Time for our characters to gain a level or two, and start their next adventure.

Bridget, your time in Waterdeep is largely uneventful.

You tend the bar, schmooze the regulars, regale the fascinated flune puff with stories of

cloth and the tomb of the undying nation. It's as you're breaking up a bar fight one night,

that's something strange happens. You're in the middle of pulling apart two

gnomes who are at each other's throats over whether or not the Oxford comma is necessary.

Boon airs get out of my bar. It is. It is so necessary.

All right, legally speaking, as a matter of the law. It's embarrassing. This is still an open

question for some people. It's really embarrassing for them. It puts things in good order.

Now it makes sure you know what you're talking about. Now get out. Get out. I'll have none of that

here. I literally have in my notes, let Heath interrupt to defend yourself. As you're pulling

apart two gnomes and Dave the dragonborn about whether or not to use the Oxford comma, you are caught

on the chin by a wayward fist and your wrath of storm activates by instinct. The poor drunken

gnome that hit you is blasted clear through the doors of the squeaky wheel and into a very luckily

placed hay card across the street. Now at six level, you have thunderbolt strength when you deal

lightning damage to a large or smaller creature. You can also push it up to 10 feet away from you.

Well, I like that one. That came in very handy. Sorry about that mate. Wait, was he the pro or

anti-oxilla counterhouse? Sorry. Oh, all right. I'm putting your portrait up on the wall is

don't let this guy in. I don't even know why y'all have that grammar wall. It's done making a

sense for a bar because you're Hitler and Stalin. That's why because you're both Hitler and Stalin.

This is Heath. I have ran into this universe to yell about the Oxford comma.

He's there with Martin Luther King Jr.

...