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This thread is for serious conversations about the issues facing our fantasy worlds. It doesn't matter if you're a gravedigger in Waterdeep, a private dick on the mean streets of Sharn, an infomorph in the Jovian Republic or a Son of Ether in Detroit, this is where we discuss the things that really matter. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ We all know how it works. You're a member of a goblin mining outfit and your neighbors are a bunch of orc bandits, a mated pair of basilisks and a gray render all on the first level of your cozy little dungeon. Things are good, the adventurers who come by aren't too tough, you can dig out little bits of treasure and life is simple but also it's good. You're getting by. Then, all of a sudden, from below a bunch of trolls roll upstairs and drive out the orc bandits. Then they eat the basilisks. Next thing you know the gray render is gone, and now the trolls are coming around, taking your people in the night. They fight off the local adventurers, even kill a few of them. They killed Mialee! You knew Mialee, she came to your daughter's wedding! So then the tougher adventurers show up and the trolls get murdered. Fire and smoke, it smells like rear end for a few days, but hey at least they're gone, right? But now you have these level 8 assholes breathing down your neck, taking your stuff and leaving you without a pot to piss in! Then they leave, the adventurers stay clear for a while, and the troll corpses attract some carrion crawlers, maybe even a bulette. So now there's even more dangerous poo poo right outside your little camp and you can't even let your kids take a stroll over to the crypt to gather bonedust anymore! And this goes on, with badder adventurers in shinier armor showing up to kill the bigger monsters that come up from the depths. And then one day you're slaving away in the rat's nest of tunnels, fighting off kobolds for gold nuggets to take to your new dragon master. There's all these new guys, selling organic bottled artisanal ochre jelly and free-range mana-free roper tentacles. You can't afford to eat anymore, certainly not with the tribute you have to pay to the dragon. And when he gets tired of you, where do you think you'll end up? Out on your rear end, that's where! You try to look for another place to stay in your dungeon, but it's all been bought up by illithid mages and big city necroputer engineers. Your family has lived in this dungeon for three generations! This has got to stop!
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Oct 25, 2017 00:32
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| # ¿ May 12, 2024 10:58 |
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All these Elf Lives Matter protesters are clearly paid by George Souroboros.
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Oct 25, 2017 02:05
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can't wait for Uktar 4th when millions of antima supersoldiers will behead all magical parents and small shop owners in the town square
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Oct 31, 2017 11:20
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