“He’s the orkish butt pirate. Leaping from arse to arse. Yarrrrrrr.”
“Ha ha! Your village is being burned!”
“No, YOUR village is being burned!”
“Good thing I don’t have a village.”
“Or else it’d be burned too! Mwahahahaha!”
“Do you hear anything?”
“No. Do you?”
“Actually, I was talking to my mount.”
“Okay, so you both move to level 1 drunkenness...”
“He’s your brother. That means you get to deal with the fallout from the orkish drinking game.”
“...And then when I came back, the ork was in my bed.”
“Damn it, my sister has all the luck!”
“I’m not really unconscious. I’m more like waiting-for-her-to-go-back-to-bed-so-I-can-ravage-the-ork unconscious.”
“Just because my bedroll smells like ork, that’s automatically a bad thing?”
“Do your adventure notes include the phrase, ‘Ork ravaged in sleep by Amadeus?’”
“Can you swim?”
“Yeah. Probably.”
“That’s one session down without getting raped by the elf. I’d say today was a smashing success.”
“You can noob all day if you’d like to.”
“Alcohol is our friend...we get drunk, then we’re dead...tra la la...”
“Let’s zip up the elf and get going.”
“Well, nethermancers aren’t all warm and fuzzy bunny rabbits, either.”
“...’Cause if he’s not screaming, I bet you he’s eaten.”
“I forgot about your circle 5 warrior!”
“Oh, he’s one of the warriors I saw fighting the doo-dads!”
“I’m gonna get some t-skrang lovin’!”
“I disbelieve the caribou!”
“But I thought you liked having dead things on top of you!”
“Is the tiger absorbable?”
“You decide you should maybe do something about, oh, the BLEEDING PROFUSELY?”
“Congratulations! You killed a dead thing!”
“It’s just been a heroic day.”
“...And you ride off noobing into the sunset.”
“Click, squirt, gurgle, NOOB!”
“And we have a map on the back of the ork!”
“I call upon mad passion number...(roll roll)...TWELVE! I smite you!”
“So I’m a a t-skank now?”
“This is my lovin’ dice. It’s gonna get me in the sack.”
“Hey, he just felt up my hairy ork back!”
“Hey, we grossed out the troll!”
“I’m guessing that striking a frightened troll would be a bad idea...”
I try to convince Mike, who is meditating in an attempt to raise a talent, not to stop just to catch a krilworm for a pet:
“Let’s see here...raise talent, worm. Raise talent, worm.”
(indignant huff) “WORM!!”
“You have the power to command anything, and your first order is ‘suck my cock?’”
“I grab him.”
“You’ve already got both arms around her.”
“Okay, I grow a third arm!”
“Well, I didn’t dislike it, I just didn’t like it. And I didn’t not like it in a negative way—I not liked it in a neutral way.”
“He really says, ‘Hello, stupid bug?’”
“We found ork!”
Spoken in a truly disturbing “phone sex voice”:
“Talk Hannibal Lecter to me, Mike!”
“Can I say a prayer to the Passion of luck?”
“I don’t think there is one.”
“Well, can I invent one?”
“You’re hideously ugly. I can see the...sprongs...coming out of your...okay, I got nothin’.”
“If anyone asks me what happened to my hand, I tell them I was in a freak masturbation accident.”
“He bites, and I’m his daddy.”
“Can I make a cage?”
“Well, what’s your artisan skill?”
“Um...embroidery.”
“Why am I rolling dexterity?”
“Because you have a krilworm in your pants.”
I still don’t see why this is funny...oh well:
“Roll tents.”
“What did you do, eat her finger?”
(pause) “Yes.”
“Did he really eat your finger?”
“No, it was Pookie!”
“Who’s Pookie?”
“The krilworm!”
“Damn, I should’ve named it Nobody!”
“You guys are like the Krilworm Backup System.”
“The troll isn’t paying much attention to you.”
“Can I kick him?”
“Beth, what are you doing?”
“Um...I’m lying on the ground unconscious?”
“I’d like to add some karma to the taunt...”
“Oh, the orkish angst!”
“Damn it, why can’t nethermancers have puppy dogs?!”
Who I Am: Valeris Skyblood, an orkish air sailor
Who Else Is There: Amadeus, a homosexual elvish nethermancer with an ork fetish (Mike). Kadutse, a human swordmaster with a burning hatred of plants (Rachel). Katryn, an elvish archer and Amadius’ sister (Anne). T’ruig, a t’skrang cavalryman (Missy). GM: Noel.
The Story So Far: Can be read here...