D&D 5E So long and thanks for all the fish!

[BoldItalic]

"What do you reckon," she asked Sashi, "Beauty is mightier than the sword"?
"Could be, agreed her player, "It's a bit obvious, though, isn't it?"
"Just a minute, dear, I'll level you up and spend your ASI on +2 Charisma. There. Now you look stunning."
"So, if I walk up to a swordsman and just smile and flutter my eyelashes, he'll surrender to my charms?"
"That's the idea. Want to give it a try?"
"Oooh!"

The next door wasn't a puzzle door at all but was oddly marked with advice to charioteers: When in Rome, don't make a right. Beyond was an arena, somewhat larger than the well-known Circus Minimus, where a cohort of gladiators waited, equipped with a variety of gladii atque scuta ¹. As one man, they turned to salute their emperor, Tactician.

Verice walked forward, struck a classical pose with a jug on her shoulder and smiled. The effect was instant. The gladiators, as a man, dropped to one knee and presented their swords to her hilt-first, assuming she was a goddess. Then they set to, demolished the Circus and used the stones to build a temple in her honour.

Temple of Verice, in the Via Catena Operta ²
​

Meanwhile, back in the tavern, things were not going so well ...

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¹ swords and shields

² In case you don't know Latin, it means "The Way of the Secret Chain", an inverted reference to Sashi's monk archetype masquerading as a Roman street name. Don't even try to use Google Translate on it - it will get the cases ludicrously wrong and make no sense of it at all, thus ruining the joke completely.

 

[Craig Fox]

Late at night, in the drizzling rain, a mysterious stranger crept along the cobblestones, pressed up against the walls to shield from the rain, a hooded lantern in one hand to light her way.

She grimaced, knowing she was late for this assignment. Doing the rounds this evening had taken much longer than expected. There was the band of nervous neophytes who'd needed a very gentle hand and lots of persuasion to ease them into their first adventure. Other groups had insisted on driving a hard bargain for their rewards, and then there was the darned Cool Kids, complaining that the assignment she offered wasn't retro enough. What was with those guys? Only last month they'd been asking for skill challenges and inherent bonus rewards. But now, all she had to do was visit the most generic tavern in the known multiverse, hand off her task, and enjoy a well-earned sleep.

The mysterious stranger opened the door, stepped inside, and ... uh-oh. This was ugly. Like mutant troll with its face in a blade barrier ugly. You could never truly call a tavern crowd happy, but this lot were downright upset. Raised voices, shouts, glares like daggers, and a very nervous looking bartender who appeared to be the focal point of it all. The stranger deftly wended her way through the furious patrons till she was standing near the bartender. "What's up?" she hissed.
The bartender started, then glanced over. "Oh, just a mysterious stranger." he said, looking relieved for a moment. "This lot are angry because I just ran out of ale. Makes no sense, I always have plenty on tap for the evening. I think someone stole the keg."
"Have you told them that?"
"Tried to. No sympathy. You either give this lot ale or you don't count on seeing tomorrow."

The shouts grew louder. Heavy fists smashed into the bar. From more than one place came the sounds of splintered glass. "Sorry dude," warned the stranger, "this place is about to blow. Initiative rolls are almost here, and you can't afford to wait for your turn normally. You need to use the new Mike Mearls initiative system."
"What?" hissed the bartender. "We don't even have all the details of that yet!"
"Doesn't matter. This lot are still on cyclic initiative so you'll win. Unless you're Kvothe in disguise, I suggest you get out of here." Without another word, the stranger breezed back out the entrance way.

"Aw heck." growled the bartender, choosing to run. He rolled 2 on a 1d6 and dove out the back, a moment before a fusillade of chairs and broken glasses slammed into the wall behind him. Meanwhile, the mysterious stranger was quietly changing the tavern's sign. When she was done, it now bore a name.

THE PUB WITH NO BEER

 

[rgoodbb]

This was madness. She was going AFTER the clunking Cleric and slightly before the Quickling WTF. Initiative was so Fracked up now. A thug went flying into the Jukebox.


Wzzzzzzzzp.....Chain chain chains (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chains(Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chai-iai-iai-iai yeah!
Chain of fools!

Sashi, ducking a potted plant, and going full metal link, wondered where the heck they were supposed to be. was it...

A) In a room WITH ONE EXIT facing off against her fellow player characters
B) In a Tavern, brawling with all who enjoyed that stuff
C) Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama. Key Largo, Montego......
D) Inside the Tomb of Horderves battling 10 foot poles and extreme hunger
E) By a temple dedicated to the goddess PC?
F) High on a hill was a lonely goatherd, Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo

Nope.....Can't put my finger on it. For the love of this poster....Please tell me where the frack am I?.....

 

[Dannyalcatraz]

Stuck in the middle with you.*





* or ewe or Hugh?

 

[rgoodbb]

The rain soaked stranger decided to stay for a drink. She opted a rocking chair on the meziane balcony to watch the goings on downstairs. She looked at the riffraff on this level. on one side a bunch of mistrals practicing their 'funny' one liners. On the other a few children's entertainers made up in gaudy dress and costume. Gods she needed another drink. Luckily 'Nard almost landed in her lap. She felt the need to sing.....

Well, I don't know why I came here tonight
I got the feeling that something ain't right
I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair,
And I'm wondering how I'll get down those stairs

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right,
Here I am, stuck in the middle with you.....

'Nard was in love. It wasn't every day he got serenaded. Who was this lovely lass?.........

 

[Craig Fox]

While all this is resolved.

Bobuntil crouched in his secret hideout, brass welder goggles donned and hammer in hand. He did not cackle wildly, as that was far too cliched. However, his face was furrowed in concentration as he began the task of building a new Acererak.

"Wood didn't work that well last time, too unnatural. Maybe some eladrin hide - very hard to get, though. Hang on." he said, tapping his chin. "What about that warforged building tome out back? I can use that to build a shell, then blend it with the few spare parts of the Machine of Lum the Mad still kicking around. Once I add in a few secret and highly illegal techniques from the Book of Vile Darkness, I'll have the best Acererak yet!"

Originality and decorum be damned. Bobuntil threw his head back and cackled wildly.

 

[rgoodbb]

Casper!!!! Yes I have to capture Casper or some idiot from scooby-doo or one of the thirteen...

Warforged to be the body yessssss

Book of vile Darkness and Machine of Lum the Mad don't stack, in fact they hate each other. So only one.

Blood. I need the blood and tears of someone who sounds like they're from the fjords. Scarl....

Last item; an egg from a giant dinosaur bird.

Mix it blend it add a little seasoning and voila ......

.......Ghost in the shell! (wow that took longer than I thought) Definitely not worth the effort....M'not doing that again, just for one cheesy punchline.....I have to re-ponder my life now.

 

[Dannyalcatraz]

From a nearby windowsill, a tiny cricket twirled his cane and took off his top hat...

"I am getting too old for this !"

 

[BoldItalic]

Phinsk, who if you recall was a Halfling Warlock, quietly rolled for Stealth using some special muffled dice he prestidigitated into existence and got Lucky; his suspicions aroused, he slipped unnoticed into the shadowy back alley behind the fleeing barman. The moon illuminated the scene just barely but he knew what he was seeing. Oh, he knew what he was seeing alright, but he also knew that he would never be able to convince a living soul if he tried to tell anyone about it. He shrank further into the shadows, fearful of being discovered, for he now knew the awful secret of why the tavern had run out of beer. As he watched, hardly daring to breathe, he witnessed a seven-foot tall barbarian and his druidess accomplice hoisting full kegs of beer up into a trapdoor in the sky under the watchful eye of a genii in baggy trousers and a floppy hat. When the last keg was gone, the barbarian and the druidess climbed nimbly up a dangling rope and pulled the trapdoor shut behind them, whereupon it vanished without trace. Phinsk was terrified and beat an expeditious retreat.

 

[BoldItalic]

Ballnard gazed into the eyes of the masked lady with whom he had so suddenly committed propinquity and they both blushed as wild magic crackled between them. "Hi," he said, with devastating originality, "What do they call you?"

This being the 18th century and she being a well-brought up heroine, she replied formally "You are too forward, sir! We have not been introduced!" but then, such was her heart aflutter, she quite forgot herself and began a sentence with a conjunction!! "And if you would be so kind, sir, as to remove your hand from its current indecorous position? A mere quarter-inch to the left, perhaps, quite slowly, for the sake of propriety?"

Ballnard apologised profusely, stood up and bowed. "Ballnard Weird Fingers, criminal at large, at your service, ma'am."

"Oh, are you of the Devonshire Ffyngers? You perhaps are acquainted with my aunt, Lady Hortense House of Grumbling Place? I am Miss Terri House-Trainger, a poor relation with but five pounds a year and in want of a husband." ¹

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¹ Yes, I know it's supposed to take several chapters to get that far, but there is a tavern brawl going on and I haven't had breakfast yet, so can't we speed things up a bit?