#eberron express

[tubbsen]

I'm going to be running the Murder on the Eberron Express D&D oneshot for the third time soon and getting the old man in the red vest murdered again, instead of getting him into a polyamorous relationship with his wife and valet

Pretty messed up tbh smh

[mierolainen]

I played Murder on the Eberron Express recently, and my brilliant DM customised it into one hell of a murder mystery drama! so naturally I had to do fake screenshots like some sorta movie guy

[erlie]

My character for Murder on the Eberron Express.

Aymon is the Loyal Retainer archetype and I'll probably build him as a half-elf paladin, even if the build does not matter much in this murder mystery.

[bibliosims]

vesta d'ghallanda · half-drow · enchantment wizard

for @hauntedtrait’s murder on the eberron express one-shot

[babybluesquid]

Consequences of Karrnath Drabble 3

A Letter of Encompassing Love

18 Nymm 999 YK

My brilliant bonfire, Nux,

It took me many attempts to put this down to writing. I find it hard to write, as I’ve written nearly nothing in a long time. In fact, I found it necessary to enlist Vakaris to scribe for me, in order to make it legible. I will work on my own writing more, so that my next letter to you might be in my own hand. I hope the Orien courier finds you soon, as I only have a vague idea of where to send this.

I must confess that I have wanted to go to the Mror Holds myself, to find you and help you with your battle. But I know you would hate me for it. This is your own fight, not mine. It makes me worried that I cannot be there to keep you safe. Not because you are incapable, but because I love you and I want to aid you. If you invite me, I will leave everything behind to be by your side. If you want me to, I will help you remove this pact, just as I aided you in the past. But if you still want to find your own path, I will allow you to. I cannot promise I will not fear for you, in that case, so please tell me of the War Below to relieve some small part of my anxieties.

In exchange, I shall tell you of my own circumstances.

With the money the king granted me, Vaeren and I were able to open up a shop, Bone Brew, in the Commerce Ward. The building is built of strong black stone, and has living spaces on the second floor. We’re currently using the main floor to sell tea as we wait for our first brew of ale. Vaeren thinks that perhaps we need to change our business model, that we’ll likely not make a profit off our initial plan. Truly, it was more a fantasy than a plan, and now we dwell in reality.

The people of the city seem split on my presence. As my identity as an undead was already thoroughly revealed, I saw no possibility of concealing it once again, and so I walk openly. Many seem distrustful of me, and I cannot blame them for this. Even the Crimson Covenant keep themselves sequestered away from public view, and so I am uniquely visible.

Still, some others, especially secret Seekers, have expressed appreciation of me and my efforts. I have made no effort to publicize my defeat of the Shadow Sword, and yet the news has still somehow slipped out. Most believe it a ridiculous rumor. I say let them believe what they may, I do not want followers.

Also, beyond simple mistrust and derision, I have encountered hostility. Just one month ago, I was attacked within the Bone Brew by a Tairnidal named Jhalira. They came in vengeance for the Valas Tairn that are dead because of me. Fortunately, I was able to defeat them without killing them, and I let them go free. I’m sure you just scoffed at the idea, and if you were here you would’ve told me that I ought to have dealt the killing blow, or at least turned them over to the wolves. I understand your opinion, it would certainly be the easier path, but I do not think it would be effective. If I killed them, another would come to avenge Jhalira, and then the warrior after them, and I would never be free from Tairnidal vengeance. If I turned them over to the wolves, they would stew in their anger while in confinement. I had to let Jhalira loose, a deliberate act of mercy meant to allow them to determine their own path. My hope is that they will take the opportunity.

There are also still Red Watchers within the city, though the lions are set to rooting them out. I have been ambushed in the streets by those terrorists and their sympathizers on two occasions. On the first, I was within the Low District, and The Wall came to my aid midway through the battle. A dozen Red Watchers were apprehended in the aftermath. On the second occasion, I was alone, beset by twenty-some assailants, and I had to flee. It is frustrating, to be so strong and yet to still be vulnerable against numbered foes.

Vaeren and I have thus continued training, in order to keep our skills sharp and continue to grow in strength. I had hoped to never fight again, but that was also fantasy. Though stabilized for now, following the scattering of the Red Watchers and the decimation of the Ministry of Dead, Karrnath remains a dangerous place with many rogue elements. Especially now, these forces feel backed against a wall, and that makes them all the more unpredictable and deadly. The king has thus far kept his promise not to call on me again, but I am sure he will not ignore me as an asset if his power begins to wane again.

You must be wondering why I chose to remain in Karrnath, and in fact in Korth, so close to Kaius, then. It is a matter of pride, I must admit. Karrnath is my home, and I wish to see matters here improve. Even if I am not actively fighting, I hope my presence can be a positive and stabilizing force. I have been offering my magic, especially my healing, to those in need of it. Also, there is some pragmatism in it. I stay near Kaius, and I shall be in a better position to hear of events which might affect me and my community.

That is the most important reason of all, community. My brothers by blood and by allegiance have chosen to remain in Korth as well. Continuing to see and speak with Andrev, Seven, and Vakaris brings me joy. Andrev has a simpler perspective on the world than I, yet this simplicity leads to honest judgments unmarred by anxiety or prejudice. Seven, despite being forged and part of a strange religion, is the one I can relate most to. And Vakaris, my lost brother, has begun to rekindle that bond of sibling affection which we had lost when I went to war and died. For too long, I had no companionship in this world, and now I have those whom I truly love. I would not leave them, especially not now. Andrev and Vakaris have become close confidants, and they have both expressed romantic affection toward the other. Perhaps they will decide to build this relationship further, and then wish to be joined. I would love to perform the ceremony, if they would allow me. Having these beloved people living so near me allows me to face my grief and step past it.

I have been confronting my emotions more, lately. Andrev encouraged me to go to House Jorasco as he did, but I do not trust some house shrink to go through my thoughts and keep them a secret, even with their oaths of secrecy. Instead, I have been writing, in my scrawl of a hand, and I have been having honest discussions with Vaeren, Andrev, Seven, and Vakaris. I’m telling you this because I know I hurt you in the past, with my stubbornness, anger, and paternalism. I hurt Vaeren too, I know, and Syv. I have truly been an overbearing and damaging force in your lives as I attempted to change you.

I apologize.

I cannot excuse my behavior, but I can work to improve myself. I want to be a kinder, more gentle person. I want to be a stronger person. I want to inspire, not through coercion, but through uplifting others. It has been difficult to confront my shortcomings, and I often fall back into bad habits, but I have true confidants who inform me on my progress and advise continued improvement. I am so glad to have them.

It has not been easy for me to quit adventuring. I keep expecting threats around every corner, and I am unfortunately not always incorrect. I have few skills, other than my capacity for violence. I am trying to learn how to be a person, a real person, like I was before Almante ever went off to war. She used to write, not just letters or journals, but prose, poetry, and philosophy. I have no idea where to start with writing again, but I have started to read. I am currently reading the Analects of War. It seems I am not yet able to leave violence behind.

Sometimes I still think about what I am. I do not know for sure, and that can be frightening. However, I do not think I actually need to know right now. It is enough to just be a person, not a soldier, or a martyr, or a Bone Lord, or an infant god. I have been something for so long but now I just want to be.

I’ve been recalling our time spent together, from the beginning to our parting. You have grown so much since you were a scared but audacious kid who stole my helmet right off my head. I am filled with incredible pride when I remember when you stood in defiance against the formidable Great Icefang, when you reached into my mind to save me from the Bone King, and even when you made your pact with the Killing Cold because you did it to keep us all safe. You burn strong and with brilliant confidence. Your mind is sharp, your tongue is sharper, and I have no doubt that you will defeat all those demonic abominations you have gone to slay. You are also kind, humorous, and lovable, and I have no doubt that you will find new companions in the Mror to fight alongside you, new companions that you’ll protect and who will protect you in turn.

My light, I hope always for your safety. Come home to me soon.

Your boney bastard,

Dagne

[clockworkdragonffxiv]

I started my D&D campaign back in April of 2020 shortly after the COVID Lockdown hit. I was bored out of my skull and stressed, and a friend had expressed his frustration with his own D&D group and I just went "Fuck it."

I hadn't played DnD since college. I had never GM'd a tabletop game. But I had nothing better to do. So I went on to Discord into, like, the three channels I'm active in and rounded up a gaggle of friends from FFXIV and from my old City of Heroes group. For my starter campaign I used the very first Eberron campaign ever published for I think 3e or 3.5e, converted to 5e, "The Forgotten Forge."

And three and a half years, multiple cases of COVID, two rounds of cancer and chemotherapy, four or five moves, three kidney stones, multiple bouts of depression, and a half dozen job changes, we finally finished the campaign at level 16, having convinced the Lord of Blades to devote his talents to building the new Warforged nation and healing the Mournlands using the unique techno-organic warforged plants and animals we'd discovered, instead of his original plan which was to absorb the power of a Creation Engine and a Demon Overlord into himself, achieve apotheosis, and drown the world in a tide of blood.

My original plan for the final battle has in large underlined letters the phrase "Biblically Accurate Chainsaw Angel" and included a speech with lines like "LET THE SEAS BOIL AND THE SKIES FALL! LET THE WORLD BURN!"

Also probably ending up with the players picking the Red, Blue or Green endings from the End-o-Matic 9000.

But that didn't happen.

So instead, the campaign that started with our little group of heroes stumbling onto the murder of a professor with the clues to a hidden workshop, ended with the wedding of Seeker the Warforged Artificer, the man who'd talked the Lord of Blades down (despite having a Charisma of 8) and now holds the title of Maestro Seeker, is an advisor to the national leadership, and is the teacher of a whole new batch of warforged, and the warforged medic Solace, an NPC whose existence began as a joke about Seeker having a whirlwind romance with a medic in the space of about 23 minutes while the rest of the party were running errands.

Hot damn was that a lot of work. Three and a half years, and despite it starting in modules by the second I'd decided I didn't like the story as it was written, threw it out, and told my own story. Featuring friendly little fire elementals named Phil, packs of extremely patriotic and laddish mimics named Jimmy, an eight foot robotic sweetheart named Friend whose primary weapon was an equally massive tower shield and her totally-not-boyfriend warforged druid/allosaurus/swearasaurus Din, a wrestling match with a hobgoblin that nearly turned lethal when an 18 foot tall warforged titan came in with the steel chair, an alligator with a gun, and banishing the elemental dragon powering a flying battleship while A) the team was still on the battleship and B) it was still several hundred feet in the air and C) it was the only thing keeping it there... it's done.

And it was all worth it. God I love these guys. So here's to you, Katie, Jacquie, Mike, Stan, and Will. I'll see you all next week for our next adventure.

[talenlee]

3e: The Halflings of Races of the Wild

There has always been a relentless need for the business of Dungeons & Dragons to publish, to publish, to keep publishing. It is a hungry beast, an endless maw that wants new things, new ideas, new constant iteration and it turns these words into products that you can buy, from season to season, edition to edition. This is a nihilistic and eerie way to be as a game but also, counterpoint to that, it is a wealthy buffet of new books to get to look at and enjoy. Basically, wow, this is a bad way to do things but also the results are kinda fun.

Relentless growth, capitalism bad, you know all this, but this isn’t about the ridiculous way that Dungeons & Dragons gets made. Well, not really, it kind of is but it’s actually about the way that 3rd edition’s love of structured sets of book hash-tag-content filling led to the strange attempt to rebrand Halflings midway through the life of 3.5th edition as one of the Races of the Wild.

Glossary Note: Conventionally, the term used in D&D for this mechanical package is race. This is the typical term, and in most conversations about this game system, the term you’re going to wind up using is race. For backwards compatibility and searchability, I am including this passage here. The term I use for this player option is heritage.

An addendum to that block I use above: This is a book called Races of and it’s part of a series of books called Races of. I’m not about to pretend that’s not its name or the name of the related books from that grouping. I just don’t like using the word for the mechanical package.

As for where Races of the Wild came from, well, it’s a bit of a story and it’s a story we can only look at in hindsight. All of what you’re going to read here is extrapolation from the books that were released, but it is a story that makes a lot of sense when you understand the mechanical systems underneath. It’s entirely possible that this story is just wrong, though, and instead every thing put in these books is the result of someone with a sincere want that this let them express, and they just also were, uh, incoherent and bad at this. The story starts with the release of 3rd edition. It’s out, and it’s time to monetise that audience, meaning we get splatbooks (expansion material) around themes in Dungeons & Dragons. The first ones were based around the things classes did, broad categories of like, sword-doer, god-botherer, actually-powerful and miscellaneous. I’ve written about the Complete Books and their problems, it’s a good article, you should check it out, it’s funny!

Another set we got were the Races of group. There was Races of Eberron, which is its own thing, it can sit over there and just a way to address the four core heritages that set Eberron apart (Warforged, Changelings, Shifters, and the Kalashtar). Then there are three books meant to accommodate the Player’s Handbook heritages, which were, at launch:

Humans, the 0,0 of all race graphs in D&D

Dwarves, like in Lord of the Rings

Elves, like in Lord of the Rings

Gnomes, the annoying humans

Half-Elves, the worst worse humans

Half-Orcs, the better worse humans, and

Halflings, the some of a humans

This is seven heritages, and they were going to be spread across three books which is a great number because you can see it immediately doesn’t work.

The first of those books was Races of Destiny, which focused on the Humans, Half-Elves and Half-Orcs, and that was pretty novel and acceptable because those were all, ultimately, humans and their cover bands. Plus, the half-Elf and half-Orc needed the help, good grief. There was a really broken option for the half-Elf here, but don’t worry, it still wasn’t enough to make them good. In addition to this they threw in an extra humanlike culture, the Illumians, who, oh hey, I’ve written about the one (1) cool thing they can do, too.

Then there’s Races of Stone, which takes the Dwarf as its central point, and then attach them to the Gnomes, who have some of the same underground history. It’s not a strong relationship, but with the 2e culture of the Svirfneblin and gnomes as their relationship to stories of mines and knockers, like, there’s not nothing there. Especially since, as you know, gnomes are made out of plaster. Gnomes are an orphan culture in terms of having an actual identity that doesn’t start from ‘small and annoying,’ though, so it’s always going to have be backfilled. Then, to fill out that book, they gave them the Goliath, a third ‘of stone’ culture that got to do something the other two weren’t. By the way, this means this book gets to represent Critical Role’s headwaters for the worst character (Scanlon) and best (Pike) and also is the first appearance of Grog’s culture (Goliaths), and Grog is… also in Critical Role.

Finally, then there’s Races of the Wild, and you might think this book gets to be easy with the ‘nature’ premise since, y’know, most things are from nature. That’s what nature is. Problem comes if you want the second thing to put in this book, and that’s where the editor doing this divvying then has to look awkwardly at the cultures left in the bin. See, Elves are huge at this point. You can guarantee if you open any sourcebook about any new setting, it has some subtype of elves. Elves have three different variants that are all really good in the Monster Manual! They start with the mechanically decent and overstuffed Elf and then replaces each feature with something that’s not much better but is better, until you wind up with something five steps away from wherever the poor half-Elf has to live. Elves are one of the most unnecessarily beloved cultures of 3rd edition and I feel like it kind of pre-drafted the easiest portion of Races of the Wild. Even just the pantheon of elves had already been given a full formal writeup in the Forgotten Realms sourcebook Faiths and Pantheons.

As far as filling out with a new heritage, that can’t be hard. What’s something that elves don’t do? Oh, have wings and be birds. Easy. We’ve got that, we add in the Raptorans and then we conspicuously avoid mentioning the Avariel. Who are elves. That fly. With their wings. Because they are bird elves.

Alright, with a huge chunk of work pre-written for you with the bit that people would care about, and a new culture that’s just going to take the Avariel and scrub the serial numbers off, what’s the other heritage that needs to fit in this book?

This book got the Halflings. Not like, a prize or a treasure, but like the crumbs of the crisps packet, all shaken to the corner of the bag. They didn’t get to be people of the cities like the stouthearted adventurers were in Races of Destiny. They didn’t get to be people who explored caves and lived in burrows in Races of Stone. They didn’t even get to grow wings and somehow sneak into Races of the Dragon, which can sit in the corner with Races of Eberron. Halflings were declared to be one of the ‘Races of the Wild.’ One of the people with a deep, abiding connection to nature, one of the people who have for some reason, the same kind of status in the forests and woods that Elves do.

Now, I think it’s very silly that Halflings wound up here in the first place but it also gets to be an example of how misbegotten Halflings are as a culture in the first place when the book tries to justify their presence here. See, Halflings travel around. They are always being driven by a want to be on the move. That’s why they have their carts and their performances and their caravans. Halflings are ‘of the wild’ because they are uh, on the highway a lot? They like food and drink. They need to keep moving what with all the stealing they do (wait are we making them caravan-dwelling naturally connected thieves abort abort abort abort).

How then, does this book build out the idea of the ‘Halfling as Race of the Wild’ though? There’s a bunch of flavour, effectively saying ‘here is the life of one Halfling and that Halfling likes nature, so we can extrapolate that out as a normal, please forget everything you know about an extensive history of Halflings as bucolic town dwellers.’ The place this explication gets its teeth in, the thing that has the best chance of anchoring player characters to the idea of a wild heritage is the mechanics.

What are the Halfling mechanics?

Well, there’s a Halfling prestige class here, the Luckstealer. It is a spellcaster who has powers to influence luck. There is no reason for this to be a heritage-locked prestige class, it does not relate to anything innate to Halflings beyond the general vibe that ‘they are lucky,’ but you gotta rack those numbers up. Don’t worry, it’s also trash. There’s also the Whisperknife, which are um, they’re a Halfling-limited prestige class because they, uh. They … they’re small. They’re a melee and ranged throwing weapon Prestige Class that only Halflings can become because… the rule says so. It also gets to be one of many prestige classes of its type that is not meaningfully better than just playing a Rogue, which to be fair is a very well-peopled category in 3rd edition, because a lot of the people making material for the game had no idea how to express power or what was powerful. Still: two prestige classes, one for ‘sneaking and throwing things’ and one for ‘stealing luck.’ Not very wild based, but also, both are very thiefy.

You know, like all the pickpockets you encounter in the woods.

By contrast, Elves get the Champion of Corellon Larethian (basically a woodlands paladin), the Ruathar (which is a class for anyone who really likes Elves), and Wildrunner (which is forgettable, but you know, whatever). They’re all elfy, they relate to elves doing things, and the Elf is already well served by some total nonsense in other books, so whatever. Raptorans get the Skypledged and Stormatlon, two prestige classes about being a cool flying Raptoran with different kinds of abilities, but they’re a new heritage, you don’t want to make any new heritage come with a prestige class so powerful you don’t want to do anything else.

Mixed in with these, by the way, is the Arcane Hierophant, which may be busto but it may not depending on how your DM interprets its requirements. Another wonderful thing of 3.5 editing, the very complicated game sometimes had rules in it that didn’t work. Easily the best thing to do with this book’s prestige class options, because, again, the people making this game didn’t know what ‘powerful’ was, or if they did, they didn’t want to do anything with it that didn’t involve blowing the wizard.

There’s also the Racial Substitution levels, which are ways you can take a member of one class and make it work more appropriately for the heritage you picked. Racial Substition levels are really cool, since they let you refine the way that a class fit with a heritage. Like, Half-Orc Paladins, with their charisma penalty, kind of have to handle Paladinning differently, so how do they work? What’s different? That kinda thing.

For Races of the Wild and their Halfling options, they get the Monk, the Rogue, and the Druid. Now, not to rush through it given the size of this treatment already, but the way a Halfling Rogue is different from an ordinary Rogue is that a Halfling Rogue is worse. Rogues are a great class for 3.5 Halflings to take, because the Rogue has a source of damage that doesn’t care about the size of the Halfling and cares more about hitting – which Halflings are better at because they live in a world of bigger targets. Also, social skills don’t care about how big your ears are, though Hiding does care about how small your whole body is, which means the everything the Rogue wants the Halfling has and nothing they want is missing. Which means if you want to specialise the Rogue as a Halfling, somehow, you probably want to do something that just ditches something a Halfling doesn’t need. Like, say, give up rapier and shortsword proficiencies in exchange for just dagger use, maybe change the skill list up a bit to add some nature skills away from the magical skills. You know, something like that.

Instead the Halfling Rogue Racial Substitution is just the Rogue, but worse. It even takes one of the excellent Rogue abilities and… turns it off. You’re better off not taking that level of Halfling Rogue Racial Substitution.

The Monk, then? This, in Races of the Wild, is a chance to take the Halfling Monk and then root it in the way that a Halfling is a Race of the Wild. Which this book doesn’t do, at all. Oh, it’s a strong mechanical package, that gives a player character something interesting and different to do. Instead of getting flurries of blows the Halfling Monk Racial Substitution Levels (god what a mouthful this is) gets to use Skirmish, and move and hit harder. That means the Halfling Monk suddenly benefits from the Monk’s movement, their increased armour class (to get around attacks of opportunity), and the lower damage dice of the Halfling Monk (because of its tiny, tiny fists) isn’t as important because Skirmish is the majority of your damage, and you can now hit-and-run stun-and-skirmish. You’re still putting out most of the damage of someone full-attacking every turn, but instead you’re much more mobile and more of a controlling force. That’s very cool and it gives an obvious fatnasy for the player to work into when they start to build a character.

What it completely fails to do is express in any way a relationship to nature and the wild, since this is the 3e Monk, which is, well, pretty orientalist and explicitly derived from a western audience’s dad’s memories of a TV show called Kung Fu that may have accidentally included something from actual Eastern Kung Fu mysticism. In much the same way that the iconic Halfling source text depicts them as town-dwelling bucolic nobodies who like to sit in nice cottages and get stoned, Kung Fu monasteries may be in the wilderness but they aren’t integrated with it. They are, in many cases, all about transcending a relationship to nature, because, you know, nature is just an illusion and there’s a greater infinite we’re all part of on the cycle to Samsara, or whatever.

Could have done something cool here, like crow or rat style Kung Fu vibes. Could have twisted ‘Monk’ to be something like a Friar. Could have used this chance to extol the ways that the Monks of the Halfling communities are wanderers and travellers to represent their association with being Of The Wild, but instead…

nope.

They also altered the Druid, to make it so that a Halfling who takes the Druid, and I cannot underscore this enough, is worse. See, druids have this ability, wild shape. If you’re small heritage, the ability to use magic to transform into something larger, like a wolf or a bear, seems to me to be a natural kind of magical effect you would always want. After all, you are able to do that, if you take a druid. If you play a druid, I cannot understate this, if you just take a Halfling, a heritage that has no reason to play a Druid beyond its raw power, and level up as a Druid, you will be a much more powerful melee combatant and a perfectly good spellcaster, and if you take the Halfling substitution levels that are meant to make you ‘a more Halflingy druid’, you become a worse druid. Because the Halfling Druid’s wild shape can’t make itself into larger creatures until level 15, where other Druids get it at level 8.

The thing that drove me to do this, like, the way this article started is I walked into the garage, grabbed a random 3e book I haven’t looked at in a while, pulled it open and flipped to a random page. What I found was the page which explained the origin story of the Halflings, the creation myth of them. This myth was that the Halfling Goddess looked at every one of the other heritages, and found something about them to pull together to make the Halflings. The other Gods, duly annoyed that she had stolen from their handiwork, demanded she give up her thieving ways. She cut out that part of herself, resulting in a secret Halfling god of thieves, that the Halflings also worship and pretend they don’t.

This story is… it’s fine, it’s a mythologising of a self, a new heritage that stands in the cultural space and says ‘well, we don’t have anything of our own, sure, but we just have the best idea from everyone.’ It’s a generalist story, it’s the sort of self-gratifying historiography and mythologising that real cultures do. It’s a fine story. The thing is, the story that explains why Halflings are Halflings and then does nothing to explain why Halflings call themselves Halflings. And with the idea of a goddess who made them being split into two halves, the story drives right up to the window —

— and then doesn’t place an order.

Look, Halflings are hard to concept. It took me listening to one of the best game writers I know to find a way to treat Halflings in Cobrin’Seil in a way that made them make sense to me. They are ultimately a thing that exists in the world from an end point back. You know Halflings exist, you know they’re called Halflings, but things like where they came from or how they exist or what that means, that’s just vague, that’s in the category of ‘I guess.’ They are not people with their own iconography, their own aesthetic, their own value, except as defined by being ‘half’ of a Human.

This book’s attempt to make them into nature-loving wanderers, seemingly because they couldn’t find a better place for them was done in a real half-assed way. Not that the people weren’t trying! They might have been trying! If they were trying, the natural conclusion is they were incompetent, which even if you don’t mean to be, still looks a lot like half an ass.

The Halflings deserve a Whole Ass.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[jbpeony-draws]

character for a Murder at Eberron Express Oneshot.

[lodichi]

Cinders: An Eberron Adventure - A Primer

It is the year 1024 in the world of Eberron, 20 years after the Lord of Blades was defeated by a group of adventurers called The Wayfarers. One scholar who had been traveling with the Wayfarers, a half-dragon named Xarrash, left the continent of Khorvaire to explore the continent of Xen’drik in search of information about their draconic heritage. After discovering a large, crimson arch buried in Xen'drik, Xarrash launched an expedition to discover more about this mysterious "dragon gate" in hopes of finding Argonnessen, the ancient home of the dragons, who have all but disappeared from the land. The Xen'drik expedition is well established by now, and the third wave of airships are leaving from Sharn to arrive in the Xen'drik port of Stormreach. Unfortunately, before they can arrive, the airship the Owlbear is attacked by a group of Sahuagin, as well as a massive tentacled monster, which tore the ship asunder. After frantically scrambling to the lifeboats, six adventurers were swept away by the waves, only to be thrown into the midst of an ancient Draconic Prophecy...

Party below the cut! Character art will be credited as it appears.

The Party

art by PlagueCleric/RollforAlis

Aysel: a human storm Cleric who was, apparently, a pirate before joining the Xen'drik expedition. Upbeat and cocky on the outside, she is also a deeply spiritual person who believe her god, the Storm Lord, sent her to Xen'drik. She also has some hidden anxieties about being trapped or held back. Her Draconic Relic is a blue quarterstaff that crackles with lightning.

Art by puggaccino on discord, with colors by Changeling-Kisser/Al

Brân: a changeling (race currently not known by the party) barblock who wears a massive cloak and large hat over a sparkly bodysuit. They always keep one eye closed, hiding a false eye. They are outwardly stoic with a quiet intensity that shines through in certain moments. Since washing up in Xen'drik, they have been followed by a strange creature in their shadow, who called itself Ffrindllen. Their Draconic Relic is a bronze, double-bladed axe.

art by puggaccino on Discord (sorry Osc do you have more socmed)

Gawain: a goblin Artificer with a number of prosthetic limbs, which are intricately carved to resemble tattoos. She is very cryptic and hard to read, but she has a deep love of tinkering, and will express great (unexpected) enthusiasm when watching people smith or craft. Probably bit all of the party members while on the Owlbear. Her Draconic Relic is a set of solid gold earrings.

art by PlagueCleric/RollforAlis

Haze: a Kalashtar monk from Aundair. He was part of a Kalashtar monastery that followed the Path of Light, a spiritual philosophy of the Kalashtar that promotes the destruction of il-Lashtavar, the Dreaming Dark. He also worked closely with House Jorasco, the halfling dragonmarked house of healing. He is responsible and level-headed, but easily flustered by his party's teasing. His Draconic Relic is a set of ice-laced gauntlets.

art by PlagueCleric/RollforAlis

Harth: a half-elf forge Cleric who used to be a house agent for House Lyrandar, the dragonmarked house of shipping and transportation. She apparently suffered some kind of injury to her eye recently, which has rattled her significantly. She is somewhat shy and meek, but she can be quite forceful when backed into a corner. Her Draconic Relic is an imposing black Quarterstaff with a large red fang on it.

art by Changeling-Kisser/Al

Ishtar: a Minotaur rogue, the daughter of two enemy warlords who fell in love. She is very well-educated and polite, with a love of strategy games like Conqueror. She joined the Xen'drik expedition because she wanted to experience the kind of adventures she read about in her favorite books, a series written by the author Django d’Tharashk, who uh. Never exaggerated anything in his entire life. Her Draconic Relic is a green-scaled lantern.

[kyliafanfiction]

You know, I've heard people make the case that Dark Elves as in D&D-style Drow (and anything drawing from those inspirations)* are somehow racist against black people, that drow represent Black people or... something.

That's always baffled me.

Because when I think of the stereotypes I've seen racists express towards black people, either in the modern day, or in history, what I see are all variations on the following themes: uncivilized barbarians, ape-like, smelly, dirty, criminals, rapists, lazy, stupid. Squatting in ruined cities in jungles, etc.

By contrast, the conventional depictions of Drow/Dark Elves as inspired by D&D are: Sophisticated, cruel, usually matriarchial, sexually transgressive in some form often, sometimes religiously transgressive in settings where they aren't in thrall to a Lolth-expy. Demon-consorting. Some longstanding emnity that explains the split from the regular elves. Evil. Violence based societies that create cycles of abuse. Slavery. Living underground.

(this is not every depiction of dark elves, obviously, Eberron famously stands out, but the convention is the target)

Apart from the loose notion of having dark skin (but Drow-style Dark Elves have coal black, gray, dark purple, dark blue skin, and black people IRL are generally shades of brown - there are exceptions, but not really present in the US conception of black people and every think piece I've seen calling Drow racist has been by and for Americans so...) there's not a lot of overlap between the stereotypes.

I feel like if someone was looking for the stereotype of black people in fantasy settings derived from D&D, orcs by way of conventional D&D is what you're looking for. Orcs are usually smelly, uncivilized, brutish, stupid tribal monsters destroying civilizations. Many settings often gesture in the direction of trying to put a veneer over this, and some actually succeed at portraying orcs as fully realized 3D cultures and people while still keeping them recognizably orcs, but most don't).

Like, people call the Goblins from Harry Potter antisemitic, and they can point to real overlap between the goblins and traditional antisemetic depictions - the noses, the obsession with money, the whole mess in the HP Game that shall not be named, etc). People can and have argued this was - at least at first - more JKR unconsciously engaging with tropes that were longstanding, but even if they're right about the intentions (and these days, JKR doesn't really deserve the benefit of the doubt), the overlap is still there and something that can be pointed to.

Now, yes, there are problems with Drow as often depicted - an ontologically, 'born evil' race like that, etc. And you can actually draw some overlap between the depictions of drow-style dark elves and certain Orientalist tropes, oddly enough, though I think that speaks to more how Orientalism uses tropes that predate it than anything else. YMMV there.

Of course, most variations on those conventional drow-style dark elves usually do, again, make a stab at showing that they aren't ontologically evil, born evil. The cycle of abuse and paranoia and violence and so forth of Dark Elf society is front and center of most versions of them. The influence of cosmic forces of evil on their religion and thus culture. And of course, Dark Elves that aren't evil, ones that were born into different traditions, or consciously made the choice to turn away from that culture they were raised in. There have been missteps, sometimes really honking huge ones (:glares at R.A. Salvatore and his enablers:) but even then, if there's any depth to the depiction of dark elves...

I mean, frankly, for a long time, you were a lot more likely to find a sympathetic dark elf rather than a sympathetic orc, in fantasy fiction.

So yeah. I don't get the 'dark elves as presented by D&D are racist against black people' argument.

*This does mean this post doesn't discuss 'something called a dark elf with brown or tanned or olive skin, etc', unless they share other commonalities with the D&D-style Drow depiction. Dark elf really shouldn't be used to mean 'elf of color' anyway.

[tubbsen]

Didn't think about it at the time but it was pretty self-indulgent of me to make half of my NPCs in this D&D oneshot cool women over 40

[mierolainen]

misc Eberron Express sketches that didn't quite deserve their own post but I kinda like anyway

[sapphim]

I just recently started bg3, and sometimes it makes me feel like I’m playing da origins with all those bizarre pretty mods installed. you also get like all your companions At Once Very Easily and it feels like I don’t know ANY of them whereas dao has some iconic intros and honestly it just makes me want to replay origins lmao (dragon age is the only other crpg I’ve played if it counts?) on the other hand I was playing inquisition right before this and can’t express how nice it is to hear companions talk CONSTANTLY. nobody fucking talks in dai. anyway I just met faerun like 3 days ago but I respect your lack of respect since everybody’s being fantasy racist 2 me

damn that's crazy I guess larian must not have gotten the memo that fantasy racism has been #canceled in hasbro's forgotten realms. aren't the population demographics of baldur's gate like 90% lil freak of nature? my condolences. 😔 eberron solves this problem.

[crewofthegoldrush]

I'm not too far away from posting Monty's family tree, so I feel it would be good to share a bit more about her clan, Runswick, first before I share her family history. This also goes a bit into the night she was exiled and how she feels about it now that she has had almost six years to reflect on it.

Runswick is a completely homebrew town that I sort of just slapped onto the Eberron map willy-nilly, and is specifically built around various quirks that dragonborn have, and the town itself has evolved quite a lot in my head since I first created it two years ago. The quoted sections are pulled i think directly from the PHB (except the one that is a quote from fool's gold lol) - almost all of my headcanons about Monty & all dragonborn come directly from this description.

"To any dragonborn, the clan is more important than life itself. Dragonborn owe their devotion and respect to their clan above all else, even the gods. Each dragonborn’s conduct reflects on the honor of his or her clan, and bringing dishonor to the clan can result in expulsion and exile. Each dragonborn knows his or her station and duties within the clan, and honor demands maintaining the bounds of that position.

A continual drive for self-improvement reflects the self-sufficiency of the race as a whole. Dragonborn value skill and excellence in all endeavors. They hate to fail, and they push themselves to extreme efforts before they give up on something. A dragonborn holds mastery of a particular skill as a lifetime goal. Members of other races who share the same commitment find it easy to earn the respect of a dragonborn.

Though all dragonborn strive to be self-sufficient, they recognize that help is sometimes needed in difficult situations. But the best source for such help is the clan, and when a clan needs help, it turns to another dragonborn clan before seeking aid from other races—or even from the gods."

THE HISTORY OF RUNSWICK

"Each dragonborn knows his or her station and duties within the clan, and honor demands maintaining the bounds of that position."

Runswick is built as a modern (well, in a western parody sort of way) interpretation of what a clan or tribe would look like if it expanded into a cowboy town or small city. It has some unique features not seen in larger Eberron cities, such as the niche "Family" system. The clan is run by six main "groups" that split the town into corresponding districts: Goods & Services, for general wares and items, and the town bank; Labor, includes farming, hunting, mining, and smithing; Entertainment, for theater, arts, hotels, gambling halls and saloons (...and brothels); Religious, for churches, temples and healing; Politics, for the town Elders and other political powers and the only faction that does not have mingling of other races; and Law, law enforcement and the justice system (the courts), and the only role familiar with firearm tech. The dragonborn clan itself has existed for about 400 years.

The history of Runswick states that the original founders of their clan formed roles and duties that best helped the clan survive. As the small clan grew and this desert tribe became a full-fledged town, the roles of the town expanded and developed with it; instead of roles, they came to be known as Families.

All six Families originally had different Draconic names that have since changed as the world became more modern, and the town integrated more and more non-dragonic races & language 

Politics: originally the dragonic word for "law", and was created around the concept of structure, order, and honor

Law: originally the dragonic word for "protection" and was created around the concept of guardianship, peace, and the maintaining of justice 

Religion: originally the dragonic word for "spirituality," and is probably the least changed throughout the years. Religion is, obviously, created around the gods but also healing/medicine

Entertainment: originally the dragonic word for "fun" or "high spirits", created around the concept of folklore and merriment 

Labor + Goods & Services: these two families were originally one role (the dragonic word for "farmland" or "agriculture") until eventually the need to split into two became clear as the world developed; the original role was created for sustainment and trade

Each family has a leader, a high ranking respected member who represents each Family within the council when it comes to political decisions and the like. Monty's parents, Memphys and Belle, are the leaders of the Law and Entertainment Families, respectively. Memphys' role as leader is specifically tied to being Sheriff (The sheriff before Memphys, Sheriff Yang, was leader during his time, and for a few years Monty was too), while Belle's family have led the Entertainment Family for many generations and own (or at least run) basically all of the inns & hotels there, although Belle's saloon is hers only. 

There are individuals in town known as "Elders"; these are dragonborn who are direct descendants to the founding members of the clan, with the oldest among them being held to a high honor. Generally Elders tend to be in the Political Family, even if they served another when younger. 

Dragonborn are the main race in this town but the town is home to almost an equal number of kobold and lizardfolk, as well as a small but growing number of non-reptiles, the number growing especially larger in the last 5 years as Runswick found itself home to many Cyran refuges.

"A dragonborn holds mastery of a particular skill as a lifetime goal. Members of other races who share the same commitment find it easy to earn the respect of a dragonborn."

What Family role you fill has nothing to do with your bloodline, as no person is born into a Family, and each individual is free to choose whatever Family they feel the most affinity and drive for once they come of age. Monty just as easily could have gone Entertainment or Labor as she did Law. It is however common that higher ranking positions in these Families are held by dragonborn, but exceptions definitely happen, such as Sheriff Yang, who was a tiefling. Truly the use of the word Family is more for community/loose translation, as other places would strictly call them districts, or honestly "just a job."

Dragonborn are said to come of age at 15 (to a human's 18), so it is usually between 14 and 17 (or equivalent age for non-dragonfolk) that one will eventually settle into what role or job they are interested in. Generally, the education system stops at age 12 (in that 1800s western america way; remember they're all cowboys) but like anywhere else, there are options to continue your education.

The longevity of this unique but strange system comes from a dragonborn's natural tendency to fully commit to what drives them, as well as the clan's expectations that everyone fills their roles, and the Family system creates a perfect structure for those looking to commit to their skills with the shared likeness of others. (In Runswick they call this connection with like-minded people the Draconic word for "to resonate"). Although non-dragonic races are expected to find a Family, the reality that this simply means finding a job you love and want to excel in makes this an easy enough transition for those of any culture coming to live in Runswick, even if it doesn't come with a shared sense of "affinity."

"Each dragonborn’s conduct reflects on the honor of his or her clan, and bringing dishonor to the clan can result in expulsion and exile."

Probably the hardest thing for any non-dragonborn coming to live in a dragonborn clan to understand is the innate devotion a dragon feels for their clan. Certainly anyone can connect to a devotion to one's culture, but the degree to which dragonborn take this level of pride can lead to some head scratching. Either you get it or you don't.

Nevertheless, this perspective of what is honorable or dishonorable - and again that dragonborn's sense to uphold respect and snuff out disrespect - is very much adhered to in Runswick as it would be for any clan in Eberron. However, generally, to bring such dishonor to a clan that one would be exiled for it would require something with drastic consequences, and especially if those consequences ripple outside of the clan. This is even more true for the generations raised in war, as one's perspective on what is respectful or not, or honorable or not, can be skewed in the face of having to choose between loyalty to your clan or your country. Nevermind in the face of war in general. 

In Runswick banishments are actually rare, and Trials by Combat ("Quick Draws") are even rarer, as it takes a sort of hate and desperation against another that is not typically seen in such community focused clans. Monty had never seen either in her lifetime, until both happened to her.

Despite such a harsh punishment - to leave a dragonborn clanless is to leave them functionally worthless - there actually is no punishment for breaching your exile. To be found trespassing is to be simply publicly walked to the edge of town - possibly after a night in jail - and kicked to the curb once again. However, dragonborn are such proud creatures that shame is a most effective leash - experiencing a life changing humiliation once is more than enough to keep a dragon honorable to their own exile.

However leaving a clan - as in, moving away from Runswick - is normal. Monty's Aunt Arizona, the Yang family, and the O'Malley family are just a few characters who left town but are still considered part of their clan. 

A Clanless Dragonborn 

"Runswick was not just your town - it was your clan, the most important thing to a dragonborn. Five years ago, the Nightbiters harassed your town, resulting in the death of Jebediah, the grandson of a Political Elder. In the fallout, Rell was captured and set to be executed the following day. However, that night he escaped with the help of his mooks - as a parting gift, the fleeing bandits set fire to a hotel, resulting in more death. All under your watch."

I never wrote what happened that night that caused the Nightbiters to be freed - specifically, why was it Monty's fault, or what she did or didn't do that would make it her fault, is not known to me. I know what happened before, and after, but the moment everything went wrong I am not sure. I have a vague idea - it is a very well known fact that she is not the most perceptive - but it really might be the case that Monty just blocked the memory out in shame. Even I am not sure if what happened was truly her fault or not, but regardless it was on her watch, meaning the blame falling onto her is hard to argue. The night itself is specifically designed to be ambiguous as to how fair it is or isn't for her to be banished. 

Either way, Monty does not argue with her original banishment as she firmly believes if her Pa had been sheriff it simply wouldn't have happened, and she accepts the blame of the Nightbiters getting away and not facing justice for what they did to Jeb and the burned hotel. She does however flip-flop on how much blame she accepts for Jeb's death, as she wasn't even there when it happened and couldn't have saved him. But it was on her watch. She has yet to come to terms with her feelings about it and generally avoids thinking about it. 

Monty however, does not agree with her upheld banishment five years later and although her town was thankful and gracious enough to not boot her out this time, she still believes this time she was presented with an act of huge disrespect in the face of what she achieved for them. Her perspective this time around is decidedly "You can't fire me, I quit." This is a very marked difference from the last five years, where before she still considered Runswick her clan - which is why she respectfully upheld not communicating with her family and friends at her own expense, baselessly hoping one day they will change their minds & take her back - but now she does not, and freely reaches out to her parents whenever she wishes. Even if Runswick ever welcomed her back, she is not sure she would return, and I'm not either.

Although she made this choice, it isn't the easiest for her to shoulder. For a very confident person - dragonborn are pretty naturally prideful and arrogant, and Monty is especially both - her self esteem took a horrible hit. To shoulder the trauma of being the worst thing a dragonborn can ever be - dishonorable and alone - is ridiculously difficult to manage.

However where Monty finds her solace and healing is with Tequila, Aubrey, and in her new family. She does, in a way, see the Gold Rush as her new clan (although she still calls herself clanless) and feels immensely protective of them and fears losing them. It doesn't excuse her behavior, but in moments where she is too protective and fearful of losing them to the point of lashing out at any perceived danger or risk, it comes from a place of not wanting to lose anything else.

[cagemasterfantasy]

Changeling Ranking and Features (5e)

Guide

1=do not play this class as this race

2=Can play but not recommended

3=decent choice

4=perfect

Eberron- Rising from the last war

A changeling can shift its face and form with a thought. Many changelings use this gift as a form of artistic and emotional expression, but it’s an invaluable tool for grifters, spies, and others who wish to deceive. This leads many people to treat known changelings with fear and suspicion.

Ability Score Increase. Your Charisma score increases by 2. In addition, one other ability score of your choice increases by 1.

Age. Changelings mature slightly faster than humans but share a similar lifespan — typically a century or less. While a changeling can transform to conceal their age, the effects of aging affect them similarly to humans.

Alignment. Changelings tend toward pragmatic neutrality, and few changelings embrace evil.

Size. In their natural forms, changelings average between 5 to 6 feet in height, with a slender build. Your size is Medium.

Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet.

Shapechanger. As an action, you can change your appearance and your voice. You determine the specifics of the changes, including your coloration, hair length, and sex. You can also adjust your height and weight, but not so much that your size changes. You can make yourself appear as a member of another race, though none of your game statistics change. You can't duplicate the appearance of a creature you've never seen, and you must adopt a form that has the same basic arrangement of limbs that you have. Your clothing and equipment aren't changed by this trait.

You stay in the new form until you use an action to revert to your true form or until you die.

Changeling Instincts. You gain proficiency with two of the following skills of your choice: Deception, Insight, Intimidation, and Persuasion.

Languages. You can speak, read, and write Common and two other languages of your choice.

Mordenkainen Presents: Monsters of the Multiverse

With ever-changing appearances, changelings reside in many societies undetected. Each changeling can supernaturally adopt any face they like. For some changelings, a new face is only a disguise. For other changelings, a new face may reveal an aspect of their soul.

The first changelings in the multiverse appeared in the Feywild, and the wondrous, mutable essence of that plane lingers in changelings today — even in those changelings who have never set foot in the fey realm. Each changeling decides how to use their shape-shifting ability, channeling either the peril or the joy of the Feywild. Sometimes they adopt new forms for the sake of mischief or malice, and other times they don a new identity to right wrongs or delight the downtrodden.

In their true form, changelings appear faded, their features almost devoid of detail. It is rare to see a changeling in that form, for a typical changeling changes their shape the way others might change clothes. A casual shape — one created on the spur of the moment, with no depth or history — is called a mask. A mask can be used to express a mood or to serve a specific purpose and then might never be used again. However, many changelings develop identities that have more depth, crafting whole personas complete with histories and beliefs. A changeling adventurer might have personas for many situations, including negotiation, investigation, and combat.

Personas can be shared by multiple changelings; a community might be home to three healer changelings, with whoever is on duty adopting the persona of Andrea, the gentle physician. Personas can even be passed down through a family, allowing a younger changeling to take advantage of contacts established by the persona’s previous users.

Ability Score Increase. When determining your character’s ability scores, increase one score by 2 and increase a different score by 1, or increase three different scores by 1. You can't raise any of your scores above 20.

Creature Type. You are a Fey.

Size. You are Medium or Small. You choose the size when you select this race.

Speed. Your walking speed is 30 feet.

Changeling Instincts. Thanks to your connection to the fey realm, you gain proficiency with two of the following skills of your choice: Deception, Insight, Intimidation, Performance, or Persuasion.

Shapechanger. As an action, you can change your appearance and your voice. You determine the specifics of the changes, including your coloration, hair length, and sex. You can also adjust your height and weight and can change your size between Medium and Small. You can make yourself appear as a member of another race, though none of your game statistics change. You can’t duplicate the appearance of an individual you’ve never seen, and you must adopt a form that has the same basic arrangement of limbs that you have. Your clothing and equipment aren’t changed by this trait.

You stay in the new form until you use an action to revert to your true form or until you die.

Languages. Your character can speak, read, and write Common and one other language that you and your DM agree is appropriate for the character. The Player’s Handbook offers a list of languages to choose from. The DM is free to modify that list for a campaign.

Eberron Changeling

Artificer 2 you can get the crucial Intelligence increase but nothing else about Changeling complements Artificer’s capabilities

Barbarian 2 same as Artificer except replace Intelligence with Strength

Bard 4 18 Charisma at level 1 2 Face skills and Shapechanger. Thematically perfect for College of Whispers but you can make Changeling work very well for any Bard

Cleric 3 you can get the crucial Wisdom increase and with Changeling’s free additional proficiencies and Cleric’s class skill list you can easily play a Face with minimal investment in Charisma

Druid 2 you can get the crucial Wisdom increase but Druid has nearly no use for Charisma and if you don’t want to be yourself Druid typically turns into an animal rather than turning into another humanoid

Fighter 2 you can get the crucial Strength/Dexterity increase and the Charisma increase and addition skills work great for Purple Dragon Knight but you can get that from Half-Elf. Shapechanger has little use for most Fighters

Monk 1 as in 1 free increase isn’t enough

Paladin 3 +1 to either Strength or Dexterity an increase to Charisma and additional skills so that you don’t need to put every single one of your skills into Face skills. Shapechanger is unusual for Paladins but if you use it more like a fun character quirk than like a tool for tricking people it could be a lot of run

Ranger 2 you can get the crucial Dexterity increase and with the additional skills you can almost keep up with Rogue

Rogue 4 the obvious options for Changelings Rogue is better-suited to tricking people and general skulduggery than any other class. If anyone can capitalize on Shapechanger it’s Rogue. 2 additional skills piles on top of Rogue’s already spectacular advantage with skills and Dexterity and Charisma increases work great for a Face

Sorcerer 4 18 Charisma at level 1

Warlock 4 same as Sorcerer but Mask of Many Faces is partially-redundant with Shapechanger so I recommend avoiding it

Wizard 1 same as Artificer

Mordenkainen Changeling

Artificer 2 Artificers have few capabilities that support Changeling’s subterfuge-heavy capabilities. Perhaps most notable is that Artificer adds double their proficiency bonus with tools which includes the Disguise Kit

Barbarian 1 Barbarians don’t have capabilities that support Changeling’s subterfuge-heavy capabilities

Bard 4 likely Changeling’s best spellcaster option the combination of abundant skills Expertise and Charisma-based spellcaster synergize well with Changeing’s skill options and Shapechanger. College of Whispers feels like a natural choice thematically

Cleric 3 Trickery Domain might work and Changeling’s additional skills help bring you closer to Rogue’s capabilities but you’ll need to balance your need for Dexterity and Charisma with the class’s need for Wisdom

Druid 2 as useful as turning into an animal is when you need to be sneaky that simply isn’t enough. Druids can’t afford the Charisma to make skills like Deception work. They typically need decent Dexterity since Druid’s AC is terrible so at least you can manage Stealth

Fighter 1 same as Barbarian

Monk 2 Monks do well with Stealth but they can’t afford the Charisma to make Deception work so it’s not a great choice for Changeling

Paladin 3 Changeling’s best martial option Paladins have enough Charisma to back up skills like Deception and a Dexterity-based build works fine to support Stealth

Ranger 2 Rangers do well with Stealth but they can’t afford the Charisma to make Deception work so it’s not a great choice for Changeling

Rogue 4 the go-to option for Changelings. Abundant skills and expertise work very well alongside Shapechanger to support any sort of infiltration or other shenanigans that you want to get into

Sorcerer 3 while they don’t have as many skills as Bard Sorcerer is still Charisma-based making it easy to use skills like Deception and with a bit of Dexterity you can easily manage Stealth

Warlock 2 while they don’t have as many skills as Bard Warlock is still Charisma-based making it easy to use skills like Deception and with a bit of Dexterity you can easily manage Stealth. Mask of Many faces is partially redundant with Shapechanger so avoid it

Wizard 1 if you are going to play Wizard cast Disguise Self

[jimbleswrites]

"And then, I found the church."

A/N: This is a backstory for my current D&D character, Judge. They are a warforged paladin, and this is the story of how they started this journey. The only real context is that this is in the eberron setting, and is after the Mourning.

Judge sat in silence. The wind blew through the trees as they sat just off the path of the main entrance to New Cyre. There was a faint background noise as they sat there, people bustling about and moving things around. The camp was still in its early phases, with people resting in temporary tents outside the few buildings in this town. Judge was currently on guard duty, watching the roads into town. There weren't any real threats, just more refugees looking for a place to rest. The war was over, but things would not be back to normal for a long time.

Judge looked down at the axe and shield strapped to his pack. The ax’s blade was sharpened and cleaned, and the wooden shield was recently polished. Judge normally had to clean his weapons regularly, but now they stay strapped to their pack like novelties. These weapons once had a definite purpose, to help Cyre win a war. But now, there was no Cyre. Judge thought back to the mourning as they watched the road. They was a moment of peace as they captured fort zombie, then a mist rolled in from nowhere. It seemed harmless at first, then the magic effects took hold. Some people transformed into creatures, others simply fell over and never got up.

Judge looked into a small puddle next to them, with their reflection staring back. It was the same stern expression they always wore, but the crystals in their eyes were dimmer than they once were. Judge found their new freedom to be boring. With no war, Judge was now without a purpose. Sure, other warforged they had fought with had no issue moving to other work, but Judge found other work to be too mundane. It was busywork that let their mind wander to the purpose they used to have, and made Judge unsure of what the rest of their life would be.

“Excuse me! Is this New Cyre?” The question caught Judge off-guard, with them quickly looking back to the road. There was a group of 4 people, 3 in simple brown robes and one girl in a red hood in front.

“Yes. I apologize for being distracted.” Judge straightened up, their deadpan tone contrasting the bubbly voice she had.

The girl smiled. “No problem, we were just looking to speak with Oargev. Do you know where he normally is?” She bounced in place as she spoke, clearly ready to go.

“There is a city hall just a mile down this street. There are plenty of signs to guide you, should you get lost.” Judge pointed to a cluster of buildings past the farmland.

The girl laughed, which confused Judge. “Ok, thank you!” She exclaimed as she ran by, followed by the other people. Judge wasn’t sure why she had laughed at them, but they shrugged it off. People had always acted a little strange around Judge, maybe because they were a Warforged or maybe because their voice was more impassive than the normal person’s. Judge sat alone with their thoughts, waiting for the guard change as they watched the empty road.

***

The next guard came by after a few hours, letting Judge go back into town. Judge didn’t have any plans for the rest of the day. With no need to drink, eat, or sleep, a lot of time normal people spent fueling and resting was free time for Judge. They decided to go to the local tavern to look over the bounty board again. It was empty this morning, but maybe something came up while Judge was on guard duty. They passed by the various tents and buildings on their way, with people buzzing about. The whole town was in the process of expansion with the new refugees flowing in, so there was always some construction or some new face for people to deal with. Judge worked their way through the bustle, approaching the Second Chance tavern.

It was a small place, just with simple food and drink, but it also currently held a large board for jobs and help. Judge walked through the open door frame, to see the barmaid wiping down the counter and no one else inside. They crossed the dirt floor, approaching the board.

“Don’t bother, no one has come by today.” The barmaid yelled from across the place. She seemed annoyed as she continued to clean. “I swear, you just come in to kick up dirt and take the jobs before anyone else.” She pointed her rag at Judge as she ranted. “You don’t even order anything, you freeloader.”

Judge didn’t consider this to be freeloading, but she had a point. They never ordered anything there, just came for jobs. Maybe this could help them kill time. They approached the bar and sat uncomfortably on the wobbly stool.

“My apologies. Please let me order one drink.” They asked, awkwardly hunched over the bar.

“Didn’t realize you guys ate and drank.” The barmaid scoffed, quickly pouring a pale ale into a tankard and sliding it over. Judge put down some coins, and sipped their drink. It was weak, mostly water but had some bitter aftertaste. Judge quietly sat there, sipping their ale. This just made Judge feel more empty. They sat there for a while until someone sat down at a stool next to them.

“Can I get a drink please?” The voice sounded familiar. Judge looked over to see the same girl from earlier, red hood down as she got her ale. Her blond hair was cut short, barely covering her ears. She sighed, clearly upset with something. She looked over to the hulking construct next to her. “Oh hey! You’re that warforged at the gate!” She said, grinning.

“Yes. My name is Judge. I was on guard duty.” Judge replied.

“I’m Vesperia Song! Nice to officially meet you.” She held out her hand, and Judge shook it gently. “I came in with the other friars, but they didn’t want to see the camp, so I’m exploring it myself!” Her excitement was obvious, even as she grimaced through her drink.

“Friars? Are you part of a church?” Judge asked. Several people of faith had come through New Cyre for reasons of their own, but normally they were older people, looking to set up churches or temples in the new area. This girl seemed much younger than her peers, and more energetic as well.

“Yeah, me and the others are part of the church of the silver flame. We were sent out to tell people about the church and all that.” She looked down into her drink, clearly thinking about something.

Judge pondered this. “This must be an important task to the church. It is a compliment that they would trust you with this mission.” They said, hoping to ease her mind.

“I guess…” Vespira sighed. “Sometimes I feel like… I dunno…” She trailed off, kicking her feet against the stool. “Can I ask you a personal question?” She randomly asked.

Judge nodded. Vespira looked up into their eyes. “Are you religious?”

Judge paused, thinking. “I guess not. I never had to consider it during the war.”

Vespira looked confused. “Never considered it? It never came across your mind?”

“I was a soldier. I was given orders and I followed them. Any free time I had, I trained to be a better fighter. That was my purpose.” Judge explained.

“How about now?” Vespira pushed on, waving down the bartender for another ale.

“I… do not know.” Judge answered honestly.

Vespira smiled as the bartender dropped off 2 more ales. “That’s OK.” She sipped one and slid the other towards Judge. “To be honest, I struggle with my faith too.”

Judge was surprised to hear a friar say this. “But it is your purpose. Why wouldn’t you feel reassured?”

“I guess it’s the difference between us.” Vespira clinked her glass against Judge’s arm, with a metallic thud. “You were built and given a purpose. I was born and had to find one.” She pulled a small stuffed rabbit out from her travel pack. It was a ragged thing, with old worn fabric and dulled buttons. Vespira pointed to several burn marks on it. “When I was really young, My village was attacked by bandits. Everyone was attacked and scattered, and I barely made it out. Just me and my stuffed buddy here.” Vespira pushed the animal into Judge’s arm, leaning it against it. “Eventually I found a traveling caravan, and after a lot of moving around, I found the church. But now, they just send me to wander the world and tell people about the silver flame. I just wonder how much good this really does.” She had slumped down, chin against the bar as she spoke.

Judge looked down at the rabbit against his arm. This woman had clearly been in dire straits, and was looking for some resolve, but Judge wasn’t sure how to reciprocate. He found emotions unwieldy, and was normally very reserved. But Judge did know a little about the church of the silver flame, and he did have an idea.

“Your church has a group of people for dealing with monsters, correct?”

Vespira sighed. “The Templars, yeah.”

“Are you proficient in battle?”

Vespira looked up, confused. “I know some magic, but that’s nothing special.”

Judge nodded. “Maybe a change in your duties would help. I normally found that a new mission brought new challenges to overcome.”

“That seems dangerous. But there is a contract for some monsters nearby we were going to call in.” Vespira perked up, but then got sad again. “But I can’t do it by myself, that’s too much.”

“I will help you with this.” Judge gently put a hand on her shoulder. “Between the two of us, we will complete the contract.” To Judge, this was a win-win. They got a job to slay monsters, and Vespira would see a new experience, which would help her with her struggle.

Vespira smiled. “Alright, we’ll give it a shot.”

***

The night seemed to move by quickly after that, with Vespira and Judge agreeing to meet in the morning. Vespira disappeared to rest up, and Judge took time to clean his weapons and armor. They were both excited to get out there, and the journey was simple. They spoke about the specifics as they walked. There was a group of bandits stealing from merchants moving to and from New Cyre. Those that managed to get away told the local guards that they were using undead to ambush them a few miles up the road. The town wanted to send someone out, but couldn’t spare anyone from the guard. Vespira tuned her fiddle as she talked about her bardic magic, Judge listening intently as they approached the area.

The last attack was at a crossroads, with some sign of the struggle still there. A broken wagon had been dragged off to the side of the road, with nothing left inside. The report from the guard specified that a caravan leaving New Cyre left with a few people, and only one made it back to the town. Judge quickly surveyed the wreckage, looking for trails leading away from the site. There was no obvious evidence, and with the crossroads right there, the footsteps were too plentiful to pinpoint any specific path.

“The area is too well-traveled to track them by footsteps.” Judge said aloud. “Maybe we could comb over the nearby woods.” Judge turned back to sing Vesperia staring at a bird’s nest in a nearby tree. She watched intently as the bluebird hopped along the branch, picking at a bug nearby.

“I bet he knows something.” Vesperia quickly chanted something, moving her hands in a rhythmic fashion, with a flash of magic bouncing between her hands. Judge realized she must be using magic to speak with this animal. Vesperia waved to the bird, grabbing its attention. “Hi! Do you know what happened to the people in this wagon?” The bird chirped back, swinging its head towards the woods nearby. “OK, thanks!” Vesperia turned back to Judge. “They were taken to the woods there, but they didn't see where.”

Judge nodded. “Speak with animals? This will be useful if we encounter more dead-ends.” Judge began to walk forward into the woods, with Vesperia skipping along behind. The forest here was dense with apple trees, and plenty of smaller plants covering the ground.

Vesperia grabbed an apple and began to dig in. “So, do you enjoy hunting monsters?” she said between bites.

“I am very good at fighting.” Judge responded, still focused on looking for a trail to pick up.

“Yeah, you said that already. But do you enjoy it?” She persisted.

Judge stopped for a moment. It was like asking a cauldron if they like making potions, or asking a spellbook if they liked magic. “I was designed for this. Fighting enemies and protecting people are my purpose.” Judge replied. They continued to walk as they continued.

“Come on, I opened up about my fears. I can tell you have more to say.” Vesperia retorted, tossing the apple core to the side.

Judge considered this. Maybe talking with someone could help. “I am not good with emotions. However, you are right. I am afraid of something.” Judge turned back to look at Vesperia’s face. “I worry if I do not have a purpose, I am expendable.” Vesperia looked on with big eyes, waiting for Judge to continue. “My purpose is over. I am not used to making big decisions. That was a job for a general or my superior officer. But now… I am in charge. And I am afraid of making a bad choice.”

Vesperia looked upset, empathic to Judge's struggle. Before she could say anything, voices could be heard in the distance, coming closer. Judge pulled Vesperia behind him, and crouched low into the brush.

A few bodies came out of the trees, showing a figure in a patchwork cloak followed by two undead bodies holding a chest. The figure was speaking into a sending stone, laughing about something. “Alright, I’ll be back in a second.” he laughed, putting the stone away and coming to a stop at a nearby tree. He didn’t seem to notice Judge or Vesperia, and quickly moved a blanket of moss to the side, uncovering a trapdoor. He descended down, followed by the undead servants.

Judge slowly stood up once the people were gone, with Vesperia still behind him. Judge pulled out his ax and shield, ready to follow. He turned to Vesperia, only to see her moving past them to the trapdoor. She pulled the door open, looking down into the tunnel. Judge stood next to her, staring into the unknown. Vesperia nervously pulled out her fiddle, shaking as she did.

Judge looked over as she did, noticing no other weapons on her. “You did not bring a weapon?” he questioned.

“Didn’t think about it until now.” Vesperia stammered, her fiddle making small noises as her shaky hands kept touching it.

Judge pulled out a small tube from their pack, handing it to her. “This is a javelin. Pull the pin here to expand it to full size. While it’s meant for throwing, it will serve as a decent staff if needed.” they explained. They put a hand on her shoulder as she pocketed the javelin. “Do not worry. This is what I was designed for.” Judge took the lead, walking down the stairs, with Vesperia following behind.

The tunnel was decently lit, with lanterns on wooden supports lining the small hall. The two followed the path for a short while, eventually finding an open area with the person from earlier. Judge stayed out of view, holding Vesperia behind them, listening to their conversation.

“You only got one chest? We ain’t gonna have enough for the boss!” A human holding a crossbow was arguing with the cloaked figure they had seen earlier.

“We’ll get enough, I just have to grab the next poor sap who comes by and shake em down.” The cloaked figure removed their hood, revealing a half-elf with burns across his face. He pointed to a large pile of chests and various stolen items, surrounded by four undead servants. The two continued to argue about what to do, as Judge turned to Vesperia.

“I can take a head-on approach to these bandits, but you are not a fighter. Perhaps you can stay back and provide ranged support.” Judge offered.

“Yeah, I know some spells to help, but I'll need to play my fiddle to focus.” Vesperia took a deep breath and began to play, an energetic song that filled the cave. The six foes in the cave began to glow with a violet outline, with them confused at the blinding lights and song that surrounded them.

Judge walked around from the corner, brandishing their ax.”This is your warning. Surrender now, and no one is hurt.” they announced. The two figures quickly dove away, with the undead running forward. The song continued as Judge began their assault, cleaving into the undead. The zombies swung wildly at Judge, but to no avail. Judge was in their element, blocking the swings with his shield and swinging back with the ax. The first undead fell, cut in half as Judge shoved back another with their shield. The second collapsed into shambles after being shoved into a wall. Judge slammed their ax into the head of the third undead, swinging it into the fourth, dealing with both in one move. Judge then turned to the bandits, only to be hit with a black beam of enervating energy. The half-elf had shot a ray of enfeeblement, sapping away Judge’s strength.

“You’re kidding me, who sent the living weapon for a couple of bandits like us?” He screamed, trying to put more distance between himself and Judge. Judge felt weaker, but was still able to fight. They moved closer to the wizard, swinging their ax and missing. The half-elf used this miss to summon necromantic magic into their hand, pushing it directly into Judge’s chest. Judge yelled as this magic wracked through their body, inflicting wounds all over their body. Judge kneeled over, feeling close to passing out.

The half-elf smirked as he walked past the warforged. “Guess I overreacted. Just a hunk of metal after all.” Judge tried to stand but found his strength sapped.

“Look who else I found.” The other foe, the human, had disappeared in the struggle and found Vesperia, now holding her at bowpoint. Vesperia struggled, trying to escape. Judge felt despair as they watched Vesperia being hurt by their actions.

“Perfect, we can ransom her off for the rest of the money we need.” The half-elf laughed as he pulled out a small dagger.

Judge wobbled, then stood up shakily. “Your fight is with me. You leave her alone.”

“No, I think you’ll leave us alone. Or else your little friend here is hurt.” He pointed the dagger at Vesperia.

“You think that will stop them?” Vesperia stammered. She was fumbling in her belt as she spoke. “We are Templars of the Silver Flame, and we will always fight evil.” Judge felt inspired, and felt a presence of something, as their armor began to smoke, a silvery mist emitting from the metals that protected them. Judge realized this was the power of the silver flame itself, and felt reinvigorated.

Out of instinct, Judge pointed to the wizard. “Approach.” Judge commanded, magic flowing from their voice. The half-elf walked forward, fighting his own body as he approached the warforged. Vesperia took the opportunity to surprise the human holding her, unfurling the javelin and stabbing it into his foot, breaking herself free. He tried to grab her again, only to meet the other end of the javelin as she slammed it into his face.

The wizard finally stopped taking steps, only to be face to face to Judge. The warforged was like a wall of metal and armor, smoking with a silvery mist, staring down on him with yellowed crystal eyes.

“You will surrender now, or I will end this.” Judge stated. It was a simple demand, but effective.

“Alright, you win.” The half-elf conceited. “I surrender.”

***

The journey back was simple after the encounter. Judge and Vesperia led the criminals back to New Cyre, and handed them off to the guards. Vesperia told the other friars what had happened, and they were happy that the threat was dealt with. They were leaving soon for another settlement nearby, and it was time for things to continue onward. Judge decided to see them off, and wanted to speak to Vesperia one last time.

“Vesperia, I wanted to thank you for letting me help with this contract. I hope you also got some sense of purpose from this.” Judge bowed his head in gratitude.

“Maybe not the way I thought though…” Vesperia responded. “I’m no fighter, but I appreciate learning first-hand how dangerous things can get.” She held out the javelin. “But what will you do now?”

Judge closed her hand. “Keep the javelin. I have decided to travel to the church of the silver flame and learn more about becoming a templar. This seems to be a good fit for me.”

Vesperia smiled. “I think that’s a great idea.” She began to turn, then quickly grabbed something out of her pack and tossed it to Judge. Judge caught it, and found it to be the stuffed rabbit that Vesperia had showed them earlier.

“Why are you giving this to me?” Judge tried to hand it back, only for Vesperia to close their hand.

“A reminder. It will give you bravery when you need it, and I don't need it anymore. I’m not afraid of anything if you’re out there fighting evil.” Vesperia smiled.

Judge nodded. “Then this will be my oath.” Judge held the rabbit to their chest as they spoke. “I vow to fight evil, by any means necessary, and help those affected by their evil misdeeds.”

Vesperia was grinning ear-to-ear. “Then when we meet again, I want to hear all the stories of evil you’ve stopped and people you’ve helped.” The wagon began to pull away, and Vesperia waved as they moved on to another village in need. Judge waved, then attached the rabbit to their pack. They turned to the other trail, ready to go. Flamekeep was a long walk from here, and who knows what would be on the horizon?