Finole's epic

Well, it was a day like most any other - at first. I woke up, forgot where I was, and found myself passed out on that bench by the bank like always. Shaking the cobwebs (ok - cobwebs made of stale Trog Brew) from my head, I realized I had awoken because someone was smacking me in the temple. I looked up to find my half-brother, Cervesio, there, smirking and thumping my poor noggin. When he saw I was awake, he said, "Mohr says Trak will be up tonight. You're supposed to spread the word." With that he left, before I could ask him to do a favor for me. Funny how he avoids me sometimes. Young punk.
Anyway, I spread the word to the rest of the guild, letting everyone know we had a dragon to kill that night. Sure enough, we had a good crowd turn out. Finole, of course, was there, since it was for his epic sword that we gathered. That sarky little gnome Forpar Fizfla had promised him he'd make a special lute made out of some pretty gruesome ingredients, if you ask me - and undead dragon guts was one of them. Many other folks showed to help, both from Valor of Unity and some of our many friends. Mohrmegil, our fearsome leader. Our lovely clerics Paji, Cllasy, Pennysiln. Saivor, who spent the day as a white bear. Treamus, Vryc, Hiemdahl, Scruetayp, Doebi, Kymn. And me. Many friends came too: Mague, Reod, Fordail, Auear, Thommas, Allrite, Treboc, and the legendary Viron and his lovely wife Selinaa also came. Did I forget someone? Mispell their name? Probably, I'm a dolt.
We met just inside the entrance to Old Sebilis and everyone readied for the battles ahead. We fought our way in to Trakanon's lair. Thommas did a great job of pulling, as always. Sometimes we had extra guests, though, and so our enchanters, Treamus and Auear, dutifully died on the way in.
Our tanks, Mohr and Allrite, were turned into scarecrows so we could enjoy their insane cackling.
Finally we made our way to the dragon's lair, which was then empty except for the Undead Bard, a poor soul cursed by Trakanon. He begged Finole to kill Trakanon, and promised to bring the dragon to us if only he could hold the Mystical Lute Body one more time. Finole, being the decent chap that he is, let him. He gave it back to Finole and then proceeded to try and eat his head, which we all thought was pretty rude, so we killed the Undead Bard and sent him on his way.
As the Bard died, Trakanon suddenly appeared. We attacked. Mohrmegil led the charge, and was instantly banished, with a nasty poison curse as a additional insult. Alrite stepped up to deal out some damage, and died bravely in battle. For some reason our
sweet little druid Kymn earned the dragon's wrath and died. Our clerics kept the rest of us alive and well ( I think - might've missed someone's demise, there, in all the excitement). I spent the battle hiding behind my cleric - er, I mean - throwing haste songs and such over our group and peeling poison curses off of Paji. After a short time, Trakanon turned to run, trying to flee. He did not get far.
Finally Trakanon fell to our combined might. Finole rather messily and a bit gleefully ripped out the dragon's guts (now really - why would someone string a lute with that yuk), and Trak also gave us a nice breastplate that Ford won on a roll.
We made our way back out, after resurrecting the dead, and collected banished folks on our way. We had some trouble with the juggernauts. Mohrmegil died while trying to rejoin us, and Scruetayp died when some juggernauts danced on his head, but finally we escaped Old Sebilis. Hooray!
A few of us were lucky enough to go with Finole as he completed his epic. He turned in some parts for a lute to Forpar Fizfla in Steamfont. There was a little excitement when Forpar, who doesn't like anyone much but REALLY hates Iksar, spotted Scruey. However, in the end Forpar kindly gave Finole the Mystical Lute.
We then made our way to the Dreadlands, and Finole completed his epic quest by giving Baldric Slezaf several pages of music and the Mystical Lute. Now Baldric could complete his symphony. In gratitude he gave Finole his sword, the Singing Short Sword,
along with a promise that Finole would be forever remembered when the symphony was performed.
Congratulations, Finole Truxx!