I have wonderful news for you regarding Google's data collection practices
The worst thing I ever did at a D&D table was when our DM ran out of place name ideas and told us the name of the port town we needed to go to was "Bar Harbor".
So I tricked him into roleplaying the slightly-too-helpful town guard into giving us directions to- Well you see, the party has been out in the wilderness for like a MONTH, we're all a mess, the dwarf's beard is out of control, so can you tell us- Where can we find the Bar Harbor Barber?
But we were not done. We each took turns, like a pack of velociraptors.
We also had Dryad in the party and a few of her branches got broken in a fight and now her whole canopy is unbalanced and it looks awful, but she really needs to see a specialist, is there a Bar Harbor Arbor Barber?
The Paladin also wanted to look in on a small church he'd heard of, that the city had a patron saint, who was boiled alive in a cauldron of ale, so where is the temple of the Bar Harbor Larger Martyr?
It was around this point that Chris started to tire of this nonsense.
The bard, naturally, wanted to go carousing, and he'd heard this town had some of the most attentive and welcoming Ladies of the Night on the continent, known by thier brightly colored stocking bands, so had he seen any of the Bar harbor Ardor Parlor Farber Garters?
Chris immediately escalated to threats of a Total Party Kill.
Unfortunately, I'd had time to prepare and-
"What do you want?"
"I just wanted to know if you'd seen my cousin."
"...Your cousin?"
"Yeah, I know it's a long shot, but he's got a pretty distinctive appearence and you might have seen him around town."
"Oh No-"
"Okay so he's Welsh and the whole family used to be in the wagon-making business but he got into clothes manufacture until there was an accident with a lamp black dye and now he's permanently stained a sooty color and that really turns heads, so now he's got a job drawing in crowds for the city funded swap meet- no, not the Drow that also works there, I mean like the inside of a fireplace- anyway, he got tired of people mixing the two of them up so he started wearing this fancy armor with a magical +1 charisma bonus-"
"Gallus I swear to God I *WILL* Summon the Tarraqsue-"
"-So have you seen my cousin, Arthur Carter, former Sartor but now he's the Darker Harker for the Charter Barter of Bar Harbor, the one with the Charmer Armor?"
Amazingly, we survived the Tarrasque.
when you view the mountains and the hills, do you judge them for being too flat, too curvy, on the size and shape of their peaks, on the flatness of the valleys between them.
When you look at trees, do you care how dense or far apart they are from one another, and do you mind their uneven growth and unaesthetic placement.
When you see thin roads and blank patches of land on those distant mountains, and when you see piles of boulders and different colors of grass. do you love the mountains less and avert your gaze in favor of a more perfect scene. or do your eyes wander over each line, pausing at each change of color. And do you not wonder if these were changes wrought by a larger wilder force such as time, or if it is the tall, smooth, perfect curves that are new, and the blemishes are remnants of a time long forgotten.
And do you not wish you could have seen those beautiful mountains grow and crumble, and know what rivers and floods, earthquakes and fires, rain and snow and sun; played a part in creating such a lovely sight. and don’t you hope, that your awe at their radiance could somehow leave one more mark on the soul of those mountains, that you could be apart of this collaborative work of art. That all others could taste your wonder, and feel your love.
this randomly blew up on twitter so i figured i’d post it here bc lord knows everyone on this app is neurodivergent
Remember: the more difficult you make it for them to realize a report is false, the more useless you make the portal.