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hottdoggblogg · 14 days

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#hotdog #hot dog #weiners #yes I did

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sonandheirofnothinginparticular · 11 months

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#weiners

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yeahiwasintheshit · 1 year

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#gay #weiners #hot dog

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barovianchickenandwaffles · 10 months

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The Lost Manuscript: another Barovian Tale

(Dedicated to @darklordazalin )

So, there I was one night hauling trash to the heap out back behind BCnW, when a looming shadow rose from behind it. Now, as any Barovian knows, looming shadows arising from behind are bad.

But instead of some nameless horror, it was a young man in a black, uniform, stained with much blood. His own.

He collapsed in a heap, on the heap, and reached out to me. “Please,” he said weakly.

“Sorry, pal, no refunds.”

“No, my name is Domran, and I am a junior officer with the Kargat.”

Aww, crap, it was the fuzz. What did I do this time? I paid Rahadin’s last kickback on time.

Wait, the Kargat serve Lord Azalin, or as we Barovians are commanded to call him, “Stupid Face Jerk Nerd”.

“What does Stupid Face—, er, Lord Azalin want here?”

Domran the Kargat agent explained, “We Kargat agents were dispatched to Barovia to retrieve a copy of a manuscript called The Lord of the Necropolis.”

“That’s everywhere. Where do you think I get such a steady supply of toilet p-, er, reading material at BCnW?”

“No!” gasped Domran, “this one is different. It is said that this is a lost manuscript with an alternate ending, one that contains some hidden secret. Lord Azalin dispatched us to find it.”

I nodded, “cool story, bruh, but nothing like that here.”

“Please,” he said with his last breath, “help me complete my mission. Lord Azalin would no doubt be grateful.”

Well, I had always wanted to expand into Darkon. My ventures in Sithicus and Falkovnia were both spectacular failures. But this time, I could not fail.

“You got it, Donnie.”

“Domr—“ he gasped as he died.

After disposing the body in the heap, I returned to the shop.

“Gary, you’re in charge for a while.”

Gary, the High-master Illithid / barista waved his facial tentacles for a moment. “Looking for that lost manuscript, boss?” came a smooth, unnerving voice in my head.

Great. That’s what happens when you hire a powerful psychic monster as your hardworking, but traitorous employee.

“I pulled from his mind clues to help in your search,” he continued in my head, “it seems there is a ruined monastery hidden on the cliff side beneath Krezk. It is perilous to retrieve it.”

“The only thing in peril is your salary,” I said audibly, “if you don’t mind the shop while I am gone.”

Gary’s was silent. I then threw him a bone. “The body’s out back. It’s still warm. Go nuts.”

Gary’s tentacles wriggled. “I prefer fresher quarry, but it’s been a long shift and I am famished.”

As I assembled some supplies in the pantry, Viktor the Pantry Ghost / ex-intern appeared from the shadows.

Moaning, he said, “going on a quest again? It sure would be a shame if you died, and I wouldn’t be bound to this pantry any more.”

I rolled my eyes, shoving the last of the supplies in my rucksack. “Don’t celebrate my death yet, Viktor.”

And thus I set out from Barovia village to Krezk. It was a miserable journey even by Barovian standards. I made the mistake of picking up an adventuring party on my mule-drawn cart. The elderly wizard of the group, whom everyone obviously disliked but had to tolerate, wouldn’t stop droning on and on and on about his old adventures decades past. Then, he would launch into another tirade about how wizards nowadays sucked and didn’t respect magic anymore. Finally he’d complain about his knees for the 100th time. It was so bad, the usual spooks that infest the woods avoided us.

When he stopped to use the restroom in the woods, in true Barovian fashion, we took off without him. The party thanked me later.

“If he ever tracks you down, just blame it on werewolves. Works every time,” I left them some parting advice. They left me a few silver to compensate. Not bad.

Krezk, Krezk, Krezk. What can I say about it? It’s a crappy town, but then everything’s crappy in Barovia, just in different ways. The Devil Strahd holds less sway here, but the Krezk nightlife is kind of … meh. These people don’t get out much, and don’t welcome outsiders. I had to bring a shipment of syrup for trade to get in the door. This will set me back a bit.

And once I got past the village gate, that was when I ran into my rival, Vlad, owner of Barovian Weiners and Pancakes.

“Hello, Vlad” I said icily as we passed one another.

With a smirk he said, “oh hello, Oleksii. You’re looking well. Profits good?”

Of course he already knew the answer so I ignored the slight. “How’s the new barista working out?”

Word gets around, Vlad had copied my idea, and hired a barista hailing from a distant plane.

“Oh, John the Thri-Kreen? He’s great! Doesn’t say much, but with so many arms he’s twice as fast as Gary.”

“Twice as hungry too,” I thought to myself. Vlad won’t last long with that monstrosity under his employ. I wouldnt shed any tears though.

Getting to Krezk is one thing, finding the Lost Manuscript is another.

Or not.

Turns out BWnP already found it. On Vlad’s tacky storefront was a signboard: “See the lost manuscript of Lord Azalin, and its alternate ending! For a limited time with a purchase of a Vlady Big Weiner Meal!”

I swallowed my pride and went in. I purchased a meal using copper slugs, and there it was in a glass case, enshrined in a gaudy altar, surrounded by candles: Lord of the Necropolis, alternate ending!

As I filed into the queue to get a closer look, I wracked my brains for how to open the altar without being caught, smuggled the manuscript out of town, and avoid the authorities.

Then I remembered the classic Barovian gambit: the Smash N Grab.

With my trusty crowbar in my pack (never leave home without one), I yelled, “hey is that Strahd over there, wearing beach sandals?” pointing in some random direction.

As soon as everyone’s eyes were turned, I drew out the crowbar, smashed the glass, and snatched the manuscript from the altar.

What happened next was a good ol Barovian Cart Chase. Using some tricks I learned from a pair of Dukes reputedly from the domain of Hazárd, I eluded the Krezk constabulary, busted out of the town and managed to lose them halfway to Vallaki. Last I saw Vlad, he was shaking his fist at me, just as his Thri-Kreen employee appeared right behind him with a hungry look on its face.

Back in Barovia village, I finally could rest easy. I parked back behind BCnW and prepared for Vlad’s inevitable counterattack. Content with my defenses, I finally cracked open the book and flipped toward the end. Gary slinked behind me and read over my shoulder.

Turns out, someone had simply crossed out the last chapter or so from a regular copy, and instead added the following:

“When Azalin came to, he was lying on a bed of flowers, seared by the powerful magic he had contended with. He looked at his hands in horror, realizing that he had been thrust back into his original lich form.

“With a cry of anguish, he cursed his tormentors one more. Then he froze. This was no ordinary garden. He knew it well. It was the garden in Castle Ravenloft. What had his tormentors planned this time?

“Then he knew he wasn’t alone. Behind him, the presence of Strahd Von Zarovich oozed from below the floor like black ink. ‘So, we meet again,’ said the silky baritone voice.

“‘Once again, our tormentors have seen fit to throw us into the ring once more,’ Azalin replied in irritation, his mind racing to line up the spells he’d need to fend off Strahd.

“But Strahd didn’t attack. He held out his hand to help Azalin up. ‘I know that pain well.’

“Azalin stared into Strahd’s feral, red eyes for a long time. ‘This is what it sounds like when doves cry.’

“The two Darklords embraced for a moment, and Strahd said, ‘I know a good bratwurst and pancake place in Krezk, let’s go.’

The End.”

Dammit, Vlad.

#ravenloft #dnd #ttrpg #barovia #tumblrloft #d&d #dungeons and dragons #waffles #life in barovia #azalin rex #darkon #Kargat #weiners #barovian tales #curse of strahd

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bigfuckingcrab · 23 days

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!WARNING! !WARNING!

MEAN WEENER HAS ESCAPED FROM A SUPERMAX PRISON BLACK SITE