Shazia’s journal dropped from beneath thy windful robes, and thus do I take up the prose. Doubtless, this journal shall be the most magnificent poem composed in this Minotaur laden dungeon since “Snort Grunt Bellow Kill” by Angus One-Horn.
After the last harrowing battle, left with little more than half-empty cleaning supplies (care of Sir “lets get this temple tip-top” Oakley) and our wits, we decided to travel further into the reaches of the dungeon. Why? Because. That’s why. Down we went, into a large room with large footprints on the floor. Bracing ourselves for orcs riding horses (in hindsight not the smartest conclusion), we opened a door onto Minotaur.
Deliberately not wetting myself and nor cowering in fear behind Kladju, we were surprised when the Minotaur spoke to us instead of (as previous encounters usually indicated was their first course of action) smashing our skulls. It took a little “persuasion” on my part, and a rather sinister diminished fourth on the songbow, but they came around and began telling us of their troubles. Oakley was a little keyed up, not wanting any bull in his temple (hah!), but since they drank from the same trough (double hah!) when it came to gods, he would let it slide. Spoiler: Later on we would find them with Demon-folk, so theres a good chance these guys are up to something no good.
I should also mention that they refused Splug’s offering of jerkey. Perhaps they could tell we were all snickering. Perhaps they know better than to trust a Goblin. Maybe he was having doubts about the raven queen and thinking about Cyrrollalee – intermediate goddess of friendship whose sacred animal is a squirrel. Splug did eat a raw squirrel on the way up here, so that makes sense.
Long story short. There’s some Gnolls, who are bad. A magic fellow named Kashtari, who is also bad. And a Red Dragon Mecalath down somewhere, who we should run screaming from. The Minotaur agreed that if we wiped out the Gnolls, they would help us kill Kashtari. We thought that this was reasonable, because we kind of hate Gnolls. “Kind of hate” being slang for “despise with a vengance”.
As one can suspect, the fighting began. Some weird whirring noise was heard, unlike anything we heard before, but we didnt care, we were killing shit! Kladju charged into battle swinging his mighty weapon and connecting mightly blows with absolutely nothing. This caused Aranis to shift his pants. Oakley took an axe to the face and it went right through his skull, but I patched him up and this time the patient can still use all of his limbs! He’ll be really good at the “got your nose” trick from now on too!
Blood … limbs … chaos …. power chords … and after the battle …. uh ….
Wait ….we never finished the battle … I’m not actually writing anything …. we’re still in the middle of combat with the Gnolls. Wow, that was one crazy flashback.