Here there be Dragons
It was mid morning before we decided to see what had happened to our breakfast. The smell of distant smoke combined with aches and pains from last night’s battle to make cowards of us all.
Hunger however is a powerful motivator.
We broke camp and made the several mile march back to the main encampment. Long before we reached the camp, it was obvious that we had been extremely fortunate. The very few stragglers painted a bleak picture of a camp overrun and destroyed.
From the near random babbling of the few survivors we met on the trail to the main camp, we determined that the camp had been attacked first by a dragon and then mopped up by the Usurper’s men. Little remained of the camp but we did manage to find enough of the breakfast wagon to make the trip worth while.
Several of us scrounged to find enough food for a run back home and some of the gold the quartermaster owed us while the bard ‘bravely’ sang of his prowess with the ladies in hopes that he could call it ‘help’ and get out of any real work.
We bolted our breakfast, packed up as much food as we could reasonably carry (in a few cases far more than was reasonable) and moved for home. We avoided the roads as much as possible knowing the Usurper would be covering them.
And so it was for nearly a week before we stumbled across the Wyvern and our troubles began…
How can I put this delicately? The tipsy wyvern is a shit hole: the sort of place where the failed eventually wash up for a night or two on their way to the bottom. The food is poor, the beer is warm and slightly flat. I get the feeling of the bar tender having poured your beer from the three or four mugs that were left on the bar when the last bunch of customers were carried out.
This doesn’t mean that I was not excited to see the wyvern as we made our march home. We as a unit were solidly on the path to the bottom. The Wyvern was actually a major step up for us. Having spent the better part of a week trudging through briar and mud, sleeping on anthills and eating anything unfortunate enough to die near the path we were taking.
I had always thought I could eat anything after my mother’s cooking… After a certain point, charred meat is no longer edible and before that point rancid squirrel isn’t edible. Sadly there wasn’t a point in between the two. The Tipsy Wyvern was a godsend. Poorly cooked meat is a HUGE step up from that squirrel.