THE VORPAL SWORD
(Now available in shops that don't ask questions!)
SLICE FIRST, ASK QUESTIONS NEVER!
Tired of monsters talking back? Fed up with dragons monologuing like they're in amateur theatre? Sick to death of heads not rolling dramatically into the sunset?
INTODUCING... THE VORPAL SWORD!
The only blade with more snark per swing than your rogue on a sugar high.
FEATURES:
*Instant Decapitation!
(*Terms and conditions apply. Target must fail a saving throw, be surprised, or be daft enough to stand still.)Elegant Swishing Noise
Now with 42% more “snicker-snack!” per swing!
(*Also available in “zing,” “whoosh,” and “Timothy.” Don’t ask.)Self-Sharpening via Pure Malice
Never needs honing! It sharpens itself on the bones of your enemies. Also does a bit of whittling on weekends.Detachable Ego
Comes with built-in smugness. Sword may start judging your fashion choices and alignment.
TESTIMONIALS:
“I tried swinging it at a beholder. Next thing I knew, I was singlehandedly running the Underdark. And still had time for tea.”
—Sir Gordon of Slicedale
“I lost my head... then so did he! Marvelous fun.”
—Lord Reginald Headless (Retired)
AVAILABLE EXCLUSIVELY AT:
Ye Olde Murder Emporium
Just off the High Street, next to the bakery that’s secretly a thieves’ guild.
LIMITED TIME BONUS!
Order now and get a free Scabbard of Mild Concern —
it whimpers slightly whenever combat is near!
Also makes an excellent cheese board.
WARNING LABEL (YOU KNEW THIS WAS COMING):
Not responsible for unintentional limb removal.
May activate during dramatic pauses.
Not suitable for children, pacifists, or bards who get emotional.
Do not taunt the Vorpal Sword. It remembers.
THE VORPAL SWORD
It goes snicker-snack. You go “Whoops, was that your neck?”
Buy one today, and cut to the chase. Literally.
ADVENTURE OF THE WEEKEND: BOG STANDARD MADNESS
“You never expected your adventuring career to end in a soggy hole full of screaming amphibians and boot-sucking sludge, and yet, here we are.”
YOU’RE IN IT NOW, MATE
You and your motley band of glory-hungry dungeon-crawlers have received a map. Well, “map” is generous. It’s a napkin with a stain that vaguely resembles a swamp and the words:
“BEHEMOTH HERE. SMELLS AWFUL. BRING SOAP.”
Naturally, you followed it.
Now, knee-deep in something that might be mud and might be yesterday’s stew, you trudge into The Muckfen Mire, home to:
THE BELLOWING BOG BEHEMOTH
Swamp guardian. Loud. Sludgy. Grumpy.
THE DUNGEON: Muckfen Mire
Environment: Foul swamp. Rancid pools. Passive-aggressive croaking.
Lighting: Dim and full of glowing mushrooms that are 70% toxic and 100% smug.
Hazards:
Leeches: DC 13 Con save or lose 1 HP every 10 minutes. No, you can’t keep them as pets.
Sticky Mud Traps: DC 14 Dex save or you're restrained and must spend an action extricating yourself with help or a very stern word.
Squelching Soundtrack: Every step you take sounds like a kiss between two wet boots.
ROOMS AND ENCOUNTERS
1. THE SHRINE OF THE BOG QUEEN
A tilted stone altar to some long-forgotten swamp goddess. Covered in moss and regret.
Enemies: 4 x Swamp Cultists (AC 11, HP 22 each, Dagger +3 to hit, 1d4+1 damage).
They chant, “The muck cleanses all!” which is optimistic at best.
Trap: One statue leaks paralytic goo. DC 14 Con save or lose a turn gagging.
Loot:
A jade frog idol (worth 75 gp if you clean the slime off).
1 Potion of Water Breathing (half-full, tastes like pond).
35 gp in coins from five different nations, none legal tender
2. THE SINKING LIBRARY
Bookshelves. In a bog. Great idea. Most tomes are unreadable, but one is dry (and smug about it).
Hazard: If you take longer than 1 minute searching, DC 13 Dex save or the floor gives out and you go full wet sponge mode.
Find:
Scroll of Swamp Stride (Homebrew: Ignore difficult terrain in swamp, smell like basil for 1d6 hours).
Diary of the Bellowing Behemoth’s previous keeper. Most entries just say: “STILL SMELLS.”
3. THE FROG PIT
A pit full of giant frogs. Obviously.
Enemies: 3 x Giant Frogs (AC 11, HP 18 each, Bite +3 to hit, 1d6+1 damage, DC 11 Strength or grappled).
If you fall in, they act like it's dinner theatre.
Treasure in the Muck:
1 rusted longsword (+0 to hit but very dramatic).
60 sp.
Half a locket containing a picture of someone who looks disappointed in you.
FINAL ROOM: THE BOGGY THRONE
A massive dome of roots, slime, and questionable air quality. In the centre, sitting in a puddle with throne-like confidence, is…
THE BELLOWING BOG BEHEMOTH
CR 4 Boss Monster
AC: 14 (Muddy Hide)
HP: 75 (Swampy Strength)
Speed: 30 ft, swamp-waddling pridefully
STR 18, DEX 10, CON 16, INT 4, WIS 8, CHA 6
Saves: Con +5
Condition Immunities: Frightened (he's already terrifying)
Attacks:
Club Smash (Boggy Bash!)
+6 to hit, 2d10 + 4 bludgeoning. Turns armour into damp origami.Mud Toss (Slimey Sight-loss!)
+6 to hit, 2d4 + 4 bludgeoning. Target must make a DC 13 Con save or be blinded until end of next turn.
Special Abilities:
Boggy Stench:
Any creature that starts its turn within 10 ft must succeed on a DC 13 Con save or be poisoned for one round. The smell is described in the Monster Manual as “violently aromatic.”Submerge:
Once per round, the Behemoth may sink into the bog and reappear anywhere within 30 feet. May emerge dramatically through someone’s bedroll.Bellow (Recharge 5–6):
The Behemoth lets out a roar so loud and wet that all creatures within 20 feet must make a DC 13 Wis save or be frightened for 1 round.
TREASURE TALLY:
Hidden beneath the Bog Throne, in a suspiciously clean iron chest sealed with frog wax:
500 gp in waterlogged coinage
Potion of Giant Strength (Hill)
+1 Club of Smacking (can be used to deal thunder damage instead of bludgeoning once per long rest; makes a cartoon bonk noise)
Moss-Covered Cloak of Concealment (Advantage on Stealth checks in natural environments, disadvantage in civilised company)
Amphibian Amulet (Grants the wearer the ability to speak with frogs and toads; may lead to disappointing conversations)
One extremely detailed portrait of the Behemoth, signed “To Greg. Never forget the slime.”
EXIT STRATEGY
After defeating the Behemoth, the swamp starts to drain slightly, revealing a once-buried path back to dry land and better smells.
Unless of course, someone decides to wear the Behemoth’s crown and declare themselves the new Baron of Bogulence.
That’ll go well.
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THE ALL-NEW BOX OF NOTHING!
(A proud product of Pointless Arcana Inc.)
WHAT’S IN THE BOX?!
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.
No gold. No danger. No eldritch horror whispering your sins at 3am.
And that's the genius.
ATTENTION ADVENTURERS, DUNGEON DELVERS & DICE-ROLLING GLORY SEEKERS:
Are you tired of every chest being a mimic?
Every urn cursed?
Every item secretly haunted by Gary, the ghost who only hums sea shanties?
INTRODUCING THE ALL-NEW…
BOX OF NOTHING™
It’s a box. It’s empty. That’s it.
No tricks. No riddles. No loot.
Just the sweet, unrelenting silence of the void.
INCLUDED FEATURES:
Crafted from 100% real wood-like materials (probably oak-adjacent)
Perfectly hollow – not even a whisper of magical energy
Smooth lid action that says, “We spent the budget on marketing”
USES INCLUDE:
Ruining the rogue’s day
Making the wizard suspicious
Giving the bard an existential crisis
Filling space in the dungeon and in your soul
TESTIMONIALS:
“I cast Detect Magic. It said, ‘lol no.’ Brilliant.”
—Glimmertwig, Level 7 Sorcerer
“I cried into it. Nothing echoed back. Perfect.”
—Thud, Barbarian with Feelings
BUT WAIT! THERE’S LESS!
Order now and receive a second Box of Nothing™
for the same price as the first one:
1 gold piece or 3 buttons and a sincere shrug.
BONUS: Each order comes with a complimentary Scroll of Shrugging.
Cast it once per day to make any problem someone else’s.
THE BOX OF NOTHING™
Now available at Ye Olde Pointless Shoppe, right between the Boots of Left-Footedness and the Wand of Aggressive Apologising.
Because sometimes, the real treasure is the lack of disappointment.
Fighter Takes the Crown: A Definitive Ranking of DnD’s Classes
So You Want to Be a Hero? Here's Our Completely Unbiased, Totally Scientific Ranking of the 5.5 DnD Classes (That Will Definitely Start an Internet War)
Whether you’re a baby-faced newbie lovingly naming your first character “Throg the Stabby” or a grizzled vet who min-maxes harder than a caffeine-fuelled accountant, one question looms large like a gelatinous cube in a corridor: Which DnD class is actually the best?
Now that the 2024/25 DnD 5e rules have landed like a badly-cast Fireball, the answer’s even more confusing than ever. So naturally, we’ve taken it upon ourselves, out of sheer arrogance and poor time management, to rank them all.
Will you agree with this list? Probably not. Will that stop us? Not a chance.
12. Barbarian
Big, shouty, and allergic to shirts, the Barbarian is DnD’s answer to a broken door: loud and occasionally useful.
Why It’s Down Here: Yes, you can now Rage in non-combat situations, handy for barbecues and tax audits, but outside of combat, Barbarians are about as subtle as a warhammer to the face. They’re great at smashing things, less great at anything requiring brain cells. Play one if you like yelling at tables and punching ghosts.
11. Rogue
The Rogue: master of stealth, cunning, and reminding everyone they “technically” weren’t spotted.
Why It’s Down Here: Sneak Attack is still cool, sure, but let’s face it, most of the time you’re just skulking around while the rest of the party is actually doing things. Great in heist campaigns. Less great in boss fights when everyone else is nuking the battlefield and you’re hiding behind a shrub with a crossbow.
10. Ranger
Nature’s answer to “What if a Fighter had commitment issues and liked squirrels?”
Why It’s Down Here: The Ranger still smells faintly of disappointment and patch notes. Yes, you’ve got a pet and some tracking abilities, but if you’re not in a forest, everyone wonders why you’re even here. Also, “Hunter’s Mark” is basically your whole personality now.
9. Warlock
Pact magic, eldritch invocations, and enough edge to cut glass.
Why It’s Down Here: Warlocks are the goth kids of the magic world, cool to look at, but once you get past Eldritch Blast, it’s just you and your sugar daddy Patron deciding what you’re allowed to cast. Fun for flavour, but mechanically a bit like eating only crisps for dinner.
8. Bard
Musical, magical, and marginally employed.
Why It’s Here: Bards are amazing in theory. In practice, half of them are just thinly veiled excuses to flirt with NPCs and roll too many Persuasion checks. Still, Jack-of-all-Trades is handy, and you can literally inspire people by shouting haikus at them mid-battle. That’s something.
7. Sorcerer
Innate spellcasters powered by destiny, bloodlines, or sheer narrative convenience.
Why It’s Here: Metamagic is great. So is not studying. But Sorcerers still have fewer spells than your nan’s iPad, and if you don’t know what you’re doing, you’ll run out of options faster than a Bard at a monastery.
6. Paladin
Smite-first, ask-questions-later.
Why It’s Here: Still a great blend of martial might and divine flair, but 5.5e nerfed Divine Smite harder than a cleric at a rave. Still, if you like shouting about justice while glowing dramatically, this is your lane.
5. Monk
Punches ghosts. Climbs walls. Wears pyjamas.
Why It’s Here: The Monk has improved a bit thanks to Martial Arts die changes and better Grapple rules. But it’s still the class where you feel cool until someone casts Fireball and you realise your hit points are mostly optimism.
4. Druid
Nature’s favourite spellcasting vegan.
Why It’s Here: Wild Shape isn’t quite as wild anymore, but casting Moonbeam while disguised as a badger is still peak chaos. If you like pretending to be a spider while judging your teammates, this is the class for you.
3. Cleric
Healing, holy fire, and hitting things with heavy religious conviction.
Why It’s Here: The Cleric is still the divine multitool of DnD. Need healing? Done. Want someone obliterated by sacred light? Sorted. Want to wear plate armour and lecture demons? Go right ahead. Praise be to buffs.
2. Wizard
Magical pensioners with a death wish.
Why It’s Here: Wizards know everything. Literally. They’ve got spells for spells, counterspells for counterspells, and if they don’t blow up the battlefield, it’s because they’ve accidentally teleported to another one. Downsides? Squishier than a wet sponge and more preparation than a wedding. Still, pure magical chaos.
1. Fighter
Wait, what? Fighter?! Yes. Fighter.
Why It’s #1: You know what’s never out of spell slots? A longsword to the face. The 2024 Fighter might not be flashy, but that’s because they don’t need to be. They’ve got Action Surge. They’ve got Second Wind. They’ve got Weapon Mastery, subclass options, and enough attacks per round to make a blender feel inadequate. And best of all? You don’t need a degree in astrophysics to play one.
They’re the Swiss Army knife of pain, reliable, adaptable, and always ready to ruin a monster’s day. So yes, the Fighter takes the crown. No magic, no divine pacts. Just skill, steel, and stubborn refusal to die.
Disagree? Excellent. That means it’s working.
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A Dunce's Look at Armour Points (Hit Points for Armour)
Well, well, well. It looks like we’ve found yet another way to mess with your perfectly planned Dungeons & Dragons character builds, dear adventurer. Just when you thought you could dodge the dreaded "Did you bring any healing potions?" question, along comes Armour Points, the idea that your sturdy suit of plate mail or leather armour could actually have its own pool of hit points. Brilliant! Or, more likely, a fantastic new way for your Dungeon Master to ruin your life.
Let’s break this down, shall we? Armour Points (or AP, because we love acronyms, don’t we?) are the brainchild of some noble, well-meaning folks who thought, “You know what’s fun? Let’s make armour feel like it’s alive!” You see, in this new mind-boggling system, armour has a set amount of HP that’s separate from your regular old Hit Points (HP), which are still the gold standard for “I’ve been stabbed in the face and can’t walk without looking like a puddle of goo” measurement. But now, armour gets to be a hero in its own right, absorbing damage before it falls to pieces like your hopes and dreams when you fail your next saving throw.
How Does It Work, Then?
In theory, Armour Points are a nifty way of making your armour more than just a decorative metal shell. Here’s how it goes: When you take damage, instead of it all automatically going to your HP, the first chunk of damage is absorbed by your armour’s own HP. If you’ve got 10 AP, for example, and you take 15 points of damage, then 10 of those points hit your trusty steel mail, leaving you with 5 points of damage to your own fragile little self. Not bad, right? It’s like your armour is now your personal bodyguard that works for free, except it gets a bit grotty every time it takes a hit.
But wait, there’s more! When your armour’s AP hits zero (which it will, because of course it will), it’s shattered, broken, or ruined, depending on your DM’s mood. That’s right, your trusty shield and breastplate are suddenly just piles of scrap metal. Oh, but don’t worry, there’s always a blacksmith around the corner, ready to charge you an arm and a leg (perhaps literally) to fix it, unless you’re off in the middle of a dungeon, in which case, your armour’s still ruined. Tough luck, mate!
What’s the Appeal?
Here’s the thing: Armour Points are supposed to make armour feel like it actually does something, as opposed to just being a few extra numbers on your character sheet. Who wants to be the guy in the back row constantly shouting, “I’m wearing plate mail, don’t worry, I’ve got this,” only to be one-shotted by a dragon’s breath weapon anyway? Armour Points are a way of making that steel-on-your-body feel meaningful without resorting to the old, “Well, I’ve got 1,000 AC because I’ve been hoarding magical trinkets for the last 20 sessions” nonsense.
Plus, it gives your party a reason to consider repairing armour, for once. Instead of the usual “Let’s loot the bodies and move on” attitude, now you might actually care about fixing your gear. Maybe you’ll even get a bit of roleplay out of it! Imagine: "Oi, mate, I’ll trade you three healing potions and a bag of rat tails for a quick patch-up, yeah?" Sounds like an adventure in itself.
The Problems?
Oh, you knew there were problems coming. Let’s be real here: the moment we introduce Armour Points, we open the floodgates to a whole new way for your poor DM to ruin your day. Imagine your character is standing in front of an ancient dragon. You’ve got your +2 Plate Mail and a lovely +1 Shield (because you’re a really serious adventurer), and you’re feeling pretty smug. “I’ll just let my armour take the damage,” you think. “How bad could it be?” But then your DM, that fiend, throws in a mechanic where your armour has been compromised because the dragon’s acid breath slowly eats through the material like a toddler at a birthday party. Suddenly, your shiny armour isn’t so shiny, and you’re standing there, naked as a rat in the rain, hoping your AC can hold up a little longer.
And what about poor ol’ Bob, the Rogue, who’s only got a leather vest and some tight trousers? Doesn’t seem fair that his armour’s so fragile it couldn’t even withstand a gentle breeze, while Gary the Fighter has the whole Avengers ensemble, right?
Final Verdict:
So, are Armour Points a game-changer or just another headache added to the DM’s list of things to do? It’s really up to your group. Some might see it as an exciting new way to rethink how damage works, making every swing of the sword feel more important. Others, of course, will scream at their dice and swear never to use AP again. But hey, that’s Dungeons & Dragons, right? Everything’s an experiment, and if you’re not rolling with some oddball house rules, you’re just not doing it right.
If you’re not into it, no worries, keep on rolling the dice and ignore the fact that armour has an HP stat. Just pray your DM doesn’t go full “Armour Points” on you next time you get stabbed in the back.
And don't get us started on Shield Points!
__________________________________________________________________________________
Introducing... Bug-B-Gone™: The Only Bug Spray for Metal-Eating Menaces!
Are your magical artefacts and shiny armour getting chewed to bits by a ravenous swarm of hungry, metal-munching pests? Did your sword suddenly develop a mysterious “bite” after you left it out in the rain? Is your treasure hoard mysteriously shrinking faster than your patience with your rogue’s antics?
Say no more, adventurer! It’s time to spray away your worries with Bug-B-Gone™, the only bug repellent designed to protect your precious metals from those annoying, nibbling little critters that think your enchanted gear is their personal buffet!
Why Choose Bug-B-Gone™?
Works on All Metals: Whether it’s magical alloys, cursed armour, or even the treasure you "borrowed" from that dragon’s hoard, Bug-B-Gone™ keeps your metal safe from all sorts of hungry insects.
Perfect for Dungeon Crawls: Tired of finding your +1 Sword in pieces after a run-in with some pesky “Iron Beetles”? Just spray a little Bug-B-Gone™ on it before you head into the caves, and you’ll keep your gear safe from those creepy crawlers with an appetite for disaster.
One Spray Lasts for Weeks: Forget reapplying every time you go near a rust monster (we all know how that ends). Bug-B-Gone™ offers long-lasting protection against all types of metal-eating bugs. Just one coat, and you’re good to go.
How Does It Work?
Bug-B-Gone™ uses an ancient alchemical formula (discovered by accident after some poor wizard’s broomstick got munched by a group of particularly hungry centipedes) that stops bugs dead in their tracks before they even think about nibbling on your +3 plate mail. Simply spray it generously over any metal objects, and voilà! The bugs will lose interest quicker than you can say, “I swear, I didn’t steal the king’s crown!”
But Wait, There’s More!
Order now and you’ll receive a mini-sized Bug-B-Gone™ for those tiny, pesky beetles that like to crawl into your treasure chest. Perfect for when you’re out in the field and don’t want to waste a drop of your full-sized bottle on a few measly mites!
So, what are you waiting for? Say goodbye to chewed-up armour, rusted weapons, and ruined loot! Protect your valuables with Bug-B-Gone™, because your stuff deserves better than becoming someone’s snack.
Order now, and we'll throw in a free "Rust Remover" Potion, guaranteed to fix any damage already done by those pesky critters. Just don’t blame us if it turns your favourite sword into a +2 rust-coloured relic!
Bug-B-Gone™ — The only thing eating your metal now will be the monsters in the dungeon!
__________________________________________________________________________________
And that’s a wrap on the first thrilling, mind-boggling, and occasionally rage-inducing issue of Dungeon Dunce Weekly!
We hope you’ve enjoyed our utterly unbiased (and definitely not inflammatory) takes on the world of Dungeons & Dragons, where nerds become heroes and heroes get awkwardly attacked by goblins. Remember, whether you’re a level 20 wizard or a humble kobold, it’s all about the journey, even if that journey involves a lot of shouting at your dice for being “rigged”.
Speaking of journeys, don’t forget to check out each week’s Adventure of the Weekend, where we guide you through an all-new dungeon crawl packed with traps, treasures, and, of course, some rather questionable NPCs. It’s a perfect way to test your new class picks and prove that your Fighter is, in fact, the ultimate hero (or at least the most well-armoured).
So, keep your character sheets crisp, your dice slightly (or completely) covered in Cheeto dust, and never forget: the best part of D&D is arguing over whether it’s worth taking a level in Bard just to sing your way out of every problem.
Until next week, where we’ll dive into the controversial topic of “Is Your Rogue Actually Useful, or Just A Sneaky Pain?” stay dungeoning, you magnificent dice-rolling dorks!
P.S. If you didn’t agree with our rankings… tough luck. Your complaints go straight into the Goblin Pit.
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