The Chucklefucks

At the start of 2015, I kicked off a D&D campaign with some co-workers. It was a hilarious group and our adventures were… ridiculous. I chronicled them as well as I could on a blog, called The Chucklefucks. Depending on when you are reading this, it might still exist. If so, it’s at If not however, I’ve archived everything that was over there below for the curious a little while after our group fell apart due to timing and schedule conflicts that arose once we moved to a new office. The overview is below, with the session journals below that. If you want to jump straight to the fun bits, they are at the bottom of this page.

So, what’s going to happen to these folks? Who knows! I least of all, given how much these guys are prone to some *highly* questionable decisions.

The campaign is starting off kind of easy. We have one seasoned veteran, one who’s dipped his toes before, and 2 who have never been down this path. Because of that, I’m taking my time with them to ease them in. At the start, we’re working off the already established Hoard of the Dragon Queen adventure, so I can focus less on world building and more on hand-holding. Before long though the training wheels are coming off and we’re going to be driving more and more into a story of my own creation I’ve been tweaking for some time, though still set within Forgotten Realms.

Expect the site to be updated semi regularly a day or so after each session ends with a recap from myself.  Hopefully we’ll also see posts from the players own point of view from time to time, and there’s also going to be in depth character bios that evolve and grow as the character does. I’ve also given them the ability to comment in-line on the recaps as well if they have any extra color commentary. (Other readers have asked to do the same, but for the time being I’m limiting it to members of the campaign only. I’ll keep an open mind however and revisit the issue if it makes sense.)

How often these posts show up is entirely up to the players. Right now our scheduling is kind of funky, and while we AIM for 2 sessions a month the reality is that we’ve had a lot of scheduling issues of late. It’s further complicated by one player who has a restrictive schedule out side of work.. but we’re determined to make it happen! Hopefully, with the occasional post from the players being shared on their own, it will keep this site relatively engaging on a weekly basis.. we shall see.

Any time you see a post formatted like this, by the way, you’re seeing some notes from me in a 4th wall breaking, DMs point of view, just an FYI.

The posts themselves do little justice. This group is just off the walls hilarious. As a result, I’m toying with the idea of streaming it or pod-casting it in some way as well. That’s a ways a ways however so don’t hold your breath just yet.

So who are The Chucklefucks?

Arach aka Matt

(1,300 xp)

[Bio coming in the not too distance future once someone sends it to me!]

Qwaar’jet aka Dillon

(1,275 xp)

[Bio coming in the not too distance future once someone sends it to me!]

Itkovian aka Jordan

(1,250 xp)

[Bio coming in the not too distance future once someone sends it to me!]

Kill Count

A running tally of that which has been smited by our intrepid heroes.

  • Ambush Drake – 2
  • Humans
    • Acolytes – 4
    • Cultists – 14
    • Mercenaries – 6
  • Kobolds – 14
  • Swarms of Rats – 2

And one sewer gate, unceremoniously ripped from it’s hinges by two people at once, when it was already unlocked…

The Honorable Dead

(01/08/2015) – Itkov… errr never mind. That was a close one though.

You can only fudge the rules so much. After 3 natural 1’s you have to give in to fate. A close call indeed.

Chapter 0: Prologue

4 Adventurers 5 Chucklefucks. A Gnome Monk of questionable morals. A Half-Elf Warlock who only barely toes the line of Good in Chaotic Good, and an inseparable pair of a Human Cleric and Dragonborn Barbarian, both of which could have written the book on Chaotic Neutral. Lastly there is the recent addition, a Half Elf Bard with a kleptomania for books who is doing everything she can to keep them alive.

The unlikeliest of a group, brought together by the random-est of circumstances (and perhaps a bit of divine intervention).

Many grand adventures await them… if they can manage to get their shit together long enough to survive.

Seriously, this group is in over their heads. Two seasoned D&D players, 1 novice, and 2 newbies. It doesn’t help that these guys have a flair for the unconventional. I’m having to go slightly out of my way to not kill them… for now… but the training wheels will come off soon and gods help them when they do. I plan to ease them into things with the Hoard of the Dragon Queen campaign, and then transition to machinations of my own design… if they last that long.

Chapter 1: Dragons Aren’t That Chatty

A Gnome, a Half Elf, a Dragonborn, and a Human walk into a bar… no, seriously that’s what happened. Not at the same time mind you… (well, the Dragonborn and the Human did). While they were all headed the same way towards Baldurs Gate, it was all for different reasons. Arriving at this unassumingly routine bar along the way, they each in turn did the usual “hey Innkeep, what’s the word?”. They all got the same response, more or less, though the Dragonborn elicited a “Gods you’re a big sucker” as a preface.

Word on the road was Raiders had taken a shine to the farmlands and villages in the Greenlands. Why they had appeared in an organized force was anyone’s guess. Whatever the reason may be, the roads were definitely not as safe as they had been. In the course of the evening, between conversations with the Innkeep and overhearing each other, our four friends gravitated towards one another. The roads may have been sketchy but these 4 gentlemen clearly were a cut above. Odds were that the the combined sum of them were scarier than any typical highwaymen might be, or so they planned.

Continuing on together, after a few days they crested a small rise along the road. Seeing smoke in the distance they wanted to get a better view of what might lay ahead, knowing they were not far from the town of Greenest. To say they were surprised to see the town besieged, the tiny dots of Raiders swarming the town, buildings on fire, and an angry Blue Dragon circling overhead spouting lighting would be an understatement. They were even more surprised when Itkovian loudly declared “The lives of the innocents!” and charged headlong across the fields to the town, a mile away.

Arach, not missing a beat, grunted in lieu of rolling his eyes, and in one swift motion swung Melman onto his shoulders and charged ahead to keep up with his bro. Qwaar’jet, still standing on the rise, look at them heading off and declared “Really? We’re doing this?” to no one in particular, and sighed… starting off at a much more modest walk.

Arriving at the town they found chaos, but a chaos they could use to their advantage. Raiders were all over, looting and setting fire, while Villages all fought back in groups or were fleeing towards the Keep in the center of town. Periodically the Dragon would make a flyover, casually tossing lightning in places inconvenient for pretty much everyone on the ground. Making their way to the Keep, the party began to run across a wide field towards the keep when they were caugh off guard by a low fly-by of the Dragon overhead. Arach, in his infinite wisdom, tried to say hello while the rest of them succumbed to it’s Dragon Fear. It seemed however the Dragon was in no mood to talk.

Once at the Keep, they were allowed in by a wary set of guards, overseen by a moderately drunk Dwarf who was the Castellan of the Keep. Once aware they were not part of the Raiders, they were directed towards the Governor of the town to explain their presence, and potentially be put to work. Chatting withe Governor Nighthill, they offered up their services on multiple fronts, checking in on a group of villagers barricaded within the Temple, making sure the Mill down by the river was secured, and hopefully gain some intel on just who these Raiders were and why they were in town.

Before heading out however, Arach felt that it was a grand plan to try to head up to the battlements and strike up a conversation with the Dragon patrolling the skies above. Goaded on by Qwaar’jet it almost proved disastrous as he seemingly made it more angry instead, by referring to it as “Dragon Bro”. After a few dive bombing runs and lightning blasts, Arach took the hint and ran back inside to join Qwaar’jet who was doing his very best to hide his surprise that the tactic didn’t work as planned.

In order to exit the besieged Keep quietly, the Castellan lead the party through some lower rooms and out a drainage tunnel. Giving them the key to the external gate at the far end, they made their way down the dark winding passage. Along the way they encountered two other gates, one of which put up some resistance and required a bit of elbow grease to open. At the second, based on past experiences, they proactively teamed up a two-man maneuver to try to force it open on the first try. Imagine Melman’s surprise when Arach came crashing down on top of him, as the gate effortlessly opened in response to their full force, having never been locked in the first place. The rest of the way was a mostly uneventful trip, aside from two swarms of rats that took offense to being disturbed. Both of which were quickly dispatched, though at one point Itkovian managed to firmly plant his mace squarely into an iron bar above him, bouncing it back into his own forehead. Broken and bleeding, a healing potion saved him from death but not from the ridicule of his companions.

Reaching the exit gate of the sewer, they prepared a short rest before heading out into the darkness. Their first target… the temple.

I’m not adverse to killing my players. It happens from time to time in any campaign and is part of the role. You don’t always enjoy it however, and it’s especially awkward to kill someone off on the first adventure. (Though doing so can be quite an effective method of keeping players in line!) I had no desire of an early death for Itkovian, but lord knows he tried his best to earn one. 3 natural ones, in a row, during combat can’t be ignored. At a certain point you just have to let the guy smash himself in the face and be done with it. The max damage he rolled after was just insult to injury… literally. I hate deus ex machina, but when the cleric of your party is lying broken and beaten at 1hp after his very first encounter… with Rats… you options are few. Retconning a pair of healing potions form the Castellan seemed the sensible solution at that point.

Chapter 2: If the church is a burnin’, there’s probably no sermon.

Recovering from Itkovian’s harrowing experience with the Sewer Rats, the group  cautiously emerged from the drainage gate into the bushes along the river bank. Noticing a patrol up ahead, they prepared to get into position to attack from a point of advantage when suddenly a shout and bolt of energy erupted from an exuberant Qwaar’jet who had taken it upon himself to decide now was the time to engage.

He tends to do that… you’ll see.

Scrambling into range, the rest of the party followed suit, making short work of the group Raiders with minimal excitement, but for a while there they were a bit worried… especially since after Qwaar’jet’s surprise bolt of fuck-you-energy, he hid back behind the rocks. Continuing along the river bank, they followed the cover of a treeline to quietly approach the Temple. The Governor has mentioned that a large number of the village, most of the folks from the east side, had sought refuge inside with a limited number of guards, barricading it from Raiders.

Quietly moving through the trees, the group almost completely passed by a Half Elf hiding in the shadows, until Qwaar’jet noticed her at the last moment. Caught, she emerged in an nonthreatening manner, and while the rest of the party tried to get a grasp on who she was, Qwaar’jet was busy trying to get a grasp on her phone number (well assuming a world in which phones existed). Instead, he stammered like a fool over her admittedly stunning looks. It could be said he was smitten. It could also be said he was completely unable to hide the fact, and the party grimaced in mutual awkwardness as new words like “m’lady”, “stunningly divine”, and “angelic” poured from his normally salty mouth. She claimed to be a Bard, and was visiting the town as a researcher when things broke out. She was attempting to get back to the Temple to help some villagers she knew who were trapped inside, and given that she might prove useful (especially in the keeping Itkovian alive department) they welcomed her along for the time being.

Coming to the edge of the treeline, they discovered the temple besieged as expected. An organized group was trying to break down the front door, while a smaller group harassed the rear. Encircling the entire temple ground was another group, but they were methodically enough that if carefully managed they wouldn’t be much of a threat to a well organized group.

I think we’ve established by now this is not a well organized group.

Luring the read guard to the low stone wall demarcating the temple grounds, they were quickly dispatched and the group made their way inside, hastened by the fact the Priests inside recognized Rheia, their new companion. Once in, they quickly ushered out the villagers into the woods, trying to clear the building before the front door was breached and the patrol returned around the back. They made it, with mere seconds to spare. (It’s amazing how motivated scared villagers can be to hustle when Kobolds and Raiders are trying to battering ram down the front doors!)

The Villagers were sent back on their way towards the sewer grate into the Keep, with the handful of Guards trapped inside with them as protection. The party diverted, following the river down towards the Mill, hoping to save the town’s stores from further destruction. Qwaar’jet made a heavy handy and not-so-subtle attempt to travel side by side with Rheia, chatting her up as he could. If she was aware of his advances, no one could tell, but the party could definitely tell what he was up to. The charm and suave was dripping off him in a most awkward, and hilarious way. It was quite likely if the phrase “Stunning specimen of beautify” came out of his mouth one more time, Itkovian’s fist was going into it. Arriving at the Mill, there was a respectable but small number of Raiders outside trying to break in, comprised entirely of humans. They were easily dispatched with little worry, and the group made their way inside, hoping to fortify themselves for a bit while the Castellan sent a relief group to hold it long term.

Unfortunately for the party, the group trying to break in was a ruse, and having fallen for it, they did not check the interior as thoroughly as they could have, only making a cursory once over. Because of that, no one though to check the upper lofts, and as a result they were *quite* surprised when roughly 8 Cultists and Guards poked out from behind cover, preparing to rain spears down upon them.


Can we just take a moment to point out the hilarity of Qwaar’jet trying to get in the pants of character of the DM’s girlfriend? Dis gonna be good. I’m looking forward to how this plays out and encouraging it every chance I can. Also, based on how he flirts, I’m quite certain he has a fedora…

I also wish I had a way to show you their faces as I was rolling dice and counting down the time until the front door was breached as they tried to usher folks out the back. I think we came perilously close to part of the group saying “Screw you guys, I’m out!” and booking it for the woods.

Chapter 3: Dragon-kin on Dragon-kin action.

When we last left our beloved comrades, there was a hail of spears about to rain down upon them. Sadly, they were not very careful in looking at their surroundings, and now found themselves attacked from all sides by 8 Cultists and Raiders. Forming a defensive huddle, they staved off most of the worst, and fought back. While Melman took a rather savage Spear to the leg, Rheia was able to quickly heal him and get him back into fighting shape. The rest of the group fought valiantly, though once more Itkovian almost took the arm off one of his comrades. He really needs to learn to get his Mace under control…

Once the Mill was secured, again, relief units arrived from the Keep. They thanked the party and asked them to return post-haste. The attackers seemed to be pulling back from parts of the town, but a large force was seen heading towards the keep. What was previously nothing more than a cursory assault to keep those in the keep staying within now looked to turn into an all out assault!

Returning through the sewer tunnels, the group met up with the Castellan and Governor. Having only had just enough time to give an update on the night’s events, a large war horn sounded at the front gate. Gathering at the ramparts they looked down to see the Raiders forces 100 some strong parting to reveal several human prisoners at the business end of an array of weapons, with a massive blue Half-Dragon standing in front of them.

Facing the Keep, he bellowed out a challenge. Send their bravest warrior, and if they faced him in 1 to 1 combat, regardless of the outcome, he would set the prisoners free. Fail to do so, however, and he would kill the prisoners where they stand, and perhaps even assault the Keep in force before his forces withdrew.

The captain of the guard, a fierce woman, was quick to try to rush the gates to accept the challenge, after all it was her own family she saw held prisoner below.  Arach had other ideas, however. Eager for the chance to challenge one of his own kind, he offered to step in for the fight. He shouted his acceptance from the ramparts, and made his way to the gates. On the way down, the rest of the party began to plan an intricate plan using Itkovian’s War Cleric powers, Melman’s over all sneakiness,  and Rheia’s healing abilities to put together a cunning plan to stack the deck in their odds. As the gate opened however, and the Half-Dragon stepped forward, he added an addendum to his challenge: It would be 1 on 1, and any interference of any kind from any third parties immediately made the lives of the prisoners forfeit, including magic.


Arach, prideful and blood thirsty, strode forward without much worry of this change of plans. The party however, looked at each other and cringed. The hulking size of the Challenger, the army around him, and toll the night had taken on the party made them all think the same… they were about to be one Barbarian short soon.

Marching to his fate, Arach asked his Challenger his name.. Landedrosa Cyanwrath he replied. Not that it mattered, he added, as he would soon be dead.

Technically he was right. The fight lasted seconds, it took only two hits from Cyanwrath for Arach to fall in a bloodied heap. He hadn’t even managed to connect once on him. It was a farce of a fight and once the dust had settled Cyanwrath laughed.

“An unworthy challenger, but I am a warrior of my word. Release the prisoners, and let’s be gone. Tonight has been fruitful and rewarding…we’re done here.” He bellowed. With a single hand motion his forces turned and followed him, moving out of the town after the already departing main forces into the dark wilderness.

The party rushed out the gates to Arach’s side. Broken, bloodied, and unconscious, he was not long for this world. Itkovian was quite distressed more than anyone, but fortunately a combination of the healers from inside the keep and Rheia’s own abilities stabilized him. The Governor ushered the group inside to a quiet area to rest and heal while the town tried to assess the damage, put out fires, and make things safe once more.

Struggling back to consciousness as the healing took effect Arach opened one eye… “Did I get him?” he asked.

Due to time constraints this was a rather short session. That being said, a fun one. Matt/Arach is one of the newbies of the group, and while a seasoned player knows that a DM can and will throw a Kobayashi Maru at you from time to time (with reasonable predetermined consequences), he did not. It’s safe to say being taken down to 3 HP in one blow, and knocked unconscious with the second was not something he anticipated. Also, being not fully aware of just how hard it is to *actually* die, the panic on his face was quite real. I won’t lie… I enjoyed it a little.

Also my apologies if these notes were a bit short and rushed. This particular session I kept less than idea notes on, and as it was before the time of running this blog I was not better prepared to archive things. I promise it won’t always be like that!

Chapter 4: Good Cop, Bad Cop

Having been assured by the Governor that the town had things well under control enough on their own and that group should enjoy a hard earned rest, the group awoke to a town trying to pull itself back together. Grim, but organized and determined, the townsfolk had things well under way.

The Governor approached the group after the awoke and collected themselves around noon with an offer: Track the Raiders to their camp, find out what they were after and why, and return with the valued information in one piece. In return they would earn 1,000 gold for their efforts. Qwaar’jet was hesitant at first… after all the town had barely survived being nearly razed to the ground. He wanted assurances that the rewards were real. Begrudgingly, the Governor took them deep within the keep to the vaults and made it clear that while the town was as it seemed, a simply quiet farming village deep in the grasslands, it was also well off. As the center of commerce, trade, and quite honestly the only real town for 50 miles in any direction, they were the center of government as well. As such, the regional government made sure the keep was well provisioned, and the Governor was well within his rights to apportion some of that funding to rewarding the adventurers… if they earned it.

Preparing to set off, they were approached by a young man with his leg braced and on a hastily made crutch. He had caught wind of their mission, and asked they keep an eye out for his fellow Monk and mentor, Leosin. Their group had been tracking the Raiders for months, and had recently arrived in town having caught wind of the band camped not far away. Before they could head out in search however the attack had begun and they found themselves wrapped up in the defenses. Unfortunately, their leader Leosin had disappeared in the brawl and  had not been seen since the night before. The apprentice was worried that he may have been foolish enough to try to slip away with the Raiders as a spy… or worse been captured. All he asked was they keep an eye out for him, and rescue him if found. They agreed and set off.

The Raiders were easy to track… waist high grasslands make the 50 yard wide path of a few hundred marauding raiders easy to follow. The traveled a good 6 miles, across the fields, through light woods, and around and between slow rolling hills. Coming across a small area between low hills they saw smoke from a small campfire rising from behind a cluster of rocks that had fallen from the hillsides above. Surely it was not the Raiders camp, but being smack dab in the middle of the path it was unlikely to be someone unrelated to them.

They approached cautiously, from within cover behind the rocks. Qwaar’jet climbed above to get a better view, and saw a small campfire below with 6 Kobolds in a nook within the rooks eager eating a meal, and 4 more humans a respectable distance away relaxing. It was clear both groups were avoiding each other, and the humans were quite at ease, with their weapons resting against the rocks.  Both groups were garbed in the clothing of the Radiers form the night before, and clearly were a part of them.

Seeing an opportunity, Qwaar’jet fired off a volley at the nearest Kobold, knocking it flat in one hit. The rest of the group rushed in from either side in pairs, with a clear advantage. The kobolds were easily dispatched and the humans themselves never stood a chance being unarmed and quickly cutoff from their weapons. One human however did panic and run away in the melee, but as he headed away from both the town and the Raiders tracks, little concern was paid to him. All in all it was an easy fight (though some back sides did pucker when Itkovian whiffed his mace inches over Arach’s head and based it against the rocks just above him while once again fumbling an attack. ) One human quickly surrendered, and when the dust settled Qwaar’jet interrogated him. Skillfully playing off being both the Bad Cop and the Good Cop due to a little magic and some seriously good charisma, he broke the poor man quickly. (It helped that Arach pretended to eat a Kobold’s body from behind the rocks… what he was really doing back there to create those sounds… well… we probably don’t want to know.)

Having gleaned all they could, they sent the terrified fellow on his way back to town with the stolen good he and his fellow possessed, and a note written to the Governor asking them to spare his life. (During the questioning it was clear his job was more on the conscripted side and less on the “hurty-hurty stabby-stabby for fun” so they felt the second chance was warranted.)

The group then decided it was late enough in the day they should rest up for the night. The Raiders were far too large to make any real progress faster than the 5 of them could make, so there was little fear of them outpacing them over the night. Indeed it was far more likely they had already reached their camp and were settled in for the night… and so our fine friends live to fight another day.

Melman was strangely quiet this trip. He basically followed along like a mindless zombie, albeit to his credit an effective killing machine. Qwaar’jet Earned himself some bonus points as well due to rather fine role playing and an impressive interrogation sequence… glad *someone* is taking their job serious! To say assholes puckered when Itkovian rolled a 1 and was at risk of smacking Arach is an understatement. Followers of this story will likely remember this is not the first time, not even the second time, this has happened for Itkovian. With any luck he will learn to get his shit together… the one good point at least is that insofar he has only ever harmed himself.

So far.