Here’s a little backstory to help set the stage. My Wife and I met eachother at this game and in the time we were playing one of our party members with a series of rolls made a story we still tell to this day. This was pathfinder so our party consisted of Myself, a Winter Witch from a Frozen northern town, My wife a Druid with a pet dire wolf, a Suicidal Cleric, and a Ninja. This stroy would not be possible without some of the most halarious rolls I’ve ever seen.
The ninja is our star for this story. While building his character he had this idea that he wanted to be a quick in and out assassin style meele fighter. Since we were using point buy he dumped as much of his points as he could into Dex, and Int. He took Con as his dumpstat. I think he was some kind of elf, I don’t really remember but I remember that when all was said and done he had a 6 in Con.
Those of us who played before and knew how brutal the pathfinder modules we were playing could be suggested against it but to no avail. He was determined to have his 6 in Con and it was crutial to his character for some reason. Well despite his dumpstat we were all sitting pretty around level 4 or so.
For the adventure that week we were going to my characters home town. Now her home did not like outsiders. It was run by a coven of bheur hags, that my character was hoping to join at some point, but we found ourself outside the walls of the city. Think “THE WALL” from Game of Thrones, but surroundng the city. Being from the city I used a spell called Wizened Apperance to make myself look a little older, and shuttle us pass the guard at the gate, claiming, in the native tongue of the city, that these were my helpers, and companions. Everyone fell in line with me… everyone except the Ninja.
The Ninja looked at the DM and said “I want to do some Ninja shenannigans to get in. Can I scale the wall?” The DM shrugged and said sure but there will be a lot of rolls. This is when things start to fall apart in the most glorious fashion. We’ll refer to the Ninja as N and DM as DM.
N: “I want to sneak up to the wall!” Rolls 19
DM: “Despite your black clothing you are like a shadow on the snow. You’re at the wall what do you want to do now?”
N: “I want to scale the wall”
DM: “It’s like 100 feet high and slick on the outside as it’s made of ice you find no hand holds.”
N: “I throw my grappling hook to the top of the wall I have enough rope for it!” Rolls a Nat 20
DM: “Your hook soars like an eagle on the wind. Roll a strength check to climb the rope”
N: Rolls a nat 1.
DM: “You get a couple of feet off the ground before yoru hand slips Maybe it’s the ice but you hit the ground with a piff of powder and make some noise A Guard notices the noice on top of the wall and goes to investigate.”
N: “I hide in the snow!” Nat 20
DM: “Like you were never there you fade into the white. The guard notices the grappling hook and thinks it’s odd. He takes the hook and pulls the rope up.”
N: “Well shit, Is there another way in? This town has a Harbor right? Can I try to hop across the Ice to get into the city that way?”
DM: “Sure, you find the harbor. Large chunks of ice float in the icey sea. You think you can probably hop across them. Give me an acrobatics check”
N: Rolls a Nat 1
DM: “Your foot slips into the icey drink your show stolen by the frigid waters you are freezing to death now and can feel hypothermia setting in.”
N: “I run into the forest and light a small fire to keep myself warm to stave off the cold.” Rolls a Nat 1 to light a fire
DM: “You manage to get the fire lit, but in your haste, with trembling hands you set the tree you are next to ablaze. It quickly spreads. The good news is now that you are partially burned you are no longer cold.”
N: “Damnit. I go back to the wall I have to scale this wall!” Nat 20.
DM: “Given that the forest is currently on fire the guards seem rather distracted. You scale the wall with little effort and get into the city.”
N: “I use my Disguise kit to make myself look like a local so I can meet up with the rest of the party.” Nat 20.
DM exasperated at this point: “You look like you were born here, and have lived here every day of your life. Do you speak the local language?”
N: “Uh…. no?”
DM: “You spend another ten minutes trying to get directions to where you are supposed to go.”
While this is happening, the rest of the party, and myself being a local have no issue finding this shady underworld buisness dealer and his stash of McGuffins. A short fight ensues. We kill some guard dogs, a couple of goons, and are getting ready to move through the rest of the house to scope it out. All the while we hear bedlam happening outside. Something about a forest fire, people running with buckets of water, someone found a strange ninja slipper washed up in the harbor. The city is going mad. In Character I mutter “Oh please don’t let that idiot have anything to do with this…”
No sooner do I get those words out of my mouth than none other than our hero the Ninja shows up at the door. Half burned, half frozen, missing a show, and with some lipstick from his disguise smeared across his face. He stands there proudly and says “See I told you my Ninja skills were flawless!” I think the eyeroll was almost audible. Never the less, eager to help he is the first into the next room to check for traps.
Nat 1
OH he found the trap. He found that trap so good. So, so good that he sprung it and barrels fell on top of him dealing 11 points of damage. He had 8 hit points. Ninja is unconcious. We all look down at him as he starts failing death saves and wonder if it’s really worth bringing this idiot back with us. The cleric, in her lawful goodness, heals him back up and we move on. The session ends shortly after, but this is not the end of the tale.
Next session, we are still in the north, My Ice Witch is loving it. She dances on top of the snow and keeps wondering why it’s taking so long for everyone else to slog though 5 feet of powder. The Druid eventually gets fed up and rides her dire wolf. Ninja hasn’t shown up for this session, personal things, and so we continue to this little village.
The villagers are based around Oral Traditions, and if we want to get any where with them we will have to tell them a story. The more enthralling the story the more helpful they will be. Our bard (fill in for ninja) starts up but I quickly shush him and tell them the story of a ninja so full of huberis and pride, he burned a forest to ash. When I finnish my story the village elder, who had slipped into the telling at some point, gives us all the help we could dream of and a crate of healing potions to distribute amongst ourselves (F’n sweet!).
So captivating is my story that it is added to this little villages grand story traditions and he shall ever be known as “The One-Shoed Fool.” And so my friend I share this story with you, as I shared it with those villagers so long ago so that you too, may know that the rule of cool, doesn’t always make sense. Watch your hubris my friends, and always remember The One-Shooed Fool.
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