…yelling at the top of his lungs “Frazza Frazza bee bop a loo la” Hey Dragonlady, I’m not think as you drunk I am.” Hiram stumbles and sways to and fro. “I got yer room key right here. Where did I put that?” From his pockets, he pulls out his rubber ducky, prophylactic of destiny, toothbrush, chiclets, comic book, and a half eaten peanut butter sandwich. He looks around and sees the key on the ground. “There it be, lady Draggon Midge. It’s a sweet suite with a jack…jacq…jockoo….bathtub. Thanks for the shower, I wuz smellin a bit gamey.
The pair walk lively over to the pub the moment Hiram remembered where the place was. As they step into the pub, they see the carnage. There are broken tables and chairs everywhere. The barkeep is nowhere to be seen. An orc sees Hiram and immediately soils himself. “No mooore, Mr. Dwarf. Puhlease don’t open up another can of whoop-ass on us. Hiram scratches his head. He does not remember actually fighting.
Breanna chuckles to herself and pats Hiram on the head. “I’m sure the deserved it, my minute friend.” Lets find that room now.
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"I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."
-Robert McCloskey
- Token lackwit of HADB
- Sycophant to the Wolf of Azure Hue
- Long lost brother of DragonMage
- Bearer of a work of art created by Sazerac
- Jeg burde blive gennembanket for min flatulens.[/list]