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.
The party wakes up in an inn around a table with wine goblets near at hand. They have forgotten all that happened the last day. As they seek to find the truth they come in contact with a man that gives them a job which pays quite nicely.
When they have finished with this rather dubious assignment they are invited to dinner by the the man...