So in D&D this evening, we walked into the blue dragon’s lair and were promptly captured by its minions.
Let’s not dwell on that. The details are somewhat embarrassing.
In order to escape from the cell, we first broke down the door, then everybody who was able to hide/turn invisible/turn into a swarm of mice did so. That left, depressingly visible, yours truly—Rooster the Paladin, champion of the Order of the Silver Weasel, whose goal was to produce a diversion until everybody managed to sneak out of range. (After all, if they throw him in a different cell, now the rest of the party can come break him out.)*
Rooster strolled up to the hill giant guarding the hallway, slapped him on the shoulder, told him he was doing a great job and asked if he wanted anything from the kitchen.
HILL GIANT: Shiny man want wrestle?
PALADIN: Errr, no. No wrestle. Maybe after dinner?
HILL GIANT: Want wrestle now!
PALADIN: We’ll get in trouble if we wrestle.
HILL GIANT: Not if wrestling prisoner…
PALADIN: I’m not a prisoner! I’m a recruit! I filled out paperwork and everything! It’s on file in the office!**
HILL GIANT: But armor have little ferret on it. Not dragon. Recruit armor have dragon.
PALADIN: …it’s a ferret-dragon?
This is where the GM made his fatal mistake. He had set up for a wrestling match, and instead, he stayed in character. Staying in character with our party is death. Always. He always makes them too sympathetic. It’s a real problem.
HILL GIANT: Me want ferret-dragon…
PALADIN: Errr….I’ll get you one?
HILL GIANT: Me will love it and hug it and call it George!
PALADIN: (now horrified but intrigued) What if it’s a girl?
HILL GIANT: George!
PALADIN: Quite right, lovely name for a girl. Good man. I’ll just…err…go get you one…
Following the swarm of mice that is nominally our druid, the paladin sauntered away, follow the mice to a good spot to hide, and while the party debated what to do next, we had to listen to the follow-up, as Kevin really got into the spirit of things:
HILL GIANT 2: Where prisoner?
HILL GIANT 1: He getting ferret-dragon!
HILL GIANT 2: There no such thing as ferret-dragon.
HILL GIANT 1: Is too! Shiny man said!
HILL GIANT 2: What you name it?
HILL GIANT 1: George. Me will love it and hug it and..
HILL GIANT 2: What if it girl…?
HILL GIANT 1: George good name for girl.
At this point, to forestall the now-desperate paladin from actually leaving the lair, walking to town, commissioning a stuffed ferret-dragon and bringing it back in an agony of guilt, our artificer used her animal messenger spell to send a bat to the local adventurer’s co-op with Rooster’s membership number and have a stuffed ferret-dragon (or close equivalent) delivered to Hill Giant Guard, c/o Blue Dragon’s Lair, wrapped in a bow with “Love, Shiny Man” on the tag.
Somewhat belatedly it occurred to us that the spell might have been better used in calling for backup, but the paladin would never have been able to live with himself.
*Our first escape plan involved a sudden magic elephant to the groin. It would have totally worked, but possibly would have attracted undue attention.
**Sadly, this is all true.