Test Drive Meme

[ho_mods]

Test Drive Meme

Prompts

1. Ye Olde Tavern - Pull up a chair, stranger. Have a pint. Try the lamb stew! Inns and taverns are the most common way for strangers on an adventure to meet, whether they're on the road to find the next quest, or someone looking for a job (hopefully one that involves annihilating monsters). And if all else fails? BAR FIGHT!

2. Here Be Goblins - Beginning adventurers find goblins to be one of the first monsters they can fight without getting brutally murdered, though veterans might find them to be too weak. Don't underestimate these wily and nasty little fiends! They might not be smart, but there's a LOT of them in this cave, and it reeks of goblin even twenty feet away.

3. Town Festival - What luck! Stopping in this quaint little hamlet to restock on gear and supplies, you're just in time to join the party. It could be a celebration of the recent harvest, a chance to honor a hero of old (maybe your ancestor!), or the local rich guy just decided he wanted to throw a party and rolled out the kegs into town square. Eat! Dance! Fun!

4. Dungeon Crawl - Each dungeon has its own smell...mold, dust, rot, sulfur... None of them fall into the 'pleasant' category. Bring torches, weapons, and wits! You'll need all of these things to find treasure / slay evil creatures / avoid dangerous traps / accidentally unseal a force of evil.

5. So You Accidentally Unsealed a Force of Evil - A nefarious cult has all the ingredients they need to perform an unholy ritual to loose a great demon/god/asshole into the world, and need just one more thing: blood! YOURS! Or your friend's! Or a helpless villager! Only you can stop them. Or maybe you were just too damn late and there goes that evil demon/god/asshole wreaking havoc left and right. Someone should do something about that.

6. So You Successfully Stopped a Force of Evil - You and your teammates have emerged from the cave to see the sun rise. Or beheaded a despot. Or rescued a fishing crew from a horrible sea monster. The point is, you won! What now? Wash off the grime and take a nap? Test out the new magic weapon you found? Brag to that cute adventurer and impress them into dating you? Drink? Drink.

7. Inconvenient Weather - Sometimes the elements just don't want a hero to do the hero thing. There's a raging lightning storm, or a fierce blizzard, or blistering heat... Whatever it is, the smart thing to do is take shelter. Duck into a cave and dry off. See if the inn has any vacancies (or if they'll let you sleep in the hayloft). Set up camp in a magical pocket dimension.

8. Never Get on the Boat - Every seasoned adventurer knows better than to board any sea-faring vessel, lest their bored DM have an excuse to roll out all the horrible aquatic monsters and wait for you to fail your Swimming skill check. But here you are anyway, getting on that ship to fight pirates, find the cursed island, or maybe just catch a really delicious fish. Everyone needs their ocean adventures.

9. Mix It Up! - Randomly select two of the options above and somehow make them fit into one prompt. Be daring! Be bold! Be wild!

Comments

[mannix]

"(That explains.)" The deity, he means. He remembers a small passage about a mythical time when the lizardfolk's deities were two. No wonder this one is so civilized, if he comes from the other side of that dualism.

He tensed at the insinuation of "shield." Was the situation so dire? He scanned the room again, sensing that now others are as uneasy as he was. Strange language, strange persons, the tension of explicit humor and implicit threat. Calm sounded like a welcome remedy. He went back to Common.

"Thank you for your hospitality. Let's repair to your table, and let other adventurers have this one until I'm ready to join their ranks."

If nothing else he felt sorry for the two inches away from a headlock. He nodded and got down, letting Goroket clear the path. He could feel the eyes of many on his back, and he hoped that time would smooth his presence so that his desire for adventuring companions might bear fruit.

Another piece of communal wisdom lit his mind: find points in common.

"We both walk barefoot", he noted. "Do you serve under the Knowledge Domain too? That's mine. Are you a male of your species? I am."

As he got to the tabletop, a heavenly waft from the leftover stew raised a prescient inequality and his most pressing question yet.

"Are you finished with that?"

[kecuala]

It was, Goroket thought, probably the better choice. He did not care to use his advantaged position of size and strength to put pressure on the decisions of one who needed aid, and so did not say this, but it was in his thoughts. Rowdy, ungentle drunks who had already been poking and manhandling a tiny being to show off for their friends seemed like an accident waiting to happen, above and beyond the bullying. And so he turned his huge head amiably towards one of the men at his side, and just as amiably said: "As our new friend says, he and I will go and talk for a while. I hope we can share drinks another time."

The man nodded quickly. Goroket patted them both on the back, turned, and lumbered once more in the direction of his table, paying no more mind to the eyes upon them than a mountain might. After all, they were all friends. All. Friends.

He good-naturedly endured the flurry of questions as they went, and grinned most widely (though less toothily than before) at the last of those. "What I have, I give. It would be a poor offering for a larger guest, but what luck - for the guest I invite today, it is a good amount." Indeed, they could probably feed at least a second mouse while they were at it.

"To answer the rest, yes, I too am male." He didn't mind the question; it wasn't the first time. "And I am not a Knowledge priest, though there are those in Kecuala's service, and I am warm in my heart that an outsider knows at least that much. My devotion is the path of the Forge, a place of shaping and purification, though I did not wear my war-gear today."

He was dressed quite plainly, and there was only that hand axe at his belt, its blade carefully fitted with a sheath. Of course, no lizardfolk was ever really unarmored. Or unarmed.

[mannix]

Oh, thank Good's good providence! Intemperately he'd chewed through his rations, and didn't like the idea of searching for scraps. How he missed warm, or at least lukewarm, meals. Mannix immediately dug in, stuffing his cheeks.

Between bites he continued to ponder. The Forge domain was a fearsome one; it brought to mind the Heat Metal spell and what disaster it'd be if used by an enemy. Should he wear hide armor instead? Then again, where would he find one to make such small barding?

While he's wondering, he has to wonder about Goroket's words. "You called me 'friend' back there. You said the same for the two men who seemed strangers. What do you mean by that word?" It couldn't have been the normal usage; that implied familiarity and equality. Was it a Lizardfolk nuance?

Once he'd gotten an answer there, he'd keep looking for more. Such is the way of Knowledge clerics and their endless questions. Or perhaps it's just mousey curiosity. "Have you...often made use of your war-gear?"

[kecuala]

Goroket sat with his arms loosely folded in front of him, supporting his weight as he leaned slightly forward on the table. Now that people were starting to go back to their conversations, it helped to keep his head somewhat closer to (though not quite at) his guest's level. He was not hard of hearing, but a mouse's voice was of course a bit small for a noisy room.

"Ahh," he said, in the tone of one grinning widely, though again he did not show quite so many teeth. "This is...I will not say difficult to translate, because it is not a matter of Common and Draconic. But some faithful say to one another 'mother' and 'father' though they are not, yes? Brother, sister. 'My child.' Not blood, but like. And to say 'hello, sister' reminds the speaker and the spoken-to of the views they should hold in their hearts."

"I follow the way of the Forge, and in the name of Kecuala it is more than metal and flame. A weak link breaks the strongest chain, yes? A group of people is like this also. It must all hold together. And so I say 'friend, friend.' I remind myself. I remind others. And if I say 'friend' and another sees they have not acted as a friend should, perhaps they will fortunately mend their ways." Even if he must make them a little nervous to help the process along.

"Other times, not so fortunate. My war-gear has seen much use, yes." The big priest's eyes are a fiery orange color, though they have the look of sleepy embers as they thoughtfully observe the hungry mouse. "And your armor, Mannix of The Good? What has it seen?"

[mannix]

Ever the prey animal, Goroket's nearer presence made Mannix subconsciously shrink. He could not help but mind Lizardfolk's tendency for biting, however remote the possibility. The constant suppression of fear is his cross to carry. Thankfully, the conversation turned theological and cerebral; his favorite balm against bodily fear.

"Oh, though--in The Church, at least--they are. When we say 'sister' or 'brother' to one another, we refer to a unity of spirit, which is deeper than blood. Thus we speak a greater relation.

I see. You spoke not of an 'is', but an 'ought.'" He paused to consider the implications.

"...I have read that friendship means concordant wills, and a happiness that enables virtue to flourish through mutual beneficence, and being closer than blood-brotherhood." Shyly, thoughtfully, he took inventory. Were the monks his friends? If so, they were very distant ones, whose walks of life had turned drastically different. He forced himself to look at one of another faith, and asked, "is that what you wish with me?"

It was strange to think such a deep bond could come so soon. Then again, his master assured him that, if he is faithful, he will receive all he needs.

Like, perhaps, advice. His posture and his heart sank a little as he replied, "Only my fur and my habit. I have never fought." Indeed, he'd spent all his life with those who were the picture of peace. To go from that to preparing to hurt and kill was almost anathema to his core.

"...And you have. How...how do you...do that?" Eloquence failed him. The Church may have frowned upon seeking aid from one belonging to a heathen faith about faith's hard practice. Nonetheless, he was new and unsure, whereas Goroket could speak from experience. Something Mannix sorely lacked.

[kecuala]

Is and ought. It was a good way to put it, he thought to himself, and nodded slightly in the moment of that pause. One could describe the whole of Kecuala's priesthood with that distinction, really: the observing, preserving lore-priests were what-is, and the active craftsmanship of the self and society, the forge-priests, were what-ought. Goroket himself was even more what-ought than most - and then the mouse making a fortunate meal out of his table scraps shyly asked him if that was what he wished, and with an untroubled look in the embers of his eyes and no hesitation whatsoever he answered: "Certainly it is."

As far as he was concerned, it really was that easy. Or ought to be, which to him amounted to the same thing. As to the rest-

"Ah," he said again, this time without grinning at all, though his mood was quiet rather than stern. "Well...even the Bitten River people still live close with death. It is familiar, like rain. What we farm and fish we kill. Sometimes we must fight wild beasts, or other tribes. So while there is no joy in my heart to do it, it is familiar. And when there is a choice of futures to be forged by my hands, and one is far worse, I find that it is also not difficult."

"If either the highwayman or his victim must die, if I am either responsible for his death by my action or his victim's by my inaction, I will strike the highwayman dead. But if I need only hurt him very badly, then at least he may live. And if I need only hurt him a little, then at least he is not hurt very badly. And if I need not hurt him at all-" (here the grin returned) "-then that is a good day."

[mannix]

Mannix nodded slightly, wishing he could share Goroket's lightness. Then again, if any race lacked softness about the subject, it would be Lizardfolk. He knew that he'd learned how to wield Sacred Flame for good reason. Perhaps a metaphor a forge cleric would like might help?

"...perhaps an untried spirit is like an unmade blade. What was once warm and pliant is, through many blows, hardened and cooled till it is fit for its design."

He stared blankly for a few moments, then strove to talk and think of something happier.

"I...wish that too." Partly due to small land mammals' constant desire for allies and resources. Partly due to what he's read. Old philosophers described friendship as, after religious ecstasy, the greatest happiness mortals could hope to have. And Mannix takes what he reads very seriously. Especially the part about "concordant wills".

"Will you convert? I know all theological essentials. I can't initiate you, but could well lead you to one who could..." He started out very enthusiastic, for he'd never entertained the possibility. Gradually his naivete receded until cold reason told that it wouldn't be so easy. Even Mannix knew how difficult capturing the soul of an outside priest would be. Still, The Church demanded evangelism, and Mannix obeys.