"Would it be ok to fuck a beaver if it was smart enough to consent?" The Arch-Arch-Arch-Sage enlightened thus its most devoted students.
QM Notes:-I'm doing this one on a whim. Zero prep except for basic worldbuilding. Won't drop it for a while if there's interest, though.-If you say something bad about floral soap I will find you.-There will be rolling, too much of it. When requested, I will only take the first ones that were made by each anon.And now some (very!) basic chargen to make our MC:-Name: _________-Class: _________-Race: _________-Details: _________Stats and such (dnd stuff) will be completely random and rolled for after we settle for our MC. Yes, we can end up with a totally incoherent character. No, there won't be rerolling. Yes, fuck captcha.
>>6416736-Name: Bob-Class: Cleric-Race: Variant Human-Details: Tragic backstory where his whole family is presumed dead
>>6416743-Name: Elana-Class: some sort of wizard -Race: Human -Details: A nudist magical savage from distant lands but she doesn't want to be seen naked by men. She's asexual.Blonde girl with fair skin and long hair, blue eyes. Physically weak and slim but not a skelly, she's a young wizard.
>>6416751+1 critical support for Bobby after the [Insert Fantasy Religous Organizaton Here] orphanage he lived in burned down while he was out.
>>6416751>>6416754I like how different these are, makes me wanna wait a bit more.QM monitorin!
>>6416751+1 to Bobby boy
Aight, guess we starting with Bob tomorrow if nothing else comes up. The nudist wizard seems kinda coomerbait but the fact that she's asexual is interesting, so forgive me for giving chargen a bit more room cause its fun. But when I wake up tomorrow its go one way or the other
You know what, fuck it. Bob the Cleric it isand now it's time to roll the Wheel of Fuck You!1: Blind.2: Mute.3: Deaf.4: One arm less.5: One leg less.6: Wheelchair.7: Unpredictable psychotic breaks.8: Down Syndrome.9: Heavily traumatized.10: Cancer.11: Two arms less.Whoever wants, roll that 1d10. I will take only the first roll right after this post. Right after that, we are set to go.
>>6416895fuck, i meant 1d11 and now i have to do this shitty captcha agaaaaaaaaaain
Rolled 9 (1d11)>>6416895Downie
>>6416917How appropriate given his backstory
>>6416956Kinda relatable indeed
STAT ROLL, let's see what's what! Roll me six 1d20 and two 1d18 while I write the first post. The score each stat gets will be in the following order:StrengthDexterityIntelligenceWisdomCharismaConstitutionThe last two 1d18 will determine Bob's specialized skills while the rest will be averaged. Duly noted that, unlike in D&D, stats will NOT affect them. I know that there is clearly logical correlation between having high strength and therefore having high Athletics: I'm just a bit tired of logic. This is the order:Athletics, Acrobatics, Sleight of Hand, Stealth, Arcana, History, Investigation, Nature, Religion, Animal Handling, Insight, Medicine, Perception, Survival, Deception, Intimidation, Performance, PersuasionMORE DICEMORE FUCKING DICE MAN
Rolled 11, 2, 16, 1, 13, 15 = 58 (6d20)>>6417091
>>6417092Uh-oh we dumb as shit ima let someone else roll the other stuff shiiiit
Rolled 13, 8 = 21 (2d18)>>6417091Bob the Cleric being high int low Wis is funny af
Lemme see if I got this rightStr 11Dex 2 Int 16Wis 1Cha 13Con 15Specialized in the Nature and Perception skillsSpent a lot of time in nature learning about plants and their uses, survival arts. Honest to a fault, or just guileless. Overanalyzing, Indecision or trauma slowing him down. Or maybe hes just really clumsy.Some kind of monk or acolyte to a Forest God? Sea Spirit? Or some kind of intense natural biome he was pretty much devoted to.
------------Extreme Critical Quest-----------by Mark Twain, Dante, Charles Bukowski, Jorge Luis Borges, and your mom who is very fat and a whore.Fingers tangled under your chin, hands held tight against life with your nails buried on their back. Eyes closed, mind shut to earthly worries, you are praying. Not for a better world, because it is just too big. Not for love, since to be kind is to be loved. Not for health or safety, since your old warhammer is dripping sacred oil. And not for money, not at all, even though your nails have already left a hole in the depths of your left pocket.No. You pray for the Goddess to grant these people, the farmers who allowed you shelter from this night and rain, who blessed you with this barn that’s stacking towers of manure, good harvest. Not a great harvest, not a ludicrous harvest, not a sudden windfall of riches that may twist their nature- just a good enough harvest so that they can continue to toil for their brethren and prove the goodwill of Humanity.Not because you understand that rebuilding the trust between brothers is the path to utopia, not because you crave for swords to turn into plowshares, not because it makes you happy, because it doesn’t, but because the Wet Book says soand only because of that.…Eyes open and hard, you realize your mistake immediately. The woman floating next to you, the Goddess, sighs, mumbles, and floats towards the nearest rusty rake as sharp golden swirls like strokes of poetry wreathe her. She then slams it against the mud, upside-down as the row of teeth stare at heaven, and proceeds to gather dirt in one place as if trees were made by sculpting them out of mud. You just let her. A miracle is afoot, along with an excuse, once she realizes that whatever she’s doing has nothing to do with agriculture at all. It’s taking a while, though, but it’s oddly relaxing to watch.So at least for a whileyou just let her.
It’s morning, your back hurts, the pile of dirt is still getting bigger, and you are still Bob, devoted cleric to the Goddess of Innocence. The first you see is the old farmer grabbing his head in dismay as her divinest majesty the Goddess herself wrecks the fields with the back of the rake, widening the crater by dragging crop and what may towards the unholy, or actually holy, ball of dirt at the center. Half a stuck rabbit is desperately wriggling to get out of it; next to it, a wolf is howling for very similar reasons. Poking from the top, the farmer’s baby, eyes wide, is studying the happenings with refreshing curiosity. As it laughs and the funny shapes and colors, the sacred toiling continues relentlessly.Farmer: ……….. WHAT?The eerie Goddess, slightly transparent, doesn’t sweat as she takes rake to shoulder and turns. Blue eyes, long, blonde hair, wearing a white tunic, she’s how anyone would expect a Goddess to look like.Goddess: Oh- hello! I’m toiling the fields.Wordlessly is how you stand from the pile of hay, wiping it off as you leave the roof behind, enjoying the musky smell of wet mud and grass despite the harsh breeze. Your religion, you recognize shamelessly, is quite like any other with but one exception- that the object of your worship blesses you with its presence.Constantly.Farmer: ……….. WHY?Goddess: To have a good harvest! It’s good, isn’t it? It’s great, isn’t it?The farmer gazes upon the huge pile of somethings as the Goddess flings a stray cat at it, which spins clear in the air like a ninja star before getting buried. Its holy purpose escapes his simple mind, the fathomless meaning behind it is lost to him.>Ask the Goddess what she’s doing. Have her explain it to the farmer.>Convince the farmer that whatever the Goddess is doing will bring him and his lineage fortune (it won’t).>Ask the Goddess for a miracle so that she can somehow justify whatever this is.>Scold the Goddess of Innocence. Teach her how to work properly.>Kindly justify the Goddess, then do the work yourself.>Just let things happen.>Write In.
>>6417132>Kindly justify the Goddess, then do the work yourself.Well shit... two dumbasses in a journey
>>6417132>Kindly justify the Goddess, then do the work yourself.
>>6417132>Kindly justify the Goddess, then do the work yourself.What a familiar writing style
ALRIGHT SO>1 INT roll to see if Bob knows shit, both to explain and do it. Sucess: 10>1 DEX roll to actally do it. Success: 8>1 CHAR roll to see how he looks to the farmer. Success: This one variesThink I'm missing something? Just tell me. Bob has a +3 modifier to int, a -4 to dex, and a +1 to char. Taking first three rolls. Leave some for the rest.
Rolled 2 (1d20)>>6417197d20, or?
Rolled 7 (1d20)>>6417197d20 right?
>>6417202>>6417198Yup, 1d20's. Also lmfao
welp we're doomed
Rolled 4 (1d20)>>6417197
>>6417198>>6417202>>6417206Broh look at my cleric and his Goddess, the whole Village is doomed
>>6417197Would working the farm count as Nature, and either way what would a specialized skill do? Would it be another +1 or advantage with an extra roll? Just for later
>>6417237>Would working the farm count as NatureYeup, totally. Also I take back what I said before, skills still depend on stats cause I ain't gonna reinvent the wheel for nothing. So basically this would be +2 proficiency +3 cause 16 int if im not wrong for a total +5. Still less than 10.WIRINT
But not to you. To you, Bob, devoted pilgrim of the Church of the Goddess of Innocence, that huge, pointless pile of crap does mean something, very concrete, and very specific: that your revered Goddess is quite fucking stupid, blessed be the floor she walks on.>Kindly justify the Goddess, then do the work yourself.Bob the Cleric: She doesn’t know how to do things. Practical, useful things. What she knows is how to bless us with her smile.The farmer stares straight at you, confused in the most normal way as your smiling Goddess descends like a hawk upon the runaway, terrified wolf to put it back in the shapeless ball of dirt. Thick orange hair bulwarks the cleric’s wrinkled, hard face, the thick, orange mustache stiff, the thick, orange beard trimmed to obsession- but the blue eyes, sheltered under the thick, orange eyebrows, betray the pattern. Bob the Cleric: And that’s good. Yes. I think that’s good enough. What we need.You know that some of the tempered steel of your armor is peeking from under the drab, tattered cloth cloak, that even the cowl under your hood has already earned gaps through your efforts; the sunrise shines on it. Yet the farmer chuckles crudely.Farmer: YOU LOOK LIKE A FAGGOT BOY THAT TAKES IT UP THE ARSE!!!!!>CHAR ROLL (Success: ?) : 5 (+1) = The farmer thinks Bob looks like a faggot. (What does the farmer think of Bob?)
You scoff lightly as you nod. Nothing wrong with being a faggot: that’s what the wisdom that the Wet Book imparted upon you. You take the rake from your revered Goddess without even turning, then, as the farmer grimaces, smash it over and over against the same spot until the hole is big enough to fit your head. You make sure. Then, once it’s filled to the brim with every seed you could find, you cover it in manure, then in dirt, then pray for it if only for good measure. Yes. This is going to be one TRULY FAITHFUL TREE. Years down the road, you’ll come back to dress it in the HOLY SCRIPTURES as it’s meant to be.>INT ROLL (Success: 10) : 2 (+3) (+2) = FAILRE (Does Bob know crap about crops?)The old farmer falls to his knees.Farmer: ……….WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!You nod in understanding: his faith is being tested. Yes. This is a moment of growth. You trust him to find the Truth for himself. But then he stands, already strong in his Belief, taking the rake from you rather rudely.Farmer: Just… do it like this. Scratch the floor, son. Scratch the floor! Or better yet, do not! Just leave already! Go away!You take the rake anyway to pursue the Holy Path, as is your solemn duty. But then you drop it, and, taking the step to pick it up, you step on its dented teeth, and so its hard stick stands at once and buries itself in your face. Defeated, you bellow, falling to your knees as you clutch your head. The farmer trembles, perhaps in fear, perhaps in rage, perhaps in admiration. The last you see is your Goddess flying around with the baby, who will grow with strong, fond memories of your misery.>DEX ROLL (Success: 8) : 7 (-4) = FAILRE (Can we do it? No it’s fucked.)(cont in a bit!)
Slow start, I know, but it's better to do the hard thinking at the start. Gonna try to push the rest of the update before calling it for today.
The Church of the Goddess of Innocence has a rich story spanning two and a half weeks. Some scammer down Wetville was testing out religions to see what stuck, trying to strike sacred fear and guilt into the traders and sheep-fuckers. You wouldn’t have it. Over and over, you’d meddle and point out what this religion stole from others, how its moral messages contradicted each other, that the Wet Book was constantly being rewritten and how and where and for what reason since copies were sold cheap. You’d get into shouting matches with the scammer, you’d stay all day at the door of the windmill it called a ‘church’ with only your protest sign to shield you from the endless drizzle, you’d talk to the mayor about it only for him to convince you that something would be done in the near future and pat you on the back on the way out. It could have gotten worse. /You/ would have made it worse. But something -someone- happened.You glance at the Goddess sitting by the end of the carriage, fixated on how the sunset paints the trees; you can’t see much more than her ethereal golden hair. She is bored. Then, you study the man who is pulling the carriage all by himself, at the bursting veins on his blushing, sweating bald head, who breathes hard and groans and pants and wheezes, who loathes horses. If he is stubborn enough, you should reach the rock tavern by tomorrow morning.Your efforts to sink the (then) Church of Gr’Anesch the Eye-Eating Centipede were paying off. They dared to step on the bugs again, but went as far as to turn the act into a rite of passage, causing the poor, innocent critters to be hunted down for sport. For shame. So; you weren’t exactly expecting a comeback.…One day, an orphan wandered into the windmill-church to sell crude drawings of happy sheep. When the little girl asked about the pictures on the wall, your scammer nemesis bullshited her full throttle, likely to see how much she could make her believe before the girl realized. Now you know- that the innocence of the girl touched its coin-shaped heart. For her, she made up on the spot a kind, playful Goddess, who watched over little girls and boys and little animals too, too good to be real. Every day forth, as the scammer packed to leave, the orphan would show up with new drawings of the Goddess and offerings of little threats of sugar that she’d pay herself, to thank the Goddess for protecting her little brothers and sisters from the dark alleys.As the moans and curses of the horse hater dress the air, you study her divine frame: the Goddess of Innocence doesn’t have a name yet. She yawns loudly. You yawn silently.Goddess: Bob, why is everyone asking if it’s ok to fuck a beaver?God. Damn. You frown. You knew this was coming, and yet it caught you off-guard. That golden waterfall of hair barely twists as your Goddess turns to look you in the eye.Goddess: What does all that even mean?It’s the Goddess of Innocence.>Fuck you, write in.
Aight boys and girls, lore is done. We mooovin!
>>6417623>Bee Vers are some type of five headed people that walks on six feet and build towers. You've never seen one, only heard stories. You would like to see one.
>>6417623>>6417625Support>Fuck you, write in.They might refer to making love, a lady's womanhood sometimes called a beaver.
It’s just too tempting, and nowhere in the Wet Book it is classified as a sin: to bullshit a little, just a little bit, for the good of the heart.Bob the Cleric: They are talking about the Bee Vers. Five headed folks, they walk on six feet and build towers. I’ve only heard the stories.Goddess: Five headed? You mean- they have five heads? What?!Nowhere else would you hear bafflement this sincere.Goddess: You are such a huge liar! Just look at your face.Bob the Cleric: How?The Goddess opens her mouth, but then it seems that she actually had to think about it.Goddess: What happens if one of the heads gets angry with another?Bob the Cleric: They talk it out.Goddess: But what if one of them is too angry and wants to leave?Bob the Cleric: Well, it can’t.Goddess: Bubut then what if all the other four heads gang up on the fifth and keep being mean to it all the time? What if the fifth head is just… sensitive?!Bob the Cleric: Then I guess it will have to scream loudly for a while until the others learn to shut up.The Goddess ponders. Then, she nods. To defend oneself is also a part of kindness in the name of the Goddess.Goddess: What is ‘fuck’, Bob?You know… better now than later. Better if it’s you.
Bob the Cleric: ……..They are talking about making, eh, love, Holy Spirit. ’Beaver’ is also how the commonfolk call a lady’s womanhood. A beaver is also a small, furry animal that enjoys clogging rivers. I know you have far too many questions. Hear me out for now.The Goddess closes her holy mouth. You gesture, not entirely sure what, yet it’s your own jaw that lingers still. And, just like that, you find yourself stuck, because though you know /what/ to say, you don’t know /how/ to say it. Which seems, for some alien reason, of quite the importance. Your silence, duly noted, is already being scrutinized by blue eyes, only saved by the unseeming death throes of your horse hating driver and its long, painful footsteps.Bob the Cleric: This is hard. It’s still hard.You nod sagely at your own wisdom. You are the only one, though, but you don’t care. You learned the game that time you told her that a ‘cock’ is a bird.Goddess: Womanhood is my hair, then, right?She flicks it with the back of her hand, giggling silently as the golden threads wave down, defying gravity. You offer no word. No clarification. When she glances at you, you look away. Lightly is how the Goddess scoffs aside. Goddess: I know how to make love, at least.You marvel at how right and wrong your Goddess is. You don’t remember ever having worried about being straight-forward before. Not when you found out about her for the first time, and convinced everyone that she was just a witch playing petty tricks. To stumble upon a deity felt like such a laughable thing that it was easy for the rabble to share your sentiment, her humble miracles weren’t enough to make a case, not when you paid that sorceress to show off a few party tricks in her presence. You look at what little is left of the sun and it reminds you of what little of her was left when you realizedthat what mattered most wasn’t what she was, but that she was good....
Your calculations were correct- for the most part. Goddess: Bob! Bob! Wake up! It’s the rock! It’s the tavern!Keenly aware of the weight of your armor (and the numbness of your neck) as you rise, you notice that the sun is barely peeking from the Great Line. The darkness ahead is granted barely enough shape by the orange light to be told apart, so perhaps the world looks different through the eyes of a Goddess.Goddess: The woman who prayed for me is in there! I can feel her! Let’s do our best today! :DThat is what you do. That is your life. You wander the planes to help answer the prayers to the Goddess of Innocence. A fly darts by your ear; you ignore it. For divinity to exist, folks have to believe in it, so you go around spreading the faith of the Church of the Goddess of InnocenceGoddess: Bob, wake up more! Your beard is all wrong! Aaah!! I command you to just look that way and hold still!which is somewhat brutally easy when the actual thing is there with you being so annoying. With your face doomed to be still, you at least peek from the side at your driver, who is still alive, and still full of hate, which may be what keeps him alive. You’d commend his efforts if that tiny golden scissor wasn’t threatening to leave you beardless the moment the carriage hits a bump on the road.Bob the Cleric: …As your beard endures, you see it. That huge rock, shaped like the molar of a dragon, and the tiny windows of burning yellow light that infest it like cavities.
The Goddess kicks the door open to show everyone her radiant smile: the mercenaries, the thieves, the hookers, and the drunkards. It works wonderfully, since now everyone is fixated on her, who is gazing around as if she was in a garden of roses.Goddess: Behold! Your cups are full again!After the shock wears out, they all check their dirty tankards. Although the place is built into a rock, it might as well be inside a tree with how much wood it bares. The seats, the tables, the roof, the furniture, the tableware, it’s all mostly wood except for the floor and the huge chimney- which is filled with wood.Elf Ranger: It is true! It is filled!Goddess: Yes! Worship me more!Even the mug the barman was cleaning with spit wasn’t spared by the miracle. Some smell it, some touch the liquid, others already tentatively sip it. One spits.Dwarf Warrior: It’s water! Clean water!Goddess: Yes, what did you expect? Ale is bad for you.The words were delivered so seriously and in such a deadpan that you get to witness the furnace in the dwarf’s eyes die out like an ember in winter. But to tell a dwarf that ale is bad… you are almost cowering behind the Goddess out of shame as she walks to the bar. It’s in her nature to make a scene, she needs people to believe in her- but by the Blessed Holy Spirit, you do need to steel your stomach.Barman: Hey, don’t bring that sorcery in here. Last warning.The barman is a young, sturdy black man. With a huge afro. The Goddess tilts her head.Goddess: Why? People need to drink.Barman: And I have to sell them the drinks! How do you think I make a living?The Goddess pouts.Goddess: But that was a holy miracle of the Goddess of Innocence. Me.She points at herself over and over.Goddess: Me!The Barman frowns, his eyes lost. You understand him deeply. Telling wizardry apart from divinity is no easy feat. Meanwhile, you feel more than one eye drilling your back… Well, whatever. Again, you are in a tavern, only this time a man of the Faith. The Church you serve is new and in need of renown, coin, and hands. And what better place to find it.Before you knew it, everyone was already back to their own nonsense. Most everyone, at least. Your Goddess has earned you some weird looks.>Ask for a drink, try to join a conversation.>Check the Quest Board. >Ask around for any venture.>Try to recruit someone into the Church.>Gamble.>Write-InRegarding that last miracle…>Do something about it. You can’t afford to pay for all the drinks, but… (Write in)>Play dumb and hope nobody is angry.
>>6417866>Check the Quest Board.>Try to recruit someoneMaybe the Elf Ranger would join a quest.
>>6417866>>6418069+1 this.>Do something about it. You can’t afford to pay for all the drinks, but… (Write in)"A GRAND miracle, Goddess! And just think, everyone: if you really, TRULY believe in her... imagine what she could turn WATER into!"
>>6417866>Check the Quest Board.>Play dumb and hope nobody is angry.
>>6418094>>6418100One for do somethingone for do jack shitI'll give it fifteen and then roll for it. How about it? I want to start updating faster.
Rolled 2538500 (1d5238236)"Regarding that last miracle:">>6418094Prime numbers: >>6418094Numbers divisible by 3: >>6418100
Rolled 3898245 (1d5238236)fuck, again
Rolled 1 (1d2)nvm lol1: >>64180942: >>6418100
>Check the Quest Board.>Do something about it. How abruptly the peace returned doesn’t phase you: to be a man or woman of the dungeon is to see shit. But to the few still staring at the two of you, just in case it’s the ones considering holding a grudge, you turn:Bob the Cleric: A GRAND miracle, Goddess! And just think, everyone: if you really, TRULY believe in her... imagine what she could turn WATER into!You look at each of their eyes, and each time they look away. If they take you for just some stupid lunatic then it’s a good thing. Some ears, however, have perked. Divine or not, you have a gift for telling these details apart.Goddess: What? What could I turn water into?Already forgetting the irritated barman, the Goddess looks excited about her own powers.Bob the Cleric: Eh. Wine, I suppose.Goddess: No.You can’t hold her stern stare.Bob the Cleric: Gold, then, maybe?Goddess: No. People buy slaves with that.They also do plenty of other things with it.Bob the Cleric: …Cats?Her eyes lighten up. That’s right. She’s is, as the Wet Book states, the patron saint of stray cats, dogs, dragons, owls, serpents, squirrels, beavers (even if she doesn’t know it yet) and even well-behaved tarantula familiars.Goddess: …….Yes! Let’s do it!Bob the Cleric: Now, wai-A tiefling druid that had finally decided to be healthy finds herself trying to drink a kitten. You wonder if she’s considering that it may be too late already. You look around in sudden, frantic panic: apparently this was the only case.Goddess: Bob, look! I did it!!She’s lifting the cup in the air as she floats. The kitten paws, still clawless, hold tight to the rim as its peeking head offers the faintest ‘meow’.
Tiefling Druid: Are you truly a goddess?Both of you turn to look. Horns, red hair, yellow skin- wearing a bird’s nest as a hat.Tiefling Druid: Or are you a wizard pretending to be one? I-I wouldn’t judge.As your Goddess’s face lights up, you let her do the sales pitch while you peek at the good ol’ Quest Board. Back then, you were thankful to the raiders and beasts and savage goblins for saving you from your studies: finding out another whole day had come and gone with you studying had gotten depressing. You almost started justifying it. So, let’s see what sort of stupid nonsense the day has to offer:>Looking for a Bard! Found Dragon distracted by music.>Goblin Just Wants To Find Love Please Help Me>I’m a Teller of Tales in dire need of realistic references.>Banana experiment gone wrong.>Lost my nephew in a dungeon, it’s been three months.>Help wanted in researching Suspected Cult Activities>Bodyguard wanted for Migration>Gigantic Banana has been terrorizing our village.Wow. Things clearly fell off after the Red Lich saved the world: no more good and evil, no more epic journeys. You shake your head: someone has to draw that line somewhere. You glance at your Goddess. She’s still immersed in avid conversation with this wayward tiefling, and she seems to be enjoying it enough.>Ask about a quest.>Ask for a drink yourself.>Try to join a conversation.>Ask around for any venture.>Try to recruit someone into the Church.>Gamble>Write-In
>>6418163>Goblin Just Wants To Find Love Please Help MeBINGO! What could be more innocent than a lowly goblin looking for true love?>Ask about a quest.>Ask for a drink yourself.Ask about this goblin.
>>6418163>Banana experiment gone wrong.>Gigantic Banana has been terrorizing our village.>Gamble
>>6418166+1
For some alien reason, you find yourself wondering if the barman’s afro, the man’s hair and not himself, feels lonely. If it’s just pretending not to care to look strong, or if it’s trying to convince itself that it doesn’t care about living alone. Noticing yourself having these absurd thoughts terrorizes you, so you do the most logical thing.>Ask for a drink yourself.Bob the Cleric: So, what do the good men have around these parts?He shoots you a glance too tired to be scornful as your Goddess tells the tiefling about the Bee Vers.Barman: Water.Bob the Cleric: Fair enough.At least nobody had the balls to ask the Goddess for a refund yet. They know better than to tempt what they don’t understand, at least for free.>Ask about a quest.You sip on your tankard of very clean water, of which there are many cast aside. The Quest Board is just a bunch of papers crudely stitched against some planks, some nigh illegible, most sporting drawings that remind you of tender children. As the chatter drowns the background music, you grab the one about the goblin looking for love, accidentally ripping it apart as you tear it from the board.“I am goblin. Ugly and small and stupid. Other goblins ugly and small and stupid too. Unfuckable. Name is Dondo. Call for me in Wheel Village if you are pretty. I work at the workshop.”The workshop in Wheel Village, then, which is a highly specialized goblin forge city with more workshops than bathrooms, famous for developing the Goblin Karts and a cheap airship model that is meant to be used only once. Hmm. You’ve given up on that kind of love long ago. The next poster is much more well written.“I am a highly successful wizard who devoted his years to establish conversations with mundane objects, such as ladders, pans, and goblins. A devious banana has abused its charms to seduce me in exchange of power, but now I can’t find it. Bring it back to me unharmed posthaste, and you shall be rewarded.”Attached to the flier is a picture of a banana. It looks exactly like any other. You just rip another piece of paper from the board as the Goddess teaches a fully armored knight how to dance.“A huge fiend is stalking Mordhovia Village, but we are cowards too afraid to leave or face it. It looks like a banana. It does! Everyone thinks we are joking. I know the truth though. We had it easy, we thought they’d never defend themselves. We gorged on their flesh, and for what? Just to fornicate all day and night long, to fornicate the day after too! And now they’ve come. While we fornicated. And the apples are next! WE DESERVE THIS!”You don’t feel inclined to criticize those who live only to fuck. You’ve seen it firsthand: gentle-hearted prostitutes taking starving orphans under their roof, aware of the harshness of the streets because they had not been blessed with an easy life. You wonder if the Wet Book condemns fucking beavers despite their consent.
Goddess: Who wants to come here?You look- up. The Goddess, worryingly happy as usual, is walking on the roof, stretching her blessed hand towards the druid, the knight, and the barman too. Of very course, more than half the patrons have their eyes glued on her.Knight with extremely shrill and childish voice: I’m afraid I’d fall into the skies if I dance over there.Goddess: Then let’s fly!Tiefling Druid: I’ll- pass on that one.The barman and his afro give you a /look/. There’s only so much novelty a man can take, and you reckon he’s done his best. You are about to say something but the sound of crushed wood steals your attention. You look over your pauldron and the holy pages etched on it. The fangs dangle on the naked Orc’s chest as his big green hand bends the bulky dwarf’s hand against the table, whose face looks too red.Thrifty Gnome: Twenty pieces of gold! Twenty pieces if you can best my friend over here at arm wrestling!Lanky Elf: Huh! And what if I lose?Thrifty Gnome: Weeeeell, you pay us twenty pieces of gold.Lanky Elf: That’s stupid. We should be getting more than what we bet!Thrifty Gnome: Tell you what, friend.He rests his small hand on the elf’s shoulder, looking at him straight in the eye.Thrifty Gnome: If you win, on my honor, I’ll give you a thousand pieces of gold. I’ll sell my mother’s house if I have to. I’ll sell my soul to a warlock. Everybody heard us.Orc Friend: I heard too.Lanky Elf: Deal!Excited, the lanky elf shoves the dwarf aside and sits across the orc on the other side of the table, slamming his pointy elf elbow on the small wooden table. The orc’s lips linger as his eyes dim; perhaps he is genuinely curious about the workings of the brain for the very first time in his life. You prepare to cast a healing spell as the orc’s hand engulfs the elf’s dainty fingers, hoping the Goddess is distracted enough to hear. But the scream is deafening. Tortuous. Endless. By the end of it, the elf’s arm looks like a noodle.Lanky Elf: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! AAAA-…or perhaps what that arm needs is a necromancer.>Regarding the Goddess:>>Let the Goddess have her fun. Let her leave an impression.>>Tell the Goddess to behave or else people will grow weary of her.And:>Pick one:>>Ask around (about what?)>>Try to recruit someone (for what?)>>Defy the Orc to an arm-wrestling match.>>Go find the woman who made a prayer to the Goddess.>>Write In
>>6418604>Let the Goddess have her fun. Let her leave an impression.>Go find the woman who made a prayer to the Goddess.
>>6418604>Let the Goddess have her fun. Let her leave an impression.>Go find the woman who made a prayer to the Goddess
>Let the Goddess have her fun. Let her leave an impression.Yes, it is embarrassing. Yes, you are going to get shit over this, and well deserved. But, at least a strong impression will ensure that these adventurers don’t forget about your Goddess, so all that’s left to do is to ensure their inconvenience is worthwhile. You just let her be for now; she’s having so much fun that she didn’t even hear the elf’s humerus sing like a twig.>Go find the woman who made a prayer to the Goddess Last time, you had to find a lost kitten that turned out to be a displacer beast. Before that, you and the Goddess had to pretend to be the grandparents of someone who felt too guilty. Now? You don’t even know what the prayer is yet. Politely making your way through the ever-drunker, full-time job refugees, you walk in circles through the vast tavern. All you know about this woman is that her black hair is short, that she’s quite tall, and that likes to laugh at the faces of fish. That’s it. No race, background, nothing. Those are the details your Goddess pays attention to.Bob the Cleric: Ah- DAMN!- what?!Someone slapped your ass, but you turned around too late; the council of shit-eating grins is all the proof you need. Shaking your head, you walk away. To do so to a man of the White- some heathens in dire need of guida-Bob the Cleric: ASDHUKJAHAYou turn around nigh-instantly this time: it happened again. Yet, whoever did it is a prodigy, a man of the shadows, an arbiter of darkness. An elf’s cheeks are all puffed up as he looks away. A table of she-orcs giggles gutturally. An old, mysterious looking wizard, of the type that always keeps to the dark corners, is struggling to cover his mouth as his whole head bobs side to side. Wearing a scowl, you ignore all these lowly folksBob the Cleric: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYou fall to your knees in defeat: that one left a searing mark on your buttcheeks, likely a summoning circle. You catch your breath again and keep going: you won’t threaten that to happen again. Defeated, sad, and humiliated, you just crawl away, hoping that your Goddess remains easily distractedand then you hear it. Thanks to the silence, you hear it.…Your aimless wanderings, the trials your ass endured: justified. You catch it, nimble waves like words flung through the air, as if the land itself had a heartbeat. Your heightened perception, a gift you keep to yourself, is telling you this place does in fact have an attic. Turning around with both hands on your ass, you find it: a staircase that goes down.Retardedly ripped halfling: The bathroom’s the other way, friend.You look sideways, then sideways still but a bit lower: a halfling, half your size, is staring daggers at you. It has twice the muscles that you have. It must have trouble both breathing and turning its neck around. You smile politely and walk away, instantly concerned again with finding a tall lady with short black hair.
Goddess: Bob, look!No luck. It’s a cold, rainy night, so it’s no wonder this den is crammed. Back then, you’d be networking left and right, trying to find a hole for yourself in any dangerous expedition aiming for short-term profit.Goddess: Bob! Bob! Look! Over here!That being said, there’s still the second floor. And by the looks of it, you can rent a room over there. There would be the problem of the coin, but maybe if-Bob the Cleric: Ah-Something hits you square in the ear. Dazzled, you turn around, your eyes daring all over. When they stumble upon the floor, you find a banana- right above, a peeved Goddess.Goddess: Why aren’t you looking at me? That’s so mean of you!Bob the Cleric: Ah. Sorry Great Guiding Spirit, I’m looking, I’m looking.She needs to be looked at. You get it. Your bad. And yet, the object of your worship is already surrounded by merry folk of all walks of life, most watching her from their seats.Goddess: They said that if I down this horn they’ll never drink again. Right?!Fully armored paladin: YEAH!Shady looking dragonborn: Save me, fairy!The horn is… not a horn, but a fang. And it must have been the fang of something big, red, and perpetually angry. If it’s as hollow as you think, then no normal belly stands a chance against it. Well, for one, you know that she doesn’t need to eat. Or drink. Two, well… What even is in that horn? Can a god get shitfaced? Are there records of such events in holy scripture? At least not in the Wet Book. That’s a thing you know.The Goddess is about to put dwarfs to shame.>Let her.>Stop her.As for that beating sound you’ve heard…>Odds are it's unrelated.>Try to find a way to the second floor first. You’ll need money. (How?)>Try to get downstairs. (How?)>Write In,
>>6418989>Let her.Well if she can't get drunk its good to know, plus it'll be a good impression on the locals. If she does get drunk we will need a room so she can sleep it off.>Try to find a way to the second floor first. You’ll need money. (How?)Well my first thought is maybe share a room with that Tiefling Druid who seemed pretty nice, so maybe more time getting to know her and what Bob can say. If shes already got a room here then presumably she can have guests.My second idea would be to go around seeing if anyone needs some reading or writing done. Bob the Cleric is probably one of the more literate people here. There might be people who need help writing or reading a letter, a quest for the board, etc.Or that elf with the mangled arm, healing isn't free even at the temples.
>>6418989>Let her.>Try to find a way to the second floor first. You’ll need money. (How?)>>6419218+1 to this idea I suppose.... I'm leaning more towards the healing, but if people need reading then why not?
>>6419218>>6419294Aight so, this is what I think>Tiefling DruidChar roll. 10 and she likes Bob, 15 and she agrees to share a room with someone she met overnight. You can add /one/ written argument to attempt to get (or lose) some points.>Reading WritingAnother char roll. 10 for Bob to sell himself well and get customers.>Fucked-up elfChar and Wis rolls. 8 and he agrees to be healed, 10 and Bob heals him successfullyThis looks good? Also, the abysmal posting schedule is temporary.
>>6419504Acceptable, yes-yesssss....
>>6419504Sounds good
then roll niggasWe always roll 1d20s here
Rolled 18 (1d20)>>6419539Rolling for reading/writing
Rolled 16 (1d20)>>6419539For Tiefling
We are a bit underniggastaffed, so roll char and wis for fucked up elf to pretty plz
Rolled 13 (1d20)>>6419539Char
Total Bob Victory
>>6419570Not yet. Anyone roll that wis
Rolled 18 (1d20)>>6419572Wis
>>6419553>>6419556>>6419566>>6419576Writtan later or tomorrow cuz I have to help some nigga lift a washing machine
>>6419583Where are you my nigga
>>6420006He’s lost in the floral soap section of the store. It’s too expensive.
>>6420006writin! The motivation is there, it's just that shit likes to pile up
>>6419218>>6419294>Let her.You chuckle. Bob the Cleric: The wine’s going to come pouring out of your eyes, my Savior. There’s just not enough room in you.Goddess: Then I’ll drink my tears over and over.More stares are drawn as she raises the horn high as if it was a feather.Goddess: Health!And down it goes, chug chug chug. Why would you stop your Goddess from saving these poor souls? Or from saving herself? Who are you, anyway? Just a humble cleric, the smallest piece of the Big Puzzle. Worse comes to worst, they can’t fuck her. Or stab her. Or run away from her, but they asked for this.>Try to find a way to the second floor first. You’ll need money.Like all the rest, the knight with the shrill voice and the Tiefling Druid are absorbed in the show, likely trying and failing to make sense of their eyes over and over. Mouth already open, the arrow held back by your tongue, you study the Tiefling’s yellow skin but stop at her most eccentric hat. It’s looking at you: tiny, yet piercing blue eyes in the dark of the bird nest hat. You step closer, and it does too: a hummingbird, just big enough to be seen, its glossy skin blue. Hypnotized, you stretch your pointing finger towards it, and it hops on your nail with disregard. Uncanny, the feeling on your skin is that of wayward needles. When you lift the bird to get a closer look, it ends up between the two sunsets that are the red eyes of the Tiefling Druidwho looks terrified.
Tiefling Druid: I-um-eh-Your brow widens as you notice that, despite being frozen, she’s positively shaking.Tiefling Druid: It’s not a mosquito… so please, don’t…!Ah. You finally focus back on the bird, which is as big as your thumb, and it finally hits you. Its glossy skin, the lack of feathers, that faintest clinking sound when its wings move instantly…Bob the Druid: This is a construct.The construct leaps to the bridge of your nose. Cheeky little thing. It just twists that metal beak around at lightspeed as the fingers of the Tiefling loom behind it, but then it jumps at the last moment-Bob the Cleric: A!!-and those fingers end up poking your eyes.Tiefling Druid: Oh my Goddess, I’m so sorry!But the Goddess is still going hard on that horn, with the whole rest of the tavern entranced by her performance. Maybe that’s how you get dwarfs to pray. You rub the back of your fingers against your eyes, and when you look back at the Druid it’s like she’s just a messy, foggy cloud.Bob the Cleric: Yeah. Don’t worry.Tiefling Cleric: Again, I’m so sorry! It’s shy, so I never had to worry about it doing something like that.Bob the Cleric: Don’t fret. I’m used to this treatment.Goddess: WOHOOOO!Bob the Cleric: Folks like treating me like a horse.Tiefling Druid: Like a horse?Bob the Cleric: Yes. Horses don’t get angry that much.Faint buzzing slashes your ears, and it’s the mechanical hummingbird orbiting your head. Oddly, you dread it finding your bald spot, but the thought only lasts until the fake bird finds your stretched finger again.Tiefling Druid: Well… I hate it when people get angry.She gently picks up the flappy bird and hides it in the hat.Tiefling Druid: And I like horses.>CHAR ROLL (Success: 10/15) : 16 (+3) =SUCES (What impression does Bob cause on the Tiefling Druid?)
Tiefling Druid: So you go around Steel Garden answering prayers with your Goddess?Bob the Cleric: That’s right. That’s my life.You rest your tankard behind you, winking at the barman and its afro for a refill, hoping for nothing but the purest water. The Tiefling puts a hand inside her own: you can hear the purring from it.Tiefling Druid: Because I was hoping for the rain to end I don’t have a room here yet. But, I wouldn’t mind sharing one with you two. I find it hard to fear your Goddess. Besides-The Goddess had passed out on a table nigh-instantly, so you and the Artificer Druid (and many others) are watching over her. Apparently, gods do get shitfaced.Tiefling Druid: -it doesn’t seem like I have a choice if I would dare try to be at ease. Oh, but don’t misunderstand me. It’s not that I consider the behavior to be un-lady-like, it’s just, plain… dangerous.Bob the Cleric: You are a kind soul, I tell you what. Lady…?Tiefling Druid: …Lady.Bob the Cleric: Lady Lady.You snort and chuckle- but the lack of a reaction astounds you.Bob the Cleric: I know, I know. Your type mustn't be comfortable with honorifics.Then, the Tiefling gestures with her fingers to herself, but you don’t get the meaning.Tiefling Druid: My name, in demonic, is read… Lady. So, um, yes. That would make me… ‘Lady Lady’.Bob the Cleric: Hah. Wow.Lady Lady: Yes, yes…Words are so silly, you consider. That’s one thing down, but if you are going to share a room with this woman then that means you are paying half- and zero, eldritch knowledge aside, isn’t half of anything.Bob the Cleric: I’ll be off for a while. May you take on the sacred duty of watching over the Goddess of Innocence?It’s like her horns shiver.Lady Lady: B-but that sounds like such an important… spiritual thing…!Bob the Cleric: Eh, kinda.You kick yourself off the bar, taking your cup of nothing but water with you. Even if gold buys slaves, it still puts a roof over your head. Maybe it isn’t the problem. Then again, maybe making everything easier /is/ a problem.
You don’t take much to find the half-broken elf. Someone was kind enough to fashion a splint by cutting the tip of a big scabbard to put his arm into, which is held in place by a wide scarf acting like a sling by going behind his neck. Sitting at a small table at the end of the tavern, the lanky elf is still sobbing loudly. Sitting across it is a hulk of a woman, a barbarian, and if she called you ‘little princess’ you’d fold immediately.Lanky Elf: Waaaah!! I can’t slap wenches with this arm! Waaaaah!Amazon Barbarian: Wanna try dat with your other arm?Lanky Elf: No and thank you very much.He stopped crying instantly to smile politely. You walk up to him.Bob the Cleric: You know, by the grace of the Goddess I can make the world remember the proper shape of your arm.He looks at you, then tastes you with his eyes from feet to forehead; the lanky elf grimaces at your fashion sense.Lanky Elf: You mean that Goddess?Someone is poking at your Goddess’s ear with the pommel of a longsword.Bob the Cleric: You’d rather be judged from the heavens by an angry old man? That’s not even this cute?Lanky Elf: Fair enough. Do your thing.Bob the Cleric: You know, the power of this healing depends on your devotion to the Goddess…You wink at the elf. Surprised at the gesture, he looks at his wall of meat of a partner, who gives you the tired look of survivors who danced this song too many times. Despite your charisma, you can’t help smiling a bit out of shame. When the elf tries to point at you with his broken arm, however, the man stops himself mid-sentence to sigh.Lanky Elf: Whatever. Have some ‘faith’.Some coins are spilled on the table, which are then mixed with the offerings of the huge women.Amazon Barbarian: Only because your Goddess /is/ cute.That much, at the very least, she is.>CHAR ROLL (Success: 8) : 13 (+3) = SUCES (Does Bob convince the elf to pay for the healing?)
Bob the Cleric: Now, we will have to take it out of there.Lanky Elf: Monster.The barbarian stands and you realize that, while sitting, her knees were almost up to her shoulders. She takes the elf’s arm out of the scabbard with little patience.Lanky Elf: Careful, you beast!Amazon Barbarian: Your whining is too amusing.Once the arm is laid over the table, you open the Wet Book with one hand and proceed with your chanting. You aren’t a magician or a nexus of magic, but merely a conduit from which the divine will of your Goddess flows. Meaning that maybe, if your Goddess is drunk and asleep, there won’t be much divine will to work with. You being chanting, regardless, hoping to still be host to at least drops of her holy kindness.Lanky Elf: …Amazon Barbarian: …You continue to recite the holy words from the Wet Book- then stop. Much everyone watching, you walk up to the Goddess, lift her with your arms, princess-carry her to the table, then push her head against the elf’s wounded arm. When she snores, the elf gasps: the drool that the Goddess leaks on the arm is shining.Lanky Elf: My arm! It’s fixed! It’s a miracle!Bob the Cleric: Did y’all hear that? A miracle, no less!You pick up the Goddess again as if she was a hay bag and put her back on her table. She snores again before you leave.>WIS ROLL (Success: 10) : 18 (-4) = SUCES (Can Bob use magic to heal the Elf’s broken arm?)You pick up the coins from the table.Bob the Cleric: Thank you for your ‘devotion’. By the way, I’m also versed in both reading and writing, should you require such services.You said so loud enough for the rest to hear, taking advantage of your last stunt. Truth is, you don’t enjoy the spotlight, you endure it- yet gracefully. The whispers spread as Lady Lady looks at you from across the hall, but her face and gestures remain dull; odds are she doesn’t know what to say. A rather small ogre approaches.Small Ogre: Humhum, may you write, ‘my Goddess is retarded’?He explodes in laughter, and the ogres behind him too.Bob the Cleric: For the right price, sure. But what will you do when she finds out?Small Ogre: Huh?His fat lips curl in an unknown expression. Letargy has taken over this one many years ago.Bob the Cleric: Well- she /is/ a Goddess.He smiles with what’s left of his teeth, lifting his club- but you are patient. You just let it sink in.Small Ogre: Oh.Bob the Cleric: I can offer you a divine pardon for 20 coins.Small Ogre: That’s fair.He pays you instantly and walks away, without even waiting for you to give him something. You blink, surprised by the subtle show of intelligence. A dwarf wearing a massive cloak knocks on your shoulder.Elegant Dwarf: Scuse me, lassie->CHAR ROLL (Success: 10) : 18 (+3) = GREAT SUCES (How well does Bob sell himself to the customers as a writer and reader?)
You walk back to the Tiefling Druid, belly empty, but pockets full. Ascetism is the way of your Goddess, but the market is the way of the world.Lady Lady: You were short of coin, were you? I-I wouldn’t have cared if you told me.Bob the Cleric: Honor is expensive, Lady Lady. Demanding faith from a gentle soul is a luxury I can’t afford.The hummingbird darts around your ears. You had to write a letter to goblin royalty, read someone’s tattoo (which said ‘goliaths are sissies’), and teach an ogre how to write its own name with his fist. But, it all paid off. And, since your mark wasn’t here and some are already daring to leave while the heavens sweat, you might as well just pack up your Goddess and-Bob the Cleric: …oh, no, NO, where is she?Lady Lady: Your Goddess? She’s over… there?No. She is not. You feel how your throat gradually shrinks. You look around frantically, focusing on each corner of the tavern as you look around, carefully scanning the faces of each laughing hunter or lonely wizard. Some are chatting lively, fighting to keep the mood alive, while others take advantage of the after hours to make quiet proposals. Because, sadly enough, it isn’t as hard anymore to look the whole place up. You do. Nothing. No shameless ruckus. No lingering golden swirl to track down.She's gone.
The hand on your back startles you, but it’s the Lady Lady.Lady Lady: My Lord, what if you ask the barman?Bob the Cleric: But what if they get away?Lady Lady: Who?You don’t know who. Before you find that out, you spot /something/ in the Tiefling’s red eyes, something can’t stab with a name. Stuck trying to figure it out, you just continue to stare at her straight in the eyes as the Tiefling grows awkward, shuffles around, and then finally turns around. Steady like a rock, chin hard like steel, you make for the bar on vague, dark suspicions-Barman: …help-which are washed away as if a waterfall had crushed you against the rocks. Your belly suffers as relief deflates you. The Goddess is -right there-, -right behind the bar- right next to the petrified barman--still drinking from the horn.Goddess: I hAdn’T… finiSHEd it Yet. HIC!…You study this picture /carefully/: it’s haunted by too many implications. The Goddess tosses the horn aside without a care in the world, then starts cleaning mugs with a rag herself. As you notice the scowl the barman wears, as you notice the blatant absence of bitching, you keenly feel how your euphoric relief shifts and twists into something else entirelylike how the air around you /feels/.
Goddess: ….YOU KNOW……………….… yOu aLL don’t look Like yOU Love eACH other that much.The way it’s delivered… You’d think it's the sound that comes out of your Goddess’s immaculate lips, but your conversations with her always felt off somehow. As if air didn’t ring your eardrums when she spoke. As if the words didn’t come from anywhere specificGoddess: whY? She frowns.Goddess: whY is thatHICWhat you see in her eyes pushes your words back down your throat: the earnestness stalking inside of them. While a few lucky patrons already left or went up to sleep, those still here who see what you see are fast to find their limbs growing stiff. Next to you, Lady Lady is holding the cat cup too close to her chest, moving little as if to shred her own presence, little by little.You think she feels it toothis alien mood swingbut when the Goddess smiles, it becomes too obvious.Goddess: leT mE help with THatOne second. In just one second, the half-orc warlock smashes the old wizard against the table, tearing the fabric over his chest to chest as they candidly taste each other’s tongues. You grimace fully and at once. The lanky elf shudders as his huge amazonian partner smells his neck, the paladin slams the screaming gnome against a wall and smashes his own helmet against the floor, two she-orc archers are kissing where the helmet ended up, the barman jumps from the table and tackles down the arm-wrestling orc… It’s just getting started. Panicking, you glance at Lady Lady right as she glances at you, and you find the shape of her horns to be alluring. It reminds you, clearly, of one relevant factthat you never properly explained your Goddess what ‘fucking’ is.Goddess: hEhEhEhEhEhE>PICK ONLY ONE>>Run! (Where?!)>>Hide! (Where?!)>>Try to reason with the Goddess! (How?!)>>Write In!
>>6420133>Pick up the Goddess and get out.
>>6420141You try to grab her by the waist with both handsand both hands go right through her.Also, she giggles, and says it tickles.
>>6420133Caring for a Goddess is harder than it looks.I wonder if its just the inn or surrounding parts of the town as well. If this is another aspect of his Goddess is he supposed to try and talk drunk her out of it, or just survive it?>Grab a room key, grab Lady, lock the door and wait for this to blow over
>>6420151>Channel trauma then grab
>>6420133>>Try to reason with the Goddess! (You are destroying their lives. Love should only be given freely. When they succumb to Lust but don't live each other, this will destroy their relationships and their feelings of self. Controlling the will of others is the opposite of love. Do you hate them that much that you do this to them or did you just find it funny and not consider the consequences. Please stop this, goddess! Please stop it right now! I'll explain it all later but you have to stop it. Pretty pretty please! )
>>6420162wut!>>64201591 for gtfo.>>64202021 for talking.Ok I'll give it a few hours and then roll for it
>>6420202I'll support this
>>6420202>>6420351Aight so>Goddess is drunk out of her ass>She doesn't understand the concept of lust.>She's outright enraged of being accused of being evil.>She does like the begging.Char roll, 20 to success. Any objections?
Rolled 2 (1d20)>>6420366Sounds about right to me. The only things I could think would be his origin trauma, if something of a similar nature involving a cult happened where they lost their minds. Which would make what hes saying have more weight and make more sense.And whatever impact Bob being her Chosen? Champion? Caretaker? Or if thats what allows the roll in the first place.I think its a +3 from Charisma, dunno if he had any + from being a Cleric on doing Cleric things like earnestly praying to your Goddess.
>>6420371>2Shucks, I don't suppose we have any inspiration
>>6420373Nope, you are FUCKEDmaybe even literally.>>6420371>if something of a similar nature involving a cult happenedBob's trauma does involve losing his own family to a cult, but, thing is, the family WAS the cult, he was born into it. In fact, he even helped get more people into the cult, and was full of shit himself. It doesn't come into play this time.>Which would make what hes saying have more weight and make more sense.Sadly, even when what we say makes complete and total sense it can still be disregarded because others don't like how it sounds. This wouldn't make it a + modifier unless he can bring to the table concrete details of that experience- and even then, wishful thinking is a thing.>Or if thats what allows the roll in the first place.That Bob isn't already fucking the drinking horn/fang already has meaning.>I think its a +3 from CharismaEarnestly praying to the Goddess gives him + modifiers when using divine magic. Sadly, his devotion won't make his Goddess any easy to convince of anything.
>>6420141>Pick up the Goddess and get out. The impulse wins. The smartest solutions are simple, so even if the Goddess’s waist suddenly seems warm and slender Bob still tries to grab it from both sides, to pick up this drunk idiot before she tarnishes her reputation (and everyone else’s) foreveronly for both his hands to go cleanly through her as if she was a waterfall.Goddess: hEhEhEhE bOB!!! thAT tiCkles!!Desperation surges from within. The amazon slams the lanky, screaming elf’s face against the wall, two human warriors are looking into each other’s eyes deeply as they explore their features with their fingers, the thrifty gnome is running from a frenzied ogre, and the barman is shouting ‘BREAK ME!’ over and over. Meanwhile, Lady Lady is completely paralyzed, even as the hummingbird orbits around her head in panic.>Try to reason with the Goddess!But you do not falter, for this is your duty as a cleric of the Church. As the Goddess of Innocence’s eyes grow brighter, as her skin grows softer, you puke words out with what might remains.Bob the Cleric: Goddess! You you your are destroyingtheir lalalives! Love should only be given- freely!Goddess: i KNOW right!No doubt about it: you botched that first part.Bob the Cleric: When they succumb to Lust but don't live… LOVE… each other, this will destroy their relationships and their feelings of self!Goddess: lust? LUsT! wE won’T SUCCumb to LUst! we’LL CRUSH HIM! togeTHIC!She slams that tender, white, balled-up fist on the table regardless. You close your eyes as you whimper: it is to be expected for the Goddess of Innocence to not even know what lust is. You do, however- and are learning more by the second. But it’s from the depths that your burning faith rises.
Bob the Cleric: Goddess!! C-C-Controlling the will of others is the opposite of love! Sacred Being! Do you hate them that much that you do this to them? Or did you just find it funny and are not considering the consequences?The Goddess gasps, then you yell as your knees are magnetized by the floor. You look up; from behind the bar rises the head and shoulders of your angry Goddess, as if she was a mountain.Goddess: hOW dare YOU! HIC! HIC! I’m NoT ControllHIC anYONE!!! this is wHAtthey want! Tha’S why tHey are doing it! sHY people DESERve HIC hElP tOOHIC!Bob the Cleric: …what?!So; all the Goddess did was remove their inhibitions. This is what’s left.Goddess: hOW dare YoUuUU! Stupid, STUPID BoB! i don’T hate ANYone! I LOOOOOVEE evERYone!HIC! sTUPID! LOOK! tHEY are HAPPY!Oh no, oh crap, oh fuckyou feel it. She’s doubling down; her golden hair looks like honey. Someone is screaming. Someone is caressing your back. Because you implied she was evil. Because you’ve hurt her ego at the worst possible time. Lady Lady: D-deep breathes, deep breathes-You then hear Lady Lady whisper some sort of mantra, stiff as bone as love starts breaking chairs and tables. You fucked up, Bob. You fucked up. What’s left to do but beg.Bob the Cleric: ppppplease stop this, my Goddess! ppppplease stop it right now! I'll explain it all later but you have to stop it… pppppretty pppppretty pppppppppleeeeaseeeeeeeeeAAAAAAASomeone slapped your ass. Againand now your left ear is drowned by frantic, erratic breathing.>CHAR ROLL (Success: 20) : 2 (+3) (+2)= FAILRE(Can Bob reason with the Goddess?) >PICK ONLY ONE>>Run! (Where?!)>>Hide! (Where?!)>>Beg! (What?!)>>Write In!
>>6420471>>Beg! (What?!)Goddess please, some of these people are surely married or promised to another and these acts are breaking their sacred vows! I suppose there's also that paladin who may or may not have some kind of relevant pact with their god.>>Hide! (Where?!)If that doesn't work I guess grab the room key, grab Lady Lady, and lock ourselves in until this blows over.
>>6421136You get only ONE choice, nigga. Especially now.
>>6420471>Tickle attack! Out the door or into a giggling pile.
>>6421138Might as well double down and go with the Beg then
>>6421167Explain.
>>6421190Physical touch phases through the goddess, but it’s still tickles. Tickles are more effective when someone is drunk. So aim for weak points until she keels over.
>>6421190I believe his intention is to make use of that fact Bob could tickle her when we tried to pick her up. Shes using her power and will, but who can do anything while they are being tickled? Plus getting her out of her bad mood by laughing. Once she loses her mood and her concentration, presumably this whole spell falls apart.At least that would be my guess of his intentions. Seems like it could be a pretty good plan given how ridiculous the situation is in the first place. I'd support that.
>>6421195>I'd support that.Then tickling God it is. A few factors to consider:-There is someone breathing on Bob's left ear. I'll give you guys the choice to either a) roll perception to find out who, b) react instantly. If you lose the perception roll then Bob will have wasted enough time to give the other the initiative.-You'll have to roll char to see how the Goddess takes it. While she is innocent, the Goddess may be worried about how others see her in some way.Besides, she's angy.-Bob is also getting taken over by whatever miracle the Goddess is cooking. The stat to roll for this? Wisdom. Yeah, that -4 is here.-You'll need a plan in case this nonsense works out somehow.
>>6421208>React instantly>Plan: dunk goddess in a trough
>>6421223>Plan: dunk goddess in a troughSo basically: try to some sober some fool up.>React instantlyWhat is Bob's instinctual reaction?
>>6421227>Elbow
>>6421229If the rest agrees with that, then roll me the following:-Dex to land the elbow on reaction, 10 to succeed.-Str to elbow, 8 to knock out.-Char roll to see if Bob is charming enough to quell the wrath of god, 13 to succeed.-Wisdom to not do something he'll regret forever. 8 to succeed.-Kinda hard to dunk an intangible deity thing into a trough, so if you can't figure out a way to make that work then consider an alternative.If the difficulty seems fair then roll away one at a time. You can come up with a solution for the last point later unless you have a change of heart like right now.
Rolled 5 (1d20)>>6421238Yeah sure I'll agree Rolling for AgiOn the agility roll to hit. I don't know who we are elbowing but in their 'altered' state of mind, or if they've exhausted themselves before getting to Bob given the heavy breathing, hopefully they aren't going to be much of a challenge to hit. That said we do have -4 to agi? It might also be a matter of would that person want to receive whatever contact Bob is willing to offer, in this case an elbow, or lacking inhibitions would they want to get hit.We haven't delved very much into Bob's trauma so I can't really say if he would have a bonus or not. Or if the Wet Book's virtues and Commandments cover being able to restrain yourself specifically. Or what he would have to do to make it up, whats the honorable thing to do? Kill himself or marry someone?One guy did want to try channeling divine power, probably into Bob's hand or something, so that we could have physical contact. Could also try just praying while we do it, when you pray to a Goddess you are in direct contact with them so maybe he could dunk her. Or if he had a holy object, like the Wet Book, which he uses physically. I suppose there was also her holy drool that got on that Elf's arm to heal it and that might also work. There could be a bunch of her drool on the drinking horn.
Rolled 9 (1d20)>>6421238Str
Rolled 8 (1d20)>>6421238Char roll
>>6421265Gonna go on detail later, for now roll me a str saving throw for bob to shake off the attacker cause the elbow missed. 11 to shake off, less than 7 and Bob is knocked down, and anything in between means Bob can power through.
Rolled 1 (1d20)>>6421274NO LOVEONLY HATEDICE GOD BLOOD
Rolled 18 (1d20)>>6421274Sure
Rolled 3 (1d20)>>6421274
>Tickle attack! In the depths of despair, inspiration strikes. That’s it! Bob, you are brilliant. Touch may phase through her holy frame, yet you did hear the Goddess giggle. So, if sustaining this miracle requires of her focus, you may well make her lose it by tickling her ethereal shape???: ‘gasp’ ‘gasp’after you are safe from whatever predator is smelling your ear. A burning chill runs down your spine, but then takes a turn straight into your arm, into your elbowBob the Cleric: AAAAAA!which, ready to finally meet the ass stalker, you bring back with your own humble fury for now.>DEX ROLL (Success: 8) : 5 (-4) = FAILRE(Can Bob’s elbow find a chin?)You swung back so hard that you ended up turning around. As you lay suspended in time, mere inches from the floor, it’s all that you can see: Lady Lady’s red eyes now like sunrise, the faint, wicked grin shaping her lips, drooling like a stray pup. Your mouth curls dramatically. You fall on your butt with your back against the bar. The head of the drunk Goddess looms above you like a red moon.Bob the Cleric: …Lady Lady?Your voice came out like that of a squeaky mouse, of a coward sent to the vanguard. The tiefling, swallowed whole by the frenzy, jumps at you with wide open arms as you turn tail and run, Lady Lady looks like your wife but you don’t have one. Then it happens. You can’t explain it. Your senses go highwire when her body lands on yours from behind. It’s not lust. It’s uncanny, unreal. You feel like her body weighs a million times more than it should and, all of a sudden, it feels as if you were tied to the front of a train on fire escaping from an army of dragonsoff the rails.Bob the Cleric: -AAaaaa-It doesn’t even last a quarter of a second; the acceleration is so fast that you end up choking on your own scream. Your mind fails to piece the puzzle together before you are rammed against the tavern’s wall, rock hiding behind wood, now all of a sudden nothing but smoke and dust and debris and sound when your face meets it. Time dilates. The walls open. The roof shatters like glass. Now everywhere is outside. The shockwave from the impact sends the pantless paladin flying miles away into the dark, it sends the black barman, still holding the arm wrestling's orc hand, after the bright stars, it sends the thrifty, screaming gnome straight into heaven right as the ogre was right about to catch him. The Goddess regains all senses in a millisecond flat as the explosion blasts everyone away, as it vomits the innards of the tavern, as the whole place and all in it vanishes into the storm like a sandcastle being kicked. In but an instant, warriors and rogues and archers and wizards litter the heavens, all screaming for their lives, some naked, confusing the astrologist as new constellations are being formed.Merely a single second later, of the rock tavern only two things remain: a completely sober Goddess, and a wide spanning crater.
>STR ROLL (Success: 11) : 1 = EXTREME CRITICAL FAILRE(Can Bob shake off Lady Lady?)
Aight guys did you like the quest??
>>6421334I guess thats why they call it extreme critical quest>>6421336It was silly and I enjoyed it. I would like to see where it goes, or where it would have gone, in the aftermath. Or if Bob had locked himself and Lady Lady in a room until it blows over could they manage until daybreak or not.I was thinking Bob, Goddess, and Lady would get chased out of town. Then the adventures would continue with the banana quest.
>>6421336RIP Bob the Cleric who died of not talking to his goddess about what lovers do. >>6421382It was a quick and fun, sometimes even hilariously so, ride.I wonder about the aftermath too, but mostly about whether goddess will keep her domain of Innocence after that stunt or be tainted and become something else. Maybe we will find out with another flawed character in search of adventure, who knows?
>>6421336So ends bob.>>6421393> another flawed characterDownie?
>>6421398Downie.Was pretty close last time, I'm confident we'd roll that 8 next time.
Warm water is all you feel, all you think about. It envelops you, it protects you. Clean and naked, your body floats in the void, your sense of direction lost, your limbs lingering useless, yet you find no worry. You can’t hear. You can’t breathe. You cannot worry. When you open your eyes it doesn’t burn, the endless blue greets you like an old home, the blurry horizon invites you to stay. You swim around, let yourself twirl, twist, and fall at your leisure, giggling, laughing like a silly little girl. And, just like one, you gasp sharply as the school of cat-fish-dog-beavers swarms you, purring like cats, with flippers for legs, the long snout of dogs, that can consent to getting fucked. Right. This is the heaven of the Goddess of Innocence, who loves taking hot baths and little animals; you would have known even without spotting the gargantuan statue in her likeness. However, there is- something- odd- about it. It’s slight; until it’s not. The way the its face is taking out the tongue, the size of its marble dress, the angle of her hips, the shape of her smirk; you keep spotting details as the cat-fish-dog beavers swarm you, friendly, getting too friendly with each otherand then you are crushed against the rock tavern’s wall.Bob the Cleric: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
You can’t catch your breath; it’s like your chest is half the size. Frantically is how you gauge your surroundings, the shapes and colors and sounds making no sense until they do, until someone grabs both your arms at once and holds you together.Lady Lady: -ease! At ease!………….It’s the Lady Lady, the same that vaporized a wall with your body. You /shriek/ but, again, your strength isn’t enough, and no matter how much you kick and wail your arms stay still.…???: No fucking way. You actually did it.As if beckoning salvation, your head turns to the source too fast. It’s not salvation; you recognize that instantly. The one you call the Scammer, a tall, lanky, blonde woman of brown skin and short hair, who wears the mantle, crown, jewelry, and cape of the High Priestess, is gazing upon you in eerie fascination. Which is scary.Lady Lady: Bob. Bob. Nothing bad is going to happen. Look at me no- ahrgh!The Lady Lady is pushed aside. It’s also someone you recognize.Goddess: W-welcome back, Bob.Someone who is wearing a red face, wet with snot and tears. You get a little flashback as she jumps at you and hugs you, but nothing explodes.Goddess: W-W..W-WELCOME BACK, BOB! WAAAAH!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!Bob the Cleric: Goddess? Your voice feels shrill and weak. Despite that, you piece one and one together.Bob the Cleric: Did I die?Scammer: Yup! Totally got your ass blown apart.Lady Lady: And we finally bought you back by grace of the Goddess.A miracle. You look at Lady Lady again- and only now do you notice her change of wardrobe, as your Goddess wets your white shirt with warm tears. The nest on her head is but a crown of little sticks now, hidden by a cowl . Her shape is muffled by the black and white robe of the priestesses of your church, white all over with black accents at the hem, stick figures resembling happy people playing.Bob the Cleric: …How?Your eyes widen. You look at Lady Lady. Your Goddess yelps as you push her aside and then behind you to protect her.Bob the Cleric: You- you killed me! You killed everyone!
Bob the Cleric: Demon! Fiend!The Scammer grabs the dainty finger you are pointing at the now Cleric-Druid-Artificer, and puts it down. But, it’s Lady Lady herself who answers.Lady Lady: It was me. Yes, it was. Yes… I don’t know how I did it. I don’t know how it happened. It wasn’t my intention. But; it wasn’t because I’m a demon.You realize that what you said may have come off a bit racist when you were meaning ‘demon’ in a more specific way. Suddenly distracted, you shift your butt around: you are in a white bed, in a small wooden cabin that you are very familiar withyour room inside the Church of the Goddess of Innocence.Scammer: Calm your tits, Bob. Lady Lady’s been helping.You look at the scammer and then at the demon. It’s not reassuring enough. But then the face of the Goddess peeks from over your shoulder, and you turn to address her.Bob the Cleric: How long have I been out?Goddess: Two weeks, Bob. I was so scared. ‘sniff’The Goddess of Innocence hugs you from behind, a bit too hard for your taste.Goddess: What if it didn’t work? What if I wasn’t good enough?She’s such a mess even though you’ve known each other for less than a month, and that's because you were dead set on sinking her church. This Goddess is too much of a softie.
Scammer: Lady Lady has been going around doing your job while we were at the crater looking for your pieces to resurrect you. After Lady Lady blew up that shithole our church lost a lot of followers, so the Goddess lost power too and almost faded away again because of that.You remember the explosion, and the Goddess shrieks when you leap from her to stand on the bed.Bob the Cleric: You insane fool! She could destroy us all any second now!Lady Lady looks at the floor.Scammer: It’s been two weeks, Bob.Bob the Cleric: Two weeks… You’ve been risking us for two weeks?!The ‘High Priestess’ grabs your shoulder- tightly.Scammer: Look lil tits, we were pretty much fucked at the bottom of the barrel with you out, the only way was up, and now we are going up, so better be thanking that or else you wouldn’t be here. Okaysies??You try to slap her hand away- but she grabs it with the other with baffling ease. Yet, you hold her scummu, scamming stare.Bob the Cleric: It will happen again.Scammer: Which would be great! If we figure out what the fuck happened at the tavern we won’t have to worry about robbers or raiders or poor people anymore. Or taxes.She lets you snatch your arm back while you still shoot daggers at this scoundrel with a death wish… and then you look at the arm you got back. Finally, after the world made what little sense is enough for you, the details you hadn’t noticed started flooding in. Like the size of your arm. Or the fair color of its skin. Of the lack of hair at its back. The Goddess stands to look at you as you turn and twist your hand around, which gets buried under golden hair as you bend your head forward. With that same hand, you grab the hair. You pull on it. Your head hurts.…You look at the Scammer. Whose cheeks look like balloons.Scammer: …..Look. We never found all of your pieces and looking for them got boring, so I had this great idea.Very quietly, you listen intently, slowly realizing that the shirt you are wearing is a few sizes too big, that the Goddess has grown taller, that your room has too much room now.Scammer: What if, instead of putting you back together, we made a whole new body for our dear Bob? Since you’ve earned it after these wild two weeks of service. And since everyone now thinks that our Goddess of Innocence is the Goddess of Lust, wouldn’t it be great if our avatar was, meaning you…You whimper as you choke on the truth. Like a little girl.Scammer: …cute?…
You are sitting on the bed, lost in thought, still fixated on the blonde little girl staring back at you from the bottom of big glass of water that you are barely holding. Your long blonde hair gently scratches your knees as you shake your head from side to side, your feet don’t reach the floor anymore.Bob the Cleric: Wake me up. Wake me the /fuck/ up.Or don’t. You miss those cat-fish-dog-beavers so, so much right now. The Scammer is leaning against the wall, Lady Lady is making tea on your small wooden table, the Goddess is still sitting by your side, caressing your back with her hand, and you are trying to make sense out of existence. Her hand feels so big and safe that shame bites you, and when you turn to look at her you have to look up to find the Goddess’s eyes. Smiling, she holds your stare quizzically, her cheeks still rosy like wet grass in the morning, while you do a little math to figure out just how tall you are. Praying to be wrong, you just leap from the bed to stand, for the first time, with these young, tender feet- and when you turn around, standing, meet your Goddess eye to eye.And when she stands, you start mourning the other half of your height that you lost.Bob the Cleric: I want my real body back. /Now/.You said so decisively, firmly, with as much manliness as you could muster, with the most adorably sweet voice you’ve ever heard.Bob the Cleric: And I want her out of here /now/.With those same feelings, you point at Lady Lady. The tiefling nods quietly, fills your cup with tea, and then walks away.Lady Lady: I’m sorry.The substitute cleric shuts the door behind her. The Scammer sighs.Scammer: Well, there you go. One less cleric, only half a cleric left.Goddess: Bob, she’s nice. She has saved so many in your stead. She saved me.Bob the Cleric: She blew a tavern up trying to rape me.The Scammer explodes laughing, so much that she ends up coughing. You just watch her scratch the wood out of your walls as your big blue eyes catch fire.
Scammer: ..sO, so sorry, it’s just, your voice, your fucking voice man…You open the closet and grab your spare warhammer. You struggle, but can pull it out. When you notice that the scammer is looking, you just grab a rock and she recoils anyway.Scammer: A small body was easier to make! There’s your excuse, now take it! Lady Lady didn’t rest for two weeks spreading the word of our Holy Church. A bigger body would have taken far longer!Goddess: Oh, no, High Priestess, that wasn’t it. It was hard because you told me to make the cutest girl in the whole wide world!The old man in you looks at the scammer as if she kicked his dog, and hard. Yet, the taller blonde just waves away dismissively.Scammer: Quit bitching you little bitch. You are cute! Who the hell doesn’t want to be cute? It’s why we don’t step on puppies.You mumble something.Scammer: Huh?You mumble something louder. The Goddess and the Scammer lean closer. This time, you don’t mumble.Bob the Cleric: OUT, YOU TWO! OUT OF MY ROOM RIGHT NOW!You flail your arms around threateningly. It isn’t threatening.Scammer: Awww!Bob the Cleric: GET OUT!They take the hint and you slam the door shut. But then a shrill little scream escapes you when the Goddess’s head phases through the door from the outside.Goddess: Me too?Bob the Cleric: OUT!The face of your Goddess sinks back into the door. You grab your head. Like claws, you drag your fingers down through this golden hair, wondering when it ends.
After a while brooding, of long hours of introspection, the knocking on your door knocks you out of your head. You wait. You don’t answer. Better that than cursing your lungs out to then regret it, and you know that to heart.A muffled voice echoes from behind the door.Scammer: Open up, fuckhead. I know you are still the same bitter asshole, but you should at least be glad that we saved you.Bob the Cleric: Save yourself from me.Scammer: Daaaaamn, that angry? Look, is it really that bad? Can’t you just ask the Goddess to give you your real body later?You open the door. It was harder than you thought. Despite this new height difference, you feel this silent agreement between you and the scammer that you can and will find a way to kick her ass if she earns it. She walks in, dragging the cape of her outfit through the floor. You close the door behind her.Scammer: We need to talk business. I’ll lay it on you: everyone thinks Bob is dead. I wanted to make your resurrection a public event, but the Goddess didn’t want that. A total fucking waste of solid advertising if you ask me.Bob the Cleric: Point being?The scammer pats your head. You bite her hand.Scammer: AAAAAA LET GO BITCHYou don’t.Scammer: I’M SORRY!You do. She whines and shakes the hand. You didn’t draw blood, but it pains you to know that the temptation was there.
Scammer: Point being, that it may be pretty fucking wild if we tell everyone that we brought our guy back as a little girl. With the whole Goddess of Lust thing and all.Bob the Cleric: And you didn’t think that through. All this time.Scammer: Dead fucking serious: no. I didn’t.The scammer scratches her head. Years have taught you to believe her.Scammer: I mean, it’s your call, but I’m not sure how these folks are going to take it.Bob the Cleric: You mean I can’t even be me right now.Scammer: Bob, you’ll always be yourself, whether you want to or not. No matter how we market you.Goddess: Market me too!Scammer: AAA FUCK! Stop doing that!Now the head of the Goddess is on the floor, cheek puffed and all. She phases into the room entirely.Goddess: I don’t even have a name yet!Bob the Cleric: Goddess, you…The mnemic flashback strikes you like thunder. The way her presence flickers, how you can almost see right through her… It’s the same as back then. Back when she was your nemesis. She picks up on your stare instantly despite you being a different person now.Goddess: Oh- this? Haha, it’s nothing Bob! I can go overboard every now and then. The faith of my loyal followers will get me back in shape. Tomorrow for sure.She winks at you, her presence still as weak. Genuine worry strikes you.Bob the Cleric: …What did t cost? How -‘cute’- did you make this body?Goddess: Enough that I’m sure I won’t regret it.Then the holy being flashes a little grin.Goddess: Enough to make amends? Haha.No one should ever drink again.>This seems like an important choice.>Regarding the Goddess…>>”Your name is ‘Goddess of Innocence’.”>>Write in.>Regarding yourself…>>You don’t care. Let them know you are still the same old Bob.>>They aren't ready for this. You'll need a new name and story.>>Write in.
>>6421859>”Your name is ‘Goddess of Innocence’.”>You don’t care. Let them know you are still the same old Bob.Heavily traumatized, rape, and gender dysphoria.
If you guys feel like it, post the rationale behind your choices. I've always been interested in that.
>>6421859>>Write in.Adora. Went from Pandora, given the destructive nature of her innocence, to Dora to Adora. Plus shes Adorable.>>They aren't ready for this. You'll need a new name and story.Eventually Bob will get his body and name back. That said Bobby/Bobbie is still usable, as short for Roberta. A small way to grasp onto his remaining identity. I wouldn't feel bad if he just said fuck it tell them the truth either tho lol.Bob's lost sister? Daughter? Cousin? At least it might help ease the remaining similarities in speech and manner. Maybe even a belief that his whole bloodline was holy or some shit.Also Lust is rather a bad framing. Surely they could have atleast tried to frame it as Fertility and Harvest or something. Or Bacchus like, divinities that get drunk and other people get really drunk and party.
Gonna wait this one out.>Adora.However, I am railroading this. It is unethical, impractical, and it will cost me the trust of my players and therefore the long term stability of the quest. You will all look at me with digust and cringe from now on as I shit words and fuck up my keyboard with my tears and I will always be right forever.
>>6421859>>They aren't ready for this. You'll need a new name and story.It makes for a nice secret to only tell higher initiates so they can "know more" than the lower ups.Plus, if we can try to accept our rebirth and trying to start a new life with a new identity, maybe that will help us overcome our trauma (or at the least bury it deeper). For the new identity I don't like Roberta as that's the name another quest's MC (the still somewhat hiatus'd Shattered Phylactery one). Flavia maybe (meaning golden/blonde in latin)?Bob's daughter or cousin sounds good.
>>6421962> fuck it tell them the truth either tho lolBob the angry old man.> overcome our traumaI guess it depends on the trauma’s context, for all we know this can worsen it of having one’s sense of self altered by external circumstances. A loss of control.
>>6422151Glad you liked it >>6422262LOLAh so that MC was Roberta. I like Flavia so thats good with me.
2 to 1, and Flavia the Cleric it is. I'll wait for you guys to decide on a background story for her then, then try to update today.
I'm bored, so here's some suggestions:>From a very tender age, you were kidnapped by a clan of ninjas who mistook you for their Chosen One. The only thng they managed to teach you despite their harsh training is how to do backflips, but they still believe that you will save the world somehow.>You don't remember your parents. You were raised by a herd of hardcore raider cows who took pity on you after your father died trying to do a backflip. >The Goddess of Innocence bought you back from the afterlife to spread the word about how better her church is than all the others.>You are Bob's daughter/niece/cousin/sister/mother/wife and were bored.>Put your own muse to work too you lazy ass.
>>6422624I appreciate it. I was kind of drawing a blank today.>>You are Bob's daughter/niece/cousin/sister/mother/wife and were bored.Daughter. Continuing his work after his martyrdom, or whatever. Bob is the fairly straight man of the group so I'd suppose he wants a straight story. Also to bring him back to life, which from 'Flavia' might sound precious enough to convince people to join rather than smash her little dreams?I wonder how long Bob will be angry at Lady Lady. Until he gets his body back? Until she breaks down and cries? Or whatever reconciliations continue until morale improves. Hopefully love will conquer all.
>>6422835I've waited too long so I'll take this one.Dunno if update today but soon for sure.
>>They aren't ready for this. You'll need a new name and story. A monkey wrench is thrown into the cogs of your brain, you feel it keenly like a needle piercing your thumb. The Goddess you’ve been traveling far and wide to protect, the miracle for whom you’ve dared cast aside your fears, almost sacrificed herself to make youcute.Goddess: Do you like it?Your eyes feel like stones as you desperately try to convince yourself that you are taking part in a grand design or scheme of sorts. This cabin that the scammer has lent you, in which you’ve slept two times at most, lacks a mirror and the window that is reflecting you is too tarnished, but you’ll make do. You snatch the pillow behind you and bury your small arm in a hole behind it, then struggle digging as both the Scammer and the Goddess blink and share looks. But then your fingers hit something that you dig out, and it’s the sheathed, trusty dagger that you keep polished and oiled. As you stretch your arms far from your body to unsheathe it, you find your fingers trembling. …It makes you… sad, even angry, that the angel in the dagger had to end up stuck with you. While her golden hair, your hair, is naturally disheveled right now, it is clear that the Goddess crafted this face after her own vibrant image. Which could be a problem. But what you see is something different. Firmly sheathing the dagger, you make a truly sacred, silent vow to protect that little girl from the world, as if she was your own…Bob the Cleric: Daughter. I’m Bob’s daughter, whose mission is to continue his work. To bring him back to life.You shoot straight stares at the Scammer and Goddess both, making sure they got the message.Flavia the Cleric: And my name is Flavia.Adora: And my name is Adora!You look plainly at the Goddess, now Adora the Goddess of Innocence. Oh well. Stealing the spotlight is what she does. What she has to do.Scammer: You having a name, eeeeh, I dunno, man…Adora: You ‘dunno’ what?Scammer: Weeell, the whole ‘Goddess’ thing lets people imagine you however they want. If everyone fills the gaps with what they like then everyone will like you.Adora bites her lower lip.Adora: But I’m great.Scammer: Yeaaaaaah, but ‘great’ is subjective… fine, sheesh, I get it.Adora: Get out. I have to do Bob.Scammer: That sounds like a million times worse now. Bob, do your job.Flavia the Cleric: It’s Flavia. Flavia. And, Goddess… Adora; you shouldn’t say that.
Flavia the Cleric: Ouch!It hurts. What Adora meant by ‘doing you’ was something you couldn’t have imagined yet: braiding and combing your hair.Adora: Mu-huhu-huhuu!!If anything, you are learning sympathy towards the fairer sex, the longer their hair. You are standing near the door while the Goddess is sitting on the bed behind you. The pressure you feel on your nape as the comb goes down your hair is strong, and almost annoying when it gets stuck on tangled strands.Flavia the Cleric: Goddess, If this body is already your masterwork, then why… auauaua… why even perfect it?Adora: Because it’s not enough. Everyone should think that you care about what they see. That your presence there is a gift.Flavia the Cleric: My ‘gift’ is doing the work. My duty on behalf of the Church.Adora: Well now your sacred duty to the Church is also to look pretty and that’s that.You are going to have so much fun brainstorming ways of getting back to the Scammer.Adora: Turn around.You do- only to whimper as the Goddess gushes all over you.Adora: No, no, no, you look TOO ADORAble aaaaaaaa help meee!!You don’t know how to react as she hugs and shakes you. In your mind, you are still that firm old oak, of rugged skin and wrinkles, wearing violet bags under your eyes, who loves nothing more than making furniture and taking a fat shit in a cold morning.Back then, nobody hugged you like this.
Adora: Ok stand still.Blankly is how you face your Goddess as she works on your fringe and bangs. Surprisingly, it’s now you who is somewhat amused by the face Adora can make the rarest of times that she’s focused.Adora: Hehe, you are starting to get it.Flavia the Cleric: What?Adora: You look super cute smiling like that.You close your eyes: this is too much. From the depths of your heart, however, your resolve manages to reach you again: if this is the duty that your Goddess bestows upon you, then so be it. It is in doing the holy work, you decide, that you are Bob. The rest is ephemeral.Adora: I’m too good at this. Ok, be right back.You watch the Goddess sink into the wall. In mere seconds, she is back. That sentence had never been this literal.Adora: Ok, time for your bath.The Goddess of Innocence drops a bucket on the floor; you feel your stomach sink as she kneels next to you with a spongebut you stop paying your belly any heed the moment Adora starts tugging at the white shirt that is all you are wearing.
Flavia the Cleric: What! Goddess- Adora! Stop!Adora: No, you are too sweaty.Flavia the Cleric: I can handle this myself!Adora: No, you’ll get the hair all wet.Panicking, you scramble for reasons to resist your Goddess, surprised by her insistence. If this is her commandment, then it would be heresy to resist. But- what if she’s being affected by the prayers of those who think her the Goddess of Lust? And yet, then again- isn’t this just another act of innocence? Amidst the tempest of thoughts, you find the eye of the storm as you, with this new, frail form, sink your teeth in divinity’s hand.Adora: a-!Your rationale was simple: this isn’t about you. So, this isn’t about your duty. This is about protecting the modesty of this young girl, Flavia, who has nothing to do with this. You will simply do as usual: follow the ethics of the Wet Book. As the Goddess shakes her hand and whimpers, you take a deep breath to help your little lungs.Flavia the Cleric: Go away! I could and can take baths on my own. That hasn’t changed.Adora puffs her cheek.Adora: But I want the perfect body I made-a!You push her to the door with complete disregard as you snatch the sponge from her faintly flickering hand, then slam it shut.Flavia the Cleric: And no peeking through the damn walls!Your voice couldn’t sound any less threatening if you tried now, so you pray Adora still remembers how it was. Once alone, you find yourself almost feeling disgust, only for the thought to be swallowed back inside. At this point, you don’t care if the Goddess understands or not so long as she stays in line.Flavia the Cleric: …You look at the sponge.……..........................You couldn’t quite do it correctly. Simply feeling your own body felt wrong already, so even thinking about looking at it got you blushing. Naked, shaking, dripping, and in utter darkness as your eyes remained shut, you did nothing until you found a suitable passage in the Wet Book. The reasoning you derived from it goes as follows: if Flavia can’t do it on her own, then it’s only humane that you help her. It’s what nurses do for those who can’t take care of themselves.
As you skulk through the dark hallway, the hive of words guides you like a beacon. Once you step into the line that separates light from darkness, you peek, already engulfed by the chatter and ugly laughter and bad music. Wearing the oversized hooded robe you found neatly tucked inside your closet, you step into the hall that has been carved into the hullbecause the Church of the Goddess of Innocence is inside a pirate ship that has been repurposed as an open-air bar.Drunk Lizardman: This is not even worth arguing, skinny! If the beaver wants it too then who is anyone else to take issue?Except for a single floor below, whatever depth this vessel had has been hacked away to make space for a single rectangular room. You throw your neck back. Far above, now even further, half of the deck of the ship that is also the ceiling had been chopped away to let the starry sky in, right on top of the stacked, decorated circular bar at the very back, the heart of your Church. You look around. Instead of walls, three rows of hallways surround the main courtyard where the tables and seats and souls are, with ropes for railing. Some chandeliers crudely hang from above as if suspended by magic, but you know that they aren’t because one time one fell on you.Orc Waitress: So what can I getcha?Gnome Wizard: Punch me in the face real hard!Counting the patrons to see how the Church is doing as usual, you don’t fail to notice that the few stares that stumbled upon your direction stuck, so you keep moving. While this stranded ship was intended as a temple at first, travellers and guests both kept assuming that the Church of the Goddess of Innocence was a thematic pirate tavern, and so eventually even actual pirates took a liking to it. Then the Goddess made friends with a parrot. As you expected, your fellow Scammer wasted not a breath to bank on this perception, so now it’s hard to say whether the Church thrives thanks to the donations of its followers or because we haven’t been scammed yet on the quality of the counterfeit booze.Flavia the Cleric: …You feel overwhelmed by how tall everything is now. It reminds you of that time you let that girl ride you around like a horse, and how badly you scraped your knees back then. How quickly the tide changes: it makes you feel nostalgic. So nostalgic that the harrowing silence takes you by surprise, that you only take notice of it when the people looking straight at you now amount to the entirety.
The whispers start slashing at you like far mosquitoes.Orc Fanatic: …is that the Goddess?Halfling Bard: Look, you idiot!Ogre Rogue: …cute.Besides the hooded robe, your garment came with many accessories like bracers and a necklace, and a diadem in the shape of branches. You don’t know how any of them look on you, or even if you are wearing them correctly. Suddenly in the spotlight, such matters grow far more important than you expected, and so you find yourself trying to hide inside your clothing.Adora: Behoooold everyone! Our new Bob!It's like the object of your faith just exploded into existence beside you to grab your hand and lift it. But that sentence… didn’t help with the whispers. Helplessly is how you glance at the Goddess, sheepishly is how she laughs at you. But then she realizes with a blank ‘oh’.Adora: Our new Bob because she will take over for Bob and do what Bob did, because she’s Bob’s daughter. Meet Flavia, everyone!The crowd doesn’t know whether to cheer, clap, go ‘wow’ or laugh, so they do everything. Considering the Goddess you are affiliated with there was no way to avoid this. But damn… your nerves…Human Gambler: THE Bob was getting it on? But who is the mother?Tall She-orc Priest: Where has she been all this time?Human Waiter: Why is such a sweet little rose in this den in the first place?Adora: Hey!Human Waiter: No offense.She-goblin Barbarian Berserker: Hey honey! What do you do for fun? What’s your hobbies?Ogre Ninja: Do you have any friends? Are you lonely?The questions of the customers and followers (and those who are both) keep piling up and becoming louder. Among the supporters of the Church (or at least the bar) you spot both Lady Lady, who is chewing, and the Scammer, who is making faces at you from which you can’t draw either sense or meaning. But at least one point comes across. It becomes… glaringly apparent, that you are perceived as a frail maiden in their eyes. So… how do frail maidens act?>How do you answer? (ALL):>>Who is your mother?>>Where have you been?>>What do you like to do?>>Do you have friends?>This is a nightmare. (Pick one)>>Act all cutesy.>>Go fuck yourself.>>Write In.>What now… (Pick one)>>Visit Lady Lady.>>Ask the Scammer what’s what.>>Ask Adora about new prayers.>>Visit the Quest Board. It’s been two weeks.>>Announce a campaign to gather more followers.>>Give a speech.>>Write In.
>>6423380>>Who is your mother?My mother was a kind woman - a miller's daughter - that liked sweet treats of sugar and drawings of happy sheep.>>Where have you been?Reading the Wet Book and praying to Adora until she found me and I could continue the work of Bob.>>What do you like to do?I like it when people and animals are laughing and happy. I want to see the sheep as happy as my mother used to draw them.>>Do you have friends?You are my friends, all of you. Some of you just don't know it yet. >>Write In.Depending on circumstances and questions, alternate between cutesy and innocent (try to be inspired by the girl that visited the windmill and turned the scammers heart) on the one hand and a decent amount of Bob on the other hand. >>Give a speech.Give a speech about innocence and purity, about playfulness and abundance. Try to twist the scammers branding of Adora to a more appropriate one, like >>6421962 suggested a few days ago.>>6422338>>6422835Sorry for not helping with the background story, I had a couple of rather busy days and no muse came by to inspire me either. I'm happy with what we got, though.
>>6423558>SupportGoddess of Innocence, abundance and Festivity. A Dionysus/Bacchus figure. To free them from self-conscious fear, to subvert the oppressions of the powerful. The 'Temple' being a former pirate ship and now an almost pirate themed tavern seem like it would lean well into some of that.Np my dude, I think its all coming together. Bit by bit as the muses provide.
>>6423558>I had a couple of rather busy days and no muse came by to inspire me either.I'm a greedy QM, so don't feel bad. In fact, I'm feeling quite pampered already.>Reading the Wet BookKeep in mind that the Wet Book exists for like a month and a week at most. You can still say that though, but it maaay not be enough.>alternate between cutesy and innocentFair warning, this may take constant wisdom rolls. If you take just one or the other then it's just charisma because there's no need to discern. The consequence for failing this would be acting cutesy of bobsy with poor criteria.>Give a speech about innocence and purity, about playfulness and abundance.I'll dare ask you to be just a bit more concrete. What is it that you want to say about innocence and purity and playfulness and abundance? That they are good, for example?>>6423566I see, so kinda the theme with >>6421962 .I'll give this one some more time in case anyone else wants to pitch in.
>>6423596Flavia was either on some farm, or I suppose Bob's Nature skill could also cover fishing, except shes clearly not tan and her hands aren't callused to hell. Could have been on a boat sitting pretty, hearing all the ship speak so Flavia can talk as mean as a sailor. Bob could probably use the release of all this pent up frustration anyways, I believe they would call this gap-moe.>>Go fuck yourself.Okay, yeah, I would rather just take the cha roll than a bunch of wisdom (-4)No rush then
Hmmm it's been a day. I could just go with >>6423596 and roll for wheter Bob alternates or not. If calling for rolls takes another day then the pacing will be wrecked. I'll give this like an hour more cuz I wanna write.
>>6424288If it does end up with the wisdom rolls would someone be able to tell Flavia who is who and what approach to take with them during introductions?Lady Lady be the highest wisdom character in our circle? Or Scammer by knowledge of presumably knowing most of the patrons.
Rolled 1 (1d2)>>6424302Bob already knows many of then, but Flavia could get some help if and when she'a planning to introduce herself to someone new. If someone introduces itself to her, however, it would be a wis roll. The Church is, besides a church, just like any other bar at this point, so odds are that there are people there nobody knows.As for Lady Lady, Flavia has just met her. The Scammer may seem wise, yet there's the question if an asshole can ever truly be considered such.I'll just call it, then. 1: wis rolls. 2: full Bob.
lawl wis rolls it is, and since the idea was to alternate we are going do to one for each thing. If a roll is good, then Flavia nails the proper tone, if it isn't then cringe it is.Soroll me 7 wis rolls. 10 to win each (after that -4 lmao). I know that the prompts are 6.
Rolled 1, 8, 9, 3, 1, 9, 4 = 35 (7d20)>>6424330Here goes nothing
jesus fucking christ
Well, just roll me 1 char for the whole thing anyway. 10 for 'success' or whatever that may mean at this point lmfao
Rolled 8 (1d20)>>6424365I am strongly inclined to not want to roll again
Ahh, forgot to reply on Saturday and didn't check on Sunday. Since the wis rolls already had our-4 factored in, I assume the cha roll had our +3 already factored in? If so: holy shit, we're really good at fucking things up!
>>6425086>Since the wis rolls already had our-4 factored in, I assume the cha roll had our +3 already factored in?Yup!>If so: holy shit, we're really good at fucking things up!Also yes. This amount of fuckery required careful attention, so I decided to take my time with it since the quest got too quiet anyway. But tomorrow for sure.
I'm having a hard time just sitting and writing, so I'm afraid I'm gonna have to can this one out for the time being. Thank you guys for reading so far, but it looks like I'm just incapable of writing to relax.That being said, reviving this later is not out of the question. It's just that too much shit piled up too quickly.
>>6425452Unfortunate, but understandable. Thanks for running and giving us a heads up, anon. Hope you come back to it eventually!
>>6425452Rest well, QM.
>>6425452I feel you, I'm glad we had a lot of fun. Good luck and stay away from any beavers.
>>6425452Alright. Thanks for running! It was pretty fun while it lasted and I'd be happy if you eventually came back to it. Adora vult!
Cock
Balls
Beavers
