“I don’t have lungs, but I can’t breathe. I also don’t have vocal cords or a tongue. How am I speaking?” “In Morse code! By kicking my teeth!” - elemental Idril logistics
“Describe the door.” “Looks like a door. I’m not fucking Stephen King. I’m not gonna spend three chapters describing a doorknob.” - Dave
“These little skeletons, they don’t deserve lightning. They deserve a little magic missile.” - Caelum
“I close my two normal eyes, so I can have full focus with my middle eye.” - Caelum’s third-eye debut
“You need two eyes for 3D. A third eye makes it 4D.”
“Who lit them? The place is filled with zombies and skeletons.” “You’ve never heard of a zombie janitor?” “I’ve heard of devotion to duty, but that just takes the cake.”
“I’m not doing calculations to send people to the moon. I’m a water elemental.” / “They call me a wet blanket.” “You literally are one.”
“This statue isn’t going to come to life and attack us, is it?” “I would never do that.” “Why is your nose growing, Pinocchio?”
“Do we know what the dog’s name was?” “Bingo! Bingo is his name-o.”
“I do have the Horcrux.” - Idril, carrying the phylactery cylinder like a conversation piece
“This guy was smart. He wore the brown pants.” - on Mexoz, round three
“We’re mostly not the Mostly Mortals anymore. Idril’s the closest thing to an original Mostly Mortal.” “Mostly Morons?”
“Even with just a few sessions, the summary started: the party finally agrees on something. Rest.” “That’s us.”
D&D Highlights
The third eye goes live - First at-table use: both normal eyes shut, middle eye focused, 4th-level Magic Missile. Half the bolts thud into elemental Idril because the target was inside him. “See, that was beautiful.”
First roll of the night: nat 1 - Caelum’s water-elemental history check. “You’ve never encountered a Water Elemental before.” “I didn’t roll it in HERE though.” “You said it out loud. It counts.”
The skeleton-leg beatdown - Grapple 22, slam for 28, then the leg becomes a weapon. “He’s going to eat it like Deadpool did Wolverine.”
Orion meets the new Idril - Back from the monastery into a water elemental, a ghost, and a three-eyed wizard. “What do you mean, that’s Idril?”
The door that beat the party - Knock is in Caelum’s book, not prepared. “Why didn’t you prepare during the long rest?” “He wasn’t here for it.” “The SIX-WEEK long rest?”
Nat 20 nature check… for a 17 - Elemental INT penalty. “I had to add some drama and some flair.”
The Lexicon of Istra - Idril gives Caelum Puss-in-Boots eyes over the caged forbidden book, then sets his deadline: “I’m giving you ten minutes. After ten minutes, I’m licking the book.”
Round three - Lightning Bolt lights the room and Mexoz is standing in it. Behind him, the impaled statue. Orion: “It’s Aira. Found her.” End of session.
Table Culture (Non-D&D Gold)
The new waitress - Second shift ever, already the table favorite, juggling sour blueberry beers, Sprites, chips, and “two sausage, two sour, three chicken boxes… one chicken box.”
Blue Jays therapy session - 0-10, a 22-3 loss in there somewhere. “I’ve never seen Toronto win anything.” “They won the American League Championship.” “I wasn’t watching that game.”
Lacrosse family flex - A niece with a full ride to a US university, a scouted nephew, and the family politics tangled up in both.
The Stephen King doorknob rant - “Great descriptions, don’t get me wrong. But two pages ago I fell asleep.” Final verdict: “also a very horrible movie maker.”
Dice superstition corner - Glitter dice that roll one-sided, “You should eat that d20, it’s good,” a man with two pockets dedicated to d20s, and the ruling: “Don’t buy more dice. OWN more dice.”
The D100 of destiny - Proposed cure for Orion’s poison: roll a d100, “if you get 100, you live.” Immediately followed by “I say we play soccer with it.”
Say his name backwards - The Mr. Mxyzptlk theory: read “Mexoz” backwards off the map and he has to disappear. “Wexels.”
Kruger retroactively ruins a video - The old two-elves clip re-litigated: “It wasn’t a threesome until the phantom showed up.” “It’s not gay if it’s an elf.”
Perfect day / worst day - David’s chill Toronto day (kid to baseball camp, then the game, sleep in) against a 7:30am solo front-end shift with no boss and no backup.