--------Oriental Adventures Campaign XXVII, The Jade Regent--------

Here is information about the Oriental Adventures campaign, characters, and their backgrounds.

Dates of Session Play, each session is a Chapter in the Journal:

1st Session September 24th, 2011

2nd Session October 15th, 2011     

3rd Session November 12th, 2011

4th Session December 10th, 2011   

5th Session January 7, 2012

6th Session February 4, 2012      

7th Session March 3, 2012

8th Session March 31, 2012                                                 

9th Session  April 28, 2012                                                                                                     

10th Session May 19, 2012                                                                                                  

11th Session June 9, 2012                                                                                                     

12th Session July 21, 2012               

13th Session  August 25, 2012 

14th Session  September 15, 2012    

15th Session  October 13, 2012  

16th Session November 10, 2012 

17th Session December 8, 2012

18th Session January 5, 2013   

19th Session February 2, 2013 

20th Session March 2, 2013 

21st Session April 6, 2013

22nd Session May 11, 2013 

23rd Session June 1st, 2013 

24th Session  July 13th, 2013  

25th Session  August 24, 2013, final Jade Regent session. Write up is progress.                                                                      

---------------Characters and Players---------------
Dipaka the Healer----J B

Late summer 1268

Dipaka, my son.
My time in this body is nearly at the end. It has only been a year since I banished you from my sight. But in that time, the bitter rinds of my fruit have corroded my heart. I know kind words were few between us but one day I pray this letter will reach you.

You deserve to know what you left behind. You deserve to know the vows you made left your family destitute of hope or redemption. You deserve to know that you have killed your mother.

In my youth, I was lovely as the setting sun bathing in the southern seas.  Many were my suitors. Although your grandfather was not poor, I needed no dowry. Princes from a dozen kingdoms wanted my hand. A woman is never more powerful or valuable as before she is wed and in her full flowering. After her wedding her only value lay in the sons she may bear. I was cursed with only one.

I was given to the Maharaja Keshab Sen of Nabadwip. His harem was large, over a hundred girls. He quickly neglected them for his new bride, a true princess. My home was a palace of marble. I bathed in milk and adorned my toes with sapphires. Keshab was young and strong but he was no match for the Kama Sutra and me.

Then one spring in the year 1226, a caravan came from the Khan bearing his ambassadors, the Tatars. They demanded the surrender of Nabadwip and an annual tribute that would barely leave us our slaves. Of course, the Maharaja refused by sending the Tatar head back to his Khan. The next year, the Mongol Horde arrived.

We were made an example for the rest of India. The city was bathed in blood. They dragged my Keshab with their stunted horses over the rubble of his palace until he was a brown smear. They boiled alive all of the officials. They castrated all the soldiers that surrendered. I didn’t mind that so much, lousy cowards.

I put on rags and smeared pig dung upon my face and hid in a cesspool to avoid the raping. Every woman was a slave. This I endured for weeks until I could not stand the suffering any longer. I might as well be an Untouchable.  I resolved to drown myself in the Ganges.  Maybe I would be reincarnated as a sacred cow in my next life.

That was when I heard you for the first time. From within my womb you promised life and vengeance. I knew that I carried a son of the Sena Dynasty. You promised one day to restore to me what was taken. I named you Dipaka, after Kami, the God of Love.  I had to choose a peasant name because in those dark days we were still in hiding due to the barbarians that still ravaged our land.

Then word came from the east that their Khan, the Ape that Rides had died. Fell off a horse, they said. I laughed with maniacal glee at the fabulous irony. The Horde left our city. My prayers to Kali, the Goddess of Vengeance, were answered. At The Temple of Thousand Pillars, the oracle told me that you are Genghis Khan reincarnated. The day of your birth and of his death is the same. The oracle said that you were destined to undo all that he has wrought. I gave a sapphire to the Vedic and considered it well spent.

With the Mongols fled, we came out of hiding. I took charge of the rebuilding of our community. It was not easy. Where have all the good men gone? I cast about for another prince. They all shook in fear paying their tribute to the Mongols and refusing to look upon my face. You were my only prince now. 

Three years passed, the slaves have barely begun to rebuild the palace when the Mongols returned. This time they were even more ridiculous. They had shrunk with the passing of their leader. They still had the narrow eyes, scraggly beards and bad teeth but they were now only three feet tall. They rode on toy ponies that children used to ride for a shekel at the fair.

Their captain was named Munkh-Ochir Baatarbayan, the Monkey that Rides in their heathen tongue. He said the peasantry had told him that a prince of our people still lived and it was his mother that ordered them to throw down the Mongol totem. He ordered all sons that were shorter than him be put to death, again as an example of our rebelliousness. You were rounded up with the other little boys. (Those heathens can herd.)

This time Kami intervened on your behalf. You see I read his book the Kama Sutra and diligently practiced the lessons. I convinced the gnomish captain to spare your life and to put rice in your bowl. The things a mother will do for her only son. However, you lost all your little playmates. The price for their wretched lives was too high. I will do anything for love, but I won’t do that.

We again had station. You had tutors to teach you the classics. I hoped one day you would avenge your father. It would be a simple thing to strangle the little Mongol in his bed. But you were obstinate. I vow to shed no blood and do no harm, you said.  Instead of learning the three pillars of manly education, the sword, bow and lance, you studied anatomy, herbs and poultices.  What mother wants her son to be a doctor? I needed a warrior, or at least an assassin.

That was why the older girls beat you with sticks and threw stones at you. I told them it was your fault that their little brothers were slain. They would have killed you if it weren’t for that little Munkhy boy. 

You grew up tall and blessed with my looks. I remembered you had some skill with the pus and oozes of the peasants. Your hands were constantly filthy.  But the day you refused to treat the itchy merchant from Mumbai, who could pay, instead you chose to deliver a baby of the pennyless. I knew you were of no use. I will take no payment nor will I own anything of value, you vowed.  You were dead to me.

I threw you out on the streets. Somehow for years you managed to survive by bowing, begging and scraping. The mere sight of you disgusted me.  I demanded you leave Nabadwip never to return.  Fortune smiled upon you once again.  That caravan master hired you and your monkey friend.

It has been over 40 years since I birthed you in blood and tears.  Now with beauty faded, and my youth gone I hope this letter finds you.  I want you to know what I lost to give you life.  So heal all the undeserving of the world but know that your mother will go to her grave never forgiving you.
Princess Aishwarya Sen

Munkh-Ochir Batbayar (Son of Munkh-Ochir Baatarbayan), Whisper Gnome Archer-----BB

Background Information about Ochir:

Munkh-Ochir Batbayar (“Ochir”) is the son of a well-respected Gnome archer and horseman, Munkh-Ochir Baatarbayan. Although his family never achieved power or wealth, they are highly respected throughout Mongol lands. Ochir’s family had for centuries associated themselves closely with and fought along side the powerful human Borjigin clan, which, as the world now knows, gave rise to the great Temujin (Genghis Khan).

However, to fully understand the composition of Ochir’s character and the raw material which forms his personality, one need look no further than the circumstances of his birth and his legendary mother -- the recently beatified Baderhu Narantuyaa -- known by gnome and human Mongol alike simply as “Model Mother”. 

Like his father, Narantuyaa was a master rider and a crack archer in her own right. Although extremely petite (even for a gnome), she was an exceptionally tough and determined woman. As the Elders tell it, the very fact that Ochir exists is nothing short of a miracle; a miracle brought about by his mother’s iron will, boundless courage, and otherworldly determination.

On a cold January morning in the year 1231, Narantuyaa literally delivered Ochir on the back of a large European warhorse that she was riding while making her routine morning run to collect dung for the family stove.

Typical for the Mongolian grasslands in the dead of winter, the temperature was a brutal -35 degrees below zero. A relentless wind viciously knifed through the plains, producing 20 foot drifts in places. The flat areas were blanketed in a deep snow so hard-packed and crusted that her enormous horse could actually walk on top of it.

As a pregnant Narantuyaa finished filling her bags with the precious fuel, her water broke. The Shaman said that wasn’t due for another 3 weeks! Home was a hard 3 hour ride away. Worst of all, she immediately dilated and went into labor! Her blood ran cold, and her brow furrowed.

Tiny little Narantuyaa walked to the front of the enormous European beast and commanded him to lower his head. He immediately complied. She jumped up as high as she could and snatched the bit with both of her dung-covered hands. She landed on her feet, pulling his head further down so that his eyes met with hers.

At that moment the fires of Hell were faint embers compared to what burned in Narantuyaa’s eyes .

“Listen to me, beast, and listen well... no matter what happens to us, this child WILL be born. This child WILL survive. Do you understand me?” The raw power and determination in her voice would have brought even the great Temujin to his knees.

Narantuyaa knew that she had only minutes before her child would emerge from her womb. Still holding the horse’s bit, she looked deep into his eyes and ordered him to kneel. He immediately complied.

With the horse resting on his knees, she climbed atop and laid down on her back. The horse turned and gazed at Narantuyaa. She lifted her head and screamed, “Don’t you dare get up unless I tell you to do so! I don’t care if you freeze to death; you will not get up unless the order comes from my lips and my lips alone!”

The horse made a soft whinny and faced forward, giving Narantuyaa the privacy she deserved.

The horse’s warmth below her was comforting, but she was still dangerously exposed to the bitter wind and cold. She reached for one of her dung-filled sacks and dumped its contents. She then covered her lower abdomen and legs with the filthy burlap sack.

Narantuyaa took three deep breaths and began to push. Nothing. Suddenly, waves of excruciating pain washed over her. Something was terribly wrong. She reached down and felt for her child’s head. What she felt was terrifying. No head. Not even feet. She felt what seemed to be his back or ribs. Her baby was in a transverse birthing position. He was sideways.

Narantuyaa knew what this meant. Without hesitation she grabbed the pommel of the sharp knife on her belt, drew it from the ivory scabbard, and began to free her baby. Narantuyaa was completely silent throughout the entire ordeal.

A few moments later, the roar of the gale winds were pierced by the sharp cry of a newborn.

Upon hearing her child’s loud cry, Narantuyaa broke her silence and screamed at the top of her lungs: “I will not let Death take you, my Son! I give you life! You are Munkh-Ochir Batbayar!”

Moments later, Narantuyaa realized that she brought only one sack; and the one she had was completely soaked in her freezing blood. She had nothing else with which to wrap her baby. She slipped Ochir under her coat as if he were a stolen leg of lamb.

Profusely hemorrhaging and in crippling pain, Narantuyaa knew she would not be able to survive the entire ride home. She decided to go as far as she could and hope that someone would pass by. She ordered the horse to get up slowly. She barely had the strength to hold herself upright, even in the specially-designed gnome saddle. Mortal language lacks the ability to describe the pain between her legs as she sat in the saddle. She grabbed the reins and the horse took off like the wind.

Blood poured from her wound as she rode, leaving a bright crimson trail in the snow. After nearly one mile, Narantuyaa had almost completely bled out. There was no sign of anyone for miles, and she knew that she would be dead in minutes.

Her voice, so thin and faint that it was barely audible, was still full of steely determination: “Kneel, my friend. And please don’t get up until someone tells you. Thank you....”

The obedient horse did as he was asked and again gracefully went to his knees. Narantuyaa laid face-down on the horse’s warm back, her baby wedged between her belly and the horse’s back. She used the remaining strength in her tiny body to quietly sing comforting songs to her baby.

The Shamans say that as she faded, her last words to Ochir were: “Be fearless, my son, for I will always protect you. Always keep your word to others. Go forth and do great things...”

Eight hours later Ochir’s father, Baatarbayan, accompanied by a gnome Shaman and three human Mongol warriors from Temujin’s inner circle, found the frozen corpses of his beloved wife and the noble European beast. Baatarbayan dropped to his knees in absolute despair at the sight. He pulled out his knife and was about to slit his own throat when he heard his son’s faint cries coming from the frozen pile.

Baatarbayan pulled his son from his wife’s protective embrace and took him home. They burned his wife’s body together with her loyal horse, as the horse earned such a high honor. Ochir was raised collectively by his father, the family Shaman, and the Mongols of the Borjigin clan.

Ochir vehemently asserts that he remembers everything that transpired on that fateful day. Every gnome, and every human in the Borjigin clan, wholeheartedly believes him...

Aki, Spiritfolk Monk-----L T

The tale of Aki is the story of Japan.

Long ago all the elements were mixed together with one seed of life. This seed began to mix things around and around until the heavier part sank and the lighter part rose. A muddy sea that covered the entire earth was created. From this ocean grew a green shoot.  It grew and grew until it reached the clouds and there it was transformed into a god. Soon this god grew lonely and it began to create other gods. The last two gods it made, Izanagi and Izanami, were the most remarkable.

One day as they were walking along they looked down on the ocean and wondered what was beneath it. Izanagi thrust his staff into the waters and as he pulled it back some clumps of mud fell back into the sea. They began to harden and grow until they became the islands of Japan.

The two descended to these islands and began to explore, each going in different directions. They created all kind of plants for nourishment and medicinal purposes. When they met again they decided to marry and have children to inhabit the land. The first child Izanami bore was a girl of radiant beauty. The gods decided she was too beautiful to live in Japan, so they put her up in the sky and she became the sun. Their second daughter, Tsuki-yami, became the moon and their third and unruly son, Sosano-wo, was sentenced to the sea, where he creates storms.

Later, their first child, Amaterasu, born a son who became the emperor of Japan and all the emperors since then have claimed descent from him.

Amaterasu, the sun goddess blessed Japan with her light and warmth. She further created the Kami, spiritual beings tasked with maintaining the balance of the natural world. This maintenance comes in the form of protecting the various creatures and things on the earth that often are unable to protect themselves. Each Kami has a particular “ward” that it watches over, such as a rock, a plant, a creature, a mountain or even a region.  Some of the most powerful Kami were given charge of the imperial dynasties of Japan, including the Amatatsu.

However, Sosano-wo grew envious of his sister.  He lured some of the Kami away from their purpose. They became corrupt. They took delight in assuming fleshly form to exert influence and depravity upon the world. They became the Oni, spirits of deceit and evil.

Diametrically opposed the Kami and the Oni fought at the dawn of creation until all that the gods have wrought threaten to unravel.  Thus the gods to restrict their servants enacted the Laws of Golden Perfection. These obscure rules govern the interaction of the spiritual realm with the material plane.

Both races of Outsiders learned that their offspring were not hindered by the Laws as they were. Eventually the Tieflings were spawned and more rarely, the Aasimars. The struggle continues.

Mount Fuji, the snow capped holy peak of Japan is the site of the secret order of the Izumi Shudoin. The Kami of the Mountain for millennia has protected the monastery. His blood flowed in the veins of the monks that dwell there. Fuji is strong and silent. 

Aki was raised in the Shudo to understand his place. There is the Sun, The Moon and the Sea. There is the Mountain. There is the Emperor. There is the People. There is the Harmony. Then there is Aki.

He was taught the Shinto, the Kata and the Kumite.  This was all he needed.

The day he received his black sash, his Sensei served him tea and spoke to him. 

“Darkness and oppression is upon the land.  It will come to us here. Fuji will not defeat this evil alone.  I must send you far away.  You must see to the accomplishment of eight tasks before harmony is restored.

The Amatatsu Heir must be found.
The Amatatsu Seal must be found.
The Amatatsu Sword must be found.
The Frozen Shadows must be defeated.
The Heir, the Seal and the Sword must return to Japan where you will find your Voice.
You must journey to the Forest of Spirits and the House of Withered Blossoms.
The Ronin and the Geisha must be convinced to join the cause.
The blessing of the Emperor must be given.

Only after all of this have come to pass will our nation be saved. I fear I will not be here when you return. It may be your final task to rebuild and repopulate the Shudo. No, I did not see all of this in the tea leaves.

Cairn, Gnome Druid------R T

Background Information about Cairn:

There was a gnome in Nepal who was pregnant out of wedlock. The girl was brought to a cabin in the mountains to give birth in secret. When an obviously retarded girl was born the family knew they couldn't live with the stigma. They left the baby to die in the snow.

A wolf mother saw the newborn and nursed her to health. After a few years the girl saw a pile of rocks. She knew this was something beyond the vision of wolf kind, she knew it was from someone like her. From the pile of rocks she saw another pile of rocks, and said "this is me." Cairn knew her destony was with humans, but would it be revenge for her abandonment? Would it be forgiveness? Would it be to join wolves with humanity? Or be just a trail guide? 

Allegro Polo, Halfling Rogue-------M P

Background Information about Allegro Polo:

Curious and active, open but secretive, Halflings are among the least understood races. Short in stature and stout in heart, Halflings are always on the move, at home in any land but calling none their own. Most other races hold a skewed view of Halflings, despite their generally friendly nature and ubiquitous presence. Since Halflings rarely put down roots, they tend to know a great deal about the world and its peoples. However, this knowledge never makes them world-weary or jaded; their innate curiosity and optimism lets them see each day as a new opportunity. Indeed, it is a rare Halfling who can pass up an opportunity, regardless of the danger it may hold.

Allegro was born in 1250 to the proud parent of Fiorella and Nigel while in the outskirts of Venice on the sick wagon.  It was a humid evening during the last leg of the trip between the Amalfi, Venice, and Genoa.  The birth was easy, the child non descript.  He was the third offspring from the “dry” part of the Polo family.  The “wet” half lead by Uncle Francesco handled the shipping with family trade ships carrying the loads from Cairo and Damascus and other port from the east.  They docked in Venice to offload and disperse the merchandise to the land family wagons family for distribution.  The joy was shared with the entire clan and a few close friends, and families of note, the Alighieri, Blackstone, and Grimbaldi family.  The Polo family trade thrived due to a lack of internal graft or corruption. 

Adaggio was destined to take over for Nigel when due to retire since his older brother Felix was being trained to handle the wet half under Francesco.  His younger sister Agacia was held in reserve in case there was an opening so was trained with knowledge of both.  Ale did not care much for the sea; it was useful, for shipping goods over and had an abundant supply of inhabitants that tasted great, but held great danger.  While he was shadowing Francesco during his “Walkabout” when he was 12, there were 2 weeks of hit and run attacks from pirates during a run to Alexandria with a load of finished iron and wine.  Much of the time was spent helping repair damage, help with the injured, and prepare for the next attack.  No one had truly prepared him to face death and dying in such close quarters.  Playing cards with someone at first watch, then helping them walk to the surgeon while carrying their intestines in a bucket or helping hold them down some one as they sawed off a shattered leg, or even sewing them up in a shroud before the end of the day.  Sharks were always near buy it seemed to catch a free or mostly free dinner.   Francesco often talked about other adventures and happier times during the trip, but Alegro was not swayed.  Days of doing nothing and playing cards with family members or crew interspaced with terrifying moments of repelling Cyprus pirates and 'sea Ghazis' soured the thought of making a living on the sea, but he knew he could still profit from it.  It was during this time that Alegro had decided to make sure that he was not going to take up the wet side and stay on land and use wagons that can’t sink. 

The time spent on a ship, either on land in a trade wagon or a boat, helped keep the bonds that make a family strong even stronger.  Alegro lost a Great Aunt and niece when a ballista bolt hit the pot of pitch that was being boiled to repell borders.  It was a slow and agonizing death and one that Allegro will take to his death. 

Lo, (Ear-Splitter), Goliath Barbarian--------S S

LoKag Ear-Splitter formerly Too Much Saki


I am Goliath. Hear me speak. We are mountain living nomads. We don’t like other peoples. We are big. We are strong. We are mottled gray with rocky moles on our hard ass skin. 


I could tell you that I have a small problem with Saki but then I would be stretching the truth and that is the same thing as lying. Drunk I may be but a liar I am not. I speak because I do not write. I speak so Princess Pang Mei will understand why it is that I left my mountain home and come to be your protector. And also why my tribe, the Kathaal Tribe, has shunned me; which brings me back to my love of Saki.


I was birthed to the mountains on a cold winter day 20 years ago, (January 1248) by my mother Thread Maker. My father Chief Summit Finder welcomed me to the tribe and I grew up strong even for a goliath.


It was the time of the Golympics on Mount Emie. Our people are very competitive and every four years we come together to determine which of us is the best in the contest of Stubborn Root, Wrestling, Goat Ball and Drink-and Tell. My sport is the Cliff-Climb. To do well in the Games is very important. The tribe that wins determine which hunting grounds they may claim. It also let tribe work out their issues without bloodshed; well at least without much blood shed. Also it let a young goliath strut about his stuff so he may find a mate. And it is a time of much food and drink.


I was on my way to my event when I was passing Master Li’s wagon. Master Li is a Gnome brew master and brought the finest spirits to the Games. Keeva was standing next to the wagon. He is the son of the Chief of the Black Crag tribe who are the scourge of the range. They were well known for poaching other tribe’s territory and cheating in the games.  Keeva had in his hand a flask of Master Li’s finest Saki, something I could never afford.  


He gestured me over and asked if I like a sip to “calm my nerves”.


I said “where did you get that, the master will stone us to death if you stole it!”


Keeva said it was for all competitors to try for free. One sip surely couldn’t hurt. I was pretty nervous before the race so I took a sip. I had never tasted anything so good. It was warm and sticky and it tickled your throat and numbed your brain. It made you laugh and cry with joy. Before I knew it the flask was empty and curiously Keeva was nowhere to be seen. 


I headed to my climb brimming with confidence which every intention of winning. I knew this contest would determine which tribe would win the Medal Count. I would have made it too if someone didn’t put a stupid table in my way! I fell into the table at one end and flipped all the food at the other end onto the Chieftain Wives. Apparently this was the Bake Off table, although not an official event it was very prestigious nonetheless. The Yak’s pie landed on the Spring Mother’s impressive cleavage.  The last thing I remembered was my mother’s face turn bright shade of red, which was an amazing since her skin is gray as the stone of the mountain. Then mercifully I passed out.


When I awoke I could have sworn my brain was trying to crawl out of my skull.  To make matters worse my father was hovering over me with his brow wrinkled and frowning the word “why?” over and over.  I had no reply.  I owed the Spring Mother a new dress since the color of Yak Pie is not white.  We had lost the Golympics.  Our hunting grounds have been taken by the Black Crags.  Keeva had won the Cliff-Climb since he was a snake.


My father said he had to banish me from the tribe even through it broke his heart. He gave me my name, Lo Too Much Saki. My mother was sobbing when she turned her back.


I walked down the mountain. I hired on to the caravan. They paid me with Saki. I will redeem myself in the eyes of my tribe.


Never again will I not show up. Never again will I fail my family. Never again will I let snakes into my pants.


That is why I will be your faithful servant always. 


My life for yours Princess,

LoKag Too Much Saki 

Xiao Ping, (Aiko Kaijitsu), Human Wu Jen---------------J A  

Background Information about Xiao Ping:

Xiao Ping was born in the year 1250, the second legitimate daughter to Rokoru Kaijitsu. Her older sister's name is Amieko Kaijitsu. Xiao Ping's real name is Aiko Kaijitsu. Aiko lived in hiding with her sister Amieko under the names Xiao Ping and Pang Mei for eighteen years, until a fateful meeting in 1268 at a bridge in Ya’an that sparked a whole series of unusual events.

As a young girl she attended a school for Scribes. There she learned to read, write, and make laboriously hand penned copies of Chinese texts. She also was very bright, she learned a bit of everything, and has a chance of speaking with some knowledge on virtually any subject.

Xiao Ping was not as comely as her older sister Pang Mei, so the boys always passed her over.  She was often left to do the menial tasks around the house while Pang Mei cavorted with dashing young suitors.  Pang Mei sang sweetly and played an instrument, which Xiao Ping always thought was waste of time. The boys however, loved Pang Mei’s playing and ignored Xiao Ping.

Pang Mei even left Silk’s End for a time and went on an adventuring career with her friend Sandru Vhiski. 

Xiao Ping was not permitted to go adventuring as she was deemed too young. Xiao Ping thought that she just wasn’t wanted. Instead she studied magic spells and learned Witchcraft. Witches in China are called Wu Jen.  One day she wished that something would happen to make Pang Mei return.  A month later she did.

Pang Mei said nothing of her adventures, and then settled down at the Inn of the Iron Ox. She gave Xiao Ping a job there waiting tables, and their foster Father a station there as Major Domo.

After Xiao Ping and her new friends’ bridge adventure and the escapade at Lord Sywan’s Tower, it was revealed that Pang Mei was actually Amieko Kaijitsu, the rightful heir to the Throne of Japan.  The Amatasu Seal is the authority on the subject.

Xiao Ping has now been swept up in an exciting adventure, but may well continue to remain insignificant in her older sister’s long shadow. 

Pang Mei, (Ameiko Kaijitsu), Human Bard--------------T V (DM)

Sandru Vhishki, (The Caravan Master),Human Rogue-----T V (DM)

The Jade Archer, Spiritfolk Fighter/Ranger---------TV (DM)

Wang Chung, Human Bard----T V (DM)

Background Information about Wang Chung, The Eastern Nightingale (The true Bollywood Story).

It was the year of the Goat.  The barbarian horde had swept over the land plundering and raping the countryside.  No mare was safe.  The Mongols were insatiable.

The Princess Jasmine Pie had fled her homeland on the back of the mighty Pan Am Lung, The Dragon of the Western Star.  The Celestial Bureaucracy had sent the Great Ancient Wyrm not so much to save the Princess but to save her unborn child.  For he was the child of Shang-Ti destined to spread joy and music on earth as his father have spread order to the heavens.

The Khan, who was promised the Princess in exchanged for sparing her people, was not pleased.  He expected a virgin. The girl that was presented to him was heavy with child.  Even her radiant beauty could not prevent his wrath.  He ordered her people put to the sword. 

Shang-Ti watched with great sadness from up on high.  The Princess’s song of despair had moved him so much that he broke his own edict of non-interference.  He stirred himself from his Throne of Purity of Thought and Purpose and grasped his Staff of Chi and walked down the ninety-nine steps of Enlightenment.  There on the summit of White Plume Mountain, He gave the Gong of Krakathulum three sharp whacks.  Thus the Dragon was summoned.

It was known as the Red Day of Sorrows.  Nothing and no one was spared in the City of Peking Duck.  The Khan bathed in the tears of mothers and drank the blood of their children.  He had the Emperor skinned alive, then dried the skin in the sun, and then he used the dried skin as a condom to defile the Emperor’s mother.  Only afterwards did he look to attend the Princess.

Jasmine was gone.  Pan Am had flown her far away to Sichuan.  There in the peaceful village of Silk’s End she gave birth to a well-endowed baby boy.  He had long fingers and toes. His tongue was also agile and lengthy as was the rest of his …form.

He had a powerful voice that kept the Dragon awake at night.  He took to his mother bosom frequently and with relish.  

Since they were in hiding, the Dragon took the form of an old man who ran a brothel.  The Princess served as a hostess but kept her name, as it was very common for mothers to name their daughters after the most beautiful woman in the land.  On the boy’s first birthday he was baked a round cake (banh bao), which he loved from that day forward.  His mother gave him an abacus, a pen, a hammer and a lute.  The boy took immediately to the strings and the first note he played was “Wang Chung”.  This divinely inspired his mother to name him as such.

The Princess, the Khan and the Dragon.
                     By Wang Chung

There once was a Princess from Peking,
She had a face like a goddess.
Her skin was like a vase Ming,
All the boys she could care less.

There once was a Khan from the Mong,
He smelled like a dungy horse.
All his riding gave him a flaccid dong,
He hated all the world, of course.

There once was a Dragon named Lung,
He shined like golden flame.
The heavens sent him with shway fung,
He came to save royal dame.

In this song, the three would meet,
The bell bong, the gong dong.
Cling-a-ling-ding, Cling-a ling-ding,
Clang-a-lang-dang, Clang-a-lang-dang.

One day the Khan saw the Princess fair,
And his outlook started to rise.
He hopped off his jealous mare,
And banished all the lice from his hair.

The Princess saw the Khan with his ride,
She said oh I don’t think so.
You must be out of your hide.
I’m not going to be your ho.

The Dragon saw it was going to be trouble,
He flew down on the double.
“Didn’t you hear what the lady said?”
But the Khan was wanting to get laid.

In this song, there’s going to be heat,
The horn hoot, the drum thump,
Toot-toot-a toot-toot, tum-tum-a dum-dum,
Toot-toot-a toot-toot, tum-tum-a dum-dum.

Lung let out the loud roar,
The Khan shot him with his horse bow.
Lung gave him the fiery breath,
The Khan said I’ll be your death.

They fought all day and night,
It was a twelve-pack mountain dew fight.
The Mong ran out of arrows,
The Dragon ran out of steam,

Lung said you are ruthless,
The Khan said I’m going to beat you toothless,
In the end they both collapsed in a heap,
From either one not a peep.

In this song, there’s going to be rhymes,
So if you like it, I gladly take your dimes.
What happened to the Princess, you asked?
She rode off on the horse.
Clippety clop clop, clippety clop clop.
Clippety clop clop,  clippety clop clop.


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