DUNGEON DUNCE WEEKLY #11
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
with Reverend Dungeon Master
High Cleric of Chaos. Once ordained by accident during a critical fumble at a fantasy wedding.
Dear Reverend Dungeon Master,
My rogue refuses to sneak. He says “stealth is for cowards” and prefers to cartwheel into dungeons yelling his own name. Our party has been ambushed fourteen times, once by a mime. How do I get him to play properly?
– Kevin, Surrey
RDM:
Ah yes, the classic “rogue-in-name-only.” Somewhere between a gymnast and a windchime with knives. You’ve not got a rogue. You’ve got a bard without the paperwork. Try this: every enemy gains advantage against shouting targets in tights. Then introduce a sentient trap that only triggers on arrogance. Let’s see him cartwheel past that.
Dear Reverend Dungeon Master,
Our cleric insists on baptising everything with holy water, including kobolds, cursed artefacts, and once, my tea. He claims it’s “divine sanitation.” Should I allow it?
– Melanie, Kent
RDM:
Sounds like your cleric is two splashes short of a spell slot. Look, if he wants to turn your campaign into The Great British Bake-Off: Exorcism Edition, let him. But next time he blesses your cuppa, have the tea scream in Celestial and beg for its life. That’ll put the fear of God back where it belongs, in the breakfast beverages.
Dear Reverend Dungeon Master,
My paladin keeps challenging trees to duels. He says “evil hides in roots.” We’ve lost three horses and a cart to bark-related combat. The forest now fears him. Should I step in?
– Dave, Bristol
RDM:
You’ve discovered the rare Dendrophobic Avenger. Very dangerous. Mostly to landscaping. No need to stop him. Just start giving the trees revenge stats. Add a few Ents with a grudge and one ancient oak that files lawsuits. By next session, your paladin will be weeping in a lumberyard, apologising to a fence.
Write to Reverend Dungeon Master
C/O Dungeon Dunce Weewishingkly
Or scrawl it in blood on a scroll, roll a d20, and post it into a well.
From BoomCo Arcano-Tactical Solutions Ltd.
ARE YOU TIRED OF BEING A MAGICAL NERD IN A HELMET?
INTRODUCING: THE ARTIFICER – BATTLEFIELD OPERATIONS SPECIALIST™
(Because who needs subtlety when you've got clockwork napalm?)
Do you love tinkering, explosives, and pretending your crossbow has Bluetooth? Do you constantly shout “I have a plan!” right before detonating your own eyebrows?
THEN YOU, my dangerously unqualified friend, are ready to become a BATTLEFIELD OPERATIONS SPECIALIST, or B.O.S., because everything’s cooler with a vaguely militarised acronym!
WHAT DO YOU GET?
GRENADES. LOTS OF GRENADES.
Are they technically “infused magical charges”? Yes.
Are you lobbing them like you’re the MVP of the Kobold Olympics? Also yes.TURRETS THAT DON’T LISTEN TO YOU.
Deploy your trusty Arcano-Spitfire Mk III!
Now watch in horror as it locks onto your wizard for coughing too loud.THE “TACTICAL” TOOL BELT™
Now with 137 pockets you’ll forget to label, containing:Ball bearings
One (1) confused squirrel
A schematic written entirely in Infernal
Yesterday’s sandwich
FIELD TESTED BY THE BEST (SURVIVING) HEROES:
“I once stopped an entire goblin siege with just my wrench, a bottle of whisky, and raw panic.”
– Corporal Blammo Fizzwick, Demolitions Expert & Former Eyebrow Owner
“I built a walking cannon named ‘Snuggles’. He’s my best friend. He once exploded a bridge by accident. Twice.”
– Lt. Widget Boomwhistle, currently banned from five dimensions
FREQUENTLY EXPLODED QUESTIONS:
Q: Do I need to know magic?
A: Only enough to shout “It’s supposed to do that!”
Q: Are there risks?
A: Yes. Most of them. Especially fire-related ones.
Q: Will I become the party’s MVP?
A: Absolutely. Until the rogue realises you replaced their dagger with a heated coffee stirrer.
SIGN UP TODAY!
Become a Battlefield Operations Specialist and join the proud ranks of those who yell “I’ve got this!” seconds before obliterating a shrubbery.
BoomCo – Turning minor problems into catastrophic overreactions since 1124 A.W.
Terms and conditions apply. Not responsible for personal injury, spatial ruptures, or possessed machinery developing opinions. Always point your cannon away from your face.
Feature Story (that makes it "real")
“DRAGON DELVES” BLOWS THE LID OFF YOUR RULEBOOK AND MELTS IT WITH FIRE BREATH
Now with 87% more dragons and 42% more player confusion!
BREAKING: WIZARDS OF THE COAST RELEASES A BOOK THAT ACTUALLY HAS DRAGONS IN IT
Shocking. We know.
That’s right, you sad sack spell-slingers and kobold cuddlers, after years of “Dungeons & No Actual Dragons,” the brain wizards at Wizards of the Coast have finally stopped gaslighting us and released Dragon Delves, an anthology of 10 scaly, fire-snorting, village-roasting adventures for D&D 5.5-Next-Whatever Edition.
And yes, it's got dragons. Proper ones. With wings and breath weapons and egos the size of Faerûn.
WHAT’S IN THE BOOK?
Ten adventures! Ten dragons! And ten reasons for your DM to gleefully disintegrate your entire party in round one! Each tale is designed for Levels 1 to 12, assuming your characters survive long enough to level up instead of being flambéed by an emotionally unstable gold wyrm with abandonment issues.
Also includes bonus historical dragon trivia, because nothing screams fun like a pop quiz between fireballs.
HIGHLIGHTS FROM THE SCALE-INFESTED SMORGASBORD:
Chapter 1: Death at Sunset
Level 1. Your party investigates a suspicious forest blight. Surprise! It's dragons. Surprise again! You're Level 1. Good luck.
Chapter 2: Baker’s Doesn’t
Level 3. A halfling baker gets toasted by a gold dragon. Also features a gingerbread house owned by a male hag with a sweet tooth and zero boundaries.
Chapter 3: The Will of Orcus
Level 4. Cultists! Demons! A nosy silver dragon with Opinions™! Also: a celestial innkeeper who really needs to work on boundaries.
Chapter 4: For Whom the Void Calls
Level 5. A psychic Bag of Holding needs help. You read that right. Somewhere, a brass dragon is doing interpretive dance about it.
Chapter 5: The Dragon of Najkir
Level 7. A missing priest, a monastery, and yet another brass dragon. This one’s aquatic, judgmental, and probably smells like kelp.
Chapter 6: The Forbidden Vale
Level 9. Red dragon. Wildfires. Town called “Arborean Springs.” Environmental disaster meets high fantasy insurance claim.
Chapter 7: Before the Storm
Level 10. Pirates, storms, villagers in distress. Also, a black dragon who took “moody” as a lifestyle choice.
Chapter 8: Shivering Death
Level 11. There’s a giant corpse, an unnatural heat wave, and a white dragon who really just wants you to freeze and perish. Polite fellow.
Chapter 9: A Copper for a Song
Level 12. A musical copper dragon wants you to fetch ancient song lyrics. It’s “High School Musical” but with volcanic peril and more screaming.
Chapter 10: Dragons of the Sandstone City
Level 12 again. Mummies, rituals, and a blue dragon with the décor taste of a Vegas casino. Bring sunscreen and anti-curse cream.
CAN YOU PLAY SOLO?
Kind of! Sort of! Not really! Three adventures are made for “one player and a DM”, meaning it’s technically solo, but only if your DM is legally classified as a household pet. Comes with the Blessing of the Lone Champion, aka “Plot Armour Lite.” It lets you gain Heroic Inspiration when the DM inevitably decides to nuke your eyebrows off.
PRICE TAG:
Only $49.95 USD or your soul and a half-eaten Hot Pocket. Or pay more for the Print + Digital bundle and get early access, 22 battle maps, and some magical stickers that do absolutely nothing but look pretty on your laptop.
Also available: Beadle & Grimm’s DM Vault for those of you with too much disposable income and not enough friends.
ALTERNATE COVER?
Oh yes. It’s psychedelic. It’s swirly. It looks like a dragon licked a lava lamp. Illustrated by Justine Jones and priced exactly the same as the boring old standard version, because nothing says “capitalism” like having to choose between groovy or grim.
ART STYLE?
Every chapter has a different artist, because cohesion is for cowards. You’ll get everything from classy gothic inkwork to cartoon dragons drowning in jellybeans. It’s a visual buffet of chaos, and we love it.
FINAL SCORE: 18 OUT OF 20
That’s right! It’s funny! It’s weird! It’s got actual dragons in your Dungeons & Dragons for once!
Perfect for players who:
Like dragons
Hate consistency
Want to be eaten by something with scales and a tragic backstory
Avoid if you:
Need tight story arcs
Are allergic to joy
Still haven’t forgiven 4e
IN SUMMARY:
“Dragon Delves” is the perfect anthology for adventurers who want fire, frost, funk, and the faint hope of survival. Just don’t expect deep emotional arcs. Expect claws, chaos, and a confused Bag of Holding yelling at you in your sleep.
Pick it up on D&D Beyond, Amazon, or from that shady bloke behind the pub who says he’s a “licensed arcane distributor.”
DUNGEON DUNCE WEEKLY RATING: (Four-and-a-half spontaneous combustions out of five)
Now go forth, get scorched, and remember: never trust a dragon who offers biscuits.
ENCOUNTER OF THE WEEK “The Owlbear Ultimatum”
One Beast. Two Natures. Zero Patience for Your Party’s Shenanigans.
It began, as all poor decisions do, with a shortcut.
“Trust me,” said Thimble the rogue, whose last four plans had involved falling off things. “We cut through the glade, we’re back at the tavern by suppertime.”
“Why’s it called ‘Shriek Hollow’ then?” asked Mavis the wizard, clutching her spellbook like a very disappointed teacher.
“Probably owls. Maybe wind. Possibly banshees,” Thimble said, grinning like someone who’s never read a survival guide.
They made it ten paces in before the shrubbery grunted.
A tree sneezed.
And then something enormous exploded out of the undergrowth in a flurry of feathers, fur, and an expression that said, I haven’t slept in weeks and you look delicious.
“Oh no,” said Mavis, adjusting her spectacles. “It’s one of those nature’s-mistakes-from-the-druid’s-recycling-bin!”
The beast hooted. It growled. It charged.
“OWLBEAR!” someone screamed, though at this point it was less helpful information and more a desperate eulogy.
Thimble tried to dodge. The owlbear responded by introducing him to a tree using only its beak.
MONSTER STATS – OWLBEAR
AC: 5 (Protected by righteous indignation and an impenetrable layer of feathers and spite)
HP: 60 (Built like a cottage with talons)
ATTACK: Claw-Claw-Bite Combo (1d8/1d8/2d6 – the full feathered fury)
SPECIAL: Terrifying Screech – causes party members to make a saving throw or soil their trousers and run in opposite directions, often through things
“Distract it!” Mavis yelled, hurling a Magic Missile that mostly annoyed the owlbear, like being pelted with magical peas.
The barbarian, Bjorn, emerged from his nap behind a stump and hurled himself into battle shirtless, swinging his axe and roaring something about owl soup.
The owlbear was unimpressed. It hooted with the fury of ten angry librarians and slammed him into the ground like a particularly insolent fish.
“I’ve got a plan,” Thimble croaked from behind a bush, bleeding from the ego.
“Does it involve not dying?” asked Mavis.
“Sort of. More like... delayed dying.”
“Do it,” she said, already rolling initiative again.
In the end, the owlbear retreated, possibly due to injuries, possibly because it remembered it had a Zoom meeting with the druid council. The party survived, if barely.
Thimble now walks with a limp and an irrational fear of owls.
Bjorn insists he won the fight because he bit the owlbear back.
Mavis wrote a scathing letter to the local ranger’s guild about false trail signage.
The owlbear remains at large, angry, and deeply confused about why squirrels keep throwing nuts at it from a safe distance.
Coming Soon: “Shriek Hollow 2: Feathered and Furious!”
A Better Class Department
New Artificer Subclass: The Bodger
"If it isn’t broken yet, give it time."
Artificers are famous for their brilliant minds and careful craftsmanship. The Bodger is not one of them. This is the subclass for inventors who think blueprints are just rough suggestions and safety precautions are optional. The Bodger builds with scrap, string, and a lot of enthusiasm, usually while something is already on fire.
If you’ve ever shouted, “I’ve got an idea!” and then immediately needed a mop, congratulations, you’re a Bodger.
Tool Proficiency (3rd Level)
When you choose this subclass, you gain proficiency with Tinker’s Tools, Cobbler’s Tools, and anything you can wave around and claim is “for science.”
Once per long rest, you may substitute materials with random junk (like spoons, buttons, or bits of wire) when casting a spell that requires material components.
Bodge Job (3rd Level)
You can create a ridiculous but semi-functional contraption during a short rest. Roll a d6 to see what you build:
Exploding Teapot: Launches steam and sparks. One use. 2d8 fire damage in a 10-foot cone.
Goblin-Wheel Racer: Grants +10 ft movement until it topples over or bumps into something.
Snack Dispenser 3000: Heals 1d6 hit points and grants temporary hit points equal to your Intelligence modifier. Requires snacks to function.
Clockwork Ferret: Nibbles enemies for 1d6 piercing damage. May steal something small.
Hat of Sudden Magnetism: Attracts nearby metal items. Handy for catching arrows. Not great around cutlery.
???: The contraption sparks and makes a weird noise. Throw it at a target within 30 feet. Deals 3d6 force damage. Might also make a honking sound.
You can only have one Bodge Contraption at a time, unless you’re “double-bodging,” which means rolling twice and hoping they don’t combine into a flying lawnmower.
Jury-Rigged Defence (5th Level)
You've discovered that old pots, gears, and fast thinking make a decent shield.
When you take damage, you can use your reaction to cobble together a makeshift barrier. Gain temporary hit points equal to 1d8 + your Intelligence modifier.
Also, if someone rolls a critical hit against you, roll a d4. On a 4, their weapon gets stuck in your invention. Both of you must spend a round trying to get untangled.
Improvised Genius (9th Level)
You now add your Intelligence modifier to any ability check involving:
Building or fixing gadgets
Explaining odd noises with confidence
Bluffing your way through magical surprises
Assembling things that probably shouldn’t work
Also, whenever you cast a spell using an Artificer spell slot, roll a d6. On a 6, the spell goes off twice, once normally, and once at a completely random target. Could be helpful. Could be your backpack.
The Big Bodge (15th Level)
Once per long rest, you can construct your magnum opus: a whirring, clanking, blinking contraption of unpredictable wonder.
Spend 1 minute building The Big Bodge. It functions as follows:
Acts as a Large construct (AC 16, HP 60) under your control
Fires off a random magical effect each round (roll on the Wild Magic Surge table)
Communicates in beeps, whistles, and enthusiastic toots
Lasts for 10 minutes or until it explodes (which it might). When it does, it deals 4d10 damage in a 30-foot radius. Don’t worry, you’ll build another.
Final Thoughts
The Bodger is perfect for players who want to invent wildly, experiment constantly, and turn every battle into a rolling mechanical mystery. When in doubt, build something loud, shiny, and possibly chicken-powered.
Monster Mash-up
THE OWLBEARGONATHID
“It hoots. It chases. It politely corrects your pronunciation.”
A CR 5 Disaster in Feathers and Logic
What do you get when you cross the majestic Owlbear with the gibbering, tentacled menace of a Flumph? A walking contradiction with too many tentacles, too many opinions, and exactly zero patience for your lack of manners.
The Owlbeargonathid is what happens when a wizard plays “Mix & Match” with the Monster Manual and leaves the potion unattended. It looks like an owlbear that’s fallen into a vat of spaghetti and philosophy books.
OWLBEARGONATHID
Large Aberration, Chaotic Confused
Armour Class: 14 (matted feathers and slime)
Hit Points: 85 (10d10 + 30)
Speed: 40 ft., float 20 ft., awkward shuffle 10 ft.
STR 19 (+4)
DEX 12 (+1)
CON 16 (+3)
INT 10 (+0)
WIS 14 (+2)
CHA 8 (–1)
Saving Throws Wis +4, Int +2
Skills Insight +4, Arcana +2, Passive-Aggression +10
Damage Resistances Psychic, Sarcasm
Condition Immunities Confusion (it’s already there)
Senses Darkvision 60 ft., Passive Perception 14
Languages Understands Deep Speech, Common, and the unspoken language of Disapproval
Challenge 5 (1,800 XP)
TRAITS
Hovering Morality Cloud
The Owlbeargonathid constantly projects a telepathic aura of polite reprimands. Any creature that starts its turn within 15 feet must succeed on a DC 13 Wisdom save or feel incredibly judged and take 1d6 psychic damage from sheer embarrassment.
Tentacled Tactician
Despite its look, it's surprisingly good at battlefield control. Each turn, one of its five noodly appendages can either:
Grapple (escape DC 14)
Flick a random item off a shelf
Offer unsolicited advice in perfect Common
Philosoflap (Recharge 5–6)
The Owlbeargonathid hoots a paradox so profound it causes mild cranial combustion. All creatures within 30 feet must make a DC 15 Intelligence save or become stunned for 1 round. On a success, they instead suffer the existential dread of knowing owlbears can now talk.
ACTIONS
Multiattack
The Owlbeargonathid makes two attacks: one with its beak, one with a tentacle slap.
Beak: Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 12 (2d8 + 3) piercing damage.
Tentacle Slap: Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 10 ft., one target. Hit: 10 (2d6 + 3) bludgeoning damage and mild offence taken.
Defensive Flutter
It flaps its wings and releases a cloud of feathers and questionable ethics. All attacks against it have disadvantage until the start of its next turn. Anyone within 10 feet must make a DC 12 Constitution save or spend their next action sneezing.
LEGENDARY QUOTE
"You dare raise your sword in ignorance of metaphysics? How dreadfully uncouth."
OSR STATS
OWLBEARGONATHID
HD: 10
AC: 6 [13]
Attacks: Beak (2d6), Tentacle Slap (1d8 + special)
Move: 120' (40'), Float 60' (20')
No. Appearing: 1d2
Save As: Fighter 10
Morale: 9
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 1,400
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Hovering Morality Cloud
All within 15' must save vs Spells or take 1d6 psychic damage from unbearable guilt. Those who fail twice in a row must retreat 10’ in shame.
Tentacled Tactician
Once per round, may grapple (save vs Paralysis to avoid) or disarm (target loses 1 item at random unless they save vs Wands). The tentacle may also deliver a moral lecture, no mechanical effect, just pure emotional damage.
Philosoflap (1/day)
All within 30' must save vs Spells or be stunned for 1 round as their brains melt slightly from hearing “If an owlbear falls in the woods and hoots a paradox…” Those who save still suffer -2 to next roll due to existential crisis.
Defensive Flutter (3/day)
Feathers erupt in a 10’ radius. Anyone inside must save vs Breath or spend next round sneezing uncontrollably. All attacks against it suffer -2 until next round.
DESCRIPTION
Imagine an owlbear went to university, flunked out of philosophy, then fell into a vat of sentient linguine. That’s the Owlbeargonathid. It hoots in complete sentences and considers everything a teachable moment, including your party’s imminent demise.
DM Notes:
The Owlbeargonathid is great for players who take things too seriously. Drop one into a dungeon and let it hover behind the barbarian, tutting loudly. It doesn’t hoot for communication, it hoots for emphasis.
Table of Terrible Tables
CRITICAL FAILS THAT MOSTLY HURT (d10)
For those moments when the dice betray you and dignity packs its bags.
1. Sword? What Sword?
You drop your weapon so hard it lodges in the ceiling. Roll a Dexterity check to not look completely ridiculous.
2. Epic Trip, Minimal Distance
You dramatically somersault over your own foot and land face-first into a suspiciously moist patch of dungeon floor. 1d4 embarrassment damage.
3. The Reverse Robin Hood
You accidentally shoot an arrow backwards. Roll to hit the wealthiest party member. If you hit, you now owe them money.
4. Shield Slap
In a misguided display of enthusiasm, you smack yourself in the face with your own shield. Take 1d6 damage and subtract 1 from your next Charisma check.
5. Weapon Malfunction
Your weapon breaks, bends, or suddenly believes it's a salad tong. It’s unusable until mended with at least three paperclips and a minor miracle.
6. Tactical Overconfidence
You shout a battle cry, leap heroically, and land in a crate. Crate contents determined randomly: snakes, pies, or your uncle’s unpaid taxes.
7. Pants Betrayal
Your trousers fall down mid-swing. Lose your next action adjusting, or keep them down and take -2 AC. You monster.
8. Spell Goes Boom
Your magic fizzles, pops, and hits you squarely in the dignity. Roll 1d4 for a random minor magical effect: sudden moustache, fog cloud in your mouth, trousers change colour, or sneeze confetti.
9. Friendly Fire Foxtrot
You bump into an ally mid-attack, causing an awkward spin, a pulled hamstring, and 1 point of damage to friendship.
10. Critical Existential Crisis
You swing, miss, and suddenly question your entire adventuring career. Lose your next turn to internal monologue and staring into the middle distance.
NOW APPEARING IN A SKY NEAR YOU: THE CELESTIAL VISITATION™ EXPERIENCE!
(Because mortals can’t save themselves... bless their chaotic little hearts.)
Tired of your dungeon crawling without divine supervision?
Do your battle cries sound more like whimpers?
Have you or a loved one recently been smote by evil?
Worry no more! Introducing the Celestial Visitation™ Encounter, the 100% radiant, wing-flapping, harp-twanging solution to your ongoing moral incompetence!
WHAT IS IT?
An angelic intervention you didn’t ask for and probably don’t deserve! Your party will be graced by a self-righteous, armour-polished being of pure light who’s here to help. But mostly judge.
WHAT DO YOU GET?
1 glowing celestial being (complete with smug aura and flowing hair that defies gravity)
Free unsolicited advice shouted from 40 feet above your heads
A holy quest that sounds suspiciously like unpaid labour
Blinding radiance (literally make a DC 14 save vs feeling unworthy)
One (1) free revive if you say “please” and mean it
TESTIMONIALS!
“Thought we were getting treasure. Got a lecture about ‘virtue’ instead.”
– Grobnar the Chaotic
“She healed my wounds, then healed my soul. Now I knit.”
– Kraggath Skullsplitter, Reformed Barbarian
“He kept calling me ‘small creature’. I’m a half-elf.”
– Brenna, Cleric of Almost Everything
ACT NOW AND RECEIVE A BONUS MIRACLE!
Your choice of:
Cleansed dungeon air (now sandalwood scented!)
Temporary wings (flight not guaranteed, but falling with style is!)
Moral clarity (useless in combat, but great at parties)
WARNING: Celestial may smite without notice, especially if party alignment is "murky at best."
Offer void where evil reigns. Terms, conditions, and divine loopholes apply.
Celestial Visitation™ – Because You Clearly Need Help.
COMING NEXT WEEK in DUNGEON DUNCE WEEKLY!
Our exclusive scoop: skeletons unionise, mimics sue for identity theft, and one gelatinous cube shares his side of the story (“I’m not just a puddle, I’m an artist”). Plus: the top wizard duels that ended in therapy, a d12 table of things found under cursed furniture, and why your fireball spell keeps setting off the inn's smoke alarm.
COMING THIS SEPTEMBER FROM RED CAPE GAMES!
DUNGEON DUNCE is the family-friendly TTRPG misadventure perfect for parents brave enough to introduce their kids to tabletop chaos. Designed for players who top out at Level 9 (because anything higher requires a nap), this game blends old-school dungeon hijinks with laugh-out-loud rules, low-stakes monster mayhem, and a levelling system that turns every victory into a new problem.
Inside you’ll find:
A Monster Rank System where even a Giant Rat can ruin family dinner.
New creatures like the Cabbage Lich and Cosmic Duck*, designed to delight kids and mildly confuse adults.
Dunce Levels with powers and side effects like spontaneous glitter or sudden karaoke.
The Overlord’s Toolkit, with all the chaos you need to GM your household into glorious disarray.
A tutorial dungeon where someone will lose to a door.
With your first adventure already included (and already a disaster), Dungeon Dunce is the TTRPG family farce you didn’t know you needed, but your kids will never forget.
*Some claims may not be factual.
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