From Daddy Warpig on Gab:

Dungeon Master (to our Bard):   The six cultists shove you to the ground, bow to the massive green dragon, and say, “Oh great one, we have brought you this gold and this human sacrifice as tribute to your greatness.  Please accept our offering.”

Rest Of Party, looking on from a distance:  S***.  He’s dead.  He’s so dead.  RIP Edward.

DM:  The dragon thanks the cultists and asks if you have any last words.

Bard:  I look up at the dragon and say, “I have brought you this gold and these six cultists as tribute to your greatness.”

Rest Of Party:  OH S***!

DM, who was clearly not expecting that:  . . . Roll persuasion.

Bard:  17.

DM:  The dragon says, “I like you.  Duck.”

Bard:  . . . I duck?

DM:  The dragon incinerates the cultists with his poison breath and leaves you alive, flying off with his treasure.

Bard:  Oh my G*d.  I thought I was dead.

DM:  Honestly?  So did I.

Someone has fast, well-developed D&D reflexes!



  1. SNORT!!!! Oh, that was a good laugh.

    OMG, a Bard having a last word? What could possibly go wrong? Be glad the DM didn't say "Good night, Duck."

    Reminds me of a game I played once, where an unfortunate turn of phrase had someone's fighter polymorphed into a platypus ("Duck, Bill!"). That took a month of ill feelings to calm down, after a delayed dispelling.

  2. That. Was. Awesome. Bard just knocked it out of the park.

    My damn DM had to be forced to alternate Pepsi with his Bitburger Pils, otherwise the game went totally off the rails.

    Wandering Neurons

  3. Hey Peter;

    I remember stuff like that back when I played D&D in the 80's, Man those were good time, LOL. Thanks for the memories

  4. Gotta say, even a non-gamer like myself has to get a sincere guffaw or two out of that one –

    Well-played, young man, well-played indeed…

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