And Hello!
We sat around staring at all the treasure. There was more here than I had ever seen in one spot, but then, I would have been disappointed if my first ever dragon lair was anything but splendid. We found a good cache of vintage Elven wine and all of us drank it with gusto, although Kheops wisely set aside the lion share of the booze as part of the loot. Still, this left us with ten gallons to drink in one sitting! Alas, poor Hordak could not partake, as his injuries were so severe that he could do nothing but lay there and groan. Fortunately, our healers had managed to stabilize him. After we had blown through half of the alotted portion, each party member was encouraged by a thoroughly inebriated Helmut, self-proclaimed master of ceremonies, to give a toast in celebration of this glorious day! We even forced some of the fine Elven vintage on Kheops during the roast dragon supper. Kheops is a notorious abstainer of the lustful sphere (He once boasted that the pharaoh's youngest and most fetching daughter had attempted and failed to seduce him during a wet season festival. I congratulated him for his resolve, but some others jeered and questioned his and his god's manhood - all in jest of course).
Helmut started:
"To Elves, those little faeries sure know how to make great shit! This wine, those arrows, and especially ol' Bag Face Dragon Slayer over there with his mighty bow! (pointing to me, still wearing the sack over my head with eye and mouth holes cut out. Helmut was referring to the fact that I had delivered the fatal shot to the dragon using my own self-crafted strength bow and a stash of magic Elven arrows we had found.)
"Here! Here!" the others cried, and even Durale raised her glass and drank to my health. That conniving Bitch. I'll not turn my back on her! Not EVEN ONCE!!! I supposed it was my turn to speak, that's how these ... social customs work. Not even being drunk with my comrades could make me comfortable in a crowd.
"Well, it was nothing really, I just, you know, was trying not to miss him, and uhhh, yeah, I hit him. " Helmut roared with laughter, but the others just sort of shrugged and talked amongst themselves in hushed murmurs. Damn it! Why am I such a fucking lamp post? I quickly shifted away what little attention was left on me.
"Well Kheops, you certainly took a lot of damage in that battle. You must feel very proud!" Kheops stiffened and gave me an indignant sniff. "Well, not all of us can be flying magicians, Elf. If that dragon wasn't concentrating on me, she would have been looking in your direction, I dare say!"
Durale jumped to Kheops defense. "After all, your dragon scale mail ensured that the dragon would concentrate on you before others. That was a very noble deed! To Kheops!" The others agreed and gave him a rousing three cheers that far surpassed their toast to me. Kheops' eyes gleamed and Durale winked at me mockingly. She knew I had been trying to give Kheops a compliment in the first place. Grrrrrr.....
Jorja was more intoxicated that any of us. She raised her cup and shouted, "HERE'S TO HOW FUCKING RICH WE ALL ARE! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" And even I roared myself hoarse at that one, my embarassment forgotten and good times returned!
Sorak went next. He stood up, backed off, raised both his swords in an elaborate pose and cried "YAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!" and absolutely stunned us all with the most amazing acrobatic blades demonstration. Vortigern leapt to his feet and added magical lighting and smoke effects. Everyone drank and cheered and Sorak got a standing ovation as he finished by backflipping over the dragon carcass and landing in his original sitting position, both swords returned to their scabbards in midair. Cooooooooool, Elf!
Hordak managed to bestir himself enought to give a stirring speech in Orcish. "My brothers and sisters, we have conquered, we have overcome any odd, we have tasted greatness. For today, we can name ourselves the hunter of the most dangerous prey, and feast on not just dragon's flesh, but on the dragon's power. We have earned our place in songs and tales. We have touched glory. To US!"
Helmut translated. "Hey, we are awesome! We killed that fucking dragon and everyone is going to remember us for it! Woo!" Everyone cheered, but Hordak, knowing I speak Orcish, looked at me questioningly. I merely shook my head in answer, confirming that something had been lost in the translation. Hordak layed back down and groaned some more. Poor bastard.
Kheops raised his cup in turn to Durale. "To Durale's handy scroll and her bravery and cooperation among strangers! Truly you have earned our thanks and friendship!" We all saluted her, even I, and she acknowledged us with a nod and almost bashful smile. Bleh. But, she did deserve the praise. Her scroll had given us timely respite against Vesicant's noxious breath weapon, and she had actually taken on the dragon in melee. She is no coward, that is for certain.
Vortigern shot a spark from his lightening wand into the air and shouted "Here's to good times! Also, to being cured of my short and sweet addiction to opium!" and we all cheered and drank some more, and this continued for some time.
We must now figure out how to get all of this loot back to the ship and decide what we are to do next. Helmut's position as mayor has been both strengthened and weakened by this bold move, and he no doubt is carefully weighing his next move. Sost's and the dragon's demise have left a power vacuum at court that for now is filled by us, but when the captains return from their raiding, they will not be pleased with this upstart and the chaos he and his friends have brought to Scrape. It should be interesting. For me, the urge to depart has never been stronger... but then again, the opportunity to wage a naval battle against a Norse captain is yet another chance at glory. Decisions, Decisions.
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