Rumble in the Jungles Belly

Surviving Chrisness is what this should have been called. Lovejoy took a level of rangering and then took control of our best ranger. I don't know what sick magic he used to persuade her but jungle love is in the air. Appearantly after her death (not near) experience Filariel's tastes have changed. What I once thought was elvish hautiness has turned into cold contempt for the entire party, save one, Lovejoy. I can only imagine what spurred this aboriginal love affair, but I for once am not down with the swirl. I have had to take point while she crushes on the indian in the back of the platoon. Not that I want to ride in the back, but please ninja. Speaking of ninja's I had to go smack one up all alone, ranger style. Where were my woodland kin? Holding up the rear, or at least holding it. HHhhhhhuuhh, maybe its just jealousy speaking, but I ain't puttin up with this much longer. Yesterday I nearly bit it, I was looking down my shaft at a short stout sniper, no jokes, and next thing I am buried up to my Handy Haversack in rubble... 6 feet underwater. Where were my ranged combat expert cousins? Courtyard, holding hands. I spent nearly 2 full minutes underwater, half killed that dwarf that was aiming for me, saw a water elemental fart, nearly lost my head to skiff of gnolls, finally when I pulled myself out of the water, rushed through the back door of the keep, and I had to drop a dragon skeleton with one shot to keep it from killing half the party. (Saved the party AGAIN, I have no idea what they were up to the whole time I was gone) And again, where were Failariel and Lovejoy? Hugged up against a wall next to the lieu. Well you can slap me in a coffin and call me Ishmael, but Thar she blows. When I get back to the Captain I am filing a proppa complaint. That will be the last time Fillairiel and Lovejoy get to play bringing up the rear. At least while we are on a mission.