DM: Let’s see where the story goes. So you only recently left the dungeon, it’s getting pretty late. Time to set up camp. The druid, feeling somewhat safe in the woods he created, instantly goes to sleep, with no worries of things like watches. But our noble heroes know of such things, don’t they?
Skalturin: He doesn’t have any ranks in Knowledge(nature), so he’s never heard of wolves before.
Dirzeari: Never mind that his pet is a wolf…

The PCs whose players are actually present at the game set up a watch order. Skalturin is first, and the DM quickly calls for rolls.

DM: Give me a Spot, followed by a Listen check. Followed by a bowel movement.
Skalturin: Spot… 27. Listen… 18. Bowel movement… 22.
DM: Your pants are full.
Skalturin: I assume that runs off Concentration.
DM: You’re able to hold it in successfully.
Skalturin: If not, Swim, 23…
DM: 20 bonus exp!

He sees, but doesn’t hear, rustling and quick movement around the camp. It’s very dark out, so he dumps essentia into his Basilisk Mask to get 30’ darkvision. He obligingly lobs a rock near what’s moving. What looks like a squirrel runs up a tree! Gorbul, up next, rolls his own checks and becomes increasingly suspicious in turn. His observations reveal something non-squirrely running around out there as well.

Gorbul: “Should I blast it? Kill this, and a rogue squirrel later?”
Skalturin: “Seems harmless enough thus far.”
Gorbul: “Then we shall see.”
DM: The night presses on…

Mikas, warned by Gorbul, rolls her own Spot and Listen checks. Ambitiously, she attempts rolls to sneakily advance forward.

Mikas: Move Silently 25, and Hide 16. I move quietly with a torch over my head.
Mikas: Another Spot check.
Skalturin: Roll a 1. (miming stabbing himself in the eye with a torch)

Mikas does sneak forward… and the creature promptly grapples her face. She struggles with the thing… and promptly rolls a 1.

DM: Everyone else give me Listen checks. Can you hear the plight of your friend?
Skalturin: If you’re asleep, it’s a -10 penalty…

…No one hears. A few people stir slightly and grumblingly go back to sleep.

Skalturin: Bash yourself in the face, dude, it’s the only way.
Gorbul: Headbutt a tree.
Skalturin: Run 10 feet, then stab your throat.
Gorbul: (bursting into laughter)
Skalturin: So she gets the skirmish bonus, Gorbul!
DM: Yes, you get a turn. It has latched on tight. What’re you going to? It’s got a grip on you. It’s mating with your face. You feel something slapping against your mouth.
Mikas: All right… let me think.
Skalturin: You spend your time thinking!
Ljerka: “Mmm, do I like this, or do I not?”

Mikas runs blindly back to camp, trying to punch the creature off as she does. Despite the skirmish bonus, the creature survives, and despite a 21 on her Strength check to keep her lips closed, the creature rolls a natural 20 to beat her.

Mikas: It critted my face.
Skalturin: Technically, it’s about to crit your throat.
DM: You, maybe it was luck, or not, as you run barreling, crashing through Scar’s tent…
Gorbul: I wonder who Scar is.
Skalturin: (Scar impression) “Why are you bothering me.” The hyenas set upon him.
DM: You look over. She’s squirming around, trying to peel it off, but she seems almost stopped. Almost no movement. You see that horrifying vision—
Skalturin: I slashed it back when you said. “You look over…”

Skalturin rolls crap damage with a spine, but 6 damage is enough to shred it. It shrivels up.

Mikas: I am going to shove my fingers down my throat and make myself—
Skalturin: NOT IN MY TENT! I point her outside!
Gorbul: And I, fast asleep… “I told you so…”
DM: Attempting to vomit, you feel a little better. You feel as if something came out, you’re not quite sure. But you feel better now, having thrown up. You feel a little better about yourself.
Ljerka: “I’m getting thinner!”

Nevertheless, they wake up Dirzeari to get a Heal check out of her. The DM openly gloats that they have no idea what’s happening in-character, and EXACTLY what it is out of character. The DM and Skalturin start debating over the lethality of powdered glass. Dirzeari grimly prepares to treat her more tomorrow.

Skalturin: “How long will it take to prepare the skills to heal her?” “One minute more than she has to live.”

With someone’s Knowledge roll, they determine they should be going to a nearby town in the hope of getting help. Tasha begins talking in a strained, raspy voice. Morning dawns, with the accompaniment of morning music. The DM describes that the druidic arts are recently discovered, which is why all druids are apparently bumbling incompetents and are loading the land up with trees that aren’t geopgraphically appropriate. Memory tells them they’re headed for an ancient magic city.

DM: As you approach to where this great city should be, you see at first what looks like great walls. But as you get closer these great walls are no longer so great. They’re ruined walls, covered in dense moss, overgrown, their tops crushed and crumbled to the grounds below. These walls, now that you’re close enough to see it, only go up about six feet.
Skalturin: …I don’t know HOW we mistook these for great walls.
DM: Maybe the memory overlaid over your sight, a memory of this great city.
Gorbul: (gaping) “Duuuuuuhhhhhhh.”
DM: Passing through one of the holes in this wall, you see ahead of you what looks like a small village. Ruins of cities, overgrown with moss, and the fields around it where people have hollowed out crops and so forth. A small river providing water.
Skalturin: “You know… if we were really put to sleep after thwarting a great evil… you get the feeling that maybe we didn’t do such a great job of it after all?”
Gorbul: “It’s beginning to feel like that.”
DM: Upon approaching the town—
Skalturin: There are signs on the walls, like a big NO symbol over a guy with a facehugger. It’s not that they HATE people who’ve had alien wing-wong down their throats, it’s that they SHAME them. They’re shamed as sluts. “You should save it for xenomarriage.” “Why don’t you wear your Purity Ring +4?” “If it came, you’re to blame.”
Ljerka: Oh my god.

People take note of the adventuring sort as they trudge in. The PCs take a shot at the messenger warding rings and dwarves which topple over them.

DM: (thick accent) “Ah! Where’d y’all from? Odd ta see people comin’ in from the South!”
Gorbul: “I’m actually not sure from where we came.”
Skalturin: “The past. The ancient past.”
Mikas: “Medic.”
Gorbul: “Quiet Mikas, we’re talking.”
Skalturin: “It’s a long story. We haven’t time to talk, we’re seeking an old man who might have advice on treatment for our friend here.”
DM: “Back to what you said… warriors from the past?”
Skalturin: “Right, and back to what we said about no time, need heal for friend…”
DM: “Small creature, jumped on his face?”
Skalturin: “A little bit, yes.”
DM: “We get that here a lot, actually.”
Skalturin: “Well, we’d like to do something about that.”
DM: “Well we usually lock them up in the pen and wait for the wee creature to jump out of their chest, then we kill the wee creature.”
Skalturin: “…we’d like a version that has Mikas live.”
DM: “We sometimes have the healer stay with the guy till the creature hops out, and heal him. It sometimes works.”
Skalturin: “…we’d like a way that’s a little more guaranteed.”
DM: “There was a guy who said he could kinda get it out with knives, but once again it requires the healer nearby…”
Skalturin: “That sounds a little bit better, and once again it’s back to looking for the old guy who could help our friend, as we mentioned at the beginning…” …Was I an elven king in the past?
DM: “Well I dunno about an old guy, but there’s a young guy. As in oddly young. He was young when my father was young. And his father. We don’t know, we kinda played it off—“
Gorbul: “I am centuries old. Please lead us to him.”
DM: “Okay!”
Skalturin: My thought would be, okay, you guys go find this guy, I’ll keep this guy distracted…

They head in! The town is peaceful, unarmed, and gratuitously staring. Gorbul has a strange sense of magical energy lingering about. The guy continues to babble…

DM: “You know, my father spoke of another set of past people that came. And there was another town, they spoke of past people. I wonder why there’s so many people from the past.”
Skalturin: Apparently we’re all incompetent.
Mikas: Don’t care, need healer!
DM: Walking up to the door, giving a hefty knock. “Ah yes, I will be in the door in but a moment! Ah, visitor! I haven’t had any non-village people come by in a while. Actually, the villagers avoid me too. I guess it’s king of worrisome when you have a guy who’s 500 years old but looks like he’s ten. Or maybe I’m 20. I dunno, I’m kinda short.”
Skalturin: “There’s something in the water here.”
DM: “Oh no, no, no. I drinks the waters, I makes the waters, and the water makes me this way.”
Skalturin: “Explain this man, then. He’s just as bad, just… less erudite.”
DM: “Oh, that’s because I let some of the water into the water.”
Skalturin: “I was right. Okay, no one drink the water.”
Gorbul: I pass you five gold.
Skalturin: I have an Intelligence of 16 and a Charisma of 10.
DM: “Oh, but it doesn’t matter, I have to stay. I have to stay, because I’m the one who knows, I’m the one who remembers.”
Gorbul: “Heal.”
DM: “Ha ha, that’s neat! You have one of the things inside you? Why did you not push it off your face, like I do? I push it off my face, it goes away.”
Mikas: “It startled me. Heal. Now. Please. Now.”
DM: “Oh, healing, you want healing now, that’s interesting. Hold on, I’ll go get it.”
Skalturin: It’s an eggbeater on a flexible tube.
DM: “Ah, see, this is Julie, my favorite friend.” It’s what looks like a small, almost undersized rat. It has some strange metal bits, almost a sleek, steely look to it, but at the same time it almost seems lifelike. “This little pretty gonna’s get the little pretty—“
Skalturin: “Gorbul, there’s a thing outside I wanted to see, let’s go investigate while they handle this matter.”
Gorbul: “Sounds great. Thank you.”

The two run like hell, refusing to see this. Mikas begs for unconsciousness as the NPCs describes how the rat will go down her throat.

Skalturin: I’m sorry, I failed my saving throw versus the willies.
DM: “See, all you have to do is swallow little Julie here, and she’s gonna go down there and get the thing and then come right back out. But it can’t go out the same way it came, it has to go out the other passage…”

Mikas begs for another option, but the other ones were the ‘burst out’ options, and this is the only one guaranteed for her to survive. Gorbul and Skalturin are practically in another country by this point. The DM waxes graphic until Dirzeari starts mercifully clubbing Mikas unconscious… then continues to wax graphic.

Dirzeari: What IS your armor class?
Mikas: 19.
Dirzeari: I just got an 18 to whack you on the head.
Mikas: Agh, she missed, I’m still not unconscious.
Skalturin: Dude, are you applying your Dexterity?
Mikas: Yeah.
Skalturin: Cut that out! Stop dodging!
Mikas: It wasn’t my intent to have to get knocked out by my own team.
Skalturin: We’re outside, in the background we hear this horrible strangled wailing, followed by ‘clonk’ as she’s frantically beating Mikas…
Gorbul: “Let’s go check out the walls.”

Mikas ends up sobbing on the toilet while the NPC stares in anticipation of the emergence. The DM describes this as slightly creepy, leading others to question his word choice. Desperate to avoid this, Skalturin and Gorbul voluntarily speak to townsfolk. They talk a lot about past people!

Skalturin: “When was the last time you saw some of these past people?”
DM: “Oh, past people. My father spoke of them when I was very young, I don’t really remember them.”
Skalturin: “Does anyone have a living father in this town?!”
DM: “Oh, he’s over there, he’s –“

Gorbul and Skalturin take off at top speed to get out of this conversation, failing to hear the local’s warning. They approach the indicated house, roll Spot checks, and Gorbul sees this is a stone building… with barred window, and symbols of crosses for healing.

DM: “You guys ran off before I could tell you, that’s the place where the crazy guys go.”
Skalturin: “Are they all crazy?”
DM: “There’s a few you can kind of make out words that you can understand, but there’s not like—“
Skalturin: “Are there any SANE fathers left?”
Gorbul: “That are still alive?”
Skalturin: “…at this point I’d settle for a talkative undead.”
DM: “Yes! Yes! The guy who runs the place!”
Gorbul: “…Crap, we still have to go in there.”
Skalturin: “Are we SURE he’s the guy who runs the place?”
DM: “He’s like the most… easiest to work with.”

Gorbul and Skalturin share a long, uneasy look and try to find some other answers. It just get worse…

DM: “Did you talk to the guy at the end, did he let the water go in the water again? Because I feel kind of itchy.”
Skalturin: “I’m… not comfortable answering that until I figure out how much of this is a metaphor for urination.”
DM: “Okay…”

Skalturin openly and overtly attempts to find Ljerka, but fails. They approach the sanitarium, shielding their ears from the constant stream of meaningless babble spewing from its walls. As they dread their approach, a man calls out to them.

DM: “Hey, why you all standing outside like that? Y’all need to see one of the dads or something?”
Gorbul: “Are you one of these dads?”
DM: “I had a kid once… I don’t know where he –“
Gorbul: “Tell us about these past people, please!”

The NPCS tells them they came from more distant ruins 20 years ago to get treatment for a facehugged friend. Strangely, one of them claimed to be a baker, not an adventurer!

Skalturin: Was it a cat-person?! Damn you, Drusila – oh god, we’re in the world of nothing but Drusila’s player’s characters. I understand now.

The story sounds ominously similar to the current crop of PCs. The NPC tells them that the source of the river infection is actually from an upstream building, not the weird guy, full of big green tanks that spill into the water. Obligingly, the players offer to solve this problem in thanks for their information.

Skalturin: “Let us… stall for a few hours, then fetch the others…”
DM: “Wait, wait. Before you go, if you plan on taking on this task, hold on. Let me find something.” He goes back inside and comes out with a small case. “Here. Take these.”
Skalturin: Radiation shields!
DM: “These should from what I understand, reading the manual that came with them, neutralize the green.”

The NPC spins a story of a technological society, which Skalturin overtly compares to the second Birthright campaign to the DM’s mild irritation. The NPC scoffs at magic.

Skalturin: “You’re surely not skeptical of all forces supernatural."
DM: “Well, I…”
Skalturin: “I HAVE FOUR FUCKING ARMS, DUDE!”
DM: “You haven’t met the guy over there.” You look over there, there’s some crazy guy scratching his head, scratching his chest, and scratching his butt, because he has three arms, one out of his back, one out of his chest, and one out of his head. “That HAPPENS after a while.”
Gorbul: “I changed my mind, I’m not going anywhere near the water.”

The DM describes the horrible mutations inflicted upon these fathers by the water. The PCs grimly return to the rat-house, vowing to sit outside with their eyes closed and their ears plugged. A traumatized Tasha emerges, following by the NPC babbling about how much he enjoys spending time at the House of the Fathers. Skalturin looks grimly to Gorbul.

Skalturin: Why is it I think the most merciful thing you could do is start breathing and not stop until there’s nothing left? Maybe this is what we’ve been called to do. To purge the world at the end of this days. We are the sweet merciful death granted to the last pathetic dregs of humanity!

They take out of town at top speed, as the DM paints the picture of the world, with its dying rivers and buildings, some crumbling, some not… along with what is apparently a nuclear reactor that is their destination.

Salturin: You know I think I’ve figured this out. One day the DM just accidentally installed Fallout 3 and Skyrim in the same directory, and this is what happened.

The group bemoans not knowing what creatures or foes they will face up here, but universally agree that it wasn’t worth the effort it would have taken to find out. Listen checks are called for!

DM: Out of nowhere, you didn’t hear anybody moving, you didn’t hear any footsteps as you watched the place, but out of nowhere you hear the words, “Y’all shouldn’t be near this place.” Who’s at the back of the group?

Everyone points to Ljerka.

Skalturin: She just showed up and we didn’t realize it.
DM: No, she’s not here yet! Whoever’s in the back feels an odd breath on the back of the neck. “Y’all shouldn’t be here.” Looking behind you, you see the most messed-up, ugly person you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You thought based on your human anatomy, that this might have one point been a human. Nope. This guy has no skin. What’s left is a more leathery abomination of what might have been flesh and skin at one point. Oddly enough he has pointy ears. Or what used to be ears, you’re not positive any more.
Gorbul: Lumps of goo.

The NPC explains that Ljerka ran for the reactor after getting scared of his face. He demands to know why anyone would be scared of his face; the PCs produce a mirror, but he shrugs this off. They explain their purpose to this horrible monster, and he offers to help them, mostly by warning them of dangers within the building. Attention briefly turns to Ljerka, whose holy paladin powers are actually repelling nuclear waste and the mutants it creates! …outside, the helpful mutant babbles at the PCs, who refuse to answer. They begin sneaking into the building, heading for a large hole in the side of the building, while inside creatures move around pools and rivers of green goo.

DM: “Hey, that’s that lady – that’s that lady I was talking about. Oh that’s right, I said to be quiet, I should probably do that too. Oh it doesn’t matter. She’s up there. I can see her now. That lady. That came in. Hey look, the creatures heard me! They’re coming this way. Oh, I probably should’ve said that. I’m ruining it for you guys, aren’t I. Perhaps you shouldn’t have brought me along.”
Gorbul: “I’m gonna rearrange your face so it looks normal again!”
DM: “But I’m so pretty!”
Skalturin: “That’s why it’s a threat.”

Initiative! Dirzeari plans to fire off a Searing Ray, but fear of expending all her spells too soon changes her mind. Instead she summons a monster. Mikas fires a skirmish shot at one of the glowing foes – one that had retreated.

Mikas: It’s funny, he’s the only one that’s actually helping us. He’s trying to warn us not to go farther.
Ljerka: Wait, he was?
Mikas: I hope he’s not, ‘cuz I just shot him.

More creatures burst from the evil green river. Ljerka uses Charging Minotaur to slam into one of the creatures, while her holy crusader nature seems to be sizzling it. Skalturin charges forward, avoiding an AOO as he does, and unloads six attacks on it, five of which hit.

Skalturin: So the spine does – oh! Oh, snake eyes.
Mikas: Wooooooow, he rolled nipples.
Skalturin: It still does 22 damage.
DM: Two points of… I want to say, I guess it would be equivalent to energy damage, there’s no real type to it, just energy damage. It doesn’t work like the usual acid you’re used to, it almost burns with a heat.
Skalturin: My tail, which is bludgeoning, does 16 points of damage to it.
DM: No splashing this time.
Skalturin: Claw… (muttering math) 12 points of damage from the first claw—
DM: “Oh ya know what, I forgot to say, you don’t want to kill them ‘cuz they just pop!” As if to say it almost too late, the one in front of you seems to just burst. Give me a Strength check.
Skalturin: 22.
DM: You’re able to resist this, you’re staggered but not thrown back. You’re covered in a weird green goo. It does not make you feel well at all. You want it off you it. The more it’s on you, the more iller the effect. Give me a Fortitude.
Skalturin: 18.
DM: You’re able to resist the drain, it’s almost like your energy or your life force is being pulled into the substance, but you’re able to resist it. You’re willing yourself, but it’s going to take a bit to kind of push it off. You know you’re going to need to.
Skalturin: This is gonna suck.

The splash catches some other people in the mild explosion. Even the NPC urges them to clean up… vocally.

Skalturin: “…how does he get so many words in one initiative phase?”
DM: “The strange man in the sky has given me unlimited turns because I don’t do any combat, I’m just here to annoy you.”

Gorbul breathes lightning! As her celestial fire beetle seems to repel the green goo as well, Dirzeari whips out her holy symbol to turn!

Gorbul: It’d be terrible if they all just exploded into good.
Mikas: “First, I get facef—cked by some weird tree creature and now I’m gonna get splattered with the innards of some goo monster? WHAT A TERRIBLE DAY!”

The positive energy blasts clean the PCs who were gooed, as well as some of the creatures! One of them just plain bursts. Mikas fires into one of them, another gets AOOs from all as it flees, but Mikas eats some pain from one who charges her. Ljerka annihilates one with a Mountain Hammer, and a suspicious Skalturin leaps over the river of sludge in search of hiding foes or the like, followed by some of the others.

DM: “Stay back! Stay! I’m not like them! My head hurts… stay!” You see the one in back that you shot with the arrow kind of cringing behind the barrels. “I hide here. Easy things… they no hurt me. The villagers, the other ones, they’re scared.” “Hey! Don’t lie! You just yell at me. I don’t like it. So I hit you.” “I don’t like to be hit!” “I like hitting you.”

Gorbul starts to burn the barrels; Skalturin hastily reminds him about the neutralizers, which he admits might be a better idea. They open it up and read the instructions!

DM: You’re able to read the instructions, it’s… I’m not sure what the term is for a language that’s changed over time, but it’s very similar to Basic.
Skalturin: Basic. “10: PLACE IN RIVER. 20: GOTO 10.”

They toss in the neutralizers according to the instructions; Skalturin greets and interrogates Ljerka as to her purpose. Ljerka’s aura burns off the goo of the friendly monster, but he doesn’t mind. LOOT APPEARS!

DM: “Maybe you guys should go back to town and collect a reward!” And you guys are all, “I don’t know, I’d have to deal with those people again.”
Skalturin: “We’ve already been paid in advance. In fact, this is our rendering for services done.”
DM: “Well if you’re not going there again, there’s a larger village that doesn’t feed off this river. I hear they’re… NORMALS.”

Search checks are called for! The DM describes moderny stuff in terms suitable to a fantasy kingdom, mostly for his own amusement. Faced with the choice of eating food grown with the water, or starving, the party tightens their belts. Abruptly, Alfred Hitchcock music blares across the table.

Skalturin: …I’m sorry.
DM: A strange fat creature approaches. A shadowy outline appears before him. “Good evening. I see you are warriors from the past. Would you like to see a movie?”
Skalturin: “Oh crap, birds.”

They travel on through the absurdly-quiet wilds, discovering the road beneath their feet is both paved, and slowly increasing in quality the closer they get to the city. As they approach, they see the city is weird and ominous – a modern city, in other words, which breaks their feeble brains! A small little hut appears to be the logical approach.

Gorbul: “Visiting hours are…”
DM: “Whoa! We haven’t seen any people come from the south in a while.”
Skalturin: “We hear that a lot.”
DM: “There’s a small village out there, we heard, but—“
Skalturin: “We’re not from there.”
DM: “Good. We don’t let them in.”
Skalturin: “We’re not from there, and your policy is wise.”
Gorbul: That’s like instant success on a fucking Diplomacy roll.
Skalturin: I don’t have Diplomacy, I’m just being goddamn truthful.
Mikas: “You don’t have any of those face-fucking demons around here, do you?”
DM: “I’ve heard rumors of those, people foolish enough to explore down there, but they don’t come back…”
Mikas: “Okay, good. We’ll leave it at that. It’s an experience I don’t want to remember.”
DM: “Listen, if you’ve been over to the old reactor, we’ll need you to take a cleaning, before you head into the city.”
Skalturin: “Clarify your terms.”
DM: “Clarify my terms?”
Mikas: “What’s a reactor?”
DM: “You want some more information?”
Skalturin: “Yes. You see, we are from the distant past. As is apparently common.”
DM: “I wouldn’t say common. I mean, there’s a few others who claim that too—“
Skalturin: “How often would you EXPECT people to claim that?”
DM: “Once every 20 years or so, as is my understanding.”
Skalturin: “…I’m not feeling happy. I must confess this.”

The guards mention that one group went into a temple that is generally forbidden (and briefly explain radioactivity in generic terms).

DM: “If you’ve picked up any of the poison energy, this’ll wash it off and prevent any long-lasting effects. While you might feel good right now, any of the substance that’s still on you could have long-lasting effects. And you’ll be like that village 40 miles down that way.”
Dirzeari: “My holy symbol banished it…”
Skalturin: “He makes a very convincing argument.”
Gorbul: “Fine, let’s disrobe.”
DM: “Whoa, hold on a sec, pull that thing out again. I haven’t seen one of those in a while. Ever since the doctors came around, priests and healers kinda vanished.”
Skalturin: I like that. Gorbul takes off his pants, and he’s like, “Wow, pull that thing out again!”
Gorbul: Yeah, I wasn’t gonna say anything…

They enter in and promptly discover automobiles, which everybody makes fun of in the conventional matter. A guard waves them over, and Ljerka desperately tries to get them to go get cleaned and stop thinking too much about the many foreign terms being thrown their way. Mikas flips a table. Where it came from, no one knows. The guards plan to creepily watch them in the cleaning shower. Skalturin goes first, tossing his belongings onto a rack.

DM: You are splashed with intensely hot water. Not hot enough to burn you alive, it’s still enough to give you a nice singe.
Skalturin: Oh, if only I had a sense of humor, since they can’t see me. “Aaah! Aaah! Oh god! Aaaaugh!”
DM: After a few minutes it’s over, and you get sprayed with another weird mist, and yet another, and a fog one, and then are blow-dryed by—
Gorbul: Five guys.
DM: You find yourself very clean. Too clean. To the side you see all your belongings, now out, very clean. Cleaner than it’s ever been before.

As the irritated party goes through the cleaning, Skalturin demands to punch something to work up a sweat and stop being so clean, but he ends up running in place.

Skalturin: There’s clean, and then there’s…
Mikas: Zest-fully clean.

They try to head out into the city and immediately become a spectacle of shock and ridicule thanks to their obviously ancient garb.

Mikas: (infinitely weary) “Suggestion: we stop and buy new clothes.”
Skalturin: “Why?”
Mikas: “So we don’t draw as much attention to ourselves.”
Skalturin: “I’ve got four. ARMS.”
Mikas: “You can wrap them around yourself and throw an overcloak over it.”
Skalturin: “But cloaks are out of vogue!”

It’s clear that the passage of time has gone a long way to normalizing the races towards a human standard. Ljerka desperately attempts to stop the PCs from walking in front of cars (or grappling them). They enter the library and are promptly loud, to the dwarf’s despair. Skalturin grimly points out that he’s not literate.

Mikas: (infinitely weary) “Why don’t you go wrestle a car and we’ll go hang out in the library.”
Gorbul: Wow. Apparently Mikas has lost the will to live.
Mikas: No, Mikas has is just very like, “I don’t care.”
Skalturin: She’s been through too much.
Mikas: After shitting out a metal rat…
DM: As you enter, you’re greeted by a young lady nearby. “Welcome to the library. Are you looking for anything in particular – those clothes! Are you just people dressed up…?”
Skalturin: “No, we are from the past.” Is she wearing a nametag?
DM: It just says “Judy”.
Skalturin: “Judy, may I know your title so I may properly address you?”
DM: “I… guess I’m… a librarian?”
Skalturin: “Well then, Librarian Judy, allow us to explain. We are warriors from the past… as we understand is common around here…”
DM: “Every twenty years—“
Skalturin: “Every twenty years or so, warriors from the past emerge, and we are the latest batch. We have come from the south, where a city of inbred degenerates holds sway over the lands. Having cleansed this ‘reacting’, we have ventured forth to learn more about this land in which we’ve found ourselves. After undergoing your hideous cleaning procedures, we have been informed that this is the proper location for us to continue our research. Therefore, we ask your aid, Librarian Judy!”
DM: “I think you’d be better off with one of the historians, they’re a little older and they were here the last time the past people came.”
Ljerka: “I’ll bring them over. They’re just a little…”
Skalturin: “We’re right HERE, we can hear every word you’re saying.”
DM: “If you head over to the back, there’s usually one back there.”
Gorbul: “Thank you, Librarian Judy.” I stride off.
Skalturin: …he’s stealing my shtick!

They head into the back, and meet with a historian! Skalturin inquires about his nametag – it’s Matthias.

Skalturin and Dirzeari: “Historian Matthias.”
Skalturin: (incredulous) Now SHE’S stealing my shtick!
DM: “It seems odd that someone threw I’m a historian in there, but that kinds works…”
Skalturin: “Isn’t that your proper title?”
DM: “It kinda works…”
Mikas: “Then you are a historian, let’s move on.”
Skalturin: “Historian Matthias, we greet you. We are warriors from the past, as we understand is common around here. Every twenty years or so…”

The historian explains that they’re the fourth group, and then mentions that the hell portal Skalturin had discovered had given some of the previous groups information and instructions!

Mikas: “Did they tell you or write it down?”
DM: “You seem sleepy, should you take a nap?”
Mikas: “Answer the –ing question.”
DM: “All right, um…”

The historian goes on to describe a lab covered by radiation so thick that people can’t even approach it, but there’s a secret entrance in the back that’s safe to go through.

Skalturin: (bursting into laughter) Right out of Fallout. I’m sorry, you just broke my suspension of disbelief something fierce, it’s gonna take me a moment… (burying his face in his hands and laughing)

The NPC continues to talk about the vault where the past people go. Skalturin attempts to rejoin the game, fails, and goes back to laughing. They bring up the enchanted books they found in the ruins, and the historian tells them that apparently the hell portal and the books are at odds! They produce their books for the historian to appraise!

DM: “Hmph. Oh! This isn’t a book at all!”
Skalturin: “It’s a sandwich! You guys are fucking idiots!”

Turns out it’s a book-shaped Kindle, basically. The PCs universally agree this is stupid. The historian rigs the “bindle” to functionality.

DM: A small, almost ethereal figure appears.
Gorbul: “Help me, Obi-Won Kenobi, you’re my only hope.”

The book complains bitterly about adventurers who believed the hell-gate and threw the book away. It also reveals that it had transported them to this time, not put them to sleep!

Mikas: “Why should we listen to you? You snatched us from our time.”
Skalturin: “And lied to us about it.”
Mikas: “I shat a metal rat because of you.”
DM: “I didn’t say go get yourself hit!”
Skalturin: “You did say we had been voluntarily put to sleep, not brought here from our own time.”
DM: “I just wanted to make sure you understood that I did ask you. I did kind of shift the story around…” …GMwise, because I fucking forgot…

The book explains that they need to complete a task here, and then be sent back into the past to prevent a ‘schism’. The group is faintly incredulous about all this. Skalturin plays the Samurai Jack theme in the background. The book wants them to disable a nuclear weapon or the like that the hell-portal wanted to get the other groups to detonate! Matthais verifies some of the logistics, and Skalturin slaps the book shut.

Skalturin: “It seems that we can provisionally trust the book’s words. I certainly like the idea of trusting a book more than I like trusting a hell-gate… although I find it odd that I would say either one of this things. Very well, let us continue to speak to it.” (miming opening the book)
DM: “Well that was quite rude. You slammed the book right on me.”
Skalturin: “It was necessary.”
DM: “I guess. You do realize that I was in fact still on. And I could still hear you. I just couldn’t talk.”
Skalturin: “Then please inform me how to deactivate your ability to hear in the future.”
DM: (an incredibly long pause) “You hit the button on the top, there—“

Mikas promptly turns it off. Repeatedly. A scientist named Laszlo has information they need; Matthias relates this to an alleged “Mad Laszlo”.

DM: “Laszlo’s said to have a brother. Mad Laszlo is the one who had tried to rebuild the Devastator.”
Skalturin: The Devastator. The most powerful dildo in existence.
Mikas: I thought that was the Purple Titan.
Skalturin: No, the Devastator exceeded it in every dimension.

The city they’re in gets a name: Wen Kory. Skalturin smugly demands the name of the large city they must go to just to watch the DM squirm. An EXTREMELY long pause results.

DM: Cebeuq. Because you’re continuing north! You used the terminology right, and you didn’t figure it out. You’re going north, and north of New York is not Boston or Washington!

The DM waxes elaborate on how this all came from elaborate mistranslations of simple signage.

DM: “Used to be water here. This place used to be an island, from what I understand, in the past. But now it’s just dry land.
Skalturin: You damn… dirty… maniacs! You blew it all up! Damn you! Damn you all to hell! (collapsing into a ball and sobbing)
Mikas: “So all you can tell is that something happened, caused a big schism?”
DM: “From what I understand, at some point…”

Skalturin’s feeble giggles-slash-sobs finally become too much for the group and they begin laughing in turn. The book explains that the world was devastated by accident, as labs detonated in a chain reaction.

Skalturin: (feebly) This is why your holy symbol shocks them. It’s not the radioactivity symbol, because they worship a giant unexploded bomb… (collapsing again)

The DM continues to attempt to explain the plot, but this is spoiled by Skalturin playing the “Dr. Zaius” song from the Simpsons. As the game ends, the PCs plan to plunder the museums to make up the treasure gap…