[Channel Teaser] How A Fat Drunken Monk Beat The Demon Lord Hi everyone. All Things DnD is back with another story. Never underestimate the power of a monk and
his ability to brew the finest of booze. So fill up a cup and listen to this fantastic
story and make sure you tell us about your unique characters after listening to this: The party is all min-maxed to hell in preparation
for what will surely be a terrifying campaign not a fan of going ham so I go healer. Since the party definitely has damage covered
that leaves me open to try something different. The rest of the party consists of a Fighter,
a Sorcerer, a Rogue, and a Gunslinger, all they know is combat and work. I decided the party needed someone to help
mellow it out and keep them in check with reality, to remind them what they are fighting
for. Enter Father Nicoloso Abbatangelo, Cleric
of Cayden Cailean (The Accidental/Drunken God) who dabbles in Alchemy on the side. Pretty much your typical medieval monk, brews
beer and wine, studies alchemy, friendly to everyone. One of those generic priests that are always
at the villages that you stop by for heals, just going about their day helping everyone
and doing charity work. He’s a big portly happy old man who just
wanted everyone to be safe and have a good time. As one player put it "it's like Friar Tuck
and Uncle Iroh adopted a kid and replaced all the tea with beer". Nicoloso was an Abbot as his name would suggest,
lived peacefully in a town that the party had stopped by. Their healer had died and they needed anyone
who would help, naturally the large father agreed to tag along. His name is a mouthful so they just call him
Abbot, though the Gunslinger insisted on calling him Saint Nick since his usual half-drunken
state made his nose red, he constantly gifted the slinger with more powder and fancy bullets,
and he was definitely fat enough to play the part. So the party sets off with their new healer
in tow, as well as his rather large wagon full of supplies and tools A quick mention about Abbot's wagon. Being a common man he did not live out of
a backpack like the rest of the party, he was reasonable and he had a wagon full of
food and tools and various other things. However when I say full I mean full, this
was a fricken conestoga wagon which was designed to carry 6 tons of freight. He had an alchemy table, oven, hammer and
anvil, forge, grindstone, spare robes and clothes for EVERYONE, half a ton of food and
water, another half a ton of beer wine and whiskey, spinning wheel, spare wheels, butter
churn, full distillery, more alchemical components than you could shake a 10 foot pole at, and
pretty much everything else the party could ever practically or impractically need. He even brought a pair of cows named Sasha
and Maxima to walk behind it while the bulls Brachev and Vitaly pulled. Naturally the party started to throw an absolute
fit when they realized their travel speed would slow down to a blindingly fast 10 miles
a day. Then the rogue realized that the wagon could
still carry 4 more tons of crap and just about creamed herself when she thought of all the
loot she could hide in it. The gunslinger was too busy preparing to enact
all his wildest western fantasies on it to give a hoot about speed. The fighter and sorcerer were still a little
iffy but they got over it when Abbot put up hammocks so they could rest without even stopping. Eventually after a one sided vote they let
him keep it and they set off to their great adventure Traveling turns into a twisted Oregon Trail
from hell. Have cured dysentery no fewer than 5 times. Had to bury a hireling. "Here lies RICK, "He got the shits" "
Owlbears when we go hunting or leave the trail. Raids from tribes of goblins and orcs. Quickly learned that Abbot was most definitely
not optimized for battle. An overweight monk who refused to wear armor
and was definitely not fit for combat of any type whatsoever. HOWEVER he was a godsend when it came to supporting,
especially after the Gunslinger gave him a blunderbuss. Everyone was well rested, had more than enough
healing, had alchemy vials and treated weapons. Every now and again would see the wonder of
a bomb being lobbed through the air by the impromptu grenade launcher. While he didn't do a lot of damage by himself
he made sure the party's lives were significantly easier and that their loot was always safe. Mostly because he stayed with the wagon to
hide and heal/create as needed. As such the wagon became a bit of a priority
for the party and most of the tactics revolved around staying near it or keeping the enemy
away from it. On one occasion in particular an Orc got past
the party and made a dash for the wagon, the Gunslinger fumbling a last minute shot as
it jumped in. Abbot was in the middle of getting an Alchemist's
Fire bomb ready when his unexpected guest entered and his blunderbuss was out of reach. Seeing no other option he grabbed the vial,
grabbed another of kerosene, drained them both directly into his mouth. One passed constitution check later the orc
had a very bad time. The portly priest followed his flaming intruder
out of the wagon, giving his best battle cry as flames shot everywhere, which caused the
remaining orcs to decide that perhaps they should be somewhere else. The rest of the party turned and stared in
awe. Abbot burped as a puff of smoke left his nostrils,
politely covered his mouth and apologized, then went back into his wagon. A few weeks later the party is in a city going
after a lord doing some very unsavory things with the other planes. He knows we are coming, but we need to get
into the keep and no way in hell is the party is gonna sneak in there. They need someone unsuspecting who blends
in. The party (and table) slowly turn and look
at Abbot (and me). Welp. Don't even need a disguise, just waddles his
fat ass right into the keep. He talks with all the other priests, takes
a visit to the king's wine cellar to make sure everything is as high quality as his
god would like. Asked to sample some old brands just to make
sure they are still good and aren't poisoned since divine protection and all that. Christmas came early
Proceeds to get his wine snob on. He goes through the entire damn cellar marking
which ones are crap, which ones are good enough, even identifies a few poisoned ones. Throws out over half the wine in the cellar,
so much it's turning the streams red. The lord hears about this and demands to meet
this priest. Abbot is dragged out of the cellars to the
throne room to meet the lord. By the time Abbot gets to the inner keep he
is absolutely sloshed, his blood alcohol content is so damn high a Vampire would consider him
a hard liquor. Barely able to stand by the time he meets
the lord. Time to talk with him, the extremely honest
and nice monk is hammered and needs to stay undercover. Gods help me. Proceed to knock over a dozen charisma checks
out of the park. Rich idiot gets a kick out of it, tells his
guards "that there is a man who's dedicated to his work"
Instantly promoted to cellar keeper. Demands Abbot start a new brand to help with
his income. Develop a new wine only using water that is
Holy Water and blessed grapes. Name the brand Drunken Monk. Celebrate with more wine. The party now has a man on the inside. They can't poison the lord, that would blow
Abbot's cover. Can't assassinate him or charge in, too many
guards and the guy is paranoid. The party is out of ideas. But Abbot has a plan. We're gonna help him do his planar stuff. The Party is skeptical. But Abbot convinces them to roll with it. Charisma. The party has no idea what the plan is but
they trust Saint Nick. Start running secret missions for the lord. Abbot keeps bringing him wine and thwarting
assassination attempts. The lord loves this fat bastard. Weeks pass, the Lord has everything ready,
he's going to bind himself with a demon in exchange for power and immortality. He throws a party with all his advisors and
friends, of course the abbot is there supplying drinks and having a good time. He makes sure to give the lord PLENTY of wine. The ritual starts, the party all looks at
Abbot for the dramatic interference and grand master plan. Abbot doesn't even leave his seat, just sits
and watches. The party waits, the demonic circle starts
glowing. Abbot just sips his wine. The party panics and goes into action mode. They start fighting their way through underlings
and minions as the lord starts to transform. Abbot just throws out enough heals to keep
them alive, no buffs or alchemy. He doesn't seem bothered in the slightest. The lord floats up into the air, burst of
red light, then drops to the ground. Big ol' demon wings and horns. The party is losing their crap. The demon lord stands and gets ready to tear
them apart. Then he starts screaming. The demon lord falls to the ground, vomiting
profusely and yelling. Abbot is still calmly sitting in his chair. The fighting stops as everyone stares at the
demon lord dying on the floor. His body breaks down and starts burning. Nobody knows what is going on. The party turns and stares at Saint Nick. Before the transformation he gave the lord
three whole bottles of Drunken Monk. Once he became a demon he counted as an Evil
Outsider. The demon had drunk three whole bottles of
distilled holy water and blessed grapes. Father Nicoloso Abbatangelo grinned and looked
back at the party as he took a sip "He never did appreciate Good wine." Cheers to the good guys! What an awesome character. Please let us know what you think and comment
below! Don’t forget to subscribe to our channel,
All Things DnD. Our next video will be posted in 3 days, so
stay tuned for more amazing Dungeons & Dragons content!
Monk points at a row of wine: crap crap crap crap crap, poisoned, crap, watered down, crap crap, piss, crap, oooooh an herbal alcohol known to keep the tent pitched, if you know what I mean hhehehe.....(continues on) crap crap, very rare, crap crap crap, THIS SHOULD NOT COUNT AS BOOZE, crap crap, good good good, ah the python booze of the Monties known to make the saddest people smile.
Couldn't hold his wine