A Halfling had a horrible dream, chewed his pillow to bits. He heads down stairs and his wife asks "How are you feeling?". The Halfling replies, "Oh, a little drow in the mouth."
Help! I've been threatened by an evil in the north,
I think I need some help from a dwarf!
I realize they are kinda short,
so I best buy em by the quart!
You can get them in bulk by the wharf!
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valiculMember, Neverwinter Beta UsersPosts: 2Arc User
edited May 2013
A half-orc walks into a bar...Just kidding he was stuck in the door!
A robed figure arrives at the Neverwinter gates.
"Who are you?" The guard asked the mysterious body.
"Orc." He replies.
"Occupation?"
"No, just here for a few days."
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jadetoraMember, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Guardian Users, Neverwinter Knight of the Feywild UsersPosts: 116Bounty Hunter
edited May 2013
A session of roleplay with our character in Neverwinter yielded this gem from her;
"What's the good of having mastery over cosmic arcane forces and discerning the secrets of fate if you can't blow something up?!"
as well as;
"We stared into the Abyss! Haha! The Abyss waved back!"
and;
Kit: "UNDEAD! UNDEAD ERRYWHERE! We really hate Undead!"
Other Player: "Yea. Why's that? Their stench? Gross factor?"
Kit: "Haha! No, of course not! The dead really shouldn't kill the living!"
Other Player: "Why's that?"
Kit: "WE'D ALL BE VASTLY OUTNUMBERED!"
Player A: This is broken, and needs to be fixed. (now for where the problem comes in)
Player B: If you weren't such a(n) (insert random internet insult here), you wouldn't have any problems, it's just fine.
Dev: So we see there is a problem with this, so we're going to look into it.
Player A: I don't want to read about it, it should have been fixed before you released the game.
Player B: Again, there's nothing wrong with it that can't be fixed by L2P.
As you can see, this is the rough paraphrase of every single thread that has anything to do with any kind of game mechanic ever posted on the internet. Is it broken? Does it need to be fixed? It's hard to say. Somebody always counters the NBG by saying everyone should just roll Need, in order to cover their "need to sell it" rolls. I have seen one poster even state flat out that people that don't allow him to roll "need to sell it" on everything aren't really part of the community, but are simply being selfish. /boggle
This is why we can't get anything nice, nobody can decide what nice things we should have.
Reading comprehension is essential in a medium that requires reading for communication.
Elven Wizard: What? You don't have create water?
Dwarven Cleric: Aye lad, we have create beer.
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captgrizzMember, Neverwinter Beta UsersPosts: 12Arc User
edited May 2013
"Once a king, always a king. But once a knight is enough!"
Once I was Grizzlan, but I got promoted
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oren1233434Member, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Guardian Users, Neverwinter Knight of the Feywild UsersPosts: 0
edited May 2013
A GWF dies and is sent to Hell. Valindra meets him, shows him doors to three rooms, and says he must choose one to spend eternity in. In the first room, dwarfs are standing in **** up to their necks. The GWF says "no, let me see the next room." In the second room, rogues are standing with **** up to their noses. GWF says no again. Finally, Valindra opens the door to the third room. elves are standing with **** up to their knees, drinking coffee and eating danish pastries. the GWF says, "I pick this room." Valindra says okay and starts to leave, and the guy wades in and starts pouring some coffee. On the way out valindra yells, "O.K., coffee break's over. Everyone back on your heads!"
A valiant knight, against his better judgment, is talked into taking both his wife and her mother to one of his exploration conquests.
Alas, the journey fairs far worse than the knight expected. The mother-in-law, in fact, is even more ill tempered in the wilderness than she was in the fair city of Neverwinter.
"Thou wouldst been better married to a smith than a dim witted swordsman." the mother-in-law complained. "A true knight wouldst provided a mutton feast, fine ale and fresh vegetables for food; nay stale bread, water an' dried jerky" she continued. The mother-in-law griped on... and on... and on... and on... relentlessly. She refuses to heed his sound advice to keep quiet during their journey, thereby alerting monsters to their presence.
After camp is made for the evening, the valiant knight's wife realizes that her mother is missing. She begs her husband to immediately begin a search to find her.
He sighs heavily, and they both set out on a journey to find her. Before too long, they come to a small clearing and hear a menacing roar. The mother-in law stands face-to-face with a young red dragon, surrounded by large thickets which would be nearly impossible to escape through!
The valiant knight's wife is panicked and cries to her husband "What shalt we do to help?!?"
"Nothing," quips the valiant knight, "The dragon got himself into this mess, let's see him get out!"
Economic Bubble
Let's say thine life is worth as much as a castle. Thou shan't build more than that with own hands even putting thine life right? Not too wrong line of thinking it seem. Yet we have an evil known as currency. As much as it's complex Ye surely know that things got wrong with this thy moment Ye realize that the castle is worth as much as a street cat and so is thine life. And that's my friend an economic bubble
Rouge's line of work
As far as I recall in last 1000 years Rouges as commodity exceeded in assassination. I do not know why thou people say it's unfair nowadays. Unless thou want them to abandon this line of work. I admit some Rouges also made outstanding yeast-cakes in the past so I guess they'll be fine either way.
Merchants
Never believe merchants! They shall prove Ye that sack of salt is more priceless than a river of gold and next thing Ye shall be fighting demon lords of nine hells just to bring a few pockets of salt. At least that is how I recall my last meeting with a merchant.
"You stand as inspiration. You are practically the Avatar of Buttkicking." -Quote towards Minsc "I choose You Jymaru!" ~for there are times when more than words need to do the talk
Crew of a spaceship decide to play a game of Dungeons & Dragons on their downtime.
Captain Gym Clerk: Roll the dice, Jones.
Jones: Dammit Gym, I'm a doctor, not a Dungeons & Dragons Dice Dasher!
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tyroniuzozMember, Neverwinter Beta UsersPosts: 3Arc User
edited May 2013
One night there was a terrible shipwreck with the entire royal court even the court jester..... no one survived............the dead started washing up on the beach of a nearby goblin island ..... with a mouth full of court jester one goblin looks at another and says....does this taste funny to you?
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tyroniuzozMember, Neverwinter Beta UsersPosts: 3Arc User
(I don't expect everybody to read this, and I don't expect everybody to get this. But it was fun to write it in any case ^_^)
There was a war in the Underdark. A great invasion of the elves of the sun.
The drow prevailed, it was their world after all. But Gromph Baenre died. Menzoberranzan was left without an archmage.
Nobody left to light the Narbondel, nobody left to control the wizards of the majestic city.
Matron Baenre decided to hold a contest. The winner was to be integrated in the Baenre house and named archmage of Menzoberranzan.
The contest had three tasks, the first drow who completed them would win the title and benefits of the first male in the city. It was expected to last several years before one saw it through, but time was of little consequence to the dark elves.
A male from a lower house signed up for the contest. He was handed a note upon which the three tasks stood. First task: Recreate the magic that lights the Narbondel.
Second task: Obtain a magical instrument of legendary properties, comparable to the ones that dragons hide within their treasures.
Third task: Find the meaning of existence.
The drow knew it wouldn't be easy. But it was so much to hope for, a place of absolute power, answering only to the females, and not all of them at that. He was quite a skilled mage. He experimented for quite some time, though time was immeasurable since the loss of the Narbondel. He created heat spells, moving heat spells, spells that otherwise affected the sensitive eyes of the drow. He searched in great libraries, he even managed to procure a book of Gromph himself. After what seemed like an eternity, he did it. He called the priestesses in charge of the contest and showed them. A strip of gentle heat, slowly moving up the great stalactite. The first task had been done.
Setting out to search for magical materials, he started working on the second task. He talked to duergar and illithid, humans of the Underdark and other vile races. He fought some, he bargained with some, he threatened others. In the end, after searching for several dozens of cycles, all pointed to an ancient black dragon by the name of Saradiverous. He collected the best gear possible, he contacted the Bregan D'aerthe for mercenaries, and at last he set off. They faced the dragon. The great beast killed all of the hirelings, one by one. The drow himself lost a hand to the dragon's acidic breath. At that moment, unleashing any and all magical energy he had, he slew the beast in a maelstrom of pure arcane force. After straining himself so much, half-dead, he approached the enormous corpse. He rummaged the treasures below it, in search for one specific item. And he found it. A seemingly plain ring, this was one of the most powerful magical items of that time. Upon placing it on his finger, the drow's wounds mended, even his hand slowly grew back. As long as he wore this ring, he was immortal. When he showed it to the priestesses, he noticed a shine in their eyes, and he double-noted to never turn his back to them. They aknowledged the ring's power though, and the second task had been done.
The final task was the most difficult, to procure an acceptable answer to such a question...
It took all of his resources and most of his mental health, dealing with creatures from planes long-forgotten, creatures that fed upon one's very sanity. He asked them all, but not one slimy creature, not one walking mass, not one deadly shade knew the answer. After whole years of trying, he got nowhere. He was desperate for an answer, half-crazed he started asking drow on the streets, falling so low as to even ask kobolds and other slaves. Not one knew the answer. Finally, an old duergar slave approached him and told him a tale of old, of one ageless creature that knew all and watched all. The drow finally had a name: Xazzak. He prepared the most powerful ritual, memorizing spells that most had not heard of, setting up wards that a god couldn't break. He started chanting, carried on for hours, not missing a word, nor a gesture. He finished his mighty ritual with a shout: "--Xazzak!"
The thing appeared before him. Its shape was everchanging, taking forms strange and familiar, friendly and hostile, light and dark. His voice was changing too, and that made it difficult for the drow to comprehend its words. He underwent an enormous mental effort to keep his mind, or what was left of it, before some of the forms and voices and scents and sounds of the monster. He made out some of its words.
"WhaT DoO YoOu wAnNnt mORTaL?"
"Ancient one, a seek an answer long sought and never found. I want to know the meaning of all existence!"
"ThHiSssS Will cCosTt yoU dEArLy."
"Name your price, and I will pay it."
"My PRrrIce Iss yoUu. OnE PpIecE of MyselFF wIlL EenteR YoURr bOOdYy, To ObsErvEe aNd WatCh AnnD ExXIst. FoR AllL eTTerNitYy."
"Be it so. But you will give me my answer, the one and only answer I am seeking."
The thing thought for some hours, unmoving, untalking, but everchanging. At last, it shifted in its terrifying bulk.
"ThHe MmmEanInNg OofF ExxXIstEnCe Iis a RrivEr."
"A... river? Why is that? I mean, why is it not, say, a lake?"
The thing stopped talking. Stopped moving. Its neverending shapechanging slowed. After a while, it talked again.
"...yOoU... ThHink?"
Those poor Dragons or even The Beholders are nothing compared to the most dangerous menace Sword coast lives.
All the childerns run and cry desperatelly, and go enlisting bandits for only one reason.
They havent recerived a single present in their whole live and has no idea of Christmas spirit..
And you are wondering, why??? whats the cause of that desesperation??? why the childrens???
Easy, cuz they live in NEVER WINTER :cool:
Comments
I think I need some help from a dwarf!
I realize they are kinda short,
so I best buy em by the quart!
You can get them in bulk by the wharf!
Wizard: Just chilling.
"Who are you?" The guard asked the mysterious body.
"Orc." He replies.
"Occupation?"
"No, just here for a few days."
"What's the good of having mastery over cosmic arcane forces and discerning the secrets of fate if you can't blow something up?!"
as well as;
"We stared into the Abyss! Haha! The Abyss waved back!"
and;
Kit: "UNDEAD! UNDEAD ERRYWHERE! We really hate Undead!"
Other Player: "Yea. Why's that? Their stench? Gross factor?"
Kit: "Haha! No, of course not! The dead really shouldn't kill the living!"
Other Player: "Why's that?"
Kit: "WE'D ALL BE VASTLY OUTNUMBERED!"
A: "Halve" his salary.
Q: What do you call a half-orc?
A: If you don't want your brains splattered all around the Blacklake District, I wouldn't say anything.
Q: What did the Nasher Hexer say to the Nasher Recruit about Sergeant Knox?
A: His chances of seeing my men take the crown...is about 50/50.
Q: What did the adventurer do when he saw some flowers?
A: Better grab my nature's kit.
Player B: If you weren't such a(n) (insert random internet insult here), you wouldn't have any problems, it's just fine.
Dev: So we see there is a problem with this, so we're going to look into it.
Player A: I don't want to read about it, it should have been fixed before you released the game.
Player B: Again, there's nothing wrong with it that can't be fixed by L2P.
As you can see, this is the rough paraphrase of every single thread that has anything to do with any kind of game mechanic ever posted on the internet. Is it broken? Does it need to be fixed? It's hard to say. Somebody always counters the NBG by saying everyone should just roll Need, in order to cover their "need to sell it" rolls. I have seen one poster even state flat out that people that don't allow him to roll "need to sell it" on everything aren't really part of the community, but are simply being selfish. /boggle
This is why we can't get anything nice, nobody can decide what nice things we should have.
Very little.
Dwarven Cleric: Aye lad, we have create beer.
Once I was Grizzlan, but I got promoted
Alas, the journey fairs far worse than the knight expected. The mother-in-law, in fact, is even more ill tempered in the wilderness than she was in the fair city of Neverwinter.
"Thou wouldst been better married to a smith than a dim witted swordsman." the mother-in-law complained. "A true knight wouldst provided a mutton feast, fine ale and fresh vegetables for food; nay stale bread, water an' dried jerky" she continued. The mother-in-law griped on... and on... and on... and on... relentlessly. She refuses to heed his sound advice to keep quiet during their journey, thereby alerting monsters to their presence.
After camp is made for the evening, the valiant knight's wife realizes that her mother is missing. She begs her husband to immediately begin a search to find her.
He sighs heavily, and they both set out on a journey to find her. Before too long, they come to a small clearing and hear a menacing roar. The mother-in law stands face-to-face with a young red dragon, surrounded by large thickets which would be nearly impossible to escape through!
The valiant knight's wife is panicked and cries to her husband "What shalt we do to help?!?"
"Nothing," quips the valiant knight, "The dragon got himself into this mess, let's see him get out!"
One of them rolls 10 and gets hit by a lightning bolt
"I died!! How did I die?" He shouts
The other man says "Well that was a nasty shock wasn't it"
(such a bad joke)
Enemies jump down the edge by -self
Economic Bubble
Let's say thine life is worth as much as a castle. Thou shan't build more than that with own hands even putting thine life right? Not too wrong line of thinking it seem. Yet we have an evil known as currency. As much as it's complex Ye surely know that things got wrong with this thy moment Ye realize that the castle is worth as much as a street cat and so is thine life. And that's my friend an economic bubble
Rouge's line of work
As far as I recall in last 1000 years Rouges as commodity exceeded in assassination. I do not know why thou people say it's unfair nowadays. Unless thou want them to abandon this line of work. I admit some Rouges also made outstanding yeast-cakes in the past so I guess they'll be fine either way.
Merchants
Never believe merchants! They shall prove Ye that sack of salt is more priceless than a river of gold and next thing Ye shall be fighting demon lords of nine hells just to bring a few pockets of salt. At least that is how I recall my last meeting with a merchant.
WELCOME TO MY ART CORNER!
"I choose You Jymaru!" ~for there are times when more than words need to do the talk
Captain Gym Clerk: Roll the dice, Jones.
Jones: Dammit Gym, I'm a doctor, not a Dungeons & Dragons Dice Dasher!
There was a war in the Underdark. A great invasion of the elves of the sun.
The drow prevailed, it was their world after all. But Gromph Baenre died. Menzoberranzan was left without an archmage.
Nobody left to light the Narbondel, nobody left to control the wizards of the majestic city.
Matron Baenre decided to hold a contest. The winner was to be integrated in the Baenre house and named archmage of Menzoberranzan.
The contest had three tasks, the first drow who completed them would win the title and benefits of the first male in the city. It was expected to last several years before one saw it through, but time was of little consequence to the dark elves.
A male from a lower house signed up for the contest. He was handed a note upon which the three tasks stood.
First task: Recreate the magic that lights the Narbondel.
Second task: Obtain a magical instrument of legendary properties, comparable to the ones that dragons hide within their treasures.
Third task: Find the meaning of existence.
The drow knew it wouldn't be easy. But it was so much to hope for, a place of absolute power, answering only to the females, and not all of them at that. He was quite a skilled mage. He experimented for quite some time, though time was immeasurable since the loss of the Narbondel. He created heat spells, moving heat spells, spells that otherwise affected the sensitive eyes of the drow. He searched in great libraries, he even managed to procure a book of Gromph himself. After what seemed like an eternity, he did it. He called the priestesses in charge of the contest and showed them. A strip of gentle heat, slowly moving up the great stalactite. The first task had been done.
Setting out to search for magical materials, he started working on the second task. He talked to duergar and illithid, humans of the Underdark and other vile races. He fought some, he bargained with some, he threatened others. In the end, after searching for several dozens of cycles, all pointed to an ancient black dragon by the name of Saradiverous. He collected the best gear possible, he contacted the Bregan D'aerthe for mercenaries, and at last he set off. They faced the dragon. The great beast killed all of the hirelings, one by one. The drow himself lost a hand to the dragon's acidic breath. At that moment, unleashing any and all magical energy he had, he slew the beast in a maelstrom of pure arcane force. After straining himself so much, half-dead, he approached the enormous corpse. He rummaged the treasures below it, in search for one specific item. And he found it. A seemingly plain ring, this was one of the most powerful magical items of that time. Upon placing it on his finger, the drow's wounds mended, even his hand slowly grew back. As long as he wore this ring, he was immortal. When he showed it to the priestesses, he noticed a shine in their eyes, and he double-noted to never turn his back to them. They aknowledged the ring's power though, and the second task had been done.
The final task was the most difficult, to procure an acceptable answer to such a question...
It took all of his resources and most of his mental health, dealing with creatures from planes long-forgotten, creatures that fed upon one's very sanity. He asked them all, but not one slimy creature, not one walking mass, not one deadly shade knew the answer. After whole years of trying, he got nowhere. He was desperate for an answer, half-crazed he started asking drow on the streets, falling so low as to even ask kobolds and other slaves. Not one knew the answer. Finally, an old duergar slave approached him and told him a tale of old, of one ageless creature that knew all and watched all. The drow finally had a name: Xazzak. He prepared the most powerful ritual, memorizing spells that most had not heard of, setting up wards that a god couldn't break. He started chanting, carried on for hours, not missing a word, nor a gesture. He finished his mighty ritual with a shout: "--Xazzak!"
The thing appeared before him. Its shape was everchanging, taking forms strange and familiar, friendly and hostile, light and dark. His voice was changing too, and that made it difficult for the drow to comprehend its words. He underwent an enormous mental effort to keep his mind, or what was left of it, before some of the forms and voices and scents and sounds of the monster. He made out some of its words.
"WhaT DoO YoOu wAnNnt mORTaL?"
"Ancient one, a seek an answer long sought and never found. I want to know the meaning of all existence!"
"ThHiSssS Will cCosTt yoU dEArLy."
"Name your price, and I will pay it."
"My PRrrIce Iss yoUu. OnE PpIecE of MyselFF wIlL EenteR YoURr bOOdYy, To ObsErvEe aNd WatCh AnnD ExXIst. FoR AllL eTTerNitYy."
"Be it so. But you will give me my answer, the one and only answer I am seeking."
The thing thought for some hours, unmoving, untalking, but everchanging. At last, it shifted in its terrifying bulk.
"ThHe MmmEanInNg OofF ExxXIstEnCe Iis a RrivEr."
"A... river? Why is that? I mean, why is it not, say, a lake?"
The thing stopped talking. Stopped moving. Its neverending shapechanging slowed. After a while, it talked again.
"...yOoU... ThHink?"
All the childerns run and cry desperatelly, and go enlisting bandits for only one reason.
They havent recerived a single present in their whole live and has no idea of Christmas spirit..
And you are wondering, why??? whats the cause of that desesperation??? why the childrens???
Easy, cuz they live in NEVER WINTER :cool:
Sold no one ever.
-for the orcs the goblins are smart and dangerous rivals
-for our party they are around 45 XP