Plods into the Inn
to all his friends.
Rushing over to the Urn he quickly fills a mug with
gulping it down. "Ahhh... that's good rocket fuel, bless LofA's heart"!
Then he rumbles over to his corner table, and plopping down heavily in his usual worn chair muttering curses at the thieves who stole all his gear while he was stranded in the Mindflayers Lair. "My beloved Vorpal Blade"! he bellows amid a furiously puffed cloud of cigar smoke
Smitten by
