Racist game, racist game, 1, 2, 3 4…The game opens with the characters in the abandoned inn above the hidden dwarf village. Artificer Cambrian Steele, replacing the sadly-deceased Kurain, and fighter Connor wait in the wings for their introduction.

DM: You all go to sleep… unless you take watches or anything of the sort. How are you guys planning to end your night?
Cambrian: In heaven.
Lydanna: “I’ll take the first watch.”
Cain: “I’ll take the watch after that.”
Drengar: “I’ll take the third.”
Cambrian: So no one’s taking the second watch?
Drengar: He said he’d take the one after the first.
Cain: He’s being a douche.
Cambrian: I’m dead, what else do I have to do?
Cain: You’re a douche anyway!
DM: That’s okay, because Davlamar said, “Fuck all y’all, I’m going to sleep.”
Drengar: The guy with the highest Spot and Listen…

The demons outside frenzy at the edge of the wards – but that one large humanoid demon from previous sessions appears and stares at them through most of the night, as it had done so previously. Lydanna observes it through her watch, then during Cain’s watch, the demon looks over to the well, back at him, then walks off.

Cain: Motherfucker’s gonna piss in our well!
Cambrian: All’s well that ends well.
Davlamar: Ohhhhhh…
Cain: Can’t you be dead?
DM: As soon as he leaves from your sight, you start hearing screams. They’re very faint, it’s hard to make them out, but you start hearing screaming, and shouting, what sounds like the occasional clash of battle…
Davalamar: Someone else’s safety circle has gone onery…
Cambrian: Yeah, dwarves are just crap with those, aren’t they.
DM: It’s about two hours before sunrise, and then all of a sudden, pouring out of the well, at dwarves. Pouring out, getting torn to pieces by the demons.
Davlamar: Down in their town! Ah ha ha ha! Good thing we didn’t go down there!
DM: Do you wake up the others?
Cain: Hold on, I’m trying… “Drengar. You don’t want to look out the window. It’s not good outside right now. On the plus side, I think I know where the dwarf village is. Things aren’t going well there, though…”

The DM continues to describe the carnage of the fight. The PCs have no meaningful way to help; all they can do is stare in horror for a couple of hours, though the fight doesn’t take nearly this long. Lydanna rolls a natural 20 on her Listen check to wake up to the carnage, which inexplicably knocks her down to -9 hit points. At last, the sun rises, banishing the demons.

DM: Did you wake up and watch the carnage with him, are you seeing the same thing he sees?
Drengar: Yes.
DM: The other two, what do you guys do with them?
Cain: We’re too busy being shocked by the window, I assume they’re going to wake up and go outside…
Cambrian: Must be a low dew point this morning…
DM: Lydanna and Davlamar, upstairs sleeping soundly, you rise, and stretch. You whistle a merry tune to yourselves as you clean yourselves up…
Davlamar: “Ah, it’s a good mornin’ ta be a dwarf.”
DM: You come downstairs, Davlamar, you look at Drengar and Cain, and you say, “What’s for breakfast?”
Cambrian: Roll your Fortitude saves vs. vomiting!

Cain vomits a little in his mouth, then spits it in the face of the Manslayer, who is present solely for that purpose.

Davlamar: “Dinna can hear me? I’m hungry!”
Cain: “The demons… kind of went into the well…”
Davlamar: “Aye, aye, the demons.”
Cain: “And then dwarves came out. And now they’re on the floor.”
Davlamar: “Did they have a game of dice?”
Cain: “Well. Well, if the dice went very very wrong, and the dice were all demons, and the demons started jumping out of the cups and attacking the dwarves, yes. That’s exactly what happened.”

Drengar heads over to the well… while Davlamar attempts to loot the corpses. Obviously this fails. The PCs grimly discuss how best to give the dwarves SOME token of burial. Drengar finds one twitching hand reaching up from beneath a pile of gore and corpses!

Drengar: I take a hold of it. Clear away the muck around it.
DM: A sole dwarf… he’s missing a leg, and basically part of his lower left arm is torn to pieces. He’s going to die.
Cambrian: He’s going to die. No matter how you heal him. You could cast Heal on him…
Drengar: I thought you were going to be all, “I grab the hand. I gotcha!” (mimes yanking the hand off) “Oaaaghhaaoo!”
DM: The thought crossed my mind! It really did cross my mind…
Drengar: It crossed my mind as well.
DM: But I was like, I can’t, dude, I can’t have you rip this guy’s arm off. Because then I can’t get the point across, this dude’ll just be screaming an agony. You can’t rip a guy’s arm off and then have him just be like, “Aww, man.”
Cambrian: So Drengar stone-cold kills a guy…
DM: So you take his hand. You look down at a single dwarf. It’s a warrior, a fighter. You can see by the build, you can see by the pieces of chain mail that are still on him, and in his eyes you just see pure fear. Pure fear and hatred.
Drengar: “How?”
Cambrian: You greet him in your Indian tongue.
Drengar: “Me want-um know.”
Cambrian: “Where-um stack wampum?”
Cain: “If only we had four other people…”

The warrior-dwarf whispers the sole word, ‘goblins’, before expiring. The DM cheerfully encourages them to burn the bodies by setting the inn on fire; the players, noting that it’s a warded building, also note that the DM provides terrible suggestion. The well is too clogged by bodies, somehow, so they can’t get into the dwarven town.

Cambrian: I told you, get a giant plunger…
Cain: You are a monster.
DM: I like how the random dwarves you’re gonna bury, but your comrade in arms you left to rot and decompose…

Through the magic of unspecificity, the PCs say a few words over the dwarves and discharge their duty to bury them all somehow. Cain dons a bandana, ties it too tightly, and lapses into oxygen-deprives hysterics before someone convinces him to remove it. They travel onwards to the dwarven capital, crossing a plains to find two immense statues, Lord of the Rings style, with their hands out as a warning – and as repositories for gigantic runes! They spot guards on the watchtower. Cain ponders how to get their attention.

Drengar: Is there an easy way to get up there?
DM: Not really.
Cambrian: Use semaphore.
Cain: Maybe I should act human. “I’m a human! Boo poo doo poo!” “Get him!” “Oh no.”

Drengar signals to the guards to come down! They do so, and so the group waits. It takes a full hour before they pop out of the mountain and approach.

Drengar: “I come with grave news of the town of…” What was the name of it?
DM and Davlamar: Stonehaven.
Cambrian: Wait, no. Stonehaven was the one that had the dungeon beneath it.
Davlamar: “The other Stonehaven.”
Cain: “The town north of Stonehaven.”
Cambrian: Dwarf Stonehaven, not human Stonehaven.
Cain: Didn’t we have a name for this town when we first got to it? Check the game report!
Cambrian: We dubbed it Pallet Town. That’s what we called it. Because there was just that one building.

Drengar solemnly reports the town has been wiped out. The dwarf assures them they are completely safe – they are in fact in a hollowed-out mountain, seemingly impregnable. Cambrian predicts the demons are caused by cordyceps fungus.

Cambrian: “The Last of Us Racists.”

The field from the hollowed-mountain is so large is takes half a day to cross, leading the players to dub this Dwarf Rivendell. The DM describes the massive city halfway up the Cliffside, with a switchback path leading almost straight up.

DM: This city is a sheer killing field for anyone who tries to attack.
Cain: Are these dwarves throwing barrels at us? Jump check! Jump check!

The DM demands the table be cleared so he can draw the map. This takes an extraordinary long time. For some reason, Drengar attempts to stab the DM in the nuts with a fork. Tasteless humor abounds. Connor finally reappears from a long disappearance.

Cain: Aww, Connor, you’re missing the creepiness.
Connor: I was responding to the creepiness, thank you very much.
DM: By leaving.
Cambrian: …oh that’s right, you named my new character “Landfill II.”

It goes where it always does…

Davlamar: Too many toasters in dwarf-town.
Cain: That was their problem in their last town. Too many toasters!
Cambrian: They plugged too many rune-toasters into the runes.
Cain: Too many rune-toasters, they all went off at the same time.
Cambrian: And drew off all their power from their runes.

In they head! They see a number of guards training in the yard…

DM: But they’re very pompous in their training. Lot of flexing…
Cambrian: “I am Hanz.” “Und I am Franz!”
Davlamar: “I pick things up, and I put them down…”
DM: “How great am I, I don’t really need to work that hard…”
Cain: “I am lifting forty pounds, with my biceps.”
Cain: Shut up.
Cambrian: “Oh look at all these little girly men!”
DM: Out of the guardpost comes another captain. He goes, “Ach!”

A pause.

Cambrian: And goes back in! Oh, it’s one o’clock in the afternoon!
DM: “Welcome, strangers. Welcome to Castle Iron Mountain. What is it that brings you to our wonderful, beautiful, great castle?”
Drengar: “Messages.”
Davlamar: “We’re here to see the wizard.”
Cain: “The wonderful wizard.”
DM: “Of Oz? Well he’s DEAD! KILL HIM!”

The characters are instructed to sign in at the guardhouse. They must also turn in their stuff!

DM: “Plus you have to put these peacewibbons on your weapons.”

A very long pause.

Cain: Peace RIBBONS?
Drengar: Yes… it came out ‘wibbons’…
Cambrian: “We don’t want you hunting any wascawwy wabbits around hewe.”

Everyone is required to surrender their weapons but the dwarves. Cain demands a receipt. The DM gets bitter over the players’ repeated mockery of his accent and completely abandons it.

Cain: Why my armor? I have no clothes. That’s what I wear.
DM: Then we’ll provide you with clothing.
Cain: Why do they want my armor? That’s weird.
DM: Because weapons can be hid, easily, inside of armor.
Cain: So can clothes!
DM: Doesn’t matter, that’s their rules.
Cain: I give ‘em the clothes, I just walk around naked. I’m not taking that. They don’t got clothes for me, they want my armor, they’re dealing with the bush.
DM: They’ll provide clothes—
Davlamar: Dwarf-sized.
Drengar: Imagine the rashes you have, man.
DM: You wear nothing underneath your armor?!
Cain: I got a wife-beater and some boxers…
Cambrian: You have to wear the dwarven clothing. The dwarven women’s clothing.
DM: “We’ve got this beautiful dress…”
Cambrian: They give you a dwarven muumuu. On you it’s a miniskirt.

The DM calls for Spot checks; they all pass, and therefore observe a rune on the side of the guard’s neck. A different design than the human guards, but the same theory. The PCs speculate on the ultimate villain, debating whether it’s the Poopsmith or Mr. Popo. Surrendering their weapons, the PCs are treated to a spiel from the guard on how awesome the city and its inhabitants.

Drengar: I’m really tempted to ask him, like, “Do you have relatives in that town of blah-blah-blah? Yes? Not any moooore…” Let’s take the wind out of his sails.
DM: And they take you into the throne room.
Cain: I am of course showing off humans’ disrespect for others by walking around in my wifebeater.
Davlamar: Are Connor and Cambrian both just gonna be in a cell in the bottom of this place?
Cain: I’m wondering how quick I’m going to jail. I hand him the letter, he reads it, I am arrested.
Cambrian: My character is going to be the subject of the ceremonial execution you witness. “This is what becomes of you if you misbehave in my kingdom!” You see my character with his head on the block, looking puzzled. Shoonk.
Drengar: Roll a new character.
Davlamar: “We caught this one trying to discover the secrets of the runes!”
Cambrian: “We caught this one being an artificer. That’s a high crime in all lands!”

They approach King Gregorian Stouthammer! The ludicrously boisterous king welcomes them enthusiastically… and talks up his own castle, just like everyone else!

Cambrian: I have a feeling my character was imprisoned for not sucking up to how great the castle is.
Cain: My Bluff is not good at all!
Drengar: Intimidate it is!

The king reads the letter, while Cain desperately rolls Hide checks to flee, but the king bursts into laughter!

DM: “I haven’t had a good joke like this in a long time! Oh my gosh.” And he’s just laughing maniacally.
Davlamar: This is the message that we risked so much to bring to him… “A dwarf, an elf, and a human walk into a bar…”
DM: He reaches back and he goes, “Messengers, messengers, come to me. Come to me.”
Cambrian: “Kill the men who bear this message…”
DM: “I want you to read this letter out loud for the rest of the people here. This… this is classic!”
Cain: (starting to read the actual message given to them by the DM) “The human—“ WHAT?!
Davlamar: Okay, that IS pretty funny…
Cambrian: I died for this.
Cain: “Attention dwarves. The only holes in the ground you will be digging will be your graves. Die! Sincerely… Homestar.” This is just like something Strongbad would write in place of Homestar…
Davlamar: Who gave you this bloody message anyway?
Cain: This was from the king.
Davlamar: Is the king a nitwit? Is he, like… Is the human king Homer Simpson?
Lydanna: I’m going to turn a very pasty white. And since I’m a redhead, that’s very pasty indeed.
DM: “Ah ha… ah… Don’t worry, I learned a long time ago that you don’t kill the messenger.”
Cambrian: “You just imprison him and let starvation do the work.”
DM: “In fact… I knew you were coming!” He reaches over to the side and he beckons somebody to come in from the side. In comes Prince Dwaelar, the human prince.
Lydanna: Oh jeez…

The Prince greets them, incidentally reminding the group of when they parted ways back… when he stole their other rune circle. The DM unceremoniously kills Arna in the narration.

Cain: I’m trying to work my way out of the castle, with my equipment. Trying to get out of here.
DM: “You don’t need to go. You’re in good hands. I warned the good king here that my father was waging war, and was bringing his forces in full effect. We will talk of this later. For now, though, it is good that you guys are safe. I remember my father had promised a payment on delivery of this message. Thought I do not agree with everything he does I will respect his word.”

The prince pays them! A little small talk ensues, and then the dwarven king calls for more wine.

DM: “Ha ha ha! You saw my kingdom on your way in! Any army that DARES to attack me here—“
Davlamar: Oh god! He’s just asking for a midnight… another dwarf sentry’s throat is slit every time he’s opening his mouth.

Feeling there’s no better time, the PCs reveal the death of the entire town to the king (with some questionable jokes mixed in). The dwarf king hastily consults with an advisor, his manner changing quickly.

DM: “Goblins have not been seen here in quite some time.”
Drengar: “It was only a matter of time, my lord, before they were seen again. And they seem to have chosen this moment to do so.”
DM: “Aye. It’s unfortunate that you bring this up now. And it is even more unfortunate that this entire village was wiped out by goblins. And you are the only survivors…?
Drengar: “Because we had non-dwarven people, we decided to stay aboveground.”
Cain: “There was an inn there… like a house, warded-off—“
DM: “I’m familiar with it.”
Drengar: “That’s where we stayed. I couldn’t get to the underground, I have no idea if there are survivors or not. The way in was blocked with bodies. I told the guard captain at the gates.”
DM: “Then understand my concern that you bring up goblins who conveniently destroyed an entire village that has stood for hundreds of years unmolested, and the one night you show up it is conveniently destroyed. By goblins.” The king looks over at one of his advisors and says to him, “I want you to order the captain of the guard to go to this village and double-check their story. In the meantime, I’m placing you under arrest.”
Cain: I’m SHOCKED. I didn’t see that coming! Strip the guy of all his armor and weapons, then arrest him. Surprise! I think my dude is already on the ground, hands behind his back. Not surprised.
DM: The guards come up. They blindfold you—
Cain: NOW I’M RESISTING!
DM: They blindfold you and they lead you to their cells.
Cain: I still don’t understand the point of this blindfold…
Davlamar: In case we get out, they don’t want us to find our way back to our cells.
DM: The idea of being blindfolded is that in case you escape and you get outside the dungeon, you’re not gonna know your way around the castle.

The DM introduces Connor and Cambrian as in the cell next to the pair! Cambrian notes amusedly that he could have escaped at any time, but hasn’t.

Davlamar: It’s not easy for a human to just wear the guard’s uniform and walk out of jail. Unless you put the shoes on your knees…
Cain: “Greetings! I don’t know how long you guys have been in here, but humans have declare war on EVERYBODY! Just wanted to give you a heads-up. I’m gonna lay over here ‘cuz more than likely I’m gonna be accused of killing a town of dwarves.”
Cambrian: “Did you?”
Cain: “No, no, not quite but I’m pretty sure all hands point to me. I delivered a message where our king told all dwarves to die.”
Cambrian: “I’m afraid the dwarf king has no honor.”
Cain: “I’m not thinking about that too much right now, I’m thinking about what I’m going to do for my last couple days, before the axeman sees me. Axedwarf.”
Davlamar: “Aye, you killed a whole town of dwarves before walking into their capital and delivering an insult to their king.”
Cain: “It sounds like something a human would do. Sounded like a plan. Like I said earlier though, I call the cot—“ It’s a dwarf sized cot! I’m sitting there laying on the bed, my legs are hanging off the end. “This SUCKS!”

Renewing his vow to slay the artificer, the DM explains that they were jailed for carrying a message outside of the proper guild channels. This puzzles them, but they shrug it off. They’ve been in there for a week. Cain insists the prison are dwarf-sized!

Cambrian: In the meantime, you have no idea how many shivs I’ve carved myself. I’d like to point out I have Craft(armorsmithing), Craft(weaponsmithing), Craft(pottery), (sculpting), and (metalworking). I’m making shivs out of everything.
DM: You have nothing. You can’t make shivs because you have no tools.
Cain: You don’t need tools! That’s what they do in real prisons, they make shivs out of blankets, and I don’t know how to do it.
Davlamar: Does he have rocks?
DM: You have nothing! …I had this whole thing made out before you had to go to jail, but I was like, “man, I gotta introduce their characters.”
Cambrian: Come on, it’s only half an hour before the game’s over, we could’ve waited another session!

The prisoners are down there for an unspecified amount of time; they appear to be only fed once a day. Cambrian realizes this is all a plan to kill his character by starvation damage. Dwaelar comes down to visit on the second day.

Drengar: Pew! No, just kidding.
Cain: That’s right, he doesn’t need equipment to blow open the door!
Cambrian: They took your hands, but they gave you a receipt…
DM: “Friends, I am so sorry.”
Cain: “Don’t worry about it! I’ve been wearing this wife-beater and boxers for two days!”
Drengar: I have a miasmic cloud around me…
DM: “I’m gonna be smelling so bad they’ll kick us out of the kingdom!”

Cambrian demands an explanation for who this guy is, and doesn’t get much of one. The prince explains that his father is going crazy. He claims he’s convinced the king they’re not guilty, and that the king believes it, but will not free them. Cain and Cambrian spend a while exchanging cynicisms through the bars, to which the prince bluntly tells Cambrian he’s guilty as sin and is just waiting to be hauled back to the human lands for trial.

DM: “I don’t have much time, but I just came down to tell you, about the same time as my father starting acting weird, King Gregarius started acting strangely as well. I don’t know anything of it…

The prince leaves, and time passes. In the distance, abruptly, they hear faint claps of thunder, which over the course of an hour grows louder and louder, finally waking everyone up – including Cain, who is the only one with the Knowledge(nature) necessary to make a roll on this!

DM: You know enough to know that it is NOT the rainy season.
Cambrian: Good work, you used a roll to determine what we all knew already!
DM: There is something else that’s going on.
Cain: “This storm is unnatural.” (looking at Cambrian’s My Little Pony shirt) Just like that T-shirt.
DM: Another 20 minutes and the thunder is deafening, at this point. Massive thundering.
Cambrian: (plugging his ears)
Drengar: Your wands in your ears…
Cambrian: I don’t have wands. My shivs are in my ears…
DM: The shockwaves are shaking the entire building. Your cells, even the rock is shaking around you.
Connor: Are the bars loose?
DM: You noticed! That amongst all this thundering and shaking the hinges are starting to break a little bit, and wobble, and they’re starting to become very weak.
Cambrian: I take the pins out.
Drengar: (bursting into laughter)
Cain: Stop taking the pins out!
DM: YOU CAN’T TAKE THE –ING PINS OUT, DUDE!
Cambrian: (maniacal laughter)

The game pauses for a moment as the players explain to the DM just how Dirk smashed through things back in the day. The characters laboriously smash the doors open, by which we mean, Lydanna takes the hell out of everyone’s doors and injures Connor in the process. As the DM begins gathering up every mini present at the table, the group starts rolling up new characters. The players emerge into a barracks, finding a few dead dwarven bodies. They swiftly loot some weapons off the bodies, as they hear massive battle outside and see human warriors pouring in through the front gate! The DM gets oddly giddy as he describes this scene. Taking this in, the group decided their allegiance lies with themselves and only themselves, and their plan is to get their stuff back and get out.

Cain: I have a handaxe and no armor. So I’m in no way, shape, or form to do combat with anything outside of a muskrat. But I tell you, with this handaxe I can hit a whomprat, that’s only about two meters wide.
Davlamar: That’s impossible.
Cambrian: We should just go out there and fake like we’re fighting each other as we cut across the courtyard!
DM: Two dwarves against the two humans…
Cain: “Don’t worry guys, we got these, we’re gonna get ‘em off your back!”
Davlamar: Drengar, we’ll pull a Detroit Rock City. Let’s beat the living shit out of each other, and then go up to the armory and say, “We need weapons to continue the fight!” and they’ll have to give them to us!

The group legitimately considers smashing through the back wall of the barracks instead of running through a giant battle, but the DM refuses to even consider it. As they inch out into the combat, some combatants get struck down. The DM bitterly considers ending his campaign because Cambrian is playing an artificer. The PCs advance forward and a confused argument erupts over who is AOOing who – the PCs had assumed they could get past their own races safely, but the combatants take their attacks haphazardly! They get through the courtyard only to find more combatants in the hallways. A human archer attempts to shoot Cambrian as an AOO… but has a bow and isn’t armed with a gauntlet, so he fails. A warrior gets one though!

DM: 7. What’s your AC?
Cambrian: …Higher than 7. And now dwarf gets one…
DM: Dwarf doesn’t wanna take one.

The dwarf then attacks Connor, because the human didn’t, because he didn’t have Combat Reflexes. The group goes insane.

DM: Connor! What’s your AC? I hope it’s, uh… is it 20 or greater?
Cambrian: NO!
Cain: How is that possible?!
Connor: Uhhhh….
Drengar: Why would you ask that?
DM: Why are you guys treating me like – assholes you guys are treating me like!
Cain: You know we don’t have ARMOR!
DM: As the battle rages…
Cambrian: Let’s take bets on what’s going to be in the armory. I have five on a beholder.
Drengar: I’m gonna say two dwarf guards.
Davlamar: An owlbear.
Cain: An owlbear skeleton. Fuck!
Drengar: And you’re the first one in.
DM: This dwarf falls in combat. This warrior rolls himself a natural 1 and actually stabbed himself in the foot, as he was declaring an intent to fight…
Cain: Drengar’s intently watching the battle and giving us reports!

Cain, seeing that no place is safe and attacks could come at any moment, begins moving his mini forward…

Cain: One, two, three, four… uh…. Five… “Human coming through! I hate dwarves!” Six… “I love dwarves! Go dwarves!” Eight…

Cambrian hurries into the armory and doom. Inside, two archers and a warrior await.

Cain: Hold out your receipt! “I have my receipt!”
DM: The dwarf soldier there recognize you, he knows you’re not with the attacking army.

The dwarves beg their aid in defending the armory, confusing the group as to why they’d ask for help. Lacking any better option, and feeling pretty bitter toward the humans, they all sign up for armory guarding detail. They have exactly a minute before the attack wave hits them, and so they begin frantically donning their armor hastily… Outside, dwarves die!

Davlamar: Weren’t these supposed to be the buffest of the buff… they’re just dropping like cardboard stand-ups…

There’s a lot more fight to come, though; the DM pauses the game here on the verge of the second wave, to be continued next time!