Invitation letter #

From: My comfy displacer beast sofa

To: The small-yet-somehow-significant smelly group from the planet known as Dirtworld-457-B

Greetings, Gloriously Smelly Champions !

I am Lord Veyuun, Supreme Entertainer of the 7th Fold, Archduke of Dramatic Entrances, and Founder of the ever-thrilling, sometimes-accidentally-lethal Zargathian Rumble™!

Now, I know what you’re thinking:

“Who? What? Where?”

Excellent questions. Some of these may be answered—poorly—by my low-paid messenger, Glib, so I won’t bother explaining them myself.

So... you’ve caught my eye. Yes, you. Despite existing in "Whatever-it’s-called," your actions have made ripples—tiny, weird, glorious ripples. One of my Beholders saw you do that thing with a rock and harass a grumpy, creepy meddler. Magnificent.

Also, some of you appear to have prior experience in this sort of thing—rare for this job.

So! By the powers questionably vested in me, you are officially invited to enter the Zargathian Rumble™—a voluntary (wink) combat extravaganza featuring puzzles, peril, monsters, prizes, and a surprising number of flying fish and green monkeys. You’ll face off against champions from realms both real and theoretical.

Rewards include:

✔ Gold, jewels

✔ Magical items (some with attitude)

✔ A very loud trophy

✔ Bragging rights—and potentially bragging lefts

And if you do fall? Fret not!

If the crowd finds your demise amusing, moving, or meme-worthy, you’ll be revived!

Probably intact.

To accept you should inform my dull messenger and hope nothing horrible happens to him along the way. He knows not but there will not be any teleportation to bring him back due to rising operational costs and the journey home is laced with many dangers that promise gruesome death… Fret not though information can be extracted from heavily mutilated bodies so your message should reach us safely.

When our next session is ready we will inform you with questionable means and a floating, slightly judgmental portal will appear near your bedroll within three nights. Walk through it backwards, humming something heroic.

Then you will be transported to our exciting Boring Room™, where a group of nameless bureaucrats will collect your dull information and enroll you in our extravaganza through a long, painstaking, and arguably necessary procedure!

So, what do you say, champions?

Fame! Fortune! Possibly food!

Entertain all—and be remembered forever until the next season.

With theatrical regard,

Lord Veyuun the politely rude

Conductor of the Zargathian Rumble™

Owner of 2.34 Realities

He Who Resembles a Lich (but it is not)