Submitter Tereza Blackthorne of the Queue on Nesingwary (US-A) has an epic tale to tell. "Despite an air of hostility, the Forsaken and Wildhammer forces had not had much choice," she writes. "Shadra was a great Loa and would not go down easily. Still, together the two forces had prevailed. The venom queen had been slain. Then it, predictably, went to the Maelstrom.

'Not bad fighting for a gryphon-kisser,' one of the Forsaken had said, giving one of the dwarves a grudging nod. 'Who yer callin' a gryphon-kisser, ye mangy bag o' bones!' the dwarf in question shouted back, hefting his hammer, still dripping with gore from the giant spider. The undead snorted. 'Bag of bones I may be, but at least I'm not smelling of stale beer and wet feathers!' The dwarf retorted, 'What!? Yer one ta talk about smelling! If ye smelled any worse me nose would be fallin' off!' It rapidly escalated to blows from there."

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