Finntroll - Vaetteanda

FINNTROLL. “VAETTEANDA” FROM MIDNATTENS WIDUNDER.

26 plays

APPARENTLY I’M GOING TO BE WORKING IN THE WRITING CENTER DURING MY NEXT TWO YEARS OF COLLEGE.

THIS IS NOW GOING TO BE A THING

I SO ENJOYED MOCKING THAT LETTER TO THE DRAGON MAGAZINE FORUM THAT I CREATED A SIDE BLOG DEDICATED TO DOING MORE OF THE SAME: DUMBASSED-DRAGON-FORUM.TUMBLR.COM

(UNPOPULAR D&D OPINION WARNING: I AM ABOUT TO SAY SOME SHIT THAT IS INTENDED TO BE FUNNY BUT I’M ALSO HOPING THAT IT DEEPLY, SWORD-OF-WOUNDINGLY BUTTHURTS SOME FELLOW DM OR PLAYER. PROCEED.)

PLAYERS AND EVEN SOME DMs HAVE BEEN MAKING THESE KINDS OF DUMBASS ARGUMENTS FOR A LONG TIME (THE ABOVE LETTER WAS PUBLISHED IN DRAGON MAGAZINE #180, APRIL 1992, FORUM, PP. 37-38), AND IT MAKES ME CRINGE EVERY TIME. “A CLEVER DM COULD HANDLE THIS EPIC GOD ADVENTURE.” BUT WHAT’S THE POINT? WHAT WOULD A GOD—ANY GOD—HAVE TO SAY TO SOME CHUMP WHO WAS UP UNTIL LAST TUESDAY NAUGHT BUT A MERE HUMAN, OR HALFLING OR HALF-ORC OR HALF-DUGONG MERMAN OR WHATEVER THE NEWLY ASCENDED PLAYER CHARACTER IS? WHAT ARE THE SUPERIOR GODS OF THE PANTHEON GOING TO SAY TO THIS SWAN-STAIN? AND THE EVEN MORE FUNDAMENTAL QUESTION IS, WHAT KIND OF ADVENTURES COULD A GOD POSSIBLY ENJOY?

THIS IS HOW I IMAGINE A GAMING SESSION OF GOD-CHARACTERS:

DM: “YOU ENCOUNTER A RIVAL GOD. IT HAS A BILLION ARMS AND IT SHITS LIQUID NITROGEN. WHAT DO YOU DO?”

PLAYER: “I USE MY GOD POWERS TO CREATE A BLACK HOLE IN ITS ANUS.”

DM: [ROLLING SHIT-TONS OF DICE]

DM: [CALCULATING]

DM: [CALCULATING]

DM: “YOUR BLACK HOLE INFLICTS SIXTY-THREE THOUSAND NINE-HUNDRED AND TWO POINTS OF SUCTION DAMAGE TO THE LINING OF THE RIVAL GOD’S ANUS, CAUSING A TEMPORARY LOCALIZED RUPTURE IN THE ANAL FABRIC OF SPACE-TIME. UNFORTUNATELY, SINCE THE RIVAL GOD IS A BEING OF COMPARABLE DIVINE POWER TO YOUR OWN GOD-CHARACTER, IT SUFFERS NO DAMAGE WHATSOEVER, EXCEPT FOR THE LITTE FART OF LIQUID NITROGEN THAT JETS OFF INTO THE VOID LIKE SOME SHIT THE HUBBLE TELESCOPE WOULD PHOTOGRAPH AND AFTER THREE BILLION YEARS THE GOOEY JIZZY GOD-FART WARMS JUST ENOUGH TO GIVE RISE TO A PRIMITIVE RACE OF BUG-EYED LIZARD PEOPLE WHO EVENTUALLY, GIVEN ENOUGH FOOD, WILL FIND NEW WAYS TO SCREW EACH OTHER WITH NUCLEAR WEAPONS.”

PLAYER: “DAMN. I SHOULD HAVE TRIED TO BANISH IT TO THE SOMBRERO-SHAPED UNIVERSE MY CHARACTER CREATED JUST BEFORE THE ENCOUNTER.”

DM: “CAN WE JUST STOP AND PLAY SOMETHING ELSE NOW, PLEASE?”

EVEN BETTER, THE LETTER WRITER’S FINAL PROCLAMATION “I WILL STILL BEGIN ADVENTURES OF THIS GRAND SCALE,” SUGGESTS TO ME THAT HE HAD ALREADY TRIED TO RUN A CAMPAIGN IN WHICH HIS PLAYERS COULD BE GODS, AND IT DIDN’T WORK AND EVERYONE GOT BORED AND DECIDED TO GO TO THE ARCADE AT THE MALL (1992 WAS BACK WHEN MALLS OFTEN HAD ARCADES), AND THE GUY’S EGO WAS MORTALLY WOUNDED SO HE SHOT OFF THIS LETTER TO THE ULTIMATE AD&D AUTHORITY AT THE TIME, WHICH FOR SOME REASON CHOSE TO PUBLISH THE DELUSIONAL MANIFESTO THAT I AM MAKING FUN OF AT 3:40 IN THE MORNING, TWENTY-TWO YEARS AND FOUR MONTHS AFTER ITS PUBLICATION.

I GUESS SOMEONE DIDN’T LIKE HOW I TOLD THAT D&D BOOK WHAT I THOUGHT OF ITS ADVICE.

THIS MAKES SO LITTLE SENSE. HOW HARD IS IT TO DIFFERENTIATE BETWEEN MONSTERS INTOLERANT OF SALT WATER AND THOSE INTOLERANT OF FRESH WATER? SURE, THE SCYLLA AND THE LEVIATHAN AND YES, EVEN ABOLETH, PROBABLY DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT’S IN THE WATER. BUT I WOULDN’T LET SAHUAGIN SWIM UPSTREAM JUST TO FUCK WITH THE PEASANTS AND GET THE PCs RILED UP. SAHUAGIN BELONG IN SALTWATER. STOP TELLING DMs HOW TO THINK CRITICALLY, DAMN SIDEBARS.

THIS MAKES SO LITTLE SENSE. HOW HARD IS IT TO DIFFERENTIATE BETWEEN MONSTERS INTOLERANT OF SALT WATER AND THOSE INTOLERANT OF FRESH WATER? SURE, THE SCYLLA AND THE LEVIATHAN AND YES, EVEN ABOLETH, PROBABLY DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT’S IN THE WATER. BUT I WOULDN’T LET SAHUAGIN SWIM UPSTREAM JUST TO FUCK WITH THE PEASANTS AND GET THE PCs RILED UP. SAHUAGIN BELONG IN SALTWATER. STOP TELLING DMs HOW TO THINK CRITICALLY, DAMN SIDEBARS.

A USEFUL SPELL FOR ALL YOU LADY GAMERS OUT THERE. WHY THE COLON? BECAUSE NO DESCRIPTION NEEDED.

A USEFUL SPELL FOR ALL YOU LADY GAMERS OUT THERE. WHY THE COLON? BECAUSE NO DESCRIPTION NEEDED.

WHO HAVE WE NOT YET DESTROYED?

JUST AS RELEVANT FOR D&D CHARACTERS.
EXCEPT MAYBE IT SHOULD BE: “ALWAYS DRINK YOUR ALE WITH BOTH HANDS, JUST TO BE SURE.”

JUST AS RELEVANT FOR D&D CHARACTERS.

EXCEPT MAYBE IT SHOULD BE: “ALWAYS DRINK YOUR ALE WITH BOTH HANDS, JUST TO BE SURE.”

(via cormallen)

WHY’S IT SO SLOW AROUND HERE LATELY? OH, WAIT. IT’S DRAG-MY-ASS-BACK-TO-COLLEGE SEASON. MOST OF TUMBLR MUST BE PREOCCUPIED WITH CLASS SCHEDULES, FINANCIAL AID, ETC.

I LEFT A FREEZIE POP OPEN ON MY DESK AND FORGOT ABOUT IT. BY THE TIME I REMEMBERED THAT I HAD OPENED NOT TWO, BUT THREE FROZEN ICE TREATS, THE DAMN THING HAD ALREADY BLED OUT.

THAT’S ME, TWELVE YEARS AGO, POINTING AT A COW PIE THAT MESSED WITH TEXAS BY DROPPING ON IT. NOTE THE ELONGATED GOATEE AND LONG, DYED BLACK HAIR. I KEEP THAT SHIT SHORT NOW. ALSO I WOULDN’T LIVE IN TEXAS FOR ANY REASON.

THAT’S ME, TWELVE YEARS AGO, POINTING AT A COW PIE THAT MESSED WITH TEXAS BY DROPPING ON IT. NOTE THE ELONGATED GOATEE AND LONG, DYED BLACK HAIR. I KEEP THAT SHIT SHORT NOW. ALSO I WOULDN’T LIVE IN TEXAS FOR ANY REASON.

I NEED SOME SORT OF ASS PILLOW.

Heavy metal music reviewer, freelance writer. Type I Diabetic. D&D gamer, Dungeon Master 17+ years. Married. Absurd.

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