Joke

[Pseudonym]

// I think this is fairly PG //

One day there was a young swordsman who wanted more than anything to be the greatest fighter in all of Layonara. He practiced every minute of his spare time, but he knew that he wasn't yet first-rate and that there must be something he was doing wrong.

Sitting in the Wild Surge one Saturday night, he recognised an elderly dwarf standing at the bar who had the reputation of being the doughtiest fighter in the West. The young swordsman took a place next to the oldtimer, Kobal Bluntaxe, bought him an ale and told him the story of his great ambition.

"Do you think you could give me some tips?" he asked.

Kobal looked him up and down and said, "Aye lad, show me your stuff."

The swordsman took out his sword and rattled off a few moves.

"Well, for one ting, you're holdin' your sword too high laddie. Hold it a little lower on da handle lad."

"Will that make me a better swordsman?" asked the young man.

"Sure will" replied Kobal. The young man did as he was told, whipped out his sword and did an amazing riposte that took the bow tie off the piano player sitting nearby.

"That's terrific!" said the hot shot. "Got any more tips for me?"

"Yep," said old Kobal. "Cut a notch out of your scabbard where the blade exits. That'll give you a smoother draw."

"Will that make me a better swordsman?" asked the younger man.

"You bet it will" said the dwarf.

The young man took out his knife, cut a notch in the scabbard, stood up, drew his sword in a blur, then cut a cufflink off the piano player in an amazing move.

"Wow!" exclaimed the swordsman. "I'm learnin' somethin' here. Got any more tips?"

The old dwarf pointed to a large can in a corner of the inn.

"See that axle grease over there? Coat your sword with it."

The young man went over to the can and smeared some of the grease on the handle of his sword.

"No" said the grizzled old dwarf, "I mean smear it all over the sword, handle, blade and all."

"Will that make me a better swordsman?" asked the young man.

Kobal grinned, "No, but when Remi gets done playing the piano, he's gonna insert it where the sun don't shine and it won't hurt nearly as much if it's all greased!"

[Stephen_Zuckerman]

*Cackle*

[Pseudonym]

// Motto ... spread your attribute points!! //

Karana Elksoul was on vacation and hiking through the Firesteep Peaks. She very much wanted to take home a pair of genuine dragon skin shoes, but was somewhat reluctant to pay the high prices the local kobold vendors were asking.
After becoming very frustrated with the "no haggle on prices" attitude of one of the shopkeepers, Karana shouted,
"Well then, maybe I'll just go out and catch my own wyrmling so I can get a pair of shoes for free!"

The kobold shopkeeper said with a sly, knowing smile,
"Little lady, just go and give it a try!"

So Karana headed into the caverns, determined to catch a wyrmling.

Later in the day, as the kobold shopkeeper is wearily trodding home, he spots Karana, waist deep in a lava filled cave, axe raised above her head. Just then, he spots a huge 20 foot wyrmling flying rapidly towards her. With lightning speed, she takes aim, kills the creature and hauls it onto the bank of the cave.

Lying nearby were 8 more of the dead creatures, all lying on their backs.

The kobold shopkeeper stood on the bank, watching in silent amazement. Karana struggled and flipped the wyrm onto its back. Rolling her eyes heavenward and screaming in great frustration, she shouts out,

"BUGGER ... THIS ONE'S BAREFOOT, TOO!"

[Polak76]

A well disguised drow woman travelling on her way alighted at a poor inn, and they asked for her name. She answered, "Elixtha Baelheur Vhith'aedra Eshan-tilissti" Whereunto they replied, "Madam, we have not meat enough
for so many."

A certain jealous husband (Arkolio in many many years to come) followed his wife to confession; whom when the priest of Corath should lead behind the alter to be displied (disciplined by beating), the husband, perceiving it, and doubting the worst, cried unto him, saying, "hear ye, Dread Priest, I pray you let me be displied for her."
And kneeling down before the priest, "I pray you," quod the wife
to the priest, "strike him hard, for I am a great sinner."

Here are some medieval pick up lines:
Medieval Pick-Up Lines

Cheers,
Polak76

[Pseudonym]

// Plot quest related joke //

One afternoon an adventurer was riding his noble steed when he saw two men along the roadside eating grass. Disturbed, he drew reign on his horse and dismounted to investigate.

He asked one man, "Why are you eating grass?"
"We don't have any money for food," the poor man replied. "We have to eat grass."
"Well, then, you can come with me to my mansion in Leringard and I'll feed you," the adventurer said.
"But sir, I have a wife and two children with me. They are over there, under that tree."
"Bring them along," the adventurer replied.

Turning to the other poor man he stated, "You come with us, also."
The second man, in a pitiful voice, then said, "But sir, I also have a wife and SIX children with me!"
"Bring them all, as well," the adventurer answered graciously.

They all jumped on the horse, which was no easy task, even for a horse as mighty and noble as this one was. Once underway, one of the poor fellows turned to the adventurer and said, "Sir, you are too kind. Thank you for taking all of us with you."

The mighty hero replied, "Glad to do it. You'll really love my place. The grass is almost a foot high!"

[Polak76]

In the middle of a forest, there was a hunter who was suddenly confronted
with a huge, mean bear. In all his fears, his attempt to loosen an arrow at the bear was unsuccessful. Thus, he turned away and started to run as fast as he could.
Finally, he ended up at the edge of a very steep cliff. His hopes were dim.
But, he got on his knees, opened his arms and said,

"My God! Please give this bear some religion!"

Then, there was a lightning in the air and the bear stopped just a feet short
of the hunter. The bear was puzzled and looked up in the air and said,

"My God! What you are about to receive ... "

[Pseudonym]

A roguey-shadowdancer type broke into a house one night. He shined his hooded lantern around, looking for valuables, and when he picked up a nice mithril shield to place in his sack, a strange, disembodied voice echoed from the dark saying, "Toran is watching you." He nearly jumped out of his skin, blew out the tiny flame in the lantern, and froze.

When he heard nothing more after a bit, he shook his head, promised himself a vacation after the next big score, then lit the lantern again and began searching for more valuables.

Just as he pulled the Titanium enhancement type IV off the shelf, clear as a bell he heard, "Toran is watching you." Freaked out he shone his lantern around frantically, looking for the source of the voice. Finally, in the corner of the room, his lantern light came to rest on a parrot.

"Did you say that?" He hissed at the parrot.

"Yep," the parrot confessed, and then squawked, "I'm just trying to warn you."

The rogue relaxed. "Warn me, huh? Who in the world are you?"

"Rofirein" replied the bird.

"Rofirein?" the burglar laughed.

"What kind of people would name a bird Rofirein?"

"The kind that would name their Rottweiler Toran."

[Pseudonym]

Rhizome was cruising along the beach doing his normal druidy thing when there was a frantic commotion just off-shore. A helpless man, wearing the cassock of an Aeridin Priest was struggling frantically to free himself from the jaws of a 25 foot shark.

As Rhizome watched in horror, a boat pulled up with three men wearing black skull-covered robes of Corath. One quickly fired a harpoon into the shark's side while the other two reached out and pulled the hapless Aeridinite from the water. Then, using long clubs, the three beat the shark to death and hauled it into the boat.

Immediately Rhizome shouted and summoned them to him.
"I give you my blessing for your brave actions. I heard that there were some bitter hatred between the Corathites and the Aeridinites, but now I have seen with my own eyes that this is not true. It is lovely to see a balance!"

As Rhizome took off, the Corathite harpooner asked his buddies:
"Who was that?"
"It was Rhizome," one replied. "He is in direct contact with the Oak and is a font of wisdom."
"Well" the harpooner said, "he may have access to the Oak and his wisdom, but he doesn't know anything about shark fishing. Is the bait holding up OK or do we need to get another one?"

[Pseudonym]

While on holiday in the Forest of Fog and walking through the bush, Nye the druid comes across an elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seems distressed so Nye approaches very carefully. He gets down on one knee and inspects the bottom of the elephant's foot only to find a large thorn deeply embedded.

As carefully and as gently as he can he removes the thorn and the elephant gingerly puts its foot down. The elephant turns to face the good intentioned druid and with a rather stern look on its face, stares at him. For a good ten minutes Nye stands frozen - thinking of nothing else but being trampled. His druidic empathy is working overtime to calm the great beast in it's pain. Eventually the elephant turns and walks away.

For years after, Nye often remembers and ponders the events of that day. Years later he is walking through the Forest of Fog with his son. As they approach the area where the elephants hang out, he spots one of the majestic beasts who turns and walks over to where they are standing. It stares at him and Nye can't help but wonder if this is the same elephant.

Nye holds out his hand non-threateningly and makes his way towards the great and noble beast. He walks right up to the elephant and stares back in wonder. Suddenly the elephant wraps its trunk around one of his legs and swings him wildly back and forth between the trees, instantly killing him.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

[darkstorme]

// With apologies to Stephen and Jess

Pyyran was sitting in the Scamp, enjoying a quick drink, when a young mage of his acquaintance burst in. "Pyyran, Pyyran!" he cried.

Pyyran leaped to his feet. "What is it, lad?"

The magic-user gasped for breath. "I... I was wandering about invisibly, and I came across some dark elves in a camp just outside of town!" Pyyran tensed visibly, and started to check his equipment, when the mage continued, ".. and they said they were going to ambush Rhynn!"

Pyyran paused, retied the peace bond on his rapier, and sat back down to finish his drink. The mage was aghast. "Aren't you going to go out and stop the ambush?"

Pyyran shrugged. "What do I care what happens to a bunch of dark elves?"

[LynnJuniper]

*grin*

[Stephen_Zuckerman]

//I laughed and laughed. Still laughing.

Pyyran and Shiff were wandering through the woods one day, when suddenly, out of nowhere, swoops down a large emerald drake.

Shiff took up his sword, knowing that the painful trip through the Bindstones was nigh, and gaped at Pyyran as the elder adventurer was cramming on a pair of Boots of Swiftness the two had stumbled across earlier.

"Are you insane!" cried Shiff, "you can't outrun a dragon!"

The drake nearly upon them, Pyyran hurriedly finished tying up the boots.

"Outrun the dragon? I just have to outrun you!"

[Pseudonym]

A woman walks into the Scamp and sees a pretty good looking bloke sitting at the bar. She goes over and asks him what he is drinking. He says, "It is Magic Ale."

She thinks he's a bit of a nutter, so she walks around the pub. After realising that there is no one else worth talking to, she goes back to the man sitting at the bar. She says, "That isn't really Magic Ale, is it?" He says, "Yes! I'll show you ..."

So, he takes a gulp of the brew, jumps out the window, flies around the building three times, and comes back into the window. She can't believe it. She says to him, "I bet you can't do that again!"

So, he takes another drink of the ale, jumps out the window, flies around the building three times, and comes back in the window. She is amazed. She says that she wants a Magic Ale. So the bloke says to the bartender, "Give her a pint of what I'm having."

She gets her pint, takes a gulp, jumps out the window, plummets 4 stories, breaks every bone in her body and dies.

The bartender looks up at the bloke and says, "Plen, you're really not very nice when you're drunk."

[Pseudonym]

// An innocuous little trade and market hall joke ... then i'm done, promise! //

Shopkeeper Arkolio was alarmed when Raven Trading opened in the storefront to the left of him. A huge sign was installed, reading BEST DEALS.

Ark was troubled a second time when the Orc Bashers leased the building on his right, and erected a much larger sign, reading LOWEST PRICES.

At this point Ark was really depressed, however, he came up with an idea. He put the biggest sign of all over his own shop ... it read MAIN ENTRANCE.

[darkstorme]

// Apologies just to Stephen this time.

A half-orc, a human, and an elf were all out adventuring together, when they found themselves unexpectedly caught in a teleport trap and stranded on a desert island, surrounded by sharks. Left with no magic with which to return, they made camp as best they could, subsisting off rations and the berries which grew on the island.

For two weeks, they grew more and more despairing, when they noticed a jeweled bottle wash up onto the beach. Knowing that the GM would never just drop a named item into the game without a good reason ( ), they grabbed for it. As they did so, a column of smoke and wind blew out of the mouth of the bottle, and a Djinn appeared.

"By the Law of the Djinn," he intoned, "I must grant the Bearer of my Bottle Three W-..", he paused, eying the three adventurers clutching the bottle. "Hmm. I see. Very well, I will grant Each of the Bearers of my Bottle One Wish apiece."

This being said, he turned first to the human. "And what is your wish, sir?"

The human barely needed a moment to consider: "I wish to return to Port Hempstead and my friends."

The Djinn nodded. "Done." In a flash of light, the man was gone. Next, the Djinn turned to the elf. "What, then, is your wish?"

The elf, too, needed little time: "I wish to return to my home in Haven, and my wife." Nod. Flash. The half-orc was then alone on the beach.

The Djinn turned to the lone figure. "And you?" The hulking half-orc's face screwed up with indecision and puzzlement. The Djinn grew impatient: "Come on, you've no idea how long I've been trapped in there! Make your wish, that I might see my own family and friends again."

This seemed to strike a chord, for the half-orc's face turned morose. "Friends," he murmured, "Lonely." Then his face brightened with a smile. "Grok wish he had friends back!"

*flash-flash*