(yes, I know I said these would stay on tumblr. Tumblr’s srch is pure shit, so they are also going to be here, along with some other bits. Thank god I linked to them on Facebook. At least Facebook’s search works.)
What happens when Intelligence is a dump stat
So some background. I have a son, yes I know, seems impossible, but true nonetheless, and he is almost 25, an age where his sense of humor is finally catching up to his mouth. We play D&D, and have played a lot of D&D Online. He has a Paladin he plays, a warforged, and I primarily play as a monk. This is the outgrowth of a long-running series of comedy bits we do when we play. It may get updated as I feel like it.
As I ponder it, this may also what happens when you read too much Robert Asprin. There’s a certain amount of “Myth Inc.” at play here.
Villager: “Save us, oh save us from the evil giant!”
<Monk and Paladin walk up and see what is happening.>
Paladin: “YAY! TIME TO PLAY KLONG!!!!”
Villager: (to Monk): “What’s ‘Klong’?”
Monk: “It’s his favorite game. He runs up to the giant and the giant smashes his fist into him”
Villager: (aghast): “But that will kill him, surely!”
Monk: “Now why would it be his favorite game if it killed him?”
Off in the distance, Paladin finally finishes running up to the giant. It took a while. Paladin runs faster than an Otyugh. Barely. The giant notices Paladin “jumping” (he jumps higher than an Otyugh can. Barely) to get the giant’s attention. “GRAAAAAGH” says the giant, hauls back his fist and takes a mighty swing at Paladin.
“KLONNNNNNG” goes Paladin
“CRACKPOPSNAP” goes the Giant’s fist
“AAAAAAGH” goes the Giant.
The giant walks off, holding his severely broken hand very gingerly, crying a bit.
Villager: “He…defeated the Giant by breaking its hand on his face?”
Villager: “Doesn’t that hurt?”
Monk: “It might if he thought about it more. He’s not a thinker.”
Villager: “How can we ever thank you!”
Monk: “Platinum, usually.”
Villager: “Um…we’re not a rich village”
Monk: “Have you seen his other favorite game, ‘Smashhouse’?”
Villager: “…I thought you lot had to be good”
Monk: “Technically, I just have to be lawful. Good and Evil are really minor considerations for my lot. And I am. Lawful that is. I have a specific procedure I follow for everything. This is the “We just saved you from being pasted by a giant and now you want to be cheap about it” procedure. See? Totally not chaotic!”
Villager: “How is this good?”
Monk: “Are you getting wiped off the bottom of a giant’s boot? Paladin may have even gotten a scratch from a callous on the Giant’s fist. He risked a fresh polish for your village! I’ll have to fix that if he did. You ever polish a ticklish Warforged? No? Well, it’s not easy.
Also, you’re not all dead. I may have mentioned that already, but it’s worth repeating.”
Villager: “…I see your point. How much platinum will you need?”
Monk: <hands him a decently-sized sack> “This much”
Villager: “That’s…right, not giant’s toe jam…quite reasonable.”
Monk: “I knew you’d agree!”