I woke early this morning, groggy and confused. Well, to be frank, it wasn’t this morning. But I was groggy.
For the record, when a lovely huntress offers you a pint of something she calls “Kungaloosh”, you should turn her down. You’re likely to wake up on a ship crossing the ocean to parts unknown.
That being said, I could have told you with a straight face that I used to be a Gnome. Indeed, the Taunka I told this to snorted in amusement before handing me another drink that threatened to sear the flesh from my lips before I passed out again.
A later recollection inspired me to visit my bank vault. I seem to remember stockpiling booze from a magic hat for rainy days. And my days are looking more and more dour as time moved on.
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