proper. They are escorted in the audience chamber, while before them sits the queen on a gilded chair with a lion’s head on top. She is apparently pretty smoking. Falgrim envisions her with a beard.

DM: You’re brought a respectful distance from the throne. The guardsmen at your side all take a knee. The queen eyes you curiously.
Inferian: I bow. Properly and formally as is appropriate for royalty. (pausing) An appropriate bow to give to royalty, not an appropriate bow that implies I am royalty.
Falgrim: I give a good curt bow as a warrior.
Calinai: Out of character, is she, from my eyes, above me, or below me?
Falgrim: She sits up on a dais, doesn’t she?
Inferian: In social standing. “Do I bow? Or slapping hand? Choices choices.”

The Queen looks favorably on the Tower and the Sedai, and so Calinai elects to be graceful and respectful. Sioneva crosses her arms over her chest and bows.

Falgrim: Nanu nanu.
Sioneva: Hey, I’m a half-elf.
Inferian: Only half of you bows.
DM: After taking a moment to look over each of you in turn, she takes in specifically you, and you. “So which of you is a dragon.”
Inferian: “The followers have given me the title of dragon. But I am not actually a dragon. I am 100% person through and through.”
DM: “Indulge me. Why is it they would choose to call you such?”
Inferian: “They have heard rumors of some of my abilities.”
DM: “I can’t help but imagine that some of those abilities… that would lead them to call you the Dragon Reborn…”
Inferian: “Are fairly formidable ones I can’t demonstrate on anyone here without endangering their lives, so it’s probably best if I refrain.”
Falgrim: Good, she probably thinks you’re a mad cunt, fantastic.
Inferian: You know, by all viewpoint of this society I AM! So it’s not like there’s any real loss here!
DM: “Yes, perhaps that is for the best.”
Falgrim: Yes, I can turn invisible, but you can’t look at me.
Inferian: What would you like me to do, Energy Missile her guards to death? I don’t think that would go over well!
Falgrim: Probably not, probably not.
Inferian: I suppose I could fire a bolt of lightning and deliberately miss.
Falgrim: “You guys got rats in here? Every kingdom’s got rats!”
DM: “Lady Sedai? I suppose you’ve recently been raised to Sisterhood.”
Inferian: Oh burn!
Calinai: “I spend most of the time in the library studying. I only recently left, I have not even chosen a warder yet. My original task was to deliver a message to the lord Dragon King, but that task has grown into something much more complicated.”
DM: “So this man is a hunter for the horn?”

The Queen briefly pumps Calinai for information on Inferian, briefly confusing everyone as to which ‘dragon’ means Swerengin and which means Inferian. Calinai briefly explains the nature of Inferian’s powers. The Queen informs them that she’d already had petitioners demanding she respond to the claims of a false dragon. Inferian finally rolls some Knowledge(psionics) to figure stuff out.

DM: Someone has arrived in the city, apparently claiming to be the Dragon Reborn. That’s usually associated with someone who begins immediately gathering followers to themselves in a bid to overthrow whatever powers are in place, and has generally been associated with chaos and disorder. It’s also usually something that the Sedai order deals with directly. There’s an entire section of their order devoted to dealing with people who call themselves false dragons.
Calinai: Wow, this just makes the whole situation far worse, doesn’t it.
DM: Whether the individuals display powers that would actually make people think that, just anyone associated with that title becomes associated with chaos and even war. And it would appear to be a very large part of the reason why your followers have so completely thrown themselves under your sway, because it usually happens with people who call themselves Dragon. The people that follow them see themselves as serving a cause to save the world. Which is probably why Benar attacks ordinary inconveniences with unde fervor.
Inferian: “It would help to clarify a few conceptions you may have. It is true that my mission, is ultimately, not at the present, but in the long term, I have dedicated myself to the overthrowing –“ My home country that I don’t remember the name of!
DM: Terraina.
Inferian: “Terraina’s government. Not because I seek chaos and despair, but because it is corrupt, evil, and beyond redemption. My intentions lie nowhere within the other lands, faction, religion, nation, or otherwise, and I do not intend to see it fall into chaos, but rather, restore it to a position of true nobility and righteousness from which it has LONG since fallen.”
DM: “Very well. Two things then.”
Inferian: Off with your head?
DM: And what’s the second thing? Time for tea!
Inferian: I just saved a lot of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico!

Calinai complains about the Toughness feat, while a Kill Bill reference causes a flurry of wire-fu stunts.

DM: “If the lady Sedai vouches for you, then I will consent to believing your tale and consider it an unfortunate episode that should be put behind me.”
Inferian: Oh god, now in Calinai’s mind it’s like, “On the one hand, I can move the campaign along, on the other hand, I can dick over Inferian.”
DM: “Though in the future I recommend drastically restraining the fervor with which your followers regard you.”
Inferian: “I intend to have a word with him. Way ahead of you on that one.”
Calinai: “I will vouch for his qualities.”
Inferian: She says, swallowing down her rage.
DM: “That’s settled then. Second, this ‘path of righteousness’ you have placed yourself on… What is it that has led that path to my throne room?”
Inferian: “It has… nothing to do with it, in fact. A rather strange coincidence.”
DM: She meant more obliquely, like, how did you end up here? She obviously knows that someone started throwing the Dragon word around…
Inferian: Yes, I’m going to answer her question, I’m just explaining that it actually has nothing –
Calinai: Did we ever get our answer, our response as to where we needed to go next?
Inferian: No! We’re still working towards that! We’re trying to GET to that! “As it happens, our group is seeking items of certain note, constructed of –“ the material that I don’t remember the name of!
Calinai: Heartstone.
DM: At the mention of the term heartstone—
Inferian: “OFF WITH THEIR HEADS! They know too much!”
DM: The man to her left seems to sort of actively become interested in the discussion for the first time.

The chamberlain has a few quiet words with the Queen, who on his advice dismisses the courtiers to keep the discussions more private. Inferian explains the plot to the Queen, then leads the discussion to the information they were after the entire time! Sadler, the chamberlain, bids a map be brought so he can mark the locations they ought to consider searching. The closest location is the ruins of a great city, but the Chamberlain advises them that it is the least likely place. The second location is a tower along the river that none can figure out how to enter. The third location is terribly far off in the mountains: ruins of the original home of the ruling family. Inferian proposes they roll dice. The chamberlain offers to arrange for transport for the party when they choose! They split up to make some Gather Information checks!

Calinai: Have we died because of your insolence yet?
Inferian: Calinai can go straight to hell.
Calinai: She’s been there before.
Inferian: Calinai can go straight to hell feasting on a bag of dicks. “Oh dicks, they’re so good, I’m glad I have a whole bag of you! OM NOM NOM NOM.”
Sioneva: You’re a horrible man.

Sioneva scrounges up a ton of information on the three locations! Falgrim’s innkeeper weeps openly, as the dwarf’s appetite has drained his finest kegs.

Falgrim: I plop down a platinum for all the beer.
Inferian: Yeah, now he’s NEVER going to get more because he’s fucking retiring, Falgrim. You didn’t think this one through at all.
Falgrim: No, I’m trying to ruin the economy of this entire world.
Inferian: Why do you hate the economy, Falgrim?

The party elects to visit the mountain home. The chamberlain has made arrangements for them to travel with the halflings.

DM: “May I present to you Ambassador Dobson.”
Inferian: Dubstep?
DM: Dobson.
Sioneva: Dubstep?
DM: Dobson.
Sioneva: Dobby?
DM: The chamberlain motions to you. After his introduction, a finely dressed halfling steps forward, of obvious pedigree. (halfling voice) “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sirs and madam!”
Calinai: Oh no! Oh no!
DM: “I look forward to working with you.”
Inferian: Is he always on duty?

The group anticipates defending this halfling caravan from 80 random encounters, though the DM claims he can cut the two-to-three week journey in half. Whatever happens, the DM vows that next week, combat WILL occur!