Cities are OK, I guess, but I really prefer the country.  It's more peaceful, and, while you don't pick up as much loot, you can usually eat what you kill without the survivors giving you dirty looks..  Can you manage another slice of kobold? It's one of our favorites; Anguish's recipe is superb.  And we're sorry about the handkerchief; are you sure it was white when he took it? You've dropped it again; I'll just put it into your pocket for safety.
    Dealer's Bluff was pretty enough as towns go, but there was a generally rundown air about it; I suppose the disappearing caravans weren't doing trade any good,  We spent the day wandering around, tidily putting any gnomes we found into the receptacles provided and listening to the gossip.
    In the Street called Straight we found a moon elf mincing along, acting as if he had a right to be there.  After a short discussion of whether restraint is good for the soul, we decided it wasn't, and left him in undisputed occupancy of 5 feet of gutter, two pigs having hastily vacated it when we threw him in.
    In Temple Avenue, we heard two priests talking about the worrying silence of their shrine in the Hollow Hills, the mountains between here and Royal Flush.  Their consensus seemed to be that their god would look after her own, and if she didn't, she probably wouldn't look after any rescue expedition they sent through Sucker's Draw either.
    We surprised a bard in Joker Lane, singing that scurrilous ditty Four Fools from Plaza Toro, about one of our adventures, and promptly gave chase.  Despite his remarkable pelvic action, we were gaining on him when a a strange floating disk passed overhead and he faded into thin  air.  His last words as he vanished were: "Oh no; not agai..."
    We encountered a knight, described by Surly as ' a vision in tinplate', escorting his lady through Three Queens Park.  He remarked to her as we passed: "The gods gave Azhad a choice between them and a Mongol horde, don't you know?"  "Really," she drawled, "That was cruel, but I think he made the right decision".  Denise wondered who 'they' were, and said wistfully that she would have loved to see a Mongol horde, but I reminded her that we hadn't taken the road to Cormyr because of the flock of elephants that flew from left to right across our path, which we all knew for a very bad omen, especially as we weren't carrying umbrellas.
    We had a few drinks in The Full House, which didn't live up to its name, but the barman was not in a cheerful mood.  The only thing which put a smile on his face was the thought of an even bigger unfortunate, the man who had bought out all the other trail supply shops in Dealer's Bluff just before the caravan trade came to a stop.
    This reminded us that we hadn't checked on the quality of the food for our journey the next day.  We have this feeling that people who are sending you to your death have a responsibility to make sure that you're well fed.  The food samples in Stine's Supplies were surprisingly good, but the wine was plonk.  Pelargonius, who was there buying rations, glared at us, so we didn't stay long.  That man really knew how to bear a grudge.
    The weapon shop's stock was pretty nondescript, so we didn't buy anything, but, as Anguish remarked: "Every time we've found a place with high quality weapons, we've ended up needing them.  Remember the Pizza del Morte and that shotgun we won in Mykinda?"
    We spent the night in the Guards Barracks.  They really wanted to hear the story about Elminster and the nanny goat, but I refused to impugn the honor of a lady, even if she did prefer the old goat to me.  But our other exploits  kept them entertained till bedtime.
    Talking about bedtime, was that a yawn?  Maybe you're right; it's been a long day.