In which gender is discussed, mothers are remembered, and sleep is finally found.
The pair enters the wasteland. Goat cheese is eaten. Names are exchanged.
In which a slave is sold to an unpleasant customer.
When photons bounce off your subs and into my retinas, this is how my headmeats give me numerals.
So you’ve finally done it. With the best of intentions all around the table, your PCs have finally blundered into the blender like curious gerbils, and now they are hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned. They are doomed, unless you unleash Secret GM Gambit #4 on them.
God has been slayed by a mortal man and his head is now worshipped and put on a pedestal. The PCs are hired to steal the head and bring it to a mystic that claims to have the power to revive God.