The Post You Will Never Read

So, I think it is pretty safe to say that no one really reads the first blog of a webpage. Okay, to be perfectly honest, for those of who you managed to drunkenly find the ass-end of a Google search and make your way to this deep dark section of the web, you really are a traveller, a hero of epic proportion charting the very reaches of society…or you are just lost.

Well, no one said life in fantasy land would be all candied unicorn turds and scantily clad gnomes. It takes hard work I tells ya! Hard work! And you of all people should know that to seduce a hag, always make sure you gift her with a new set of dentures – metaphorically speaking.

Confused? Me too.

So what have I been up to since last you saw me, you ask. Well, that’s a bit of a creepy question, champ, considering that you don’t even know me, but bugger it, this dwarfish grog is going down a treat, so I am happy to indulge.

First, I finally had a captive audience to learn and play Dungeons and Dragons with. No, I didn’t take the usual route of forcing my wife to pop out sufficient progeny and then painstakingly program them to love geeky shizzle (yep, the first izzle reference. *self five*) before they can finally be useful enough to play – or daddy is gonna get very cranky.

Much too sloppy, far too slow and way too prone to error and possible accidental deaths.

Instead, my wife hefted my pack (there is a funny reference about a wheelbarrow there, but I haven’t told you the story yet so you’re not getting it) and I grab the hand luggage and we make our way to one of the deepest darkest places on earth where other like minded misfits abandon social conformity and live communally while attempting to teach English.

This band of brave weirdos guided me through my first Dungeons and Dragons 5e Campaign as Narg the sexually efficient and intellectually deficient Half-Orc who blundered through dungeons cleaving the head and hands of any zombie who so much as looked at him funny.

Next was the first of the Sagans. The prim and proper Human Cleric of the War Domain was, to be honest, a bore to play. Fortunately, or unfortunately I missed a day in this one-shot adventure when the gnomes in the party started to massacre a village and get themselves imprisoned or killed in the process. They were really a hearts and minds pair that one. At the end of this one-shot we finally convinced the local druid to stop being a dick and triumphantly broke up the band.

So two games in and an appalling dearth of DnDizzle later, I decide I have the expertise necessary to crack on with my own campaign. No need to worry that I have never played either of my two previous characters past level 4. I’ll wing it! And it seems to be working so far. I call it Slaves of Troustar, but the player’s don’t know the title yet, so don’t bloody well tell em! To give myself a bit of a primer, I put my heroes on a ship as slaves and make them escape and take the crew. It’s a bit of a George R. R. Martin affair so I am hoping someone buys the rights off me, plays it and tells me what happens next. Nevertheless, I’ve managed several chapters so far and you can have a squiz at the campaign here.

So, then there is this gap called Summer Vacation, you see, and me and the missus must cast plane shift back to our country of origin, for far too long. Just as we find a forked, metal rod for our ritual or because we are leaving, the old crew get a campaign going without me. In a fit of rage, I herd up two young lads back in my homelands and force them to play a one-shot. This has long term repercussions resulting in the lads social free-fall into their schools D&D club. Now these two scalawags, under the tutelage of a DM whose dogmatic views and blind adoration to 3e has led to their full conversion. I do what I can, but needless to say, they are dead to me now.

Back to the confines of my community tucked away in some long forgotten sandpit, I rejoin my companions and are invited to join in on their campaign that they started over the summer break in my absence.

Figurine of a half-elf warlock
Nope, Sagan definitely didn’t look like this half-elf warlock. Sagan isn’t that cool.

I take the name Sagan Bra’el a half-elf who once worked as a manservant for a great wizard. However, like Mickey Mouse in Fantasia, the taste of power got the better of Sagan and he attempts to play with powers far beyond his ability. Unlike, Mickey Mouse, Sagan is a horny little teenage devo who wants nothing more than to have his own private succubus at his beck and call. Fumbling through the summoning one handed, Sagan misses a few important steps which leads to the summoning of and incredibly powerful succubus, by the name of Silussa. Luckily, Silussa has a bit of a sense of humour and instead of sexually devouring him, she gives him the powers of a Warlock under the guardianship of a Fiend. This is of course in exchange for Sagan’s assistance in convincing the occasional young man to donate his seed and life to Silussa. Of course life is not all charm spells and awkward moments for Sagan. Silussa constantly finds new ways to embarrass Sagan by making him call out ridiculous innuendo rich catchphrases in order for him to cast spells. Oh and just in case he forgets a spell, she provided him with a cute little Book of Shadows in the form of a teenage girls pink fluffy diary.

This campaign is not enough for my new friends however and I am pestered relentlessly (read – once or twice) to start up my old campaign. I do so and add three more companions to the campaign and a whole lot more complexity.

Now, here I sit feeling like I have just sent an unwelcome photo to a random person on social medial. I hope you are satisfied.




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