#bandit encounter

[geckcellentmaps]

A quick battlemap of a mountain bandit camp I used recently in my campaign. Boulders, cliffs, and red igneous rock protrusions make great cover, but there's no avoiding this pack of bandits waiting in the road.

commissions are open

[dailyadventureprompts]

Encounter: Tossup on the Tollroad

Artsource

Setup: The party are travelling either by themselves or as guards for some caravan, making their way along an old road widely known to have fallen into disrepair thanks to the local lord's mismanagement.

What a surprise then when the party approach an old fortified toll house and discover it garrisoned with troops in the lord's livery, who are now expecting them to pay exorbitant fees for the privilege of crossing into the lord's domain.

The toll collectors are beligerant and one or two even appear drunk. Not paying their toll ads days, maybe weeks to the party's journey, and crossing overland will not only be slow going, but dangerous, as monsters have been known to be creeping back into the region from the wilderness (again, due to the lord's mismanagement).

Challenges & Complications:

Plenty of folks call tollgates "highway robbery" but in this instance it's far more literal. The garrison are infact a group of bandits who have laid their hands on some of his soldier's uniforms, or fashioned crude imitations. The ones interacting with the party have mostly legitimate looking outfits, but those standing back have increasingly flimsy disguises which a perceptive character might notice.

The bandits demand to inspect packs and cargo for "contraband" as a means of seeing whether the party is worth robbing beyond paying their hiked up crossing fee. If one of them finds something good, they make a quick signal to the ones on the battlements which tells them to drop the portcullis after the travellers are through, cutting off their escape before launching their attack.

More than a couple merchants have fallen victim to the ruse already, and the party may notice the their wagons and pack animals tucked away, some of the former showing signs of struggle. The contents of these wagons are sitting inside the fortress waiting to be fenced, meaning a party that defeats the bandits may have stumbled into a small fortune of trade goods, as well as mementos, messages in need of delivery. My advice is to cram this treasure-drop full of quest hooks.

Selling the goods may get the party accused of banditry themselves, turning a potential payday into a brush with the law.

[2minutetabletop]

The Acid Pit

Patchwork Paul, a man consumed by unrelenting pain, seeks a twisted retribution against the world that abandoned him to his fate. ☣️

→ Read the article and download the included battle map here!

[moviestvpolls]

1977 Movies

[greyias]

My honor mode run has (surprisingly) not ended! Somehow my sparkly pretty bard girl is still alive! She survived the fight outside the grove, the skellie bellie fight to grab Withers (and successfully respec the party to my insane 3 rangers 1 bard setup), and they even got through the harpy fight and saved our little aspiring adventurer at the beach! I dipped my girl into one level of Wild Magic sorcerer, because quite frankly, things aren't blowing up enough on her to match her ttrpg counterpart.

Which is good because the Tides of Chaos is the only thing that saved Arabella (because no save scumming while Honor Mode is active! It's harrowing)

They've also broken all of their thieves toolkits on various crates around the grove to try and get enough money to fund all of the arrows for the rangers' quivers, so... that's about accurate.

We're about to now go back to Wither's house to help him deal with his bandit problem. Pray for us.

[landgraabbed]

her name is farama. redguard priest of mara. pacifist, though she did kill one kwama forager. she too started at thrisk hall but having started out with water walking she managed to head to fort frostmoth and out of the island. she's still alive hehe

[wolfman-al]

Three bandits my DnD group has faced in their first encounter.

[kaizokuseb]

i asked my sister and nephew today how much combat they would like to be in our game because i’m more story-focused and i was a little worried they would want more interesting fights. their responses

my sister: idk but not a lot. i’m a gnome bard named lamppost jr. i would like to not fight

my nephew: *shrug* can i seduce the monsters?

so i think we’re on the same wavelength here.

[bucketofchum]

"Is this yours?! Atumu, are you bleeding?"

"I did not want to cause us to lose time, Master..."

"Time, I can afford to lose, Atumu."

Dialogue only version above. Below, more descriptive...

At a certain point, King no longer heard Atumu's footsteps behind him. He turned around, only to find a pile of robes collapsed on the dune. King rushed over to his travel companion, calling out his name in alarm.

Atumu's breathing was light but haggard. He clutched shakily at his linen robes, which were soaked a deep crimson red and staining the sand.

It quickly became apparent to King that they had not left their encounter with the bandits unharmed.

"I did not want to cause us to lose time, Master" Atumu breathily mustered.

"Time, I can afford to lose, Atumu." You, I cannot, were the words left unspoken.

[mobbothetrue]

Rules: Make a new post and post your latest line from your WIP and tag as many people as there are words.

Hough! Okay!!! Technically I’ve been tagged in this twice, by @sagethegremlin and by @neurotypical-sonic ! Uhm. Except. I’ve not been— okay so I have been writing but

I got thinking about a project that I did a little bit of two (2) years ago, right? And I was just reading what I had written down two years ago, and I realized I used the word ‘neck’ twice, and that bugged me, so I changed one of the words, so technically the last “”sentence”” I wrote is just. The word.

“[…]skin.”

Which isn’t fantastic for a last line, tag, I think, so I thought ‘oh okay I’ll just go to the thing I was writing before that’, except that’s my extremely self indulgent splatoon TMNT crossover that I may not even like. Publish. so I’m a little uncertain about sharing a snippet of it because it’s a very very new direction for me (putting, what is, essentially, an oc into an established -verse) and I’d like to nurture it a bit more before I share anything

So then I thought ‘okay okay I’ll go to the thing before that!’ but that’s just. stopgap. which is already published. So I’ve just been sitting on these tags and sweating

and I did think ‘oh i’ll just write something new and slap that on here :)’ but then I. Didn’t do that. And I am so so aware of the passage of time so!

Here is my line.

“Edelgard knows only that she is alive by the breath, wet, against her skin.”

for which, the only new word, the rest having been written two years ago, is skin, so. I will be tagging @lessrthanthree . Godspeed chief

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: Hunger in the Belly, Hate in the Eye

Artsource

The Duchess's Marshal is possessed of an iron fist and a slipping grasp on reality. Tasked with keeping order during a grain shortage in the countryside, he can't help but see malcontents everywhere, sowing the seeds of rebellion with their disobedience. How was he supposed to know that farmer boy would die when he had their whole family flogged for hoarding, why should the blame fall on him when they all broke the law? His men can deal with the resentful rabble but what happens when his liege finds out? Will she think he went too far in her name? What happens when they all discover that no matter how many guards or wards he puts on the granaries the rats always seem to get into them, rats who started the blight in the first place, along with those lazy tillers not pulling their weight since they were freed from serfdom, no better than the rats themselves...

On and on he spirals, as the hunger pangs grow.

Adventure Hooks:

Lean times are bad for everyone, most of all the common people, who always get the raw end of the deal despite putting in the most work keeping things from going lean in the first place. With the threat of famine looming, markets in a riot, and the powers that be more unhelpful than ever, the local people hire the heroes to be their champions. This mostly involves dealing with bandits pilfering supplies, keeping profiteers from strongarming the desperate, and fending off the monsters the local garrison can't be arsed to manage.

Their job might also involve going directly against that garrison when the Marshal's abuses get out of hand, whether by intervening in some act of jackbooted justice or stealing much needed provisions from fortified storehouses.

More than just petty and Paranoid, the Marshal is afflicted by the demon Vivvverrriiik, who stokes the embers of his hatred just as he piles on further crisis as kindling. Riot, starvation, and bloodshed are all the demon crave, and the party may not sense they're caught up in a supernatural scheme until it is too late.

[shinysheil]

Hmmm

Surprise! Tumblr just got turned into an epic fantasy RPG, just like [your favorite appropriate media franchise]. And the Tumblr RPG's plot needs to have all of its characters covered, in roles both large and small.

That means that you are assigned to a stereotypical RPG role inside our new fantasy world. Spin this wheel to find out what you are now doing for a living.

[daisyachain]

That reminds me, would love for Jonnit to get a recurring side piece. He has a new partner each arc to play with and there’s just a little something missing compared to a recurring character. Balanced out by him getting paired up with Gable or Orimar frequently enough that he doesn’t ever feel lonely.

[aparticularbandit]

The thing about writing a what if Tohru died and then Akito leaves and etc. fic is like.

Akito is gone, yeah? Separated from the Sohmas.

Means I need to bring in characters for Akito to interact with that aren't any of the canon characters in Furuba and aren't connected to any of the canon characters in Furuba.

Which means either I make a host of OCs or I pull from something else entirely.

And my mind is immediately reaching for Danganronpa and like Akito can not be in the vicinity of Junko ever. I have talked about how BAD that would be.

I'm debating having Akito get adopted by Chisa (for VA doubling funsies), but really Akito + Yui is probably where I'm heading.

Which means Tohru Dies gets combined with Yui Lives which like.

I'M GONNA WRITE A FIC THAT IS SO SELF-INDULGENT.

[ghostedbunnie]

nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly. 

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in. 

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach. 

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.” 

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.” 

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin

[diminuel]

He's taking the stinky child back to the village.

Ace is confused that biting didn't deter Crocodile from picking him up. He doesn't know what to do now.

Continuation of this comic where Crocodile encounters a feral child in the woods (or rather, mountain bandits put a feral child in his path *lol*) ♥♥

(Next part! Stinky child goes in the bath!)