The transcriber wisely begins announcing which game is being played that week, saving himself the grief of wondering which game he’s transcribing for like 80 minutes. Everyone mocks him for this, leaving the transcriber once again questioning why he does this you ungrateful rat bastards. Someone rolls dice directly next to the microphone to earn that description. Someone fools around with a dice bag.

Inferian: Stop fondling that furry black sack.
DM: Well there’s only one black sack at the table other than that.
Inferian: It’s not at the table and I think we’d all like to keep it that way.
Lars: I’d like to point out that both my hands are firmly on top of the table at the moment.
Calinai: Hand check!
Inferian: It’s the peahen! It’s the peahen next door.
Calinai: So we’re selling the Memento Magicka and the gloves of agile striking.
Inferian: We’re not selling a damn thing out here in the ruins.
Falgrim: (crazy old merchant voice) “Oh hi guys!”

Calinai attempts to take all the money, and also slaps around the microphone. “Hey, where’s the game report?” “Fuck you, that’s where.”

DM: What’s your god again?
Inferian: I think we never decided.
DM: This is a temple of Undecided.
Falgrim: The statues by the altar are just like… (baffled shrug)

The group debates whether the evil chancellor is serving the Queen or acting on his own. The DM calls for a Knowledge(nobility) roll.

Falgrim: Knowledge(Blight)? Come oooon, I gotta use it.
DM: Yes, she is not in fact a native of the Blight. Unless you roll a 1. Yes, you are convinced she is the Queen…
Falgrim: “We have to cut her down!”
Calinai: Unnatural 20.
DM: Oh, you wasted that for this…
Calinai: UNnatural.
DM: Oh, I thought you said a natural 20. But it was UNnatural.
Calinai: No. If I just say ‘Twenty’, you’ll be okay, you passed, but it was 14 plus 6.
Inferian: Why not ‘modified 20’?
Calinai: I like unnatural.
DM: DM confusion +10.

The Queen is too good and incorruptible to be responsible, as near as anyone can tell. Inferian consults the book to determine where they should be going next.

Inferian: Having forgotten in-character once again.
Calinai: Aren’t you gravelly-voiced?
Inferian: Not when I’m speaking out of character!
Calinai: I expect you to be in gravelly-voice all the time.
Inferian: Yeah, well, get used to being disappointed.
Calinai: I didn’t say I was disappointed about it, I just expect it.
Inferian: You’re not getting your expectations met, let’s put it that way.

Inferian continues to speak out-of-character, confusing everyone. The DM clarifies that Super-Horse the Ultra-Mega-Train still awaits them if they wish to return. This settles them on returning to warn the queen of her evil chancellor.

Calinai: Balthazar!
Inferian: Jafar!
DM: No, it was Dobson.
Inferian: Dobson was the hafling.
DM: Oh, you wish to report the chamberlain. Sadler.
Calinai: Why can’t we have, like, Disney villain names?
Inferian: Sadler, that’s the guy!
DM: He’ll be standing right there. (outrageous accent) “This is preposterous, my Queen! Surely they have mistaken me for someone else!”
Inferian: We’ll take those boys back to their town first. With a shiny copper for their near-death!
DM: “Wow! A shiny copper of my very own!”
Inferian: …what’s Benar’s Forgery at…
Falgrim: It’s wooden.
DM: You’re going to give them real crap coins? You heartless – alignment change!
Inferian: It’s Benar who did it! I didn’t know!
DM: “You are not worthy of basking in the Lord Dragon’s wealth…”
Inferian: “Mighty copper!”

Lars goes so far as to roll a Forgery check, and everyone recalls the Exalted game which was an inch from turning into an honest-to-God Ace Attorney court case. The PCs attempt to leave.

Calinai: Get out of the way! Get out of the way! I’m moving!
Inferian: The guard’s just standing there in the exit.
Falgrim: “Excuse me sir. I need to get out… need to get out there.”
Inferian: “I serve the Lord Dragon!”
Falgrim: “Please move out of the way.”
Inferian: “I serve the Lord Dragon!”
Falgrim: “Why can’t I physically move you?”
Inferian: “I serve the Lord Dragon!”
Falgrim: “Maybe if I walk into you you’ll move.”
Inferian: Sorry, not advanced enough for that.
Calinai: Don’t worry, here, press the B button, go to spells… FUS RO DAH!

The group returns to their old campsite as the sun begins to rise.

DM: You’ve made it through the horrible night to have a curse.
Inferian: “What a horrible night to have this voice.”
Calinai: What are we, in preschool or something, our goal is not to scare the children?
Inferian: “HI KIDS!”
Calinai: “AAAAAAAH!” “God damn I told you to stay quiet!”
Inferian: “That was quiet.”
Calinai: “All right, next time remind me to tell you not to talk at all!”

The DM’s flavor text for their journey abruptly becomes a trip over the river and through the woods.

DM: You find a worg…. In Grandmother’s bed. He attempts to trip you.

With the NPC boys still there, the group wonders if they should take them back. Inferian advises they do so, thinking they’ll make good witnesses to the crimes of Sadler.

Inferian: And Waldorf.
DM: Oh that’s bad. I’m not gonna be able to name any of these characters, am I? They’re all gonna be named like – I’m just gonna go through the baby book.
Inferian: A. Aa. Aaa.
DM: You’re on Bert.
Sioneva: Where’s Ernie?
DM: We gotta get through C, D…
Falgrim: Lord Aardvark.
DM: And you only yourselves to blame.
Sioneva: No, we have Inferian to blame.
Inferian: What?
DM: And I’ll think of as many double-A names as I can to drag it out.
Calinai: I chose most of my characters from Final Fantasy games. I didn’t hear the end of it.

A moment’s pause.

Inferian: You chose GOLBEZ! WHAT DID YOU EXPECT WOULD HAPPEN?!
DM: I didn’t even get the reference. I just thought it was a funny name.

The DM vows not to make them roll for an upcoming thing, at which point everyone rolls, then bemoan their poor rolls. The boys with them speed up.

Sioneva: “What are you guys doing?” I guess I’m in front.
Inferian: You do seem to have a rapport with them. And by rapport I mean boobs.
Falgrim: “Oy! Lads! Where ya goin’?”
DM: “Don’t you smell it?” (pausing) “I farted.” Sorry, I couldn’t resist.

Calinai considers casting Wind Wall, which forces everyone to flash back to the LAST time Wind Wall was used, to contain exploding corpses. The players immediately deduce that the spawn had ransacked the town, irritating the DM, who apparently believed this was not transparent.

Calinai: Oh. No! You just stuck us with these fucking kids! God DAMN it! We shoulda let them die!
Inferian: Don’t worry, once I gain another level they’ll all just become more of my minion guys.
Calinai: Now all of a sudden I want to be Barack again, at least we had CHICKS following us around. Three fucking pre-teens. But my character’s female. Fuck!
Inferian: Let’s just find a belt of Femininity and your problems are solved.
DM: There is such a thing? This is the part where you say yes, they exist.
Inferian: And they’re chokers.
DM: (snaps like a twig and collapses into giggling)
Inferian: Chokers from GHOERE.
DM: Oh, ma—stop. Stop. Stop right now.
Falgrim: Ayeeeeeee.
Calinai: Burglar schlurglar.

The DM laughs so hard he sees spots. The players cheerfully attempt to push him over the edge into catatonia or death. Falgrim’s movement of 15 slows everyone up. Smoke curls up into the sky from the ravaged village as they draw closer.

Inferian: Does it smell delicious?
Sioneva: Long pig!
Calinai: (sighs exaggeratedly, then poorly imitates Inferian’s voice) “Does it smell delicious?” You’ve lost the ability to smell after years of fucking smoking.
Falgrim: No, he should be able to recognize it straight up. “Uh-oh. That’s not a good smell.”
Inferian: “Flashback!”
Falgrim: Smells like burnt family.

Everyone rolls terribly on a Listen check except Sioneva, but enough of them hear violence and mayhem ahead to prompt them to run face-first into danger like the adventurers they are. Actually only Falgrim runs; everyone else double-moves.

DM: Entering the boundaries of the village, every other building seems to be ablaze. Bodies lie helter-skelter in between buildings and out on the village green where you can see before you a pretty grisly scene. There are still shadowspawn moving here and there, cutting down people who happen to be in their way and doing their best to set fire to anything that’s not already burning.
Inferian: Yeah, it’s initiative time, isn’t it.

The DM begins drawing out the battlefield, while the players cheerfully play with the minatures formally titled “It’s This Big” and “It’s This Big Two”. Sioneva beats Inferian in the background, for reasons that are unclear but probably deserved. The players sing about dutch ovens to the tune of the old Crossfire commercial, while the DM openly declares his wet-erase scribbles to be the worst windmill ever.

Calinai: (looking at what was allegedly a house) The size is not accurate, I guess.
DM: It’s like a hut. These are peasant houses.
Calinai: Still… literally, this is a 5 by 10 hut. That’s a john. Even by medieval standards!
Falgrim: It is a bit small.
DM: They’re all built together. It’s a co-op. (widening the lines) Fine, you happy now?
Inferian: No.
Lars: There’s no spaces between the houses, we can’t like duck around them—
DM: Well there WERE but since the houses weren’t big enough for somebody!
Inferian: Yeah, the people trying to live in them, that’s who they weren’t big enough for!

The players, horrified, realize that they’d never had a chance to rest and heal properly after the last encounter. Falgrim in particular is cruising at 21 hit points. The DM blames Inferian.

Falgrim: (Inferian voice) Let’s move out now. Now! No stopping.
Inferian: Oh, the town’s on fire, quick, let’s all stop and heal.
DM: Oh, ‘cuz you knew that on top of the mountain.
Inferian: Yeah, I did.

Falgrim slams a couple healing potions retroactively. The DM starts putting down minis to represent the shadowspawn, as Inferian cheerfully criticizes his refusal to put the minis in one specific square. Chamberlain Sadler is in the middle, overlooking the scene. The DM keeps putting down minis… and putting down minis… and putting down minis…

Inferian: See, drawing it out works so much better, now we really have a sense of how fucked we are.
DM: A pair of half-men there, flanking Sadler.
Inferian: Aww, shit.
DM: I retroactively scaled back their touch AC.
Lars: Do any of the villagers come to help?
Inferian: They help by being difficult terrain. As corpses on the ground.
DM: I can draw out chalk outlines of the ones that are already dead…
Inferian: Seriously, there were two half-men in this party and they didn’t come up and fuck with us originally?
DM: There WERE two that came up and fucked with you originally. You dealt with one, the other one got away.
Inferian: I feel strongly that there was only one, he came out of the shadows and chased the kids.
Calinai: No, there was one in the front line.
Inferian: Oh okay, he must have been so trivial he did nothing.
DM: Falgrim pretty much split him in half.
Calinai: The guy walked into Falgrim’s attack and Falgrim just –
Inferian: He went down so easily I guess it didn’t even occur to me he was a half-man. ‘Cuz that first one we fought, he was a bitch, Falgrim just kept attacking and attacking and the rest of us could do nothing.
DM: Well you were two levels lower last time.
Inferian: Even so, that’s not that big of a difference.
DM: (putting out still more minis)
Calinai: When we first came in, “There’s just a few of them there,” I was expecting maybe five or six…
DM: Where are the ones with wings?

Inferian plops down eight mook minis behind their lines.

DM: (scarily delighted) Your minions, yay!
Calinai: We get to SEE them die, now!
Falgrim: Oh that’s right, we’ve got minions! The battle’s been kinda… sorta.. not really evened out. That guy’s facing backwards.
Calinai: He’s already started to retreat!
DM: Failed his morale check.
Inferian: Which he didn’t even have.
Calinai: Well they’re all facing the wrong way. Look at those dudes, they’re not even in shooting in the direction of—
Inferian: No one cares! No one cares.
Lars: They don’t even know what’s going on.
Calinai: That guy’s facing the wrong way…
Falgrim: “Duh, Lord Dragon, what’s going on?”
DM: “What’s going on?!” (plays musical stinger)

Lars insistently swaps out his mini for other minis, while Inferian vows to have minions take Leadership to get minions who take Leadership to get minions to take Leadership, at the same time noting it just takes one monster with Trample to solve THAT little abuse. The three boys end up in front of the heroes somehow.

Calinai: They’re gonna get KILLED up there! Thus defeating the purpose of us keeping them alive!
DM: Oh, they follow your orders now?
Inferian: They damn well better.
Calinai: I fucking grabbed them and threw them behind us, yeah.
Inferian: If they don’t follow our orders by this point, they deserve to die. Look, if they’re just gonna throw themselves on their swords, just have them do it!
DM: They don’t have swords.
Inferian: No, they’ve been holding some specifically to commit suicide.
Calinai: I rolled a 17.
DM: That’s your initiative?
Calinai: Yes. That’s also the damage I’ve done to everyone on the screen.
DM: Ohf. Take 17 points away from all of yourselves.
Inferian: I’m not on the screen, I’m on the battlemat.
DM: Oh. Ha. Eeeeeehh.
Lars: 17, god damn it! I’m out of the whole campaign!
Inferian: Welcome to D&D, roll a new character.

The PCs roll increasingly ludicrous initiative rolls, which the DM starts calling like a horse race. Calinai mocks the use of the ‘slaves’ mini for the use of the three farmboys. Meanwhile the PCs wish desperately for a fireball.

DM: Lars. Our dichotomy begins the combat.

A long pause ensues, after which the DM feels obligated to explain his Backstroke of the West reference. Calinai insistently adds a table to the battle mat for no reaon whatsoever. Lars’s first action is to cure himself. Lars moves forward.

Inferian: PICK A SQUARE!
Calinai: You’re in the middle of three. Inferian’s gonna go ballistic on you.
Inferian: AARGH! Why are we even using it?! We’re switching to hexes!
Caliani: Oh yeah, that’ll just add to the confusion.
DM: Valiha! I mean Sioneva. I gotta get that…
Sioneva: Sha-nay-nay!
Falgrim: Our work’s done.

Valiha hits a flier on a 21 as she fires from her bow, but the ignition effect of her arrows immediately fails. Falgrim’s knowledge tells him that they resist fire, to Calinai’s utter disgust. Inferian orders his minions to fire at the flying ones.

Calinai: Let’s see here if they take your orders. (rolling a die) They refuse.
Inferian: MIND CRUSH!
Calinai: Well there goes your action, good job, moron.
DM: Roll your attacks.
Inferian: I don’t know what their attacks are!
DM: Shall I roll it?
Inferian: They’re all first level dudes.
DM: (rolling) Pew. Pew. Pew. Oh, possible pewpew!

The minions do surprisingly well on their attacks for basic cannon fodder. Two of their foes move forward as exact mirror images of each other. Falgrim guesses Displacement, but the DM confirms there are in fact two. In the back, shadowspawn ignore the adventurers in favor of hacking at the door that protects a group of NPCs from their murderous attentions. Closer trollocs advance on the players, though, and one of them strikes Lars for 4 points. Another crits Falgrim for 10; normally no problem, but possibly trouble in his injured state. Sioneva takes two arrows for only six total.

DM: Rolling great to hit you, rolling shit for damage. This must be what it’s like to be Inferian.
Calinai: I think I’ll go Monty Python on that place. Just work your way in, killing people. Killing civilians and guards alike.
DM: Sadler there, by the pole –
Inferian: Oh that’s Sadler there?
DM: Yeah.
Calinai: Yes!
DM: I had mentioned that.
Inferian: I missed it.
Calinai: He was too busy going, (dramatic sigh)
DM: He raises his hand—
Calinai: Fireball, there goes the campaign.
DM: His physical form seems to change somewhat. His size is the same—
Inferian: Shit! Tenser’s Transformation!
DM: No. I looked at that one, but I decided not to – anyway. His features seem to shift and change as though an illusory spell were being removed.
Calinai: Ooh, ooh. Oooh. Knowledge(arcane) on this sonuvabitch.
DM: This is a spell losing its effect.
Calinai: I know, I wanna find out why.
Inferian: Because he dismissed it.
Calinai: I know, I wanna find out what spell it was.
DM:Alter Self?
Inferian: That’d be a Spellcraft roll.
Calinai: I still have that too. But you’ve gone and told me what it was, so I’ve lost my fun.
DM: Well I was kinda guessing. One of those spells that changes how you look. Remember who you’re talking to here.

The players insult Sadler’s sexuality for no apparent reason. A Knowledge(history) roll is called for, and Calinai rolls.

Inferian: I’m sorry, the Sedai have a distinct feminist slant, so it’s Knowledge(herstory).

The roll is adequate to identify the chamberlain as Magnus! The players pre-emptively panic and despair before the DM can even explain who the hell Magnus is, though after they cut it out he reveals that Magnus is one of the Six Forsaken, the chief lieutenants of the dark god of legends. Magnus casts a mage armorish spell on himself for his action.

DM: (irritated by a suggestion that Magnus was just leaving the battle) Teleports away. I don’t pull those dirty tricks like you.
Inferian: He did it last time.
DM: He wasn’t fighting you last time.
Inferian: HE WOULD HAVE BEEN if he hadn’t teleported away!
DM: He wasn’t there to fight you.
Caliani: I healed you for 14.
Lars: Oooh, thank you.
Inferian: You healed a Whitecloak!
DM: I could just make a ridiculously difficult monster and have it teleport as soon as you range… what’d you do?
Calinai: I healed him.
DM: Oh the surprise! Now you feel dirty as the witch heals you.
Inferian: Holy power flows through you from the witch Sedai.
Lars: GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!
Calinai: He rejects my healing, I take my spell back.
Inferian: Get ahold of yourself man! (making a slapping gesture) Ow! Full plate helmet!
DM: The shadowspawn pitch tents and use the fire of the buildings to pop popcorn as they watch the new battle unfold.

The DM vows arrows to the knee. The group briefly pauses to debate whether they knew Lars’s Whitecloak status in-character, having forgotten.

DM: Inferian – you wild surge for two?
Inferian: (grumbling) Yes.
DM: And? I’m just gonna assume. I don’t need to ask or hear it.
Calinai: He’s just gonna stop taking points away. “Yeah, I used it.”
DM: That’s what I do with my ninja in Falgrim’s campaign…
Inferian: Except it doesn’t cost me points, it gives me points. All right, I lift my hand and five bolts of lightning fly out, shooting right around Sadler to impact these five dudes. 30 points of lightning damage, they have a Reflex save for half, difficulty 23.
Calinai: No, “One more than you can roll.”

The DM gets confused over who exactly was getting shot. Inferian was trying to save the civilians from the assault on their shelter, but though none of them saved, they all remain standing.

DM: You definitely got the attention of the big one.
Inferian: That’s fine. He’s back there, I’m back there.
Calinai: “DIMENSION DOOR!”
Inferian: Don’t give the DM ideas.
Calinai: Everyone has Dimension Door!

Benar stabs a trolloc. Falgrim also steps forward to whack a trolloc; his damage roll is as low as possible to achieve, but he still does 25 after bonuses and Power Attack. The old 3.0 feat of Supreme Cleave, which lets you take a 5’ step between cleave attacks, comes back up, along with the Whirlwind Attack + Great Cleave + bag of rats exploit.

Calinai: And if you’re a giant, you have a bag of gnomes.

Falgrim makes his next iterative attack, finishing the trolloc without need to roll damage. The mechanics of deafness are raised as Lars ponders Silence.

Calinai: It’s okay, fellas, I already got us a beeline, we’re gonna be moving to Fifth Edition. Woo! Fifth Edition! It’s for babies!
DM: It’s for the pre-born, you read it to babies in the womb.
Inferian: Kick once for a power attack, twice for a cleave!

One of the flying creatures, a drakkar, moves up into the air, then charges, forcing Benar to make a Will save as it screams. Benar is reduced to a cowering mess as the drakkar attacks.

Calinai: Oh my god, a giant tea bag! (lowering a dice bag onto the field)
Sioneva: (finds this hilarious for some reason and cracks up)

Benar gets dropped to half health. The boys come up next in initiative order.

DM: Move up the slaves!
Inferian: No, you idiots!
DM: No, they won’t move up.
Inferian: I’ll take an attack of opportunity when they move through my threatened space to trip them if need be!

The tall boy shoots a trolloc and surprisingly crits it. The stout one snaps his bowstring, and the third misses. Confusion over which boy is named after which thinly-veiled character frustrates the DM. Lars’s turn comes up and the group yells at him to give away his Whitecloak affiliation once again. Without yelling a Whitecloak oath, he clocks a trolloc for 10. Sioneva continues to skirmish the drakkar she shot earlier, plugging a pair of arrows in it (an extra attack when skirmishing due to her magic boots).

DM: Mooks!
Inferian: Fire on the weak ones in the back!
DM: “We ARE the weak ones in the back!”
Inferian: Fire on the ENEMY weak ones in the back!
DM: I keep rolling crits for your mooks! And the slaves!
Inferian: Good! I don’t want to waste power on saving the civilians.
DM: (overtly laughing)
Inferian: I mean I’ll do it if I have to, but I’d rather have the mooks who are otherwise useless—
DM: (staring at his dice) The DAMAGE…
Inferian: Roll those finishing blows!
DM: (resigned) Take them all four down. I can’t believe your mooks did this. They’re going to be the unsung heroes of your campaign. (rolling dice, then trying to get the players to move the minis) Move those other two behind the -- on the right – no no no. Two. Other ones. No. No. No. Those two. Move them up to attack position. As they all. MISS. Lars. Damn you and your armor class. They swing and their weapons bounce futilely off your… armor… stuff. Sioneva – ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Oh, man, every time I hit you it’s 1s. Three points to you as another crossbow bolt finds a home in your tender flesh. Magnus casts another spell.
Falgrim: That bastard!
Inferian: Dwarfslay.
Falgrim: Oh, noooo.
Calinai: Counterspell! You counter dwarfslay with…
Inferian: Dwarfslay. You kill it first. It’s like the stack rules: last on, first off.

Magnus only casts on himself, though. Calinai debates between healing and attacking. She ponders buffing Falgrim’s strength, but the trollocs have so little staying power, she heals him instead, bemoaning the lack of a good AOE spell all the while.

Inferian: (having been randomly rolling 4d4 for some time now) This is the shittiest Dark Sun character anybody ever rolled.
Falgrim: Why are you rolling a d12?
Inferian: It’s a d4. This guy sucks! He doesn’t have a single stat above 13!
DM: Inferian!

Inferian fills his fists and rolls TERRIBLY on damage – four 1s and a 2 on 7d6, total of 18 points of damage.

Calinai: Oh look you killed him. He’s enhanced by the metal pole there he’s touching.
DM: That’s not metal—
Calinai: I’m joking, calm down, calm down!
Lars: He’s casting lightning so that metal pole should technically be doing MORE damage.
Falgrim: You just fucked up that metal pole, Inferian. If that metal pole was living, it’d be dead.

Benar activates his whirling dervish frenzy and starts failing to stab some things dramatically. Falgrim moves up into melee with the ones facing Lars, Power Attacks for seven, crits (with a weapon that has a frost burst effect, no less) and annihilates a trolloc without even bothering to roll, then cleaves.

Inferian: There’s nothing left of anything after he hits it. He hits it so hard it just turns into ice cubes and crumbles. Have you ever seen an ice cube get hit by an ice crusher? That’s what you did.
DM: Two more pawns fall… but now the knights come into play.

Benar blows an AOO as the two drakkari move together and perform a horrific double-scream attack that forces a Will save from everyone. Calinai stops Lars before he rolls a d12. The PCs pass as the NPCs fail en masse, except for one boy. Once again they start arguing over which NPC boy is named which.

Calinai: So I was reading True Ressurection, Inferian – the spell – and at level 18 you can resurrect people, without the corpse, 180 years back. Why are there dead people in the D&D world?
Inferian: Aren’t that many, what, 18th level clerics…
Calinai: I think in the 180 years, you could breed –between when the guy died and the limit, you could breed, like several clerics…
Inferian: I believe the cost on that is prohibitive.
Calinai: 25,000? Over 180 years you could save up and hire an 18th level cleric! Like, the king, eventually the king would die of old age…
Inferian: (hearing something in the actual game-related discussion between Falgrim and the DM) Stop saying Spring Attack!

The teabagging giant returns again, in a fit of maturity. The hero boy manages to hit again with an arrow!

Inferian: Falgrim, you wanna handle that thing by yourself or should I be tossing some stuff in?
Falgrim: “Wha’ happened to yer voice…?”
Inferian: I’m asking you out of character.
Calinai: Then why didn’t you call him [Falgrim’s player’s name]?

A pause. Inferian has no answer for this.

Calinai: (cheers victoriously)
DM: I gotta give that to you. I have to side with Calinai on this.
Falgrim: “I think I can take this guy, if I roll—“
Inferian: YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, BUDDY!

Lars furiously attempts to buff Falgrim, but everyone tells him to cut it the hell out; a Strength boost would be ludicrous overkill at this point. He instead attempts to clock a trolloc, but fails miserably. Inferian merrily reminds Falgrim of a game they had played in ages ago, in which the PCs rolled so many natural ones and consequently lost so many weapons behind bookshelves that they actually ran out of weapons to use. Dice crash through the minis as someone rolls injudiciously, cutting a swath through the back lines.

Inferian: Damn you, dice-playing giant! Watch where you’re rolling!
Sioneva: My teabag!
DM: The drakkar flutters like a leaf on the wind.
Lars: Float like a butterfly!
Calinai: Sting like a bee?
Falgrim: Sting like when I pee.
DM: The mooks continue to cower and cringe.

The paired half-men appear on the outskirts of the mook army, having stepped through shadows to transport a tremendous distance. Magnus’s turn come up, and the players immediately interpret his previous actions of casting spells on himself as gratuitously masturbatory. Inferian foolishly mentions the Sculpt Spell feat, along with the accompanying ability to sculpt an antimagic field that doesn’t affect the caster. Everyone else at the table who runs a campaign begins openly salivating. Magnus casts… a magic missile spell.

Inferian: “Magic Missile? Seriously?”
DM: GREATER Magic Missile.
Inferian: “What the fuck is that? You’re just making shit up now.”
DM: I wish I were.
Calinai: My guy should be shocked. “I was scared of you?”
Falgrim: Greater Empowered?
Calinai: This is the greatest waste of a level 5 slot I’ve ever heard of. Greater Empowered Magic Missile? OH NOES! 6 damage per missile!
Inferian: God, if only I had my level in Anarchic Initiate now, I would be annihilating these dudes.
Calinai: I would be crying there. “Why is he wasting the magic, I don’t understand…”
DM: 26 points of damage, Inferian, as the magic missile slams directly into your chest.
Falgrim: He DID jizz on you.
DM: As it hits him, it splinters off many-facetedly.

The burst of force does mild AOE damage that washes over the others. Calinai in particular is shocked, and mildly offended at the spell. This begins a long diversion over the spell, as well as Calinai pointing out she COULD do more damage with a Scorching Ray.

Calinai: But I have to heal, so that’s what I’m doing.
Inferian: It’s only Inferian, let him die.
Calinai: No, that’s why I made the character, to heal, so…
DM: The arrogance of Inferian has finally begun to grate on your Sedai upbringing—
Inferian: The VOICE of Inferian has finally driven you over the edge!
Calinai: 14.
DM: You have an irresistible urge to NOT heal him. Inferian, will you let this go unpunished?
Inferian: Does 23 hit him?
DM: His touch AC? Easily.
Inferian: “I’m not impressed.” FWOOM! 37 points of fire damage.
DM: There’s a look of curiosity on his face as it hits him.
Inferian: “That’s right, you’re fucking with Lord Dragon now, bitch.”
DM: No, no, he’s reacting in the sort of way of, “That was not a spell, but yet it hit me like one…”

Calinai meanwhile is rummaging through the Spell Compendium trying to find this spell. Falgrim whacks the big guy with a 21, which successfully Detects AC, and continues to smack around the guy, though play slowly grinds to a halt as more and more players get sucked into trying to find the spell. A drakkar claws Sioneva effectively.

Lars: She’s obsessed with this spell… (to Calinai) Just let it be, dude! We’re a couple rounds off!
Calinai: I wanna share something with you. I’m a wizard, it might be useful.
Inferian: Calinai gets angry at things…
DM: How dare my monsters not lie down and die for you.
Calinai: I’m not – never mind. (tossing the book down) I’m not looking it up. I was interested in the spell ‘cuz I hadn’t used it before.
DM: I wasn’t talking about that!
Calinai: It’s what everyone else is talking about. Fuck!
Sioneva: I’m not talking about anything.

Gaming is now totally suspended as the hunt for this spell ensues. The DM’s notes are no help. Inferian becomes convinced the spell in question is Force Missiles. 10 minutes in total pass, as the DM finally decided it was Chain Missile. Somewhere in the scrabbling over amazing spells in the Compendium, Falgrim actually gets hit, while Lars narrowly avoids a crit thanks to his high AC. Farmboy Brand drops a trolloc with yet ANOTHER hit. Lars retreats and heals himself, undoing the last hit and change. Sioneva chugs a healing potion in turn. Magnus’s turn is up, and the players question if they actually know who he or the others of his ilk are.

DM: Their names are typically the ones used to get misbehaving children to fall in step and go to bed when they’re supposed to.
Inferian: “This is for my childhood nightmares, you bastard!”
DM: “Take out the trash or Magnus will come for you.”
Calinai: That’s kind of weird. He walks up in front of your house, you’re forgetting to take out your trash. “Garbage day!” Pkwow!
DM: “Garbage day?! Flame missile!”
Calinai: Fireballs shoot out and kill five kids nearby.
Inferian: “Mom, dad, you were right!”
Falgrim: “Oh my god he’s eating my sister. And then he’s gonna eat me!”
Falgrim, Inferian, and DM: “OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!”

The transcriber curses the necessity of a triple attribution, then and now. The DM renews his calls for a podcast.

DM: I guarantee you we’d be viral inside of three weeks.
Inferian: Uh, Hitler, dead babies, dead babies, Hitler…

The players burst into full-out podcast mode, which then segues into how they could most spit in the face of haters.

DM: Or we could commission an oil painting of Hitler taking the lid off a dinner tray, and there’s like cooked baby…

Paralytic laughter.

Inferian: (German accent) “Fresh-cooked in my oven!”
Calinai: That is a description of every conflict ever… Hitler, he’s got like a chef’s hat on…
Falgrim: Shit-eating grin.
Inferian: Chef Boy-R-Hitler. It all tastes like dead cat except for the ones with sausage, those taste like sausage and dead cat for some reason.
Calinai: Oh man. I’d like to welcome you all to the train that’s going straight to hell.
Inferian: Double Hitler all across the sky!
Falgrim: Double Hitler? What does it mean?
Calinai: There’s just two Hitlers doing this (a gesture I don’t even remember) forming a single parade in the sky. Double Hitler all the way!
DM: A finger comes out of the cloud.
Inferian: Michaelangelo’s “The Birth of Racist Man.”
Calinai: It’s just this differed oil paintings of horribleness.
Falgrim: Each episode’s little card in the beginning would be a different internet meme with Hitler added to it.
Inferian: Muench’s “The Scream… ing Hitler.” He’s in front of a sign that says “Jews Allowed.”
Sioneva: The Sistine Chapel, with the hand of God, instead of cherubs around, it’s just dead babies…
Inferian: “The Birth of Hitler,” he’s in a clamshell, his mustache is covering his crotch.
Calinai: One day we’ll do a livestream and just be arrested. Like the first day we’ll remember it’s there. Second time, we’ll completely forget.
Sioneva: We’ll be doing the livestream and we’ll be hanging out here, and all of a sudden…
Inferian: “That’s a LOT of cop cars.”
DM: Someone must be playing Stupiduel, that’s what they’re here for. “We’re here for the Calinai-killing robot.”

…I will explain that reference if anyone wants me to.

Lars returns from the bathroom, which, incidentally, is one reason this conversation has gone on so long, since the game can’t continue.

Falgrim: Could you hear that conversation, or did you miss it?
Lars: All I heard was Hitler and dead babies.
Inferian: So you heard it all.

The half-men twins seize Brand, scooping him up and moving back to the edge of the battle radius. The players note how badly the world seems to want to kill at least one of those boys, and contemplate just letting it happen. Magnus finally acts by animating several of the dead bodies. Calinai elects to counter this by turning undead, which leads to a lengthy diversion into the rules of doing so (it happens so rarely!). Several of the undead promptly flee. Inferian, attempting to slay the twins, unleashes an Energy Missile on both of them. Horribly, this breaks the game – the two creatures share a hit point pool, so his attack only hits them once despite hitting both of them. This devolves into about seven minutes of confused arguing before they finally declare MST3K Mantra on the whole mess.

Inferian: This whole sessions is going to be one long combat, because we suck on staying on target. We just need someone on the radio the entire game. “Stay on target!” Every time we start talking about Hitler. “Stay on target!”
DM: That was a minimal break in gameflow this evening, I’d like to point out.
Inferian: Calinai is looking up a spell? “Stay on target!”
Calinai: Damn it!
Inferian: We’ll put it right up there next to the meta alarm.

Falgrim hews into trollocs while Lars and Inferian discuss the mechanics of Turn Hitler. His opponent is designated the anti-Falgrim, as this one has survived all the dwarf’s blows thus far. A drakkar (I think) drops onto Calinai to claw her violently. Inferian, meanwhile, spins dice. Lars is befuddled by Inferian’s ability to spin a d6.

Inferian: Stay on target!

The massive trolloc whacks Falgrim with a Power Attack, and Falgrim briefly fears for his own survival. The hit leaves him with only 4 hit points left. Lars hastily heals him, though it’s clear that’s a losing battle. Sioneva feathers the trolloc fighting Falgrim, though it still stands as well.

DM: The mooks rise, ready to do their slave-master’s building once more! However they are now…
Calinai: Level zero warriors.
DM: No. They are, however, shaken, for a couple of rounds…
Lars: (playing, on his phone, “Stay on target! Stay on target!”)

The mooks fire wildly at the half-men twins, doing little; a trolloc strikes Inferian by firing straight through a wide range of combatants, just because he was free. The half-men bolt into the shadows, carrying the child, at ludicrous speed (150 feet while carrying a person!). Magnus turns invisible. Inferian finally uses his psicrown, burning power points out of it to fly and gain an extra move action, then takes off after the two half-men.

Calinai: I’m now convinced that they’re probably – you remember the half-man we fought?
Inferian: Yeah, he was obsessed with the kids.
Calinai: He was obsessed with taking one of those kids, and we couldn’t figure out which because they were all together.
Inferian: No, he went after Mallory first. He was really specifically going after him.

Falgrim abruptly shuts down the entire conversation, declaring it a bunch of BS completely unrelated to the battle and just Calinai and Inferian bickering. Stunned, the two fall completely silent and the game resumes. Benar gets nicked by a trolloc for 10, then hacks back at an undead one, destroying it – his first worthwhile action this fight. Inferian notes that he just can’t roll a hit with Benar’s short sword.

Inferian: “Benar, we need to strengthen that left hand of yours. From now on, when you’re thinking of me, use THAT hand to wank it.”
Sioneva: That explains so much, Inferian. So much.

Hindsight reveals that in the next fight, Benar rolled incredibly with his short sword and terribly with his longsword. Awkwaaaaard. Falgrim knocks the melee trolloc down to negative hit points, only to discover it has the Die Hard feat. Luckily he has a second blow.

DM: Leaving your feet with all your dwarven might—
Falgrim: That’s like two inches off the ground.
DM: You bring your sword in a large downward arc. It starts to bite into his opposite shoulder.
Inferian: Its damage is warded away.
Falgrim: Ffffffffffffffffffffffff—
DM: Some of its damage is warded away. But raging and cracking your teeth, spitting blood from your beard through all your wounds, you will the blade further down, until it buries itself somewhere down by its stomach.
Inferian: You can do extra damage just by WILLING it?! Why haven’t you been doing that before?!
DM: And the creature topples, taking you back to the earth with it. As you pull the sword free—
Falgrim: Gore gets in my beard.
DM: You feel the dwarven rush of victory.
Inferian: An arm gets in your beard.
Falgrim: “Aye… time for a brew.”

A drakkar attempts to flee by flapping vigorously upwards. Lars attempts to whack the last trolloc and fails embarrassingly. Sioneva and the mooks step up admirably, shooting the trolloc through the kneecap and causing it to immediately become a Whiterun guard.

DM: Move the twins another 150 feet.
Inferian: (looking at the map, which is no way in hell large enough for this) Let’s just assume it.

The players remain looking around, wondering where the hell Magnus went – but he’s noninteractive at this point, so they just keep mopping up.

DM: Inferian, you’re right where you were before.
Inferian: I burn another three points out of the crown to take a triple move to go 180 feet, that’ll catch me up with them. Ascend slightly so I’m not in fucking melee range with them.
DM: Awwwww. They were hoping for that.
Inferian: 10 feet up and 10 feet back. “DROP THE CHILD!”
DM: Well he’s… full-grown, just a lad.
Inferian: “DROP THE LAD!”
DM: Actually, you’re younger than he is, I think.
Inferian: Shut up.
DM: You’re 16, right?
Inferian: I’m 17, thank you.
DM: You’re still younger than he is.
Inferian: I’m older in spirit. Also I’m the fucking Lord Dragon!

Falgrim puts down an undead trolloc. The drakkar decides to scream and dive at Lars, who laughs off the fear-scream. It gets in a hit, but then promptly slams into the ground. Somehow this fails to kill it, as does Lars clubbing it for 10. The DM moves the two twin-minis.

Inferian: They move 150 feet away, I assume.
DM: No.
Inferian: No?
Calinai: They’re jumping up to attack you, apparently!
Inferian: They teleport the fuck away, I wasted all of this.
DM: No. Not after all this effort was put into this.
Calinai: (placing the mini for Magnus directly behind Inferian) “Ha ha. How’s it goin’?”
DM: “Miss me?!” That’s too tempting. Don’t you know—
All: You never split the party!
DM: I should make you pay for it too!

The two half-men release the boy and vanish into the shadows behind the trees. They immediately reappear in trees above him and leap at Inferian to attack. The DM starts rolling.

Falgrim: How many hit points you got left, Inferian?
Inferian: I’m not gonna say until after he rolls. I’m not gonna give him the easy out of “Oh, it just did ONE less than you were supposed to suffer.”
DM: But killing you is the whole point of this campaign!
Inferian: I think you’re about to succeed.

Inferian avoids one attack, and then takes 9 points from other – then blows a Fortitude save to resist poison. He takes 12 hit points further.

Inferian: I’m dead when the secondary hits.
DM: So you’re down?
Inferian: No. Guess how much I have left.
DM: One?
Inferian: Yep.
DM: Yeah, the secondary WILL kill you.

Inferian, just barely out of AOO range, swoops down, grabs the kid, and flies up into the air where the half-men can’t get him. Back to town he goes!

Inferian: I should still get back to town in ten rounds. Just enough time to hand over the boy and then breathe some dying words. “Tell… my thralls… I love them.”
Sioneva: (bursting into laughter)

The other combat resumes, as Inferian quietly notes he’s pumping 2d6 healing into himself for three rounds from his belt. The group cheerfully chain high-fives Inferian for his success. Sioneva kills the drakkar and the mooks finish off a trolloc. The field is theirs, after the long brutal battle (seriously, it was four hours).