Tiny Shoes

Context: Added a new player to my campaign playing a Morph class character. They encountered a Goristro and the Morph goes Wolf.

Bard (vicious mockery):

Context: Our gnome bard, Tiny, is friendly AF.  She will befriend anything. ANYTHING. Drow prison guards? She taught one to dance.  Dragons? She booped the snoot of and rode on a red dragon. Sentient Gelatinous Cube? She named it Jellofriend. Our human sorceress, Hextine, wants of those toddler leashes so maybe, just maybe, she can keep Tiny from getting us killed by trying to friend the wrong creature.

Tiny typically rides on Ront, our party’s (full) Orc Barbarian’s, shoulders.  He’s simple, but gentle with Tiny. 

In our last game, the party was nearing the Upperdark city of Blingdenstone, traveling single file through narrow caverns bedecked with new spiderwebs.  Our cleric pointed out the two large web-residents, who had hungrily taken notice.

As the party pulled out torches, sun blades, lighted maces, and other bright/ fiery things to deter the spiders long enough for us to pass or for our half-orc barbarian to decide which weapon she was going to use to smash them, Hextine notices the gleeful look on Tiny’s face.

Before Tiny could fully squirm down from her perch and get turned into a snack, the calm of the cavern was interrupted by Hextine.

“DON’T PET THE SPIDERS, TINY! RONT, DO NOT LET TINY PET THAT SPIDER! DO NOT BOOP THE SNOOT!”

Ront replies with a “Yes, ma’am, Miss Hextine. Tiny no Boop the Snoot,” as he contains the wiggling, off-put gnome.

Our Bard, Tiny, was allowed to boop the snoot of Themberchaud, Gracklstugh’s red dragon. She tells the us it was worth the burn.