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Battletech lore has the best rejoinder to a villain monologue ever. When Stefan Ameris successfully conquered the Star League with a coup d'etat, 'history' records that General Alexander Kerensky reasponded to Ameris' extended gloating monologue as follows: "No."

"wait... how big is the tavern" "Oh let's say...40ft across. Why?" "..." "..." "I cast fireb-"

Challenge accepted : « Paul curse all of you in his head for convincing him to follow you there. He really hates Sunday evening right now. Waves of worlds submerge the tiny space where you all sit with a beverage behind you on the wooded table. Paul doesn’t even dare to take is drink as you left him maybe the worst spot around the table. Not only the folk in this dump is very loud, very drunk, they also enjoy their moment in dancing and don’t stop to stumble him. Jasmin smile looking at you Paul as she knows how shy you are, and she hope you will stop be yourself and relax a little. After all, all of you deserve it after what happened lately. And the smell of the bread in the hoven right behind the counter make her very satisfy. This is not a usual bread smell who surround slowly the place, it’s a sweet sugar savor that show the mastery of Brin. Only her can do a bread like this, and as some say, if the bread smell that good, the rest should be a divine feasting. Paul Grabbing the rust wooden table with both hand as Yalan bump him with her hip to pass in the crowd and serve another table with the first plate. The pasta looks nice, and the red sauce and the big ball of meat show the generosity of Brin. Yalan voice cut through all other to ask her lover for another round of milky bear. And Brin seem to swim with grace from one task for another and let the alcohol flow in six huge pinte at the same time. For you Garak, this place revives souvenir of festivity with your wild people. Yes, it was in the forest, with the breath and the vegetal smell around. But the same joy, the same kindness around you than around different pack of people assembled there. And you Kurt, you see in the small space something like a protective cocoon. Yes, there is no nice embroideries on the table. The walls are as gray as a rainy sky, but all clients make it shine with them owns colored outfit. And in truth all of you, yes even Paul, know how lucky you are to be sitting there tonight. And that before a pretty gypsy elves approach and succeed to take a place between you and unroll a map on the table. In her eyes, is this jewel, fire, gread or hope you see ? And at Paul surprise she whispers a “I expected to find you, there!” that even in this maddening noise you all can perceive perfectly.»

Brennan is my favorite villain

Not quite Greensleeves...

The remark about ex-cultists taking a warm hearth as a bad memory did spark a little writing prompt for me. "A fire roars, singing hairs off your forearm. Clangs and clatters fill your ears - steel on steel, metal sword on wooden shield. The pull of bowstrings strikes your... no. Not bowstrings. Is that a lute? You stir yourself, finding the fire contained in a hearth, calmed after some drunkard thought it'd be funny to throw their mug of ale in it. A muscular woman with a face of anger threatens to throw him out. The clangs and clatter merely the sounds of people cheering their latest adventure, bringing together their mugs and slamming them on the table. You take a deep breath. You're fine." Definitely needs refinement, but I think it'd be a fun way to bring someone in who gets lost in their backstory.

Now, this is meant for the recurring inn in my campaign, so certain NPCs are named and assumed known: "Stepping in from the busy afternoon market, the sign proclaiming “The Artful Deed” creaks lazily in the warm, dusty breeze. The inn is a place of comparative calm, for now. Ginebra, the maid, is hanging fresh bouquets of lavender, rosemary and sweetgrass from the ceiling beams to replace the old rosebud and pearl-creeper ones. The new scent partially covers the familiar vinegary ghosts of spilled wine. Meanwhile a toothless old drunkard is making a clown show out of his attempts at stealing a glimpse up her colourful skirt. Blind Aurubilitu is strumming his lute in a slowed-down improvisation over 'The Doe Queen’s Gallop' - the change of tempo makes the otherwise jaunty tune more sombre, pensive. In the back, a youthful rake deftly juggles a few knucklebones before snatching them out of the air and throwing them on the table. The sun-tanned farmhand across from him erupts in sudden jubilation and the youth covers his face in chagrin over an obviously failed dice-toss. In front of the hearth, a girl in a green dress attends to the fowl on the roasting spit, partridges by the look of it. Unai, the one-armed proprietor, is conspicious in his absence."

As the rain turns to hail, you notice a small building at the top of the cliff overlooking the harbor. Two stories, and almost as dark as the night all around it - if it weren't for the dim light emanating from the grimy windows on the ground floor. It seems that the last time they were clean was BEFORE they were installed in these walls. Two small oil lamps are desperately giving their all to illuminate the entrance. They mostly fail. As you get closer, you realize that the wood covered walls aren't pitch black, but a dark, mossy green. And are those letters over the door? Yes. Like the rest of the building, they have seen better days, and a few are missing. Perception check (difficulty 12) reveals that this place is called "The King's Galley". Oh, you rolled a 14? Then you notice that the greenish wood seems to come from wrecked ships, and parts are still covered in shells, algae and other maritime detritus. Behind the door are heavy curtains in a dark grayish brown, designed to keep the weather out. As you open them, you are ambushed by the smell of sweat, tobacco and beer. The olfactory melange is somewhat saved by candle wax and a hint of fried onions coming from the open door behind the bar. Like the whole room, that bar is built from a haphazard mix of woods. Pinewood, walnut, beech... Has this whole tavern been built out of shipwrecks, or was it just designed to look that way? The whole parlour is filled to the brim with nautical stuff. There's mooring rope everywhere, a collection of portholes nailed to random walls, one of the tables has been built out of a clearly defunct cannon... Several wooden steering wheels are hanging from the ceiling, transformed into crude chandeliers, explaining the candle part of the smell. The other smell components are coming from the unwashed pub goers around you. An obese gnome with gray muttonchops is standing behind the bar. He's wearing a blue checkered shirt, a massive brown leather apron, and he's got a dirty towel over his shoulder. What color the towel used to be is anyone's guess. His face is red from decades of alcohol, and covered in stubble. What sticks out like a sore thumb is the lanky bard in a black and blue jester's costume, standing next to the bar. He was just about to say something when you came in, and now he's waiting for you to take a seat before he continues...

love ur vids

and when they walk out the tavern there in the feywild because it was a fey crossing whole time and anyone who gets drunk in there is take to feywild

You push on the crude wooden door, which creaks on rusty hinges. Stepping through, the stench of stale beer, cheap tobacco and unwashed bodies assaults your nostrils, and the sawing and howling screeches of a talentless fiddler sounds even worse without the door muffling it. The dirt beneath your feet is sticky, almost muddy; who knows what you're stepping in - the poor light from a settled hearth struggles to illuminate the space. A long wooden table cuts the dark room in half, from behind which a gnarled and broken-faced, presumably human man eyes you suspiciously. His swollen fingers clench around a tankard, while his other hand holds a rag that may never have been clean. The man opens his mouth, revealing more gaps than teeth, and those remaining are yellowed and crooked, but says nothing. A quick glance around at the few other patrons shows you none are any cleaner, prettier, or friendlier than the man behind the table. More narrowed, squinting eyes fall upon you. You realise the fiddler, wherever they are in the gloom, has stopped their cacophony. Someone belches quietly in a corner, while two heavy-set human men appear to be eying your purses. In the intense silence, you hear knuckles cracking, and the sizzle of tobacco as someone draws on a pipe. As your eyes adjust to the haze and dark, you see a seated figure in the deep shadows beside the hearth. A cowl covers their head, and a robe makes them almost shapeless. The faintest tip of the head in your direction seems almost like an invitation...

❤❤

The question I always had is why does there seem to be only taverns as far as eating establishments go. I don't drink alcohol IRL, so I always wanted know where all the restaurants were. One may ask what's the difference? Well, taverns (bars) serve food and restaurants serve alcohol, but each establishment is defined by being where the staff devotes the majority of their time and effort.

[I won a 4E supplemental book with this once upon a time. It is still up on DM Samuel's web-page RPG Musings, I just copy & pasted from there, since it was mine to start with, though folks should feel free to use it if they desire to. The competition was for an adventure hook, but the opener includes the description of a tavern.] You find yourself in a dark inn as a result of rain falling outside. The room is dark and filled with smoke from the chimney not having been cleaned recently. The doors remain open to keep the individuals within from being overcome by the smoke. The constant sound of the rain falling creates a dull roar that washes out all but the closest of conversations. Only rarely does the thunder catch everyone off guard, because the lightning lights up almost the entire room just long enough to prepare. The moisture seems to have infused everything, and it makes the cold settle into everyone’s bones. Even the halfling serving wench seems especially surly tonight. The only good thing is that the minstrel has some tunes that are new to you, and he seems to be good with his pipes. Another crash of thunder, and this time it seemed to catch almost everyone off guard. The wench makes her rounds and refills your heated spiced rum, she seems nervous but it’s probably just the weather putting her on edge. Then someone’s voice is heard outside, the other patrons stay in their seats and one yells, “Hey you’re closer to the door, see what that racket is.” As one of the PCs gets the to the doorway, they hear someone screaming, “Fire! It’s at the church!!!”-“” (Note: If no one volunteers to go to the door the voices are heard, but the words cannot be made out until someone from outside runs to the door and shouts into the inn, “The church is afire, come quick!“)

"The Party checks their clothes at the door and enters Lady Foxx's pool party at New Brothelle." Let the Players fill in the blanks. Hemingway was not a DM. A Hook is perfect when you have removed all the fluff.

The highlight of this episode... 10:01 /jk

You are smart, and we should listen to you

What does the cloaked figure in the corner ACTUALLY want?

The Kevin Abides

Spoken by a king who has turned to making a pact with an evil god for his kingdom to prosper, starts immediately with him stomping on a rat. "Rats. Wherever they go, they bring all manner of destruction. Plagues, food shortages, larger predators that cause their own issues, structural integrity faults. Rats are, without doubt, one of the most harmful parts to our civilization. So it helps to get rid of the rats. But how do you get rid of a problem that rears its ugly head over and over again? Simple. You sever the head of the problem. You find the source of the problem, and handle it from the beginning. *brief pause as he approaches* /I/ have delivered this kingdom from the plague brought upon us by humans. /I/ have given my people the power to have enough food to last them through the harsh winters. /I/ have rebuilt this kingdom from the ground up with a greater foundation than ever before. Now it seems /I/ must weed out the 'predators' that have come to replace the vile rats formerly known as 'humans.' And believe me. /I/ will make sure this beautiful kingdom won't have to deal you /RATS/ ever again." It definitely needs work and refinement lmao

how did i run into a new highschool english teacher to have a crush on, i thought I'd had enough of these

Oberon could probably cast a glamour to appear as he wants. You should check out Dolmenwood. It’s a campaign using old school D&D tailored for the setting. It’s full of Celtic mythology and fey. It should be released to the public by January 2025.

I'll structure this monologue homework as though I was speaking directly to a player! The villain in this example is also bereft of an arm. "As you're held in place, she walks behind you and places her hand on your shoulder, lowering it down to your bicep, and she asks, 'Do you want to know what I remember most about losing my arm? It wasn't the pain, no.. our minds have a knack for blocking out pain in our memory. It was anger. It was rage.. I realized in that moment, that I'd no longer be able to tear every little insect intent on proving itself my equal, limb from fucking limb. The ultimate pleasure of feeling bones pop and crackle like pieces of charcoal in my hands is what I remember most.. I wonder what you'll remember?'"

I didn’t know I needed this

I think one thing that was missed was expression. Brennan is cold, but he’s also extremely like passionate very he’s not scared to raise his voice. He can feign hate behind his eyes so well.

Great vid! New sub. Thanks for doing this!

A great bit of informative demonstration.

just... always accept the firstborn child deals... [ doesnt say who has to be the parent, could be the fey, lmao]

I just stumbled upon this video and was wondering if you could somehow convert the 12 days of Christmas into the rooms and encounters in the dungeon.

The School flashback in the end scared me more than any and every monologue ever could O.o

You know, sometimes I hate my job. I mean after millenia, or however long it's been since you pathetic feeble creatures began your never ending crusade to destroy the very thing that gives you life, you get tired of doing the same thing over and over again. Hearing the same cries for mercy, bribes for extended time. I mean, you'd think once my presence is made known your kind, you would have some realization that it is, in fact, then end for you. But no, again, you try. Again, you believe the things you created mean anything to me. And again. And again. When you go unchecked for so long, you believe yourselves to be God. Forgetting that even his soul will be mine in the end. So, in a way, I'm just speeding up the process of a natural ending, like your kind taking, what was it called, oh right laxatives to sh*t out the bile you ate the day before.You all have your rest once you've departed. Could you imagine claiming soul after soul, watching them die in many ways but all resting peacefully the same, knowing you could never have that peace. You will never rest. I didn't ask for this job, but I'm certainly asking for f*cking break, and yet... never a response. So what do I want? I want you to hurry up and die so that I may rest. Oh, and do try to do it quietly. Your shrill voices nauseate me.

The brennan glaze is real lmao

Brennan's best villain is in Vampire the Masquerade where he, a vampire hunter working for the Inquisition, convince a vampire that he is not a bad guy and theft they can work together.

Here's mine everyone! I thought about adding context, but I'm curious how it reads without. Enjoy: Would you like to know what I think? I think you're a beast that's wandering into a forest of squirrels. In this forest, the trees are on fire, and the birds, seeking refuge, fly to the forest floor. The squirrels are terrified of this, and you recognize this terror. In all your wisdom, you beat your chest and roar, evicting them back to the flaming hells above. Me? I'm a lumberjack. Set apart from nature, enough to see the bigger picture, I begin to cut down the trees, preventing the spread of fire. I'm looked down upon as cancer to the forest; a plague that brings death to many trees... but the fires stop, and life can carry on. Do not mistake me for a monster. Do not mistake yourself for a savior. I will do what I must, and should you oppose me, then the next thing my ax will fall upon is your neck.

Hypophora Anaphora Elaboration Repetition Metaphor Exaggeration

Hypophora Anaphora Elaboration Repetition Metaphor Exaggeration

She was right… she will be seeing me next time

To be honest I'm not even using this advice for a villian. I'm trying to write the speech of a scientist losing his mind as he speaks

I am going to yous the tarot as 4 curt insparation

when order and life have a debt to pay. the power to be decided it's time for patiya to woke the world and make it little bit empty and weird - a starting of a campine

love the vid. played this adventure with some kids this week, I made the swan maiden into a dancer for the man who stole her feathers [and not his wife] but saved the rest of the story. they were charmed by the mystery around her :)

if you like \ or know critical role, season 3 have a VERY strong melee lady star-waise. i recommend looking on her if you wish for 1 person army :)

first - love you videos there a treasure second - '' if you break a law u cant get out'' apply to fairies as well? may it dis-connect one from coming back to dreamworld from the material world? can one lock someone out THERE by making him break a promise he cant fulfill when he is in the rong realm ?

I suck at monologing (and the monologue will be in a different langauge) but yall can be brutal, I can take it. Some context: the bbg is a formless creature cursed to decay in eternity. it can remain conscious while with a host, but that host will die soon after and it turns into a liquid until it is consumed again. it was an adventurer, but misshaped and struggled to fit it its entire life until a magical accident happened. "so you made down to the bottom of the pit! congratuliations dear adventurers! my utmost interested eyes were glued to your progress. I witnessed heroism, sacrifice, but also betrayel. Was... it.... worth.. it? You fools followed the leads the guilt showed you.. led you here down the hole you so naively thought of as the root of all evil in the world, unwilling or unable to check if that is the truth alright... They fed you lies and you were so eager to swallow them! look at me! LOOK AT ME... THEY DID THIS! do you believe they wont do it again? to me? to you? to... the world? I was sent down here to the bottom of the pit.. to the entrance of hell doomed to stay here for ever. I tried to crawl and creep outside only to be thrown back.. to the bottom.. of.. that.... PIT! You really wish to erase me.. to deny my chance to see the sun again,.. only once.. because.. what? You know what's good and right? You know what needs to be done.. I see! I see it clearly now! Righousness.. blind faith in what is good and right.. so be it in than. Draw your weapons rightous adventurers and claim victory over justice!

Very well articulated. Thank you. You earned a sub

This was awesome, thank you

10:57

2:40 this compilation followed by an explanation of metaphor is hilarious

As Markiplier would say, "EXPOUND"

I just saw his face & knew it was from ExU Calamity... not forgetting that in a hurry