THE GOONFUCKS are an adventuring party of actors, musicians, beer brewers, web developers, and woodworkers in the Philadelphia/NJ area. Their ongoing Curse of Strahd campaign has earned the attention of D&D fans and players through its rich storytelling, thrilling role play, and a deep love for the game & each other.

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In this clip, we're deep in battle with the Druids of Yester Hill... 
Winnie has cast Locate Object, discovering that the gem required to stop the ritual is in the mouth of a terrifying tree beast. Drogar is downed with one failed death save, and Winnie is 60ft in the air at the gnashing mouth of the tree, having been chomped once already, knocking her to half health in a single hit.

Winnie casts her Spiritual Weapon, attempting to use it to hold open the mouth of the beast so she can dash through. It fails. She goes in after the gem anyway...and is once again chomped by the beast.
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As Winnie waits to hear her fate, Drogar makes a bold sacrifice...
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"Winnie Winchester" by Campbell O'Hare

WINNIE WINCHESTER
Stout Halfling/Peace Cleric of the Waywarden

The door of the tavern opens and closes, a bell chimes, but it seems that no one has entered...

​It is then that you hear a pair of feet in black leather Mary Janes pitter-patter across the sticky wood floor of the tavern and run straight to the fireplace in the corner. Coming into view around the corner of the bar is a stocky little stout halfling girl, about 3ft tall. She wears a school uniform jumper of indigo & navy plaid with silver accents and a white button-up shirt underneath, one of her stained knee-high socks bunching up around her ankle. You recognize the patch on the uniform...the Academy of the Twilight Matron, a towering and insular girls' school, several miles outside of town. How did this kid end up all the way out here?

​Winnie's sunburnt cheeks from a childhood of farm life clash with her orangey-red hair, crudely cut to chin length, sticking out at all angles, and shorter on one side than the other. There is a bandage across her bruised nose and her face is badly scraped and cut. She has broad features, big gray eyes and a round nose. Around her neck hangs a strange holy symbol on a leather cord; it looks like a petrified chicken foot with too many talons. As she settles by the fire to warm herself, she checks around cautiously, then reaches into her canvas shoulder bag and pulls out her well-loved stuffed Moorbounder, Tallyho. She warms his little paws by the fire as well, singing a lullaby quietly to herself.
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