Oh snap racist game! Last time, the PCs had entered into a cavern deep beneath the dwarven kingdom with a great topaz dragon in it. Davlamar proposes changing his character’s name to “Glomgold”. Or “Glumgold”, as he keeps saying it, I’m not sure what he was going for here.

DM: There’s beautiful tapestries on the walls—
Davlamar: (laughing) Thank you!
DM: There’s red carpet leading across the floor that is at least 20 feet across.
Davlamar: We could have our own red carpet
DM: Everything is old, tattered, but what you can see is that everything is done with incredible precision and an ornate touch.

The cavern is massive and dark! Even with the light source they have.

DM: It was like… Blinking Lights, I think?
Drengar: Dancing Lights?
DM: Dancing Lights. Thank you.
Drengar: Strobe effect. “This is the fucking most annoying spell in the world!”
DM: What you see on the far side of the room is a gigantic – the only reason you can see this, it’s a great wyrm topaz dragon—
Cain: Well, there goes this game.
DM: The only reason you can see him is because there’s a hole in the ceiling where natural light is shining in. Literally like a beam of god.
Cambrian: Why do I hear “revenge for the Gatekeeper” in every word he speaks?
DM: It is a sea of black between you and the dragon.
Davlamar: Well, we can’t miss! Fire away, ranged weapons!

The DM lays on the flavor text about this dragon for a while. The players lapse into mild madness.

Davlamar: You know how much that much topaz is worth? Let’s go loot it.
Cain: I would advise against it.
Davlamar: What would you advise?
Cain: Us not to wake that up.
Davlamar: How would you suggest we go about that, O Cain the Great, the Wise and Worthy, O Grand Poobah Cain…
Connor: Even if I could run up and start whacking at the dragon, I would still miss with the rolls I make.

They ponder what to do, which Cambrian contributes to by constantly playing a sound effect of people comically running away. Realizing the dragon is already well aware of their presence, they accept they must attempt to pass. Their footsteps thunder!

DM: After about thirty or forty feet, you notice the dragon on the other end pick its head up.
Cambrian: Prostrate yourselves respectfully PROSTRATE YOURSELVES RESPECTFULLY!
Lydanna: Is that what you’re doing?
Cambrian: I’m dropping to a knee!
Davlamar: I’m gonna do what one of your characters would do, I’m gonna pretend not to see the dragon! Shut my eyes and whistle a merry tune!
DM: As you drop to your knees, please roll a Diplomacy!
Cambrian: I quickly craft the Rune of Dragonpleasing.
DM: The dragon is pleased!
Cain: And a happy topaz dragon in this world eats its victims!
Cambrian: Damn it!

The dragon lets out a little breath of flame, which dramatically lights a brazier, which in turn lines the room in fire! Statues have fire at their bases! Fire everywhere! Everyone immediately starts clapping.

DM: “Which one of you carries my tainted runes? I can smell it.
Cambrian: What runes am I carrying again?
Davlamar: The taint runes.
Cain: Is that where runes come from, the dragon’s poop?

The rune in question is the one that the dwarven king gave them, the one that ‘started all their problems’.

Cain: “The king of the dwarven land gave me this rune.
Cambrian: “Oh great and powerful dragon, you speak of this rune being tainted! I ask as a scholar of runes, clarify for my insignificant intellect!”
Davlamar: Humble Aibghalien chats up the dragon.
DM: “Seven of these were created. Seven of these were meant to guard mortal life. Six have gone missing. Mine was amongst them.”
Cain: “The dwarf king said this came in a package, it was given to him.”
DM: “It matters not or who had the rune. It matters now that it is here. Bring it.”
Cain: Aww great, it’s in my hand. I’ll take the long walk.
Cambrian: I’ll take it if you want me to.
Cain: I’m already walking.

Cambrian explicitly calls the runes the Dragon Balls of the campaign. As Cain steps forward, the dragon bids him place the rune on an altar before him.

Cambrian: Cast Altar Self.
DM: It just sits on top. As the dragon takes a large deep breath… “I suggest… it is in your best interest to move.”
Cain: “Oh-kay!” What he doesn’t realize is that at that particular moment I had gained +200 to my movement speed. I am outside the cave.
DM: As the dragon prepares to tell you to move again, he realize that your silhouette is nothing but a cloud of smoke in the shape of your body.

The dragon stands up, glowing with light that begins to make all the lights and the gems in the room glow as well. Cambrian attempts to scribe a rune and is beaten with a stick.

DM: He looks up at the ceiling and breathes a jet of flame so intense that the flame is almost pure white. As it hits the ceiling, it spreads out across the ceiling. The gems on the side of the walls actually begin to absorb the light.
Cambrian: A 20 on Knowledge(arcana) to try to remember if topaz dragons actually breathe flame.
DM: I don’t f—ng know, dude.
Cain: (beats Cambrian)
Cambrian: What’s that for?! It’s legitimate!
DM: Whatever it is that topaz dragons breathe – ha, watch it be acid.

The DM grumbles that he has no idea what the hell topaz dragons breathe and they go checking the Monster Manual. It turns out to be a cone of dehydration. They call it a spell that changes his breath weapon type and call it good. The room glows in light that goes through the colors of the rainbow.

DM: After a few minutes, it stops. Sitting on the altar is the same rune as it was before. The dragon then looks at you and kind of smiles.
Cain: “Eat the rune.” “Oh why sure!”
DM: You THINK it’s a smile. “Come. Come to me, heroes. I knew ye’d be coming one day. But bless me, I did not know you’d be bringing back the runes.”
Davlamar: Did he call us heroes?
Cambrian: Kinda slurred that word, so I’m not sure.
Cain: WHO IS HE TALKING TO!?
Davlamar: Did he say “come to me, Marros?”
DM: Heroes.
Cain: Oh, I thought he said “Cruroas!”

The symbol on the rune has changed completely! The dragon explains that he was charged to guard the dwarves by Boccob himself!

Cambrian: Out of character, I’ll point out that he’s the god notorious for not giving a shit about anything.
Davlamar: H the Alone!
Cambrian: Formation Delta, ya asshole!

The dragon says that his brother had stolen the runes, but by returning it they had saved the dwarves from eternal damnation! Cain realizes that the way the humans have brands on their necks as the dwarves did, and that a connection must exist. The dragon doesn’t give a crap about anything but the dwarven rune, though.

DM: “It was stolen. Stolen by a dark brother. Obsidian dragon.”
Cambrian: (stupid voice) Those aren’t real.
Drengar: SHUT YOUR FACE!
Cambrian: That was not in-character!
DM: Was, or was not?
Cambrian: WAS NOT! Didn’t you hear the stupid in my voice?
Drengar: You’re not playing Crenallation Cop-a-feel.

They ask about the mysterious watching demon that appears every night. The dragon explains it is his brother’s watcher, and that their coming was expected.

DM: “Your existence is a cycle. Eventually, whether you succeed or fail is irrelevant, though if you fail the world falls to darkness. Then life will cycle to darkness. If you succeed, life will cycle in the light. But there is always a cycle.”

The dragon formally charges them with their quest. They are to find the other runes, thereby solving everything! Now it agrees to take questions.

Cambrian: “Can I have the instruction manual to the runes?”
Davlamar: “Is there any way you can make that one mute? We miss our friend!”
Cain: “Bring our friend back!”

There’s more, though! The dragon commands them to collect the runes, and find the goddess Talia, now born into mortal form. The dragon grimly reports that his job had been to keep the demons of bay, which he cannot do if the runes are not in balance.

Cain: (gasping) The seven pillars from the Legacy of Cain universe!

If the other runes are corrupt, they must find each race’s keeper to purify them!

Cain: I call halfling first.
Davlamar: (singing) Don’t you know…
Cambrian: I believe he was implying that we should—
Cambrian and Cain: ALL go.
Drengar: Nope. See ya!
Davlamar: “Don’t like Halflings!”
Cain: What they didn’t realize is, Cain had the donkey that had all the runes.
Cambrian: The runes was us… the entire time.
Davlamar: (whacks Cambrian)
Cambrian: Oh, why?!
DM: The dragon blesses you with a +10 to all your stats for killing that one!

Davlamar cheerfully hits the dragon up for money and loot. The dragon offers them ‘whatever is left’ in a side room.

Davlamar: A masterwork spear!
Cambrian: Tapestriieeeeeees!
Davlamar: That’s the only thing he has to look at in here, even I’m not gonna take that from him.
Cambrian: It turns out they’re just covering up the dragon porn. WHOA!

They find a looted treasury within that room and scrape up the leavings out of barrels and end tables. They find a few things and some money, and divvy it all up. The dragon lets him know there is a passage behind him that will lead out.

DM: “It’s about a day and a half travel.”
Davlamar: How does he know that if he’s never been outside his chamber?
Drengar: Shhhhhh!
DM: “Before you go, I bless you all.”

The characters are fully refreshed in all forms! Cain also gets a +2 buff to his Dexterity in rune form. THE DM ADMITS HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING! WE HAVE PROOF! EVIDENCE FOREVER! The idea of making a soundboard out of a former group member cripples everyone. The group leaves and heads up the tunnel… only to find a snowstorm awaiting them when they reach the cave mouth, and seven inches of snow on the ground. They send Cain out to roll Survival for hunting!

Cain: 26!
Cambrian: You don’t need to go far.
Cain: There’s probably rats and stuff near the entrance of the cave.
Cambrian: Deer go through store! ….store?
Cain: Good idea, we’re gonna catch a jeer coming out of a store?
Cambrian: A jeer?
Davlamar: Don’t take this the wrong way, but could you speak in sentence fragments more often, because that was great.
Cambrian: That wasn’t even a fragment, I just forgot the last two words.
Drengar: You’re hunting for jeer! You hear their mating call. “Oy vey!”

The DM calls for a Listen check from Cain, and then a Spot check.

DM: You barely dive out of the way as a boar tears past you, coming out of the rustling brushes!
Davlamar: Solo battle! Glomgold is chilling in the cavern.
Drengar: Meanwhile, back in the cave… “Stay back! I have power! Political powers!”
DM: Make your move.
Cain: Whip out the bow and shoot it.
DM: “’Scuse me while I whip this out.”
Cambrian: I’ll whip out the bow, and shoot… the bow.

Cain shoots the boar, hitting it in the shoulder. Blood spatters the snow! It charges Cain, but misses. In the background, the Chariots of Fire serves as the battle tune! It is very inappropriate. Cain shoots again!

DM: Unless a 4 hits you…
Cain: No. Maybe Cruroar…

The boar takes another shot! But it doesn’t drop him!

Davlamar: It’s My Little Boary. It’s Sepboaroth.
Cain: Boars have Diehard. They can keep fighting till -9.
Davlamar: Jeez, maybe one of my characters should take that feat.
DM: 10 points of damage, as its tusk pierces you, directly into the shin.
Davlamar: Could use some of that dehydration breath right now…

Cain Tumbles out of the way and shoots the boar again!

DM: The boar squeals in anger! Blood is pouring, you can see the lifeblood of the animal strewing itself all over the pure white snow. Squealing in pain, squealing in anger, it makes what must be its final attack and charges for you!
Cambrian: So this thing has taken three arrows and is still attacking. You know who that makes it? BOARomir!

Cain, of all people, cracks up at this. The DM attempts to quit.

Davlamar: You know, while you sit in the pit of hell, every one of your puns is going to be used to torture you for eternity. Some demon is gonna have BOARomir gore your nuts or something.
Lydanna: I hope so.
Davlamar: And then the demon will be like, “GHOERE! It’s goring your nuts. By BOARomir.”
Cambrian: Come on, that was a good one.
Davlamar: It was, but that might be the worst best one you’ve ever done.

Cain slays the boar, and hauls it back for a feast. Survival tells them that the next day will be clearer, but another storm looms past that! For no apparent reason, the DM rules that Cain wraps himself in the bloody flesh-strewn gobbets of the boar’s hide. They retreat into the cave, trusting the runes of protection on the side of the cave to protect them, and take watches. Cambrian attempts to duplicate the rune of Pride; the DM ignores him as watch order is assigned.

DM: Drengar and Davlamar say, “Y’all can go fuck yourselves, we’re going to sleep.”
Cambrian: Well, they did just see their people almost wiped out.

The big demon shows up and camps out outside the cave, staring at them. Connor, on watch, is called to make a Will save.

Connor: Oh jeez.
Davlamar: He’s gonna run right out to it.
Cambrian: “DADDY!”
DM: Seriously, don’t roll a 1.
Connor: 18.

Everyone is shocked and assumes Connor is lying. Still, Connor is not terrified of it and does not run! The night passes, and the snow has piled up to ten inches. Cambrian proposes Winter Wrap-Up through song, and someone severely injures him. Then mildly injures him. Cain believes that the day will be pleasant, but the next day will bring more snow! From where they are, they believe they’re in orc lands! West will take them deeper into orc territory, east to the human lands. North heads to the great sea. Their biggest concern is shelter, so they elect to head west, hoping for a good reception for the orcs.

Cain: My best bet is to try to disguise myself as one of the other races.
Davlamar: “You may pass, but only if you put on these blindfolds. Actually, only the human must wear a blindfold.”
DM: Oh dude… why am I rolling such terrible weather for you guys?
Cambrian: Could be worse!
DM: Oh, you mean a hurricane?
Davlamar: Otherwise known as Campaign-Killer!
DM: Or a blizzard. “It’s a white-out!”
Davlamar: Oh, even the weather is racist…

They trudge through, and after about four hours, stumble across a north-south road. Out of a desire to find shelter, they pick a direction at random by flipping a coin, which somehow causes a meteor to strike Cambrian. Cambrian attempts to scribe the Rune of Snowbreaking. They see smoke in the distance!

Cain: Does anyone have disguise?
Drengar: We’ll be the littlest orcs of all.
Cain: I know who orcs hate. Who do they hate?
Davlamar: Everyone that’s not orcs.
Drengar: Aren’t they the ones trying to be more peaceful?
DM: There are some orcs out there who stick to the old ways and want to make war on everybody, but because of their warring history and the Great War with the elves, and the great Race Ware, their population is almost decimated. They want to be at peace with the elves, because the elves are the ones who almost wiped them off the face of the earth, but the elves will kill an orc on sight.

Cain and Lydanna worry a bit about their reception. Lydanna hides her ears with a headband. Orcs glances at them as they reach the outskirts to the town, but don’t pay much attention to them beyond that.

Cambrian: Does anyone speak Orcish, by the way? …hope one of the speaks Commons.
Davlamar: Maybe one of them will speak Goblin. That’s probably close to Orc. It’s like Spanish and French!
DM: You see two orcs come towards you. They’re wearing… to call them soldiers would be an insult.
Cambrian: Militia?
Davlamar: Statler and Waldorc.
DM: But they’re not even trained militia. They look like farmers who got stuck in armor…
Davlamar: Slackers! They’re slackers! Loiterers who pretend to be protection people!

Cain peers at the DM’s notes openly! Worse, he relates his knowledge!

Cain: These notes just say, “Go to orc town. Orcs approach heroes. Cambrian dies the second time.”
Cambrian: That’s why he’s rubbing in how untrained these guys are, so when they kill me it’ll be more embarrassing.

The DM calls for Spot checks, meaning some of them notice the raw fear the orcs exhibit! They call out in Orcish. Communications are immediately not established, due to a lack of a mutual language.

Cambrian: I scribe the Rune of Translating.
Cain: God damn it, Cambrian!

One orc runs back into town, the other remains! He continues to tremble so badly as he attempts to face the heroes that he urinates himself. Everyone is disgusted and feels pity.

Cambrian: I simply keep my hands at my sides, in open view, no sudden movements.
Drengar: I have my hands open as ELDRITCH FIRE FLARES – no, just kidding.

The second orc has brought out a third orc, fairly well-dressed. In Common, this orc inquires as to their identity and purpose!

Lydanna: “We are simple travelers. We came through the mountain.”
DM: “NOTHING comes through the mountain.”
Cambrian: “Then it pleases us to be the first.”
Davlamar: Points for that one. Keep working towards erasing that Boaromir stain…
Cambrian: “We did. We bring dire news.”
Lydanna: “We fled through the mountain.”
DM: “Again. Nothing comes through the mountain. In a thousand years I have sent orcs into the mountain, and none have come back.”
Davlamar: “You’re one old orc. You look great for your age! When one thousand years I reach…”
DM: “Dead Sea mud.”

Cambrian explains what has happened and points out how terribly unprepared they are for the snow, relying on his 18 Charisma to carry them. The orc warms to them slightly, welcoming them and explaining they are a town of refugees who have been persecuted by orcish slavers. He welcomes them into his home! They discuss the recent attack on the dwarven lands.

DM: “But how might the humans travel? How can such large forces be able to move? No circles that size exist.”
Cambrian: “We don’t know if it’s any connection, but the humans wear a brand. I wonder if this is perhaps their protection. Demons will not strike one that carries this brand.”
DM: “A brand! The humans are branded, you say? Are they branded on the side of their neck?” (miming revealing a brand) “PHI KAPPA ALPHA BABY, FOR LIFE!”
Cambrian: Phi Kappa Alpha Baby?
Drengar: Semper fi!
Davlamar: Asian character! I do not remember what it means!
Cambrian: Shouldn’t these guys be a member of Omega Rho Chi?
DM: “I’ve heard rumors of others with branded runes along their skin. They’re rumored to be doing terrible things,.

The orc introduces himself as Morbosh. Cain forgets the name of the Messenger’s Guild, so some people abruptly becomes Couriers. Cambrian speechifies, as is his wont. After some light roleplaying, Morbosh’s wife asks through him why some of them SMELL OF ELF!

Cain: Your boyfriend’s an elf. And he got his smell all over you.
Davlamar: THIS is when it would be handy to carry a necklace of ears around!
DM: THIS IS WHAT I DO TO PEOPLE WHO ASK QUESTIONS!

Lydanna makes a carefully-worded explanation and then rolls a natural 20 to boot on Diplomacy.

DM: “We are honored by an elf who does not seek our destruction on sight. We bear no ill will to the past crimes of the father. We only wish to be left alone, to farm our lands, to live our lives, to be with our families. I wish I could say the same for all of our brethren…”

They discuss the slaver-orcs, who are mostly to the south, but Morbosh hasn’t heard from the capital in weeks and doesn’t know what perils might lie between here and there.

DM: “But we are a small village, and we try to keep as quiet as we can…”
Davlamar: “And we’ve just made a deal that’ll keep those orcs out of here forever.”
Cain: Shut up! Shut up!
Davlamar: “I knew this orc was too smooth a talker…”

Night falls, and suddenly the watcher demon is standing right there at the window, staring in! The orcs panic, diving for weapons and flailing, though the PCs quickly smooth things over.

Davlamar: I’m gonna moon the demon. WOOHOO!

The PCs grab sleep various places in the house – the second story room, rugs in front of the door, and so on. Morbosh refuses to sleep all night, sitting in his chair and clutching a sword. Davlamar grimly predicts he’ll be dead by morning. Suddenly, everyone becomes INCREDIBLY confused about where they are and what the map looks like.

Davlamar: Where was north on the map?
Cain: It was kind of curved…
Cambrian: Yes, they refer to that compass rose as Formation Delta.
Davlamar: Hey, at least I don’t have to go that well every week!
Cambrian: Yeah, ‘cuz you guys neeever ever mention the boat adventure repeatedly.
Davlamar: Fondly!
Cambrian: (mad incredulous laughter)

Somehow it gets really bad.

Cambrian: Two Trolls, one cup. They regenerate, you know. “Me get started, then give self Stranger.” Lop. Reattach.
Davlamar: …wow.
DM: You all arise to the smell of breakfast cooking!
Cain: Oh, I was gonna say the smell of smoke and bodies.
DM: You look over and see a bloodshot-eyed Morbosh, straightening out, putting the chair back where it belongs.
Cain: Did the demon kill everyone but us, then stand above us petting us? “I can’t kill you yet…”

The DM calls for Listen checks, and a couple of people hear a faint horn! Morbosh grabs his sword.

DM: “Friends! Quickly! Hide! Run!”
Davlamar: Green dragons!
DM: “The slavers have found us!”
Cambrian: “How many?”
DM: “I know not. If the horn you speak of is true, that is them warning they are coming.”
Cambrian: “That’s stupid of them…”
Cain: “We’ve lost towns because you keep blowing that goddamn horn!”
Cambrian: “I like the horn!”
Cain: “Stop blowing the horn! You’re warning them!”

Cain confuses Hellen Keller and Anne Frank, or at least claims he was quoting from Clerks 2. As they step out, they see other orcs carrying giant pieces of brush into the woods. Morbosh’s wife hides them in the guest room, locking them in… after which the DM cheerfully chastises them for hiding and abandoning the orcs who had been so good to them, and ends the game on that note.