Not a lot of action in the D&D game last night, but I got in a couple of good zingers which I have decided to share with you. Don't you feel special?

Some background: my character, Dorog, is a dwarf warrior whose intelligence is well below average. I'm playing him as having a literal mindset, with no room or processing power for metaphor or innuendo. I'm using the Terry Pratchett Discworld dwarves as my template, only stupider. Also, his grasp of the Common tongue--the language everybody speaks in addition to whatever species-based and special-purpose languages they may know--is tenuous at best. He says "Me" instead of "I," doesn't conjugate his verbs with any reliability, that sort of thing.

Anyway, our merry band found itself in a hidden elven village in the middle of the woods somewhere, in the middle of the night. One of the citizens of the place had been getting chased down by werewolves, and we rescued him. Then we had to escort his sorry butt home. This kinda crap always happens in the middle of the night. So, we needed a place to sleep until morning so the plot hook could catch up and launch us into a new thrilling adventure!

We were directed to a home that had extra rooms we could occupy. During the course of conversation, it came out that the hostess was a elven woman of remarkable beauty even among her own kind, and that her husband was away fighting somewhere. This meant nothing to me, but set the motors running in the three men in the group who were partilly or fully elven themselves.

The thinly-veiled crude remarks were flying fast and furious as we approached the front door of the tree house and knocked, and continued as the woman opened the door and asked us what we wanted. The jokes continued, which the DM wisely ignored, while I waited for a lull. When one came along, my character looked up at the woman and said, "Can we all sleep with you?"

She mentioned she was married, to which I replied, "Huh?" and the scene was off and running. Dorog was confused because he meant exactly what he said, that the party needed a place to sleep, and that she might provide such.

The next morning, we were hit by a huge block of backstory which I didn't pay much attention to, the better to play my character's stupidity. Instead, I was eating all the breakfast food that the others were ignoring while running their mouths. More for me, I'd decided. While we were waiting for the party's wizard to finish his morning spell memorization upstairs, the two outdoorsmen, and arguably the only two who'd been paying attention to the exposition, took off to go round up our horses, which we'd been unable to bring along with us the night before. I had, however, picked up a name of someone we were supposed to go talk to for additional information before storming into the Underdark and slaughtering everything that moves.

So, myself, a halfling thief, and a drow psionicist headed over to this one fella's tree fort. As we approached, the thief suddenly started worrying about magical deathtraps on the public building in the middle of the town and didn't want to approach. So, they volunteered me to knock. I was fine with that. I knew I had no idea what I was supposed to talk to the guy about, but I figured Dorog wouldn't see that as an obstacle in his one-step-at-a-time world. So, I walked up to the door and was ready to knock when the other two stopped me. It seemed the drow had caught the halfling's infectious paranoia and thought it was a trap, which his magic resistance would be better able to survive. While I stared blankly at the drow, the halfling waddled up and knocked after all.

The door opened and there stood the guy we came to talk to. At which point we looked at each other and realized no one knew what we were supposed to ask him about. So, I said the only appropriate thing: "Why did we want to talk to you?"

Yeah, this guy's gonna be fun.