a fantasy book where:
- the necromancer isn’t at all evil, keeps their reanimated cat as a companion
- the ‘dark lord’ is woman who wears a floor length floral cloak and pink kitten heels
- the orcs are highly intelligent and frequently engage in orc chess and deep philosophical debates
- the elvish archer is the clumsiest, most inaccurate little shit ever
- the bard writes deep emo poetry, constantly quoting sonnets by the most talented musicians of the era- ‘fall out bard’ and ‘panic at the inn’
- the mage only knows 3 spells- and they all involve cutlery
- the intellectual character that finds the powerful relic/enchanted item/mysterious glowy thing is 120% done with all of it ‘for GODS sake, that is the SEVENTH DARK ORB THIS YEAR are yOU KIDDING’
- the healer character is also the most ripped, usually ends up treating their own wounds more than anyone elses
- the ‘deep broody’ character is actually mute the whole time but no one realises and thinks it’s just part of his moody persona until he has to fucking spell it out for them (literally), spends the whole story making exasperated faces and gestures
- the dragon that’s hunting them down for the whole story is actually just trying to give back the shoe that one of them lost while running away, and is actually very conversational ‘bro, you’ve got this all wrong– look, you dropped this bro, haha i’m always forgetting stuff too don’t worry’