Faerûn Holidays We Should Probably Forget About

Hey adventurers! As the real world begins to string faerie lights across the snow-speckled landscape, I am often reminded of nostalgia, community, and how much I would like to retreat into a fantasy world where fewer things catch on fire due to faulty faerie light wiring.

But if you're like me, you escape into the world of Dungeons and Dragons still hoping to find new versions of nostalgia, community, and arson. You want to celebrate the occasional holiday while immersed in D&D, one that further paints the details into D&D's elaborate realm of Faerûn.

Well good news! I spent dozens of years in a mage tower (I rolled a 1d12 a few times while eating Trader Joe's Pumpkin O's cereal) and came out the other side with this list of terrible holidays you can insert into your own fantasy realm. Honestly, it's probably better than you didn't because at least a couple of them are rather violent, but some people like their D&D to contain violence for some reason, so who am I to tell you what to do?

Selûne's Sick Day

Once per calendar year, the Moon Maiden Selûne decides she is tired of providing her light in the afterglow of day and goes and bails on showing up, so she can go party with her friends. There is no noticeably difference to creatures other than a slightly darker night sky, an inability for druids to cast moonbeam, and the sound of a gigantic margarita blender mysteriously whirring in the great distance.

Blibdoolpoolp's Loopadoop

 This kuo-toa holiday is not confined to any particular day on the Calendar of Harptos, instead it was invented by the insane fish-folk as a way of paying tribute to their goddess Blibdoolpoolp, a giant naked lady with a crayfish head, and they only remember the holiday if they are exposed to sunlight for over a period of an hour.

Yeah, um, also I didn't make her up. That's her on the left, being summoned and looking fabulous at a particularly festive Blibdoolpoolp's Loopadoop barbecue. The kuo-toa believe there is only one way to please Blibdoolpoolp: find a way to flip one's self in a circle so that you hang upside down. Unfortunately the lack of rollercoasters in Faerûn makes this incredibly complicated, and many kuo-toa die as they roam the beaches searching for way they may hastily assemble contraptions that will flip them around, often maiming or decapitating them. Do not try to stop them for fear of them hurting themselves, they will bite you as often as they can without it interrupting whatever trebuchet-self-launch they are attempting to rig with a palm tree and seaweed.

The polite thing to do if you find a pile of kuo-toa heads and limbs is to kick them into the shade with your boot and not look directly into their dead eyes. It's not so much a cultural kuo-toa thing as a way to make it less gross for the next humanoid to walk down that beach. (It's good hygiene and less likely to ruin your date.)

If you would like to celebrate Blibdoolpoolp's Loopadoop with the kuo-toa in your life, but in a safe and responsible way, simply buy a fish at the local market and throw it high in the air while screaming nonsense words. Most fish-mongers will understand the sentiment.

Ride A Walrus To Work Day

Exactly what it sounds like—but not as eco-friendly as it sounds, given that all D&D transportation either spends spell components or requires feeding an animal. This holiday requires several metric tons of fish, a DC 20 Wisdom (Animal Handling) check, and a workplace with coworkers who don't look like appetizing fish. Note this handy illustration for some of the less common, but still appetizing examples of crustacean-y and cephalopod-y humanoids who might normally be good at taming a giant walrus, but if they are your unwitting office-mate they may also look like walrus food. Though this holiday always takes place on Marpenoth 2nd, it is much easier to take part in if it falls after a Blibdoolpoolp's Loopadoop as there will be free kuo-toa parts everywhere for your walrus mount to scavenge.

For those who are allergic to walrus dander, fret not, no workplace openly supports this holiday. It's just one of those weird holidays invented by some Faerûn social media influencer who wanted to sell a bunch of their walrus crafts on Fantasy Etsy.

Bring Your Almiraj To Work Day

It's impossible to deny that an almiraj fits the traditional definition of adorzable, but it is also hard to deny that "blood loss due to artery ruptures caused in almiraj accidents" is becoming an increasingly common cause of death.

Originally this holiday was invented by managers who thought their employees needed something to counteract working long hours in the dark of Nightal. They did not, however, take into account just how skittish and untamable most almiraj are, and how good they are at aiming their deadly horn with deadly accuracy when they feel threatened. They'll carve you up more than a narwhal going after an unfriendly ice floe. On the bright side, most almiraj attacks are covered by insurance, as long as you weren't subject to pre-existing almiraj attacks and are considered high-risk.

Unsure if your workplace celebrates Bring Your Almiraj To Work Day? Look for dried blood under the desks. The wounds may be close to the ground but they tend to spray upwards.


Dan Telfer is the Dungeons Humorist aka Comedy Archmage for D&D Beyond (a fun way they are letting him say "writer"), dungeon master for the Nerd Poker podcast, a stand-up comedian, a TV writer who also helped win some Emmys over at Comedy Central, and a former editor of MAD Magazine and The Onion. He can be found riding his bike around Los Angeles from gig to gig to gaming store, though the best way to find out what he's up to is to follow him on Twitter via @dantelfer.

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