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!)

First Dungeon! Cart of the Very Old Farmer!

Our adventures with new Dungeons and Dragons started this way ... !

Dungeon Master: You are all traveling from a town to another town. The vehicle is a farm cart. Or wagon. A wagon is bigger for carrying so many adventurers, I think, sorry to call it a cart. He is an old, old farmer. Mostly of turnips. He sold so many in the town you are traveling from! He is happy, even though very old. The horses are old too, so the cart is slow. Wagon! Sorry again. Everything smells of turnips that have been sold. Hmm. I roll a die of six sides. The roll is 6! That means Bingly must tell where he is going from and why.
Bingly: Oh, you mean I will name the town? What a different way to begin!
Dungeon Master: Yes, I tried to prepare. So much advice to read in the Guide to Dungeon Mastery, though. It was all, read, read, read, read, oh no, so late! Akane must sleep. Same the next day until suddenly, out of time for preparations. But then I realized, a Dungeon Master has the potent of omni! So you must labor for me to make up for my unpreparedness.
Bingly: It's a high challenge, but I will climb it. The town is ... Spinrut! Yes, we have left Spinrut and are on the road. My wizard master told me, "You are done with Apprenticery, Bingly! Go elsewhere, and take your octopus with you!" This oldster farmer was the first with a vehicle going to the next town.
Dungeon Master: Good! Spinrut ... it's a strange town name, but good.
Plummet: Maybe everyone is leaving because they were in a rut there! Just spinning and spinning in a rut.
Dungeon Master: It's possible, but I haven't rolled the die yet, so you may not get to choose. Next roll is ... 2.
Plummet: Are you counting this way around the table?
Dungeon Master: Yes.
Plummet: Then that's me!
Dungeon Master: Correct. So you are leaving the town from being in a rut. What town are you going to?
Plummet: Naplyville! It's famous for inns with cozy beds. I'm appealed by that because sage-ing and apprenticing are both hard work. Extreme in tiresomeness!
Rouge: I am unsurprised.
Plummet: Hush!
Dungeon Master: Don't hush her -- I might roll a 5, and then she is next. But no, the roll is 4. Helsa the Homely, what else is in Naplyville to lure a rangerous adventurer out of hermitage?
Helsa: Plainly, there are turnips, unlike in Spinrut.
Pilchard: !!! I just realized -- Spinrut is "turnips" backwards!
Dungeon Master: 50 experience points! You have solved the first mystery of the campaign! The secretish name of Spinrut -- it is the opposite of "turnips" because they have none, so the excellent sales of oldster farmer are explained.
Plummet: Wow, did you plan that? Wait, it's impossible. The town name came from Bingly.
Dungeon Master: Accurate, yes. But writing it down in my notes, I noticed the backwards of it. Remember, I come from Japan, where words go the other way. Also, we know the player of Bingly enjoys making puns and games of wordage. So I observed what she did.
Pilchard: Do I really get 50 points of experience?
Dungeon Master: It's true. The Guide of Mastery said a DM can give any experience she wishes. So boring to only get experience for killing and slaying and always with battles, I think. So instead, I will be whimming many experience rewards.
Rogue: Wait, we do get to kill things, though, don't we?
Dungeon Master: Sometimes. Remember, it's whimmage.
Helsa: There's no critique here, but I love the word "whimsy." Not so original as "whimming" and "whimmage," but I encourage its use.
Dungeon Master: 50 experience points!
Grolka: Really? Only for correcting the wording of the DM?
Dungeon Master: No. Apologies for this confuse. They are DM experience points. Eventually the Dungeon Master will level up in English.
Helsa: I thought that seemed too much goodness to also be truth. To continue my answer --
Pilchard: Oh, sorry, I did interrupt before.
Grolka: And also just now.
Pilchard: Sorry! Plus extra sorrow!
Helsa: I dispense forgiveness upon you. Turnips are no attraction for a ranger of my sort, and to hermits, soft beds must be considerably excessive. My motives for journeying there are rumors of adventurous hiring opportunities. There is an old woman of extreme craftiness in this town, who requires ingredients of many sorts for her craftings. Far and wide, someone must search for her components.
Bingly: Ooh, I like it!
Dungeon Master: I, as well. 50 experience points!
Helsa: Is it more Dungeon Master experience points? Or this time actually for me?
Dungeon Master: That one.
Helsa: Thank you.
Dungeon Master: Now, input from Pilchard or Grolka. A one, two, or three equals Pilchard. The roll ... 4.
Pilchard: Boo.
Plummet: Don't boo, that's mean! I'm sure Grolka will have a great answer!
Grolka: Thank you.
Dungeon Master: Grolka too knows of the craftly old woman. There is rumor she demands many adventurers seek a special ingredient of her desiring. What is it?
Grolka: The ground-up bones of an ancient king. Mysteriously, his burial was in a far kingdom. No one knows exactly his whereabouts.
Dungeon Master: This information -- exceptional! 50 experience points! Now only Pilchard hasn't delivered information.
Pilchard: What should I deliver?
Dungeon Master: A page number for the monster that is attacking the wagon right now! With no looks in the book!
Plummet: Eek!
Pilchard: Isn't this an extremity of chance? What if I pick a page of outragously dangerous monster?
Dungeon Master: We will find out, if it happens. Choose!
Pilchard: Ugh. Page 86. No, page 42.
Dungeon Master: Hmm. It's a monster that is only far underground. Unlikely, except if the oldster drives his wagon into a giant, deep hole. Also, very likely to kill everyone due to powerful stats. Let's look at the earlier page. Even worse! Ancient Black Dragon! Ah, but the following page is a more humble monstrosity.
Pilchard: Whew.
Dungeon Master: I'm finding the encounters page in my Guide. How many of this humble monstrosity are needed? The table indicates ... hmn ... six of this kind, and three of this kind. Seems like a lot, but the table says it. Roll initiative!
Pilchard: Uff. 1.
Plummet: I get my Dexterity bonus, right? Oh, but it's a total of 6 anyway.
Grolka: 18. Looks like an orc is needed to protect you slugly ones.
Helsa: Also, a wood elf ranger, because I roll 19.
Rouge: Oh yeah? Then observe this tiefling rogue get ... 16. Dang, I wanted to be first!
Bingly: 18 for the wizard of halfling also.
Pilchard: We're so slow, Plummet.
Plummet: It's a family trait, seemingly.
Dungeon Master: From thick woods at each side of the road, blights appear! The whinny of horses has alerted you. Six are twiggish, and three are needly. They look like this!
Pilchard: The little ones are less scary, but the big ones have a look of pointy and dangerous.
Dungeon Master: First at initiative is Helsa. What do you do?
Helsa: How far away are they?
Dungeon Master: The distance is 60 feet to the ones on the right. Those are three of the twig sort and two with needles. The other side has three twiggish and one needly, about 30 feet from the wagon.
Helsa: I will use a Bonus Action to cast Hunter's Mark on one of the needle blights that are farther off. Then I'll fire my bow at it, but my total is 8.
Dungeon Master: Your arrow whisks by it. Next, Bingly or Grolka.
Bingly: I'll shoot at a close twig blight with my sling. Ergh, 1.
Grolka: Poor. Looks like it's up to the orc after all. I'm going to rage barbarically, then speed to the close needler and chop it two-handedly with my battle-axe. Am I close enough to do that?
Dungeon Master: Yes, if you succeed with a roll to Athleticsly leap over the high side of the wagon.
Helsa: A total of 20, which succeeds, assumingly. My attack is only a 2, though. 6 with my bonus.
Dungeon Master: Very, very missing. Rouge?
Rouge: I'll shortbow the one Grolka is missing so badly. Twang! Wow. We are terrible today. My roll is 9 total.
Dungeon Master: Next is Penny.
Pilchard: Plummet.
Plummet: Either one is accurate, actually! Um ... how close together are the ones in each bunch? I want to cast a spell that hits everyone in a 5-foot radius.
Dungeon Master: I will roll 1-3 for each side. Hmm. On each side, it's 3.
Plummet: Yay! My spell is Sleep. I'll do the ones farther away and hope Grolka won't be killed by twigs. They have to save using Wisdom or be Incapacitated for their turn. Also, it keeps going after that. They need a 13 or better.
Dungeon Master: Their savings excel! Only one twigger fails.
Plummet: Foo.
Dungeon Master: Now, the turn of blights! Twigsters are slow. Even dashing, the right side ones remain 20 feet away. The needlers there are 30 feet. One shoots needles at Helsa, another at Rouge. 17 against Helsa, 12 against Rouge.
Helsa: I am easily hit.
Rouge: Not me!
Dungeon Master: Damage is 5 points, Helsa. On the other side, the three clumped together must fight Grolka. Does 12 hit?
Grolka: No. Not especially close.
Dungeon Master: It's misses for all, then. The last twig dashes to reach the wagon. Pilchard may go!
Pilchard: I cast Witch Bolt on one of the right-side needlers. 22 total, so if it misses, there's big trouble.
Dungeon Master: It hits.
Pilchard: Then he is zapped for 8 points of damage, and I can keep zapping every turn without rolling to hit.
Dungeon Master: So mighty, this spell! Now, Helsa's turn once more.
Helsa: I'll shoot again with my bow. A different die, please? Thank you. And ... definitely another miss.
Bingly: Bingly fires his slingly at this close-up twig thing. Ooh, 15!
Dungeon Master: You hit the twig thing.
Bingly: Thing, meet sling! Max damage, too! But that's only 4.
Grolka: I attack the needle one again with my axe. Much better -- 22. I use my Savage Attacker feat for Advantage on my damage ... but it doesn't matter, because I roll 10 on both dice. That's 14 points of damage.
Dungeon Master: Significant! But still, it's fighting.
Rouge: I'm going to switch to shooting my bow at that one Grolka just hit. Whiff.
Dungeon Master: Penny can go.
Plummet: First, that sleepy one must save again or take an entire nap!
Dungeon Master: It falls to earth.
Plummet: Great! Then I'm using True Strike to smack the one Bingly just missed. Does 10 hit?
Dungeon Master: No. The creatures now can go. A needler shoots again at Helsa and another again at Rouge. Miss to both. Three twigs are now in the wagon! One strikes each wizard. Bingly, 10, Plummet, 23, Pilchard, 5.
Pilchard: Whew! Attack dodged!
Plummet: Well, it's an obvious hit on me.
Bingly: Also me.
Dungeon Master: Such poor Armor Classings! Damage is 4 to Plummet, 3 to Bingly.
Plummet: Owie!
Bingly: Same!
Dungeon Master: Both twigs hit Grolka, but the needler misses. Damage of 4 points plus 5 points.
Grolka: My rage gives Resistance to physical attacks, so the total has a reduction to 4.
Plummet: I want that!
Dungeon Master: Pilchard has now a turn.
Pilchard: 10 more points to the one I'm Witch Bolting.
Dungeon Master: It dies from such extreme bolting.
Pilchard: Next, I use Mind Sliver against the damaged twig in the wagon with us. It must Intelligently save or take 1d6. The roll needed is 14.
Dungeon Master: Unsuccessful.
Pilchard: 3 points of damage.
Dungeon Master: Now it is unsuccessful and dead. Helsa?
Helsa: Most likely, I'm going to miss with my bow again. No, an 18! With Hunter's Mark, the damage is 9.
Dungeon Master: Still, it lives. The turn is Grolka's.
Grolka: Here comes the axe again. Natural 20.
Dungeon Master: Already, it's so injured that survival is impossible. Bingly?
Bingly: Another staff attack ... 15! Damage is only 2, though.
Dungeon Master: Rouge?
Rouge: Back to shooting at the right-side needler. Also, back to missing.
Dungeon Master: Then Plummet may go.
Plummet: We're doing that True Strike thing again. If I can reach the one Bingly hit, that is my target for smacking. Lots better that time! 17! My damage is 7.
Dungeon Master: Death. The needler shoots at Helsa ... unfortunately, it is a 20 of the natural sort. 
Helsa: That's okay. At least if I never hit anything, my usefulness as a target is proven.
Dungeon Master: Damage of 14.
Helsa: My body collapses within the wagon.
Dungeon Master: Next turn begin the Saves against death! Pilchard?
Pilchard: Again, mind sliver. The Intelligence Save is 14.
Dungeon Master: Again, failure.
Pilchard: This time, damage is even worse. 1.
Helsa: My turn? I attempt to stave off death. My first is a failure. I belive the turn is Grolka's now?
Grolka: I crush my foes with my mighty axe. No, I fan them with my axe instead.
Bingly: One left in the wagon, right? I staff it. Hit! 6 points!
Dungeon Master: Zero left in the wagon now. Rouge's turn is available.
Rouge: Arrowing that last needler ... Yes! 22 to hit ... 9 damage!
Dungeon Master: Fatal. Plummet may go.
Plummet: I have a Cure Wounds spell! I'll use it on Helsa. 9 points of healing. Yay!
Helsa: I feel improved.
Dungeon Master: Twigs flee to escape. Even a twig may be cowardly when so many allies have died. 
Grolka: I get to chop at one for fleeing, correct? Again, a miss though.
Dungeon Master: Combat is over, unless someone chases twigs into the forest. 100 experience points to each!
Pilchard: I choose to avoid pursuit into shady woods.
Plummet: Seems like a poor choice to me also.
Grolka: It's hard to stay enraged after missing so many times. I return to the wagon.
Dungeon Master: The farmer proceeds, then. All may gain benefits from a Short Rest! Is this too short for a session, or should we stop?
Pilchard: I'm okay to stop. It was short, but fun. 
Plummet: Like you, Akane!
Grolka: It's a description fitting several individuals here.
Helsa: High praise to our Dungeon Master. My enjoyment more than sufficed.
Rouge: Yes!
Bingly: A good start for a campaign. I'm excited to meet the crafty woman next time. If we live all the way to Naplyville, of course.
Dungeon Master: It's a short trip, so there's likelihood. Also, 50 more experience points for all!

(There was general cheering for that, Readers. What will happen next time? We must await it and discover!)

(Update! No more awaiting needed! Click here!)

Dungeoning and Dragoning!

Readers!

Now is a tale of adventurers against peril! Monstrosities everywhere! Drunkardness in a village tavern!

It's a record of my first Dungeon Mastery ... probably this means inferiority to girlfriend Claire's many roleplaying posts on her blog, but Akane is bold! I must try this responsibility even with the chance of failing!

The first challenge for Dungeon Master Akane = revealing the story of character generating. It went so:

"Look!" says a boyfriend to several girlfriends. "A Monster Manual. It's new!"

"Ooh!" says girlfriend Ariel.

"Badass!" says girlfriend Sasha.

"Let me guess," says girlfriend Elle. "Now the new D&D books are all owned, so you want us to play. I am suspicious there will be mountains of monsters from that book to slay us."

Girlfriend Claire points out, "His face did have an expression so devious when I saw him read it earlier."

"No, no, no," insists the boyfriend. "So many years have passed since I playered a game of Dungeons and Dragons. Always it's DMing for me. I'd like a change."

"I Dungeon Mastered that Fivee game we played," says girlfriend Elle. Her blue eyes ... so narrow and pointed at the boyfriend! "I guess it was forgettable?"

"Elle, dear," says girlfriend Hettie, "of course this question is a suggest of falseness. You Dungeon Mastered with extreme success, but the game ended so momentarily. Only one session! Of course that doesn't satisfy the hunger for playering of our always-DMing boyfriend."

"Hmm."

(Notice the sound, Readers! It's so short, just three letters. Not even a vowel! How does girlfriend Elle say it so that it can mean so many different things? Sorry to interrupt. It's just braggery of her talent at "Hmm"ing.)

Wait ... where is the playing and Dungeon Mastery? Where is even the character generating? Akane! Your narration of Dungeoning and Dragoning is off to so slow a start. I'm the most apologetic, I promise. From here I will be speedier.

Our rolling method was full of danger! Usually, it's rolling six times and deciding, "This one's good, so I'm Strong! This one ... oof. A roll of poorness, so it goes in Charisma. Charisma = the garbage stat, so a bad one is fine. Two average ones ... Intelligence and Wisdom, because I intend a battler, not a thinker. That leaves a pretty-good and an even better for my Dextrous and Constitutional abilities."

(Why is Charisma a garbage stat? A boyfriend can't explain. It's just reflex from a D&D of historical age, he says.)

But instead of planning on a battler and picking abilities of might, or planning on a wizard and making Intelligence the most ideal roll, our choice was to roll the six stats in order and then pick what character sort might have this hodgepodge of scorings. 

Boyfriend was first. "7, 9, 14, 16, 11, 14. Weak and clumsy! Apparently it's a mage for me. What background would be fun for a mage? Aha, scribe! Now I can improve my Intelligence and Dexterity. Exceptional in smartness and no longer penalized with klutzing. Scribe, huh? He's a scribe who had aspiration to do wizardry, but also obsessed about writing. Cantrips include Light to always be able to see for writing and Message, even though that's speaking, not writing. First level spells ... obvious to have Detect Magic since it's his obsessive interest, Comprehend Languages to enable copying of books from any language, and Illusory Script because it's magical writing. Oh, and a couple of spells for fighting. Human, so I can get extra skills and a feat for extra skills as well. Name: Pilchard Plume."

Dice pass to girlfriend Ariel. "Oh no, 8! I'm an embarrassment of scrawny too! 13 a little better, though for Dexteriting. 11 is boring Con, 16 okay Intelligence, 13 decent Wisdom, Charisma is 10 so I guess that's fine if it's a garbage stat? No point in anything but a wizard, I guess. Wait! Don't think I'm copying you, boyfriend! I'll be a sage instead of scribing. Increases to Con and Int and Wis so they're 1 better each! Sage gets "Magic Initiate" of Wizardy ... I'll be so magical. Oh! And humans can pick any original feat, so human for me! (Still not copying you, boyfriend, don't think it!) What feat? "Magic Initiate" again! this time Bard. Not even starting with my actual wizard spells yet, and already I have 4 cantrips and 2 first levels! What's a cantrip again? Never mind, I'll just pick these ... and these ... and then for Wizard class these 3 more, plus 6 more first levels ... so many spells! Look at me! One of hers is "Feather Fall" from her Initiating, so she's good at falling. Surprise, boyfriend, now I'm copying you! Her name is Penny Plume! She's your sister because such weaklingness must be from being related. She has a nickname about falling, though -- Plummet Plume."

Girlfriend Elle becomes an orc of barbaric warrioring: Grolka Thickskull. Girlfriend Hettie, a wood elf ranger who decided to leave hermitage for rangering. She's Helsa the Homely because of an 8 in the garbage stat! Girlfriend Sasha decides to thieve for her class. She's a tiefling because it's so close to "thieving." Rouge Hornytail the Black! "She's Chaotic Chaotic in alignment," Sasha insists.

This leaves girlfriend Claire and girlfriend Akane. Our plan was ... everyone roll a character, then decide who is Dungeon Master. But Akane volunteers with bravery, so only Claire is left to roll.

"10, 11, 15, 15, 6 (!), 9. Holy smokery, that Wisdom is bad. Also poor in Charisma. There's no class that's mostly about Constitutionry, so you know what that means ... another Wizard!"

"We have so many ..." says girlfriend Ariel.

"This one is different!" says Claire. "Look, he's a merchant instead of a bookly sage or scribe. Instead of spells that are writerly like Pilchard or so many spells of usefulness like Penny, he picks spells he thinks sound cool. Charm Person! Disguise Self! Expeditious Retreat! Find Familiar! Tasha's Hideous Laughter and Tenser's Disk!"

Boyfriend asks, "What's he planning to use those for?"

"Look at his Wisdom! He's no planner, this guy. They're just cool. Except Find Familiar. He'll use that to pick even the coolest familiar. Which ones are allowed? Bat, Cat, Frog, Hawk, Lizard, Octopus -- wait right there! Octopus!"

"An octopus? On land?" asks girlfriend Hettie.

"He'll keep it in a jug of water when he summons it. Look: jug ... only 2 copper pieces! What a bargain!"

"How can it do familiar things inside a jug?" asks Elle.

"Who knows?" says Claire. "But it's an octopus, so it's cool! This wizard's a halfling too. Name of Bingly Bumbledeal."

Everyone becomes jealous of girlfriend Claire's insane octopus-having wizard.

"Actually really creative," says boyfriend.

"I bet the octopus is so cute," says Ariel.

"Yes. In fact, so cute it's required for Rouge to consider stealing it," says Sasha.

Next time, Readers, the adventuresome begins!

(Click here for this next time of adventures!)

So Many Changes in This Blog!

Readers, I know it's only a short time since the blog has changed. Please don't think, "This Akane ... she's always going to be changing it!" (It might be true, though. But I hope not. Hope with me!)

Only four posts have happened since I differented the blog from "Akane's Emails of Romance" to "Akane's Existence of Romance." I think they're good! 

"Then why change, Akane?" is probably being asked. So reasonable. I can't argue against it.

But ... all of Akane's girlfriends blog, about many different things. It's so full of enjoyment to read their varying topics! For some reason, I think this should be my goal too. Otherwise won't some say, "Tch-tch-tch. Another blogging about romance from Akane? Always the same, this blog. It's beginning to feel yawnable."

Plus, there's additional motive: what if always blogging about endless romance results in a grief of envy from those who have no romance of their own? It's kind of braggish for me to always write, "So romantic, my life!" isn't it?

Also, I am going to be Dungeon Mastering soon. It's true! You can read on girlfriend Claire's blog. The news is here! Probably our Dungeon and Dragoning will have not so much romance in it, so how else can I blog about it except with changing the blog title? It's fibbery to put a no-romance Dungeon and Dragoning post on a blog named "Akane's Existence of Romance." A crime of mislead!

Sorry for so many changes. I promise not to change it again until the next time I have such a good reason!

A Nap in a Boyfriend or Girlfriend's Arms ...

Sometimes, a day needs you to be lazy in it, yes? Many yawns and stretching, or blinking and shaking a head -- it's an indicator for ... napping!

Blinds must be pulled (unless it's so cloudy outside) before there can be burrowing into blankets.

A necessary nap = almost the best experience!

Better, though?

Napping in teams! A shoulder for a pillow! Hands touching with a caress of sleepy!

But remember an important rule that is the guardian of perfectness in this together napping ... no setting of alarms!

Alarms are the nap-destroyer. Intolerable!

A Secret!

Readers, do you know why this household of Akane and her yams contains so much happiness? (From reading this blog possibly you think, "It's because of so much romance, Akane!" But no, because sometimes everyone here is lazy and days go by without actions of romance. Passives of romance still exist, and are helpful for happiness-making, but more is needed than just that!)

I will tell you the secret: there is happiness because we choose to have it.

"Akane!" you say. "It's too simplistic! You are huckstering us with ideas that lack adequacy!"

Untrue, readers!

No matter how much romance exists in a household, no matter how much love, or how much entertainment, there can only be happiness if the householders choose it. There's no guaranteeing a feeling so contented just from romance or love or entertainment -- those are only Step A. Without Step B (choose to be happy!), Step A will never arrive at Step C (happiness!) ... strange but true.

Also true is this: so-so amounts of romance and love and entertainment are plenty for choosing happiness. You just have to do it!

And now ...

Ultimate Secret!!!

This happiness-choosing -- it's a practice-able skill! The more you chose it, the easier and easier choice happiness becomes. Eventually, even the smallest of romance and love and entertainments make the choice available.

But you have to always remember, or you stop doing it, and all your practice escapes like balloon air when you let the balloon go.

Try it!

I promise there is no hucksterism here!

So Many Years Already?

Readers!

Today the guardian of signage on warned me ... Akane! You must provide email or telephone for recovery. Otherwise, you could lose four years of email archivings!

Can it be already FOUR YEARS that I am living my life of perfected romance in America???

It seems so shortly ago that I arrived!

Still ... on another hand, there have been so many events since then ... anniversaries, birthdays, roleplaying games, bedtime activities ... when I think about these too many to count events, it has credibility to think it's four years, possibly.

Can anyone be so happy for so many years in a row without pausing? Other girlfriends think it's possible. Our boyfriend though ... sometimes a puddle of glumsomeness! Could six girlfriends be utilizing so much happy that there's insufficient for a boyfriend to have equal happiness?

Or, maybe it's just that the boyfriend has a job and reads news. What terrible inventions! A boyfriend with six such girlfriends and no reading of news or jobbery would obviously be constantly in a happy condition -- it's unavoidable. But someone invented news and jobs, so now girlfriends must work to prevent the gloom of a jobbing news-seeing boyfriend.

Still, it's a much happier predicament compared to a life of dodgery boyfriend after dodgery boyfriend in a so-small apartment in Japan.

May you all have as much luck as your devoted blog-author, Akane!