Olga the Barbarian wiped “Womp Rat’s” spit off her face.

“It’s the traditional Githyanki greeting,” said “Womp Rat.”

Olga lobbed a juicy glob right back in his face. “Let me return the greeting.”

The halfling commanded the cell with the same intimidating presence that had made “Womp Rat” run off crying into the corner. “My name is Adenan,” she said, “and I am the mayor of Valia.”

“And you have just passed another test,” the githyanki leader continued. “Your glazed baby gibberling, stunned side of dretch, and imp a la mode had all been poisoned. The fact that you are sill alive means that you passed. You’ll have to forgive us our subterfuge, but since we turned away from the Lich Queen no fewer than a dozen imposters have attempted to join our ranks.”

At the feast’s conclusion, the githyanki–and the disguised party–all stood up. Except for one githyanki jailer, who remained seated until he slumped over dead.

“Put yourself in my shoes,” said Denny. “If you saw your entire team get captured, and then a githyanki said to trust them just a little while after you stabbed their jailer to death over dinner, what you do?”

Skeletonio cast a knocking spell this time, and the cells all sprang open. Their occupants, from Olga the Barbarian to the Yellow Planeswalker to the strange dirt-obsessed digger man, sprang forward in anger.

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