I whisper your name (ayradyss) wrote,
I whisper your name

  • Mood:


  • Me: Jeff, you are not allowed to flame better than the gay boy.

  • Me: I want my character sheet!
    Erica: I want a hug. We all have problems.

  • Jefe: Can I have skills please?

  • GM: Johann will be with you shortly.
    Erica: We're in a Swedish town, apparently.
    GM: Eh, 'oser...(beat) oh, wait. That's Canadian.

  • Me: Former shiner.
    Mike: She lost the fez.

  • Bri: 5'9", 105 lbs.
    Me: 5'9", 110. It's the cup size.
    Jefe: They're a cup size apart. Me, I have no cup size. I wear a cup.

  • James: He looks sturdy for an elf.
    Bri: Dwarf.
    James: Dwarf. Be a fuck of a sturdy elf.

  • GM: Our page Jeremy will take you to the sewers, and run any errands you need done. Last will and testament, that sort.

  • The pizza order, written on the whiteboard: 1 lg. grilled chicken alfredo. 1 large extra-cheese, 1 large pepperoni, 2 orders cheesesticks, oral sex.

  • Me: Can I buy a rock with Continual Light cast on it?
    Mike: I can do the casting.
    Me: I have a rock.
    Mike: What do I get for it?
    Me: I don't have much to offer.
    Mike: How about services?
    Me: Define "services".
    Mike: I'm lonely...
    Me: I think I'll go buy a rock.
    Mike: You go do that.

  • GM: Nykki, you would recognise these as ghouls. (he reads a description)
    Erica: Oh, they're concentration camp victims...

  • Jefe: Do I need real weapons to hurt them, or can I just pound them into submission?

  • Me (We're in single file, behind the monk. who's the only one seeing any combat action.): I poke the person in front of me lightly in the back with my rapiers. "Pass it on."

  • GM: The bard begins to sing...
    Jefe: La, la-la...
    GM: Only better than that.
    Me: And in a higher key.
    Mike: It's the butch lesbian bard of the group...

  • Erica: I think I'm going to poke the dwarf in the back, because the bard is singing in my ear.

  • Jefe: The butch lesbian wants to see the dwarf go between the monk's legs...
    Bri: I am not a butch lesbian. It's my character...

  • Jefe: That's just the way it is, Glittertits.

  • James: I don't care about pushing him out of the way. I'm strong and I'm small, I'll push him the fuck down.
    Erica: You could bite his kneecaps...

  • Me: Next tunnel, I'm in front.
    James: No, I'm in front.
    Mike: Yeah, because the normal people can reach over your head.

  • GM: And the ghoul goes into the tunnel after the dwarf... (rolls)...and gets stuck.
    Erica: It's a fat ghoul.
    GM: I wasn't this big in life...

  • James: I can look at it and it goes squoosh.
    GM: Unless you roll a 1.
    James (rolls and looks at dice): Shut up.

  • GM: I'm shorting the dwarf.

  • GM: If it's made to slash—
    Me: Bug!

  • Mike (at the back of the line): I don't suppose there's any way I can get a clear shot with a crossbow from here?
    Everyone: Augh!
    GM: Define "clear shot".

  • Me: I'm behind the dwarf. Am I second or third?
    GM: Third.
    Someone: Because the monk's determined to die.
    Jefe: Yes. Yes, he is. (Note: He did, later.)

  • Erica: I'm sorry, the fighter is lazy.

  • Jefe: I'm going after that which stinks, because it offends me.

  • Jefe: I'm immune to diseases. Except magic ones.
    GM: Lycanthropy. Mummy rot.
    Mike: Gonorrhoea.
    GM: Gonorrhoea +1.

  • Jefe: You know, high-level monks can whore like nobody's business.

  • Someone: Can she sing and hit him?
    GM: Yes.
    Me: Ta-ra-ra-BOOM-de-ay!
    Jefe: You will get backhanded in key.

  • Jefe: Why are elves immune to this form of paralysis?
    GM: Because it says so in the book.

  • Erica: Are we all still stuck in this damn tube?
    GM: Yes, except Jeff.
    Jefe: I'm paralysed.
    Erica: You're busy being gimpy now.

  • GM: You have to tap them with your wand. It's touch.
    Mike (gestures obscenely): Wooh! Woooh!
    Jefe: Do not anal rape the monk.
    Mike: You're paralysed, what can you do about it?

  • Erica: It (the ghast) looks gimpy.
    GM: They looked gimpy to begin with.
    Erica: It's a side effect of being undead.

  • GM: Make me a Fort save, DC 15.
    Me: Nope.
    Jefe: Stab, stab, stab-stab-stab-vomit.

  • Bri: I'm going to cast a spell.
    GM: What kind of spell?
    Bri: You would ask that, wouldn't you?

  • Me: If you have more than one nose, do you take a penalty to your Fort save?

  • Me: Bri is my butch lesbian stunt double today.
    GM: I missed something while I was paying attention to the game...

  • GM: ...plus a d6 for the flaming.
    Jefe: Because being a gay man is worth a d6.

  • Mike: Isn't a holy flaming sword a contradiction in terms?
    GM: It's a very open church.

  • James: Bri, is Jeff's ass as squeezable as it looks?

  • James: Not a three again...(rolls) Fuckin' son of a bitch...it's a three.
    GM: Use a different die.
    James: I did.
    GM: You still drop it.

  • Mike: Holy shit, I hit something. Bet that surprised the hell out of it.
    GM: Pretty much.
    Mike: The mage hit it. Max damage, too.

  • Erica: Are you really supposed to be clawing at the guy's head like that?

  • Me: Then I yank the stick out of my ass and thank the monk.
    GM: Spank the monk?

  • Me: Fifteen.
    Jefe: Fifteen.
    Bri: Twenty-one.
    Erica: Fifteen.
    Mike: Fifteen.
    James: Six.
    GM: I don't believe this. The zombies go before all of you except Bri.

  • Erica: You people are enjoying your cleavage, aren't you?
    Mike: Cleavage was meant to be enjoyed.

  • GM: You land in a lake.
    Me: How big is the lake?
    Mike: How deep is the lake?
    Erica: Can anyone else swim?

  • Jefe: The monk's first priority is to get to the shore, where the big snake is not. See, he has priorities. Life - booty. Life - booty.

  • Jefe: I go, "That's a damn big snake. Move!"

  • Me: Do you have knowledge: water rescue?

  • GM: You're now down to four flailing zombies.
    Me (singing): Four flailing zombies, three french hens, two turtle doves, and a necromancer in a pear tree.
    Amended by Jefe to "french elves" and "turtle dwarves".

  • GM: The Cavalier next to you starts to drown.
    Bri: I dive in after her, because it'll make me look better in the tale. (rolls) Or I'll join her. "Hey, looks like fun."

  • James: I know you can heal now.
    Mike: It depends on if I want to.
    James: I'm going to tell you to stand behind me and tap me in the ass with that wand while I kill it.

  • Me: What's permanently sealed shut? Its ass?
    GM: Its eyes. Its eyes are sealed shut.

  • James: Can I just sink to the bottom and take the two steps it would take to get me to breathing area?

  • Jefe (to Bri): I'm just going to forbid you to wear clothes when you're over here.

  • GM: Does a 20 hit you?
    Jefe (cringing): No? ...Yes. Can I deflect arrow? (note that it's a Cave Wyrm attacking)
    GM: That'd be like deflecting a ballista.

  • Me: I continue to swear at it in Elven.
    Jefe: Your mother was an earthworm.
    Erica: And your father smelt of elderberries.

  • Mike: I have rope.
    Me: I have rope too.
    A chorus of "I have rope too."
    Mike: We're the bondage party.

  • Mike: I'm a half-thrykreen.
    GM: What's the other half?
    Mike: Human!
    James: My, your skin's looking awful chitinous today.

  • GM: These are bronze doors, bowing outward, and there's a tiny trickle of water seeping out from them.
    Everyone: We go the other way.

  • Me: 25.
    Jefe: 25.
    GM: Go. (We roll, hit, roll.)
    Jefe: 31 damage.
    Me: 31 damage.
    GM: You...drop them both. That was anticlimactic.

  • Mike: Cast Enlarge and Grease and go at it.

  • Me: Ain't no bitch-ass skeletons hittin' me...

  • Jefe (clutching his toe): Owwww!
    Me: Did I do that?
    Jefe: Owwww!
    Me (quietly): Sorry.

  • Jefe: I am a bashing weapon.

  • Mike: So how's that skeleton look?
    GM: Pretty dinged up.
    Mike: For a skeleton?
    GM: For a skeleton.

  • Jefe (to Erica): Now would be a good time to do that Whirlwind Attack.

  • Jefe: I will pull the sword out of the dessicated corpse.
    Erica: You wash your hands after you do that.

  • Me: I do the holy people dance.

  • Jefe: Dude, I didn't just die, I gruesome-died!

  • Jefe: Oh, Jesus God. Those aren't toes...
    Bri: Cold.
    Jefe: I know!

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