The god leaned back and watched the events unfold before him, ambrosia in hand. Five adventurers had just stumbled upon a group of monsters, comprised of a large beholder and several smaller ones that seemed to cluster around like so much spoiled fruit on his temple altars. “Why the cuss would I eat fruit when I can conjure deliciousness? Who in their right mind thinks ‘Mm. Fruit. Surely the god will want fruit instead of an orgy?’ Mortalscuss it! Cuss, even the fruits among them know better! Stupid, celibate mothercussing priests!” the god thought. He put the thought away.
As far as he could make out, the gnome, (“Is there anything more annoying than those high pitched voices asking for mercy?,” he thought “Stupid cusses.”), a warforged (“Steelgod, perhaps? Hard to ascertain without knowing the designation”), a cussing tiefling (“Cuss tieflings in general, bunch of dirty dirty word-mongers spawn. Cuss them right in the cuss”), a goliath (“What an ugly mothercusser. But, mortalcuss, he’s ripped!”), and a knight of some order or another (“Is it me, or do these rude words stand out no matter what company they keep? Cuss, son.”) were an adventuring company. “Why the very warm place would these people be working together, especially that gnome*?” pondered the god, “My mortals, these adventurers never cease to amaze me.”
[Editor’s note:] Winward gets his name from the unfortunate side effect of being at bum level to most beings. Hence, he’s always “Winward” when folks break their wind. The god’s surprise, therefore, is at the notion that a gnome would travel with such a tall group of adventurers since he would always be sucking down fumes.]
As the battle began, he realized the company of adventurers had no idea how to tackle the beholder. “Guess that makes sense. Beholders. Who in the very warm place thought ‘Boy, lets take tentacles and put it on a meatball, then give the mortalscussed thing eyeballs? Savior Figure, that’s just ridiculous!” And it was indeed just plain cussing ridiculous. The beholder and its minions descended upon the group with fury, pouring eyebeams out like a steady stream of hot, liquid butter. Although the smaller creatures were easily dispatched (as in, woah. Calm. The. Cuss. Down. They’re just minions)the larger beholder continued to rain destruction upon the adventurers (BEAMS!).
Slowly, the god noticed that they began to act more decisively, trying to shimmy up a column in order to knock the beast down. It didn’t make sense for the barbarian to do it by himself, but someone must have given him the idea. The god pondered on this for a moment, before going back to the action. “They must have some help. Is it possible that someone gives a rat’s cuss about them?”
“Oh well, the thing hovers. Even when it’s knocked down to the ground. Stupid cusses,” he sighed. Eventually, the goliath, who probably was not known for his intelligence, fell victim to the eyebeams. At the sight, the god called over his companions “Chad! Kyle! Come check this cuss out! This is cussing hilarious, guys! This big, dumb mothercusser got turned into stone!” Chad and Kyle, alas, were engaged in dalliances with mortal women, and so could not be roused to attend. “Well, cuss you guys. I’m going to go cuss your mother, you know how the mortals eat that cuss up, dirty words!” Kyle and Chad continued to ignore him. After all, his priests were pretty boring. Because let’s be honest…what kind of god are you if your worshipers bring you cussing fruit?
The goliath was now a very ripped statue, which meant two things. First, he was going to be really hard to move. Second, he was getting more useless by the minute. A high resistance doesn’t do jack cuss if you aren’t being attacked. The tiefling was pretty crude phrased off. The gnome was stunned. The warforged either didn’t care, or thought it was hilarious. But then again, they don’t really have faces, so it’s hard to tell on a good day, never mind in the heat of battle. “Mortals, that warforged is a real crude word-bag,” said the god. “And I thought the knight was a rude word. That warforged guy must have been in some fraternal order to have learned to be that big of a rude word.”
Any who, the excitement was palpable, because when things look bad for the adventurers, the gods really love it. After all, mortals do stupid things like trying to become gods themselves. Which really just crude phrases the divine beings off. But back to the story. “Very warm place yeah, dirty words!” thought the god, “Crude phrase, rude word!” He was really getting into it. However, the adventurers surprised him, particularly as the knight climbed the column to engage the creature in melee combat.
“Wait. First the goliath and now the knight?! The cussing knight figured that cuss out? What the cuss is this cuss?! Those guys are cussing dumb as very warm place! Cuss this cuss!” The knights actions, however irrespective of his character traits and/or actual abilities, caused the beholder to retreat by applying his fair and balanced techniques, and for a time, the adventurers seemed to have the upper hand. They simply could not be put out of commission, and slowly worked in on the beholder. After a few moments of dialogue that should actually have gotten them killed for all the standing around, the tiefling started activating some sort of device on the sides of the pillars “What the very warm place is that stupid dirty word doing?” questioned the god.
He didn’t notice, however, that the warforged was gone until the portals in the room sprung to life. “Oh. Portals. Great. Too bad the cussing thing is cussing 20 feet above the ground. What the cuss do they think? It’s not just going to cussing hop through the portal. I mean, cuss, son. Well, they better figure that cuss out in a cussing hurry, because the beholder looks cussing crude phrased.”
But, the god had to laugh at the scene before him, “Savior figure. They cussing need to invent science, because these guys have no idea how portals work. Dumb cusses.” The whole notion of black holes, distortion fields and gravity simply had no place in a world full of magic. “Oh, this should be good though.” The gnome, who had with his companions moved to the other side of a room, gave out several high pitched squeaks, grunts and shouts. “Damn. Every rat dirty word in heat is going to come running to cuss this guy,” thought the god, “He definitely has the rat crude word for it. Gnomes. Nature’s rat cussers.”
As expected, the beholder ignored the gnome, and began making for the door. You know. Since the gnome didn’t speak the beholder language and all, and just ended up sounding like the rat king’s mating call. Squeak, squeak mothercussers.
The god spat out his ambrosia. “Oh, cuss!” he thought, “This is gonna’ be a complete clustercuss. Those dirty words are cussing dead!” He called his companions again, “Chad! Kyle, get the cuss over here, crude words!” And this was only the beginning, as the portals winked out…the god ran off to grab more ambrosia…