DnD Story #130 – Poetic (Barbaric) Justice

Being in middle school at the time, naturally our characters were real assholes.

3 points

I’ve got a real ironic one for ya. 

It was my first character ever (back in the 3.5 days), an orc barbarian named Brutis. I️ was adventuring with my brother who was also a first time player (human fighter named Buzzy). Our oldest brother was DM’ing and showing us the ropes.  

Being in middle school at the time, naturally our characters were real assholes. We were sleeping in an alleyway one night, no coin to our name, when our shenanigans (stealing horses, killing townsfolk, etc.) finally caught up with us and we were arrested by the town guard. The next morning we’re awakened by the cheers of a blood thirsty crowd. We’re kicked into a dusty arena and told we must fight…each other! Two go in, one comes out. 

“Look man,” I️ pleaded to Buzzy, “there’s gotta be a way out of this. We can take out a couple of the guards and try our luck running.” There was a pause at the table. “…No dude…” Buzzy said as he drew his longsword, “there’s no other way…and I’m not gonna be the one to die!” He charged at me with all his might, and missed… My turn. I️ enter rage and cleave him in half with one swing of my greataxe. With two loud thuds the traitor fell to the ground. 

Brutis lived a long life as a marauder well into his golden years. Poetic justice if I’ve ever rolled it. 


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