Hoping to finally actually get out of the stupid city of shadows, the game picks up with the characters debating which door to go through!

Inferian: I feel like the weight of narrative causality is informing us to go to the downstairs area.
Falgrim: (incredulous laughter)
DM: No, not on my account. If you guys want to stretch this out until the game---
Inferian: WEIGHT. Of narrative causality.
DM: We’re all smiling now, but in the game report it’ll be like… “The DM, with acid dripping, repeatedly insults the players, making it a personal vendetta…” That’s how it sounds in the game reports, like I’m viciously attacking you guys.
Inferian: You were pretty clear this game WAS a personal vendetta, dude.
DM: As a joke!
Calinai: (angrily) Give me some Smarties. I’m gonna eat them like a human being.
Inferian: By putting them in your mouth? Oh crap. I’ve been doing it wrong this entire time.
Falgrim: I’m telling you, up the butt, man, the sugar rush will hit you faster…

As usual, it ends with a vow to deep-fry the Smarties. The DM, with acid dripping, repeatedly insults Inferian’s abilities, making it a personal vendetta.

DM: You do so much… like… uh—
Sioneva: Bullshit.
DM: Not bullshit, but death-slinging, I forget sometimes that you are a psionic character.

Morian Sedai contacts Inferian at this point, curious as to how they fare. They quickly hash out the details of when they last spoke to the Sedai, and the circumstances thereof.

Falgrim: I think it was after the battle…
Inferian: It was afterwards. We’d said we’d gotten into a tangle, they said, “Why are you bothering us with this?” Not in so many words…
DM: That’s how you TOOK it. If you’re going to continue to take communiqués as hostile, I’m going to continue making them neutral. But you receive a query asking if everything is well.
Calinai: “Yeah, everything’s good. AAAH!!!! AAAAAH!”
DM: “Okay!”
Lars: It comes more in the term of, “Status update.” Nice and neutral.
Inferian: “How are you doing, fuckers?”

The two groups plan to meet back up. The casters are desperate for a rest to replenish their spells, but that really isn’t an option for them. They begin clearing the table in expectation of map-drawing and combat.

Calinai: I express my rage as poop.
Inferian: This explains so much. “The madder Hulk get, the more REGULAR get Hulk!”
Falgrim: As he pumps natural fiber into his system!

Benar creeps forward to see what’s behind the door that sounds like bowling, and somehow this leads to Lion-O spying on Cheetara in the shower.

Calinai: Sword of Omens, give me snacks beyond snacks!

Benar creeps down the wide but poorly-lit passage. It quickly becomes too dark for him to see as he exceeds the boundaries of the illumination. The black dice bag is emptied into a tub, which prompts some very filthy jokes. Benar, and through his description, the rest of the party prove unable to determine what exactly the noises are.

DM: Give me a quick reminder as to what all, sense thises and sense thats you guys have going at all times.
Falgrim: Darkvision and stonecunning.
DM: Not the vision, but Detect Evil, Detect Shadowspawn, Detect… burnt toast, you guys have a lot of things going on…

The audio craps out for some reason, and it takes a moment to fix things. At some point the group began going down some hallway, which now comes to an end at a door. The DM pauses the game solely to compliment the way Inferian puts special emphasis on the letter U any time it is spoken. Suddenly things get weird.

DM: Out of nowhere, Artemis pops out. Out of another hole in the wall: “Hey guys!” Cissy appears! On the other side of the door you can hear, “Hey guys, I’ve got a keg of ale!”
Inferian: What is this, the elven kingdom? The Hallway of Past Adventures?
DM: Inside the room is a stone Barack. Lying upon the bed, lying under a blanket, is the dwarven god Moradin.
Lars: Standing in a corner, counting his money is Gaaaaaaarl—
Lars and DM: Glittergold.
DM: I only can picture Garl Glittergold as that King of Hyrule from the Phillips CDI…
Lars: I’m going to cast Light… what should I cast it on?
Falgrim: On your codpiece.
Lars: You know what? I think I will.
Falgrim: I knew you’d accept that, too.
DM: If this were anywhere other than where it was, there would be consequences. Like if you did that in the city…
Lars: What’re you talking about? I cast Light on my nuts. “Hey baby, take off my robe.” It’d be like out of Pulp Fiction. Yes, I will cast Light on my nuts!
Calinai: That’s inside your armor, so it’s not really going to help us too much.
Lars: You know what I mean.

Lars and Falgrim squabble angrily over who will crowbar open the stuck door before them. They roll exceedingly well, but only manage to break part of the door. This is enough to peer through, though, and they realize on doing so that they’d come all the way around back to the room they’d rested in several sessions before. Conveniently, this is the room with the staircase that leads down!

Inferian: Yeah, but there’s plenty more we still needed to explore, so this isn’t the way we wanted to go. Oh wait – wait—wait! That force of narrative causality is urging me to go down the stairs!
DM: You’re the one who wants the dungeon to be over with. That’s your narrative causality. Shove that pole up your ass. You want the dungeon to be over? Go on down. If not, continue on!

The group debates for a long time if they could rest (they can’t) and if they can keep going without rest (they really don’t want to).

Lars: Why don’t we check out those four doors?
Inferian: Because you keep whining about how you have no spells left, so let’s go where the end is!
Lars: What the fuck, dude, I don’t want just end it. I’ll go through here with no spells. I’ll hack my way out without spells!
Inferian: I’m sure we’ll go through the spells downstairs.
Lars: I’m sure we will, but I’d still like to explore and see what else is out there.
Calinai: It’s not like we go down there, we grab the item, and we teleport back to town.
Inferian: We’re kind of under a time limit from the whole trolloc army and everything.
Calinai: And it’s going to be night soon,
Treedon: Let’s get in, get the item, and get the hell out.
DM: The longer you stay here, the more this is going to start developing Castlevania-like qualities. There’s going to be medusa heads flying at you like this -- (making a wavy motion with his hand) and no matter how many you kill they keep coming. And eventually one of them will hit you, and there won’t be a turkey in the wall for you to eat.
Inferian: There can’t be a turkey in the wall, Falgrim’s stonecunning would have detected it.

Lars proposes they go smash in the wall near where they’d heard the mysterious bowling noise. The rest of the group is not too keen on this, for some unfathomable reason.

DM: In addition to the RP, I’m now throwing out the window any pretense of me trying to be a good DM.
Calinai: What’s that mean?
DM: That’s why the, what’d you call it—
Inferian: Narrative causality?
DM: Has also kicked in.
Treedon: What the hell is the narrative causality thing you keep talking about?
DM: In layman’s terms, that means DM don’t give a shit. Do what you will.

The DM threatens to blindfold Calinai’s character if they keep exploring the dungeon. It turns into explicit ragging on Calinai. Lars then proposes they check the other doors, at which point everyone gives up on trying to go downstairs and they go check the other door.

DM: You push open those doors. On the other side sits an unworldly-looking feline. A demonic cat, so to speak…
Inferian: Close the door, walk away…

Calinai manages to both degrade and injure herself in a way that makes Inferian laugh so hard he gets the hiccups. The group discovers a tower with a staircase, which Inferian flies up to investigate.

Lars: Why don’t you send your psicrystal out any more?
Inferian: Because he’ll kill it as soon as I do!
DM: Meta. The rest of you wonder to yourselves why Inferian, who was so gung-ho with his psicrystal earlier on, now seems reluctant to ever even take it out of his pocket.
Inferian: Narrative causality dictates that a useful tool will be stripped from the hero…
DM: Stripped?! Stripped! If I wanted to strip it from you I’d just have you roll a Spot in your sleep, or a Listen or something, and when you wake up it’d be gone.
Inferian: I thought you were going to imply that I rolled over on it in my sleep and crushed it…

No sooner does Inferian descend from the tower than Lars RUNS over to the next door to listen at it before anyone can suggest any other course of action.

Lars: Lars rolls a 14 on his Listen check, and he hears wood.
Falgrim: It’s a steel door.
DM: Lars hears the sound of a door being shut.
Lars: Oh! Hello. “HEY GUYS—“ I’m just kidding. Through the psicrystal—
Falgrim: Through the mindlink.
Lars: Oh yes. Through the mindlink, “GET OUT OF MY HEAD—“ I’m gonna tell everybody hey, I think there’s somebody on the other side of this door.
DM: Lars has summoned all of you to the mangled door, relaying to you that he hears the sound of a door being closed.
Inferian: I suspect it’s merely an excuse to kill me as a tyrant and refuse to come. No, I come.
Calinai: So what do we hear at the door?
Lars: I heard the sound of another door closing.
DM: That’s not what I said.
Falgrim: The sound of one hand clapping.
Calinai: (clapping with one hand)
DM: Calinai listens at the door?
Calinai: Why am I listening at the door?
DM: I don’t know what that means!
Calinai: That’s me clapping. That’s one hand clapping.
DM: You all hear the sound of Calinai’s hand clapping.
Calinai: (stops clapping)
DM: You no longer hear the sound of Calinai’s hand clapping.
Calinai: (hysterically) I’m going to hit you in the face! (slowly flipping off the DM to the Back to the Future theme)
Lars: We’re all here? We’re all ready? …is anybody else NOT looking forward to the Winter Soldier movie? I’m just not like… I didn’t really care for –
Inferian: Are you opening the door or what?
Lars: Um. I’m gonna check the latch…
Calinai: Just open it! Smash it in the face!
DM: Benar confirms that yes. That is one closed door. That was the noise you heard. That was the sound of a door. Being closed. Since the door was closed while you were making your Listen check.
Calinai: THAT DIE IS TERRIBLE! It did 3, 2, 1! It was a countdown to shit!
Treedon: A good group checks for traps before opening the door..
DM: How are you attempting to force the door?
Inferian: Well, this is Lars. Making clever jokes and rolling Diplomacy while implying he’s huge.
Lars: I’m going to Intimidate the door – no, I’m just going to kick it.
Inferian: I watch in confusion as Lars summons us all for an emergency crisis to intercept some grave threat and then limp-noodles the door.
Lars: Didn’t I roll an 18?
DM: Your swift kick slams abruptly into the door. It rocks a bit on its frame but stays on whatever hinges or contraptions stick it to the wall.
Lars: I roll a 20 to kick it again!
DM: Your other foot! …well, that’s going to smart in the morning, but you get the same effect.
Lars: Then I’m going to reach down, turn the latch, and open it!
DM: Sorry.
Falgrim: I muscle my way in and crowbar the shit out of it. 24.
Lars: Dick. He only did that because I loosened it up for him.
DM: I want you to give me a Balance check.
Falgrim: That’s when I start rolling bad, of course. A 9.
Inferian: The DM’s like, “I’m putting a pit behind this door. They’re going to the bottom level whether they like it or not.”
DM: Inferian’s now running my game, I’m going to trade places with him.
Calinai: That’d be hilarious, he had nothing planned until he said… “Balance check,” and all it was was he just tripped over a rock. “There’s a pit!” “There sure is…”

Lars furiously jams himself through the door to try to catch Falgrim before he plummets, but the dwarf squirts out of his grip.

Lars: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Falgrim: I throw my dwarven waraxe. “I’m taking you with meeeee!”

Lars retroactively succeeds by virtue of adding his size modifier. The dwarf’s crowbar tumbles down into the darkness, over sixty feet before. Calinai gives the DM the idea of dispelling Inferian’s flight, which the DM laughs wickedly at and vows to use; Lars, meanwhile, yearns to drown someone by pinning them down and casting Create Water. Inferian sends his psicrystal downwards!

DM: Down, down the crystal goes… what’s its Armor Class? I’ve been wanting to ask you that for so long. But I’m actually only asking you that for reference here.
Calinai: What happened? Did all the traps get set off?
Inferian: All the crystal-seeking traps.
Calinai: He’s like, “Finally. I’m not even going to roll for that. Your crystal’s dead.”
Lars: While the crystal’s doing that, Lars runs over and boots in the other door!
Inferian: I’m still trying to figure out what his huge crisis was that Lars sent us down to investigate.
Calinai: He was looking for a toilet.
Lars: I thought there was somebody on the other side of the door.
Inferian: I know what you thought out of character, but in character, I’m still baffled.
Calinai: He foresaw him falling.

The psicrystal crawls all the way to D&D China somehow, and is killed by Chun Li. In reality, the crystal finds a large cavern a long way below. The DM struggles to describe this.

DM: Picture… meta-speak if you will, because my powers of… what is it?
Inferian: Narrative causality.
Calinai: I wish you had never said that.
Inferian: This isn’t a failure of narrative causality, this is a failure of expositional might.
DM: Thank you.
Calinai: Okay, you have officially given me a migraine.
Inferian: You see, Falgrim? I told you I’d find some way to piss off Calinai tonight… even if I don’t remember what it was I wanted to do…

The characters begin debating how to descend this shaft, coming up with such wise ideas as falling, then teleporting just before they hit the ground, or sending Lars first to clog up the shaft with his large size. (Okay, these are all Lars’s ideas.) Others point out there were stairs where they had rested, which was admittedly so long ago many of them don’t remember.

DM: You had chosen to forsake them to go and further explore this level.
Inferian: He said ‘forsake’, it’s clearly a Freudian message that there’s one of the Forsaken down there.
Sioneva: For crying out loud.
Calinai: Oh man, you are beyond 400 milligrams of ibuprofen.
Falgrim: No, the ‘for crying out loud’ are different.
DM: Wow. You just pulled an Inferian. So subtle, too. It went over my head, I had to turn around and go chase it.

Lars, as is his wont, scrambles over to another door to detect evil behind it, which he actually does. In a fit of ecstasy, he whips out his crowbar to smash his way in.

DM: Oh now you’re just flaunting it over Falgrim. “You’ve got no crowbar.”
Lars: “I think I’m gonna use this CROWBAR…”
DM: Even though, why is it that Falgrim lost his crowbar? I think you should hand it over to him.
Inferian: Lars isn’t interested in THAT kind of justice.
Lars: Sweet!
Falgrim: Can I put a Crystal of Returning in my crowbar…?
Lars: 28 to pry that door open. Using the crowbar.
DM: You all watch as Lars sets the bar to the door. You give it a mighty heave! It flies open on its own. Give me a Balance check, please.
Lars: Motherfracker. -2.
DM: You all watch as Lars gives a mighty heave. The door immediately caves inward, and now all you can see is Lars’ mighty posterior projecting from the doorway as he has lodged himself in it. The door was actually not locked or even CLOSED, but since none of you bothered to check…

The group laughs itself silly. Lars spots the corpse of a beheaded half-man at a hallway intersection; its resilience means it won’t die until the setting of the sun, and presumably it is the source of the evil. Lars clumsily pins it to the wall with javelins, presumably so it can’t injure anyone with its flailing, then insists they go onwards. Inferian collapses in agony.

Calinai: Just keep doing what you’re doing, I’m just soaking in the delicious pain over here.
DM: Wow, this is an unintended consequence. It’s giving Calinai pleasure to watch your pain.
Lars: ‘Cuz if anybody else does anything Inferian didn’t initiate. Look man, we opened the door, there’s a half-man flailing around, people could get hurt, so I pinned it to the wall.
DM: Well, its head didn’t come off on its own.
Lars: No, but he’s still failing around, someone’s gonna get hit by him if they sneak past him.
Calinai: Yes, there’s a small kindergarten we have to worry about here… the class just roaming around.
Inferian: All I’m saying is, you’re committed to the idea of going down this passageway, you can take point.
Lars: I can’t take point, I can’t fit!

The group inexplicably descends into a discussion of potentially… unsavory movies. Benar advanced forward into the hall, being expendable, only to find arrow slits in the walls of the hall. They hear trolloc voices through the arrowslits!

Lars: Who wants to start attacking these trollocs out there through the arrowslits? We got total cover.
Calinai: I don’t have the spells. I could just Fiery Burst constantly…
Lars: I’ve got endless javelins…
Calinai: This is not a good idea.
DM: Calinai, you know what’ll make you happy? Turn to your right.
Calinai: (turning to see Inferian, who has been reduced to absolute agony by this suggestion) Yes. That’s a good amount of pain right there.
DM: Altogether, you have caused him so much more pain than my Far Side reference. And I thought the universe snapped on its axis when I said that, like I destroyed his entire world, but no. This is so much better.
Lars: Might I suggest we just go down here and confirm if this hallways connects to that door—
DM: It does!
Inferian: Knowledge thunders into your mind!

The Sedai and her Warder confirm through the mindlink that they are the ones who slew the half-men and the nearby trollocs. Lars advises that everyone come join him down the hallway.

DM: What, like all of his mooks and…
Lars: No, no, no. To me, his mooks are cannon fodder. I would have his mooks line up in the hallways and start shooting at trollocs through the arrow slits…

For the first time, Lars actually looks through the arrow slits to see what’s on the other side. The DM is delighted!

DM: You see, dimly—
Calinai: Wait, a dward, named Dimli?
DM: Yes, you see Dimli.
Lars: Son of Doofus.
DM: He’s holding the remaining seals in his hands. He shoves them through the arrow slits at you. “Here you are. Get out of here.”
Falgrim: “And here’s the horn!” This is the biggest pile of DM BS ever…

Calinai begs permission from Lars to advance the story; Lars stubbornly insists that he’s doing so by looking through the arrow slits. Calinai wails that she’s getting a stomachache from drinking Inferian’s pain. Lars then starts insisting they have to catch up with the Sedai, to everyone’s confusion.

Calinai: We know where the Sedai are. We don’t really need to catch up with them because we can talk to them through the link. “Hey where are you?” “We’re over here having se—uh, biscottis.” “Okay, you can have some spigottis.” I can’t say the word twice…
Inferian: Hey Calinai, what’s that great spell that answers questions from the gods?
Calinai: Shut up.

The group forces Calinai to say various words as they return to the rest area, meeting up with the Sedai and her Warder as they return as well. They seem untouched by their adventure except for a couple more bloodstains on Lann’s cloak.

Inferian: She has a spell that just puts her appearance right back to its original state, doesn’t she.
Lars: I think she does.
Falgrim: She probably does.
DM: She probably does. And she stands behind while Lann does all the work. Well, not all the work…
Inferian: Even so, one of those Formation Delta rocks ought to have caught her once. But no.
Lars: The sun is setting! I suggest we throw a bunch of your mooks at the cloud thing when it shows up. It’s okay, we’ll have more tomorrow!
Inferian: This class has actually made OTHER people more evil. This is great. I love how this guy who’s supposed to be incredibly anti-tyrant just wants to sacrifice my mooks for his own good.
Lars: No, I’m doing it for the greater good. It is better that they die than live as slaves!
Inferian: It is better that they die, than live. …as slaves.

Morian and Inferian briefly discuss whether they should rest or advance, and decide on the latter. Lars, who remember has been absurdly gung-ho to keep exploring, is now practically in tears begging for rest. Ignoring him, they start heading down the absurdly deep and steep stairs, which impresses no one because they’ve been on the DC Metro escalators. They roll Listen checks as they descend, and some of them hear the rhythmic thumping from before, leading them to explicitly recast the dungeon as Moria.

Inferian: “Do we risk a little light?”
Falgrim: I crack a sunrod in half, and drink its contents.
Inferian: HEAL HIM!
Falgrim: “I need a stomach pump.”
DM: Lars, as the rest of your group takes in the surroundings and looks about in the darkness—
Calinai: I was going to cast a Light spell, but okay, I guess we’re wandering around in the darkness.
Inferian: Sunrod! Falgrim cracked a sunrod!
DM: Evil! Evil!

Lars wanders off – out of character. He wanted to whiz, but got distracted by pie. The remaining PCs declare Delta Formation and retreat up the stairs, leaving Lars and Lann to die. Morian’s own senses lead her in a different direction; they assign a marching order and elect to follow Morian’s sense.

Inferian: We’re going to follow her instincts. Lars detected evil, that’s no indication of the seal, it just means our foes are that way. And we’d kinda like to get to the seal before we get to the foes. Plus Lars isn’t here to gainsay us.
DM: You’re taking advantage, are you?
Inferian: Damn straight.
Lars: (returns)
DM: TOO LATE!
Inferian: No, it’s been decided! Everyone committed!

Morian casts Dancing Lights, and everyone promptly breaks formation to Inferian’s anger. They trundle on ahead, everyone carefully watching Falgrim in case his stonecunning senses something with split-second timing. After ten minutes of marching, they come to a fork, pick one at random, and advance forward. Moving on, they hear what sounds to be numerous exhalations, and find many humanoid forms lying on the ground, slumped in the darkness, as their apparent sources. They appear to be the animated dead, albeit in a suspended state.

DM: The word goes out for all of you to creep past as stealthily as possible.
Lars: Oy…
DM: Falgrim, would you care to make the first roll? Lann eyes you and Lars up and down with sort of a raised eyebrow…
Falgrim: “Ya have ta kiss me first, lad.”
Treedon: So what shape should I take that would help me move quietly better?
DM: Maybe a whale.
Falgrim: 13!
Inferian: Great. You rolled better than Inferian.
DM: Did he really.
Inferian: 8.
Lars: Lars at least rolled a 10.

Inferian whacks a zombie with his longspear by accident, but it falls over and fails to waken! The dead continue to grow thicker as they step further in, until at last they reach the apparent limit of the passage.

DM: You have a pretty good view of the back wall here. It goes up pretty far, out of sight.
Inferian: Do we see a CROWBAR anywhere?
DM: You can roll a Search check!
Inferian: Benar rolls a 28.
DM: 28?! Benar shuffles his way over to where Falgrim and Lann at the front are surveying the front wall. Nudges you, turns you to look back from whence he came. In the lap of one of the dormant forms appears to be a slim length of metal.
Falgrim: Uh, that’s a big of a pickle. “Aaaah… that’s a lost crowbar.”
Inferian: 25 on Benar’s Sleight of Hand.
Calinai: You needed a 26.
DM: One more than you were able to roll.
Inferian: The one time that skill has come up in this entire campaign…

With nothing more to do, the party heads out of the zombie area, while the DM bemoans the lack of natural 1s on the sneaking checks. They head down the other path, only to hit a forming cloud of fog on the ground. Morain prepares a spell, while Inferian takes to the air over the fog. The fog attempts to surge after him, but he speeds past it and continues to map out the chamber, which proves to be completely uninteresting. Morain shrugs and says this must have been what she sensed, to everyone’s profound irritation.

DM: Falgrim drinks the contents of two of his sunrods.
Falgrim: “It’s DELICIOUS!”
DM: He goes blind. Antifreeze in the wine?!
Calinai: He’s getting his daily value of electrolytes.
Falgrim: “IT TASTES LIKE THE SUN!”

They approach a source of light in the darkness, spying a small opening in the cavern wall. On the floor past it, LOOT: piles of coins, weapon hilts, all sorts of goodies! They explode outwards to search the place, although many of them are expecting the inevitable dragon, mimic horde, or similar trap. Both the Sedai and her Warder have disappeared! ...and Calinai, as her player stubbornly insists on placing her directly behind Morain, staring at her back.

Calinai: I didn’t go rushing off. I thought he was behind us but apparently he ran rushing ahead of us.
Inferian: He did.
Lars: Whaddya mean I rushed ahead? I thought we were all at the entrance to this cavern.
Falgrim: No.
Lars: Ohhhhhh. Well, that’s my fault.
Falgrim: You were like, oooh, gold!
Inferian: I said “stay in formation” like a dozen times, you were like “nope! Running!”
Falgrim: And I took after you just to make sure you were safe.
Calinai: I’m okay! I’ve gone to Sedai heaven, where there’s books and things…
DM: You’ve done no such thing.
Inferian: I’m hurling a dispel in that direction where I last saw them.
DM: You’re hurling a spell?
Inferian: DISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSpel.

Treedon foolishly puts himself with the other casters and is gone as well. Only five are left: Lars, Benar, Falgrin, Inferian, and Sioneva. Someone slow-claps!

Lars: Slow-clap! Someone’s going to walk up on top of the gold.
Falgrim: Golbez! What are you doing here?!
Lars: “I am GAAAARL GLITTERGOLD!”
DM: It sounds as though it’s coming from behind you and all around, at once. A low but carrying voice, saying, “I thought you’d never show.” The four of you look around –
Inferian: Five.
DM: Five. Benar! Blindfolded.

A well-dressed figure appears some thirty feet away, sizing them up and down. He and Inferian immediately get into a squabble over terminology and petty details. The figure reveals his possession of a seal!

Falgrim: “Baby! I’ve been kissed by a rose from a –“ Get it? Seal? Musician?
Calinai: Shut up.

The group’s mind is blown, considering they appear to have found the missing seal from the old ruins ages ago, instead of a seal held by the city.

DM: “Perhaps we shall have a game.”
Treedon: “Oh boy.”
Inferian: “Are thrones involved?”
DM: Several of you HAVE died already.
Inferian: And winter IS coming.
DM: “What do you say?”
Inferian: “What game shall we play?”
DM: “I will attempt to riddle your group.”
Inferian: “With arrows?”
DM: With bullets. “If you can answer my riddles…”
Treedon: If the first two riddles are what is my name and what is my quest, I’m gonna quit.
DM: “I shall surrender the seal to you.”
Calinai: “And commit suicide.”
DM: “If you answer me wrongly, there will be consequences. But if you pass my test, I will surrender it without struggle. What say you?”
Lars: “Ask your question.”
DM: “Very well, the bargain is struck. Who speaks for your group?”
Lars: Lars opens his mouth but is quickly told through the psicrystal to shut the hell up.
Inferian: It doesn’t MATTER, we’re mindlinked.
Lars: “That was not part of your bargain before!”
Calinai: He has altered the deal, pray he does not alter in any further!

They argue over the details for a bit. But at last the challenge begins in earnest!

DM: “A precious gift, this. Yet it has no end or beginning. And in the middle, nothing.”

Silence.

Falgrim: Treedon! Secretly Google the question.
DM: (to Sioneva) You’re in there too, you can speak with them.
Sioneva: (who has been pointing at her ring for some time now, but since she’s seatged on the other side of the room, has gone unobserved) I know, I’m just trying to show them, but they’re not paying attention.
Falgrim: Then SAY something!
Sioneva: I took my ring off!
Inferian: That seems wise.
Falgrim: “Is that our final answer?”
Inferian: “No – no! Ohio!”
Calinai: “Do we have Ohio?” Ding!
Falgrim: Why is that the highest answer?
Inferian: Our survey asks only idiots.
DM: Glancing sideways at Sioneva, he slowly nods his head and congratulates you on your correct response.
Falgrim: How many questions are there? “Five hundred.” “Damn it!”
DM: He adopts a slightly amused expression and says, “Henceforth, feel free to speak your answers.” He once again slightly clears his throat, stiffens his posture, and says, “A strange earthen house that brings not but disdain, but those who stay there never do complain.”
Inferian: “Grave.”
DM: “Correct once again.”
Lars: He never said anything about more than one question!
Inferian: He said he would riddle us. With riddles.
Falgrim and Calinai: Plural.
Lars: Son of a bitch.
Calinai: What he didn’t tell you guys is that he has like a thousand of these.
DM: “Brought to the table, cut and served. Never eaten.”
Inferian: Out of character: THE CHEESE!

At a loss for an answer, the players attempt to do a fart wave. They struggle for a while, before Falgrim stumbles on the answer as a deck of cards.

DM: “Once more, you have seen through to the correct answer.” This time with an eyebrow raised, as he thought for a moment that this time he might have had you beaten. This time he slightly inclines his head towards you, in acceptance of a thought-out reply. He clears his throat again. “Buckets, barrels, baskets, cans. What must you fill with empty hands?”

The players, completely stuck, turn to bemoaning how terrible they are at riddles even as they’re thrilled to have this challenge. The PCs eventually settle on the guess of ‘lungs’, even as they are certain it’s wrong.

DM: “A just and intelligent reply… but wrong.”
Falgrim: “Then what was it?”
DM: “The answer ‘twas ‘gloves’.”
All: Aaaahhhhhhhhh.
DM: As he speaks the word gloves, all of you feel a screeching pain in your minds.
Inferian: Knowledge(psionics)?! (rolling the first check of this sort in the entire campaign with obvious delight) …I don’t know why I rolled percentile dice. It’s been so long I forgot how. 25.
DM: It comes to you even as you feel this pain, this is a quasi-magical effect more akin to a psionic power. The actual screeching noise is manifesting as subdual damage. 20 points for all of you. He clears his throat. “I shall move on. Now you know the consequences for an incorrect reply. These consequences will become more severe with each wrong reply. Ahem. Everyone offers this thing, but few will take it when it is offered by someone else.”
Inferian: Advice.
DM: “Very good. I had hoped you would not fail…”
Lars: You think he has a strong willpower, this guy we’re facing?
Inferian: Stop trying to charm him.
Lars: I’m not gonna charm him, I was gonna cast Hold Person. Run up and steal it.
DM: “You have done well. You have come to the middle of my challenge. I will offer you this chance to turn back.”
Inferian: Nope.
Sioneva: Nope.
Falgrim: Riiiiiight.
DM: “Excellent. Ah-he-hem. Has a tongue, but never talks. Has no legs, but often walks.”
Inferian: Shoe.
DM: He’s not pretty much directly staring down Inferian when he posits questions.
Inferian: Hey, Sioneva’s gotten two!
DM: Yes, but it’s the smug manner with which you answer them. “It can pierce the best armor, crumbles swords with a rub. Yet for all its power, it cannot harm a club.”
Lars: “Rust.”

Benar’s failure to offer any answers as a tool of the Dragon is overtly lampshaded.

DM: “The chill of its death you may soon mourn. But though it dies, it can never be born.”
Sioneva: “Fire.”
DM: “So you speak once more. Your combined intellect should win you the seal, if this continues. But you are not yet finished. A-he-hem. The one who made it didn’t want it. The one who bought it didn’t need it. The one who used it never saw it.”
Inferian: Slave child on a plantation.
Sioneva: No, I think it’s a—
Inferian and Sioneva: Coffin.
Calinai: No… I’m sticking with slave child…
DM: “Correct once more.You are come now to the final question.”
Lars: I say we get it wrong on purpose.
Inferian: This one counts for twice the rest of them combined.
Falgrim: “What is in my pocket?” Oh come on.

The NPC offers them one more shot to back out. They obviously refuse.

DM: “You can see it in winter, never in summer. Even though it is as light as a feather, the mightiest dwarf in the north can’t hold it for long.”
Lars: “Breath.”
DM: “So, after all this time, visitors have come and will leave with what they came for.”
Lars: “You chose…. Poorly….”
Falgrim: “Now choose your prize. Left or right hand.”
DM: From behind his back, he produces the seal once more, and proffers it.
Falgrim: “Try to take it from my—“ Oh god, this is the Reflex save. Benar, get your ass up there.

Lars, very cautiously, accepts the seal and backs away, but the NPC offers them looting rights to the piles of gold and treasure!

Calinai: Oh my god, you can’t do that. It’s Aladdin! It’ll turn to lava and start chasing you! You can only touch the seal!

There’s too much money to carry away all 50,000 gold, but they try to get what they can. Falgrim tries to pin down just who this NPC is, but gets no useful information out of it, while Inferian fires a riddle back at him. Against their better judgment, they allow Lars to carry the seal still.

Inferian: He’s going to strap it to his wang, offer it to the queen…

The DM at last describes Lann and Morain seizing the missing PCs and casting a spell over them to enshroud them. They had overheard things through the mindlink, but stayed hidden until the encounter was over. Reunited, they head for the stairs to get the hell out of there!

DM: I didn’t try to make the riddles difficult enough that you couldn’t come up with the answers. There’s only one out of the ten that you answered incorrectly.
Calinai: The hint should have been “OJ”.