Tales of The Flying Bunyip (D&D 3.5)

Session 2-2: The Tipsy Gnoll and the eyes that watch
A party at the worse inn in town and Otar finds himself in a bind

The inn was not the prettiest of places to be. It immediately opened up to the common area where several patrons had settled into their seats and proceeded to look gloomily into their drinks. Manning the front desk was a wide eyed gnoll who wore a stained ragged apron who immediately brought his attention to his new arrivals. Within a moment, he leaned forward with sniffed the air in hopes to get an idea if they were present for business or to waste his time. “What can I do for you, my honored guests of the Tipsy Gnoll yes, hello, hi.”

Celean looked back at her companions as Abbadon was just making his way through the door. “Just here for rooms and food. That’s al-” “Wonderful!” The gnoll interrupted. Within moments he produced a set of keys for his would be guests. “10 coppers each, and I’ll come bring the food and the drink.” With a slight shrug, everyone dug into their pouches and produced the fee introduced to them, then made their way to a large table to settle in.

A few words were exchanged with each other before the gnoll came and set a plate of various meats in front of his new guests. He seemed rather excited about receiving unfamiliar faces into his little inn, and set the keys excitedly in front of them. “If you’d like to spend an extra 2 gold, I deal the best Pop’s ale here! I swear you’ll love it! The best of the best!” From the background, a dwarf sat in a corner, and as if on cue, he cried out “The best of the best!” Bartleby was never one to really refuse a drink, particularly one he hadn’t had since his capture, and it seemed that Abbadon and Celean were inclined to agree. With a nod between the three, the gnoll rushed to his counter and began to pour several mugs of a frothy brew.

“First thing’s first. We touch base with the Outreach Center and look into the jobs posted there. Hopefully we can scrounge up enough gold to buy a ship then head to Glasscliff.” Abbadon’s voice was firm and decisive as he brought a chunk of meat to his lips and tore from it. It wasn’t the best meat he’d ever had… in fact it was maybe the worse. Regardless, there was a first time for everything so he continued to dig in. Bartleby casually picked at his meal while Celean prodded her dinner with suspicious pokes. Eventually 3 mugs slammed down in front of the three, who quickly took their drinks and started to drown away the bitter taste.

The Tipsy Gnoll was dead silent, occasionally a few whispers from the scatter patrons, and a large belch from the dwarf in the corner. This annoyed Bartleby, and it seemed to annoy the dwarf as well. Soon enough the stout bearded man stood upon his table and began to sing drunkenly. “You come here ya come there, you seek a decent fair. Yer pockets are lackin gold ‘n’ empty~! Yer down on yer luck, ‘n’ can’t git outta the muck – Ya got ale to wash away the worries!”

Fingers strum upon the lute in Bartleby’s hands as he stood in his chair and accompanied the dwarf in his song. It was catchy and simple, the general ideas of drowning away your fears and hardships, it was enough for the dwarf to go as far as ordering another round for himself and the three. Abbadon laughed as Celean got into the spirit of things and joined in the song, and soon enough the run down pub was roaring in song and dance.

Hours passed and people continued to sing and dance, Bartleby strumming away and leading the chorus until a pair of men from the nightwatch entered the Tipsy Gnoll. One of the men nodded towards the proprietor “Stinky.” The gnoll nodded in response before pointing towards the dwarf. It seemed like the Night Watch were familiar with the rambunctious individual and made their way to him as he stumbled about in a drunken haze. “Alright alright you lot. Break it up. We’ve got plenty of noise complaints coming from this place, so you all calm down.” There was a resounding groan of disappointment as the two guards started to drag the dwarf out of the door.

As the three picked up their things, they eventually went up to the common room to turn in for the night. It was maybe one of the worse nights sleep they had ever experienced. Except for the whole: Sleeping on a solid floor in a prison cell thing.

Spider travelled the road casually towards the Lumbering Giant as Edgar rested peacefully in the back. Otar glanced about the closed marketplace, noting a sight of something unusual… a golem. It was of simple make, clay, lumbering, and it appeared to patrol the area as if it were in charge of guarding the area at night. It was then, that Otar raised a brow and brought his hand to the bandanna around his neck. He quickly pulled it up and over his nose so not to be noticed… But the golem had stopped its routine and was now staring at him. “Shit.” The wizard uttered under his breath… but the magical construct did not chase him by the time he left the area. It only stood there and stared until he left.

Hopping down from the wagon and handing Spider over to the stableboy, he reached over and picked a few coins from Edgar’s money pouch. “This should about cover it.” He flipped a few coins to the boy who smile and nodded respectfully in thanks. Otar glanced about the area once again, making sure he wasn’t followed, and when reassured of his isolation, he ducked into the Lumbering Giant.

Session 2-3: The Outreach Center and a Boy Named Bingles
The first job from the board...

Spider clopped through the cobble streets with his bandanna pulled up covering his lower face. His brown eyes continued to scan the area in hopes to avoid any more golem sightings. As the wizard looked over his shoulder, he let out a sigh. “Man… I wish I could sleep like that.”

Edgar continued to snore loudly as he rolled onto his side. His hands clenched from time to time as he mumbled something unintelligible. On occassion Otar noticed the halfling’s brow furrow from stress. He wasn’t sure if he should reach over and shake Edgar awake, but Spider finally came to a stop in front of the Tipsy Gnoll.

“That was one of the best night’s I’ve ever had.” Bartleby beamed over his mug of water while Celean nodded happily. Abbadon’s features looked exhausted, he reached up and massaged his shoulders as he muttered something under his breath. Something about bed bugs that seemed insistent in getting to know him. The three looked up towards the new arrival: their wizard companion pulled down his bandanna from his face and gave a slight nod. “Hey guys.”

Stinky brought in a hunk of meat and a mug of water for Otar, setting it in front of the human as he rested his spellbook on the table. “Sorry it took me awhile. You wouldn’t believe the weird shit I was seeing.” Snatching the mug and putting it to his lips, the wizard drained what he had and then slammed it down. “Did you know this place has golems? I mean, not everywhere… but there are a few just walking around like they’re a bunch of guards.”

“Partly true.” The halfing bard smiled as he tore away a chunk of meat from his plate and popped it into his mouth. “There’s two golems that have been given to Kaldest Keep as a gift. Learned it from some scamps last night… a woman named Lilian Beregon.”

“Woman?” Otar’s face contorted into a confused look as he tried to piece together what his companion had said. The last time he had seen Lilian was when he ran out of Glasscliff, but she was a small girl. Granted he had a golem chasing after him at the time, he never did confirm that she was dead. All he heard was a scream.

Bartleby nodded as Abbadon tapped his fork on the edge of his plate before he finally inquired. “Didn’t you know a Lilian?” Otar gave a slight shrug in reply, the wizard appearing just as confused as his companions. “Any ways… lets get down to business.”

Celean laid down Old Ben’s map and set the finished plates on either side of the parchment to weight the sides down. Abbadon sat back on the bench for a moment and tapped the location where Sansport rested. “First off, we’re going to need gold if we’re going to grab a boat and get back home. It sounds like the Outreach center is where we’ll need to go.” Celean seemed to bring a hand up over her mouth as she stifled a laugh. “Sorry, just found it funny that the place is called the…” her voice trailed off as she stifled another laughter.

The streets of Kaldest Keep were busy with activity, word of the Festival of the Sand Gods seemed to bring in quite a bit of travelers from all around the south. It was hard to believe that this place was once a military outpost for the kingdoms of the south. As Spider trotted lazily up to the adventurer’s guild, Edgar never seemed to have awaken from his sleep.

“Is he dead?” Celean asked with a curious tone in her voice. “Naw, he’s just really lazy I guess.” Otar said with a chuckle. “Must be a halfling thing.” “Hey!” Bartleby snapped before taking another puff from his pipe. “We’re here.” Abbadon called out before hopping down and making his way into the wooden building. A large sign hung above the entrance of the structure, painted in faded red “Outreach Center.”

A young man stood behind a counter as he dragged a pencil back and forth on a piece of parchment. He looked up as he spotted the new comers file in. “haven’t seen you guys around these parts. You all new?”

Celean and Otar spread out in the back and looked over some of the job posting boards. The tasks at hand varied from minor jobs such as washing dishes for a few pubs, to that of guard duties that the city watch did not take a part in.

Bartleby smiled as he leaned against the counter with a charming smile. Abbadon however, loomed behind the halfling like a wall of intimidating meat. “Yes we are my friend! But we’re also looking for some work and were told this is the place to be!”

It was obvious that the halfling could make a living off selling anything to anyone because the human behind the counter seemed to let out an exhausted sigh. “Yes… we have random jobs posted here and you can earn gold for it. Just look over there…” He gestures to the boards Celean and Otar were looking at. “Grab a ticket. Bring it here. Complete them. Get paid. It’s the Kaldest dream I tell ya.” The sarcasm that oozed from the proprietor made it seem like he has been working the Kaldest dream for years.

Abbadon and Bartleby soon joined the other two at the job boards. “Anything worth taking?” The large muscled man asked.

“A couple… It looks like a few of these have openings for a limited amount of time.” Otar seemed to gesture to a few nailed up parchments that were posted on the bulletin board. “But… they DO pay good.”

- Drugs ‘n’ Pugs - Dead Sewage - The Fall of Xel - Mark the Mark - Bully the Bully - Really Boring Escort Mission

“We’re signing up for this one.” Abbadon set down the parchment described as ‘Dead Sewage’ in front of the man at the front desk. The job posting seemed official enough, considering the one paying for the job’s completion was the city watch. It was a straight forward mission: Meet with the City Watch contact “Mitch” and dispose of the undead in the sewers.

Abbadon glances about as he and his companions walked down the street. keeping an eye on the street names as they neared their destination. “We’re going to need blunt weapons. They’re work best against skeletons.” Celean brought her hands together and cracked her knuckles while Bartleby spotted a tree and ran towards it.

Taking a firm grip of a sturdy branch, the halfling braced his footing against the trunk of the tree and pulled. Soon enough the bard had in his hand a make shift club and smiled confidently until a shrill whistle was heard. “Hold it right there! You! You’re destroying public property!”

A young guard with an odd 5 o’clock shadow built up on his face rushed the halfling and lowered his whistle. Pointing accusingly, the watchman seemed to get straight down to business. “That’s a 15 silver fine. Pay up or I’m taking you down to the-”

Abbadon came up from behind the guard with a disgruntled look on his face. “15 silver? For a tree? That’s crazy.” Before the city guard could say anything else, Celean seemed to leaned forward with a suspicious look in her eyes. “His badge is fake. It’s made of cloth.”

The poor makeup smeared down the teenager’s face as he sweated profusely, Abbadon holding the boy by the neck of his shirt as the party marched to a guard post.

“Bingles? Dat you? Ah shit. You sure bit off more than you could chew this time.” A dwarf tipped his helmet towards Abbadon and company as he held his hand out and took the boy’s wrist, leading him into the guard house. “Sorry bout that lads. M’lady. This boy’s a bit of a trouble maker… we’ll keep him here in the cells fer the night ‘n’ notify his mum bout the trouble he has caused.” Abbadon’s brow furrowed as he listened to the dwarf’s explanation of the youth’s scams against visitors in the city, targeting tourists, and demanding fees for ludicrous things. Eventually the large man gave the dwarf 5 gold to pay for the boy’s bail in hopes it would not provide trouble for the mother. With that bit of business settled, the party continued down the road where they met up with a board looking orc in armor. His shoulder displayed an authentic city watch badge, and he wore a plate featuring the name “Mitch.”

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.


“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.

Session 2-5: To Sansport
Everyone unwinds and head to Sansport

A full day had passed.

Abbadon and Edgar finished their entanglement with the “Drugs and Pugs” mission, while Celean, Otar, and Bartleby finished “Bully the Bully.”

It was morning and the 5 gathered at the Tipsy Gnoll for breakfast.


What once was a party of 5, was now 6. Edgar patted the head of a pug puppy who wore a name tag “Ser Wuffington,” and proceeded to give the pup some jerky. Abbadon was digging into his food with gusto, preparing for the trip ahead.

Celean, Otar, and Bartleby had an exhausted look on their faces as they ate their breakfast. The woman was staring at the pug, with occasional glances towards Edgar and Abaddon.

“So… The mission went smoothly and… you got a dog?”

“Mmhmm.” Abbadon looked up for a moment as he swallowed what was left of his breakfast.

“He’ll be the best. Swear it.” Edgar’s eyes were lit up with energy as he picked up the pug and held it up.

Before the red monk could inquire more on Abaddon and Edgar’s successful mission, Peter Quillin burst in from the front door. The once tired burned up man was now wearing traveling gear and a backpack full of various tools. He immediately made his way over to Abbadon.

“There you are! I am so happy to find you… Mr. Drekker informed me that you were headed north, and asked I came with. It seemed like you may need help loading your wagon and transporting equipment. It just so happens that Drekker has hired me to help you and your friends! I’ve already loaded up your wagon with supplies and the ale he promised. I guess you can call me your mule… but I’m just happy to help! I’ll be outside whenever you’re ready!” That said, Peter turned and rushed out. The man seemed filled with energy that he was in and out within a moments notice.

Abbadon looked like he was looking for words to say but was left with his mouth agape, the rest of the party seemed to stare at him hoping for answers. Finally the large man sighed and glanced at his companions. “Drekker? Why would he…”

Bartleby smiled as he glanced at Celean. “He was the dwarf we partied with awhile back. Edgar, myself, and Celean ran into him again right here, and we seemed to have gotten on his good side.”

Abbadon slapped the table top with a wide smile. “HE was Drekker?” The man seemed rather happy with their turn of fortune. Their adventure hadn’t been the best when it came to making friends, but it seems like lady luck had given them a chance.

Peter patted the back of Spider’s head and looked over as the others arrived. With a nod, he climbed to the front of the wagon as the others got on board.

And so, they travelled north to the Port of the White Sea, Sansport.



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