For the 4th "homework assignment", I had the group each write an answer to the question in their character's voice what they would want to do with their share of the treasure found and the reward money for returning the Prism Crown. Had to name a personal item, a real pie in the sky sort of item, and 2 other miscellaneous items they might want to spend their money on. Also, they had to pick one item that another party member should get. After receiving it, I wove it into a story format and we presented it to the group every couple of days or so. This is the first one, Lannis Offop, the Magic User.
Being that we are PBEM and the occasional/rare meet up in person if one of us drives to another's house or half of us meet at a park to chat or maybe a firepit socially distant and responsible, these assignments are supposed to get each person to think about their character that in reality they only really have to do maybe 10 to 15 minutes each day tops.
D&D players are a weird egg; you'll get the type at the table with a full written and executed backstory of everything they've done since age 12 and conversely you'll get the other type who have no plan and make the shit up as they go consistency be damned. I also know that it's the pandemic and people are stressed between lockdown, work or lack thereof, family and the constant pressure of being with them and only them can be wearing in its own way, and the paucity of social interaction.
And D&D, for all its nerdiness and what not, is a social game. You NEED friends to play, and you NEED to be with them for hours on end for it to work well. I have been part of groups that were a dumpster fire and I have been part of groups that were keen and finely honed.
I had gotten push-back for the first time regarding this homework assignment and it really surprised me since I was under the impression that everyone was enjoying the "taste" of D&D game we were doing and that it was pretty damned low impact. Read the post, discord a quick plan, write your response and email back. But one of my longer players and good friends fired a cannonade across my port bow so to speak about his reticence in doing that and the time spent on the PBEM. The other 5 players had a completely different view on it when I questioned them individually and assured me to keep on doing the homework assignments as they are once every 5 weeks or so if that, and is a chance to further flesh out their character and the game we are playing.
Asking players to participate in the game OUTSIDE of the game is always a slippery crapshoot and I tend to avoid it, but the pandemic and lack of face time plus the low impact 'fun' assignments I felt should not unduly put anyone out. Every player is different and every group is as well, but the axiom: You get out of it what you put into it, applies to every group, game, and gathering regardless if its D&D, family, job, or life.
Follows:
Interlude - Lannis and Reward Money!
“So!” Lyra said, dropping her backpack down to the floor with a heavy jangle. “That was a hell of a day, huh?” The Cleric shoved the pack to the right with the side of her foot and lowered herself to her knees to unbuckle her leg greaves.
“Si,” Abraxas said with a foul glance at Brendon, letting his shield fall with a muted ‘TANG’ against the frame of the bed he had been sleeping on in the Barracks. Kovid’s lantern illuminated the majority of the chamber, but the corners were still shrouded in shadows, and it was there that the party’s scout was setting his gear down. “Let’s not have a repeat of that again.” He undid his sword belt, muttering, “Pendejo” as he did so, lips turned into a frown.
“Well, on a brighter note, tomorrow should be a lot easier,” Kovid gave all three of his warhammers a sharp look, running his thumbnail against the hammer’s edges, frowning at the nicks and burrs he found there. “I say we wrap up the kobolds and then get back to mapping.” He took out a small file and proceeded to hone up the edges of his weapon.
“Oui, Monsieur Dwarf,” the elf agreed. Wyn looked tired, still suffering from the wounds he had taken earlier in the day, the elf had a drawn out paleness to him that was not normal for the typically bronzed skinned demi-human. “I for one am looking forward to zee time when thees will be all a memory.” He snorted, taking out his arrows one at a time and checking the heads and quills for tightness. “A distant memory,” he added.
Brendon unlaced his boots, taking his hose off and shaking his head at the hole there. “Little bastard,” he muttered, taking out a small circle of thread and a curved needle.
“What?” Lyra asked.
“Nothing,” the Scout replied. “Nothing,” he threaded the needle and proceeded to sew up the hole in his hose that Jowass had cut there this morning. “Doesn’t matter what I say, no one ever seems to listen,” he muttered.
“Hey!” Lannis interrupted. “Speak up, man!” he removed his hat and dusted it against his leg, shaking the stray bits of grit and webbing off of it. “You going to hang out in the corner murmuring to yourself while fixing your socks, at least be entertaining.”
“Stow it, Lannis,” Brendon sighed, pulling the thread through and then pushing the needle back into the hose. “Going to be sore in the morning,” he griped.
“We all are,” Kovid replied, brows lowered as he slowly filed his hammer sharp again. “It’s part of the joy of adventuring. Plus it builds character. And we’re not anything if not characters, am I right? Ha Ha Ha!” he laughed, teeth splitting his thick beard. “Thor’s Crotch,” he swore, “I am funny.”
“Yeah,” Lannis drawled, rooting through his backpack for his spellbook and cracking it open, the heavy tome taking up the entirety of his lap. “Dwarves are known for their rapier wit and keen sense of humor. As my strange cousin used to say, ‘If you want to laugh at something, laugh at a dwarf!’”
Wyn shrugged, “Pretty sure you ‘ave that a bit wrong, Monsieur Offop.”
“I doubt it. I’m pretty smart. Everyone knows it. And I look forward to getting my share of the reward for the Colorful Elf Crown. And I hope to put all my ingredients of any color on the potions I’ll be making once we get the Rainbow Party Hat.”
“Lannis, you are being strange, even for Lannis,” Lyra had her armor off and was checking each piece to make sure it was free of cracks and rust. “It’s the Prism Crown. And we’re being paid very well to go and get it as well as all the treasures we’ve found so far.”
“True, true,” the Magic User grinned, flicking his hair out of his face. “I have big plans for my portion of that sweet sweet gold.”
“Really?” Kovid asked, one brow raised. “You? So tell me, Big Brain, when all this is over, what will you do with your share of the treasure we've found as well as the reward the Academy is paying us for the return of the Prism Crown?”
“Whatever I want. It’s mine.”
“Seriously,” the dwarf pushed, lowering his hammer and folding one leg over the other. He fixed the Magic User with an open look. “It’s a lot of money, just the finder’s fee. 200 gold crowns. That’s almost 7 years nominal pay.” He swept his hand towards Lannis, “What are your plans?”
The rest of the group all stopped to look at Lannis who returned their questioning glances with an exhausted resignation look. “Really?” he asked, closing his tome and tilting his head back, “What will I do with it?”
He tapped his chin, thin shoulders hunched forward as he mused. “What will I be doing with my share of the treasure you ask? Hmm, I suppose I HAVE been giving it some thought. First thing I'll do is get my own domicile.” He leaned back, gazing up at the ceiling with a faint smile on his face. “Staying at the Academy has grown quite odious, one can simply never get a moment a moment of quiet to one's self. While I'm quite sure mumsy is counting the days until my return…”
“Mumsy?” Wyn asked, head cocked
“My mother. Don’t elves have moms or do you just appear in a rainbow cloud of unicorn farts and broken accents?”
“I ‘ave a mom, Monsieur. But I don’t refer to ‘er as mumsy.”
“I’m sure you refer to her as ‘Lady of the House’ or in your case, ‘Lady of the Moss Covered Shanty’. Now where was I? Oh yes! Mumsy! I don't think I should like to have a roommate any more, certainly not once I'm a wealthy adventurer, that's right, no more sharing a bed for this guy!”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Kovid held his hand up. “You shared a bed with your mom? What are you, 5?”
“This is going to take all day if you keep interrupting me, ok?” Lannis grabbed the lapels of his robes and pulled them straight. “Ah yes! In addition, I would buy a collection of brand new robes in vibrant red.” He snapped his hands sharply off the fabric, making it ‘thwock’ loudly. “I'll not spend one more day wearing these pink nightmares. If you don't know how to do your job, which clearly that washer woman didn't, don't get mad when I correct you."
“I thought it wasn’t the washer woman’s fault,” Brendon tried to say but Lannis cut him off quickly.
“HER fault! Incompetent, a liar, and useless to boot. She should be out collecting field nuggets from the cow pasture since that’s all she’s obviously good for.” He snapped his fingers with a sense of finality. “Now, back to me. What else? Ah, my new home. With its own lab. MY lab. Mine.”
He frowned, “But the lab in my new home would feel incomplete without one important item.”
“What, Senor Lambis? Wot would it be?” Abraxas asked.
“My very own alembic, perfectly weighted, and no one will be allowed to touch them, much less throw them. Oh no,” he chuckled, “MY home is a no throwing zone for all lab equipment and literature. These rules will be easier to enforce of course with my most important of purchases, a special item I'll be having made to my specifications.”
“Dead hooker mounted to a pole?” Lyra offered with a grin.
“No, your mom’s not available,” he quipped back.
“Hey!” She exclaimed, tossing a worn pillow from the bed at him.
“I’ll tell you this much, Lyra. You are at least fishing in the right pond.” He held his hands up, just a bit smaller than his own height. “Now normally when you picture a Golem, you envision a large, hulking brute, right?”
“No one typically envisions a Golem, Manling,” Kovid said, beard wagging.
“I know, I know. Smart people and wizards who can re-sequence the foundations of matter with only a whim do. Pay attention. Golems. Did you know you can make them however you want?”
“Oh gods,” Lyra said, rubbing her temples, whispering low enough for Brendon and Wyn to hear her, “here it goes. It’ll be a broad, mark my words.”
“Mine will be the picture femininity,” Lannis said eyes gleaming with excitement, “painted in the finest flesh tones and wearing the most high end of maid outfits.”
“What a pig. I’m sure he’ll also fill it with semen every time he gets the urge. Shithead.” The Scout and the elf both nodded, mouthing apologies to the Cleric as Lannis continued speaking, not aware that he had already lost the attention of half the room.
“If I plan to have something doing my chores all the time it should at least be pleasing to the eye, right? Right? Right? Guys? Right?"
Abraxas had turned his attention back to his own weapon, whetstone scraping across the sword blade in slow rasping motions. The other three across the chamber were whispering amongst themselves. Only Kovid was giving the Magic User any attention, his hammer held on his thighs, hands holding the hilt lightly. “Well?” Lannis asked, “Pretty good use of my reward money, huh?”
The dwarf waited a few seconds and then chuckled, “Lannis, Lannis, Lannis. Ol’ Big Brain,” he pointed the hammer head at the far door of the Barracks, “He should go down to the local Hatter and get himself an adjustable hat. Better yet,” he snapped his fingers, “he should buy out the Hatter’s services for the next 7 years. Like a puppy this Hatter would follow the Manling, Lannis around, measuring his ever expanding head and documenting his brain growth.”
Lannis was frowning as Kovid continued his thoughts, “When Lannis’s brain gets so large it pushes out all of his hair, the chilly night air won’t bother his bald head, because he’ll always have a hat that fits just right.” He smiled deeply, “That’s what you should do with your money. If and when you get a chance to spend it.”
“You have no idea what’s a good idea, Kovid. I have great ones.”
Nodding and grinning, he lifted his hammer again and proceeded to once more tend to its surface. “Oh,” Kovid replied, “I’ll be sure to build the door frames of the Alehouse extra wide for when you visit.”
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