Fourth Dungeon! A Disaster of Journeying!

Dungeon Master: Players, we now must leave the town of Naplyville.

Pilchard: Already?

Plummet: Wait! I didn't commit any shopping of clothes or laundrying!

Dungeon Master: Don't worry, it's accomplished. Just mark appropriate funds as spent on the sheet of your character. All characters should expend funds, in fact for any supplies you wish on the quest to Braddlebrick Bay. Then it's journeyful time! Three sessions of carts and towns is enough. More would be a failure of epic!

Helsa: Clarify, please! Do you mean a failure that is epical in scale? Or a failure to produce adventures properly epic?

Dungeon Master: The second. Much longer in Naplyville and the game must change from Dungeoning and Dragoning to Towning and Taverning.

Pilchard: Hmm. Rations are 5 pieces of silver for 2 pounds, says the list of equippage. Also, it says to see the Rules Glossary for "malnutrition." Let's flip there. Okay, one pound of food per day, or we'll be malnutritioning into exhausted after five days. There's more complexity than that, but basically, it's important to eat.

Plummet: It sure is! This game has more realism than expected.

Grolka: An orc of the barbaric sort probably needs additional food, I think.

Helsa: A hermitly ranger should be able to fast more extensively, I opine.

Pilchard: There are saves of Constitution if you'd like to try it. My preference is to buy enough food. It's 10 pounds of rations for 25 silvers, so I'm buying that.

Plummet: Tasty bacon was only one copper piece each slice, though! I wonder if a large bag of bacon would be superior to rations.

Grolka: Seems like you should check the scores of Intelligence and Wisdom on your sheet before carrying enormous supplies of spoilable bacon in place of rations.

Plummet: Um, I think my character's scores are superior to my real scores, since I don't know that.

Rouge: Let's perspect this differently, then. When we have bacon for real breakfast, how much overage is left for additional meals?

Plummet: Bacon is so delicious! There's never any left. So?

Rouge: So my prediction is, a bag full of bacon would be eaten with speed. Then our mage complains of aching tummy and has no food for the trip's majority.

Plummet: I guess that does sound right. More realism appears! I will buy rations.

Dungeon Master: Everyone mark them on sheets, then the travels begin.

Pilchard: Done.

Plummet: Me too! And there was clothes buying. Also laundrying.

Grolka: Marked.

Helsa: Similarly.
Rouge: Ready for some road hitting!

Bingly: Hopefully, not in a cart full of turnip smell.

Dungeon Master: No. A caravan for trading has been in town and departs for eastward as you are ready to leave.

Pilchard: Must we pay to join it?

Dungeon Master: When they learn of your adventuresome profession, they let you ride without charge -- if you promise defending the caravan in case of burglarous attacks, or those of monstrosities.

Pilchard: Seems fair.

Grolka: Bring the bandits! Also, I will mangle the monstrosities.

Helsa: I express agreement as well, but with less confidence. My memory of nearly expiring from needlesome blights ... still vivid!

Dungeon Master: Very well, then travel begins. Your wagon driver is a young woman called Milvicent Ox-Reiner. She is talkative in extreme, if anyone sits with her upon the front bench.

Rouge: Is she attractive, as well as talkative?

Dungeon Master: 12 out of 18, according to my dice.

Rouge: Seems unexciting compared to the blond barfer of Naplyville. I pass.

Bingly: Is she interested in octopuses? If so, I will show her mine and converse on with a great extent.

Dungeon Master: Her response ... not very enthusiastic. Possibly some "ewww" or "put that away" remarks.

Plummet: "That's what she said!" Haha!

Grolka: Ahem.

Bingly: I can discuss merchantry with her instead, then, since that profession is my background.

Dungeon Master: Her interest is mildly greater. Now ... the die of random encounters for today! Is there one? Yes! It's a 6!

Plummet: Great, so we're already expected to work with defense of the wagons?

Dungeon Master: No, because the randomized encounter is ... a roc!

Plummet: A rock? Aren't we seeing a lot of those whether the die says 6 or not?

Helsa: I believe it a roc of the sort with no "k."

Bingly: Hmm. If "crab with a k" is fake crab, then a rock with no k is a real rock?

Dungeon Master: It is the fabulous kind of roc.

Helsa: Meaning "from a fable," before anyone can lead us farther astray into wordplay.

Dungeon Master: Correct! 50 experience points!

Helsa: Thank you.

Dungeon Master: SWOOP!!! On the driving bench, Bingly sees a moment of enormous and feathery shadow! Then: everyone aboard the wagon feels the lurching of titanic strength -- the whole wagon is torn from earth and yanked talon-wise into the sky!

Pilchard: This doesn't sound super-great.

Plummet: For me, it's very exciting! Remember, I excel at spelling with Feather Fall.

Rouge: I feel familiarity here. Did I see this in an anime of recent?

Dungeon Master: Yes! 20 experience points for recognizing my Dungeon Masterly thievingness.

Plummet: I don't think we can solve it equally to the anime, though. My Feather Falling won't assist a wagon to the ground.

Bingly: How speedily are we rising?

Dungeon Master: Very! Each round, 120 feet!

Plummet: Uh-oh. It's also true my spell won't help in a fall too excessive.

Grolka: More important: is our party too excessive for the spell? Six characters must fall featherly, or someone will splat.

Helsa: Seven, if we count our driver.
Plummet: Well ... the book says it works for five.

Rouge: We are screwed -- and in a manner I do not like my screwing to happen!

Bingly: You can cast more than one though, can't you?

Plummet: Um, maybe? I have several slots for spelling.

Pilchard: Look: duration, 1 minute. There's no mention of Concentrate. Five could jump out, you cast a spell, then repeat for the two last ones.

Plummet: I guess it's workable.

Grolka: Only with hastiness! Dungeon Master, how long have we already expended for planning?

Dungeon Master: Look -- a timer on my phone. Excellent preparation, yes? I feel my Dungeon Mastery leveling up. 

Pilchard: That says it's already a minute wasted talking?

Dungeon Master: Yes. 10 rounds, 1200 feet.

Plummet: Oh. Way more than my spell will assist with.

Grolka: During a fall, can you cast again?

Dungeon Master: Challenging! It will need a roll to avoid fall-fearing interfering with Feather Falling.

Plummet: Plus, targets must be 60 feet or closer to me.

Helsa: There appears to be hazard aplenty in such a plan, if farther than 600 feet from the ground.

Bingly: By the way, is there access from wagon bench to inside the wagon? I feel exposed to the gaze of a possibly hungry roc.

Dungeon Master: Don't worry. It has beaked one of your oxen and occasionally takes bites from the dangling carcass. Seems not to be paying attention to you. But yes, there is only a curtain or flap between wagon bench and wagon interior.

Bingly: I proceed through this flap. The driver is invited too.

Dungeon Master: The driver proceeded already, as soon as seeing the roc. That's one way you know the flap is there.

Bingly: Seems like this narration would have helped me act more quickly.

Dungeon Master: Sorry. Minus 20 Dungeon Master experience points.

Pilchard: We should plan for escaping this roc. Is it still speeding us upward?

Dungeon Master: No one is outside any more to observe.

Pilchard: I look outside through the flap.

Dungeon Master: The path of the roc appears level now. In the distance ahead you see a region very mountainous and rocky.

Helsa: To be clear, this is rocky territory with a k, not roc-y territory full of rocs?

Dungeon Master: The first. Only one roc visible at present.

Pilchard: I think we must wait for our roc to near the ground by less than 600 feet, then have five jumpers exit and get spelled, then all remainers exit with my sibling and get spelled as well.

Plummet: What if this happens only after arriving in mountains? It's not so good if we land but only atop an unclimbable peak -- especially a snowy one! Brrr!

Helsa: Hopefully let's not jump toward a peak.

Bingly: How snowy are the peaks, Pilchard? Do you see?

Dungeon Master: The scribely mage sees some nearer ones not so snowy, mostly rock. Farther there are peaks very snowy and glaciered.

Pilchard: I repeat this to the wagon crew.

Plummet: Look for soft and flat and level ones!

Grolka: That would be ground, not mountains.

Helsa: Could be a plateau, though.

Dungeon Master: Fortune! My dice say there is a plateau. You will be over it soon.

Plummet: Yay! I prepare my spellings.

Grolka: Wait. How far above this plateau do we appear?

Dungeon Master: Someone roll 2d6. It's that many hundreds of feet.

Pilchard: I'm very poor at dicing in these situations.

Plummet: I'm scared to.

Grolka: When playing a barbaric orc, I must show bravery as well. My dice say ... 7.

Rouge: Ox-plop!

Bingly: How much damage is 100 feet of falling?

Dungeon Master: 10 dice of the 6-sided sort.

Plummet: I'm poor at math, but probably we would all die, right?

Grolka: Eh ... might be as little as 10 points, depending on rolls. But yes, probably.

Bingly: Let's consider a new plan. All characters jump holding hands. After some falling, Plummet spells at five of us. After some more falling, at the remainder.

Dungeon Master: This seems safer than casting during falling at other fallers. I'll permit it without saving rolls.

Pilchard: Anyone good with Nature? Possibly we should peer at this approaching plateau to see if it's the kind where hazardous beasts dwell.

Grolka: Specifically, beasts more hazardous than a roc.

Helsa: Although both rangerish and hermitish, I have unexceptional intelligence. My skill total is only 3.

Bingly: Really? Mine is five without either rangerness or hermitness.

Pilchard: Mine is six, and already I'm at the flap, so I guess I will look. 

Dungeon Master: First, a roll of Perceiving!

Pilchard: Oh. That total is 4.

Dungeon Master: So hazy and blurry, this plateau. You can't spy its nature.

Pilchard: Someone else want to look out the flap?

Helsa: I try, but Perceive with a 5.

Rouge: Does this game have spectacles? We need some.

Bingly: How about 15?

Dungeon Master: You view the plateau with reasonable quality of vision. Roll Nature.

Bingly: Aha! 24 in all.

Dungeon Master: I'll say five percent chance of things worse than rocs on this plateau. The dice of percentages show 64, so whatever is there improves upon rocs. More rolling ... you think the worst of them might be manticores.

Plummet: Oh! We've killed those before.

Grolka: In a different game.

Helsa: And with many sessions more of experience than in this game.

Bingly: I tell the others, "Nothing to worry about!" My logic is, if we have the luck to find a plateau and the luck to survive the fall, probably our luck won't produce manticores anyway.

Dungeon Master: Then if this is your plan, you should try it soon. Already, the plateau is under you, and not for tremendously prolonged.

Pilchard: I ensure my pack and belongings are secure!

Plummet: The same!

Grolka: Yes.

Helsa: I ask the driver, "Are there goods for eating in this wagon?" If it's a yes, we should take some, since who knows how long we'll need to trek across a plateau.

Dungeon Master: She says no, only lumber and lumbering tools.

Helsa: Then I prepare my pack as well.

Rouge: The same for me.

Bingly: And me. Are we ready?

Plummet: Yep! Let's go! And I don't need to roll anything?

Dungeon Master: Correct. But you do need to determine, who is the first group and who is the second?

Pilchard: I will stay with my sibling.

Plummet: Oh! Such a loyal brother!

Pilchard: Yes ... but also, if there's calculation mistake and the first spell happens above 600 feet, I want to be with the person who can cast multiple Feather Fallings.

Plummet: Well ... at least it's an honest brother.

Grolka: If the groups land apart, it's wise to have a strong battler in each. I can go with the Plume mages, unless our hermitly ranger desires to.

Helsa: It's also wise to have a healer in each, of which I am one. Do others have wound curing spells?
Plummet: Yes! From my Magic Initiating as a sage.

Grolka: Seems like that's a good division then.

Bingly: Ranger, thieving tiefling, and merchantly mage, plus driver first, followed by Plume mages and an orc?

Dungeon Master: Good. Are you jumping now?

Plummet: Wait! First I try recalling, how long does it take to fall 100 feet?

Dungeon Master: Hmm. There's no "Science" roll, but "Survival" says. "Avoid natural hazards." Roll that one, and it's a difficulty of major, because in times of dungeoning and dragoning, how much falling from 100 feet is there?

Pilchard: Not much, I think, except for mages who fall from flying or need to use Feather Falling, right? So could Arcana be used also?

Dungeon Master: You are exceptional with this logic! 40 experience points! Penny, you may roll Arcana instead if it's your preferable.

Plummet: Definitely! My total is 20!

Dungeon Master: You know, then. However, a low-level Dungeon Master confesses ignorance.

Pilchard: Gravity accelerates by 32 feet of speed each second, so 16 feet of falling in one second, 48 feet in the second second, 80 feet in the third second. So somewhere less than three seconds.

Plummet: Yikes! So speedy! After jumping, then, I count to three seconds before spelling at group 1.

Helsa: See you on the ground!

Bingly: Smart math by Pilchard.

Pilchard: Actually rusty physics knowledge by Pilchard's player. Some googling confirmed it, though. 

Rouge: Confirmed by google! It's a win, I think.

Pilchard: Ehhh, maybe not.

Plummet: Uh-oh. What is that look?

Pilchard: Feather Fall is spelled using a Reaction. But once your Reaction has finished, it's another round before you can Reaction again. So 3 seconds of counting plus one round equals 9 seconds before the next Reactioning, and google says that's over 1300 feet of falling.

Plummet: What!

Grolka: So we're dead?

Dungeon Master: Aha! It's 100 experience points for Pilchard being so honest -- BUT negative 100 for expressing poorer knowledge of rules than a low-experience Dungeon Master! A character can Reaction at any time in the round. Reactioning at 3 seconds of the first round means there are only 3 seconds until the second round begins, and a new Reaction is earned. So, it's only 6 seconds total of falling before the second spell is available.

Pilchard: So much embarrassment for missing that.

Grolka: How long have you been Dungeoning and Dragoning again?

Bingly: Longer than all the rest of us put together!

Dungeon Master: 1000 Dungeon Master experience points for this triumph of rule-knowing! My skill advances!

Plummet: Then we're not dead? That's more important to me than rule-dueling right now.

Dungeon Master: No deaths. Group 2 lands much sooner than group 1, because of group 1 reducing to 60 feet each round after only 100 feet. It's one minute for them to fall the rest of the way, but only 2 or 3 rounds for group 2 in all.

Pilchard: I guess we will just await their arriving.

Dungeon Master: OR! It is possible some monster observes your falling approach and meets you upon landing!

Plummet: I hope our luck isn't so deficient!

Grolka: I, also.

Dungeon Master: Five percent chance. The dice of percentaging read ... Hmm!

Pilchard: Seriously?

Plummet: OMG.

Helsa: I'm unable to see the dice from here -- Perception failure for me.

Rouge: 05 exactly.

Helsa: Seems like elusively low odds of happening!

Pilchard: One chance in 100. So ... what monster assaults us?

Plummet: Not a manticore, I hope!

Dungeon Master: My rolls say ... Goat!

Pilchard: Whew, not so bad, then.

Dungeon Master: Of the Giant kind! Now, a roll of even means one goat, odd means a pack.

Helsa: Terminologically, a herd.

Dungeon Master: Helsa is correct! 20 experience points, and it is a herd of Giant Goats.

Plummet: Wait, you didn't roll odd or even, though.

Dungeon Master: No need to roll when Helsa determined it.

Helsa: I detect subtle innuendo of "Helsa should stop correcting the Dungeon Master's terms."

Dungeon Master: No, I rewarded you with experience points! Possibly though you could pass a note instead of correcting interruptively.

Helsa: Apologies of the abject kind.

Dungeon Master: Haha, no, it's all joking!

Plummet: So there's not a herd?

Dungeon Master: There is a herd, because it's more amusing than if there's not, right?

Grolka: My opinion depends on whether we die from goat trampling.

Dungeon Master: Let's see, then. Roll initiative, group 2!

Pilchard: 15.

Plummet: 4.

Grolka: 19.

Dungeon Master: Goats initiate with 10. There are 3 goats in all. It's a small herd. Their distance from you is 45 feet.

Grolka: I prepare my battleaxe to attack any goat that comes aggressively near.

Pilchard: I cast Mage Armor upon myself. Also, I stand with the barbaric orc between me and the herd.

Dungeon Master: The goats are wary. They eye you with suspicion, but do nothing else. Penny?

Plummet: Ooh, I have an idea! How close are any of them to each other?

Dungeon Master: Hmm. Here is a die of the 8-sided sort. On 1-5, none are so close. 6 or 7, two are nearby one another. 8 means all 3 are cozy in spacing. The roll is 7.

Plummet: I cast Sleep on the two close by each other, then! They must Wisdom save with difficulty of 13 or have Incapacity for one round.

Dungeon Master: Let's see how wise goats are ... the book says, better than average! They roll ... 20 and 12. So, one has Incapacity. Barbarian?

Grolka: Still, I await any attack. 

Pilchard: I prepare to spell any charging goats with Witch Bolt.

Dungeon Master: The goats notice their herd-mate's appearance of lethargic. One nudges it in concern.

Plummet: Poop. I think that means the spell is interrupted. I will prepare to Sleep them again if they seem to attack.

Grolka: New round? Same as last round for me.

Pilchard: Identical.

Dungeon Master: Goats remain suspicious. I will roll a die. On 1, they calm and wander away. On 5, they spook and run. On 6, they startle and charge to attack! The roll is ... 1.

Pilchard: Whew!

Plummet: I'm relieved.

Grolka: It's fine, but a giant goat feast might have pleased a barbaric orc's appetite.

Dungeon Master: 50 experience points each for this goat encounter! A few rounds later, the members of group 2 float groundward.

Grolka: Greetings, slow companions. We have chased dangerous goats away for you, no thanks required.

Helsa: While falling for one minute, could I discern the features of our plateau?

Dungeon Master: Hmm. You were imperceptive before in the wagon ...

Helsa: Yes, but falling hundreds of feet could perhaps clarify my motive for focusing.

Dungeon Master: Make a roll of Perception, then.

Helsa: Ah! 17 this time. What are my observances?

Rouge: Goats. Didn't you hear?

Dungeon Master: To the east, a river, flowing north to south. You think maybe downstream of you there were signs of a village, or ruins. Farther beyond that, woods, and then the edge of the plateau. To the west, dry, barren flatness until the western cliffs. North are mountains; that's established. South looks swampy where the river flows back and forth in southern fashion, becoming canyonish after that. The canyon cuts into the south cliffs.

Pilchard: How far do we think our caravan might be?

Bingly: I'm guessing, far.

Dungeon Master: Yes. Around the table, it's not been so much time. But while flying in the clutches of a roc, maybe an hour or two passed. It's thinkable that 30 or 40 or even more miles were crossed.

Plummet: At least maybe we're closer to Braddlebrick Bay?

Dungeon Master: Someone can Survival roll to determine it.

Helsa: My skill is 4, but only 11 in total after my roll.

Grolka: Worse for a barbarian.

Plummet: Yikes! Those are our most naturely companions!

Bingly: As a merchant, I traveled by many wagons, so probably I have confidence in wagon-navigating.

Pilchard: Flying wagons?

Bingly: No, but how much different could there be? I roll a 12, but it's a 10 after my poor Wisdom addition.

Dungeon Master: Anyone else desire to try?

Pilchard: Yes, but by asking our driver. "This plateau," I ask her, "have you caravanned nearby it before?"

Plummet: Ooh, you are so smart!

Dungeon Master: Milvicent Ox-Reiner says, "Maybe? I have seen something like it far to the north when driving from Naplyville to Braddlebrick Bay. Possibly a day of eastwarding before it becomes visible, then two days before it is no longer in sight. To the east of it, the road goes a bit north before turning Braddlebrick Bay-ward."

Bingly: So, if we go east and can find a way down, we might even out-trek our train of wagons.

Dungeon Master: Some possibility ... but you will need to cross the river.

Pilchard: Shouldn't be too difficult to do so at a village.

Plummet: We should head there!

Helsa: The difficulty would increase if it's ruins, not a village.

Rouge: Ruins might have a bridge. Also, they might have treasure ...

Plummet: I am sagely interested in the ruins. They could have history!

Grolka: Sounds like we're going.

Dungeon Master: Someone must wilderness navigate for the group. Choose your leadership through this terrain!

Pilchard: My nomination is Helsa. She out-Survivals the rest of us in skill.

Plummet: I agree with my sibling. But I don't want to hurt the feelings of an orc! It's no insult, Grolka.

Grolka: Orcish feelings are not so weakly or bruise-able, especially not barbaric orc feelings.

Helsa: Well, if my navigation guides us ... the total is 11.

Dungeon Master: Not too bad. It's an easy task on a flat plateau, and the river is un-missable if you head east. Four hours of travel, and you are there.

Plummet: So is it ruins, or a village?

Dungeon Master: Ruins of a village. First, you begin to see road remainders here and there through the dry grass. Stones for a flat road, only broken and tilted or mostly buried. Looks like no one has traveled this way in many years. Eventually, the road reaches a bridge. It's stone too, but some parts have a more sturdy look than others. In places it might be crumbly. Across it is a village of many stone buildings and houses, but mostly even worse in condition than the bridge. However, at the town center there is a tall tower -- very intact! Creepily, though, it is made of black stone.

Pilchard: We're here just for the bridge, right? No need to detour with a creepy black tower.

Plummet: What? I thought my brother had great curiosity and interest in things of magic!

Pilchard: Greater curiosity about the kinds the Dungeon Master is not calling "creepy."

Bingly: My thought is, what a cool-looking building! We should investigate.

Grolka: Fine by me. Two mages are in favor of checking it, so a barbaric orc won't be too frightened.

Rouge: But one of the two is our unwise one! Seems to me like a FAFO tower.

Plummet: Also, I did not say I was in favor -- only surprised my magic-fascinated sibling was not.

Bingly: We're right here! Why else are we adventuring if we are not adventuresome? My plan is still to have a look. There could be cool things in there. Also treasure!

Rouge: Treasure? This has a ring my ear likes more. I will follow our unwise mage ... at a safe distance, however.

Dungeon Master: Don't be so abrupt! Still you must cross the bridge before arriving at the town, and then pass through streets of ruined before reaching the tower.

Pilchard: Now I suspect danger of the bridge even more.

Plummet: Also the ruins of buildings.

Helsa: Possibly the Dungeon Master is trying to increase tension now to make us feel more secure when reaching the tower.

Pilchard: That's a Dungeon Masterly trick, it's true.

Dungeon Master: Remember my thousand experience points from earlier in the session! A leveled-up Dungeon Master is not so easy for your predictions.

Grolka: Is all this talking done? I approach the bridge.

Helsa: I as well.
Dungeon Master: So old it looks, worn down by time. The design appears simple, perhaps making it more likely to last than a fancier bridge.

Helsa: What damages are visible? I step to one side and another looking for infirm supports or other clues of warning.

Dungeon Master: Roll for Investigation.

Helsa: Unusually, I roll a 17. Plus 1 is 18.

Dungeon Master: Here near the river's bank, things look okay. Farther out, approaching middle-ish, some cracks and the right-hand railing is partly a collapse. Just past the middle, the whole railing and large chunks of bridge have fallen long ago. Cracks from this hole go outward across the bridge surface. Looks pretty scary if you don't stay all the way on the left there.

Helsa: I point out to my party these bridge deficiencies.

Rouge: I guess let's cross on the leftward part. Normally a fearsome barbaric orc would be good to lead the way, but on a crumbly bridge, maybe someone lighter should go first, and the heavy orc should go last?

Pilchard: A tiefling is lighter than an orc, correct?

Rouge: Probably. I thought even lighter than that, though, like a wispy elf of the woods. It's safest for everyone that way, I'm certain.

Helsa: I accept. A ranger is often best for scouting chores anyway. Also, I have a whip for a weapon. If bridge stone collapses beneath me, I might be able to whip hold of the railing before falling too far.

Rouge: How smart!

Helsa: Thank you.

Rouge: I meant, how smart of me to suggest this order.

Bingly: Wait, though!

Grolka: Why? I am growing impatient in a barbaric fashion when we could just be walking across the bridge.

Bingly: Things could be wrong under the bridge, though. Or, monstrosities in the water!

Pilchard: Sure. But what solution is there?

Bingly: Can't you see the obvious one? A wise mage chose as his familiar the octopus! Not so good at scoutery on top of a bridge as a hermitish ranger, but much better, scout-wise, in the water beneath it.

Helsa: Since I will walk on the bridge first, I approve this advance look by a watery familiar. Unleash your octopus please!

Bingly: I can do this from 30 feet distant to the river, so I do. Splash! An eight-armed familiar appears in the river and swims scoutingly around.

Dungeon Master: Roll the Perception of your octopus.

Bingly: It's 4. What poor scouting! Telepathically, I tell my octopus I know it can do better.

Dungeon Master: I roll a die for some reason. The total is 15! Something bites your octopus.

Bingly: What!

Dungeon Master: The damage is 14 hit points.

Pilchard: Seems like more damage than just a large fish.

Bingly: So much damage! My poor octopus!

Dungeon Master: Is it dead?

Bingly: Well, it is truthfully a spirit, not an octopus in reality. So "dead" may be inaccurate. But definitely chomped into pieces. It disappears, and I am mournful. I tell my companions sadly.

Plummet: It's okay, isn't it? Another one is summonable, right?

Bingly: Yes, but it requires a whole hour.

Rouge: Much more important is that 14 hit points is not just more than the hit points of a many-armed mollusk -- it is also more than the hit points of a low-hit-die-rolling tiefling! I am fearful of this kind of bite!

Plummet: It's also more than the hit points of a sagely mage. But it's not our plan to enter the water like an octopus, is it?

Rouge: Some things that are in the water can also come out of the water. Next time have your familiar perceive better before it is devoured, so that we will know what has eaten it.

Bingly: Please don't disparage my sacrificed familiar. His death was for our safety.

Dungeon Master: So, what plan do you have now for the bridge?

Pilchard: I am examining my spell list.

Grolka: Seems like only three of our party can bear the bite of this under-the-bridge octopus-eater.

Helsa: Only one such bite for me -- a second will be perishing.

Bingly: Same here.

Pilchard: I am also in the dead-from-two-bites category. 

Grolka: Three-ish for me. Barbaric orcs are tougher than mages, elves, and tieflings, it's clear.

Helsa: However ... all such calculations assume 14 hit points was near the top of the biter's damage, such as two dice of eight sides, or one die of ten plus four. What if this damage was only average or low for a river monstrosity -- such as four dice of six sides, or even ten dice of four sides?
Rouge: Our Dungeon Master is too friendly to send this sort of monstrosity against her yams, isn't she?

Bingly: It's true, I think. But there is also her still-new-to-Dungeon-Mastering quality. Are all her monster choices an even match for a party of characters only two levels in experience?

Pilchard: She did attack us with a roc ...

Grolka: Pff. It's obvious she did not mean us to fight the roc.

Helsa: I agree -- it was a contrivance for plot-advancing. I describe this as evidence of skillful, not critique.

Dungeon Master: Thank you for not being among these doubters, Helsa! Everyone, look! Here on page 115 of the Guide to Dungeon Mastery -- it's a very easy table, even for low-experience Dungeon Masters like the present one. I promise I mathed it very carefully.

Plummet: Your math is so superior to mine, Dungeon Master. I am relieved we might survive this fight.

Grolka: It will still require dice rolls of reasonable success.

Rouge: Mine last session were unreasonably many in unsuccesses.

Bingly: The need for nice dicing might be less with an approach of strategy.

Pilchard: I can Witch Bolt with 60 feet of range, if this river monster becomes visible.

Grolka: Anyone have a fishhook of very large size?

Plummet: Ooh! No, but I can Silent Image a tasty-looking creature onto the bridge near that hole in the middle. Is it 60 feet near? If the octo-chomping monster chomps at my image, Pilchard can Witch Bolt at it in return!

Grolka: I can fire arrows barbarically.

Helsa: Likewise, but rangerly.
Rouge: My options are greater -- I can arrow it roguishly or Fire Bolt it tieflingly.

Bingly: Hmm. Eyeing my spell list unsatisfies me. Nothing to damage from far away! I guess it's a sling for me.

Dungeon Master: Do you enact this plan?

Plummet: Yes! When all preparations are complete, I cast at the bridge near the hole. The Silent Image is ... a large but not too large octopus, since we know it likes to bite those.

Grolka: Would an octopus be on a bridge?

Bingly: Yes! They are versatile creatures! But probably it wouldn't stay there very long.

Dungeon Master: I will roll to see if something perceives your imaginary octopus on the bridge. First round ... no, a very poor roll. Second round, though ... natural 20! A long, skinny neck holding a head with a toothful mouth lifts up from the river water!

Pilchard: Can I recognize it with Nature knowledge?

Dungeon Master: Possibly. All who want to identify the necky creature may roll Nature.

Pilchard: 22!

Plummet: 20! Plume mages are great identifiers!

Grolka: 17 for an orc.

Helsa: My rangerness is dubious. I roll a total of 10.
Rouge: No identifying for me! Only Fire Bolting!

Bingly: Woefully, I roll 8.

Dungeon Master: Pilchard, Plummet, and Grolka all determined this necky thing with a mouth of sharp teeth is a Plesiosaurus. Roll your initiatives.

Plummet: It's a what?

Rouge: I heard "please yo sore ass."

Bingly: Probably an error.

Dungeon Master: Plesiosaurus -- the book calls it a large beast dinosaur.

Pilchard: Not quite a dinosaur in reality.

Grolka: Is this reality? I think instead of arguing such specifics, we should be initiating as the Dungeon Master requested. Mine is 21.

Helsa: Mine ... 6. 
Rouge: 14.

Bingly: 9.

Pilchard: 2 for me. Possibly karma for my nit-pickery of taxonomic categories.

Plummet: 4 is my roll. Boo.

Dungeon Master: The Plesiosaurus is a 7. Grolka, you may arrow at it.

Grolka: Only a 12. 

Dungeon Master: Nearly, you hit it, but instead your arrow flies past into the water. Rouge?

Rouge: My bolt of fire is inferior to Grolka's arrow. Bingly, you may go.

Bingly: Bingly the Slingly fires at the creature. Rock to the neck! No, it's only an 11.

Dungeon Master: It is the turn of the Plesiosaurus! To the bridge, it swims, and chomps viciously toward the imaged octopus! 20 is the roll! The teeth snap on empty octopus-appearing air. It becomes confused and angry! Helsa, the turn is yours.

Helsa: My bow twangs with a 21 total. The damage is 5 if that hits.

Dungeon Master: It does. Next is Plummet.

Plummet: I attempt a Starry Wisp cantrip at it. 22! But the damage is only 2.

Rouge: Lots of 2's there.

Dungeon Master: The Plesiosaurus is wisped but still appears very healthy. Pilchard, do you still use your Witch Bolt?

Pilchard: I do, but I miss terribly. However, even missing I can damage it with my witchery each turn I concentrate after this one.

Grolka: If it decides not to flee or submerge itself. I believe it is my turn, and I move closer to the river bank, possibly tempting it since the octopus image will no longer do so. My arrow attack is 20 ... for damage of 3.

Helsa: So far our damage is less than one bite from the Plesiosaurus.
Rouge: Sad face emoticon. Now, Fire Bolt! This time, a 14. Does that hit?

Dungeon Master: Yes. It is bolted. How much damage?

Rouge: Maximum! 10 points.

Bingly: Sling attack! This time, a hit! Sling damage, though, is sad. Only a 4-sided die. But I do get a 4!

Dungeon Master: 24 points to the Plesiosaurus so far. It is angered! Seeing Grolka, it swims and stretches its long neck for biting! The total is only 10, though, much less than an orc's armor class, I remember from previous battling. Helsa?

Helsa: More archery! Again, a hit. 6 points this time. Plummet is next, I think.

Plummet: Again with Wisping of the Starry sort! 14 hits, yes? Damage a little better this time, 4. Your turn, sibling!

Pilchard: No to-hit roll this time, just a 12-sided die of damage from my concentrated Witch Bolt! Bleh. 3, even less than my sister's 8-sided damage.

Grolka: My next arrow misses.

Rouge: My Fire Bolt does not -- 3 points.

Bingly: For my turn, a slung stone from a sling goes "ploop!" into the water.

Dungeon Master: Another chomp at the orc -- this time a hit! 11 points of damage.

Grolka: I bear the pain with a grunt of orcishness.

Helsa: Almost a natural 20 on my die, but it tips over to 8 instead.
Rouge: Sad face emoticon. But does that hit with your bonus?

Helsa: No, my ability scores are hermitly humble.

Dungeon Master: On to the Plume mages.

Plummet: A Wispy hit! This time, 8 points of damage!

Pilchard: 10 points of witchy lightning on my turn. We're improving, sister.

Grolka: I arrow the not-quite-a-dinosaur with a roll of 15 and maximum damage of 8.

Rouge: My Fire Bolt misses with a roll of 8.

Bingly: Again, "ploop!"

Dungeon Master: So much damage in one round. The suffering Plesiosaurus decides to flee! Sploosh! It dives, and Swish! It swims quickly far away into deep, dark river water. 75 experience points each for its defeat! Probably this victory is a good point of stoppage for our session. 100 experience points in bonus for tonight's adventure! Also, plus 100 more for surviving a fall from roc height!

Plummet: So generous! Soon I'll be third level!

Pilchard: Maybe. Or the creepy black tower may kill us before then.

Dungeon Master: We'll discover that next time!

So Much Work, Dungeon Mastering!

The greatness and power! But also ... the preparing, and the note-taking. And the typing out after ...

I know when girlfriend Claire is game-mastering, our boyfriend takes notes and writes everything out for blog posting later.

Should I change to this arrangement?

Claire's rpg-ing posts -- always, they have authenticity in sounding like our yamily playing the game. It's fun to write my posts, but they end up so Akane-sounding.

I desire opinions!

Continue this way, or impose on a boyfriend to do some work for the blogging?

Please describe your thinking about it!

Third Dungeon! Demands of the Crafty Old Woman!

Dungeon Master: Morning arrives! Where do all adventurers wake up?
Bingly: I lack any funds of significance. My action after dinnering last night would be to find the most bargainy inn available -- as long as it is not a den of filth and disease.
Plummet: Expense isn't much concern for me because my wallet is so ample. It's more important for the inn to have cozy beds.
Pilchard: If I remember, that is the "Bedzere Inn" we passed last time. Obviously I will join my sister when lodging.
Rouge: I awake wherever the boozely blond barfer invited me for after-drinking antics.
Grolka: A barbaric orc is practical about sleepage. I accompanied Bingly in search of cheap housing.
Helsa: Likewise a ranger of hermitly disposition.
Dungeon Master: In this case, miserly sleepers discover an inn called ... Root Cellar! It's an actual cellar beneath a warehouse for turnip storage. Turnip smell everywhere, plus it's necessary to watch for rotting turnips that fell and rolled out of seeing beneath beds. So intolerable in smell, a rotting turnip jostled in the night's middle by a mouse or rat. Very cheap, to stay, though -- one piece of the silver variety.
Bingly: The idea of rats -- it's concerning to me! Remember, I said no filth or disease.
Dungeon Master: These conditions are warnings from other guests, after your room is paid for. The warehouse manager who is also keeper of the inn does not advertise his rotting turnips and rats. Also, there's a counterpoint offered by one guest: "A rat eating a rotting turnip is a rat not chewing on my leg, so think twice about removing those misplaced roots."
Bingly: Hmm.
Grolka: Orcs have no fear of rats. Barbarians either!
Helsa: A hermit befriends mice and rats. These children of nature embody much contrast with civilized lodgings, and also provide an example of humble.
Dungeon Master: The Plume mages rest with comfort at Bedzere Inn. The coziness is worth a 1 gold piece expense.
Plummet: That's so much more than the cheapsters are paying! Still, my funds are sufficient, and a soft bed -- so restful!
Pilchard: I have fewer funds, but if I run out later on, I'm sure my generous sister will loan some to me.
Plummet: I don't remember saying my character has generosity. Mm ... definitely not written on my character sheet. Are you sure I remarked that?
Pilchard: A brother expects his sibling to be shareful! But it's up to you if you correct such suggestions whenever I presume familially. 
Dungeon Master: Rouge, you are asleep in a large bed of great elegance and luxuriousness. But there is a noise! Make a Constitution save to see if you wake up.
Rouge: 6. I emit snores of hung-over.
Dungeon Master: A voice, and a hand shaking you! "Wake up! Wake up! My spouse is home!" Roll initiative!
Bingly: Yikes! The sound of trouble, I think ...
Rouge: I initiate with a 7.
Dungeon Master: You hear heavy boots on stairs beyond a door. "Osguira!" demands a loud voice. The door muffles it, but still, so loud! "Why is a traveler's pack in our household entryway?" Your drunkily sluggish eyelids creak open to see a bedroom surrounds you. Wait -- I consult my thesaurus -- 'opulent' is appropriate, I think. A beautiful blond barfer with a face full of panickedness gapes at you and squeaks alarmedly. "She was supposed to return many hours from now!" What do you do?
Rouge: How clothed am I?
Dungeon Master: Naked in the entirety! Your thiefly tiefling limbs and loins and chest have only wondrous satin sheets against them. The barfer also wears nothing. You notice she has a body of extreme sexiness and a head of whirled hair-tangles.
Grolka: Obviously, you were up to much activity last night.
Helsa: Does a tiefling need to roll how recollective she is?
Dungeon Master: No. Many images of passionate and frenzied enter the brain of Rouge. Also a random murmuring ... "So much better than my spouse! If only her blocky musculature had your dainty build and less towering stature instead!"
Rouge: I leap from the bed and examine the room for my clothes and belongings.
Dungeon Master: Scattered widely, although most on the way from the door to the bed. Some undergarments appear to have catapulted in a reckless direction and hang from a chandelier. 
Rouge: I attempt an acrobatic cartwheeling to gather up all the floorward clothing. Ugh! My rolls -- so bad! Even with proficiently skill in Acrobatics, it's only an 8.
Dungeon Master: Your effort is floundersome. You end up near the door with only a sock in one hand. The footsteps rumble bootishly closer on the stairs outside. Your turn again. What do you do?
Rouge: I attempt with stealth to lock the door. Gah! My total is 9.
Dungeon Master: The door locks, but so loudly!
Rouge: I hurriedly grab all clothing and goods that I can. Are my weapons here?
Dungeon Master: How lustful and unwisdomly drunk do you think last night's Rouge was, upon entering the house?
Rouge: It was probably severely both.
Dungeon Master: Then you left them downstairs -- likely with your pack in the entryway.
Rouge: If there is a window, I run to it.
Dungeon Master: There is. As you run, the knob rattles! The door bangs with pounding!
Grolka: A different version of "bangs with pounding" than Rouge enjoyed the prior night, I speculate.
Helsa: You conjure an image I consider valid. Also a different sort of knob rattling.
Dungeon Master: Loudly booms the voice again. "Osguira! Why have you locked the door! Who is in there?"
Rouge: I open the window. What is outside? How far below is the ground?
Dungeon Master: A garden, large and well-groomed, as if the property of someone wealthy. The distance is 15 feet, but rose-bushes stand directly underneath you. If you lower yourself from the window and drop, you will land in them. If you jump beyond, it's falling damage for sure. Behind you comes the sound of a key scraping into a lock.
Rouge: I leap beyond the bushes. 
Dungeon Master: The damage is four hit points! Also, you are prone and some of your belongings scattered again.
Rouge: I gather them quickly. Is there a bush of the non-thorny sort I could hide behind nearby?
Dungeon Master: Thirty percent chance. Roll the dice of hundreds.
Rouge: 05! Finally, I'm lucky.
Dungeon Master: Such a bush is conveniently close. From the open window above, you hear voices. "Why is this bed so disheveled? Whose undergarments are those?!" In response, you hear, "I don't know! I was so drunk from the lonely of your absence, dear spouse!"
Rouge: I grab clothes and scurry to the bush. My stealth roll for concealment there returns to the poorest of dicing -- 11 in total.
Dungeon Master: No one is yet at the window, although from behind the bush, you do not see that. The voices continue -- do you strive to hear them?
Rouge: No. I dress speedily. Is the item I picked from the blond barfer's jacket last night still in my pocket?
Dungeon Master: Eighty percent chance. Roll.
Rouge: 35! What is it?
Dungeon Master: A tiny mechanical crab. It seems to have many gears, and small gems for eyes.
Rouge: What! How expensive is its appearance? Is it worth leaving an entire burgle pack and weaponry behind?
Dungeon Master: Possibly, if it is magical.
Rouge: I'm thieffully unable to determine magic. I listen carefully to see if voices are still heard from the open window.
Dungeon Master: Let's find out with a Perception roll.
Rouge: So many rolls! Will this be another bad one? Well, not terrible. The total is 14.
Dungeon Master: Maybe some mumbles. Is it two people speaking quietly? One person muttering to self after the other has left? Hard to tell with only a 14.
Rouge: I peek. Is anyone at the window and thus able to see me?
Dungeon Master: No.
Rouge: I sneak to the back door of this house, then.
Dungeon Master: What did you roll?
Rouge: Is it required for me to say?
Dungeon Master: Yes.
Plummet: I'm sitting right next to her! The dice shows a 1!
Rouge: Err, 8 with the plus of my skill.
Dungeon Master: Generously, I will say distance and other circumstances provide disadvantage for anyone to hear you.
Rouge: Thank you! So gracious a Dungeon Master.
Dungeon Master: Both rolls are 17 even before plusses, though.
Rouge: It's expected at this point. But I have determination to retrieve my goods! Is the door locked?
Dungeon Master: Eighty percent likely. You can roll.
Rouge: 06. I attempt the lock with my thieving tools. The total is 17.
Dungeon Master: Success. Roll initiative in case it's important you act before some one else.
Rouge: Aha! Natural 20! Finally my dicery is superior!
Grolka: She said, "in case," though. Possibly it's a waste of good rolling.
Dungeon Master: Also, I have not revealed if my roll is also a natural 20, so possibly it's not even superior. What is your action?
Rouge: I proceed inside and rush for the front entryway!
Dungeon Master: You are uncertain where it is from this position.
Rouge: I look for clues in architecture. What skill is that?
Dungeon Master: Investigate.
Rouge: 18!
Dungeon Master: The house is large but spaciously open, so you deduce it.
Rouge: I rush there with speed.
Dungeon Master: You hear also hurried footsteps from the story above. Roll Athletics for this race!
Rouge: Blah. 9.
Dungeon Master: The footsteps sound closely matched! They reach stairs as you reach the entry! You have one round to act before their arrival!
Rouge: I grab up my bow and an arrow and face the stairs! Loudly, I insist, "There was much drinkage last night and I did not know about spousehood! Do not force me to violent defense!"
Dungeon Master: At the stair top, you see a woman. Enormous! Her species is the goliath type. So large and strong looking! Also half undressed.
Plummet: Half undressed?
Pilchard: Rouge hurried too speedily, I think. The blond barfer must have skill at enticing a spouse to forgive her quickly.
Helsa: Mm. It appears with a tiefling's reduced hastiness, this goliath spouse would be too occupied to investigate noises.
Dungeon Master: Accurate. Rouge, are you attempting Persuasion reasonably, or attempting to strike fear with an Intimidate?
Rouge: Probably my sloppy condition of dressing and bruised flesh from leaping over rosebushes make me less effective as an intimidator. Also, my skill for Persuading is better. But ... either way, my roll is bad. 8 total for Persuade.
Dungeon Master: She is unpersuaded. However, the arrow pointed at her creates a pause. The blond barfer appears behind her and says, "Oh no!" She rushes before the goliath and faces you with arms spread for arrow-blocking. "Please do not kill my spouse!" She winks at you to show her worry is untrue. "This is only a misunderstand because of two over-drunk people!"
Rouge: I say I have no wish for killing or the being killed. "Will you let me depart in peace?" is what I ask the goliath.
Dungeon Master: You can attempt Persuasion again, with advantage for the selfless imperiling of the blond barfer on behalf of her spouse.
Rouge: This time, it's a 17.
Dungeon Master: Growlingly, the spouse tells you to take your things and go.
Rouge: I obey promptly!
Dungeon Master: You escape with 20 experience points for this terrorizing encounter of jealousy.
Bingly: I hope there are no such adventures in the rat-ful Root Cellar ...
Grolka: Are you adulterizing with a goliath-spoused rat?
Bingly: I meant adventures so hazardous, not antagonisms with spouses.
Dungeon Master: Both sets of inn-sleepers awake without peril.
Bingly: Good. My guess is, there are no breakfasting options at the Root Cellar.
Grolka: Incorrect. Obviously, there are choices of rotten turnips, unrotten turnips, and possibly with some huntering, rat meat.
Helsa: Hmm. A hermit is used to impoverished dining, but it seems worth some effort to sleuth a place with watery porridge as a minimum.
Dungeon Master: The warehouse boss can recommend several porridgeries. Is this a word? Anyway, establishments of porridge-making.
Bingly: Let's proceed to the closest.
Grolka: Agreed.
Helsa: Sensible.
Dungeon Master: For their 1 gold piece spent lodging, the Plume mages have a breakfast included, downstairs in the room of commons. It's eggs and onions, plus a dish to the side of mashed turnips. For extra expense, bacon is obtainable.
Plummet: I purchase bacon! How much is it?
Dungeon Master: One copper coin per slice.
Plummet: Five slices, then!
Pilchard: I observe my sister's slices longingly and purchase one slice if she will not share.
Plummet: Of course a sister will share, when she has these extra turnips!
Pilchard: Thank you, but it's a polite decline for your unwanted turnip mash. I expend a coin on bacon.
Dungeon Master: This bacon! So good! Pilchard must make a roll of Constitution saving.
Pilchard: My bonus plus roll is 21.
Dungeon Master: Your hunger is manageable. A poor roll would have required another saving to resist additional bacon-buying.
Helsa: It's good we others have escaped this temptation by dining at the porridgery.
Dungeon Master: One copper per porridge bowl.
Rouge: When safely away from the blond barfer's palace of perilous spouse encounter, I return to the regions I last observed my companions.
Dungeon Master: Roll Investigation to see how well you find them!
Rouge: Natural 20! This die taunts me with a success level beyond necessary!
Pilchard: No, shouldn't a success so grand discover all our locations? Now we can have a speedy reunion after breakfasting and continue our quest, right?
Dungeon Master: Certainly! But this assumes all party members have the same goal once breakfasted.
Bingly: To find the old woman who has many ingredient needs for her craftiness, right?
Plummet: Yes, but the Plume mages hoped to launder the smell of turnips from their robes first, I thought.
Pilchard: Likewise. But ... do we have spare clothes for wearing while our turnippy ones are washing? Ah, yes, my character sheet lists both "fine clothes" and "robe."
Plummet: Mine lists ... nothing! Am I clothesless?!
Dungeon Master: No, just in the most basic clothes, not "fine" or robe-ish.
Plummet: Oh, good. It's still a problem for visiting the laundry, though. I'll be naked while the laundrist washes my things! I should shop for spare wearables before we go.
Rouge: I am gathering you before this quest of clothes shopping and washing can begin.
Grolka: Gather us first. I'm certain we woke earlier from less cozy beds and breakfasted more quickly without distractions of bacon-buying.
Helsa: Your reasoning -- so impeccable!
Dungeon Master: I declare the group gathering accomplished. What  do you do next?
Bingly: Let's be direct and find the crafty old woman who needs special ingredients.
Plummet: Ooh! I hope we asked somebody last night where to find her!
Pilchard: Hmm ... last session's ending was just after dinner and this session starts with characters waking up, so did we even have a chance to? I think some hours could have been used in there to inform ourselves.
Dungeon Master: It's a disorderly sequence to go back and say so, I think. But efficient, so the Dungeon Master allows it. You have learned an address and also her name: Wrinklada the Thingsmaker.
Rouge: I have had no breakfast after a very exercised evening and awakening. While walking to this Wrinklada, I gaze carefully for carts or kiosks selling street food.
Dungeon Master: You see some. Toasted Turnips on Convenient Stick according to one sign, Flaky Tasty Turnip Tarts according to another. Each is 2 copper pieces.
Rouge: I expend that amount.
Grolka: "Thingsmaker" ... seems very unspecific.
Helsa: Or her talents for crafting have a very wide scope.
Dungeon Master: You may find out soon -- arrival happens!
Plummet: So speedy! Do our legs ache from such quick walkery?
Dungeon Master: No. I skipped the description of colorful events like a good-memory horse eyeing Bingly with anger, and turnip salesmen calling out from many street corners.
Bingly: No complaints from Bingly about that!
Dungeon Master: The window of Wrinklada's business is large and fanciful! Many sorts of objects have been displayed -- chairs, cabinetry, futons, accessories of fashionable, teapots -- it's a large variety, all with an appearance of quality so fine.
Bingly: Should we examine through the window a while and gain clues about what we might be asked to find for ingredients?
Plummet: I'm too excited! I go in.
Pilchard: I accompany her.
Rouge: Likewise the thieveling tiefling.
Dungeon Master: Wait though! A signs says, "No Food or Drink, Please!" You have not finished your turnip-y breakfast entirely.
Rouge: Pff! I am Chaotic Chaotic. Probably I don't even read the sign, but definitely it inspires disobedience if I do. I stroll in breakfastingly.
Grolka: Since I'm barbaric, I see nothing for objection in such behavior.
Helsa: I delay entrance to appear unassociated with this rule-breaker rogue.
Dungeon Master: Inside an assistant greets you. He is short and round -- a well-fed dwarf with spectacles and such a neat beard. "Hello!" he remarks. "What assisting can I do for you?"
Plummet: "We're adventurers! Is Wrinklada here?"
Rouge: I am looking for pocket-sized items while this assistant has distraction from conversing.
Dungeon Master: Hmm. Items of that size appear unfindable, except inside cases and shelves of display. The assistant tells Plummet, "Always busy, Wrinklada -- so I have authority to sell and buy most things."
Bingly: I attempt a Charm of this Person! The difficulty for him to save from my spell is 13.
Dungeon Master: Possibly unwise! He may have saving bonuses from many experience levels more than you!
Bingly: Definitely it's unwise ... my character has Wisdom 6.
Dungeon Master: Well, his roll is terrible, and so ... Charmed! The book says he is Friendly to you and you may socialize with him Advantageously.
Bingly: I tell him we are especially good at adventuring, and so Wrinklada may want to hire us for finding ingredients too unusual for his buying. He should go get her. It's a Persuasion roll?
Dungeon Master: Yes, and remember the Advantage.
Bingly: Hmm. I manage only a 14 even when Advantaged.
Dungeon Master: Unfortunately, only an Easy task would have success on 14. This one is not so Easy. "Many adventurers claim impressive experience, but sometimes it's an over-estimation. Wrinklada would be unpleased at disturbance from such a case."
Bingly: I'll try altering tactics. "Would she like to see an octopus, then? I have one."
Dungeon Master: Roll the dice of percentage to see if he knows of octopus interest by his superior.
Bingly: 26.
Dungeon Master: He says, "How would I know?"
Bingly: I make a suggestion. "You should ask her! Imagine her face of disappoint later, if she finds she has missed an octopus-eyeing opportunity."
Plummet: Ooh, this is a good point!
Grolka: I'm uncertain about its goodness ...
Dungeon Master: Again you can try a Persuasion with Advantage.
Bingly: Oh. Very poor. My total is 6.
Dungeon Master: In this case, you are lucky. It's very easy to make him think an octopus has enough novelty to simply ask her a question. He tells you to wait. And exits through a behind-the-counter door.
Rouge: I examine the display cases for locks.
Helsa: Is this observable? I have an unsettling of nerves for our tiefling to have such interest in whether cases are locked, if I see it.
Dungeon Master: Rouge did not say her examination was stealthy, so roll whether you are Perceiving it.
Helsa: 18.
Dungeon Master: You do see ... but how Insightful is your seeing? Roll the skill of Insight.
Helsa: Much poorer. Only a 6.
Dungeon Master: Possibly she is only looking because she wants to take an object out for closer examining. Remember, you have not observed her being thievish, only tieflingish.
Helsa: All right. Still, I'll continue Perceiving at her.
Dungeon Master: Rouge, you do find the cases to be locked. Roll to notice Helsa ogling your activities.
Rouge: 19. I will shrug to appear undisappointed.
Dungeon Master: The assistant returns, following behind an old, old woman in simple robes. She is wrinkly to a degree that's extreme. "Where is this octopus?" she asks.
Bingly: "Here!" I say. I summon my octopus from the pocket dimension and hold it out to her. "Look at its many tentacles and peculiar eyes!"
Dungeon Master: Wrinklada frowns. "Is it just a familiar octopus? There's no way to acquire ingredients from a mollusk of that sort."
Bingly: "Oh, I'm sorry!" I return the octopus to its dimensional pocket. "Please tell us a special ingredient we can find for you to make up for this misunderstand."
Pilchard: Pretty sharp!
Dungeon Master: Wrinklada casts glaring eyes at her assistant. "Phlibbus! Again my time is wasted! Tell them the story of King Klardo's bones and avoid bothering me more today!" Then she turns and goes.
Bingly: "But ..."
Dungeon Master: Already, she is gone. Phlibbus has a scowl for you. Also, a story: The Bothersome King of Braddlebrick Bay. He tells you that to the east is the kingdom of Braddlebrick Bay where once the ruler was King Klardo. This king had an ability to annoy, which many kings could get away with. But Klardo annoyed some powerful being -- a mighty sorcerer or demon or deity. "Such an annoying king!" said the being. Then it cursed him with heavy bones. With bones of this kind, all moving gave Klardo an exhausted state. No dancing for King Klardo, or hopping, skipping, and jumping either! He died sad and so, so tired. Plus, everyone around him had additional annoyance having to help him move until he died. 
Plummet: What a sad story!
Dungeon Master: Yes, but also very annoying to the people who lived there. The grave of the king gave even more annoyance. Whoever saw it became annoyed. Even walking nearby -- so annoying! Finally, they dug him up and took his body to bury far away. So now the location is lost. Phlibbus tells you you must find it, because Wrinklada desires the ground-up bones for an ingredient.
Pilchard: What sort of object needs ground-up cursed bones to make?
Dungeon Master: Phlibbus tells you, "Don't worry about that. Just go away and find the bones."
Grolka: How?
Helsa: Seemingly, more information is required.
Dungeon Master: Phlibbus indicates that such concerns are yours, not his. Then he shoos you from the shop.
Bingly: Well, dang.
Plummet: Ooh! Wait!
Grolka: What?
Plummet: You know who knows lots of things about things?
Rouge: Um ...
Helsa: So many conceivable answers for that question ...
Plummet: Sages! I know because I am one. (So I had to look it up after the creating of characters.) We should find a sage with specialization of bones! Or, of Braddlebrick Bay historicality.
Pilchard: Smart idea, sister!
Plummet: Thank you, brother!
Rouge: Maybe not an idea of instant use, though. Is this turnip town of Napplyville a place to find such sages?
Helsa: Dubious.
Bingly: It's okay! We are adventuresome adventurers! Now a goal is before us. It's the start of our first real adventure!
Plummet: Pretty true, I guess.
Rouge: I feel my adventures last night and this morning had reality before this one, though.
Helsa: Possibly "quest" has more appropriateness than just "adventure."
Rouge: I can get with that.
Grolka: So, what next?
Bingly: Seems like a sage about Braddlebrick Bay might be found in Braddlebrick Bay.
Pilchard: Do we know how far that is?
Dungeon Master: Several weeks in an eastward direction.
Bingly: We'd better be going, then.
Plummet: After the Plume mages launder their clothes!
Dungeon Master: It's a good place to end this session, I think. 100 experience points each!
Bingly: I increase in level!
Rouge: Likewise!
Dungeon Master: Good! Now it's okay to send monsters too dangerous for level ones!
Plummet: Uh-oh. Maybe not so good.
Dungeon Master: You will find out next time!

(Readers! "Next time" is found here!)

Second Dungeon! It is the Town Called Naplyville!

Dungeon Master: Session two begins! The cart of an old turnip farmer returns to his town of Naplyville, bearing adventurers in place of turnips.
Plummet: I thought we decided it was a wagon?
Dungeon Master: Failure! Zero Dungeon Master experience points awarded. So sorry to begin the session with more cart confusion.
Plummet: We could say "cartfusion" for short.
Dungeon Master: Please do not plan for more errors of Dungeon Mastering! Also, the farmer says, "We're here! Thank you for saving me and my vehicle from twigsters and needlers. Also, get out so that I may drive my vehicle away and you do not have to mention it ever again."
Pilchard: I'll get out. Do we need to pay him?
Dungeon Master: The fee is waived as reward for him not getting twigged or needled to death.
Plummet: I will exit also. Oh! I smell my robes of magehood. Have they gained the reek of turnips from so long in the farmer's vehicle?
Dungeon Master: Yes, but only so very faint in odor. Also, Naplyville has excessive turnip farms, so it's unlikely to be noticed.
Pilchard: It's still an unmagely and unscribely scent. Hopefully there is a house of laundrying in Naplyville.
Plummet: Unmagely and unsagely as well! Brother, we must seek laundryage immediately.
Grolka: Wait! How even does the town of Naplyville look? Are the streets full of hoodlums that should alarm mages from leaving the company of their orc of barbarism?
Helsa: Indeed, such appreciation would be yours for describing our arrived-at environment in more detail, Dungeon Master.
Bingly: Or, is it time again for a six-sided die to determine one of us to be the describer?
Dungeon Master: No! Today there has been more preparation! Behold, the map of Naplyville!

Plummet: It's a kitty!
Dungeon Master: 50 experience points! A town of cozy beds must certainly attract many cats.
Plummet: Woohoo!
Helsa: It's very pleasing cartography, Dungeon Master. Congratulations on this job.
Dungeon Master: 50 experience points for flattery! But ... minus 30 experience points for saying "cart."
Helsa: I'll accept 20 without complaining.
Dungeon Master: On this map, you see the grey of roads, the green of forest, the brown of earth, and the darker browns of buildings and walls. Also, darker green spots of Naplyville's many gardens and parks. In the ears there's croppage. This northern end is where adventurers have had their arrival. Immediately near the gates are two inns with signs. "Cozy beds here!" and "Slumber with comfort!" Also name signs. Hmm ... "Bedzere Inn" and "Slumbfort Hotel." Many folk walk the streets, people of all sorts.
Grolka: Are hoodlums an included sort?
Dungeon Master: Only a few arouse your hoodlum suspecting. Most appear farmers -- turnip farmers in large numbers, and also apple orcharders and growers of spinach. Shops are here also, repairers of shoes or sword emporiums or a boat maker. That shop is unpopular because no river or lake is near. A shopkeeper on the porch appears grim.
Bingly: Maybe a view of an octopus would cheer him with thoughts of the sea. Possibly I should visit him later.
Helsa: Does any shop nearby have an appearance of ownership by a crafty old woman?
Dungeon Master: No. That one must be farther into the town.
Pilchard: What about launderers?
Dungeon Master: No immediate sight of a laundry shop appears. You notice, though -- wandering there and here are other adventuresome-looking sorts. One has armor and a sword very great. Another looks wizardly. Also, there is one with a habit.
Rouge: Like picking his nose? Or like a drinking habit?
Dungeon Master: No, it's a worn habit. She is a nun of the combative sort.
Bingly: Worn meaning she's wearing it, or worn meaning it's frayed?
Dungeon Master: It's both. Her appearance is holy, but impoverished.
Grolka: I assume it's spiritual in its holiness, not holey as if eaten by moths.
Bingly: It could be moths that are causing the fraying. Her habit could be being a-frayed of moths.
Pilchard: Oh, ow. That one felt like you're lacking practice recently, Claire.
Dungeon Master: Zero experience points.
Helsa: Returning to the game ... if just from near the gate, already three adventurer types are seen, and easily the town must be five or six times the size observed so far, then it's possible Naplyville contains dozens of such individuals.
Rouge: Or adventurers always stop at the first inn seen, and these ones have rooms at Bedzere Inn or Slumbfort Hotel.
Pilchard: We didn't stop at the first inn seen.
Grolka: Possibly it's unnoticed by Pilchard that we are unusual.
Helsa: My preference for our description would be "exceptional." But it's true that I may have estimated with recklessness.
Rouge: I desire to examine the folk here for individuals of wealthy but careless appearance. As a thieveling tiefling, I need practice for my pocket pickery.
Dungeon Master: Observe my preparation! This is an examination for deducing clues, so "Investigation" skill is the useful one.
Rouge: Hm. That skill I have proficient in, but not the expert kind. Can't I use Perception? It's a little better for me.
Dungeon Master: Perception is, "Do I notice a person hiding?" Investigation is, "Can I conclude things about a person who is not hiding?" So my Dungeon Mastering preparation insists, Investigation is the skill.
Rouge: Well, it's only one point worse, at least. Ah! My roll is 18, plus 2 is 20.

Dungeon Master: Tch. So sad the roll was not 21 and achievement of success.
Rouge: What!
Dungeon Master: That was jokery. A 20 allows the notice of some well-dressed and drunkardly sort leaving a tavern with obvious stagger.
Rouge: I pursue him!
Bingly: Or her?
Dungeon Master: Yes, it's a her. 25 experience points! Young and cute and blond. Will you victimize her?
Plummet: Eep! I hope not!
Rouge: Where is the fairness tonight? I feel plotted against.
Dungeon Master: So, do you abandon this notion of thievery?
Rouge: No! I am of chaotic chaotic alignment, non-remorseful completely! I stealth at her with a roll of ... oop. Only 10.
Dungeon Master: She hears your stealthless step and turns immediately. But it's too fast a spin for her boozely stomach. She must Constitution save or hurl in your direction. Ah, an 18 seems lucky for the skulking tiefling ... 
Rouge: Yeah, that's got to save.
Dungeon Master: But observe more Dungeon Master preparedness! So many drinks she has had, it forces her roll at Disadvantage! The second roll is 4 -- worse than 18 and much too poor to save. Her vomit expels in your direction loudly! BARRRF! You can roll a save with Dexterity.
Rouge: I roll an 18 total, and there will be great anger if 18 does not save versus barfery.
Dungeon Master: It does. The blond boozer sicks all over the street just where you stood before dodging. Much noisy and extensive heavery with her hands on her knees.
Rouge: Aha! I spot vulnerability. With a pretend of concerned passer-by, I say, "Oh, are you all right?" and hold back her hair for her. When the heavery stops, I will pat her back one-handed and attempt a pocket-picking with the other. My attempt is 22 for Sleight of Hand.
Dungeon Master: You retrieve something from a pocket inside her fancy coat.
Rouge: Yes! A coin pouch? A wallet?
Dungeon Master: Do you stop here to examine?
Rouge: No, I have Wisdom 13, so probably I'm more sensible than that. It goes into my own pocket instead.
Dungeon Master: She looks at you so very thankful. "Oh!" she says. "So kind! I am glad to avoid hair full of vomit with your assistance."
Pilchard: How far away is this happening? Are we all just watching Rouge engage in such chicanery?
Plummet: Well, do we even know she's thievish? Probably in our ride from Spinrut, the likely of volunteering criminality was low.
Grolka: Grolka is hungry. She looks for dining opportunities instead of staring at the antics of companions.
Helsa: Yes, probably dinner would suit our entire party, after so much traveling and blight fighting. I accompany the orc.
Bingly: I must walk my octopus. Is there a fountain or horse-trough nearby?
Dungeon Master: These motives of individuality seem more likely than all five carefully observing the tiefling. But you can choose your own role-playery approach, Pilchard.
Pilchard: Probably I'd want to find lodging, I suppose. What about you, sister?
Plummet: Yes! Somewhere with cozy beds. Although maybe at least learn where there is laundry first. Or maybe dinner. I don't know.
Dungeon Master: So then, Grolka sees restaurants and taverns nearby. A carving of roasted hog head with its mouth biting an apple is over a door down the street, and a placard is painted with the foamy mug of beer or ale that implies tavernage. One sign says, "Tasty turnip pies."

Grolka: I will skip the turnip pies and ask if anyone wants to head to the tavern with me.
Helsa: My hermit past thinks a turnip pie might not be bad, but I adhere to my plan of going with Grolka.
Bingly: I'm still on lookout for troughs and fountains.
Pilchard: Well, Penny, should we Plume mages join them or further explore for a laundry or different hotels?
Plummet: I roll a save of Constitution to see how hungered I am. Oh, 19! Definitely, I'm sturdy enough to explore and not rush to dinner.

Dungeon Master: In this case, the Plume mages must wander farther into town past where Rouge assists with the yarking of her crimed victim.
Pilchard: I will call out to the orc and ranger, "Save us a seat and we'll met you shortly!"

Grolka: Which ability do we use for rolling a seat Save?
Helsa: Very amusing question. And, I hope, rhetorical.
Dungeon Master: Rouge, the blond barfer says now she has more room for drinking. She invites you to do some.

Rouge: I tell her this appeals to me, but I'm so poor. Is she paying?
Dungeon Master: Yes. She tells you, "Follow me to a bar I know that is exceptional."
Pilchard: Hmm. Unaware of the tiefling's thievery, I tell my sister, "I bet Rouge could get some, if she plays this in suave enough fashion."
Plummet: Do you think she's interested in such activities?

Rouge: Literally, my last name is "Hornytail."
Plummet: Oh, that's right.

Dungeon Master: Which group should be first? Let's initiative!
Pilchard: You can roll for us, Penny. My rolls are so poor.
Plummet: So much pressure! Now look, I roll a 3.

Grolka: Since I'm leading the way with Helsa coming after, our initiative is 14.
Helsa: Good job. Most laudable dicing.
Rouge: I roll 14 also, though. 
Dungeon Master: Bingly will decide which 14 is superior for initiating!

Bingly: Me? All right. Rouge is following a drunk stumbler, so probably less speedy than a hungry orc and ranger.
Dungeon Master: Okay! What is Bingly's roll, then?

Bingly: Aha! 18!
Dungeon Master: First is Bingly. Nearby, you see a trough. But drinking at it is a mean-looking, perhaps octopus-eating horse. No fountains in sight on this street, but roll to see if you can Perceive one closer to the town's center.

Bingly: I roll a 5, minus 2 for poor Wisdom, so there's no hope of seeing far into town. Evil horse trough it must be. Possibly, though I can Animal Handle this horse into being peaceable with my familiar. To improve odds, I will buy turnips. In this town, there should be some close by, correct?
Dungeon Master: Yes, one copper piece each.

Bingly: I buy four and approach the horse so skillfully with my Animal Handling proficiency. "Look, horse! Turnips!" I offer it one.
Dungeon Master: Roll your skill. You may have Advantage for the turnip-giving.
Plummet: All right! This should be easy.

Bingly: Well, I have skill, but my poor Wisdom cancels it out. Of course, poor Wisdom also means I'm not aware my Handling is mediocre. My dice produce rolls of 10 and 11.
Dungeon Master: This horse is hostile, but hungry. It snatches at the turnip, trying to bite your fingers in this process. Only a 3 to-hit, though. It gets only the turnip, not fingers.

Bingly: I unleash my octopus from its pocket dimension into the trough.
Dungeon Master: He is pleased to be out, and frolics in one end of the trough. The horse's anger intensifies! Roll initiative.

Bingly: Mine is 14. My octopus, 21!
Dungeon Master: It's 2 for the horse.

Bingly: Hmm. A familiar can't attack, and the only octopus action is squirting ink, which is a reaction. Seems like my octopus only frolics. My turn is to offer another turnip.
Dungeon Master: Again, the horse snaps. 9! With its combat plus, it hits! The Manual of Monstrous offers only hoof damage, so I will improvise for a horse bite. I think 1 to 2 is fair, and I roll 1.

Bingly: Ouch! Wait, though. Did the horse not even have to chew turnip number one?
Dungeon Master: Oh. Correct, it's another zero experience point fail of Dungeon Mastery. This turn it must chew. However, it eyes your finger angrily while munching the turnip.

Bingly: Its anger and my poor hit points suggest strategy. On my new turn, I toss the turnip into the horse's end of the trough. Do I roll to hit?
Dungeon Master: You're very close. I think it's accomplished even by just dropping the turnip in.
Bingly: Good. Dropping something is no action, right? So my action will be dodging, in case it attacks my fingers instead of the turnip.
Dungeon Master: The horse observes the sinking turnip and attempts to retrieve it.
Bingly: Aha! does this mean its head is in water at the end of its turn?
Dungeon Master: If its first roll is a miss, yes. And the roll is 2.
Bingly: Excellent! Now the octopus can engage in reaction! Ink squirt! The trough fills with octopus ink. Everything inside five feet, obscured! Water only, obviously. It can't ink-cloud the air.
Dungeon Master: The horse rages at denial of turnip and inking of drinking water. You think on its next turn, hostility increases.
Bingly: My action is, Disengage. From outside its reach, I watch. With telepathy of the Find Familiar spell, I tell my octopus, "You have one minute to frolic! That's when your ink will fade and an angry horse will see you!" Then telepathically I enjoy its frolicking until the minute is over. When time is up, I send it back to the pocket dimension. Now my adventure is over, so I'll proceed tavern-wise to catch up to our orc and ranger.
Dungeon Master: Very good! 15 experience points for foiling an unpleasant horse. Next it's the taverners' initiative. You approach the sign of a foamy mug. This tavern is named ... Mug and Glug! It's a drinking sound, correct? "Glug!"
Grolka: Sounds good to me. What do we find in the interior?
Dungeon Master: This tavern has popularity, it's obvious. So many drinkers and gamesters playing cards and rowdy song-singing. Also much dinnering -- plates of food being devoured gustily.
Helsa: I conduct an examination of the room for empty tables ready for us to occupy. Also, what meals here appear to have the most appeal?
Dungeon Master: Very few tables of the open sort. In fact, none. Only at tables of cardage are there empty seats. Probably you'll have to gamble if you sit there, though.
Grolka: No problems from that -- I find gambling and eating superior to eating only. I seek the closest table with room. How about it, Helsa? Will you gamble also?
Helsa: I am poor with bluffing. A decline in my funds is inevitable if I must gamble, so I will sleuth after a place at the bar instead.
Dungeon Master: You find one. Grolka observes thuggish gamblers at the closest table with room. More refined cardsters are visible farther away.
Grolka: Thugs seem easier to overcome at gambling. I sit at their table.
Dungeon Master: One says, "Who invited you?" She is a shouldersome woman with thick red hair that juts from her head. An ear has a scar shaped like tooth marks.
Grolka: I tell her the empty chair invited me, and also my tired feet from long journeys. 
Dungeon Master: She says her friend is expected soon. "Depart! Your participation does not interest us!"
Grolka: I demand to wager. We must play at cards for a hand, and if I lose, I get to stay.
Dungeon Master: She says it's usual for the winner to pick what happens, not the one defeated.
Grolka: I ask whether she likes to gamble more with a loser or a winner.
Dungeon Master: Her eyebrows clench from thinking. She agrees to your wager. Cards are dealt! Do you attempt a loss, or a win?
Grolka: It's a win either way, right? Gold pieces one way or a place to sit the other. Still, I try to win the game.
Dungeon Master: It's a difficulty of 20 to win. Do you have cards proficiency?
Grolka: Unfortunately, no. Only with dice. But I roll a 19 and there is a plus for Wisdom, which makes 20!
Dungeon Master: Your triumph is rewarded with 7 gold pieces.
Grolka: While playing, has a wait-person come with food?
Dungeon Master: Yes, at a cost of one or two silver pieces, depending on your requirements for quality.
Grolka: One-silver food is fine for a barbarous orc.
Helsa: Also for a hermitly elf, sitting at the bar.
Dungeon Master: At the bar, food arrives more quickly. At the table, it is just coming when Grolka achieves victory, but the shouldersome woman is angry. "You were supposed to lose!"
Grolka: "No, only to leave if I did not lose," is what I tell her. But also, I add, "Oh ... of course, you can only win back your 7 gold pieces if I stay for more gambling."
Dungeon Master: Her outrage at this! It's very great. She insists -- "Take your food elsewhere!"
Grolka: I look over each of my shoulders. Unless someone is there, I tell her, "I don't see others looking to sit and gamble with you. Even if you won't lose more gold to me at cards, I think I'll remain until my dining is complete."
Dungeon Master: Her companions at the table are also thuggish, remember. They look at her with eyes full of brutely questions. You can see them in their glares: "Should we bash this orc, boss?" or, "I lost also. Let's do some revenge, right?"
Grolka: How are their armaments? Also, what is the food? If there's meat on a bone, I pick it up to gnaw while waiting.
Dungeon Master: It's a whole chicken, so there are drumsticks. The thuggish cardsters have knives and clubs, mostly. Maybe one has only very large fists. There are three, plus the woman: a dwarf, a goliath, and a gnome of extreme meanness in features.
Grolka: I pat my battle axe with intimidation and speak even though I am chewing all the meat from a chicken leg in one bite. "Probably you can defeat me if you try. But I think someone will lose fingers or a nose at least. You see how quickly I can eat. Seems like letting me finish and leave is wiser."
Helsa: Do I perceive this? Is there a roll?
Dungeon Master: Yes, rolls for Perceiving and also for Intimidating, one from each of you.
Grolka: Intimidation is 21 with my proficiency of Intimidate.
Helsa: Nng. Perception roll is 6 even with my skill of 4 for a plus.
Dungeon Master: Helsa has attention only to consume her meal. Grolka's lackadaisy changes brutely question-looks of thugs into looks of less certain questioning. The thick-hair woman narrows eyes at Grolka and says nothing, only waiting with arms crossed.
Grolka: Since I have 7 extra gold pieces, I tell a wench of serving, "Bring ales for this crew of card-losers. I will pay."
Helsa: The provocation here seems deliberate.
Dungeon Master: Some thugs remain intimidated. Others realize that they thirst. Violence is averted!
Bingly: Have I arrived from my octopus-and-horse adventure?
Dungeon Master: Yes. Roll dice of percentage. You want 25 or less.
Bingly: The percentage is 28.
Dungeon Master: So unfortunate! A table becomes available near the door ... but other patrons seize it before you can approach. On 25 or less, you could have rolled initiative to precede them.
Bingly: That's okay. My initiating most likely would be poor anyway. If room still exists at the bar, I will join Helsa.
Dungeon Master: A drinking town-woman sits between one empty spot and Helsa. This is the closest you can get.
Bingly: I take the empty spot and request from the bartender his largest glass pitcher, filled with water.
Dungeon Master: He brings it.
Bingly: Time for octopus frolicking! I release the familiar from the pocket-ish dimension.
Dungeon Master: It is happy to be out again. The town woman is alarmed!
Bingly: I tell her fear is unnecessary. "An octopus is harmless, and probably will not crawl out of its pitcher." Telepathically, I order the octopus to stare at her. And also, to lift the tips of its tentacles up over the pitcher rim as if exploring.
Dungeon Master: She drinks quickly and leaves.
Bingly: Excellent! I slide over to accompany Helsa at the bar.
Grolka: Do I notice the vacated seat beside Bingly?
Dungeon Master: Perception roll! With advantage due to the noticeability of an octopus in a pitcher.
Grolka: 12, plus 1 is 13.
Dungeon Master: You observe it.
Grolka: I stand up with my remaining chicken-body. "Thank you for the wagering," I tell the thugly group. "Now I will finish my meal elsewhere." Then I go to the open bar space.
Dungeon Master: Accomplished! Pilchard, Plummet, are you ready to role-play the search for laundry?
Pilchard: Only if it's not boring. Not every activity must be role-played, you know.
Dungeon Master: It is so boring! Laundry -- even a Dungeon Master of great skill would have challenge creating excitement with laundry. We can skip if Plummet agrees.
Plummet: Sure, but does that mean we find one?
Dungeon Master: Yes. Boronio's Booth of Boringly Cleansed Clothing! It is closed, so you must note its location for future return.
Pilchard: We do so.
Plummet: Now for taverning!
Dungeon Master: All adventurers may dine and glug into the evening as they like. Probably this is a good conclusion for session number two. 100 experience points each for townly adventures!
Bingly: Ugh! Only 25 more points of experience and I would arrive at level 2!
Rouge: 50 points remain before leveling is in my grasp.
Pilchard: I'm at 300 exactly. Ping!
Plummet: Yes, your wizardly sister as well!
Grolka: Likewise an orc.
Helsa: Hmm. Somehow, the hermitly ranger has exceeded you all. 320 points.
Dungeon Master: Those over 300 may level before next session! So sorry to the laggards of leveling. I should have awarded points more carefully.
Bingly: It's okay, when so much octopoidal entertainment was achieved.
Rouge: Probably the experience of holding back hair from a vomitly bar-hopper's sicking is not worth a level.
Dungeon Master: Still, I will be more careful for future escapades of thieving and puke protecting.
Pilchard: Super-fun session, DM! Your talents are growing.
Plummet: Yes! So masterful and dungeony!
Grolka: I have excitement for next time.
Helsa: Many compliments are deserved.
Dungeon Master: Thank you all! Next time ... a new day! Goodnight!

(Readers can now click and find this "new day" through magic of linking!)