The Final Delve of Gloin The Plagarised
Gloin had made a name for himself in the Free City rather quickly. After numerous delves underneath the Castle ruins, the stout Dwarf had amassed a small fortune in plunder, which he quickly squandered on ale and wicked sweet tattoos. While he spent his days becoming the life of the party throughout a number of fine establishments in the City, his adventuring troupe had returned to their grim work in the ruins beneath the Castle. After a number of weeks without any word from his compatriots, and having thoroughly exhausted his funds, Gloin fell in with a new group of fighting men and adventurers ready to test their luck. As far as luck goes, it seems now that Gloin had drank his away.
The dwarf joined his new companions, a motley crew still wet behind the ears, as they were investigating a most curious room. This particular area contained two bodies, freshly slain, and little else. Upon disturbing the scene, the bodies quickly withered away to dust. None of the party fell to any harm, and after a long time pondering the meaning of it all, they decided to move on all the same.
Moving along, these adventurers meandered past rooms covered in moss and fungus, through dilapidated structures, and empty corridors. The silence was broken with the most awful racket, the sound of crickets chirping. Now, when I say crickets, I really mean GIANT crickets, so you can imagine the sound they made. These infernal beasts were quickly dispatched, but not before a small group of Orcs wandered in. In the ensuing chaos, I am certain Gloin slayed many of these beasts, but a few crickets did escape.
Now, this is where things get a little dicey. Here is Gloin, a level headed, seasoned adventurer, telling his new compatriots that following after crickets was a waste of time and definitely not the way to earn the evening's booze money. Sadly, the will of the party was such that Gloin would meet his fate in a dank corridor, chasing after insects.
Gloin's final battle was far from glorious, so I will spare the details. He fell to the poison of a meglo-centipede, which I hear is adventurer-speak for One Big Fucking Bug!
He will be mourned!