Ponies scared of pots under forge.  After much debate . . . “Enough talk!”  Throw spear.  BOOM!  No more ogre weapons.

Ponies left the chilly hole with the head of a giant king.  Kali make fun by placing goblin crown on Barl’s bashed head.

In the forest, no escape for ogre chicken.  Kali chase him down and smash him good.

Ponies go to Fort Ronnick.  Gunman rude.  Sleep outside.  Kali and Borktuth enjoy many sausages and whiskey in the skillet.

Then go to spooky forest.  Give the finger to ghost lady.  She bless Mr. Firfus.

Kali come a long way from the two-bit gladiator arena, with thick hide and an urge to charge and pounce in a hail of flaming smashery.  Kali splatter enemies as burnt offerings to no god. Kali walk through fire now.  Eat fire.  Fire friend.