My Roll and Drinking Dave: That's right - my character's name is 'Dave'. Dave, the priest of Odin. I mean, Dave, the priest of Odin, motherfucker, and if you got a problem with that I'll clobber you, 'cuz that's what I do. Clobber people in the name of Odin, I mean.

Anyway. I rolled a 3 last week - is that the same roll? If it's different, let me generate another number - hold on, I gotta draw the grid . . . Okay, a 5.

So, it seemed like the protection from Owlbears potion actually worked, hey? Anyone got any cash left? Maybe we should stock up on that shit.

I'd like to wash the griffon piss out of my hair before meeting the mayor, too. And party conference! What are we doing here - do we show the mayor the note? Do we confront Master Vrill? Do we see if we can get a piece of the pie - either by volunteering to help out with the scam, or shaking them down? Do we try to put a stop to this and help the town?

Here's what I suggest - screw the owlbear plot, unless we get an offer, or roped in somehow. Play it straight with the mayor, and get beans without giving any. If Vrill's got something to say, hear him out, but otherwise let him do what he's got to do. But, if y'all want to stir something up in this town I'm game.

I've got a treasure map to a graveyard with a magic mace, too, if anyone's game. Or we could go back into the Depths, I suppose - wasn't there a door we didn't open? Rob?

Hey - are we playing old school, where clerics have to memorize, and don't get to burn a spell for a cure? I need to know what spells I have...  ¶ 4:17 PM