Tales of The Flying Bunyip (D&D 3.5)

Session 2-4: Wrapping Up Business and then to the North

The party earn their dues and prepare to head north

The stench of Kaldest Keep’s sewer was unbearable, and the party had ventured deep into it. Trash and bones laid scattered in the chamber that they stood in and the encounter was coming to an end. Abbadon held onto his shoulder where a deep cut had held him back from the rest of battle. Everyone else was not fairing as well, but the last skeleton was struck by Celean’s fist and crumbled to the ground.

“Lets… not do something like this again.” Otar muttered under his breath as he brought his bandanna over his nose.

The red monk plucked the skull of her fallen foe from the floor, and dropped it into the bag she carried. 6 skeleton heads to collect and 6 will be delivered.

As the others regrouped and took a moment to evaluate their wounds, Edgar had made his way down into the sewer and noticed a flickering light down the passages. As the halfling stuck close to the wall and snuck towards the light, he kept his head down in case it were enemies. According to the watchman Mitch, his companions were employed to go into the sewers and remove what undead presence was there. All in all it was a surprise. First he was falling asleep at the wedding grounds, and now he had awoken in a small city. All that mattered now however, was to figure out where he was.

“Lets head back. I… need a bath.” The familiar voice of Bartleby echoed through the sewers from the source of light as it made its way towards Edgar. It’s there that he felt a cold hand rest upon his shoulder. Edgar’s head jerked to look over his shoulder where a woman clad in a white wedding dress stared at him with wide piercing blue eyes. Her hand slowly pulled away from him and began to mouth inaudible words.

As the light came closer to where Edgar stood, Abbadon noticed the halfling’s clothing as he stared at the woman. “Uhm… Edgar?” The muscled man asked as he raised the torch in his hand.

“Yeah?”

“Who is that?”

“I don’t know.”

As Edgar slowly took a step away, it’s there that the woman in white suddenly evaporated.


“Here you go. All done.” Abbadon dropped the sack of skulls onto the counter of the man running the Outreach Center who took a moment to jerk his head back from the party’s exotic stench.

In the back Edgar tapped his chin in deep thought. While in the sewer, it seemed that the others had found the body of a dead man accompanied by the 6 skeletons they were employed to eliminate before. They had found what is claimed to be an escape route for some house, and then there was the unusual appearance of the ghostly woman. With a shrug of his shoulders, the halfling retired his thoughts and looked up at the job board. Raising himself to the tip of his toes, the rogue plucked the job posting “Drugs and Pugs” while the bard grabbed another called “Bully the Bully.”

Otar shook out his cloak, hoping some of the smell would come off it as he looked amongst his companions. “You know… if we’re trying to make money faster. It WOULD be better if we split up.” Celean let out a sigh as she nodded. “I agree. But first, lets call it a night. I think we all need a good meal and a bath.”


Everyone had gone their separate ways, Edgar, Bartleby, and Celean decided to return to the Tipsy Gnoll for food. Otar to Lumbering Giant to catch up on his studies, and Abbadon to the Sleepy Time Inn. The large muscled man stood out in the establishment, where many of the other patrons in the dining room wore shirts and pants, Abbadon wore a kilt and a aura of confidence. He enjoyed the meat that was prepared for him, filled him up, spiced, it’s not something he was accustomed too, but it was nice to indulge once in awhile. For a moment another individual slipped into the dining room with hungry eyes. He wore rags, and his face suffered terrible burns. There was already a group of empty tables around Abbadon, and it made him stand out.

“S-sir… may I?” The man approached Abbadon without any concern for his safety. It seemed he was already used to the weird looks, and the muscled fighter struck him as familiar kin. With a slight nod, Abbadon pushed out a chair for the man who settled into it and gestured towards an unfinished loaf of bread.

“What happened to you friend?” Abbadon asked as he pushed the loaf of bread over to the beggar. There was a brief moment of silence as the burned man tore into the loaf of bread like it were his last meal. “I… fire… from Xel… It was attacked and destroyed… myself… many others homeless. You must of noticed the refugees pouring into the city.” Abbadon nodded as he listened to the man mutter between bites about a masked man who single handedly destroyed the small town.

As the last bit of bread was finished, the homeless man rose to his feet and lowered his head with a smile on his lips. “T-thank you m’lord. Your kindness is appreciated… m-my name is Peter Quillin, if… if our paths ever cross again, I owe you a great debt.” Abbadon simply gave a silent nod as the man left the dining room. Placing his hands on the tabletop and bringing himself to his feet, Abbadon left the room to take a bath and retire.


Edgar looked about the Tipsy Gnoll, appraising the patrons in case he could help their coin purses become lighter. To his dismay, everyone looked like they’ve little to give in the first place. As the halfling settled into a chair, Celean and Bartleby seemed to recognize a familiar face.

“Hey, I wanna thank ya for a great time the other night.” The dwarf from the previous night was sipping beer with a wide smile. He brought himself onto his feet and made his way over the their table. Pulling out a vacant chair and making himself at home, he waved over to Stinky. “A round fer d’eh singer ‘ere ‘n’ d’eh lady ‘ere.”

“Can I have a drink too?” Edgar asked with a wide toothy smile. The dwarf hmmed for a moment and glanced over to Bartleby who smiled. “He’s with us, he’s cool.” That said, the dwarf snapped his fingers and ordered another drink for the rogue.

The conversation was calm and pleasant as the four spoke. The time together came to a close as an unusual elf in black with an unusual eye entered the establishment, whispered into the dwarf’s ear, then made a quick exit. With a sigh, the dwarf rose to his feet then smiled widely, slapped Edgar on the back with a hearty laugh. “I really like you guys! Tell ya what, I’ll ‘ave a barrel of Pop’s Ale delivered to yer room.”

Bartleby chuckled softly as he puffed his pipe, raising his mug in thanks. “You’re too kind. Who are you anyways? It’d be weird to just call you stranger all the time.”

“M’eh name’s Drekker. Pleased t’eh meet cha.” The dwarf smiled as he shook their hands one by one as they introduced themselves. Soon enough, the stout man turned and left the Stinky Gnoll.

“Why does that name sound so familiar…” Bartleby furrowed his brow as he fingered the petals of the sunflower entangled in his beard. Then it hit him: “That was the guy who runs Kaldest!”


The next morning, everyone would gather at the Tipsy Gnoll. Abbadon and Edgar would handle the mission “Drugs and Pugs” while the other three would handle the mission “Bully the Bully.” By the end of the day, it was planned that the party would regroup at the Tipsy Gnoll again, gather supplies, then head out the following day.

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Dalis

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