The game opens with the players mocking the DM’s name. The DM reminds them of the chanting, rhythmic nature of the dwarven kingdom… and how hard that it will make it to sleep.

Brunt: It’s like a kingdom full of Mickey’s broomsticks, all in locksticks!

The DM allows them to adjudicate how well they sleep. Cruroar manages to sleep, if not perfectly.

Cruroar: Feels like a Monday.
Brunt: You wish it were a fun day.
Cruroar: All right, guys, we have go to report our findings—
Brunt: No, first you have to knock on my door and tell me these things. You are in your own room. We paid gold for our own rooms.
Cruroar: I go to the dwarven intercom. “Beeep!” The intercom only works in time with the beat.

Tasha realizes she hasn’t gotten her share of the loot and is horrified! They head out of the inn, much the worse for wear.

DM: Seeing your haggard forms stagger on down, the innkeep does provide a free glass of brew with your breakfast. “On the house,” he says.
Cruroar: “Much appreciated.” What is this, some kind of weird energy drink, or is it just standard beer?
DM: It’s beer, it’s a dwarven energy drink.
Normilan: (Popeye theme)
Cruroar: I got my gifts and tourist stuff out of the way.
Brunt: That’d be awesome, when the guys downstairs [in the apartment complex] comes up and knocks on the door, we could all start chanting when you open it. He will never come up here and knock again. He might call the cops, but he will not knock on the door again.
Cruroar: You have to open the door with the line, “No guys, it’s not my blood in the pentagram this time.
Brunt, Normilan, and DM: (chanting) Duraz Ardhul, Duraz Ardhul…
Brunt: And as you open the door you can beckon him in!
Brunt, Normilan, and DM: (chanting and making beckoning motions) Duraz Ardhul, Duraz Ardhul…
Brunt: I get the most wicked ideas when I’ve had a good day. If that’s not enough to weird him out, we could sprinkle in the word, ‘sacrifice’.

Actually, the combined chanting sounded pretty awesome. Brunt, having gained some perspective with distance in time, mentions other things they might want to consider doing.

Brunt: We could try to take on the minotaur chief, stop the minotaur raids. Looking over the game report… you know, without all the heckling and stuff actually going on, like wow. Stopping the raids is probably something we should do, even if it involves helping someone we would rather not.
Cruroar: How would we stop the human raids, bringing that one guy to power?
Brunt: If he comes to power, he implied the raids would stop. Because that’s something that Gurk is spearheading, and Mooooooooooooooooooar said that’s something that’s hurting us. Because y’all are killing us, or it’s like bringing attention on us that will get more of us killed.
Normilan: Let’s bring it up with Slamhand. Send some troops out.
Brunt: Clean house in the minotaur maze?

The discussion turns meta, as the players believe the DM really wants them to do it and wouldn’t kill them… or maybe it’s a thing they shouldn’t do, and they do anyway.

Brunt: If we DON’T do them, he lambastes us for not doing them.
Normilan: Right, we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t.

They realize, however, that the labyrinth is now WAY out of their way and they have no decent way back to it. Brunt calls the dwarven kingdom a silly place, then vows to level off the fifty dwarves that try to kill him.

Brunt: “Swing away, NPC dwarves!”
DM: “We can’t hit him! Son of a – aah, hell with it, flood the lift.”

They head for, and board, the lift. Somehow this simple task becomes ominious.

Tasha: Dude. This is Willy Wonka’s lift.
Brunt: Aww shit, we’re going all kinds of places.
Tasha: You guys wanna go up and out?
Cruroar: We don’t know where this lift is going!
Normilan: Come with me, and you’ll see…
Cruroar: It’s like the boat from Willy Wonka, the walls are going CRAZY…
DM: No. The dwarf was choked on the way up. And one of you will blamed if you don’t catch the real culprit.
Cruroar: If that dwarf dropped dead right now, I will incinerate his body. I’d be like, he got off before we got here, he was like, “you guys can make it on your own.”
DM: How would you incinerate his body?
Cruroar: I don’t know. I would keep blasting his corpse until it was gone!
DM: The door opens up and you’re just frantically blasting the dwarf corpse…

The players begin laboriously planning a Weekend At Bernie’s incident. As they escape the chanting and the gong, and finally the clatter of the lift ceases, the whole world seems to stop because it’s SO QUIET.

Cruroar: That’s when we finally open our mouths to talk. “FINALLY WE’RE OUT!!!!!”
DM: The dwarf collects your earmuffs.
Brunt: We paid for those!
Cruroar: No, he gave them for free.
DM: He deposits them back into the containers in the elevator.
Normilan: Oh man, he doesn’t even clean them after use?
Cruroar: What disease did I acquire? Be honest with me.
DM: Roll a Fortitude save if you really want one.
Cruroar: No!
DM: You were begging! Does anybody else want to roll a save vs. disease against the earmuffs?
Normilan: Why the hell would I want to do that?

They head down the path, as the dwarves wave them off. They approach the guardpost!

Cruroar: “Hello, dwarves!”
Brunt: Why did you just heil them?!

Cruroar inquires about Tasha, and hears that Tasha had just turned around without going through.

Brunt: What? Did you sneak past them?
Cruroar: Yeah, she put on the invisibility cloak, so they don’t know she went through—
Normilan and DM: The invisibility BLANKET.
Cruroar: Blanket, I’m sorry.
DM: I felt safe allowing that precedent, because it can never be abused in any way practical.

The PCs amusingly play out their confusion as to where Tasha could be. Knowing perfectly well OOC that Tasha left her armor behind, Cruroar insists they look around and find some clues. The DM calls for Spot checks.

Brunt: There you go, there’s your Spot check.
Cruroar: Roll again!
Brunt: No, I’m not, that’s what I’m keeping.
Cruroar: You didn’t roll! You threw the dice.
Brunt: That’s what rolling is. You can transcribe that! As soon as I said it, I knew he would transcribe this one.

They spot Tasha’s armor hidden behind a scraggly bush! Brunt, who of course rolled a natural 1, sees what he believed to be blood splattered on the cliff face there!

Brunt: “She must have been killed, or injured!”
Cruroar: “Well it’s kind of weird they would hit her and then neatly bundle up her stuff and not take it with them?”
Brunt: “Perhaps this is all that remains of her.”
Cruroar: “…that’s weird.”
Normilan: Knowledge(arcane) to figure out a spell that would do such a weird thing to her!
DM: Disintegrate.
Normilan: Doesn’t that affect armor?
DM: Nope, it leaves the loot behind.
Brunt: Does anyone else see what I see!?

They question the dwarves as to whether they heard the commotion, but the dwarves only report that they heard noises down by the dragon’s cave! They decided to head down that way.

DM: “Before ye pass I must see the color of your coin.”
Brunt: That’s right, they double-dip! The dwarves get a cut of the shakedown. That’s why Tasha became invisible in the first place, because she’s like, “I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do. I’m not gonna pay them to brand me and I’m not gonna pay the dwarves to walk through their hallway…”
DM: “Nay, nay, ye misunderstand. We take no coin from the dragon, he’d not allow it. We merely make sure ye do have the coin. For if someone goes down and does not have the proper coin to pay, the dragon grows most wroth and it ends in bloodshed for many.”
Cruroar: “That’s good to know…”

They confirm that they have the coin, and bidding the dwarves farewell, head down to the bugbear gatepost. Paying their fee, they are allowed in.

DM: “Touch nothing.”
Cruroar: “Y’all sell souvenirs here?”
DM: “No.”
Brunt: They’re in good humor compared to when Tasha went through…
Cruroar: Well she did run the place.
Brunt: That’s right. “I’m here to give you an inspection.”
Tasha: Oh please tell me you have heightened security. Like there’s archer bugbears on the cliffs…
DM: Dude, your lame-ass attempt to get through was not worth heightened security.
Brunt: One of you guys take these manacles, put them on me, we’ll do the Wookie prisoner again…

In they head. They see the Gatekeeper sitting on his treasure pile, watching them, as they enter.

Tasha: He is picking his teeth with what looks like a Rod of Extend.
Cruroar: “Greetings, lord dragon. Do you have time to speak?”
DM: “I prefer more groveling.”
Cruroar: “Oh, allow me!”
Brunt: That’s not very good…
Cruroar: No, I rolled a 5. My Diplomacy takes it up to a 19.
DM: Save your ass with roleplay, Cruroar!
Cruroar: I bow as much as possible.
Normilan: (miming Cruroar falling over)
Cruroar: “Do you have but a moment to answer a humble’s questions?”
DM: “Are there any humble humans amongst you? Not that I can see…”
Cruroar: “Well, half-human would be the most appropriate term.”
DM: “You, Dragonslayer, are not the interesting one among us.”
Brunt: Oh! Oh!
Cruroar: “Oh, I hope that one wasn’t yours. That would make this conversation very, um… not good?”
DM: “If it was mine, I would have been the first to congratulate you for eliminating a weak and feeble progeny of mine. Instead I’m merely amused, to see another pretender to my throne fall.”
Cruroar: “You have a lot of competition?”
DM: “Every dragon is competition to every other dragon… now, or in time…”
Tasha: There can be only one
Brunt: “But surely a great wyrm as yourself has little in the way of serious rivals.”
DM: “And such a way of thinking is one that would lead to my downfall. It is true I have no draconic rivals… yet.”
Cruroar: “Such… long-lived as yourself would know of the god of prophecy, for oddly enough we have received word of it, and from what everyone has told us, he has not spoken in a long time. But perhaps you have heard him speak in your great life.”
DM: “Oh, many times. I’m quite familiar with his last word for mortals. But that’s a tale you should take up with the half-elf’s master, not me.”
Cruroar: (after a moment) Oh! He knows a lot!
Normilan: “What do you know of Lord Tyraen?”
DM: “Oh, we all know of Tyraen.”
Normilan: (bitterly) “Everybody but me.”
DM: “I’m impressed he took on a student. It seems a very clever way for him to get around his obligations… his duties. But then perhaps I shouldn’t speak too much of that.”
Brunt: I wish to hear more.
DM: Then let me tell you!
Cruroar: We get the fourth option. “Would you like to hear more?”
DM: Unfortunately your only options are, “OK” and “I don’t understand”, and if you choose “I don’t understand” he repeats himself from the beginning.
Normilan: “Why the increase?”
DM: “Because I can.”
Normilan: “That is it?”
DM: “Well you see, the dwarves will have no choice but to pay, as will the merchants who come to visit the dwarves. There is much afoot in the world. You are more the center of it than you know. Or perhaps you have some inkling.”
Brunt: Alone one will stand, blade and staff in hand… Duraz Ardhul…

The dragon takes a moment to be smug, telling them he magically investigates his visitors out of curiosity (and to prevent robbery). Cruroar finally inquires about Tasha.

DM: “She hid under a cloak of invisibility and a spell of silence, and was interested in taking from me. I ate her.”
Cruroar “….oh.” Who has a decent enough Sense Motive to break this!?
Tasha: Outside of gaming? Well-played. Seriously.
Normilan: “You ate her?! What did she do to deserve that?!”
DM: “Nothing, I’m joking. But it was fun to watch your facial expressions.”
Tasha: Aww man, it would’ve been great if they thought he ate me, and then I just saw them and went “Hey guys!”
Cruroar: “GHOST! It’s a goddamn ghost!”
Normilan: “Kill it kill it!”
Tasha: Throw a warhammer at it.

The PCs grudgingly admit that the dragon has quite successfully gotten a rise out of them. Brunt inquires if there is anything that could persuade him to return the tolls to their former price.

DM: “Defeat the great evil that rises in the east. You’ll probably do that eventually, unless the prophecy is wrong.”
Brunt: “What more could you tell us of this evil, if you are so inclined?”
DM: Alone one will stand!
DM and Brunt: Blade and staff in hand!
DM: The dragon considers for a long time. “I rarely bargain with those who pass through. But perhaps you’d be willing to offer me something, and I will offer you something.”
Brunt: “I do not know what I possess that would be of value to you.”
DM: “You’d be surprise what I value. Make me an offer and I’ll restore to you an equal amount.”
Brunt: (whipping out clippers) “Manicure?”
DM: “FINALLY! You see these cuticles?!”

The group huddles, trying to figure out what they could offer and bemoaning their lack of tapestries. Brunt attempts to talk to him in Abyssal, then offers to write his biography. Normilan tells him of his experience with Tyraen! In exchange, the dragon casts a spell which apparently just kills Normilan. What it actually does is get an unseen servant to bring them a piece of wood!

Normilan: I imagine it looks like a staff.
DM: No, it looks like a giant-ass splinter of wood. As you take it, it is black, it is unfathomably solid.
Brunt: I try to break it over my knee.
DM: Dude, don’t do that.
Brunt: It’s a staff of the magi!
DM: No! I’m just telling you right now your knee will come out the loser in this.

The dragon sends them on, bidding them give greetings to royalty and advising Brunt that if he kills the green dragons, he’ll get a promotion. They head out the other side and down the path, reaching a hill dwarf town! Guards greet them at the guardpost, and when asked, tell them that Tasha is indeed in town!

Cruroar: “This way?”
DM: “Aye… aye, that is where town is. You can in fact see it. It starts about thirty feet over there, where ye’re pointing.”
Brunt: (giggling furiously) Stop, DM!
Cruroar: I didn’t think it was that close!
DM: No! You interpreted randomly!
Cruroar: As you can see, I’m very nearsighted. I can’t see towns that are thirty feet away from me.
DM: I’ll keep that in mind next time you roll a ranged attack roll.
Cruroar: God damn you. Towns. I specifically said I can’t see TOWNS 30 feet away from me. So if I’m shooting at a TOWN we can have a discussion!

Tasha is drunk at a bar and trying to seduce the shoe tree under the belief that it’s a dwarf. They finally find her as she crashes to the floor in the bar, causing enough noise that they investigate.

Brunt: “Innkeep.”
DM: “Ah, are you friends with her?”
Normilan and Brunt: “Uhhhhhhhhhhh…..”
Eilnys: “We know her.”

The group reluctantly douses Tasha into a little more sobriety and folds him back into the party with some greetings all around.

Tasha: “You didn’t by chance happen to find my armor—“
Brunt: (dumping it on the table)
Tasha: “Oh thank you.”
DM: “Milady! Milady! The weapons and armor ye requested are ready at the blacksmith’s!” says the little blacksmith’s apprentice as he runs up, having finally found you.
Normilan: Smack the shit out of him.
DM: “Come with me and we’ll have them fitted… er, what are ye holdin’?”
Tasha: “I didn’t order nothin’.” …Crap! I’m Good. “I thought it was lost but my friends brought it back.”
DM: The apprentice sort of fidgets with his hands. “But ye did order it, and the blacksmith made it special for ya! He’s my master, milady, ye wouldn’t be so hard as to take good hard coin from him, will ya?”

Eilnys heads back with the apprentice in an attempt to defuse this, while the blacksmith huffs and is angry. They pay for the breastplate and then literally drag Tasha away from the blacksmith before she can insult his works, which she is very, very intent on doing. Normilan actually has to grapple her to hold her mouth shut.

DM: You are being dragged bodily out of the shop and down the street. A group of people has actually paused in their goings-on to watch this, as a screaming woman is trying to yell something as a mage slaps a hand over her mouth. You yell into his hand, your words do not come out clearly. Cruroar keeps up a loud din.
Normilan: “She’s had too much grog. Nothing to see here!”

Cruroar mispronounces Normilan’s name, causing him to despair. They get out of town, realize they have no transportation, and go back in to purchase a wagon and the materials necessary to caulk it. Off they head, though the wagon is incredibly uncomfortable transit. They immediately stop, get a bale of hay.

Normilan: “How much for a bale hay?”
DM: “Thirty gold!”
Normilan: (slapping the dude) “HOW MUCH. FOR HAY.”

They head down the mountain and are promptly assaulted but a horrible storm, as they wail about Hurricane 2. Back they head on their monthlong journey!

Cruroar: What happened to that one lady we found in the one town?
DM: She said she was going back to the capital.
Cruroar: Oh okay. We’ll get to see her again.
DM: Maybe. It’s a big capital.
Cruroar: WE’LL GET TO SEE HER AGAIN.
DM: You find her dead on the side of the road.
Eilnys: God damn it!
Cruroar: We got to see her again!
Tasha: Where’s the little boy that was with her?
DM: Part of a human centipede now.
Cruroar: Really? You had to go there?
DM: Yes. If you challenge me, I’ll respond. He’s in the middle. The elven princess is on the one end… and Zook is the end.

Dead silence. Like impressive dead silence.

DM: Wow. The perfect look of pain on Cruroar’s face. Wow.

The journey is mostly uneventful, no thanks to Tasha and thanks to everyone but Tasha.

Tasha: Tasha has one or two encounters with married men along the way. …what?
Cruroar: No. We have a watch, and we have a Tasha watch.
Tasha: Come on, why’s everyone gotta hate on Tasha, man!
Cruroar: We saw what you do on your own! What happens? You make a blanket invisible, you attempt to steal from a dragon, you get wasted at a local pub.
Eilnys: And you flirt with a fucking tree.
Cruroar: We have a Tasha watch.
DM: Roll your Hide, Tasha.
Tasha: My Hide? What?
DM: To get past the Tasha watch.

Tasha is unable to evade the watch and fumes, while the group sighs over how much gold they have to spend on barring her windows. By the time they reach the great river, Tasha sees fit to explain herself.

Tasha: I took my character creation tips from Iglar. He said, pick something, and just give that to their character. They’re narcoleptic. They drink too much. They have to sing all the time, but they’re off-key.
Cruroar: There’s your problem.

They spot Sir Krostun’s army encamped on the banks of the river, and are delighted! Attention briefly wanders to Marros, who is apparently dead.

DM: He died doing what he loved: Men. You head towards the camp. You see a couple of the watchmen take note of you.
Cruroar: “You don’t need to see our identification.”
DM: As you approach, one of them calls out, “Who approaches the camp of the army of Sir Krostun!”
Normilan: “Friends of Sir Krostun.”
DM: He pauses, as you draw a bit closer. And then continues. “If you … seek Sir Krostun, he is in town.”
Brunt: “Where in town?”
DM: “At court….?”
Cruroar: “Let us proceed to court, then!”
Normilan: “Thank you, soldier. Godspeed.”
DM: “Blessings upon you, Normilan.”
Normilan: How does he know who I am? Do I recognize this soldier?
DM: His visor is down.
Normilan: “Who is this?” Make up a name, DM…
DM: Recognizing he’s made an error, the soldier warily lifts up his visor. You recognize the face. The last time you saw this face, he was attempting to rough you up way back in Spindlethrift.
Brunt and Cruroar: Ohhhhhhhh.
Normilan: “Glad to see you’ve come around.”
DM: He isn’t sure what to say. He looks down at the ground, kicks a pebble with his foot.
Normilan: “How’s Spindlethrift, when you last saw it?”
DM: “Well. When Sir Krostun defended it from the army of the creatures that were coming from the east, some of his men fell. We joined up with him.”
Normilan: “Good to hear.”
DM: “It seemed… only proper.”
Tasha: “Normilan, you know this man? Was Normilan always the ladies’ man at home he was here?”
Cruroar: I AM SINGLE. I don’t have family in this one.
Normilan: “Good to see a familiar face. Carry on.”
Brunt: “Speak for yourself.”

Tasha attempts to leap off the wagon to go get a drink, after encouraging Normilan to rat out the soldier’s past to his captain. The group legitimately debates manacling or hobbling Tasha. For the first time in months, they head home and split up! Normilan bathes, then heads to court to see Zook and gift him with the pure iron ingot. Normilan relates the tale of their adventures, and in turn Zook says that various monsters and humanoids are attacking the eastern borders! Brunt heads in to give his report, and abruptly notices a guard with ONLY ONE ARM!

Normilan: CHASE HER DOWN like we did in the town!
Brunt: It’s Lal! I go find her!
DM: Forgetting all thoughts of reporting in, you turn on your heel!
Brunt: Yep!
Normilan: Insubordination!
Brunt: Keep the sarcastic comments coming, I’m just gonna soak ‘em up now instead of being cynical about it.
DM: Captain Slamhand comes up—
Brunt: Yep! I throw down my badge! I toss my badge in his teeth!
DM: And throw him out a window!
Brunt: I dungeoncrash the entire castle!
DM: It moves! Oh no, that was just enough to tip it over the cliff on which it sits! It plummets into the river!
Brunt: What level am I now?
DM: Level 13 Blackguard.

Brunt calls out her name, and she stops in surprise. She has been inducted into the Slamhands (the organization, not the prestige class) out of grim necessity to provide for her son. As Brunt heads in to report properly, it gets really weird and musical.

Brunt: “This is the end of the road, Slamhand.”
DM: “Why slam away your life so recklessly?”
Brunt: “That’s a question you should ask yourself, Krogatron.”
DM: “I’ll dungeoncrash out your optics!”
Brunt: With sharp sticks and pistols and lightsabers?
Cruroar: Well this train sure got derailed into a wall…

Brunt gives his report, which Captain Slamhands views as valuable intelligence.

DM: “You’ve done well. I’ll see you commended for this.”
Normilan: I commend you. Dismissed!

Cruroar takes his souvenirs to share with his girlfriend, while Eilnys brings the adamantite to Durm. Durm gushes out profuse thanks in a reverent tone, then begins laughing madly at how certainly he shall win the contest! Tasha… attempts to drown her sorrows, as the game comes to a close.

Normilan: Look, you can… STOP following Iglar’s advice…