March 6, 2018 - Smoking Purple Mushrooms
An Alchemist, a Battleogre, and a Blue Frog walk into a dwarven tavern to have a drinking contest.
The battleogre orders a keg of dwarf spirits and chugs it all, before loosing a mighty belch that scorches the eyes and nose of everyone present.
The slaad orders his to go, and EATS the barrel - chewing up the wood like its a bag o’ pork rinds.
The alchemist sneers and hooks his barrel up to a piece of troll intestine and green dragon fang, mainlining it into his neck.
Unable to hang with the 3 bizarre outsiders, the most muscular dwarven miner challenges the 3 to a suicide mission into the mountain’s disposal site. Laughing to themselves, the polluted adventurers smirk and go stumbling off to the caves. Soon the sound of shrieking fungi and roars of battle echo across the city - rousing the mine foreman.
Rushing to the tavern for backup, he finds out his number one worker has stupidly sent drunken high-level adventurers on a quest to destroy one of the assets that keeps the underground city VIABLE and bitchslaps the fool across the room. Dashing full out into his quaking mines, he skids to a stop as a massive green lightning bolt sears across the chamber - lighting up every tunnel into the chamber for hundreds of feet with an acidic arc-lamp, and flash-frying 4 of the massive and slow-moving ultraviolet fungi that the fighters are murdering gleefully.
“STOOOOPPPP !!!” the foreman howls with all his being - drawing the attention of the besotted trio.
“C’mon - you 'kin kill one too ! We’ll save one for ya…” offers the giant blue frog, as the alchemist breaks out his Wand of Buttery Goodness.
Waving his arms in the classic time-out gesture, he defers - commanding “Your quest is over ! We need a few to survive - now go the fuck home !!”
The two warriors look up at the crazed, flying alchemist - getting a nod before the post-combat high-fives and butt-wiggling dance. “WE WIN !! TIME FOR FRIED MUSHROOMS !!” they cheer before collecting giant dead spores and heading back to town for some yums.
Leaving the mine foreman to clean up the mess. “Fucking adventurers…” he mutters with a sigh, shaking his head and grabbing a mop - whilst thinking up dire punishments for the drunken miner who started this whole fiasco.
Thus endeth the game…