An extended cut of "A Night at The Cloven Hoof"

Perhaps something like the following happens one night...

"The four happily sip at their mugs as the belly-dancer's hip shake to the hypnotic rhythms of the south played by her dark skinned companion.

They turn their attention to a sulking brute of a viking sitting at the bar pondering the bottom of his tankard of brew as the burly man explodes

"Cursed Mummies!"

and slams his meaty fist onto the bar, making all the tankards jump and slop a portion of their contents onto the bar, all save for his own.

As many of those at the bar move to safer seating the door slowly creaks open and a tall slender man in purple swirling colored robes worn over a set of sinister looking black plate mail moves cautiously into the taverns hoppy, meat smoked filled depths. The man's glassy eyes roll over those inside and fix upon the sullen northman and moves steadily towards him. With a firm slap to the back he pipes

"Hail Viking!"

as a cloud of Lotus smoke bellows forth.

"How is it we came to be within the same dream? Hmm, friend Wolfheir? Perhpas we are spirit brothers or we have shared Lotus born of the same seed?"

Wolfheir snarls

"Fool Cleric! We're both awake. At the Cloven Hoof!"

The Holy man of Morpheus looks about awkwardly for a moment.

"Aye. You speak truth brother Wolfheir. Let me fill your tankard friend. I know you are still upset with me over the Mummy Rot. While it can be fatal sometimes the best thing is just to forget it ever happened and it just clears up on its own, I shouldn't have reminded you."

The Viking glared at him

"Aye! You think! Those Mithra bandits took me for 800 gold! You owe me!"

he accused with a finger to the face.

"Hmm perhaps..."

Televon said stroking his chin mechanically.

"I shall make good of it, brave Wolfheir."

Televon spun around to face the bar keep, then to Jesse the barmaid, then back to the bar keep and abruptly raised a finger

"BARKEEP! A keg of your most best yet cheapest ale! For LORD MORPHEUS! Requires a baccanal this night!"

and with that the cleric turns to the patrons of the Cloven Hoof

"Hear me Oh dreamers of Caladan! I, Televon humble servant of Lord Morpheus call you! This night I shall share with all, a secret of my cloister. An intoxicant of Lord Morpheus' own devising! Only sent to his most faithful! This night shall we sup upon it and revel in his gossamer embrace! Lord Morpheus' Moon Milk! Chasen thee to the Dreamer's Den at the Moon Tower!!!"

and with that he turns abruptly once more to the viking.

"Brave Wolfheir, please accept my invitation to this most fine of keggers out at the Moon Tower. The druid and I would like to unveil our latest endeavor: Lotus laced Honey Mead! Tis sure to be popular."

and with that he slaps Wolf on the back and spins and strides off kilter out into the night. The viking sighed heavily and looked back to his tankard.

"Fool cleric. Damn Mummies."

from outside he can hear Televon

"Come young Jack. That Keg isn't going to haul itself back to the Moon Tower! Lift with your legs Boy, with your legs!"

and the Viking's scowl held for a moment then broke and a great laugh echoed through the taverns hall.