Tales of The Flying Bunyip (D&D 3.5)

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.

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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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Dalis

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