Friday, August 14, 2009

Roleplaying Time

I should like to try an experiment in role-playing.

Using any character of your own imagination, please write 50-100 words for each of the following situations given below. These should be the words which your character would say. The background is yours to invent. Please be sincere, serious and original:

1) Your character has entered a tavern. Instead of asking for information, tell the bartender your tale of woe, as though your character had something to get off his or her chest.

2) You are about to lead a group of NPC’s to attack a fortified tower. Inspire them.

3) Rancid the Thief, a member of your party, has just died. He has always been an enormous pain in the rear. Give his eulogy. (remember, be serious – imagine that NPC’s are listening).

Add your answers to the comments page. No answer will be critiqued. We may take a vote and figure out some kind of prize later. No idea what, but I'm open to suggestions.

UPDATE: There appears a strong urge to wax poetic, and while I understand that motivation (writing long posts myself), brevity my dear lads, brevity.


Ryan said...

1.)A drink, good man, and your counsel! Know you the tower of Razst the Inscrutable? Aye, of course you do. I suppose you receive no end of strange drifters asking about it. No, I have no intention of asking, for I have been to the place upon which the tower is said to stand. Three years I spent consulting obscure librams and casting for auguries, and at last I had discerned the location of the tower. I tell you this, sir: there is no tower. The spot where it is supposed to be stands bare and empty, with nothing but ash-smote wasteland sprawling in all directions!

2.)Hear me, lads! This tower is well guarded by orcish mercenaries in the employ of Baron Ghaines. Do not mistake them for ordinary beasts; they are of one of the northern clans. Their blades are sharp and they are proficient in their use. They are likely the equal, or the better, of any human warrior you have faced, but fear not! I know you to be skilled and courageous lot, and I shall extend my sorceries to confound our enemies and cloak our presence. Today is the day you shall have your revenge against the man who defiled your temple and burned your crops!

3.)Before you lays the man we knew as Rancid. I know not his given name, for he was no friend of mine, as I’m sure you all knew. I will say this for him: in the end, he possessed courage, and he did not fear death, and this is no small thing. Rancid was not an arrogant man, and I have no doubt that he knew he faced certain death when he attacked the dread Gelugon. I cannot say I would have faced the beast alone. Make no mistake: we live because this man died. Whatever grudge you may have had with him, let it now be forgotten. Let us consign our companion’s remains to the fire, and let us pray to Aldurn to speed his soul onward to the great halls in the Hereafter.

Adam Thornton said...


Goddamn, man. Rats. Fuckin' rats. I hate those dirty fucks. And these rats? I swear, they were the size of fuckin' Shetland ponies, fangs to match. One of 'em got Rancid. I mean, I never liked the guy a whole lot, but, shit, he deserved better than bleeding out in a goddamn sewer because some giant rat's fuckin' incisor nicked his carotid. Fuck. Fuck, man. And that wasn't even it. First thing through the manhole? Goddamn fireball. Pete never had a chance. Rest of us just ran back through the sewers. Lotta screaming. Lotta fuckin' giant rats. Dunno if anyone else made it back. Gimme a fuckin' beer.


All right, you bastards. This manhole ought to lead up into the basement of the tower. This one's for Rancid, may he rest in peace. Rats don't get that big on their own. Some magical fucker made them that way, and my guess is that he's in that tower there. Sure, some of us probably gonna die. Maybe all of us. But, seriously, evil wizards with giant rats? Fuck that shit. Let's go fuck him up and take his shit. When we get back, first round's on me. Pete, you're on point. I'll take the rear guard. Rest of you fuckers figure it out in the middle.


Rancid deserved better than this. You know I never liked the guy. But no one deserves to bleed out in a shit-filled sewer because a fuckin' giant rat bit through his neck. Hey, I'm wrong about the no one. That wizard bastard who made those rats this big, he deserves to die horribly. Let's go kill him. Kill him by inches. Rancid woulda wanted it that way.

JB said...

O boy! Friday night fun!

1. “Give me two bottles of the cheapest think you have to drink. Goddamn it, I said “to drink” not to wash in! That’s better; this rotgut will burn a hole in your belly but I’m drinking for four now…you heard me.

“Yeah, it was supposed to be an easy gig…waltz in, off some hobgobs, nick the princess back and maybe make off with a ruby or two in the meantime (those hobbies are up to their eyeteeth in rubies…that cavern used to belong to a dwarf mining colony and there’s good reason why every critter and his neighbor have been fighting over it)…anyway, even if we didn’t fill our pouches there was good gold waiting when we got back.

“But no one told use the goddamn hobs had a living god looking to fill its belly with our backsides. Turns out they worship 'O Martreuse, the Tremendous' or some such…a thrice-cursed purple worm, big enough to wrap itself around this tavern three times, and still pick it’s teeth with that damn tail spike.

“We knew we were in for it when Togo got swallowed first. Down the hatch went the cleric and wouldn’t you know he was the one with the lantern oil, too. Then Biff the thief tried to get the drop on it with his patented “double dragon dagger” two-fisted hoo-haw maneuver…skrunk! right on the blasted spike. Serves him right, though…dying by poison after so many he’d done for the same.

“Well, it was just me and Shmee after that, and we both knew discretion was the better part of valor. But we also knew there was no way a Halfling in chain mail was going to keep up with me when I was unarmored. Being all but out of spells, I did the best thing I could think of…kicked Shmee behind me and ran for the exit. I figured if anyone would have the room to maneuver in its belly and do the damn beast some harm, it would be him, right?

“Anyway, I can’t say I’m proud of what I’ve done, but at least I’ll live to see another day. Unfortunately, Shmee’s pack was the one we’d put the rubies in, which is why you see I’m asking for the cheap stuff. Now…you got anything edible that’s cheaper than 5 silver?”

2. “Men, I know the siege has been vicious. I know the going’s been rough. I know you were promised dancing girls, free flowing liquor, casks of gold. I know we’ve failed to deliver…until now.

“Now, all that’s behind us. You remaining four score and fifteen are all that remains of the legion that began this siege six weeks ago. The castle has been laid to waste. Our enemies have been smote with ruin. And, yes, too many of our comrades have fallen.

“But now the prize is within sight! Yon tower represents the last bastion of the corrupt and despicable wizard Vargar the Heathen! He has holed himself there like a rat in the wall, and we WILL dig him out!

“Our sword arms are mighty! Our shields are strong! Our companions stand with us! Before this day is through, you WILL see those dancing girls, taste that liquor, and feel Vargar’s gold run through your fingers like the blood from his gibbeted corpse!

“Draw arms, men! We attack…NOW!”

3. “It is my turn to speak of Rancid the Footpad, and I will not speak ill of the dead. And since I will not speak ill of the dead, I will as I was raised and say nothing at all. Rancid, you are dead and dust you shall become. May your bones rot swiftly that you may find the peace of dissolution in the material world you loved so well. We shall continue on without you, but you may rest knowing that we will honor the agreement regarding your apportioned share and the inheritance owed your niece.”

kaeosdad... said...

Cool idea! My wife suggested that this role playing scenario idea could be used along with some bonus xp as an incentive to encourage players to flesh out their characters background in between games.

1. "What do you mean I'm good? This coins real ain't it? Hrn.. Here, how's this then. Go ahead, take it. Just make sure I never see the bottom of this mug. Right. There's more you know... a lot more. As much as you can carry, and I can carry plenty. So long as you got the stomach for it. Where? Hell, take this, it'll show you where to go. You'll need a good reliable crew to back you up though... I'd say hire a crew, and leave the loved ones at home. But what do I know eh? .... funny thing, I've never had more than a few copper in my pockets before this... this right here? Feels like nothing when you have no one left to spend it."

Anonymous said...

1) An ale… no draw me two, friend and by the grace of the gods do so quickly for I am a thirsty man. You stare at me… or should I say my chest, yes? Fear not, I will not strike you down. Yes, they are real and they are spectacular. If I could be rid of them I would. Yes, thank you… ahhhh. Refreshing. My road has been long and tiring. You have perhaps heard tales of the Wish-Stone of Medras? And the high priestess of the Fane that guards said stone? Yes, it is real and the tales of her voluptuous beauty do her disservice, for she is desirable beyond any words. Many score of men I slew to stand before her and the Wish-Stone. As I said it was a long road… a lonely road. I am a man of impulsive desire. How was I to know that the Wish Stone did not require me to speak aloud what I would most want have granted to me? Perhaps if I had considered the whole of the high priestess and not just her most remarkable attributes, I would be standing before you differently…

2) Today many will die but we all become immortal. We WILL prevail! The names of those that stood true this day will be carried upon the lips of all Ardovians for as long as the glorious kingdom stands and our sons and daughters draw breath to speak them. For he that turns his back now at this direst need of his nation… there will be nothing but the coward’s reward of a low and meaningless life. No brotherhood. No comfort. No glory. Only shame and an empty death someday farther along. For we all will die... but who is so lucky as to chose the time and the manner of their dying? The bards will sing of this day FOREVER! Many paths have brought us all here together. Until now we have acted each in our own measure for our own gain. Not today. Today we are not mercenaries. We are not adventurers. Today we are IMMORTAL HEROES! Rise up! To me! Rush forward Sons of Ardovia, and let our enemy taste of death. Today we become GODS! ONWARD!

3) One could say our dear and departed Rancid was among those poor souls whom the Fates have chosen for torment. After all, his parents had named him William but his own comrades likened him more to spoiled meat. I do not jest, friends. I lament the loss of a brave if somewhat foolhardy adventurer who’s only true but fatal sin was his over-enthusiasm... and perhaps greed, but in our line of work that’s not entirely sinful. Typically it is I, Tharos the Unsavory, who steps into the unknown first. For I am strong and hardy where a little fellow like Rancid is not. I saw the glint of treasure ahead, but natural caution and an old campaigner’s sixth sense stayed my hand. Rancid, though, slipped past us all. Setting off any one of the traps in the Chamber of Twenty Deaths would have been sufficient. Having set off all twenty, Rancid discovered a pain and torture in death that I would not wish upon my vilest and most hated enemies. To Rancid! May the Fates be kinder to him in the next life than was his fortune in this one.

AWizardInDallas said...

1) How long have you lived here, innkeeper? Is that right? Good for you, man. It's a good town... reminds me of my own home, from so long ago, before I started my wandering, before Joules was killed. I'm sorry... three mugs of your good ale and I'm babbling like a moonpup. Joules was my son... killed by thieves too. I don't even live here and it angers me no end about that boy in town square. Just like my poor son... just for pinching fruit. I'd bleed those bastards if I knew where the were, but no one in here seems to care, except maybe...?

2) Now has come the time to make an end of it, my friends. We've trod long and hard to reach Onkoril and now we're at the end of our journey. Shillin will have the door opened in a moment and in we'll go. We've fought through bad weather and beasts and we'll weather this too. I've not lied to you yet and I'm not about to start. You know as well as I do that Onkoril is heavily fortified. You also know there's a wizard we'll have to deal with too. Now, he pays the price for the blood he's used in the next few hours. So stay icy, be sharp, walk light... remember what he's done to our people. Make no mistake, you're meting out justice this time, not just collecting gold.

3) Lads, gather round for a moment. Rancid has succumbed to his wounds and is dead. Pelarch did everything he could, but the poison was too much. Now, it's no secret that he was ofttimes a pain in the arse, even a burden at times, and least of all no one will miss the smell for which he was named, but I say no man deserves the end he met while helping friends. Rancid was raised on the street; he didn't know any other way to be. There's just no questioning his skill or loyalty though. So, when we get back to town I hope you'll join me in raising a mug, remember him in your own way and hope he's gone to a better world. Men are often too complex to see in black and white and Rancid was such a man.