Episode
Barovia V #4 The Road is Dark and Terrible
- Podcast
- D&D is For Nerds
- Published
- Aug 9, 2026
- Duration seconds
- 2744
- Processing state
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Summary
Trail Waffles: How I Found Myself Again [↓ Jump to Recipe ↓] (you can click that if you want, I won't be offended, though I will say a small prayer for you to Glizabert, Goddess of Travel, Privilege and Whatever-the-Opposite-of-White-Guilt-is) I wasn't always a person who made waffles on a donkey. I know. I know. You came here for a recipe, and instead you are getting Filmeena's Feelings, and I promise we will get there, we will get to the part with the flour and the fire, but first you have to understand about my grandmother's grandmother, a woman I never met, who according to family legend once fought off a bugbear using nothing but a cast-iron pan and sheer force of personality, and I think about her every single morning as I stand over my own cast-iron pan wondering if today is the day the bugbear comes back seeking revenge. It was autumn - or whatever passes for autumn in a world where the seasons are decided by which god is currently "on one" - and I had just left my third adventuring party in as many months, not because I don't love a good dungeon (I do, dungeons are fine , dungeons are a journey ), but because I had realised, somewhere around goblin encounter number forty-one, that nobody in my party had eaten a warm breakfast in six weeks and everyone was, frankly, being insufferable about it. You cannot reason with a paladin who has not had breakfast. I have tried. It ends in a lecture about "Nome guilt" and "we must confess about the sin of taste". All this from a man who, and I cannot stress this enough, eats hardtack dry. So I quit the party. I kept the donkey. The donkey's name is Big Clop and he has never once complained about waffles, which already makes him a better travel companion than most of the two-legged adventurers I've adventu…