The game begins… too loudly.

Ralth: TODAY I WILL TALK VERY LOUDLY.
DM: That’d be a fucking first! By the way, because you’re talking so loudly, -10 to all your Move Silently rolls.

Last time, since Dian had been absent, his character had been casually brushed aside. First order of business: Solve that little problem.

DM: Dian. You spent some time paralyzed—
Dian: Yeah, like four weeks…
DM: And to your horror you realized that it wasn’t wearing off. In fact, breathing became more difficult for you. Slowly you lost consciousness. The first thing you see when you awaken is the ancient, withered face of a dwarven crone, staring down at you, poking at your cheek.
Dian: “CUT IT OUT!” Oh wait… wait, what’s this voice?
Ralth: Christopher Lee.
Iglar: I like that, kinda.
DM: The paralysis changed his voice from Christopher Lee… to Nolan Batman.
Dian: “What are you doing?!”
Ralth: “Stop poking meeeee.”

It immediately segues into a discussion of Batman and parodies thereof. The DM declares this to be a potential record for quickest derail ever.

Ralth: All right. Channel Christopher Lee. “Lollipops. Or cavities on a stick.”
Dian: Cut that out.
DM: “Well, you’re awake, are ya?”
Dian: “No.”
DM: “Well, then I better go back to pokin’ ya.”
Dian: Roll for initiative! I’ll kung-fu this bitch!
Ralth: Well, Dian’s gonna die.
Dian: “Who are you, crone, and why doest thou poke me?!”
DM: “Yer friends asked me to do a little favor for them, an’ doctor ye up.”
Dian: “You are female, aren’t you.”
DM: “Aye, but it’s been a long time since it mattered. Would you like some proof? (reaching for his shirt)
Dian: Aaaagh! Fortitude save – or is that Will save?
DM: It’s all of the saves. Fortitude to no go blind, Will to not go mad, Reflex to dodge as they flop out.
Dian: All right, I passed everything but the reflex.
DM: You take 2d6 bludgeoning damage, one for each boob. They sag at you aggressively. And as they both hit you, free rake damage from the pointy nipples.

Dian swiftly orients to his environment, including the column of water and, most particularly, the giant elemental.

DM: Still wanna roll for initiative?
Dian: You and your elementals… Didn’t we fight one of those in that stupid gauth room?

The group squabbles over who fought the elemental that had led to this whole side-incursion to begin with. Iglar is blamed for everything… ever. The crone quickly brings Dian up to speed on how this all happened.

Dian: We have… good water elemental… and bad…?
Sargassas: They’re all kinda neutral. Apparently we just got a little too close to the water, and, and uh, he… there was an altercation?
DM: There was an incident. Things were damage that couldn’t be undamaged.
Dian: You have my gratitude.
Iglar: It’s all water under the bridge.
Dian: Aaaaaaagh.

The elemental sends Dian shooting through the watery passages of the mountain. Action cuts back to the main group, standing over the bodies of the five gnomish adventurers.

Dian: You killed innocents.
Sargassas: They weren’t innocent!
Dian: And you killed innocents while I was away. That’s fucked up! You finally do something—
Sargassas: They were halflings! Halflings are evil! Er, gnomes.
Khoriane: They were svirfneblin!
Dian: You finally do something fun and I can’t be a part of it. Iglar and Max get to have fun, but no…
Sargassas: We smashed a party of level 1s, it wasn’t that awesome,
Dian: It sounds awesome!
DM: It was pretty awesome, Khori whipped out a wand of lightning bolt and popped three of them in one blow.
Dian: How many?
DM: THREE!
Dian: So they’re down, right?
Ralth: All of them but one went deaf.
Dian: Three are down, then?
DM: All but one are collapsed.
Dian: Did I kill three?
DM: No.
Dian: You all broke the DM, that’s what I’m really upset I missed. Where you went into the kitchen muttering obscenities over how many gnomes were killed from the lightning wand… So these three are dead, right?

The group tries to come up with as many feeble and flimsy justifications for attacking or being attacked by Dian as he bursts out of the water in front of them. The DM suggests that he ought to have made this a doppelganger adventure, though Sargassas pointed out how ineffective that was in a prior conversation.

Iglar: “I’m not happy with this previous encounter. There is very little glory in killing gnomes! There’s no mounting trophies or bragging about it afterwards.”
Dian: “It’s more of an adventure than I had…”
Sargassas: “I never said I was bragging about it…”
Iglar: “It doesn’t matter how much of their ‘vile magic’ they threw at you, there is no bragging about killing gnomes.”
Sargassas: “I didn’t brag about—“
Iglar: “I NEED TO BRAG ABOUT KILLING THINGS!”
Sargassas: “Well then don’t brag about this! The only difference in this situation is that they would have attacked first.”
Iglar: “Look… th-that’s not the point, anyway…”
Sargassas: “Why am I arguing with you?”
Iglar: “I’m not arguing with anyone, all I’m saying is that there’s a whole city of these vile things that can’t be claimed as trophies.”
Dian: You guys need to be next to each other. Trade with me.
Sargassas: No! Keep him away!
DM: (prophetically) For the same reason why Sargassas and I never sit together when we’re playing.
Iglar: “I have half a mind to go back right now and launch a frontal assault on this necromancer’s fortress… How do we know he’s even back here? The mayor’s probably sent us on a fool’s errand to meet our death buy a thousand tiny inglorious spears.”
Sargassas: “The water elemental told us where we needed to go. We don’t even know where the front of this guys castle is. We’ll just keep going this way till we get there. That’s how things work.”
Ralth: Without this hisses?
Sargassas: (a pause) “Sssss. Ssssssssss.”
Iglar: “If life was fair –“ (pointing angrily and glaring at the DM) “If LIFE was FAIR…”

The group plans to interrogate the gnome as soon as the thunderstone wears off, and for the meantime, Ralth ties her up. The group debates their next option – not wishing to cut their way through an entire gnome city, but not exactly flush with choices.

Sargassas: “I would think that at this point we’re kinda in trouble. We took out what… four guards near the entrance, some more guards earlier in the cave, these five adventurers… one of these, knowing our luck, might be the son or daughter of the king of this particular land… I have any doubt talking is going to work in this situation.”
Ralth: “Yeah, I agree, I don’t think negotiations are really part of the plan at this point.”
Iglar: “Well, I guess I trust you, Ralth.”
Ralth: “You’d better, you owe me money.”

Ralth creeps on ahead, peering around a corner to spy an old wizened gnome standing in front of two massive iron doors, near several large sacks. And he’s holding a white flag.

Ralth: Does my knowledge of gnomish…. anything tell me this is not exactly what we’re thinking?
DM: What knowledge of gnomish anything?
Ralth: (sadly) I don’t know…
Iglar: I think Sense Motive is appropriate here. Try to Spot that poisoned dagger in his back pocket.
Ralth: I do have some alchemist fire. Burn the old man alive! Oh, actually I don’t have Sense Motive…
DM: To your best of your knowledge, this guy appears to be on the up-and-up, from what you can gauge of his body language. The weary expression. The tear trickling out of his eyes.
Dian: Aww, you guys slaughtered their only hope, didn’t you.
Sargassas: I kinda hope so.
Ralth: The guards are better than their fucking adventuring party!
DM: But they’re adventurers, they’re supposed to be better by definition.
Ralth: All right, all right. I’ll make my way back and report.
DM: You creep back.
Dian: We never see you coming.
DM: You see a shadowy small figure sneaking up on you guys. It might be a gnome!
Iglar: It’s probably Ralth/
DM: All right, a gnome slays you all. Ralth, you come back to see their corpses.
Ralth: “Welp, time to go find something new.”

Ralth reports on his findings. Various skill checks lead them to believe in the offer’s veracity. Sargassas and Khoriane vie for the position of Most Charismatic, which Khoriane wins.

Iglar: She’s a very expressive fluffy moth.
Khoriane: God, I can’t argue that…
Iglar: Let’s see, which one of us is scariest?
Dian: Scariest?
Ralth: Max!
Dian: We can put you on Max’s shoulder.
Iglar: And put a big cloak over us!
Dian: “I AM THE DWEAD PIWATE WOBEWTS!”
Sargassas: “I am the last person that should go. Gnomes that wander too close to the swamps are delicious treats for my people. Like little bite-sized snacks.”
DM: I like how Sargassas just has to go on and on about how much he loves eating people to cover the fact that he doesn’t eat people. It’s like he’s going off.. “Yeah, I love to bone women, I’m not attracted to guys at all.”
Dian: He’s like ALF living with the Tanners, he WANTS to eat cat, but he can’t.
DM: Except he ended up NOT eating the cat, because he came to accept him as a member of the family.
Dian: Well he got to know the cat, first. You wouldn’t spend four months with a cow and then eat it.
DM: I dunno, Sargassas might eat Ralth if he ever went down.
Dian: He did. Well, the wolves were fighting you over the dinner.

Forward they advance, and the gnome waves his flag furiously as they approach, calling out for a parley.

DM: “You have beaten our finest warriors! We will give you all our money and valuables if you simply pass through our city unmolested!”
Max: (laughing sardonically)
Dian: They’re asking us to not be attacked in their city.
Iglar: “Well that sounds like a very nice offer to me.”
Dian: “It sounds like a shakedown, except they’re not doing the shaking down.”
Ralth: Thank God I’m not Lawful…
DM: “Please give us back our daughter,” he says, pointing to the gnome slung over Iglar’s back.
Ralth: Oh yeah….
DM: “We will give you our treasure now, if you only agree to this.”
Iglar: “Give us your treasure on the other side, or something…”
DM: “But we already brought it over here.”
Iglar: “Show it to us.”
DM: …He points at the sacks. He opens up the nearest sack, revealing a gleaming pile of coins!
Dian: Bite it first!
Ralth: (mimes biting, then choking)
Dian: The gold was poisoned!
Ralth: Crafty… gnomes…
Dian: But Sargassas is SO HUNGRY!

The characters discuss this offer amongst themselves, very hesitant to accept the offer after the gnomes attacked them repeatedly. Iglar suggests they trade the girl for the old man, believing he’d make a better hostage.

Dian: So they want the little girl back. That we didn’t kill. That YOU didn’t kill. I can actually say I wasn’t part of the evildoing this time.
Ralth: It wasn’t evil! Self-defense.
Dian: That’s not what the PIG thought.
DM: (bursts into laughter)
Ralth: I’m gonna quote the DM here: “It’s MEAT on LEGS!”
DM: You’re quoting Sargassas if you’re talking about a gnome!

The old gnome agrees to be their hostage, making the group suspect malice because it’s too easy. They interrogate the gnome about the necromancer, but he knows nothing about him – though he tells them how to reach the fortress once on the other side of the city. They then turn to the sacks.

Iglar: “Ralth, can you check the sacks to make sure it’s not a trap?”
DM: Gremlins! You foolishly feed them after midnight and then get them wet.

The DM produces his list of treasure, and the group immediately starts fighting violently over who has to record the loot.

Sargassas: Look at this! Look at this list!
Ralth: I know. Descriptions should not be this long.
Sargassas: Oh my god, this must be the loot from 15 adventures! No, sir, this is one adventure, this is another adventure, it should not be this long!
Iglar: Yes it should, we did not get enough loot to get up to the expected core wealth in the DMG.
Sargassas: “You find a golden crown. The crown’s metal is spiked, arched in many ways. Each arch has a particular gem in it. And that gem has another gem.” You write the description down, you see how much you like it then. “Golden crown with gems in it,” I put down, because I got tired of writing.
DM: But if I was describing a statue to you guys, you’d want it all so you could put it in your front yard.

The DM begins reading the loot. Sargassas demands that the DM start printing out their loot sheets and passing it over, while Ralth struggles with the spelling of amethyst.

DM: You’ll love this one: Four fine spider-silk magnificently-stitched armbands with silver runes inlaid.
Sargassas: THROW DICE AT HIM!

Sargassas goes for alcohol. The DM continues to read of loot as shots are distributed amongst the group.

DM: Take a shot every time an item description is longer than two lines.
Sargassas: We’d be dead!
DM: Now we need drinking games for all of our campaigns.
Ralth: …actually, give me 2.

Somehow the group convinces itself that a jaunty leather hat is a Charisma hat, to the DM’s alarm. Iglar looks for psionic items, but he’d missed the session where all the psionic items were given out, then sold off because Iglar hadn’t been there. Dian starts an angry chant to kill the DM, for no real reason. The group steps into the narrow passage that leads from one side of the doors to the other, predicting a trap the entire time.

DM: On the other side, there are many gnomes, looking like they’ve been hastily conscripted for this purpose, facing you with makeshift weapons and so forth, but none are at the ready. They’re simply there in case you decided to slay the old man and charge right in. He calls out as the doors open, “They’ve agreed to pass without harming us!” There’s a visible wave of relief passing through the ranks.
Iglar: Iglar is looking out for that pesky wizard who escaped his javelin.
DM: Roll a Spot check.
Iglar: 13.
DM: You see no wizard.
Dian: Iglar casts “Kill Gnome” on the wizard.

The gnomes hesitantly claim the deafened, unconscious girl from Iglar and the scatter like crazy. Down the main street they head.

DM: Within a few minutes of your arrival, the street have completely emptied. You look around and you can see people peering out of shutter in the building—
Dian: And then closing them. It’s like an old western gnome town.
Iglar: How is all this lit?
DM: (completely blindsided by this question, is just silent for a moment)
Ralth: (laughing)
Dian: Hee hee hee, he had to come up with it real fast,.
Sargassas: “They weren’t supposed to ask that question!”
Ralth: It’s one of those questions you weren’t expecting, those throw you off. You’re like, “Why would you ask something like that?”
Dian: The second dungeon I made, I specifically thought of something ahead of time and you didn’t even ask.
Sargassas: I like the stunned look on his face.

The DM answers ‘lanterns’ and that’s it. The gnome beckons them onward.

DM: “We need merely cross and we’ll be at the other side swiftly.”
Dian: Cross the bridge…
Ralth: Of Doom. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, we dug too deeply.”
Sargassas: The min-Balrog comes out. It’s huge for them, but—
Ralth: It’s Medium-sized…
DM: You hear a horrible crash in the distance and a roar, then a wash of flame shoots down the street. “I forgot to tell you… we Dig-Dug too deep.” FYGAR looms before you!
Ralth: “Quick, get my bicycle pump.”
DM: Max and Khori die.
Khoriane: What’d we do?
DM: You’ll never know, you weren’t paying attention.
Khoriane: I was paying attention, I was listening to you.
DM: What’d I just say?
Khoriane: You said that we died.
DM: Who died?
Khoriane: Me and [Max].
DM: What about you two? Iglar: They died!
DM: Who died?
Iglar: The DM in a moment, if you don’t keep going.

They reach the far side of the city and another tunnel through. Iglar finds the solicitousness of the gnome concerning, but he explains that all the creatures of the tunnels are hostile to gnomekind. The DM begins describing what happens when they step into the passage, only to hear protests that they hadn’t done so.

Sargassas: That’s why I’m not saying anything. He puts us in the room and sets the trap, like, I didn’t say I exited the room!
DM: I know what you guys love to do is sit there and say nothing, then when I say, “As you do THIS, SOMETHING happens—“ “I NEVER DID THAT, NO!” But if I just sat and waited for you to say you did it… nope. “You stand there like an idiot.” “You stand there like an idiot.”

The far iron door descends, revealing that the right side of the door is clogged up. The group abruptly stops right there to study the items they received to determine if they’re magical. Iglar steps forward and promptly gets hit by a ray dealing 19 points of fire damage.

Iglar: “Fuck me” is what Iglar says.

Initiative! Iglar rolls a 2. Ahead of them, gnomes crouch between a mostly-wood barricade. Iglar curses them for breaking the truce. All of them appear to be wavering and distorted, under the effects of blur. A gnome moves, and then Iglar has to make a Reflex saving throw.

Iglar: Fuck. A 10.
DM: You fall to the ground as beneath you, and in a square backwards, grease coats the ground.
Iglar: Fuck! For the second time!

Ralth holds his initiative, then changes his mind and hurls a thunderstone into the fray, deafening a gnome. Dian attempts to use Iglar as a springboard over the grease, but ends up just charging forward to pummel with a Sapphire Nightmare Fist – promptly rolling a natural 1. The DM finally gets Max to turn his video game off and pay attention, an hour and a half into the game. Khoriane flies forward to enable the Maxbomb, then fires an eldritch blast which misses thanks to the blur.

DM: The guy over there with the bow draws back, and then fires an arrow at Iglar. Hitting. Hitting a vital area no less.
Iglar: Aaaugh!
Ralth: Right in his balls.
DM: It’s not a crit. He sneak-attacks you for a total of 11 damage. Sargassas!
Sargassas: It is probably no surprise what I am doing.
Dian: You should probably heal Iglar.
Sargassas: Really?
Ralth: Sargassas dimensions his door out of here and goes back to the guild.
DM: “Ssso long, ssuckersss!”

Sargassas does just that, while Iglar curses. A gnome with a greatsword steps forward.

Dian: A gnomish greatsword? Is that like Sting?
DM: No, he misses.
Dian: Did he hit his friend?
DM: No, he simply put too much of his strength into the blow.
Dian: Or did I just put my hand out? I couldn’t help it. I’m not contemptuous of these little bastard.
Iglar: There’s a gnome standing over him, presumably with a halberd—
Sargassas: No, he’s standing around the corner. You can’t really seem him. Presumably he can’t get an AOO through the wall. Unless the DM’s pulling off something magical.
DM: To the best of your knowledge, he cannot attack you.
Max: The wall turns out to be an illusion!
DM: The wall turns out to be a mimic!
Iglar: Iglar sees Max behind him, brandishing a weapon! In front of him, the fluffy moth. Boom! Dimensional Swap!

After a vigorous debate on whether or not the half-ogre can fit where he’s placed, Max swaps into the barrier and smashes it underfoot.

Max: Oh my god, I can just picture the horror on these gnomes’ faces. All of a sudden a giant guy--
Diam: THEIR face, fuck, you bamfed right in front of me too. AAAAGH!

For the record, the Maxbomb is an invalid technique – Dimensional Swap, when manifested by a psychic warrior, has to affect the warrior as one of its targets. But hindsight is 20/20! A warrior steps up with a great…weapon of some sort.

DM: That’s just barely a hit because this is a touch attack, as he strikes you with his greatsword… greataxe…
Dian: His greatswordaxe?
Iglar: Goddamnit it, DM, is that a warblade? Are you making gnome warblades for fun?
Khoriane: Probably!
Iglar: He’s sitting on the can, like, “What to do today…”
DM: He’s figured me out! Shit! You take 13 points of damage from his blow.
Max: Good god, man, that thing deals a hell of a punch!

The psion manifests a power, but Iglar blows his Psicraft roll to identify it. Energy missiles deal 10 damage to both Dian and Max – both saved.

Ralth: I guess I gotta make a Balance check to get through that grease…
DM: Yes. Good luck with that.

Ralth zips forward to strike the gnome, barely successfully. Dian works laboriously to Mighty Throw a gnome, necessitating much rules consultation and mathing.

Dian: 37 will hit this guy, right?
DM: Yeah. Maybe a little.

Khoriane blasts a gnome as Dian finally completes his attack and rolls quite well on damage.

DM: You slam this guy directly in the face. It’s sort of like punching a Dragon Ball Z guy, you feel no give whatsoever. You withdraw, he just sort of -- (mimes spitting to the side) -- and seems unaffected.
Ralth: Uh-oh.
Dian: Somebody detect – or identify – stuff! You kidding me?! Did he Share Pain with someone? Iglar, identify that shit!
Iglar: I’m on the ground… It’s a gnome, just punch him again.
Dian: It was 24 points of damage that he just shrugged off! I can’t do that again.
Iglar: Can Iglar try to identify the psionic power that was used there?
DM: You suspect this guy is protected by Vigor.
Dian: That’s it? “Oh, I’m energetic! OW!” What happens when he wild surges for two?
Iglar: Vigor gives you a shitload of additional hit points… why don’t I have this?!

The archer drops his bows and draws his melee weapons, sneak-attacking Khoriane for 13. The gnome Dian attacked misses him. Sargassas casts mass aid. Iglar stands!

DM: Ralth, you get an attack of opportunity as Iglar stands.
Ralth: (mimes shanking Iglar)

Iglar promptly botches his Reflex save and falls right back on his ass. Furious, he hurls a spear at the warblade, promptly missing.

DM: Max, what are you doing?
Max: (who is taking a page from Khoriane and stubbornly refusing to look at the battle) Um. Is there somebody in front of me?
Ralth: Yes.
Sargassas: There’s PLENTY of people.
Ralth: Smash ‘em.
Sargassas: There’s three people in a ten foot range.
Ralth: But – one of them is friendly, do not…
Dian: Smash. Jelly. Smuckers. Smuckers him!

Max wallops the psion out of the combat with 28 damage.

Iglar: Pre-production jelly is now post-production jelly!
DM: The warblade plants his axe firmly in your buttocks for seventeen points of damage.
Max: OH MY GOD!
DM: MOUNTAIN HAMMER!

Ralth rolls two ones on his sneak attack damage, coming up with nine damage in total.

Iglar: The DM’s like, “Yes, my warblade, product of two hours of labor, lives another minute.”
DM: I work so hard and they die so fast.
Ralth: Like that one crusader with the goblins… that was funny. He was almost down in one round.

Khoriane and Dian fire and pummel into the fray; Dian has not chopped off the guy’s temporary HP yet, to his irritation. Max realizes he completely forgot to apply his Cleave feat, having been confused on the mechanics.

Max: How come anybody didn’t say anything after I dropped him!?
Sargassas: Because I --
DM, Ralth, and Sargassas: --know you had Cleave!
Dian: Yeah, sorry.

Sargassas lobs out some healing. He’s thrilled by this. Dian gets greataxed for 20 points of damage. Iglar continues to complain about being stuck in the grease.

Max: So these guys can be crit, right?
DM: No, they’re golems.

A silence.

Khoriane: What?!
Sargassas: They can be crit!
Max: Sorry! It’s just that EVERY TIME I get the opportunity to roll a crit, I can’t.

The DM and Sargassas get into a furious argument over whether or not he moved a mini. Max fails to confirm his crit, but nevertheless kills the warblade.

DM: Iglar’s the Dian of this fight.
Iglar: Yeah. Stand up! Up, Iglar!
Ralth: Someone get a bag of sand.
DM: Caltrops. The damage is worth it.
Ralth: Oh yeah, that’s a good idea! I got caltrops.
Iglar: Can Iglar use his Up the Walls quality to move?
DM: No, because you have to be moving to do that.
Iglar: (rolls his save)
Ralth: He’s rolled 6 for that save THREE TIMES.

Ralth scoots around for some sneak attacking, dealing 15. Dian attempts to Mighty Throw the wilder, but fails due to Elude Touch and promptly goes invisible. Iglar fails to stay upright by one point, stands up again, then falls down again. Max whacks through the wilder’s temporary HP, finally, Ralth whips out his ‘rod’ of magic missile, rolls his UMD, and puts a 4 damage missile into the wilder.

DM: Dian!
Dian: Poof. I reappear.
DM: “I knew it!”

Iglar abruptly declares he has to go home, to the gathered disgust and anger and of the players, while Dian Force Chokes the wilder.

Iglar: For the rest of the game, you guys can play Iglar.
Dian: Iglar is just stuck in that grease trap for the rest of the game…
Iglar: He’s not going to talk to anyone for the next 15 hours.
DM: He’s too embarrassed by his performance to speak to anybody.
Iglar: Yes.

Iglar departs. With the battle theirs – someone killed the wilder, I’m not sure how – they loot the bodies.

DM: And I think this is why Iglar had to leave, because I put a psionic item on the psion, and Iglar can never be here for that…
Sargassas: Just put it on his character sheet.
Ralth: No, because we’ll forget to tell him, and then he’ll be all, “hey, what the hell is this?”

The group debates whether or not to continue the game without Iglar. He took his character sheet, but the DM produces his spare copy. Onwards goes the party, finding the fork that leads to the surface and making camp.

DM: You rest the night. There are no dire animals down here to harass you.
Sargassas: Just water elementals who are testing the truce.
DM: (hovering his hand a quarter-inch from Sargassas) “I’m not touching you! I’m not touching you!” You all wake up to find water elementals looming over you… You lift your hand and contact the elementals! They interpret this as a violation of the truce, and attack.

Sargassas predicts the final battle will be next. The group continues onwards. Ralth creeps on ahead, moving silently and hiding as he does. Sargassas, in the background, gets… weird.

Sargassas: “Show us where your titties used to be, undead lady! Wooo! Woooo!” It’s just a ribcage…

Advancing ahead, Ralth spies light! He creeps forward to investigate.

Max: So… there’s been dragons, undead, water elementals, and the city of the gnomes. We came to this mountain looking for a necromancer, and instead we found dragons, undead, water elementals, and the city of the gnomes!
DM: Don’t forget there was a spider swarm in the gauth area. DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS! WOO! Now THIS is a dungeon crawl!
Ralth: Yeah, it is.
Dian: It’s like my random chamber. Yeah, there’s a hydra here, and some umber hulks… had nothing to do with your quests, but hey, so long as there’re fights!

Ralth observes some recently-lit torches in the well-lit, straight tunnel. Ralth peers ahead, creeps ahead, and at last spies massive stone doors, with two humanoid figures standing before them. Ralth finally looks at Iglar’s sheet.

DM: Good luck with that, it’s written in Iglar’s handwriting.
Ralth: Aw crap!
Dian: “Okay, Iglar is going to attack with his greataxe. That’s what he’s going to do this round, next round, and the round after. And if the combat lasts longer he will do that after this as well.”
Sargassas: No wonder he was falling, his Dex is crap!

The DM tries to drag them back to the game, leaving Dian to ponder options.

Dian: Okay, Iglar’s going to be in the front – no wait, that didn’t work so well last time. We’re all going to hide being Max. Do we have a holocaust cloak.
Max: (horrified)
Sargassas: (taking this entirely the wrong way) Wow.

At the shock on their faces, everyone else bursts into laughter.

Dian: No, no, no! No! Jesus!
Sargassas: Where’s the bingo board?!
Ralth: You don’t remember that from Princess Bride?
Sargassas: The holocaust cloak?!
Ralth: They actually call it a holocaust cloak…

It goes to hell for a while, then finally comes back. The group is fairly short on tactics for this encounter.

Dian: I guess we should find out if they’re hostile first. Which of course they are, but being a lawful good character, I have to ascertain that first…

Down the tunnel they head in force, trying to think of a way to enlarge Max to Huge size, because Large just isn’t large enough. But no one can cast that spell.

Ralth: Well, we better just pop the blue blaze potion down his throat and hope that it works.
DM: Do you want to drink the mysterious, unlabeled potion in the hopes that it MIGHT be Enlarge?
Sargassas: “I’m burning from the inside!”

Advancing to the door, they find that the two figures outside have vanished! They attempt to enter video game codes to clip through the walls, or at least gain 30 lives, but somehow this fails. Somehow the description of Glitterdust comes up.

DM: “Any creature covered by the dust takes a -40 penalty to Hide checks.”
Dian: Minus—
Sargassas: 40?!
DM: It’s hard to hide when you’re sparklin’ like a vampire.
Max: SHAME ON YOU for making a reference to that movie.
Ralth: Long-distance high-five, DM.
Max: A pox! A pox on both your houses!

Khoriane UMDs a scroll of glitterdust, but its spread reveals nothing. Ralth searches for traps, while Dian attempts every possible linguistic variation on arrowslits or murder holes he can conceive of. Max kicks open the double doors, and everyone prepares for horrible saves of doom. They don’t come.

Max: These guys are hostile, right? We are going to kill them?
Dian: That’s a safe assumption. The DM doesn’t plot out encounters full of friendly NPCs for us to make friendship with.
Max: And it turns out that this is the Guildhall. We’ve been expelled.
Dian: “Emblem! Emblem!” “You destroyed our ancient door. It was given to us by the… god of… doors.”

The DM starts drawing, then starts searching for miniatures, then injures himself tripping. Finally, he gets it all down.

DM: Stepping in, the first thing you see is, possibly to your horror – you know how Iglar looks when he’s really big? That’s pretty much what the one guy looks like. A half-giant psionically enlarged to mighty proportions. Next to him is what appears to be a sort of golem, also enlarged to might proportions. Rather than wearing armor, he appears to have armor built in, all of it plate black.
Dian: A warforged? (Price Is Right losing horns)
DM: Immediately on seeing you, one of them calls out, “Throw down your weapons and surrender!”
Sargassas: “Who do you serve?”
DM: “There is no call for negotiations! Throw down your weapons now!”
Sargassas: “I didn’t call for negotiations, I just asked who you served!”
Dian: Can’t we just turn around and walk away?
Ralth: Throw down the weapons we got from the gnomes.
Dian: Seriously, we should just turn around and leave. What are they gonna do, come out here where we can fight them?
Ralth: Yeah, we can go back to the gnome kingdom, take ‘em over, rule ‘em with an iron fist.
Sargassas: This is the evil ending, he gives us the little epilogue of what happens…

The group starts arguing over whether they’re even in the right place and if they should be fighting these people. Their foes identify them as the Black Flag mercenary company, and they also aren’t undead. Initiative order is determine, and then an elf promptly darts forward and shoots Max with an arrow. Khoriane returns fire with an eldritch blast, and Dian Force Chokes! (But she passes the save.)

Sargassas: It’s the DM, he rolls good. Most of the time.

The warforged strikes with his glaive, and the elf gets some healing from this blow. Ralth skirts outside the reach of the two creatures, and manages to see past them.

Sargassas: And what you see horrifies you: a warforge-making factory!
Dian: That’s run by a cat demon!
DM: And what you see horrifies you! (plopping down three more minis)
Ralth: This encounter’s gonna suck.
Dian: Going to? It’s already there.

The male sorcerer moves forward and casts Scorching Ray on Ralth. Sargassas casts mass aid. The guy in armor heals the elf.

Sargassas: I think we should stop.
Dian: Stop – what, run away?
Sargassas: We’re fighting ourselves! Except we have—
Dian: Except they have fuck – you’re right. We are. Wait, which one of them is me? There’s no me there.
DM: Now the Ralth annihilation. He roars out, “Surrender!” and then tries to make the point with his greataxe.
Dian: We’re gonna have to give up. Either that or they’re gonna – no, let’s make him fucking kill us. He wants to do it so bad, let’s make him do it. I’m not surrendering. See, then he’s gonna have you break us out of the cell in this place, and then… Destroy the Death Star. Into the garbage chute, Sargassas! I don’t care what you smell!
Ralth: I’ll take out the tractor beams.
DM: He deals 13 points of damage to you, Ralth.

Suddenly, the DM demands a Will save from everyone – which everyone passes, although Sargassas attempts to hurl Iglar’s character sheet across the room in fury. The Glitterdust blinds no one.

Dian: So they turned US into vampires when we tried to turn them into vampires.
Max: Enough with the crappy movie reference!

The elf moves back, then skirmishes Ralth; a flurry of blows are exchanged left and right, most to very little effect. Somewhere, the warforged gets an AOO.

DM: Let’s see… he hits you indeed.
Sargassas: Once again, no dice is rolled!
Dian: Don’t pretend to make the roll! I told you, just give me the damage!
DM: I just rolled!
Sargassas: No you did not! You didn’t roll shit!
Dian: Spare me this mockery of justice!

The DM furiously hurls an orange die onto the table; it promptly bounces and lands natural-1 up before Sargassas steals it. Dian crits – I think the warforged – with a Strength-Draining Strike, dealing 4 points of Strength damage post-save. Max hammers the warforged, and the warforged promptly uses a strike to heal itself.

Max: So wait a minute, so all the damage I did to it—
DM: I said MANY of the injuries.
Max: Oh, I heard ‘all.’
Sargassas: He must have got a good heal off.
Max: Seriously…
Dian: Don’t die. He wants very badly to pound us into submission and then move us to the dungeon encounter.
DM: (laughing hilariously)
Dian: Well, DON’T YOU?! You put us up against something that we’d have to pull a miracle monkey out of our ass to clear, and then we’d be in no shape to actually go into the fortress and do anything. We’re gonna end up in the dungeon regardless. I’m not gonna give you the satisfaction, though. I’m gonna make you kill my character. You’ve done it before, you might as well be 2 for 2.
Ralth: 24 to get these guys in the back with a thunderstone.

Max takes a -8 strength penalty from a Ray of Enfeeblement from a deafened sorcerer. Sargassas threatens to throw dice at the DM’s laptop until it breaks. More blows are exchanged.

DM: Max, make a Will saving throw.
Dian: He’s going to turn on us.
Sargassas: Oh my god. Do not fail it. He’s using… uh… Enfeeble. The mind version.
DM: The cleric raises his hand and speaks a word of command. “Drop.” Instantly your weapon clatters from your hand as you are forced to obey him.

Khoriane takes 29 points of damage from a greataxe blow, then gets skirmished by the scout and drops. Dian steps up and deals 14 points of damage to the warforged, who strikes Max with an AOO as he picks up his weapon… but fails to crit thanks to its strength damage! Attacks are exchanged across the board. It isn’t terribly interesting, but a lot of damage is being done.

DM: Ralth, it is your turn.
Sargassas: Move out of the way so I can HEAL HER! That is what I need you to do!
Ralth: I’m gonna Tumble past Sargassas…

The table gets awkwardly silent as they appraise how much raw damage they’ve dealt to the warforged, who is still standing and functional.

Dian: What I don’t get is how being in a jail cell, avoiding this encounter, gonna help us later when we have to fight them anyway?
Max: Who says we’re going to a jail cell? This asshole -- (meaning the DM) -- no offense, but this asshole might just player-wipe us.
Sargassas: I’m calling him an asshole! This battle is unwinnable!
Max: DM, just go ahead and stop and be like HA HA, first player wipe!
Sargassas: He could have done it many times. This is literally impossible for us to win without a decent wizard.
Dian: We’ve wiped before, haven’t we? I wanna go back to my monk build just so the battle will be over faster.
Sargassas: We have no high damage-dealer. Our high damage-dealers are our warriors and they’re out the game. Except for [Khoriane] and she’s down. There is NOTHING we can do. Unless that warforged is literally on death’s door.

The cleric steps forward and casts a spell. Max sees Dian and the warforged swap places – but no one else does! Sargassas identifies the spell and is able to warn Max that it’s an illusion. The DM rolls dice.

Max: I don’t like the sound of all those dice.
DM: Oh, now you complain that there’re dice! I don’t roll dice, and you’re like, “Oh you’re cheating!” I do roll dice—
Ralth: Oh look, he’s admitting he’s not rolling dice! Poor wording, DM. Poor wording.
Sargassas: On record! On record. “DM admits…!” Caught in the trap!

The psychic warrior whacks Max for 43 points of damage. The DM calls for another Will save, and then Max and Iglar both go blind from Glitterdust. The room goes deathly silent.

Ralth: “Aaah! Vampires!”
Sargassas: How many hit points do you have left?!
Max: One.

Khoriane blasts down the archer, and Dian punches the warforged for 20. It’s still up.

Dian: A robot crusader.
Ralth: Hey, at least it’s not his trip build. How annoyed would we be right now?
Dian: I’m just saying, robot crusader is really toeing the line with vampire monk, for me. They oughtta hold hands and skip around the fucking dungeon.

Iglar whacks and… does nothing. The group starts to openly descend into madness.

Sargassas: Throw one of the unknown potions we have at that guy. Praise be God, it could be something that explodes.
Max: It’s a potion of Enlarge, he now becomes Huge.

Max eats a magic missile from one of the sorcerers, and Sargassas burst-heals. The enemy cleric stabilizes the archer. Somewhere in all of this, the warforged is finally taken below 0; it lurches backwards, then collapses when its delayed damage pool empties.

Sargassas: Really?! Really?! Minor wounds!?
Dian: Well, he has to keep her alive, so after we’re in the dungeon, he can heal her back to full, when we’re nice and locked up…
DM: The warrior attempts to strike Max, but actually misses…
Dian: Make your AOO as I fly by… How much damage do I take?
DM: Oh, what was your armor class..
Sargassas: One more than he can hit.
DM: Yeah, actually. Well, one more than he can confirm.

Eating 17, Dian punches a sorcerer and rolls as low a damage as possible – which still drops the woman. Iglar delivers a powerful miss. One of the wizards, I think, casts Obscuring Mist to stop eating damage, and then Sargassas eats an AOO for the move through a threatened area…

DM: You take 49 points of damage from his greatsword.
Khoriane: Oh Jesus.
Sargassas: From what!?
DM: His crit.
Sargassas: He crit with my AC of 25?!
DM: A natural 20 will do that.
Sargassas: Never mind. I’m done. …I’m not dead, I’m just done playing this fucking game. If he can crit for 49 against my AC there’s kinda no point. I roll 20s once in a blue moon and you’re back there rolling 20s every other fucking hit.
Khoriane: I’ve been doing that too…
Sargassas: I don’t get that. 18 for you. I don’t get that many crits. So it just seems like a little fucking crazy that this guy crit three times thus far.
Max: I’ve never crit…
DM: This die. For some reason tonight—
Sargassas: Then stop using it! It’s fucking bullshit when I get knocked out for all my fucking hit points. From the same fucking guy. If you wanna kill us just have everyone crit, constantly. Because that’s what seems like it’s happening now.

A horrific silence.

Sargassas: At least you didn’t get crit – oh no! You’ll get crit next turn! You’re probably dead. Just knock your character over. There’s no point in having a high AC.

Another silence.

DM: From the cloud, the warrior bellows, “Surrender now! This is your last chance!”
Sargassas: Did you roll his miss chance at least?
DM: Yes. He rolled a 71.
Sargassas: THEN JUST FUCKING KILL US, ALL RIGHT?
DM: … All right, I’m done for the night.

End recording.