William Fence was my idea, not the bot's.  An attempt at humor 

William Fence reminds me of the time I told Google Translate to convert "Bill Gates must die" into Irish and it used the words "Na geataí billí" for his name.

I was actually trying to amuse a co-worker who is a native speaker.  He was amused all right.  :)

I guess this is close enough...

Like all adventures start, the party met after reading a flyer posted on a wall in the village at a local pub. The pub, as expected, was named after something typical, a Unicorn, or Pony, or Griffin or Dragon – something of that conventional sort. This was not a noble adventure funded by the village leaders to protect the citizens from an encroaching evil or looming threat. It was a sketchy proposition by desperate mercenaries with the goal of earning great monetary rewards for significant risk of bodily harm, dismemberment, and quite possibly death or dismemberment.  There were no Paladins at the table that evening, and the prayers of the Cleric were not answered by the Gods he believed he prayed to, but by far older, unspoken deities that civilized society shunned.  The gathered adventurers – really a group of rouges, cut-throats, thieves and vagabond mercenaries – thought they were discussing an effort for the common good of the land they inhabited – but really, personal greed was the motivation of every sellsword that sat at the rough-hewn table quaffing pints of mead, ale and wine.

The goal was simple, as outlined by the warrior who had called this gathering. An adventure in the underworld, near the edges of the kingdom of the Drow, to sail an underground ocean to an island where lived an ancient dragon. Ridding the world of the dragon was not the goal. Instead, the motive was to steal the hatchling eggs of this beast, bring them back to the topside world, and upon hatching, to be there to have those dragonspan impress on the first creatures they saw, members of the party – so that they could be bred, trained, and sold to kings and kingdoms as weapons of mass destruction. It did not matter which kingdom or king. The rulers of the kingdom in which the party lived where as good as the neighboring kingdom that wanted to usurp the local king. The goal was to become medieval arms merchants, and dragons were to be the arms bartered. There were no illusions about the plan, only on the morality. By granting all comers willing to pay the fee the access to these weapons of mass destruction – mutually assured destruction would keep all of the kingdoms in check for fear of the retribution in response to any first strike. Of course, those delivering this peace would be rewarded richly – and would have control of these resources by which this mutual destruction would be guaranteed and would therefore themselves be invincible.

The gathered miscreants had travelled and adventured many times before – and a river of blood, a pathway of destruction, chaos and death – often among one another, frequently spread like a flood wherever they had traveled. None of them were really friends and they knew not to trust one another.

Two of them had been brought back from the afterworld after bad choices spurred on by the rest of the party – among much grumbling about the cost to raise a deceased member of the party from the hereafter – resulting in the shuffling of great magic artifacts and large amounts of gold, gems, and other treasures, in order to arrange the raising of those who had been encouraged to give up their lives for the benefit of the rest of the party. They were not friends. They were business partners.

Had the Drow known this group was planning on visiting their neck of the underworld, their response would have been simple,
“There goes the neighborhood.”

First were two twin elves, Zeek and Zipp – always in that order. Like most of this group of adventurers, they were a couple, inseparable, who watched each other’s back – and who had skills that complimented the weaknesses of the other member. They were in it for themselves, but depended on the other member to step forward where their weaknesses were greatest.

The next was a wizard, in the traditional sense of the term. He wore a flowing, rough hemp robe, had long white hair, long beard and pointy hat wrapped around a sunken, weathered face. He was a purebred human, capable of great potential in the realm of sorcery – but young by the measure of warlocks, and not very experienced. What he lacked for in personal skill he made up for in a pair of great artifacts he had stolen from a far greater wizard – a Staff of the Magi – a rechargeable rod of magical potency – and a cloak of displacement, virtually assuring that every first strike against him would miss – giving him ample time to bring the destructive potency of his primary weapon against his foe. He travelled with his mate, a half-elf magic-user/warrior. He had enchanted her with a love potion bought in a disreputable magic shop. If his staff and his cloak failed him, he could count on her, with her sword and spells, to throw herself between himself and peril until he could bring his might to bear against the threat.  Elidor Moonphase and Kaie Moonphase. Husband and wife. Kaie was 50 years old, nearly the cycle of seasons Elidor had seen – but barely a girl in the lifespan of a Half-Elf.

The last part of this sextuplet was a Cleric, a priest who claimed to worship a God of Light – but actually was an acolyte of the engines of chaos. His cohort was a ranger, quick with bow, excellent at tracking, with skills of survival against the elements and the outdoors that kept his friend the Cleric alive. Cedric Pureheart and his travelling partner Smender Tallgrass.

Finally the self-appointed leader and organizer of the expedition – an accomplished warrior, mercenary and scoundrel, Tohmaz Juhnar. Less a knight and more of a drunken brawler – a rough-shod outlaw with a price on his head in several neighboring kingdoms, frequently involved in the dealing of illegal commodities and forbidden magics, spells, potions and whatever other black market products that might earn him a quick and tidy profit. A womanizer prone to relatively unprovoked violence. Savagely intelligent and socially manipulative – Tohmaz knew how to position any group of people to his ultimate benefit, and very infrequently miscalculated the next step he should make against those who he orchestrated into positions guaranteed to serve to his benefit. Tohmaz had been involved in a deal gone bad in another town or village, and had decided the heat had been turned up to high and that it was time to abandon his purists there before he found himself in stockades at the local governor’s pleasure yet again. Before he had left, he had let himself into his associate’s study, found documents about a great underground kingdom, with the lurking threat of an ancient dragon that even the nearby Drow city was terrified of. A ship of enchanted Obsidian was moored on the far side of a great subterranean ocean – and several days sail across this body laid an ancient underground volcanic cauldron. Inside the base of this crater was the ancient Drow complex that now served as the lair of an ancient dragon, and she was with eggs. The associate of Tohmaz desired to venture forth to destroy this threat from below before it visited its evil on the world above – but Tohmaz had a better idea – how to turn this opportunity into a resource for immeasurable wealth, power and control among the world of those who lived on the surface.

It is a start. I know the whole story - I played it. I just have to take the time to sit down and write the whole thing.