Zoos are Evil

Volnir the Skald's retelling around the crackling fire at a nameless drinking hole in Horizon:

It is our duty to honor the gods. I revere the Lawful pantheon, as all men should, and avoid the others, as wise men should. Only a fool antagonizes any of the gods without the power to back it up. So anyway, I joined the Holy Rollers as they sought to investigate The Order of the Enchanted Liopleurodon, a cult of liberal arts majors with pool noodles on their heads and strange notions of how much a mythical dinosaur cares about their devotions.

It was good fortune that brought us together. I was curious about this cult and encountered Fr. Cassian, Zimon, and June at the same festival. The solstice is a holy time for many of the gods, our blessed Pelor chief among them, and apparently this cult was aping that same behavior. One might consider it offensive to draw attention away from the true gods on the holiest of days, but I will leave that consideration to the holy men.

The veteran adventurers seemed convinced of the cult's evil nature, implying child abduction and worse, based on their experience with the Candy Mountain atrocity. Despite many attempts to uncover some hidden plot or machinations, they were eventually forced to admit that while goofy and misguided, the cult did not seem to display any overtly Chaotic tendencies. The most evil parts of the event were the unnatural performances the ensorcelled aquatic creatures were forced to give and the brainwashing of Zimon's hirelings that caused them to mutilate themselves in their fervor.

Fr. Cassian was disapproving enough for everyone and declared the cult anathema to his doctrine. I stuck by him as we left so as not to catch a stray excommunication. Zimon, on the other hand, swam out to speak with the magical dinosaur. Now, one does not simply call a hero of Zimon's stature a liar, so I listened with interest as he recounted that the creature did not seem to care about the cult's activities, held no interest in Law vs. Chaos, and indeed claimed to predate such things which of course is false as what could predate the Cosmic War? It was a wild tale nonetheless and I will learn from Zimon's flair for the theatrical.

Equipped with free merchandise like shirts and a foam octopus tentacle that June was waving energetically around, we set out to destroy evil. Now this is what I was hoping to witness, the famous party clashing against the wilds and imposing civilization on land lost to time. The hero Percival was not in attendance but I was assured that he was simply tending to matters of state as Lord of Horizon. What a great Lord we have here in Horizon, eh folks? Just the best.

Zimon on his fabled steed Springer scouted overhead, the horse's hooves clopping through the air as though on cobblestones. I hustled along in the wake of the mounted party, even their lowliest henchman on a steed of the finest birth. Oh, wait, no. I was now their lowliest henchman. But fret not, my time to display my value was at hand and I would earn my keep. And a horse!

Corpses, animated by foul magicks and stinking of the grave, sprang from the bushes nearby and attacked. Our first blows and arrows had no effect, their flesh protected from such mundane efforts, but Fr. Cassian employed a power above such petty concerns. With a bellowed command, half of the monsters' force fled, unable to withstand Pelor's holy light.

With my incredibly accurate crossbow fire rendered useless by their heinous unnature, I drew June's magical short sword from her belt and charged, joining the melee and striking down first one then another of the wights. Zimon and the rest made quick work of the rest and I returned the borrowed blade with shaking hands. I was truly a member of the party now, tested in combat and shamed only by the plainness of my armament.

The fantastic nature of adventure would rear its head repeatedly, our next encounter that of an aerie of the fabled Pegasus, beautiful, winged horses, majestic and exemplifying Law. The party's standard practice of destroying everything in their path was unacceptable here, and Fr. Cassian suggested we leave the creatures until we had the means to communicate with them. What wonders of the world, when you can speak with magic horses?

We camped beneath the branches of a massive tree, serene and tranquil under its canopy, and came to believe that it too was a fantastic creature of the woodlands. Again, Fr. Cassian kept us from anything rash and suggested we find a way to communicate with it at a later date.

Our continued travels brought us to an elven monastery, their strange symbolic script written over many of the walls and columns within. It was a formidable structure at one point, beautiful and impressive, but had fallen into such ruin as to be lost. My eyes could not have seen Fr. Cassian lick the wall thick with verdigris, that would simply be beneath one of such stature, but however it happened a magical secret door was revealed by a glistening, glowing outline on a nearby wall. I volunteered to strike a torch and descend the stairs beyond, discovering a storeroom of rusted and rotted remains of weapons, provisions, and the like. Tucked away in the debris was a shining steel and silver mace. I recovered it and passed it off to Fr. Cassian.

We left the monastery behind and headed for home. The field of floating blossoms nearby was declared a valuable magical component so we spent some time gathering as much of them as we could. I struggled to keep pace with the mounted group and hoped that my share of whatever we could get for the blossoms at market would get me a horse and a massage for my aching back.

And that's where you find me, friends, here with you now in our holy home. For another drink, I'll tell you of the wonders of...