When the Monks Come Marching Home

Posted on April 18, 2017

You know those times where you say, ‘What if this happens?’ and everyone laughs and tells you that it is highly unlikely? The thing is though, when you play D&D, more often than not, in a world created by the guy sitting next to you, what you think is merely a funny theory may soon become reality.

Our intermediate party was on our way to an abandoned monastery to ‘get to the high ground’ so to speak. The party was made up of a Human Cleric (me), an Elven Rogue, and a Human Fighter. We had recently received word that—because of previous actions that would take too long to explain—a large force from one of the Dragon’s Temples of Tiamat was on there way to wipe us off the map. When we heard the news we immediately went into action.

We were currently in a large city, and knowing how getting in a fight this large would get bystanders killed and our party arrested, we decided to make our way to an abandoned monastery a few miles from the city. That way we figured we could make traps, have an epic battle, and trash the place without having any trouble with the authorities.

On the way to the monastery, one of us wondered out loud, “What happens if the monks come back and there monastery it totally trashed?”

“Well that would be ironic, but that’s not going to happen. The innkeeper told us that it's been abandoned for a hundred or more years.”

So we continued on to the monastery, set up our traps, and had an epic battle, during which we destroyed our enemies—along with the monastery’s tower, second floor, drawbridge, lobby, and basically everything else. Soon the only enemy left was a Clay Golem that had gone berserk in the smoke-filled and currently-burning chapel. Our Fighter, who was conveniently immune to the flames, took on the Golem while the Elf checked the moat for any survivors. I flew around the grounds to see if there were any enemy reinforcements on the way. From my Cleric’s birds-eye view, I could see three robed figures making their way along the road towards the monastery. Wanting to see if they were a threat, I flew closer.

How our DM loves irony. Wanna take a guess at who they were? By now the monks were close enough to see the flames consuming the chapel and could hear the battle raging inside. They stopped walking and just stood there, stunned. Wanting to say something, I touched down in front of them.

“Hey, is this your monastery? Because we heard it was abandoned a long time ago.”

One of them nodded. “We have been on a pilgrimage for over two years to restore this place of our ancestors’ worship. What are you doing?”

In front of us a wall collapsed in the chape,l and the Fighter called for some assistance. There was neither a short nor good answer to that question. “Uh… excuse me while I go aid my colleague in... um... destroying things.”

The monks had come back at the worst time. Don’t you love irony?

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