Date Prep With A Level 8 Druid

lvl 8 ogre mage seeks moon queen or druid

I am a lvl 8 warrior seeking my adventuring companion for game play and fornication. I partake in only adventure/fantasy role play, no creepy goth stuff, it’s too weird. Only sanctioned spells allowed, costume dress optional but preferred. I have the body of a wandering Norwegian brawler and short brown hair. Please send pics, leves, preferred adventure type and spell list. We could go get dinner (under $20), and watch a movie. Also I’m allergic to cats.


So you answered an ad on a dating board. His name was Chris. You know two things about him: he's allergic to cats, and he's broke. You agreed to meet. The hair's up, black dress is tight, Jimmy Choos sparkling, and three squirts of Pussies In Heat on the back of your neck.

And now let's see how Chris prepares........................

Chris, or Drogar, First Guardsmith of The Seven Condors, gets ready in his pre-fabricated space pod module he built out of orange juice crates and refrigeration tubing.

"I must first release my flaxen manseed," he mutters to himself, jumping into the shower with a cutout of a forest green elf he extracted from a box of expired soup crackers, and some scented Jergens he swiped from his sister. He masturbates rhythmically to his favorite Viking tune, "Don't Fuck a Two-Headed Norseman."

Drying off with a fecally stained antelope pelt, Drogar prepares some jokes for conversation with his date. "That time I switched a 256 kHz band port tubing with a multi-platform fuse integrator," he ponders, "that story killed at DragonCon Omaha." She will not be able to resist such free-spirited antics.

Drogar prepares his Spiderman Underoos, combat boots and elongated moose hide for adornment, and sprays his chest with a steaming cup of fresh fox urine. His beard free of earwig parts, he trudges out the door.

He passes his father in the driveway, "Aye me Father, I am on my way to engage a fair maiden!"
His father ignores him, and continues shovelling the Ivy League law school applications addressed to his son into the garbage as he sobs uncontrollably.

The bus ride is empty, as the passengers ran screaming into the forest once he boarded the bus.

Stepping to your doorstep, he knocks twice and you open.

"Aye Fairest Maiden", he bellows "we shall ingest the finest meats and cheeses this evening until our Bellies are Splitting!"

You slam the door, then re-open it, and throw a stray cat directly at his face.

Dejected, bleeding profusely, and inflamed from hives, Drogar rides another empty bus home.

To whack it to the elf.

Whackin' it again to that goddamn motherfuckin' elf.

Thanks to the 13 people who submitted this ad! And RP'ers I kid, I kid! Suggested by an RP'er!