Screw our players! Screw them! How dare they not keep showing up, forcing us to accommodate them by coming up with random new games. I’m embarrassed by how many games we’re going through. Aaaanyway! The world has long been ravaged by a war between light and dark races, but recently this war has eased substantially, and adventuring has surged in response to try to clean up the continent of the crap the war left untouched.

DM: But that’s not where our adventure starts! Our adventure starts in a dark, deep prison, a dungeon of sorts. Our heroes – actually, what’s everybody’s alignment?
Dirzeari: Neutral good.
Skalturin: Chaotic good.
Mikas: Neutral neutral.
Gorbul: Chaotic.

A pause.

Gorbul: Good.
DM: He’s just chaotic. You’re playing the Joker? Sounds good to me!
Skalturin: Not to the REST of us, dude.
Dirzeari: Oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.
Skalturin: At least we’ll go out with a smile.
DM: You find yourselves in a dark dungeon, awakening from what feels like the longest sleep you’ve ever been on. You know you’ve been sleeping a while; how long, you can’t be sure. It might’ve been days – hell, based on how hungry you are, it might have been years.

Each part member is in their own small cell, imprisoned by pathetically rusty bars. The game immediately pauses for a while as the players finish off their characters.

Mikas: Here’s a question. If I jump and fire my bow at the same time, does that count as an attack from higher ground?
DM, Skalturin, and Gorbul: No.
Mikas: I’m just sayin’, man, people do that shit in Halo all the time. I thought it made their bullets stronger.
Skalturin: My starting equipment? Zoot suit.
DM: (collapses, whimpering in pain)

The DM comes up with a horrifically sadistic rolling method: roll 3d6, and any stat over 10 has to be ‘confirmed’ by rolling that number or above on a second roll. Skalturin tests this, and rolls 8 Strength, 11 Dex, 6 Con, 8 Int, 13 Wisdom, 9 Cha. He is disgusted and vows to switch to rolling a d30 for his attacks… and never manages to roll above 10 in several practice attempts. The DM attempts to find a picture of him by searching ‘brony’ on the internet.

DM: I had to segue past the disturbing images. And by disturbing, it wasn’t that bad, it was just a pony with a hole in the back of it.
Skalturin: Oh. The Lyra plushie.
DM: (giddily) He knows exactly what it is!
Skalturin: We’re all not proud of that, collectively, as a whole.
Gorbul: Can’t you guys just call yourselves “MLP fans”? Seriously? Please. ‘Cuz ‘brony’ has got just a negative connotation to it now… There’s some very sad individuals out there who call themselves bronies…

Skalturin sinks into quiet depression at this sign of how bad the fandom has gotten. The characters start selecting miniatures and placing them on the battle map, but the DM is distracted by an internet quiz he feels obligated to spring on Skalturin.

DM: Do you know Pinkie Pie’s scientific Latin name?
Skalturin: I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.
DM and Gorbul: You DO know it!
Skalturin: What’s your point?
DM: Your wardrobe is 20% cooler…
Dirzeari: Amazingly, he’s not wearing that T-shirt tonight.
Gorbul: Yeah, I’m kind of disappointed in you, Skalturin.
Skalturin: Oh, I see how it is! If I don’t wear it, you’re disappointed. If I do wear it, you’re disgusted!

After a lot of yapping, Skalturin smashes through the rusted iron bars of his cage and into the hall.

Skalturin: “Who is here?”

Silence.

DM: Everyone else apparently is still asleep…

The others finally answer, and they rip or smash their way out of their cages without any real incident. They spy a rusted-over torture chamber near their cells, and roll some Spot checks!

DM: Oddly enough, amidst all this dust and dirt, you find an oddly new journal, leatherbound, it feels new to the touch. Very out of place.
Skalturin: I toss it to one side. I’m illiterate.
Dirzeari: I’ll pick it up…
Mikas: I roll a 21, do I…?
DM: No, you saw it, he just saw it first and went, “Maah! Reading!” and threw it aside. Looking at the journal, it seems to be one of the warden or someone who knows a great deal of this particular location. It goes into details, a bit about his history, why it’s here, but moreso about the last four that came in. The worrying part about this journal above all else is the dates. As far as you remember, the current date is about a hundred years before these journals—
Skalturin: Stop looking at me! I’m the only one who doesn’t know this, unless they tell me!

The group hears goblins through the door on the other side of the cells, babbling about hiding from a group of adventurers. Their dog furiously barks at the door, but the goblin is unable to open it! After a moment, Skalturin smashes the door down with a mighty kick.

DM: Swinging the door open, smacking something – the door seems to go bam. Hits something and sort of stops. You hear, “Ow! Who did that? Aah, big things! Big things!”

Initiative! Also the players finally pick names for themselves now. Mikas steps 10 feet back to gain skirmish and fires her bow into the fray, but misses. The DM starts rolling many, many dice.

DM: A whopping 3 points of damage.
Skalturin: Welp, I’m dead.
DM: Damn! I hope you’re not! If you’re dead at 3 hit points, well, I might as well kill all of you with these goblins.
Mikas: Skal got tetanus from those rusty bars.

Skalturin crits a goblin with his spine (skarn racial trait) for 14 damage, then claws a goblin for 5.

DM: “Aaaaah!”
Skalturin: Was that a death scream?
DM: “He was my lover!” He’s not dead.
Skalturin: Then I attack him with my other claw. 6 points of damage.
DM: “Ow! I hurt so much! I will make you pay!”
Skalturin: “Die!”
DM: “No!”
Skalturin: “Damn it!”
DM: Now it’s Gorbul’s turn.
Gorbul: I don’t know what to dooo!
Skalturin: Use an invocation!
Gorbul: Oh yeah, that’s what I forgot to grab…

Gorbul swiftly choose invocations! …none of them are useful. The dogs bound forward, attempting to slay Skalturin, but every one misses. Mikas and Dirzeari fire into the dogs for some damage, and a goblin deals 2 points to Skalturin. Skalturin downs a goblin and whacks a dog.

Gorbul: Five points of fiery breath damage to those two.
Skalturin: How long is your recharge on that?
Gorbul: If it’s a cone, fifteen feet.

Silence. For the record, the DFA has no cooldown on its breath weapon. The dogs continue to fail miserably. The players quickly slaughter the remaining foes without comedy.

DM: Where’s my loot list? No, that’s the brony page…
Skalturin: That’s the ‘too good’ loot list. “Oh look! Excalibur.”

The group IMMEDIATELY forces Mikas to record the loot. Mikas responds by attempting to steal all the loot.

Skalturin: (innocently) I can’t do the loot list in this campaign because I’m not literate.
Gorbul: …that’s a poor excuse.
Mikas: Seriously, dude.

They step into the goblin room properly and begin searching it, immediately finding another journal. Mikas picks it up.

DM: It almost seems to be addressing you personally, as if it knew, whoever left it here, that you would be the one to pick it up.
Skalturin: Messrs. Wormtail, Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs tell you to please mind your own business…
DM: “I see that you are the one to find it. Good, for the one who cannot read would just toss me to the ground like he did last time.”
Skalturin: I threw it to the ground!
Dirzeari: I’m an adult!
Gorbul: Do we find our equipment?
DM: Yes, like I said, when you first woke up you looked through your equipment and found your stuff. You are incredibly hungry, not starving, but if you have food, eat it.
Gorbul: A little ale. (mimes drinking)
Mikas: Why are you always a drunk? In every campaign!
Gorbul: Who says I’m drunk? I wanted some ale! Anyone want a drink?
Mikas: Yeah, I kind of do.

The journal informs them that they allowed themselves to be brought down here and put to sleep. Choosing not to angst over this prospect in the middle of the dungeon, Mikas heads over to a door to listen.

Skalturin: “So. You breathe fire, you shoot, you cast, I claw.”
Gorbul: “Seems like a good balance.”

They open a door, head in, and as the DM leans in to draw the map it gets alarmingly cozy.

Mikas: Hi. Oh. Oh! Oh yeah! OH GOD I’M IN HEAVEN!
Gorbul: The homoeroticism in this room is so high! Why is it so high?! Outside of this group I’m very hetero…
Skalturin: Don’t look at me, I brought my own girlfriend.
DM: What’re you talking about. Secret boyfriend!
Mikas: Brokeback Mountain!

Skalturin ventures down the hallway, and his miniature is promptly fired for being too unstable. A skeleton crashes up against the bars to harass him, but is unable to break through the bars to harm him. He summons Gorbul, who promptly slays each skeleton with a blast of fire breath.

Mikas: So they weren’t skeletons, they were people, but they were so thin and frail from malnourishment they LOOKED like skeletons. Alignment shift.
DM: He’s chaotic, it doesn’t matter.
Gorbul: I put them out of their misery.

Skalturin hears breathing on the other side of the far door, and takes a quick peek in.

Mikas: You see Darth Vader on the other side of the door.
Skalturin: This is like that Birthright… Gorgon’s Alliance, where it’s like, the random low-level dungeon, all of a sudden, there’s the Gorgon.
Gorbul: Yeah… what the fuck was up with that?

The foe on the other side: a black dragon! Gorbul judges it to be weak and malnourished, and the group debates whether to fight it or leave it be. Realizing the layout gives them an advantage, they elect to hurl the door open, then have the melee hide in the cells while the ranged attackers fire from well out of its range. They promptly put this into effect.

DM: “Creatures stir! For long have I slept… time to feed!”
Skalturin: Does anybody NOT speak Draconic?

Silence.

Skalturin: Excellent.

They continues to unload pain into the monster! Mikas discovers she’s been failing to add her +4 Dex modifier to her ranged attack rolls.

Mikas: Holy shit, I’ve been hitting a LOT recently!

The dragon storms down the hallway. Skalturin teleports into its former room to prepare to attack from behind. Gorbul discovers his five points of fire damage are warded away, but the dragon’s breath weapon only deals 8 acid damage to Dirzeari. Ranged attacks continue to fly!

DM: “Wait! No! Don’t!”
Gorbul: “Your kind deserves death, chromatic.”
DM: “Spawn of my enemy! I will enjoy eating you with the last of my strength!”
Dirzeari: “How quickly you turn!”
Gorbul: …he’s not big enough to eat me whole.
Skalturin: He has a feat.
Gorbul: Oh no!
DM: He was going to go the whole nine and he missed every single one! This die sucks! You managed to deftly dodge not only his bite, his two claws, and somehow he fit his tail in there – all of it missing!
Skalturin: 26 points of damage to him from three of my four attacks.
DM: Jeez! It’s dead. As he gets shot from the lightning, you pierce through him.
Skalturin: I just burst through his chest.
DM: Bursting from his gullet, you find—
Skalturin: I find a paladin!
Gorbul: “Hello.”

They loot the hell out of the place, and the DM notes that they have silver pieces with the symbol of the eagle and a nation’s mark. The DM draws it.

Mikas: I like how the DM is like, “Let me draw this so you guys can see it,” and he makes it as small as he possibly can in the corner of a piece of paper…

The DM sets Gorbul to draw it instead, and describes the easily-heard flurry of activity behind the only other door they can go to. Peering in, they spot skeletons, to their dismay – no one has a bludgeoning weapon! The game pauses for pie and mocking of the Street Fighter movie.

Gorbul: Let’s do this. Soldier through the pie.
Skalturin: Shoulder through the pie, if you’re the DM.
DM: Shut up. I’m ashamed of my inability to say that word. (pause) My shame in saying that word pales in comparison to your shame over your rampant bronyism.
Mikas: Natural 20, I crit!
Skalturin: THE DOOR’S CLOSED!

They hurl open the door, after falling into position, to see the two skeletons approaching the T intersection! They ready themselves for battle!

DM: You watch as the two skeletons cross paths and continue on their way. They sorta passed each other and now they’re walking the opposite direction.
Mikas: You’re an ass. We set up this big booby trap…

They fire anyway! The skeletons fight off much of their damage with the DR 5/bludgeoning, but Gorbul’s flame breath and the volume of attacks overcome them. Mikas moves to skirmish.

Mikas: Ohhhhh, I rolled a 1.
Skalturin: (resigned) How much damage do I take.
DM: First, roll another attack against his AC.
Mikas: 19.
DM: She does not get the shot off before she trips and smashes her face into his wall, dealing 3 points of subdual damage and a whopping 20 points of pride damage.
Mikas: Oh my god. This is terrible! Oh my god!
DM: She tripped and smashed face-first into the wall, hoping that no one saw it. You look around to see that everyone is watching.
Mikas: Even the skeleton stops.
DM: You get the idea that if the skeleton had the lung capacity and intelligence to laugh, it’d be laughing right now.

Dirzeari demolishes the skeleton handily, and Skalturin kicks them apart so they don’t reanimate or something. They search the corpses and a pile of gold flies out into a neat stack on the ground, Diablo-style. The two people with actual Listen ranks split up to listen at the two doors on either end of the T. They both hear shuffling, at varying degrees of distance.

Mikas: Is there a keyhole?
DM: Yes, but it appears to be filled with white.
Dirzeari: COCAINE!
Mikas: I’m gonna snort everything out of that keyhole.

Mikas’s door is jammed, though the DM notes that the skeleton had just come through here, so how could that be? They head through Skalturin’s door instead, finding the room behind to be highly boring and advancing onwards. Continuing on, they find a room full of weapon racks, one of which is a masterwork longsword. No one can really use longswords, so this is kind of awkward, but Mikas takes it and moves up to the next door. Again, she hears shuffling!

Mikas: Is there a keyhole?
DM: …No.

They boldly advance… into the supply closet. Mikas starts searching. The DM gloatingly goads her to move her mini into the room properly, leading the players to roll their eyes.

DM: As you step in and begin to search, one of the barrels just pow! Crashes into you.
Mikas: Ow?
DM: (rolling) Happily, it seems to just… soar past you, because it missed.
Skalturin: It failed to barrel into you.
Mikas: Okay, that -- I’ll take that one, that was good. Jesus. God help me.
Skalturin: When I see it flank, can I take a cask of opportunity?
DM: On the barrel itself, which—
Gorbul: I think you missed it. Which you’re probably better for.

There’s no sign of an assailant as they roll initiative. A door starts slapping Skalturin, but it’s more of a nuisance, and he eventually just rips the damn thing off its hinges and sets it aside. The DM cackles as they encounter the… mimics?

DM: Standing near the weapon rack, as the weapon rack sort of crashes against your back, doing minimal – one point of subdual damage as it’s now leaning against you.
Dirzeari: Ohh…
DM: The rusted weapons clanging all over the place, luckily the bars hold in place. The two tables next to you seem to spring up and try to close you between them – sorry, the two weapons racks. Attempt to sandwich you.
Skalturnin: He keeps describing it, if he had described it one more time I’d have been like, “I step out of the way.” Because clearly that’s what he was looking for.
DM: A whopping four points of damage from all the stuff flying your way. But inside the room, sladly—
Gorbul: Sladly?
DM: Saddily. He receives the brunt of the flying barrels and boxes this time, dealing a whopping six points of subdual damage.

Creatures form up out of dust and detritus once the havoc is completed, menacing the PCs ominously. The players attack them in a surprisingly focused and not-distracted combat for the first time in the history of this group; it isn’t hilarious. They plunder the room, and then Mikas heads over to the next door. A whistling from behind it offers no clues as to its contents, so in they head.

DM: The walls are lined with books.
Skalturin: Oh fuck no.
Mikas: Oh Jesus.
Gorbul: Like my colon. These walls are lined. Lined with books.
Skalturin: Wow, name one room description in D&D that would not be made a million times worse with the words ‘like my colon’ preceding it. “Like my colon, the walls are dank and musty.”
DM: Along the wall are two vaporous entities.
Skalturin: Like my colon, there are two vaporous entities.
DM: They seem to be not paying any attention to you.

The ghosts are fixated on their books, and the party is relieved by this, because seriously, screw ghosts. Mikas creeps by to listen at the next door.

DM: There’s a lot of commotion coming from this one. This is probably where most of the sound was, the last few times you listened you always heard background sound, this is it. It’s the sound of a lot of things shifting around. Not big things, just things.
Skalturin: (singing the Sorcerer’s Apprentice music)
Mikas: “I think it’s a room filled with mimics and other crap that’s gonna come flying out at us.”

The DM leans over to draw the map. It gets frisky.

Gorbul: Come on, DM, don’t you want to join the sodomy?
DM: Heh heh. No. (muttering to himself) I need a big one… In the center is a very large… larger than the other. Around him are tables and chairs, seem to be shifting about on their owns.
Mikas: Dragon?
DM: No, it’s just a big ghost. Larger than the other ones, it seems to be floating up in the air. It’s a very large room, like a meeting hall maybe.

Mikas relays this information. Those behind her notice the sword they’d looted earlier gleaming. Mikas draws it, and moves it closer to one of the nearer ghosts, discovering that it has an apparently inimical effect. Mikas rolls a d20.

Mikas: …I’m not going to declare what that was.
DM: I assume you just broke the weapon. Let me just close the book on this campaign real quick.
Mikas: I hope you guys enjoyed the one-shot!

Mikas puts the sword away and steps into the next room.

DM: The ghost seems to be sort of swaying his arms. You called it and I HATE you for it. He’s guiding the tables and chairs, a la fucking Mickey, except there’s no purpose to it because they’re tables and chairs. They’re not cleaning anything.
Skalturin: That explains why the other door was blocked up!

Mikas cheerfully refuses to draw the sword, and the groups steps in. They mostly dodge the flying debris without incident, the difficulty to do so not being very high.

Mikas: They don’t like the sword, but they’re not really fucking with us, so I’m just gonna move on!
Skalturin: Until he realizes your clothes are an object he can manipulate.
Mikas: Oh jeez no, dude, don’t do that.

The DM draws in a staircase going up and other doors. The players immediately head for other doors! They head for the south door, or what we’d call south on the map maybe?

DM: The moment you grip the handle to open it… “Not... for you.” All the chairs stop moving for a second as he turns to you.
Mikas: I’m gonna let go of the handle real quick.
DM: You let go of the handle. The chairs start to shift again and he turns back to his task.

They head for the other door! Inside is another caretaker surrounded by books – and there are SPIDERS! Debating their options, they decide to let Skalturin teleport into the forbidden room. He does so!

DM: He stops a moment, sort of turns. “Your friend… will suffer.” And he continues what he’s doing. What you see on the side… (drawing)
Mikas: A harem. You see a harem with lots of beautiful naked women. To a ghost, that’s suffering.
DM: In front of you – this room seems to go up forever. You can’t tell what effect is causing it to look this way. You know that the ceiling should not be this big. But it is. In front of you is a tall door, a shimmering blue pool rests in front of it. Up above, it just seems to go off to almost a light. Are you going up to the pool?
Skalturin: I am approaching it.
Mikas: Stargate.
DM: Bwam! 250 point of lethal damage.
Skalturin: Being suspicious, I prod it with my crowbar.
DM: Something grips it. You feel a tug.
Skalturin: I tug back. Only 12, didn’t go so well.
DM: You still holding on to it?
Skalturin: Trying to, unless it’s gonna suck me in.
DM: It’s trying to.
Skalturin: One last shot? Ooh, much better, 22.
DM: You’re able to hold your ground. You begin to pull back, and as you do that, the portal now changes. The ceiling seems to almost crash into you. Blood begins to pour down from the ceiling. The room seems to change around you. The walls seem almost organic, skinlike. Blood pours in, the portal is now a deep red.
Skalturin: From the outside does the door look like a mouth to them now?
DM: They see nothing. You see what looks like an eye has opened up, it appears to be watching you. There’s no door there any more, just an eye. And as you stand there peering, tendrils of liquid seem to coalesce around, trying to wrap around you.
Gorbul: …was this part inspired by that one game you’ve been playing?
DM: …kinda, yeah.

Skalturin teleports the hell out!

Skalturin: “…that’s fucked up.”
Gorbul: “So you’re saying we shouldn’t go that way.”
Skalturin: “Do you like your sanity?”
DM: “Not… for you.”

The ghost smirks at them smugly, causing Mikas to contemplate attacking. He chooses not to, mainly because he’s the only one with an applicable weapon.

Skalturin: That was pretty informative, in a sort of ‘go mad from the revalation’ sort of way.
Mikas: And now you’re like, “Fuck, I lost a crowbar!”
Skalturin: No, I ripped that thing away. If the pits of hell want my crowbar, they can come and take it from me!
Mikas: …I think they WILL.
Gorbul: What’s your Wisdom?
Skalturin: 12?

The door disappears arbitrarily, to the befuddlement of the players. Skalturin mentions that he’s only introduced himself as ‘Skal’ to the others.

Skalturin: My full name I haven’t told you.
Gorbul: Because he’s a jerk.
Skalturin: No, because I’m ashamed of it. This character actually has, you know, history and backstory. He’s not just a giant compilation of stats. There’s a little to him.
Dirzeari: Oh really.
Gorbul: Nonsense.
Skalturin: Okay, you’re right, he’s just a name. Just a name and a bunch of numbers that are optimized for doing damage.
DM: What’s your first name?
Skalturin: Skalturin.
DM: Skalturin Bronysmithin.

The discussion goes down a strange path.

DM: If friendship is magic, this place is a null zone.
Skalturin: If friendship is homoeroticism, we’ve got the Elements of Harmony.

The group bemoans their missing player, as his absence has apparently removed a limiter on the darker depths of humanity.

Skalturin: Come back and make us straight again! Someone text him that…

Eager to fight, they smash into the other room and engage the spiders. One spider rears up to bite Skalturin!

DM: A fine strike. Dealing two points of damage, and give me a—
Skalturin: 18.

A long silence.

DM: Yes.
Skalturin: It’s a Fortitude save, what the fuck else would it be?!
DM: You could let me say it. Just let me get the words out.
Skalturin: Why? It’s less efficient.
DM: You know what? It’s a Reflex save now, as a fireball shoots out of its teeth at the same moment.
Skalturin: I still save…

Gorbul blasts fire at the spiders… rolling snake eyes on his damage dice. Dirzeari shoots one, followed by Mikas, and then Skalturin finishes it. The second spider…

DM: (rolling, then sighing)
Mikas and Gorbul: Poisons itself.

Gorbul rolls a much better breath and drops the spider. They find a third journal, which the DM cheerfully shrugs about the contents thereof and promises to tell them next time. The far door has a lot of skittering in it, which no one particularly likes, especially as they see it’s filled with webbing. Luckily, one good blast from Gorbul annihilates the room. They cheerfully search the room. The first floor is clear!

Mikas: Now, who the fuck are you all, and why are you in prison? I’m just sayin’…