#2012

[In celebration of my recent wedding to a fellow party member, our great DM in the Sky came up with a wedding one-shot. Details (albeit scant ones) below; we spent the session alternately laughing hysterically and gagging at how gross the villain was. Our DM could hardly stand to play him!]

At the start of the session, the party was exploring the Lunanovan solstice festival. Upon hearing people in the crowd screaming “basilisk!”, Remr took off into the crowd and found the sorceress Serafina sitting with Eli the basilisk. She sat with them for a while, feeding Eli bits of raw meat provided by Serafina, until it was time to attend the royal feast. At the feast, Remr was seated next to a human man who seemed to be charming everyone around him. He struck up conversation with Remr, saying he was familiar with her family and asking after her sisters and mother. He was apparently very rich and lord of some fancy sounding place (he had a sleezy French accent, of course). Before he left for the evening, he gave her his card, which included a small personal sending stone in case she wanted to keep in touch. It was all very slimy, and we’ll refer to him from now on as Fuckboy. (I should note that Serafina was at the party and seemed very perturbed by this; I hope it’s because she likes Remr and not because she wanted Fuckboy’s number.)

After Fuckboy left, Remr got slightly tipsy and eventually had to be escorted out to the balcony by Never after changing all the toothpicks on the banquet tables into tiny snakes. Once there, Never noticed a strange cloudfront looming in. Then an even stranger black cloud rushed past them and when they looked again, Remr had vanished. Mild panic ensued. In the course of figuring out who had kidnapped Remr (spoiler alert, it was Fuckboy!) and where he had taken her (his private island, gross) thanks to his bitchy sister, whom they managed to capture, the party had to search Remr’s room to find a map to the island and her feather token.

Let me take a moment to share my description of Remr’s room. This is what my party had to deal with:

“The door opens on a room that looks like someone has inhabited it for years, not mere months. Piles of books and parchments litter the floor and most surfaces. Any spaces not covered by research materials are covered by other odds and ends – melted candles, bits of charcoal, half-finished cups of coffee, weird collections of objects that look like tiny scientific experiments, etcetera. The bed has been stripped of blankets and its sheets are covered in ink and charcoal stains. On one wall is covered in, to quote our DM, some sort of “crazed chalk Illuminati drawing”, the kind with red string connecting different pictures and points on a map. Several somethings can also be heard skittering among the piles of mess.”

The party was understandably horrified and may stage an intervention in the future.

MEANWHILE, Remr found herself transported to a chateaux on an unfamiliar island. Fuckboy explained there that he likes “conquesting” women, which apparently involves kidnapping (though he said kidnapping is a “strong word”) them and forcing them to marry him. Setup for Remr’s wedding was already underway. Thus followed a rather emphatic argument, with Remr yelling about how she was definitely NOT GOING TO MARRY HIM because EWW and also SHE’S HELLA QUEER and Fuckboy explaining that she didn’t really have a say in it. He then locked her in a tower and sent two handmaidens to dress her. It’s very hard to forcibly dress a seven foot tiefling, though, and Remr was having none of it. Eventually Fuckboy had to cast Paralysis on her so the handmaidens could finish their work. Boo.

At this point the party, lead by Never, arrived on Bao’ru and snuck into the chateaux. They broke into the tower and faced off against Fuckboy and some guards while Remr tore off the dress (and was subsequently half-naked for the rest of the session). Her rescuers won, of course, because YAY NEVER! and everyone escaped on Bao’ru with an unconscious Fuckboy in tow. Upon arrival they tossed him in the dungeon with his aforementioned bitchy sister and agreed to basically forget they existed. Our heroes then retired to bed – with two exceptions.

Never snuck back down into the dungeons with the intent of getting in Fuckboy’s face one last time. Unbeknownst to them, Remr was also heading down to the dungeons. She heard their voice as she came down the stairs and paused to hear what they were saying. In fact, she just so happened to hear Never angrily defending her to Fuckboy and calling her a “very good tiefling.” Considering Never usually seems completely exasperated with Remr, she was overjoyed to catch that admission.

Remr hid as Never came back up the stairs, then made her way down to Fuckboy’s cell. After a little crowing about how she and Never are best friends, she then proceeded to do what she originally planned – throw firecrackers at Fuckboy and his bitchy sister.

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#2006

Please find enclosed the most recent DnD shenanigans of my gay-ass tiefling Remr:

  • Having traded most of her weird specimens and loot for actually useful items, Remr found herself in a quandary. There’s someone she wants to romance, but they’re kind of odd and she wants to give them something special. Therefore, when the party’s halfling decided to go shake down criminals for a little fast cash after a (failed) assassination attempt at the Big Bad’s fancy ball, Remr decided to tag along. Still in her ballgown. 
  • She looted some opium from the first confrontation, but never got anything else because after that she cast the Sticks into Snakes spell (she thought a snake would add to their threatening mystique) and everyone was so afraid of the tiefling in a torn ballgown carrying a giant snake that they ran away at the sight of her. Disappointed, she set the snake free (it immediately slithered into the nearest house, causing a small panic) and everyone retired to the local tavern to get hella drunk.
  • She accepted a free CD called the CD of Dark Souls from a creepy masked lady in an alley outside the tavern. She’s hoping her crush might find it interesting.
  • Later on, the party was accosted by a frantic sheep clutching a piece of parchment in its mouth. Since Remr is all interest and zero caution, she immediately read the paper, which happened to be a spell to talk with animals. The sheep then explained that it was a wizard who had been betrayed by his apprentice and needed to get his house and human form back. He said he was very wealthy, so Remr made a deal with him: the party would help him defeat his apprentice, and in return each person would be able to take one thing from his house. Again, Remr was focused on the chance to get some epic and preferably weird loot. 
  • After defeating some other humans-turned-animals sent by the apprentice (from one of which she looted some grizzly bear claws for a possible necklace), the party (sheep wizard included) managed to sneak near the wizard’s tower. It’s important that I note here the location and form of the tower. Located in the Dark Woods outside the city, the tower was made of the trunks and branches of four gigantic live oak trees. It was comprised of three separate platforms and was, in general, pretty cool. 
  • While their half-elf played the role of traveling missionary to distract the apprentice, the rest of the party broke into his study. When he returned (seriously considering converting to the half-elf’s moon-based religion), they captured him and attempted to get the two wizards to reconcile. This is known in some circles as “Dr. Phil-ing it”. It worked, miraculously, and the apprentice agreed to return the wizard to his original form. However, the wizard’s wand had been severely altered by the apprentice and when he attempted the spell, it… did not go well. The wizard was turned from a sheep into a blob of flesh. A very dead blob of flesh. 
  • At this point the apprentice, horrified by what he had done, said he would go to the closest temple to convert and atone for him sins. Before he left, however, Remr reminded him of the deal struck with the wizard; they had, after all, helped him get his home back and reconcile with his apprentice. Rather numbed with guilt, shock, and horror, the apprentice told them to take whatever they wanted and left. Remr therefore claimed the treehouse itself as her one piece of loot (and also some “dank ass” lab equipment). 
  • And that is how the party gained a cool Dark Woods headquarters in a random one shot about a sheep wizard. 
  • Out of context quote: “Would you mind if I possibly turn your entire house into snakes?”

#1995

[The scene opens on the interior of a dim tavern, the name of which – Dragoneye Charlie’s – is painted above the bar in passably readable script. Judging by the dark windows and sparse remaining crowd, it’s nearly closing time. Only the regulars linger still, scattered among the bare wood tables and ill-lit corners, and even most of them have stopped ordering refills. Dragoneye Charlie himself stands behind the counter, idly polishing shot glasses as he keeps an eye on the two patrons still drinking at the bar. Despite their size, the tiefling and half-orc seem considerably tipsy. The tiefling, Remr, leans her elbows on the counter as Brutus, the half-orc, fights to keep his tears to a manly, albeit heartbroken, minimum. It is clear they have been here for a while.]

Brutus: I thought he was the one, okay? Like, deep down I knew he didn’t want anything serious, but I guess I thought it would be different with me, you know?

Remr [grimacing]: Oh, I know. And it’s never different. They’ll always leave you high and dry like a fuckin’… [she snaps her fingers] a fuckin’…

Brutus: Desert?

Remr: YEAH. Like a fuckin’ desert. Speaking of deserts, [she turns to Charlie and indicates their empty glasses] can I get another round over here?

[Dragoneye Charlie fills their glasses without comment.]

Brutus [staring into his glass]: I still have his yoga mat. Do you think I should let him know so he can come pick it up? It’s a nice mat. He probably wonders where it is. I should tell him.

Remr: No! Throw that thing away, man, like, just toss it. Make a clean break. It’s the only way you can move on. There are other fish in the sea. Other gay orc… fish. Like, so many, and you [she jabs Brutus’ chest with one finger to emphasize her point] could have any of them, because you are FABULOUS. No, wait, no, you know what? Forget about all those stupid fish. Dating’s for losers anyway. Who wants a person who’s, like, always around and supporting you and stuff? More time to discover miral… mircul… mir-AK-ulous scientific breakthroughs when you’re alone. [she chugs the remainder of her drink]

Brutus [confused]: I’m a baker.

Remr: Then more time to… I don’t know, invent better… pie. Hand pies. More time to invent better hand pies. [She holds out her empty glass to Charlie with a smile] More drink please!

Dragoneye Charlie [shaking his head]: I’m cutting you off.

Remr: But I’ve only had three!

Dragoneye Charlie: You’ve had six.

Remr [with much indignation]: …yeah, well… whatever, I’m a biologist, not a math-eh-muh-tician. Speaking of science, though, the process by which alcohol is fermented is fascinating on the molecular level, it really is. [she pulls a scrap of parchment and a piece of charcoal out of her pocket and starts drawing] You start with–

Brutus: Oookay. [he pats Remr’s shoulder with a giant hand] Let’s get you home.

Remr [blinking sleepily]: Oh. Okey doke. [she deposits a handful of coins on the bar and stands, or at least gets herself into a vertical position, albeit with a definite sway. Brutus, having weathered worse binges, hooks an arm around his companion and leads her out to the street with a minimal amount of wobbling. He deposits her at the door to her inn, where she revives a bit and slaps him on the shoulder in what she clearly intends to be a gesture of commiseration.]

Remr: Friendship’s all you need in life, buddy. Fuck that guy. Just you an’ me, it’s just you an’ me against the world. And science.

Brutus: Uh… thanks. [he pushes her toward the door] Get some sleep. And stop calling me in the middle of the night, okay?

Remr [attempting a combination of thumbs up and finger guns at the same time]: Call you in the middle of the night. Got it.

[She disappears through the door, just managing not to shut it on her tail. Brutus stares at the closed door for a second, contemplating how he got to this point in his life, then sighs and heads for his own home.]

#1991

[ The great DM in the sky told us to design masquerade outfits for our characters, so here is Remr being predictably nerdy and over the top. ]

“Companions, hello!” Remr hurried down the last few stairs to where her party waited and spun in a circle to show them her masquerade costume. Beneath her mask, she grinned with glee. “Get it?” The tiefling seemed very proud of her creation, and it was both easy and yet incredibly difficult to see why. On the one hand, her dress was clearly of very fine quality; black velvet, silk, and lace cascaded over the large black crinoline cage beneath, and at each bunching little jewels glimmered. Her mask, too, was of fine black lace and glittering jewels, and the raven feathers that framed it extended back to encompass her horns and wrap into her carefully spiked hair. On the other hand, though, the dress was also torn to shreds. The bodice was fine, neatly sewn and studded with rhinestones, but at her waist things seemed to have gone rather south. The front of the dress had been torn back completely, revealing the hoop skirt beneath. Its ragged edges tapered back to Remr’s sides, where the fabric devolved into a shredded mess that just brushed the floor. Likewise, Remr’s black sleeves and tights also sported tears halfway down and ended in unraveling strings. It was quite possibly the most expensive wreck any of them had ever seen.

Never and Tevasshus exchanged their usual Remr is being weird again look, but did not answer. Solena, still new to the group, smiled encouragingly yet waited for someone else to speak. Finally, Tarcella took the bait. “Get what? Did your dress lose a fight with a wolverine or something?”

“No, silly. I’m the concept of entropy!” Remr held out her arms as if a better display of the outfit might render further explanation unnecessary. She received only blank stares. Sighing, she lowered her arms. “I know what you’re thinking; this is way too oversimplified to really represent a complex thermodynamic system. I was worried about that. I almost went with a costume that represented the known universe using the mask as the sun and radiating outward and downward through the cloth of the dress based on the distances between objects in space, but I couldn’t get the calculations to accurately account for all the folds and pleats in the fabric. So I thought of this but then I wasn’t sure if people would understand that I was going for more of an artistic representation of the common understanding of entropy, you know, as in order versus disorder, versus the obviously more accurate and more recent understanding of entropy as it relates to quantum theory and statistical thermodynamics.” She frowned uncertainly. “Do you think anyone will call me on it?”

Silence. Blinking. More silence.

“Uh,” said Tarcella.

“…what the fuck,” said Never.

“I think you look great!” said Solena, despite having understood none of what Remr just explained.

“Oh good, thank you,” Remr, visibly relieved, hugged the cleric and then gestured toward the door with an excited grin. “Shall we be off, then?”

#1986

The following is an exchange that 100% happened between my DnD character (Remr, female tiefling) and my girlfriend’s character (Never, nonbinary dragonborn). Or maybe we were out of character. Or maybe even we aren’t sure. Anyway…

Remr: And the hot chick.

Never: [confused] Who’s the hot chick?

Remr: You know, [gestures vaguely] the hot chick. With the pointy teeth.

Never: …Aurora?

Remr: [snaps fingers] Yeah! The hot chick.

Never: She has a name.

Remr: Yeah, “hot chick”.

Never: [patience waning] You can’t just call them Hot Chick 3 and 7.

Remr: Well, no. [holds up a hand to start counting on her fingers] Hot Chick 3 would be–

Never: No, no, just stop. [holds hand out to silence her] There aren’t even 7.

Remr: [thoughtfully] Actually, if you count–

Never: STOP.

Remr: :)

Also, here are some other recent hijinks!

  • The team got to ride on an airship, where it was learned that Remr has a sailor hat Tarcella gave her when they were kids. Tarcella named Remr her second in command on the ship because she just so happened to have read the schematics for fun. Remr then took out the hat to wear it, but it didn’t really fit on her head so she just kinda hooked it on one of her horns.
  • Later on when the ship was crashing, Remr and Tarcella both fell out of the front windows and would have fallen to their deaths in the ocean, but were saved at the last minute by Bao’ru.
  • During a brief rest in the jungle, Remr spent her time collecting specimens of new or interesting bugs. At some point she ran out of containers to put them in, so she started stowing them in Never’s bags and then eventually just put them on the dragonborn themself for safekeeping.

#1981

Having defeated the second witch queen without a single scratch to any of the party, the companions returned to the capital city and rewarded themselves with a brief respite. The events leading up to the battle had been extremely taxing, both physically and emotionally, and they had all earned some downtime. Predictably, Remr’s concept of downtime meant spending her waking moments deep in the labyrinth of the castle’s library and records vault, exploring for the forgotten tidbits of knowledge which only a historian can truly appreciate. Had the rest of her party given it much thought, they might have found it odd that Remr hadn’t shown up even once to bore them with the fine details of something old and useless, but each was firmly entrenched in their own thoughts and could be forgiven the oversight.

For her part, Remr would barely even let herself acknowledge the lingering memories which nagged at her as she explored the musty vault. Each fragile, dusty scroll requiring dutiful analysis put another brick in the mental wall between the tiefling and the things she had thought, but never spoken, right before the battle began. She wasn’t Never, after all, who had a bard’s gift for persuasive words; nor was she Tarcella, whose speech may have been rough but carried the weight and power of a wounded heart. She was only Remr, skilled in the writing of academic papers and giving of long lectures, and she had known during the showdown in the ice palace that she should stay silent.

Still, it was difficult, even among the comfort of books and candlelight, not to imagine what she might have said, had she been braver – or perhaps more foolish. She sympathized with Gliss’ anger and grief, after all, and being inside the physical manifestation of the witch’s pain had touched her deeper than she cared to admit. I understand, she might have said. I know what it’s like to lose someone because they stop caring about you. It’s wretched. It made me want to hide too. You must have loved her very deeply. It probably wouldn’t have helped – they had already murdered Gliss’ sister, after all – but she had still felt compelled to say something. It’s not too late to move on, maybe. You’re a hot witch bitch with a palace, you can do better, or I could probably set you up with this weird elf chick I know, you might like her.


It was all moot anyway, of course. Her own ice pick had delivered the final blow to Gliss’ frozen heart. Was that ironic? Remr sighed, dislodging fifty years’ worth of dust from the clutter around her, and decided she didn’t care. Honestly, she’d love to take her ice pick to her own chest to chip out the cold little shard of jealousy buried there the past two days. At least Gliss had been unashamed to openly mourn the love she lost and still coveted. She was obsessed, yes, and most definitely evil, but brave nonetheless to bear her heart so openly.

#1980

I want to tell you all a story about my DnD character, Remr. So sit back, relax, and let me paint the scene for you.

It was my birthday, and the great DM in the sky had ruled there would be a haunted house one-shot for the occasion. Our characters – Remr the tiefling scientist, Never the dragonborn bard, Tevasshus the near-silent monk, and Tarcella the inebriated halfling pirate – had located said haunted house and were exploring its many floors in hopes of freeing the souls of two dead children. Remr and Tarcella took the lead in searching each dusty, gloomy room, Remr out of pure enthusiasm and Tarcella because her hangover (and desire for loot) dulled her sense of fear. Never and Tevasshus followed behind at a cautious distance with weapons drawn.

Their search led them to the house’s basement, a labyrinth of long, dark passages cut into the stone foundation and echoing with an eerie chanting. Having already found strong evidence of cult activity and human sacrifice, not to mention a spectre and the clingy ghost children, the party moved cautiously. Even Remr, still in the lead, moved with uncharacteristic care as she poked her head into each corridor and empty room. Their relative luck thus far – Never had slain the only spectre in one hit – was making her cocky, though, and her mind was wandering to the scientific principles of the various undead subclasses as they approached the deepest and longest passage yet.

(Me: I check for traps.
DM: Go ahead and roll.
Me: *rolls* …never mind.)

Seeing no obvious enemies or obstacles, Remr stepped confidently over the threshold… …and broke through the false floor and into a pit trap. Despite the rotted nature of the wooden stakes, two still pierced her arm and leg and the others knocked the wind from her, broke several ribs, and left some spectacular bruises. Tarcella, quick thinking as always, pulled a coil of rope from her pack and tossed it down to Remr. Between Tarcella and Never (but mostly Never), the two pulled Remr out of the pit. She used a major healing potion to heal the wounds and was soon back to full health.

At this point, the party had to find an alternate way across the open trap. A small lip of stone remained between the wall and the edge of the drop, and it was this that the party would need to use. Tarcella, as the smallest and lightest, went first.

(Her: I’m going to inch my way around the trap.
DM: Roll for agility.
Her: *rolls* Shit.)

Despite her advantages, Tarcella slipped and fell into the pit. Thankfully, her size enabled her to fall between the stakes, where she sustained only minor damage. Grabbing the rope, Remr moved along the ledge to help her friend.

(Me: I’m going to go along the lip and toss the rope to Tarcella.
DM: Roll for agility.
Me: *rolls* ………motherfucker.)

Unfortunately, Remr slipped as well – and fell into the pit for the second time in like two minutes. While she didn’t injure herself nearly as badly as the first time, she did fall on top of Tarcella, which wasn’t great either. Never and Tevasshus, having shared a mighty eye roll, assisted the ladies out of the trap and everyone sang a nice rendition of “The Pit” from Parks and Rec before moving on.

The end.