Afer sittin our arses for the poofy thief we find the Mines of Chaos but go back for Kobolds
by Fletch
I’m fair shoor the blind sog’s map truly not worth the skin it be on. ‘E’s got the lizard mens where the jingle-brained covy be, roads twistin here and to nether. A right down shame of mappin.
Afer all the trials of runnin back t’cower, decides we to sluff a week so our poofy bounce can learn a bit of skill what doan include cowerin up a tree at the hint of blood. I runt into my ol’ chet, the half-orc what been bringing in all the ears.
We talked the area over a flagon and the wily thud oddly was keen to my suttle question manner, and ne’er lispt word one of the whereabouts for his huntin grounds. Bit of a fell to take Rue, I didn’t wit about the chet’s aversion to Elf-men. Oye. Blest that I be a smoothed-tungt rum-duke, and could cover the situation.
At long last, we rounded back at the claim, the whole of time spent hearin Kai and Sondra squawkin o’er a bow trade for a bedroll. We all burst the party fund for the shurk to learn the arch, and the two wealthiest cant make simple trade without feelin personal slight t’the other ‘lessin a kobold scribbles o’er.
I wit the pissables be our main distraction, p’haps to keep us lively. I wit Kai takes grand pleasure poking a th’others and gettin a growl in turn.
We popped out th’other end of our claim, and the valley crag spread out under. Smokesign and tunnels. We reckon ’tis the fabled Mines of Chaos below. So o’ course the party sees the boon and turns back into the claim to check dead tunnels fulla fake mineral. And beackon ourselfs to a mass of koboldts in the dark, which for once Sondra keeps her head and saved the new little tib from gettin pricked to deth.
I hopes well Rue clads and trains that tib afore she is put to bed with a shovel. I’ve no wit if she were fear-stuck or strong-purpost, but she kept in ’til Sondra run her out.
So now we’re in the dark, tryin to gain exit, hopin the wee mot has enough wit to lower the basket afore the kobolds run us.
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