and shouted "Score!" as Feyemoo jumped for it. When he missed he took a face slide across broken rock and pavement, screaming as he scraped his face down to the bone.
Figtle opened the picnic pack as Ficle cast "Cure Light Wounds", laughing all the while, at his brother. He poured a mug of draught from the keg they'd bought at The Busty Elf back in New Phlan. This picnic was what they needed to shake the horrors of Podol Plaza out of their systems.
"I wonder who all these guys were," said Fimu as she sat next to Figtle, a sandwich in her hand. She gestured at the piles of skulls all around them. Back when they'd first arrived at New Phlan this scene of ancient death and horror (hundreds of human skeletons lay in broken piles in the huge plaza they were playing Skull Ball- men, women, children, all dragged into the arena here and slaughtered, their corpses left to feed the birds and animals. Why? No records were found) would have paralyzed them in dismay. Now it was a place to relax while they picnicked.
"I don't know," said Figtle after draining his mug, the thick, highly alcoholic brew filling his belly. "Not too worried about it, to be honest. Think these guys will be busy a while?" He watched while Thiffling lobbed a pelvis from a broken second story building onto Feyemoo's head.
"Let me finish my sandwich," said Fimu, speaking with a full mouth as she gobbled quickly. "Then let's find a place while these morons play."
Figtle smiled and leaned back against the cold stone wall. Life was good.
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