Well, Ah-lor-AHH elected herself party leader while half the group was resting up from their case of “Bugbear-itis”.
Once everyone was healed up (which took like a week) everyone went out on their own resupplying, which made for some interesting purchases. I say “interesting” like that’s not a bad thing, just ask our hu-mahn cleric ‘Snake Pliski’ (with a name like ‘snake’…).
Good ol’ Snake comes back with some old hag of a mule and three full barrels of wine. The mule he didn’t say much about but the wine was for “the morning sacrement and prayers”. Yet our first night out we stop to make camp beside the road and guess what? That damm cleric is dipping into the wine, claiming he missed morning sacraments. I don’t know much about his religion but I’ll tell you this, they can put away the eldeberries like no one else. I swear he drank half that damm keg.
On top of that, turns out before we left town he killed the damm mule, boiled it up then salted it getting over thirty packages of soggy mule meat each waying five pounds. Ah-lor-AH took one but quickly realized eating any of it was an invite to meet death on his home turf. While the cleric was busy puking his guts up (along with all the mule meat – saving his own life) she got everything she could of that rancid crap and tossed it down the hillside only missing the four pounds Snake had in his back pack (along with three bottles of wine, a few flasks, a few wine skins.. boy this guy worried about prohibition setting in or what?).
When it came time for Snake’s watch he was OUT. I mean dead to the world almost literally out. Nobody and Miles got tired of trying to wake him up so dragging him to a tree and tying him to it, a good stab in the leg with an arrow finally woke his hungover ass up. When the screaming ended (and only Nomis the half-elf mage waking up from them) a quick healing spell had the cleric back on his unsteady feat – useless to the rest of us and made to lay in the wagon to recuperate.
Well ‘recuperate’ might be too strong a word. What he wound up doing is sneaking a bottle of wine out of his backpack and start drinking again. He clearly thought he was quite successful at hiding it because no one is stupid enough to brazenly drink it as openly as he was. [Riley] was sitting on the barrels watching ahead, and Ah-lor-AHH was busy quite checking out the ‘moving scenery’ (Nomis was the scenery) everyone else did their bests to rid the group of the “Menace of the Wine” by smacking the bottle out of Snake’s hands while Miles and [Riley] rolled one of the full barrels out of the wagon and down the hill to shatter and bless the hillside below.
So here we are on the road, a distracted Dwarf lusting after elf-flesh (in the form of Three male elves and a male half-elf), a cleric who aint worth a shattered barrel of wine, and we’ve wasted two hours of daylight dealing with his alcoholic ass.
Yeah, gonna be ANOTHER one of THOSE days.