A druid, a cleric, and a paladin are all out in a boat fishing.
The druid, in his leather armor says "Drat, I forgot the food" gets out of the boat and walks on the water to the dock, grabs the food and walks back to the boat.
The cleric says "Oh hell, I forgot the beer..." gets out in his chain shirt and runs over to the dock, gets the beer and comes back.
The paladin, in his plate armor says "Thats amazing.. how'd you do that? I didn't see you cast a spell..." he gets out of the boat, steps onto the water... and sinks right to the bottom.
The druid turns to the cleric and says "Think we should have told him about the rocks?"
(Joke) On Ustalavians being hard-bitten: "So an Elf from Meiriani Wood, a Halfling from the River-Kingdoms, and a warrior from Ustalav have all been captured by orcs while traveling beyond the Lastwall. The orcs tell them that for their trespass on the ancestral lands of the orcs, they are to be bound to a rack in the morning, and their skin will be flayed from them to make an orcish war-canoe. However, as the orcs are not wholly uncivilized, they would allow a final request to each of them. The elf says: "Give to me some poison." and he drinks it, so that he might not be skinned while alive. The Halfling asks for a rope, so that he may hang himself and he too, will not be skinned while he yet lives. The Ustalavian thinks for a moment, and asks for a fork. The orcs are befuddled by this, but comply to his odd request -- with which he begins stabbing himself all over and shouting "Good luck with your Canoe!!"
This one seriously cracked me up, thank you.
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Um...
There was a clumsy wizard in the village where I grew up who was changed into a half-horse, half-man creature. We were never sure who did it to him, but his wife left him because she thought he was self-centaured.
*cough*
There were some cavaliers who came through the village a few weeks after that, one of them a halfling knight from the Order of the Paw. His mount had taken sick, and he went to the kennels to find a replacement. The owner brought out a string of mutts, each one more mangy than the other. The kennel master finally brought out his "best", a large doberman missing its tail. The halfling shook his head in disgust, saying, "I wouldn't send a knight out on a dog like this."
No?
So, a year ago a sphinx flew into town, and called the villagers to the main square. She looked around at the gathered people and said: "I have a message for your...
...
...
...mayor."
The blacksmith walked forward nervously and asked "Why the big pause?"
The sphinx looked down at the ends of her legs and shrugged. "I dunno," she said, "I was just born that way."
Erm.
We recently had two necromancers from Tian Xia come by, trying to gather bodies from our graveyard. We were worried until we found out they were Chan Wong and his brother, Liu Wong.
Because, as you all know, two Wongs don't make a wight.
Okay, one last one, just because of the time of year:
A lone, young intitiate of Iomedae was traveling away from his temple for the first time. Unfortunately, he was set upon by bandits and slain. The bandit chief, searching the body of the young priest (which had been cut open horribly), bemoaned the fact that the young friar's loot was only in bags. "I want ornate chests, not sacks! Chests are what I love! I once killed seventy five men just to get the small, hand-carved chest they were carrying! Why, I would slay a dragon just to get to its chests!"
Unfortunately for the bandit chief, a passing dragon overheard the bandit bragging and swopped down and killed the man, but not before a bard witnessed the whole thing.
Inspired, the bard used the imagery to pen his one semi-famous tune. You might have heard it? It starts out: "Chest nuts boasting by an open friar..."
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Okay, one last one, just because of the time of year:
A lone, young intitiate of Iomedae was traveling away from his temple for the first time. Unfortunately, he was set upon by bandits and slain. The bandit chief, searching the body of the young priest (which had been cut open horribly), bemoaned the fact that the young friar's loot was only in bags. "I want ornate chests, not sacks! Chests are what I love! I once killed seventy five men just to get the small, hand-carved chest they were carrying! Why, I would slay a dragon just to get to its chests!"
Unfortunately for the bandit chief, a passing dragon overheard the bandit bragging and swopped down and killed the man, but not before a bard witnessed the whole thing.
Inspired, the bard used the imagery to pen his one semi-famous tune. You might have heard it? It starts out: "Chest nuts boasting by an open friar..."
Semi-off topic, because it's not related to Pathfinder or Golarion, but your last joke reminded me of this one.
There was a chess tournament in a hotel. Between games, many of the chess players would hang out in the lobby, showing each other the moves of their games, analyzing their strategies, and frequently bragging loudly about their victories.
After a while, the manager of the hotel approached the chess players and told them. "I'm sorry, but your boisterous behavior is disturbing some of the other patrons, and we've had several complaints. I'm going to have to ask you to leave the lobby area."
The chess players didn't want any trouble, so they left to go elsewhere.
After they'd gone, one of the hotel workers approached the manager. "Why did you tell them that? We haven't gotten any complaints from other patrons."
The manager replied, "I know, but I just can't stand chess nuts boasting in an open foyer."
I just can't stand chess nuts boasting in an open foyer."
Clever! Nothing new under the sun, I suppose. :P
A story I heard from a Westcrown bard in the Guilded Lily last night while I was making the rounds, picking pockets. Um, it's a little long:
Geltor Catflinger, eldest scion of Merkin Catflinger, who was himself chief of the Unexpressed Glands, the most feared tribe of the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, heaved his mighty sinews and brought his cart to rest.
For 50 moons he had scoured the lands of his people, from the plains of Hillcross to the frozen wastes of the Crown of the World, seeking any man or woman who could stand against his might. In this, his quest failed, for none could withstand the crushing power of Geltor.
He had now returned to his father's soaring yurt, walls spun from the long grasses of the plains of his homeland, and he had come bearing the trophies gathered from those who had fallen before him.
The blind oracle, Ait Olchusew, stood at his prince's arrivial, hailing the warrior. "Mighty Flinger of Cats, I foretold your return to your people now, within the Moon of the Gasping Mud Carp, and your tribe has gathered to hear of your doom."
Geltor nodded at his old mentor and motioned to the warriors who now crowded his father's threshold. He pointed to his tarp-covered cart and directed the men to bring it in after him.
As he stepped into the dimmly lit yurt, he saw his father seated upon the beast throne, his counsel of wise ones seated at his sides. His own mother and sister counted among them, their faces set and almost unreadable. For a moment however, Galtor caught his mother's eye, and she was unable to mask her pleasure at her son's grand return.
He shrugged his mammoth pelt from his shoulders, and threw his arms- scarred and powerful limbs as massive as tree trunks- out wide to face his father's council. He raised his voice in triumph and pride, bellowing like an aurach. "I have returned from my trials, father, and for lo these many moons, I have found none able to stand against me!" He turned to his cart, pulling the thunder-lizard skin tarp off in one fluid, dramatic motion. He gestured to the large, wooden surface littered with a score of finely crafted cathedras, princely palanquins, sophisticated seats, and a plain, three legged stool.
"I have thrown down all who came to task me, and have taken the very seats of power from them!" He threw back his head and yipped the wild victory cry of the Clan of the Unexpressed Glands.
His father took in his son's cart, plied high with the thrones of his fallen foes. "It is well, then, Galtor." He waved his hand toward the pile of chairs. "You are still as literal minded as ever, my son."
Galtor nodded gravely. "Indeed. The subtlety of the metaphor still eludes me."
His father then took his boy- this man, now- into his arms, a fierce embrace that spoke of the pride and honor he had brought to his people. "We will kill the fatted triceratops, my son, and give a feast worthy of a new cheiftain!" He motioned again to the pile of thrones. "First clear these trophies, so that we may make room for the bounty!"
The warriors started to take the thrones from the cart, making to take them to the upper chambers of the two-story hut, when the oracle Ait Olchusew cried out. "My chief! You must not! It will mean the end for you all if you do this thing!"
Chief Merkin growled at his shaman, "You will not sully my son's triumphant return with your dark words!" He turned and shouted to his warriors, "Take these thrones upstairs, and then drive this faithless wretch from my sight!" And his warriors obeyed.
Later that night Ait Olchusew, last oracle of the Clan of the Unespressed Glands, watched through his second sight as the mighty Yurt of Chief Merkin Catflinger, woven from the grasses of his homeland, collapsed under the weight of the collected trophies his son had brought home. The fire that bloomed forth seconds later took the entire clan away to the sacred hunting grounds of their ancestors.
From that day forth the oracle spread forth word of this tragedy and the lesson learned, words of wisdom that ring true even now, these many years later:
*(joke) on Dwarves: "A long time ago before I was a priest I did first-aid at an apothecary for the folks normally too poor to afford a potion. And one day with the Alchemist out, a dwarf came in asking about… well… a "potion of Ardency" if you know what I mean… So I get the vial for him and he asks: "How long does it last?" and I tell him "4 hours, exactly." and then he asks: "How much does it cost?" and I tell him: "50 platinum, exactly." and he says to me: "I'm not paying 50 plat for a measly extra 15 minutes."
EPIC! :)
dot
Sorry, this very off topic, but I've seen this around in so many threads. What does "dot" mean?
On the forums, threads that you've posted in show up with a dot next to them. When someone wants to mark a thread to return to later, they'll post to it just to get that dot to show up for them.
Oh! Well, color me unobservant. Thanks!