For the past several days, you have been traveling a road that winds lazily across the rolling grasslands of the Greenfields. You have all met one another at some point while on this journey through the Greenfields and have discovered that you are all destined for the town of Greenest. You have decided for one reason or another to continue your journey in each other's company. You know that you should only be a few short miles from Greenest at this point, and once you crest the hill in the distance that the road has steadily been rising to meet, you should be able to see the town. 

(Feel free to introduce your characters and describe why it is that you find yourself on the road to Greenest.)

Have these other travelers had the same dream that coaxed me from my comfortable isolation? I've come a long way from that old hut in the mountains, and if I could feel fatigue I'm sure it'd be setting in around now.

Fine weather we're having...
Have they noticed there's no man under this giant metal shell to actually care about the weather? 

The weather is always wonderful around Greenest this time of year. I haven't been back here since I was a child though. What brings you to this part of the world? 

This one sure is bubbly... 

Guess you could say I felt it time for a change of scenery. How about yourself... Uh.. What was his name again?

Buddy the Elf. and you are?

Also why are those other guys silently following us? Do you know them?

An odd title for a human... You can call me Atlas, I should try to make friends with him... perhaps once we get into town you could show me around?

They have been rather quiet..
Rather good observation, I was just about to ask the same.

As you look at the people trailing along behind you, one of them steps forward and exclaims, "Serkjerk! Gaaaaawwww..." You see before you a large half-orc who appears far more orcly than humanly. He stands over six and a half feet tall, wears a small loincloth that has long trimming on the back that covers his buttocks, making it look as though he is wearing a mini-skirt from behind. He has a small, child-sized backpack strung over his giant bulbous shoulder and trapezius muscles. He carries a giant iron hammer in his right hand in such a way that the head of the weapon trails behind him as he walks. The weapon itself looks as if it was the first weapon crafted by an apprentice blacksmith who promptly gave up the craft in favor of crochet after birthing this hideous, unbalanced monstrosity upon the world. His other hand jutted toward his chest as he spoke the word "Serkjerk", as if indicating he belonged to it, and it remains there pressed against his chest. You noticed that as his mouth opened and closed while speaking that the giant fangs jutting skyward from his enormous lower jaw block his vision in the closed position.

He stands still, drooling, mouth open (in order to see), and looking back and forth between both of you before something on the side of the road catches his attention. He slogs over toward a smallish tree standing about 10 feet tall. You watch as Serkjerk begins to excitedly gyrate around the tree. This goes on for a few minutes before he pulls a small hand axe from his pack and chops the tree down in two powerful blows. Before the tree hits the ground, Serkjerk scoops it up in one of his arms and holds it tightly to his body as he slogs back onto the road where you are standing. He slams the hand axe deep into the center of the tree where it remains. He gently lays the tree on the ground and begins tying a long hempen rope to it. He turns toward you smiling. He points down toward the tree and says, "This Dug". He then continues to stand there with a stupid, gleeful, open-mouthed expression on his face, giant metal monstrosity in one hand, and leash-like rope trailing to the fallen tree in the other.

You're name is Serjerk? Is that Swedish? 

Serkjerk looks quizzically at Buddy and says, "Serkjerk not swish-swish, serkjerk deeeeep meaning." As he says this, he drops both the hammer and the rope from his hands and begins gesticulating with them in strange rhythmic patterns on either side of his body.

That movement... It's so familiar.. GASP! Just be cool.. he probably means something different.. 

So, Serkjerk, you and.. 'Dug' are heading to Greenest as well?

Quite the party we have here; A man who thinks himself an elf, A tin man, a simple Half-orc who thinks a piece of wood named 'Dug' to be sentient... This should be fun.

"Metal-man, my tribe need help! I journey here for help! Need strong warriors!" 

Where is your tribe SerkJerk? Are you going to Greenest to hire mercenaries?

"Why did you cut me down!? You oddly seductive monster! One tires of dragging oneself along across the dirt. But I shall, now, for your axe is the first penetration I've had in decades. I will follow behind you. And that loincloth leaves nothing to the imagination from my vantage point down here on the coarse chapped Earth. My spindly arms have not carried me in ages; rather I've reached to the heavens tirelessly waiting for a cloud shape approximately resembling an unclad woman. Yet as hard as I've stretched my limbs I still cannot grace the wispy flesh of her figure. So today marks the first of my journey to Greenest, where I will drink away my troubles faster than a Ford F-150 guzzles regular petroleum."

I slowly begin clambering across the dirt, about an inch per minute.

"Lead the way, you captivating creatures!"

Serkjerk watches as Dug feebly crawls toward Greenest for a couple minutes, not at all surprised by his sudden monologue, before tugging on the rope until Dug rests at his feet once more. Bending over, Serkjerk scoops the tree up in one heavily muscled arm and hoists him onto one shoulder with ease. "No worry, Dug, I help find naked cloud lady. Everybody come with me. No need go to Greenest if you come with me. We go to my tribe in Wood of Sharp Teeth. Magic orc will give Dug legs, and elders will give you many shiny things if you help village! Wood of Sharp Teeth this way!" 

Serkjerk turns to the northwest, one arm wrapped around Dug on his shoulder, the other arm dragging the monstrous great hammer.

(Here's a little map of the area, we are currently in the Greenfields on the outskirts of Greenest.)

THE TREE CAN SPEAK??

This adventure has taken quite the turn. Perhaps those apocalyptic dreams I was having were just the product of being isolated for so long. What has the world become, when a solemn man must help a chronic *********ing orc and his woody-friend find naked cloud ladies...

To the Tribe of Sharp Teeth it is! SerkJerk, you and your hard-wooded companion can lead the way!

"Serjerk... Such agility you have! This mode of transportation will greatly increase my will to live. Henceforth, carry me in this manner until I receive such niceties as the so-called, legs, and my much deserved -- nay, EARNED, shiny things. Do this for me my friend and I will bear the child your axe imparted in me. For I have the womb of a humanoid and by a stroke of curious ****ery I feel the weight of a tree-man growing inside me. However, I feel these cosmos don't allow for dual-charactership, I will have an abortion of sorts, sacrificing the child to appease you. And that shall be my repayment to you until circumstances provide me a more fitting reimbursement. Walk, now, strong man."

I close my tree-eyes and descend into a slumber of alcohol withdrawal symptoms and restless trunk syndrome.

Serkjerk looks at Dug hanging over his shoulder with a confused expression as Dug finishes speaking. He nods to the tree, unable to fully comprehend Dug's elegant manner of speaking. He isn't sure how to respond and just leaves it at that.

"TAKE ME TO THE BROTHEL!" Dug exclaims, still fast asleep. He begins whistling a jaunty tune. "ALE PLEASE," He interjects, then returns to whistling.

Let me dump some lore about Dug.

Many thought he was a dwarf when he was first born. This is because he was conceived in the womb of a dwarf whilst that dwarf was spinning a wooden wheel and spindle contraption she had rigged with an eggplant shaped wooden attachment. Apparently the wood used in her attachment had some magical properties that, unbeknownst to her, impregnated her. But there was not a dwarf growing inside her; rather, what sprung out months later was the first flower of a great western red cedar. Her initial shock was offput by her motherly instinct and she planted the roots of her offspring by a creek, thinking that a nearby source of water would be the best place for her child to grow up.

Years later, Dug was a full blown cedar. The largely stationary nature of his existence did not impede his ability to go on many adventures, most beginning with his uprooting or severance from the ground and the subsequent aid from a fellow adventurer to obtain travel apparatus and gear (javelin being a favorite for no particular reason). When his encounters with other adventurers were through, they would help him reroot and there he would remain for another few years. This gave Dug a lot of time to study religion and become infatuated with many deities but as of late, none have made any effort to involve him in their affairs so Dug has given up on such interests and is now known to frequent brothels and consume large quantities of alcohol during his travels. Dug has long dreamed that one day he would reunite with his dwarven mother and wooden spindle father.

A whistling tree... and I thought I was weird. "Well Serkjerk I would tell you I'm too busy to help, but I don't really have a lot going on right now so I guess I'll tag along. How about you Atlas?"