If you (as yourself) were a D&D character, what class and race would you be and what would your biggest strength and flaw be? (Not what you would want to be but what you WOULD be). I’ve found that asking people this gives you a lot of insight into them so maybe you could use this too! :)

sirussly:

vagueenthusiast:

Oh boi this is a really interesting question! I think my race would be somethin tall and sort of dorky like a Firbolg, and my class would be wizard because they’re so academic and they tend to be shut-ins.

As for my biggest strength (I don’t actually know what these typically are in D&D rip I’ve only ever made two character sheets in my life), maybe it would be problem-solving? Like, the ability to think and build around any issue? And my biggest flaw would probably be closing myself off.

This is a really cool question, so I forward it to the rest of D20 Error– @knotthebrave @sirussly @asklilyluna @voxmaachina @curly-haired-wizard. What classes, races, strengths, and flaws best suit your personalities?

(( OOC: NOICE QUESTION!

I mean I probably can’t get away with choosing anything other than the wizard class as I am v soft and squidgy and probably at around 8 hit points irl. Also a complete recluse and utterly useless with any form of weaponry/item that requires physical skill.

Jules has stated my race is halfling because I am a real-life hobbit and I can’t really argue with that.

Biggest strength: professional bullshitter. Biggest weakness: emotional constipation. Nuff said. ))

D&D Hardmode

brunhiddensmusings:

aztechnology:

out-there-on-the-maroon:

Nobody in the party is allowed to have a backstory with dead parents.

Too easy, meet me in my gauntlet. D&D Nightmare mode: Nobody in the party is allowed to have a sad backstory.

your party all has to schedule time to visit their live parents roughly once a month even if that conflicts with their normal quest flow. bringing souvenirs for your younger siblings is encouraged

maraudersandlily20:

hippity-hoppity-brigade:

ginathethundergoddess:

darlinghogwarts:

My favorite thing ever is how Ron just sent Charlie a random letter like “hey yo there’s an illegal dragon at hogwarts, could you come and smuggle it out of here, please?” and Charlie was just like “yeah sure, I’ll trespass into the castle and steal a dangerous magical creature, of course, lemme just hit up my friends”

It’s better if you imagine Charlie and co as a group of Grad Students trying to avoid their other responsibilities.

Charlie is drunkenly revising the third draft of his thesis on proper care and feeding of greenhorns when his family owl slams into the window. 

Three of his friends jump and look around. Glinda doesn’t raise her head from her folded arms; only groans, “Is that Baines coming to do me in?” 

Charlie totters to the window and fetches Errol from the window pane. “No such luck,” he says. “You’re still going to have to take the exam.” After some consideration, Charlie lays him on a clear patch of floor to recover. “Do owls take firewhiskey?” he asks the room at large. 

“It’s not fair,” Glinda wails into the tabletop. “I swear he didn’t say anything about Bridgewort’s handling practices when we did the review in class.” 

“Oh, Merlin,” says Ali, freezing over their notes like a Medusa wyvern had bitten them. “Oh, Merlin’s sweet saggy socks. Is he covering Bridgewort?” 

“That’s what he said when I went to his office hours.” Glinda sits up. “You know his lapdragon singed my new sweater?!” 

Charlie decides not to give Errol a nip of whiskey. Flying under the influence is really not done. He unties the letter from Errol’s leg. Ron’s childish spiky handwriting spells out Charlie’s name on the front. Inside is a hastily scrawled message. 

“Yes, we know it ruined your sweater,” snaps Ysabelle. “You told us twenty times. Why didn’t you tell us Baines told you we’re going to be tested on Bridgewort?” 

“I meant to,” says Glinda. “Sorry.” She flicks her pile of notes. “I was lost in the miasma of gloom and desperation.” 

Ali puts their head back and groans. “I’m gonna die. I’m gonna say ‘fuck it’ and just fucking walk into a dragon’s mouth so I don’t have to do this.” 

“Hey,” says Charlie. They don’t hear him. 

“How much is this worth again?” Glinda asks her bottle of butterbeer. 

“Twenty-five percent,” Ali and Ysabelle chorus. Ysabelle adds, “and the thesis is fifty percent of our total grade.” 

“Hey!” Charlie repeats. They look at him. He waves Ron’s letter. “My littlest brother at Hogwarts has an illegal dragon he needs to get off campus. Anybody up for a midnight flight?” 

Ali slams their hands down on the table and stands up. “Fuck yes,” they say decisively. “Maybe I’ll fly into the Whomping Willow and die a quick death.” 

This is the best thing I’ve ever read in my life. Fact.