That hill was quite high; what do you think - 29, 002 feet?  And the hillbillies were pretty rude to Surly.  I know he's given himself airs ever since he was made a Pier of the Realm in Tethyr because of the speed with which he could get through a barrel of ale and vice versa, but shaking rattles at him and yelling 'Jetty!' is not polite behavior.
    Still it's downhill all the way from now on.  Sorry, what did you say; just like your modules?  Sometimes I don't understand you at all.  I hope you don't take offence; I mean, your 101 Uses for a Dead Bard were hilarious and I'm going to try a couple of them out myself at the next Harper Hall, but I still don't get your 102 Uses for a Live Bard one-liner.
    I'm usually pretty quick on the uptake, too.  As I said when we first met, I'm not just a pretty face, rippling muscles and a modest demeanor.  When Anguish asked that tricky question in the strange cave in Sucker's Draw, I answered in a flash: Going to Penge to take up formation dancing.  Well, it's the truth, and I don't know why Denise had to mutter, in a very nasty voice, something about her elephant, Idiot.
    We were milling about, wondering what had happened to the rest of the caravan, when this gorgeous chick appeared out of the darkness.  As soon as she'd beaten me off with her staff, she told us a story about being a priestess of Sune, one of a group who had come to this cave to make an irresistable Strange Attractor in the goddess' honor.  They had succeeded too well and now all but her were shambling round it, drooling witlessly.  Denise seemed to find this funny, but the rest of us kept alertly pacing around and wiping our mouths.
    According to Francia, the priestess, the power of the thing was growing and drawing in all the caravans trying to get through Sucker's Draw.  She knew how to shut it down, but the spell required five people in full possession of their senses; we had obviously been sent by the gods to help her.  Denise, just like a woman, had gone hysterical under the strain, but followed bravely as Francia dashed into the darkness, with us as close to her rear as we could manage.
    We kept losing sight of Francia, mainly because Surly and Anguish were trying to elbow me out of my natural place at the front of our group, but she always reappeared again, generally at the other side of a pit which we only noticed after we fell in to it, and we would lose distance again while Denise helped us out with that sanctimonious, long-suffering expression on her face she has so often.
    After an hour of this, she tartly remarked that we had now fallen into the same pit 15 times, and that just maybe we might be ready to consider that Francia was part of the problem, not part of the solution.  Having been the one landed on by the other two most of the time I was open to convincing, but that pair of morons needed another half hour.  Honestly, I don't know what they would do without me.