Bludgeon those dragons(tm).

The party sheltered from the spring showers next to the mighty black stone henge at the foot of an ancient stairway leading directly to the limestone cliff and the ornate carved entrance accessible only by the narrowest of stone ridges and really long run-on sentences in desperate need of proper punctuation. The black stone henge ignored them, lamenting the fact that water was pooling around its feet and they were cold. The limestone cliff ignored them, it was a cliff. People were not the enemy, the rain was trying to dissolve it! Fundamentally none of the scenery cared about this particular band of adventurers.

It would not be making that mistake in a hurry again.

"I am here, ready to science." the party scientist emerged from behind a menhir and wondered what sort of idiot would angle their menhir like that. He was reasonably tall, slim and allergic to a certain colour. A certain shade of blue that must not be named. "Miss Slime, how did you get here before me, you left after I did."

"I walked."

"It looks strangely familiar." Seymour The Destroyer rumbled manlificently, resplendent in his tartan kilt of Clan DickLogic and modern t-shirt armour with an ancient glow-in-the-dark rune on it that could drive even elder things to suicide. No sporran. Sporrans were for pussies and they were going dungeoning, no place for war kittens at all.

"It looks like my BLANKETTY BLANK!" the lovely small cute lolly witch with blue hair and bunny ears declared, quite frightening herself. "Why can't I say BLANKETTY BLANK?" She also sheltered from the weather and wore a mini-robe that only just managed to quality as panty-fighter length. It was a curious shade of blue that everyone knew but must not name because the gods of this world were pretty annoying and insisted on drinking tea at all times when they weren't drinking beer.

"The censors' azure hue," Miss Slime, priestess of pain pointed out, risking the wrath of the tea drinking god who just happened to be called Oxford Comma, the only surviving member of a legendary assassins guild that no one believed in, she had a soothing sibilant voice that made her esses resonate strangely despite the rain and run-on sentences. "does your BLANKETTY BLANK really look like that?"

"I think so," the blue-haired lolly tried to check, sadly the carpets were in the way of her BLANKETTY BLANK.

"See a cleric as soon as possible, it might be serious." Miss Slime hissed. "There are still some people missing."

"Look, there's an RPG Toilet. We can go before we go." Daisy, the blue-haired bunny lolly witch pointed. It looked awfully precarious, overhanging a bottomless chasm that was well over two metres deep and appeared to be filled with a river of boiling mud.

"At least that bit is accurate," Miss Slime was looking in the map book. It proudly declared that with this map book you need never fear Saskatchewan again. Possibly because it would eat you and the map book. "Bottomless two metre chasm, river of boiling mud, do not sniff." She reported, opening the door of the RPG Toilet and staring at the poster. "This is so old it has a Princess Schmodly calendar and a copy of War With Peas to wipe with. Ladies first." Miss Slime declared disappearing into the toilet, then propped the door open while she struggled with the laces on her leather trousers for a minute.

"Problem?" Daisy noted just how sturdy the RPG Toilet was. It was nothing like the RPG Dunny of the previous chapter before The Incident. That had been a wooden hut of superlative flimsiness. This edifice, despite being oak, had walls six metric inches thick and the throne carved out of a solid tree stump had a proper safety harness.

"Granny knot!" Miss Slime was frustrated, it was also black like all her clothes and hard to see in the gloomy RPG Toilet even with the door open.

Daisy waved a finger and the horrifying grandmother-in-law knot undid itself with frightening aclarity and miss Slime's trousers promptly fell down exposing her most secret of secrets. Paisley panties of power. "Oh come on, lace up panties? At your age?" A second wave and they too migrated South for the winter. Daisy peered over the edge at the bottomless chasm and the mud two metric metres below.

"Thank you." Miss Slime slammed the door and operated the safety bolt. It had a satisfyingly manly clunk despite the fact this was a unisex RPG Toilet.

Daisy went back to shelter under the humongous black henge, the one on the other side of the path appeared to be sagging and the less said about the pink one the better. Indeed, even mentioning it was a bad idea. "Seymour The Destroyer-" she started.

"No capitals, that's just being egotistical like Conan. It's just Seymour, the destroyer. People keep forgetting the comma too." He explained with his gravelly voice of superior manliness.

"So you know Conan The Destroyer?" Daisy's line of reasoning was destroyed, they could hear someone counting somewhere too.

"I knew a few Conans. They're all the same though, egotistical brutes in leather loincloths with big swords that come to sticky ends." Seymour grumbled. "Conan The Milkman, drowned in the cheese vat in a horrific accident involving no less than three demon milkmaids." He counted on his manly fingers, not because he couldn't count, but because he could. "Conan The Metermaid, no wait, he's still alive. Never double park your chariot in Imrryr. Conan the Tax Collector. He was sort of okay as long as you didn't owe taxes, caused the molasses event in Shadizar, never seen again."

"Did you ever meet Conan The Lumberjack?" Daisy knew of her, "I went to her concert once, she played the central square in Ptahuacan."

"He, Daisy. He."

Daisy nearly needed her blanket! The epitome of manliness had used her name. And not as an expletive! Without even a single exclamation mark. "Can I have your baby?"

"Not now, Daisy." Seymour the destroyer rumbled.

"Later then?"

Seymour the destroyer grunted in acquiescence. Whoever was counting stopped.

There was a frightful detonation. A huge jet of fire blasted out of the bottom of the outhouse and thundered into the bottomless chasm where it set the boiling mud alight. This continued for fully two minutes. The adventurers wisely put another henge between it and them as the conflagration waxed and waned, settling down to a flickering layer of blue flames.

"Yesterday's curry of awesome really was awesome." Miss Slime hissed sibiliantly, fortunately her clothes were all black so it was impossible to tell how charred her paisley unmentionables were. She struggled with the laces then looked askance at the blue-haired lolly who waved a finger at her. "Eek!" All her laces did themselves up with a cute bow. All of them. How would she get out of her paisley corset now?

"Ring of fire?" Seymour the destroyer grunted querulously. "I did warn you not to try the: mild, anything but."

"Oh stuff and nonsense Seymour, a good curry really unbungs the sluices and cleans out the drains." Miss Slime hissed breathily. An understatement if ever there was one. Only the fact that RPG Toilets were amazing had prevented her from untimely orbits. An RPG Dunny and she would probably have landed on a barge in the ocean.

"The toilet seat is all charred!" They heard the lolly complain. This time however, there was no drama at all. She emerged unscathed, clad in her special lolly witch uniform which correctly labelled her with: Front, this side towards enemy. The back had: Do not eat. "Did you see page thirty? The Pea King's army was marching towards the great yellow river to battle the giant Hydration Ration."

"Never liked that book, I had to study that in assassin school." Miss Slime looked back down the hill and they sheltered under a large purple henge as a spring storm tried to put the burning mud in the bottomless chasm out. "I can see some of the others coming up the hill from the village of Upper-Pillaging. I thought we stayed in the same pub?"

"Excellent. We might even get this adventure started before the end of the chapter," The greatest, manliest warrior the world had ever completely ignored because it was inconvenient, grunted. He was Seymour the destroyer and he was chiseled to perfection, so much manliness in such a large package and better still, he could use words with more than one syllable he was that manly.

Fortunately, miss Slime didn't swoon into a puddle and for some strange reason, the blue-haired lolly was immune. Or busy reading her script and not paying attention. She brandished her blanket willfully.

"No look, you can't take a blanket in a dungeon." The great warrior, Seymour the destroyer grumbled manfully at the small, cute, lolly witch with blue hair and bunny ears.

"Why not?"

"She has a point," Miss Slime, priestess of pain pointed out.

"I do not!" the blue haired witch lifted her mini-robe and showed off her Y-fronts. "Gosh, when did that happen?" She turned around and checked. Badly frightening the pink henge everyone was trying to ignore, "no point at all, just curly blue hair."

Steam came out of the party scientist's ears until miss Slime tried to lick his brain out of his left ear. It went clear through his head and stuck out the right. It was also forked. Whatever she did, it cured the party scientist's steaming really quickly. And he was still alive too. For some definition of the word.

"Sorry I'm late, you have no idea how hard it is to find magically reinforced war bras in my size!" A fearsome vision of loveliness arrived in the skimpiest of bikini warrior armour. Truly Unstoppable was such a high level bikini warrior that her armour was not for her protection, it was for the protection of others. Many an unfortunate city guard (they wore red tunics so the blood didn't show) had been crushed to death by her remarkable bosoms or had his entire face put out by her incredible nipples. Her blessed plus three mythril bra of safety was straining just from thinking about it. It was hard to say anything about her bikini bottom it was that small in direct contravention of her bikini top.

"I'm impressed you could even find a war bra in your size. Just how big are they?" Daisy asked, at a conservative guess they probably weighed more than she did. Truly Unstoppable must be incredibly strong.

"They don't have a letter for my bra size, just expletives," Truly Unstoppable lamented.

Steam did not come out of the party scientist's ears this time, he hardly noticed, miss Slime was a legendary assassin and she didn't just have a forked tongue. "We're still missing our cleric, doctor Threeskin."

"Enough of the blanket already."

"No, you have that bloody great- what happened to it?" Daisy pointed, traditionally Destroyer types, with or without capitals, went around with ridiculously big swords that could double as surfboards. Indeed, in a previous incident, Seymour the destroyer had surfed a river of boiling lava on his, escaping with only minor cheesecake. There was none of that, just the scary t-shirt and the kilt. Fortunately the minor cheesecake was of legal age... somewhere.

"Some dead god is going around with it sticking out of his skull," Seymour the destroyer rumbled manlificently. So much so that the lolly witch tucked the blanket between her knees to protect from swoon. "In the previous chapter, I visited the temple of bean the baked and have mastered four-handed sword fu."

"Oh, you can chop veggies in camp then," miss Slime noted, "don't we need a dwarf?"

"We have the lolly, that'll do." The party scientist indicated the witch, she had a magical girl wand and was polishing her blanket on it. That looked suspiciously like an early model "holy shit!" those were expensive.

"Elf then, with those silly point ears and ridiculously short skirts." Miss Slime looked at her notes, one of her skills seemed to involve sedating scenery.

"There is a distinct possibility you could be referring to me," the droll tones of a bored out of his mind dark-elf emanated from a bored out of his mind dark-elf who just happened to be hiding behind a humongous menhir. Unfortunately the wrong one and he was both somewhat singed and desperately trying not to regurgitate. "I also found this."

"Wao, a war maid."

"My maid, she answers the door and destroys neighbouring kingdoms that annoy us, hello Camel, glad you could join us."

"Sopwith!" The maid complained in a most maidful way. She had a cloak keeping the rain mostly off her and her wings. She ducked as Truly turned around and smashed the corner off the menhir with her weaponised bosoms. "Careful with those!"

"Don't worry, the safeties are still on."

"Maid, does that look like your BLANKETTY BLANK?"

"My what?" The maid looked at the entrance into the cliff.

Daisy pointed and Seymour the destroyer realised which particular BLANKETTY BLANK she was talking about. After the incident in the previous chapter, the one after the death god and before the baked bean cult, he was intimately familiar with Daisy and her bits. "General shape yes, details no."

"Good."

"Wait, how do you know about the great magician of manocide's BLANKETTY BLANK?" The war maid fumed, looking suspiciously at the incredible wall of chiseled manliness restrained by a t-shirt and wearing a leather skirt.

"Compulsory onsen scene." Daisy interjected in order to prevent Seymour the destroyer telling her maid anything. The previous chapter, after the death god, had been pretty spectacular. "Next time, you can join us, if you don't get lost again."

The maid was unsure if that was a promise or a threat. So, for that matter was the blue-haired bunny lolly magician.

Truly Unstoppable was most put out that she couldn't close the door of the RPG Toilet. She needn't have worried though, everyone else was busy reading the instructions for this particular dungeon having narrowly avoided getting singed going across the perilously narrow bridge over the bottomless chasm filled with mud, now burning.

"Ready!" Truly Unstoppable declared, "oh, hello Cleric Firm-Posterior, did you get lost too?" She left the RPG Toilet door open and noticed the picture of Princess Schmodly. Now Queen Doris. Clearly they must have been related, neither of them could see their knees when sitting.

"I dialed the wrong menhir and ended up in Creamcakestan. RPG Toilet? Gangway!" The cleric tripped over her robes and landed in the appropriate worship pose for the porcelain god. This one however was wooden and somewhat charred, it still acknowledged her righteous tribute.

Truly Unstoppable admired the particularly firm posterior of the cleric, then put her hands over her ears and looked away. Unfortunately in the direction of the pink henge. She looked back, that was safer. "Are you all right?"

"Crotz! Why is it always crotz? They don't even have crotz in Creamcakestan!" Fresh sounds of horrific regurgitation resumed. "Why's the seat all charred? Hoe~"

"I'll be over by entrance to the dungeon, shout if you need help." Truly Unstoppable sauntered across the narrow bridge. Keeping your balance was trivial when you had a prehensile bust. On reaching the other side she operated the lever to restore her war bra to normal stiffness.

The elf had a checklist, it read like a badly written another world story. One manly hero, one bevy of babes, preferably busty. A maid, just in case. At least one magic user, a lolly. A cleric if they got into a serious mess, an assassin and at least one extra. He turned over the page, "did anyone remember to buy a map?" At the bottom, in azure crayon and big round girly text was an ominous omen.

We have forgotten at least two important things.

The elf looked at the lolly and pointed at his checklist, she beamed at him with her best lolly smile and tucked her magic wand down her front. Her mini-robe had loops for it as she had lost her bra in a previous chapter, which was part of the reason why the death god had been so grumpy. The sword in his face probably hadn't helped one bit.

"Maid, why do I have y-fronts on?"

"How should I know, you're old enough to dress yourself." The maid had a sensible backpack of holding complete with frilly lace trim and a telescopic halberd. Also with frilly lace as that more than tripled its DPS.

Seymour the destroyer grunted, handing over a map and wondered what was wrong with the war maid, she seemed to be blushing a lot.

"Ready!" Cleric Firm-Posterior declared, looking sadly and the mess her robe was in, everything from the knees down was covered in mud. She stared at the blue-haired lolly in the sawn-off robe. "You were on the cover of Witch Which? Weren't you?"

"Oh no, you must be thinking of someone else. Isn't that right maid?"

"Totally." The maid wasn't paying any attention, having to buy tickets with the wall of testosterone she was dangerously close to swoon. She elbowed him and pointed at the sign.

You have to be this high to enter this dungeon. Adults 1s/2d, Cheesecake 10d.

"Six adults, one cheesecake. Party discount please."

"But there are seven of you."

"I'm a maid."

"You're cheesecake doesn't look tall enough."

"She's got her short legs on today, the long ones are at the cleaners." The maid negotiated smoothly, handing over a nine bob note.

"Stand next to the sign please miss, it's in the rules. More than me job's worth." The ticket seller explained.

Daisy did.

"Feet on the ground."

"I can't. These are my short legs, they don't reach." Her fluffy bunny ears were clearly above the line, "this line is metric!"

"Rules miss, they keep telling us we're going decimal next year too. Load of codswollop if you ask me." the seller handed her a copy of the abbreviated version. Then turned the guest book around and pushed it towards the maid. "sign please."

"Aquarius." The maid noticed, "Daisy, what year is it?"

"Twentyfive twentyfive." Daisy was actually being held up by Seymour the destroyer's handful of her mini-robe and y-fronts, she couldn't swoon if she tried but she'd definitely need a change. "In old money, I think maybe Recidivist Llama Zero."

"No, that's next year," the party scientist pointed out, "Amazing Alpaca thirty one."

"Thank you." The maid filled in the guest book.

"No smoking. Watch out for the Gygax." The seller handed the maid her tickets, "don't break any of the stalactites or stalagmites. The fines start at ten pounds per infraction!"

"We won't." the party scientist followed the others up the stairs. "Wao, my first type three inverted dungeon. Look at the striations!"

"Stop drooling," Miss Slime hissed at him, wiping his face with her dishcloth. In the hands or a trained professional like her, it was still just a dishcloth. "Mint?" she offered but he declined, coming to his senses rapidly. Two mints at the same time would go critical and he rather liked his head.

They ascended into darkness, the tunnel walls shimmering limestone worn smooth by countless long periods of time of gentle erosion by powerful natural forces.

"Seymour, I want to fart and you're holding my tail." A girly voice filtered down in the gloom.

The party scientist perked up, it had been scientifically proven that the unfair sex couldn't fart. Was this yet another cover up by those charlatans in Shadizar?

PON!

Fortunately they all had Davy lamps and no one died… Yet.