So me and my mercs, we were hanging out in this town, had a bit of downtime on the Tharrashk coin. So I took some time out to try my hand at Gunsmithing. Took me a solid month, but I managed to crank out a small unit's worth of Musketoons, should do me for a firefight. Now the Necromancer was in his "lab", or so we referred to the cellar that he had rented from the fine establishment that we were to find ourselves in. He kept muttering about needing "Bigger fee mors". I completely agree, we definitely need to start charging larger fees if he's going to go around renting people's cellars. But that's also no way to use the King's Common I told him. Bloody wizards, don't know what's good for them. He should get some sun, maybe see a priest.
So we finish up our downtime, Snuffles is getting mighty restless. I've had to pay restitution for 3 crippled stable boys already! I mean, how good can they be if you tell them "Don't stand between the wall and the dinosaur". They only need half a pelvis anyway. Local girl keeps going on about missing her monthlies. What the hell do I care about her rent? I gave her a few silver and went about my business.
Speaking of business! We got contacted by them Dragonfolks again. Brought into some massive tower with a door that changes sizes! Fancy that? Bloody wizards. We get brought into this room and told about some God who just wants to go home, but we can't let him because his home plane is full of whackjobs and it'll crash right into our world here and make a mess of things. Apparently there's some portal fissure thing that they need to close up, and it might require souls. "NO WORRIES!" I says "Hobo Steve out the front here will volunteer to do anything for a crust of bread, and I'd say there's quite a few others around too. Let me round them up and we'll fill that thing with more souls than it can take". Hobos aren't good enough, they says. Hobos have rights they says. You can't volunteer the homeless for eternal damnation and torture, they says. What the hell are they for anyway?
So! We get jammed into this magical dome, and watch some little runt punch on with a Dragon. Things got brutal, but our boy had things under control. But then, instead of biting his head off like a sensible fellow, he swallows the runt! Next thing we know, he's bellowing and hollaring like he's eaten one of Ravage's undead experiments (seriously, don't do that. The indigestion is horrible, and the firebreathers give terrible heartburn). Dragon blood and guts spill everywhere, and sure as you would know it the little runt carves his way out of the Dragon's gullet and uses him to decorate the walls!
Things get a bit fuzzy at this point, on account of the damned dome getting covered in blood, but after a timely intervention by Al the Lefty, we move on through a portal away from the crazy little godling and approach an old fortified structure to defend against his tides of minions.
Sooner or later, I know these bastards are going to ask for my soul. And I have to say, it's a pretty shitty mercenary who turns over his soul to someone for coin. What goods coin without a soul? Even dead you can make a pretty penny if you've got the willpower to be disembodied.
Gotta go, Snuffles is trying his luck at seducing one of the dragonfolk. This'll be great!