Darren plays an rpg (pathfinder) for the first time part one💫
My character (Dorg • they/them) currently works in a tavern so they could earn enough money for their future adventure. They studies cryptids and desperately wants to find one someday.
Their mother and granny are very experienced warriors who mostly teach self defence these days. Dorg’s father is a gardener.
They support Dorg’s need for finding a different path in life though are not too happy about it. Dorg is far too soft and quite sentimental. They gets panic attacks if they hurts anyone, so they tries to avoid any violence if possible. Which is hard since they works as a bouncer.
One starry night while Dorg was guarding the front door of the tavern a small creature approached them. The creature introduced himself as Lord Memeluke [mimi’luːk].
A very important hobbit and also lord obviously. He didn’t look like a hobbit though which he explained as a very rare disease that only lords can get for some reason.
He clearly needed help, so Dorg tried to pick him up. To which Lord Memeluke reacted by not very hobbit like screeching. Dorg almost dropped him. But Little Lord got ahold of himself very fast and explained quite politely:
Lord Memeluke: I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready for such energetic dragonhandling. But now I am. You can proceed.
And so Dorg did. They carried him inside and put him on a counter.
Dorg: Can I help you somehow? With your illness?
Lord Memeluke: I’m not ill. I lied. I’m sorry. And I’m not a hobbit but I am a Lord… and a goblin… I do miss an eye. It’s not an illness though, it’s a sacrifice.
Dorg didn’t know what to say, so they made a small eyepatch from their handkerchief and put it gently on the mysterious stranger.
Lord Memeluke: Thanks, that’s very kind of you. I do have an eyepatch already. But it’s still… much appreciated.
Dorg was enormously pleased with that answer. He enjoyed helping those in need even if their need wasn’t so transparent.
Lord Memeluke: I couldn’t help but notice how strong you are. Your neck especially. It’s very shiny and powerful. Are you by any chance looking for work at the moment? The life of a little Lord could be very troublesome. This little body is in terrible need of some guarding at the moment. I’ll pay you handsomely.
Dorg did in fact had a job, it wasn’t fun but the income was stable. The downside was that his boss treated him like shit and was extremely racist about it. This little Lord seemed nice.
Lord Memeluke: I’ll get us the largest suite. We could discuss all the tiny little details here.
All this time Dorg was sleeping on a bench near the counter. The possibility of sleeping in a private space sounded tempting enough. The tiny details were discussed and that’s how Dorg got a new job. Dorg still had to sleep on the floor because there was only one bed in the room. But it wasn’t a problem.
Lord Memeluke: Wow. What’s the rope for?
Dorg: I had a roommate once, a gnome. Almost crushed him when started sleepwalking around. He slashed me with an axe in his sleepy distress. Cut my tail in half almost. The only scar I have… I don’t want to hurt you. I’m gonna tie myself up to this dresser.
The night was ever so quiet. Dorg dropped the dresser at some point when he turned to the other side but otherwise it was the most uneventful night. Truly a blessing.
In the morning Dorg discovered that Little Lords can eat trash. They prefer it that way even. And since Memeluke was nothing but decent, Dorg decided to surprise him with a good pile of fresh morning garbage. They wasn’t too successful about it. They accidentally put their hands in an old barrel full of grease, got very oily and frustrated. Then the owner of the tavern appeared and started screaming at Dorg. Very rude. Dorg got even more frustrated and accidentally put the tavern on fire. Lord Memeluke helped them get their shit together and escape. He crawled on Dorg’s neck at some point, so he could give the fastest instructions to them. The instructions were simple enough, so were very easy to follow. Run. Turn left. Turn right. Two villagers tried to stab Dorg with pitchforks. One missed and fell on the ground. Dorg tried to get down, ask them if they’re ok. But Lord Memeluke screamed that he had to knock out the other one. That instruction was clearly wrong, so Dorg decided to ignore it and started running again.
All in all their escape from the village was successful. They got a chance to take a breath finally. And before the horror of what they did fully reached Dorg’s heart they did the most unnecessary thing, they introduced themself again.
Dorg: hi, I’m Dorg. It’s a… real pleasure to meet you.
And they held out their huge oily hand to Little Lord who was still clinging to their neck. Little Lord touched it immediately in return.
Lord Memeluke: hi, Dorg. I’m Lord Memeluke. But you can call me Meme.
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