Deep and unsettling, this place of haff light and haff life. Deddly Gostes. Strange gleemings. Moving wolls. Yes. Moving wolls. I wait to be sure, reddying my greatsword. But this is my undoing. Silver screems shatter my ears and make me stagger around like a drunken giant, helpless and vunnerabill. Giant silver wyrm attack!
And then I am hit. Unconshus! But we’ve got a good team hear. They get me out and we leave the place. Back to the fort. They offer us magic whispers and the nome and paladin say no? What kind of kings will they make? No, maybe we need a kween?
Anyway, Owlbears! I fukkin hate owlbears! Nuff sed by Finbar.