I HAVE A NEW DND WATCHING EXPERIANCE FOR YOU!!!! Currently about to finish the first season on Saturday 7/03, Live on Twitch!
D&Dorks on youtube and sir_superhero on twitch, The Symmetry War!
It's not just straight white dudes playing!
We've got a Vampire Frog, a Cat furry, a Changeling that started a licking trend, secrets around every corner that are being reaveiled by a great and passionate DM(who is pan/ace, nICE)
(also if you know Pandaredd, you know, the guy that does the funny dc batfam skits on tiktok, HE'S HERE TOO)
I fell in love with this campaign near instantly, mainly because a lot of the cast are first time players that have No morals, don't ask me how many they've killed, because idk. I love them anyway.
I wanna say more about it, but saying literally anything will give too much away. It's so good, trust me
3 hour episodes and only 9.5 episodes, this story is compact and wild at every turn! Can't recommend it enough!
(seriously tho, please watch this i need to interract to people into this, there is no fandom and I'm loosing my mind about it, and if there is, it's so small idk where to find it, help)
In honor of the Symmetry War season finale (and also the fact that this piece was shared on stream) here is my fanart of S.G.!!! So unbelievably happy that Momo likes it ajd even more happy that they shared it on stream!
Party is Chaos wants to stay at an inn, but S.G. notices that families stay for cheaper than adventuring parties. The obvious solution is to enact Operation Siblings
No ship (768 words)
~~~
"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" Glib asks as they walk towards the innkeeper of the tavern. He pulls at the blanket that is fully covering his face, only for S.G. to tsk at him and readjust the blanket.
"Because families get to stay for cheaper," S.G. says with far too much confidence. She's shifted into a dark-haired half-elf woman with strong cheekbones and coal black eyes. They're dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that's in the same style of Goodbid's. They look exactly like a female version of the mustached man which is the plan.
"Okay, now remind me why we think this is going to work?" Goodbid asks. He readjusts his hold on Glib, having been handed him when S.G. claimed her arms were getting tired.
"Because Operation Siblings is the perfect plan." Before either of their "brothers" can protest, S.G. strides up to the counter. "Hello, ma'am," she says with a thick southern drawl and a very Goodbid like smile.
"Oh, hello there," the innkeeper says. She gives S.G. a kind smile as she sets down the glass she was cleaning. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, me and my brothers-" he points to Goodbid and Glib, "-were hopin' you'd have a room for us."
"Oh, yes!" The innkeeper says looking disproportionately happy. "We do have a room for a fine family such as yourself!"
S.G. casts a smile over her shoulder and Goodbid visibly relaxes.
"That will be 10 gold."
S.G. starts digging into her pockets when Goodbid pipes up, "if I may ask, ma'am." The woman nods for him to continue. "Why do families get to stay for cheaper?"
"Oh, we are trying to change the reputation of this old place. The previous owners were not very good people, and we are trying to change that image!" The woman replies chipperly as she takes the gold coins. She hands S.G. a key and a guest logbook.
S.G. looks at the woman and hopes his smile isn't coming across as strained as it feels. "Do you want me to sign that?"
"Yes, if you would that would be greatly appreciated."
S.G. takes the offered quill and quickly signs "Sarah Goodmen" before pushing the book back to the innkeeper and taking the key. They hurriedly go to the room which is sparsely furnished and has two beds.
"I am so surprised that worked," Glib says as soon as the door shuts.
"You should have seen S.G.'s face when she made her sign that book!" Goodbid laughs as he puts Glib on the ground.
"I nearly told her I was illiterate," S.G. says as they drop the form.
"That wouldn't have worked! You're in a business suit!" Glib points out.
"I've got to side with Glib here, S.G.," Goodbid says with a chuckle.
"I've lied my way out of worse," S.G. points out. They all laugh about it for a moment before Goodbid takes stock of the room.
"Should I go ask for a cot for one of us? Or are two of us sharing a bed?" Goodbid asks, already walking toward the door.
"Nah, I'd burn right through both," Glib says as he sits on one of the chairs next to the small table in the corner of the room. "I'm just gonna sleep in this chair."
"That can't be comfortable," Goodbid says, casting S.G. a questioning glance. She doesn't react as she claims the bed closest to the small window.
"Well, I am undead, I don't exactly need sleep," Glib counters. "Which reminds me, we need to find someone for me to drain soon, I'm getting hungry." Goodbid slightly pales. "I won't drink you, Goodbid. You're somehow more useful alive."
"Thanks?"
"It's a compliment, brother," S.G. laughs.
"Oh God, she's never going to let that go," Glib groans.
"Well, I'm much happier that this plan worked and not Operation Influencer because mercy knows her ego is big enough!" Goodbid laughs as he takes off his hat and starts taking off his shoes. They get ready for bed in silence.
"Good night, little brothers," S.G. says with a yawn as she gets under the covers.
"Who decided you were oldest?" Goodbid demands.
"Me, I came up with the plan," S.G. deadpans.
"Let her have this, Good, she's just upset she's the youngest of the party," Glib says with a smile which grows when S.G. huffs from under the blankets.
What would have happened in Session 5 if Glib could've actually bitten Goodbid during their intro fight.
Mature themes but nothing actually happens (just a little biting)
I feel the need to make sure the reader is VERY aware that this is a shit post taken seriously (for the most part)
Goodbid/Glib (1324 words)
~~~
"It'd be an easy contract," they said. "What are you afraid of?" they said.
This. This is what Mr. Goodbid had to be afraid of.
Being bitten by a frog while surrounded by a void of nothingness but faint, black tentacles slithering around him, and hellish whispers and god chanting directly into his ears.
But how did the suave, always prepared Mr. Goodbid get here?
Things had been going perfectly swell. The faceless thing just hit him in the face with an exploding ice knife, just before he can cast Shatter on both it and the frog, but he had managed to dodge the ice-shards and run up the alleyway.
"It's nothing personal, frog man!" He yells as the frog, who is literally shaking with rage, gets back to his feet.
The alley, which had become darker when Goodbid stepped into it, suddenly turns pitch black. The angry, three-foot-tall, glowing-red-eyed frog man starts running at him while an elder god chants what suspiciously sounds like "you fucked up" into his ear. The frog shoots him with Eldritch Blast, barely phasing Mr. Goodbid.
"It's a noble attempt- Woah!" Before he can finish his cocky comment, Goodbid is yanked -like a ragdoll- ten feet forward, putting him within spitting distant of the frogman. Distantly he hears the mannequin thing cast a spell before he is surrounded in a black void of nothing. Or at least, he thought it was nothing.
Tentacles swim threateningly around him, too far for him to touch, but too close to escape if they try to grab him. The God chanting is louder and is backed by evil whispers that are too quiet to understand.
And standing five feet away is the glowing-red eyes of the frogman that Mr. Goodbid is beginning to regret making angry.
"H-Hey now!" Goodbid yelps, trying to back away. "Let's talk about this!"
The frogman jumps (or at least Goodbid hopes he's jumping, he can only see his eyes) and tries to tackle Goodbid, but he's not very heavy, and Mr. Goodbid is always prepared.
Goodbid grabs the frog by the cloak and grapples with him, trying to pull him off.
"Damn, Mr. Frogman! You are one sticky son of a bitch!" Goodbid quips and he swears he can feel the frog growl something about dinner. A sharp pain courses through Goodbid's neck as the frog who is apparently vampire -frogpire?- bites his neck.
So, Mr. Goodbid is weaponless (can't get into his briefcase), blind, surrounded by what might as well be actual hell, and is being drank like one of his famous Capri Suns.
But when all else fails,
"Kinky a little frog man! I like it!"
Goodbid always has his wit.
It's certainly one of the weirdest sensations he's every felt, having his life force drained out of him. The frog is slimy, and his mouth is sticky and wet where it is lapping against his neck. He groans lightly as he rolls his head to the side, exposing more of his neck because if this is how he dies, he might as well enjoy it.
The frog stops drinking and looks up at Goodbid.
"What the fuck?!" He demands as he glares at Goodbid.
"What, never had a willing victim before?" Goodbid asks with a not-so-innocent smile. He bats his eyelashes a little and exposes his neck again.
"No! All of my 'victims' were already dead!" The Frog yells in his face, spitting what is probably Goodbid's own blood back into his face. It splatters warmly against his cheek, and Goodbid is definitely not having certain feelings about that. "And there is no fucking way you are enjoying that!"
"Come on, Glib!" A Russian voice yells. "Don't kink shame him! He's giving you free meal!"
"Yeah, Glib," Goodbid taunts. "Drink up." He rolls his head back and smiles down at Glib through his half-hooded eyes. He can't really see the frog, but he imagines he is either staring gobsmacked at Goodbid or glaring holes into him.
Now, logically, he should throw the frog off now that he has the chance and run for the hills, but he kind of wants to see where this is headed.
"You do understand that I am draining your blood, right?" Glib asks.
"Yep," Goodbid says without missing a beat, popping the 'p'.
There's a moment of silence, well not silence -the hell whispers are still happening- but neither of them say anything.
"You know what? I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth," Glib grumbles as he latches back onto Goodbid's neck. Goodbid laughs but it quickly changes into a pained groan. Maybe he really didn't think this through. Something about the frog's skin irritates his and on top of a bite mark on his neck he will also have a red rash. Hopefully a rash, and not any degree of burns.
He starts to sway on his feet, his head light from blood-loss, before collapsing backward, Glib still latched tight to his neck.
Distantly he hears talking, but his ears are ringing too loud for him to comprehend any of it before he is suddenly being pulled out of the black void and into the too-bright alleyway.
It takes a second for him to register that he is looking at a pair of boots that definitely do not belong to the mannequin.
"I thought you had this under control?" The man says cockily.
"Lester!" Goodbid laughs giddily, although he's not sure if that's his name. The world is fuzzy, and- what was Goodbid here for again?
"That's not my name," Lester grumbles.
"Sure, it's not," Goodbid agrees flippantly before registering what was said. "And I do have this under control."
Glib detaches himself form Goodbid for long enough to look up and say, "fuck off, and leave me and my dinner alone or you'll be dessert."
Lester cocks an eyebrow. "Dinner?"
Goodbid opens his mouth to respond only for a groan to fall out of it as Glib goes back to actively killing him.
"Gross," Lester says as Mannequin laughs.
"Get a room," the Mannequin says. Glib hums in acknowledgement, making Goodbid's eyes roll back before he starts to pointedly ignore how the frog feels against his throat.
"Now that's an idea," Lester says with a grin. He pulls something out of his pocket, but Goodbid can't see it. He can't see much of anything because of a thick fog in his head. He faintly hears something crack before he blacks out.
When he comes too, he is in a clear-glass prison cell with Glib, who has already woken up, in a different box not far away. The Mannequin is in a different cell that is also far away.
"Listen, Monopoly Man," Glib says before Goodbid can even full take in his surroundings. "If you are going to be stuck with us, I am going to regularly use you as a food source."
"Won't that kill me?" Mr. Goodbid points out.
"It won't if I don't take a lot. I just need to take enough to keep me from getting hungry," Glib explains causally. To his credit, Glib seems much calmer now that he's had something to eat.
"Well, what's in it for me?" Goodbid, ever the businessman, asks.
"We are working a contract for someone with a lot of power. You stick with us, and you can probably get a pretty sick reward."
Goodbid thinks it over for a moment before slowly nodding his head.
"We'll work out the logistics of the contract once we are out of these goddamned cells," Goodbid tells him as he slowly gets to his feet. "And besides, I think being your little juice-box is funny."
Glib glares. "You're not my little anything."
"Aw, that hurts," Goodbid jokes.
"Hey, when you too are done doing kink negotiations, we need to find a way out of these cells!" The Mannequin yells.
