The story of my savage defeat against the dragon had spread through the land and I received many offers to accompany me on the path to vengeance. I was quite glad to hear of such tidings and designs were set in motion to sneak upon the wicked creature and put an end to it’s menacing ways.

In the late hours of the night, high on the hilltop, under the cover of darkness, with flagons of ale for courage, a large group gathered with the intent of silencing this fiery devil. I had to admit, I was quite surprised by the large number that had turned out for my aid. It seems I was not the only victim of the dragon’s ravages. The aroma of revenge hung heavy in the air.

With our well formulated plan, we set ourselves into action. We moved in waves and took position upon the low and high ground. The cry of justice was bellowed out and we lunged in for the kill. Even with superior numbers, the battle was not in our favor. This was not the first time an unruly band had sprung from the shadows in search of it’s pound of flesh. With a mighty surge of it’s wings, the dragon was airborne and contented itself with setting the ground ablaze.

A few met these fireballs head on, which is a terrible battle strategy in my opinion. I sought out a better vantage point and waited for it to touch back to solid ground. When it did, the throng attacked again and moved with such speed as to keep the beast pinned down for a moment.

With savage fury the attack was on. Each part of the creature met with an assault and we could tell it began to take it’s toll. The battle raged and the dragon weakened. It did it’s best to incinerate our group, but in the confusion and melee, it’s blasts became erratic and off course. We had healers on our side and an a bevy of other weapons. We gained the upper hand and pushed on to destruction.

In a mighty blast that silenced the night, the dragon fell, it’s head landing with a forceful crash on the rocks of the cliff. Cheers and dance ensued. Revenge has been served ice cold this night!

Since we were on a high of victory, our unruly mob raced over to the Ruins of Ravensmoor with designs of sticking it into the backside of the unbreakable troll that casually swims near the shores. With a battle plan thrown to the winds, we simply lit torches, hoisted our sharp, pointy weapons and made disparaging comments about his lineage and unbranching family tree. Then we moved in for the bit pig-sticking.

And the jabs were many and forceful indeed. We made a few miscalculations and misjudgments about his big-stepping abilities which served to incapacitate a few and stun several others. I managed to avoid severe damage to sternum and spleen so it was a successful night.

We gathered our wits, aimed the business ends of our swords at his backsides and aimed for the naughty bits. It may not conform to the rule of fair play in sword play, but we needed effect, not pageantry.

A cheap but effective volley of shot, but that’s what you get for being so tall and wearing a kilt into battle. And once we began to use him as a punching bag, we gained considerable momentum and in short order he was face down in the dirt. Once again drink and dance ensued.

And with that, we had our fill and decided the rest of the night should be spent in quieter pursuits. I don’t believe any of the forest fires and hot tub vandalism that broke out that night had anything to do with us and is merely a coincidence. I don’t care what Halmar says.


See, that’s what you get you stupid dragon. I came out here just looking around, I tried to offer you a sandwich and make friends, and what did you do? That’s right, you shot fireballs at the back of my head and tried to set me on fire. Well, no sir! Who’s laughing now? That’s right, we are. And just to add insult to injury we’re going to take these precious metals you seem to be stashing for no apparent reason because you have no thumbs and no crafting stations and use this nest of yours as a privy! How do you like that?!


That’s right you stinky damn troll, right in the backside! That’s what you get! I’m not sure what you did because we’ve never met and I have no personal grievance with you, but I’m sure you’ve done terrible things that you’re not sorry for in the least. Hopefully, we haven’t made a terrible, alcohol and vengeance fueled mistake and you are simply some sort of harmless creature that is trying to live a peaceful and quiet existence on this little island. That would definitely upset the Oracle who may or may not be tracking our every move and deed.


This is the time where we dance of the skeletons of those less fortunate than ourselves!

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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