More unreasonable D&D magic items: an enchanted ring that appears to grant the wearer occasional strokes of plausibly deniable good luck. What it actually does is confer upon the wearer the near-religious loyalty of a mob of small, extremely stealthy goblin-like creatures who believe that it’s their sacred duty to help the ring’s bearer without allowing their involvement to become known. This works well enough in wilderness or dungeon; problems start to arise when the wearer gets back to town for some downtime, as the ring’s minions have never been outside the dungeon and have no idea how civilisation works, but still feel obliged to help.
i love these goblins and will defend them with my life.
You sit patiently, expecting a private message at any moment. There’s a knock at your door. It’s me, dressed in a surprisingly well made wizard robe, arms full of books and dice.
for context, we’re a crew of pirates who got a barrel of moonshine from another crew. we keep it in our kitchen but our fighter is a tad bit of an alcoholic.
Ri (fighter) ooc: i stick my face in the barrel of moonshine and my eyes are open
DM: you are blinded. you stuck your open eyes into a barrel of straight alcohol. You Are Blinded.
Ri ooc: WAIT WAIT CAN I GO BACK
DM: sure.
Ri ooc: i stick my face back in the barrel but with my eyes closed this time!
DM: make a constitution save
Ri rolls a 5
DM: yep you’re blinded
after a bit of conversation of how Ri is a Bethesda glitch in real life
Ri ooc: can i reload a save state and go back and undo this
DM: you know what. yes. roll to see if you can invoke save states
Ri rolls a 16, success
DM: you call upon a save state and you find yourself standing in the kitchen once more, with a memory of what had just happened. the god that is in your head tells you “Ri, third time’s not the charm, do not do this again. i swear to me.” and Sheena (artificer) slaps you.
“One of our party has severe arachnophobia, and this happened:: Dm: “There are some giant spiders in this forest so you-”
Half-Elf Rogue: “Can they be something else? Not spiders?”
Dm: “wh- No they’re spiders”
Half-Orc Cleric: “what about eight legged sheep? They’re basically the same.”
Dm: “….. ok fine.” Two minutes later: Dm: “The sheep turns around and shoots wool out its ass right onto your face. You can see eyes all over their udders that blink at you”
Rogue: “This is so much worse.””
Don't give up. Unless you have to for a little while. Then don't panic. CONTAINS: Star Trek, Dungeons and Dragons, Critical Role, History, Current Affairs, Space, Cats, and Etc. Adult.
