#i got into 5e when it first came out i Know its good

[necrowtic]

genuinely you shouldnt be allowed to have opinions on ttrpgs unless youve played anything other than dnd 5e also you should be put to death immediately

[rogue-of-broken-time]

Spill the DnD characters, Rogue! (I'll be in bed when you answer most likely, but still!)

I have a lot of them, so I'll share the one that's taking up most of my brainspace right now:

*cracks knuckles*

Mini the Autognome

(pronouns they/them)

Mini is an autognome bard! For anyone who doesn't know what an autognome is, it's a bit like a warforged, but they're small and were actually created by rock gnome tinkerers (the official publication of the race for D&D 5e came with the Spelljammer: Adventures in Space set). In modern-day terms, they're essentially a robotic construct. As such, Mini doesn't actually play an "instrument" in the typical sense– they have an internal music box they use to play their magical tunes!

As I play them now, Mini (which was originally short for "Minstrel") is a happy-go-lucky little bot with a lot of love to share and a deep misunderstanding of how the world actually works. To them, everyone should just get along and be happy, and they genuinely don't understand why anyone would prevent that from happening. And with their limited comprehension of the way the world works, you'd probably wonder how they came to be in the first place, right? Surely their creator must've been just as cheerful, right?

The truth is that the people who invented Mini in the first place had much darker intentions (or at least, one of them did).

Mini's story begins with two rock gnomes: Alston Silverthread (artificer) and Callen Dazzledark (wizard).

The two of them, back in their younger days, came up with an idea:

What if there existed technology that could make someone immortal?

It was a wild concept to them, just wild enough to grab them both and put their heads together. Alston, master tinkerer, got to work on schematics and functionality, while Callen, secretive necromancer, researched tirelessly to see if such magic would even be possible.

Together, they came up with a name for their little project: the Metallurgic Immortality Network Services To Realistically Extend Lifespans, which they later gave the nickname "Project MINSTREL".

The first invention under Project MINSTREL was the Metallurgic Immortality Network Interface, an automaton-like device that was designed for one purpose and one purpose only: healing. Whatever your ailment, whatever your injury– whether it was a common cold, a wound on your body, or even just the frailty of old age– this thing could fix you with its magic. And if you kept using it, it could literally keep you alive for longer than your race's typical lifespan, essentially making you immortal until a time of your choosing.

This would've been considered nothing short of miraculous technology, if Alston and Callen hadn't had to keep it a secret. Where they lived, most magical practice was frowned upon at best, so any hint that they were making such innovations beyond the eyes of the law would risk everything for them.

At the beginning, Alston was more than happy to play guinea-pig to his newest creation, the prototype MINI. He had to be sure that the technology worked, after all– and for a time, that's exactly what he did (all the time he'd spend testing on himself effectively extended his life by a good handful of years in gnome standards).

But as time went by, Callen kept coming back to him with darker and darker ideas for additions to their inventions and research. Alston repeatedly turned him down, and the two eventually split off from one another due to disagreements on their morals. Alston kept the MINI, but without Callen's help maintaining it for its original purpose, it eventually fell to disuse.

Callen, on the other hand, grew mad with curiosity. All this time, all this research he'd poured into necromantic energy and preserving souls from death– why should he have to give it all up?

In response to Alston's rejection, Callen only became more driven. He'd plot out theories and calculations of how to extract souls from life and contain them in other things, reinvigorating his own life energy in the process. And eventually, because of his cruel experiments, Project MINSTREL was dissolved and the two largely fell out of contact, save for matters of extreme importance.

Flash forward some odd years in gnome standards. Alston is an old man now, even having had the continuous treatment of the MINI back in the day. He's having regrets about what he'd spent his life doing, and somehow, some way, he seeks to do something to make up for it all.

In the end, Alston knew he couldn't be saved; he'd done too much bad and too little good in his life to merit that. All the dark experimentation, all the secrecy, the dangerousness of it all– no, it was too late to redeem himself now.

But as he was nearing the end of his life and his eyes drifted over to an old automaton he'd once made with someone he once considered a friend… he realized, with what little time he had left, he could save something else.

In his final weeks, he worked tirelessly as he never had before, reconstructing the MINI for a new purpose: entertainment. He never took out the healer programming entirely, but he adjusted the MINI's prime directive slightly and designed them to be able to make their own choices and have their own personality, striving to make them completely autonomous in their own right.

And yet, when death edged closer and closer to him by the day, something was missing.

In the time the MINI shared with Alston, he was never able to get them to "wake up", so to speak. They were never able to override the base programming they had to obey whoever told them to.

So, after a long deliberation, Alston made one final reach to Callen, asking for one single favor: to erase the MINI's memory of their creators entirely after he passed on, in the hopes that they'd make their own life someday without the burden of grief.

Callen was more than happy to oblige, and, once he heard the details, he got an idea.

An utterly fascinating, horrible idea.

As Alston lay on his deathbed, Callen prepared to do his bidding. He was to use the spell Modify Memory on the MINI before it reactivated from its slumber, locking any knowledge of its creators behind a secret failsafe in its programming that even it wasn't aware of. This, Callen could do.

It was as Alston was drawing his final breath that he put his real plan into action.

Just as Alston was fading from life, Callen cast True Polymorph on his old friend, transforming him just before his spirit had the chance to depart.

All of the years Callen had spent researching necromancy, he'd tried, and thus far failed, to do what he successfully did to Alston. His theories and calculations– all were in an attempt to see if he could preserve one's soul by transmuting it into an object, just before departure. And all his experiments until now were failures, because he couldn't get the timing exactly right to capture the raw life essence before it was gone for good.

Alston was his first true success, and that was all the proof he needed to see that his vision had always been correct.

Because laying before him on the bed was not Alston Silverthread's elderly body, but a single leather-bound book.

And on that book's first page was this:

The rest of the pages were blank.

And Callen could find no better purpose for this tome than to give it to the very being whose message it was meant for.

So, deep within the MINI's chest compartment, he locked it away. And then he modified the automaton's memory, and then, well, he left.

…

A little while later, Mini woke up for the first time, a little confused but otherwise feeling more alive and themselves than they'd ever remembered feeling before.

And what did they do with this newfound autonomous feeling?

They went on an adventure.

[thewolfruns]

@missmvrder; neve & ?? from this

the hard part about travel nursing was finding good housing. the dirty looks from the staff nurses weren't as numerous once she got settled. the loneliness on the road suited neve just fine and, anyway, she had robocop. the husky was a pain in her ass on a bad day, but overall good company. and people thought he looked intimidating even though he was all love.

neve was no stranger to bad neighborhoods, but she knew being a stranger in one changed the game. she'd lived in southeast portland her whole life. people didn't fuck with her there even before gentrification started spreading through it like the a sickness. but this new city wasn't her home and she wasn't known for taking care of its people, so when she clocked the situation she was in at the pay-by-the-month complex, she made sure to keep to herself.

she didn't make connections with her neighbors, but she made sure not to avoid eye contact with them either. no, she made sure to get a good look at the people near her. she played an old favorite, too. the guess my comorbidities game, where she'd speculate what was wrong with them. the lady in 5E? people thought she was pregnant, but the girl had cirrhosis bad and needed to get tapped. the super? well, he was on blood thinners and needed to stop falling off the goddamn ladder. the guy next door? she didn't know, but he sure came home with a lot of black eyes. so when some woman showed up on her doorstep that said she was his mom and seemed a little worried, neve broke her own rules. and, honestly, they had a great time.

cracking open a beer, she was settling in for the night when she noticed the woman had left her sweater behind. she'd have to figure that out tomorrow. until there was a knock on her door. popping up, she grabbed the sweater. there was no other reason for someone to be at her door than the woman. swinging open the door, she cursed herself for not checking the peephole first.

"oh, uh--hey." she said, chiding herself for the awkward greeting. she'd just spent two hours with this guy's mom and somehow that made her feel weirder about talking to him. "i feel like this is a weird setup for a your mom joke, which i hate to miss out on, but--" he kinda looked like he'd punch her in the face for making one. "--uh, anyway, i think your mom left this here when she was looking for you. did she get in touch? she seemed worried."

[archfeyworkshop]

Let's start with worldbuilding rambling, shall we? Above is the world of Arturium, what is ultimately a five-year project that has gone through...three and a bit iterations and two editions of gaming. So let's summarise quickly:

When I started GMing for TTRPGs, I made the big mistake of making a whole world from scratch for three weeks and ended up absolutely in over my head. I was a worse storyteller and world designer, and I don't think I even have the original map, made in Hexographer, anymore. At the time it was so much simpler too - the pantheon was pulled wholesale from Eberron despite knowing nothing about it, I had more cities in some places and fewer in others. For the time it wasn't bad but...it wasn't a world exactly. More a caricature.

The next iteration made some big changes. I laid out much clearer overviews of each nation, and threw out a lot of the Eberron gods in favour of my own. I kept one or two that I appreciated, but the new pantheon still kept the dual-domain style of the old pantheon, and a couple of higher powers like Asmodeus and Mephistopheles remained even today. The Hells just don't feel the same without them. That was the first glam-up on the map too.

I had a drawing program, go figure. It looked better than the original but was essentially a redraw, and continued with the geographical issue of me not being very aware of how terrain formed. But it was mine. And was still...pretty empty. It was made during my first campaign which ended up running for three years, which ended up taking place over two continents and a lot of lore that was ultimately altered but not quite abandoned.

This most recent iteration and a bit has been the most substantial and worthwhile one. The pantheon got properly cleaned up with the last of the remnant gods being remade into entirely personalised ones, and resulted in the map above. Between iterations I had picked up bits and pieces about how terrain was loosely shaped, and that resulted in the remade mountain ranges and rivers. National borders became properly contained by natural terrain and we got some actual islands. It was the biggest change that took the world into feeling like proper terrain, breaking things up like landmasses that have drifted.

At this point all the nations got fuller updates on their individual cities with a paragraph for each, and a more complex interaction with the world around them. A topic for another post, perhaps. Keeping things at a macro level for now though...a number of species got reworked or renamed, or cut out entirely as I decided they weren't doing anything in the setting ecology. The Crayshaw Mountains got renamed to Agryphida, and then mysteriously disappeared from the earliest ages of the world...but that's its own story. Oh nine, there's the entire reworking of the timeline getting shorter and shorter too...welp, there's going to be a lot to talk about, much of it that will never make it into campaigns, so here's as good a place as any.

That's the final thing I'll talk about for this start post, I reckon. When I started my setting it was a D&D 5e setting. Now, thanks to my own system preferences, it's been adjusted to Pathfinder 1e. But I mean, with all the holes in 5e...that wasn't too difficult. It did force me to assign proper mechanical domains and alignments to the gods.

But I'm writing this quite late at night. A world has a lot of stuff you can do with it and plenty I want to talk about. Hell, there's plenty to do with a breakdown of each nation, the history I'm still writing, how the species interact. There's an entire dissertation I could write about how the northern nations on Almahd came out of one bit of art of a Lamia in a crop top...

So I'll leave you with that. The promise of much worldbuilding rambling and character design in the future. Probably tall and wide.

[clockworklozenges]

So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.

[palidoozy-art]

The more I think about your recent post about the changes you made to Strahd, the more I wonder about those changes you made to the others mentioned (Rahadin, Van Richten, Ireena, etc). I'd absolutely love to hear what adjustments you made as you already shared some stellar ideas already. Like the Tome? -Chef kiss- Amazing.

Oh mannn I do love talking about my campaign. I changed a lot with them. Again, weirdly enough, I think Strahd wound up being the most like his original incarnation. I could talk forever about the changes I made so I'll try to be brief haha. IT STILL WON'T BE BRIEF.

Obvious CoS spoilers below

IREENA - I thought it was weird that the picture they gave her makes her look like such a badass, and then the module just kind of writes her as a damsel in distress to either get kidnapped or pulled into water or dumped somewhere. To me, she's like, the second most important character in CoS -- and the book literally gives you less direction to roleplay her than her brother. Furthermore, reading her ending actually legit made me mad.

So I said fuck all that. Ireena in my game was a 19-year old girl who grew and developed over the course of the campaign. Several of my players actually said they thought of her as "the main character," just because she experienced a lot of character growth and development, going from a sheltered meek teenager to someone who can fight and assert herself. The biggest change I made to her though was that I very specifically did not just want her to be "Tatyana with memory loss." Ireena is a unique individual who happens to be partially made out of Tatyana's soul. While she shares many similarities with Tatyana, they're separate people, and part of what Ireena has to grapple with is how to live up to that. She's in the post-campaign because of that distinction -- while Sergei offered her to join him, she declined, because she wants to experience life past her twenties. I didn't get to play it out because we were kind of rushing towards the end, but I honestly envisioned a scene where she talks to the portrait of Tatyana, apologizing to her because she knows she's being selfish remaining alive.

This also brings up a unique problem in the post campaign. If Ireena dies, she ceases to exist and may not be able to be resurrected. When her soul leaves her body, it's Tatyana's again. Ireena very much wants to live. Tatyana doesn't. A resurrection has to be made with the consent of the soul, and if Tatyana declines, Ireena's just... gone. Forever.

Related: because I wasn't sure what my players would ask, and Rahadin would absolutely know this information -- there have been 18 incarnations of Tatyana, including the original. I actually have a timeline of when they were all born and how they died. The curse manifests in that they always die or are killed before their 25th birthday. If Strahd attempts to marry them, they lose their minds and throw themselves off of the same balcony the original Tatyana jumped off of during the ceremony. Strahd can never have Tatyana. Vampyr will ensure of that.

But yeah, essentially: Ireena gained actual class levels; she wasn't just Tatyana with memory loss; she traveled with the party for 90% of the campaign and wasn't just a macguffin to be kidnapped/take to places; and I removed any of the "Sergei takes her into water/the sky and you never see her again" endings because I absolutely hated those.

VAN RICHTEN - Van Richten I tweaked a lot from his original incarnation. First, I started him off as Lawful Neutral. No, game, I know you tell me he's Lawful Good, but I'm gonna have to disagree with you that "training a racist tiger to genocide an ethnic camp" falls under the spectrum of Lawful Good. Second, I changed him from cleric to artificer (alchemist). I somehow just got the impression the dude was a godless man, and so he felt more fitting to be a man of science rather than a man of the church. Third, since I wasn't sure the other dread domains were ever going to be brought into 5e I moved him out of Darkon and into another world from the outside.

His backstory was also tied more into Strahd and the campaign in general, as well as the Dark Powers. About 30 years ago, he went into the mists with his own adventuring party (that included Escher) to try to rescue his kidnapped son, Erasmus. He found his son half-turned and begging him for death. Killing him, Van Richten hunted down the Vistani woman (Ezmerelda's mother) who sold the man, and in a rage strangled her to death. This gave him a curse. Ezmerelda witnessed it happen.

He went on a warpath against vampire spawn and vistani alike, until Strahd proposed a deal to Escher. Escher lured the group to a familiar dinner date with Strahd... only for Strahd to murder all of them, including Van Richten. Van Richten was approached by a dark power -- Vaund the Evasive, and given the option to return to life in exchange for the promise that Van Richten would eventually return to Amber Temple and free him. He took it, waking up outside of Barovia. From there he became famed vampire-hunter-book-author, until in his early 50's he decided it was time to seek vengeance and fulfill his promise. He brought in his hat of disguise, came up with an alibi, and headed into Barovia as Rictavio the Great.

He was absolutely played as a much more morally grey character at the start (the party's first encounter with him rather than Rictavio was him literally torturing a dude). He softened over the course of the campaign as he grew attached to the party, until finally reaching a point in the post-campaign where he's considered Lawful Good

Also: Ezmerelda was treated more or less as his adoptive daughter. She absolutely argued against this every single time, but he even slipped up and referred to her as his daughter on a few tense occasions.

RAHADIN - Rahadin I adjusted a lot, too. A LOOOOOOT. Strahd being comically evil makes sense -- the dude is a darklord, that kind of comes with the territory. With Rahadin, I wanted him to have more motivations to his actions, because the base game actually suggests that the dude is actually capable of caring. In the base game, you can find him at Amber Temple, trying to "petition the dark god into releasing his master from his torment." He screams in grief if he finds Strahd dead. Furthermore it felt like the game glosses over the fact that the dude was adopted as Barov's son. It doesn't bother addressing how Rahadin felt about Sergei, who would in theory be his other brother. I thought a number of things suggested in his backstory were interesting, but not expanded upon in the base game. So I took it upon myself to do so.

I changed how dusk elf society was built, which affected the three major dusk elf characters. It worked off of a pretty brutal caste system, with three kings at the top overseeing all of it. Rahadin was born in a lower caste, but actually brought into the warrior caste after a member of royalty was intrigued by his stature. Rahadin worked as a general, but grew frustrated by the inefficiencies of the caste system and its inequality. He started attempting to use his influence to petition other members of nobility into changing or loosening the strict system.

Patrina caught wind of this, and viewing it as a threat to her lifestyle + viewing it as an easy way to gain brownie points with those above her... tattled on him to the three kings, spinning what he was doing as treason. Rahadin was arrested and subsequently tortured. They attempted to execute him on a breaking wheel, breaking his bones against the spokes and leaving him in the town square as an example. He wound up escaping, crawling his way out of town until he was subsequently rescued by a group of human monks. The event pretty much broke him, morally. He went to Barov soon after and sold his people out, taking a personal hand in helping annihilate the dusk elves and conquering their land. Barov was so impressed by the man's loyalty that he adopted him as his son.

Part of this was done to make a connection as to why the hell Rahadin just absolutely fuckin' hates Patrina so much (since that definitely got played up during the campaign). When thinking of Rahadin's motivations, I tried to come at it from the angle that this man was evil... but legitimately cared deeply about Strahd, Sergei, and Tatyana. He was devestated from the events of the wedding, but saw Strahd's return as a second chance. As the lone surviving witness from the wedding, he desperately wanted to help the three of them. But his own blind loyalty to Strahd and his broken moral compass prevented him from doing so.

One of my favorite little additions was a sidequest I offered to the players (they wanted to redeem Rahadin). They were requested by him to retrieve (well, "not destroy or sell") one of his most precious belongings in his office. When they get there... it turns out it's a birthday card and a worn-out old amulet from Sergei and Tatyana that he's kept after all these years. They got Ireena to read the letter to him, to help him keep going after Strahd's death.

anyway i could ramble on about changes forever but i don't want this post to get too long haha. i have. many feelings. over this campaign. maybe at some point I'll do a separate post with some of the others.

i also kinda wanna do a comic of an event from Rahadin's backstory for my players but we'll see, I might deem it "too stupid."

[paint-lady]

hey, if you don't mind, i want your advice: i'm going to be running a chronicle set in chicago (i am using the chicago by night 5e book) for players who are new to vampire for the most part in a few days and i can't For The Life of Me to come up with an interesting chronicle hook (yeah i have read the hooks in the book). any ideas/suggestions/general advice?

Hiya! I could talk your ears off on how I write my chronicles- so hopefully I have taken all my processes and reduced it down to a lovely World of Darkness jam. 

Here are two good hooks I just came up with- feel free to use them! The third is what I got for my first chronicle, and I just think its a narrative that works very well for new players.

>Option 1: Guilty Until Proven Innocent ”Chicago is a series of paradoxes and transitions, of ever changing paradigms and whimsy,” (CbN 47). Have your coterie be newbies to the city. Ask why they have come to Chicago. Power? A new start? Perhaps this is a political arrangement between the clan of one city with another. Whatever their reason, they have arrived right when a Primogen vanishes- and guess who is first on the suspect list? The fresh faces on the streets >:) The coterie, having barely settled, has to suddenly prove their innocence. And finding evidence lets them uncover something much more sinister....

This one is ideal for new players as it sets everyone on an equal footing. Even if they create a character that has been a vampire for 50+ years and has amassed several dots of influence, herd, status- whatever, they are still new to the city. And being new means you have to start all over again. (This may be frustrating to a player that invested all those points at character creation- but it is on you as the ST to make sure they have opportunities to use those dots and on them as a player to think cleverly.)

Starting the tale off with defending their innocence is actually a very engaging questline. It effectively sets the stage for the political powerhouses. It lets new players know there are rules- and those in power are watching. It also sets the consequences for failure. Understand that the Camarilla probably isnt going to outright kill the coterie if they fail- always make the punishment just harsh and grueling enough to make final death feel like a mercy. Failure isn’t the end of the story.

For new players- I would be lenient with the time it takes for them to find evidence. But within reason. Think like your Prince and Seneschal. Do you really want this coterie running around for a full week, unsupervised, making more messes? No. You don’t. (You might wanna send an npc with them to watch and keep em out of trouble. Your npc is also able to vouch for them.)

This story lends itself to be a Camarilla Chronicle very easily. You can go Anarch, but an Anarch leader suddenly vanishing and blaming the newbies is much more quickly going to end with blood spilled. Thank your local sweeper.

> Option 2: Containment Breach Blacksite 24 (Loresheet on page 264) was temporarily occupied by Operation Firstlight. It has now been transformed into a medical research facility. While most kindred of Chicago know of Blacksite 24, they have zero clue what happens inside other than bad news for them- the less they know the safer they are. The chronicle opens with a car crash. The captured soon-to-be coterie was in transit to this feared medical facility. The crash did kill the driver and the agent in charge of transporting them. The crash did not fully break their restraints, but it did enough damage that first responders are freaking out. They are all at hunger 3. The chronicle is a hunt. The coterie should have some knowledge of what had happened to them and how lucky they are to have escaped. Operatives are already on their way to recapture them. They must hide in this city- and do their best to survive and stay out of sight.

The point of this story is to invoke dread. I highly recommend one player either being a thin-blood (or an npc) with the Daydrinker merit, or a player to have a ghoul. If they decide to not have a daywatch, they increase their chance of being found.

This story also sets up a feeling of desperation. They would be willing to take shelter from anyone- anyone. Eventually the other kindred will catch on that these guys are on the run from something. Any sane kindred would toss them out to protect themselves. A compassionate kindred who takes them in will suffer the final death as a compassionate fool- or join them in captivity. 

This story lends itself to be an Anarch Chronicle much more easily. This is the time the Camarilla will likely be a bit more paranoid and bloody. While they might not outright kill the coterie- they will send them somewhere that is a death trap. They wont dirty their hands with this. After all, you do not want any evidence to fall into the hands of the SI if you hired the hit.

This story is ideal for newbies without background merits. No allies, no influence, no herd. Let them take more mythic merits such as bloodhound and unbondable (Consider finding some from V20 too! There are some really awesome supernatural merits!). These powers would certainly be more fascinating for a medical team to study- not how many instagram followers they have. This kind of story also lets your players feel more powerful- but out of the loop. It lends itself to them forging alliances and getting caught in one-sided favors a lot more quickly. 

The challenging aspect of this story is that is starts with a masquerade breach. New players may not know how to handle such a blatant breach and thats okay. I would let the crash slide- and the Camarilla in the background handles it. Breaches after the crash need to be handled with proper consequences. 

> Option 3: New Blood This is what my storyteller did to me and my first time players (and its also very close to the plot of CoNY). We were shovelheads. Embraced to make a huge mess for the Camarilla and die quick deaths. We were all thin-bloods. The last thing the pcs remember is the sweet rush of ecstasy washing over them, before clawing out of the earth and driven mad by an insatiable hunger. The thrill of the hunt, and the sweet, warm blood on their tongue, nothing was going to be better. All three will awake next to each other, surrounded by the corpses they drank dry in their frenzy. What a way to play the name game! The players have three nights were they figure out their new condition or coverup their tracks (if they think to do it). They contend with their hunger and hatred of sunlight, wrestle with accidentally drinking their family member dry. After three nights, the Scourge comes knocking. Rather than outright killed, they are dragged to Elysium. For some reason, they are adopted by an upstanding member of the Camarilla- or the Prince orders a political rival care for them (hoping they fail). The players are the errand childer of this kindred, and slowly they figure out what they have been gathering through all these errands....

This one lets the characters all have the moments where they discover their disciplines and powers- and bestial tendencies. It naturally flows to allow players to slowly discover the rules and mechanics as well. All players must play fledglings for this tale. 

This story is much more a personal tale than a political one. Eventually politics makes its way in...but it does not have to be a focus. 

This story has less of a hook and more of a “Figure it Out” survival mode until the errands begin. The story is how the character’s react to their condition. It very quickly lends itself to a narrative of finding your own path in the night, rather than mindlessly obeying.

So here are a few questions that I ask myself when crafting a chronicle story:

1. What kind of story do you want to tell? Not asking for a plot hook, I’m asking for a general concept. Is it a tale of good triumphing over evil? (Not necessarily a wrong answer, but if you wanna play good guys...vampire is not the best game for that). Is this a chase? Is this a race against time? 

2. How do you want your story to make your players feel? Do you want to tell a story that invokes as much dread as possible in your players? Do you want them to feel ultra powerful? Vampire is both a power fantasy and a dread inducing game- it can do both. 

3. If you don’t know what kind of story you want to tell, switch gears to worldbuilding. CbN has so many NPCs with the rumors already written for you. Its your setting, perhaps switch two rumors around with prominent NPCs. Decide which ones are true in your setting- Maybe Primogen Annabell did kill her predecessor. Perhaps the Lasombra are attempting to infiltrate the Camarilla as everyone fears- but no one is able to prove it or stop it. Deciding what is true, false, and undetermined usually blossoms into hooks and stories worth investigating.

4. What is a historical event of the city that the Vampires would have endured/ scars would have remained? For example, in my chronicle set in Richmond, the tale of the Richmond Vampire is true. Depending on who you ask, it is the Camarilla’s best or sloppiest cover up. Have the chronicle coincide with the events and the coterie live through them. No one said this must take place in 2021- you can do 2015, 2008, -hell go back the 1990s. Its actually super fun if you set your chronicle in the 90s and your Malkavian is using phrases from 2020.

5. One of my things I do when writing scenes and moments is play Dread by myself. Dread is a role playing game played with jenga. There are no dice rolls, if you want to attempt something, you have to pull pieces from the tower. If the tower falls, you die. If there is a moment where I really really really dont want to pull from the tower, though the reward for succeeding is so so sweet- I keep the moment. If its really easy to shrug and go eh, I can live without performing that action- go back and rewrite it. If you have no incentive to pull from the tower, why would they?

6. Examine your player’s desires and ambitions- and do not neglect them in your chronicle. The plot wont magically allow all of them to achieve their ambitions. However, provide opportunities for them through the plot. Its on them to strive for what their character wants- its on you to make them struggle but have the path to get there. For example, if a player wants to become a Baron, provide a political opening. Perhaps then by announcing their power, they have made a bigger name for themselves and it has become harder to hide. Perhaps by doing this, the kindred they owe a favor is suddenly much more vocal about it. 

Here are some suggestions for handling new players:

> You are going to have to handhold them through some things. New players to vtm won’t be able to see the cascading political web and how the consequences of their actions will ripple into waves. I like to use Wits+Insight and call it Common Sense. Common Sense was a merit in V20- and damn is it WONDERFUL. All they need is just 1 success (they can take half) to have you explain how whatever plan they just thought of is actually a TERRIBLE idea. 

> Do your RPG consent list. Know what is safe to discuss and what is off the table. I highly recommend utilizing something my Storyteller used for my first chronicle, and subsequently I use for all my ttrpgs now: Invoking the Veil. The metaphor is that you are slowly lessening the intensity of a scene- as if raising the opacity or looking through layers of fabric. Eventually, there is too much fabric and you can no longer see the scene. If something is too intense, the ST or the player may announce they are invoking the veil. Reduce the scene by lowering music, speaking in third person, or avoiding heavy descriptors. You can reduce it further to just dice rolls. Role play stops, and the consequences of the scene are solely dictated by the dice. Or fade to black. If a player is repeatedly fading to black on something- ask to talk to them about it. Clearly something is too intense and they are not having as much fun as they can. Debriefing after a session is also a good idea. Do something silly! Share and check all the memes in the discord chat. Its important to make sure you and your players know that at the end of the night- its all just a game.

> I find the sabbat and new players don’t tend to mix well. You may absolutely still use the sabbat in your chronicle! But the dogma and philosophical ideals of the sabbat can be offputting and downright upsetting to a first time player. You may absolutely build to it- that’s what I did to my players. And in the moment of the truth, they chose to cling to humanity. 

> The taking half mechanic is your friend! V5 says players may announce how many dice they are rolling- and if the dividend is greater than the DC- they auto succeed. This streamlines play. Of course, you as the Storyteller may say this is a roll they are not allowed to take half on. Usually these are contested rolls (combat).

> The three turns and out rule keeps combat intense but not too lengthy. It actually streamlines encounters super super well. 

> My ST used a phrase, “The quickest way to kill Cthulhu is to give it a healthbar.” If Methuselahs and Elders are involved in your game- avoid giving them stat blocks. This cultivates a conflict that new players must find a way to overcome without brute force combat. It makes them think critically and defy these super old antagonists through narrative means. This also gets the notion out of your and their heads, “if they die, its over.” Its never that easy. Never. 

[metalrequiem]

having trouble remembering what type is strong against what? look no further!

its always easier to remember things when you know WHY, wouldn’t you agree? so here’s my method of remembering the type advantages, just for you. i do so hope it helps :)

bug > grass : this is the reason why your tomato plant never gives you more than two tomatoes come harvest time.

bug > dark : one time, when i was like six or something, i was wandering around the college my dad worked at (as the head of the it department) with him because he had to do something in one of the tech closets. it was just wires and computers super disorganized; ran the network or something idk i was six. anyway the floor was like, black when we opened the door, but then when he turned on the light it turned fucking white as the carpet of roaches just fucking scattered. i forgot where i was going with this.

bug > psychic : bugs are one of the three most common fears. this will come up again. guess how many times.

dark > ghost : ghost summoning is dark magic (think warlocks). considering they’re the one who summoned it, the dark sorcerer would obviously be more powerful than the ghost.

dark > psychic : once again; dark is one of the most common fears.

dragon > dragon : trust nobody, not even yourself.

electric > flying : the only thing worse than being zapped and paralyzed is being zapped and paralyzed 20 feet up in the air.

electric > water : i mean, this one’s pretty obvious. water + electricity = bad time. (actually, fun fact, distilled water doesn’t conduct electricity - it’s the stuff typically in the water that makes it conductive. i think.)

fairy > fighting : wizards are just inherently more powerful than fighters, i guess. keep that in mind next time you play 5e.

fairy > dark : My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Season 1; Episodes 1 & 2

fairy > dragon : i’m pretty sure this was the reason they made fairy type a thing in the first place? anyway, the knight slaying the dragon to save the princess is like, THE classic fairy tale trope.

fighting > dark : so google tells me that this is a good vs evil thing, where dark is “fighting dirty” (which makes sense considering the moves like nasty plot, sucker punch, etc), and the advantage is that fighting dirty doesn’t mean you’ll win, it actually means you’re more likely to lose. or whatever. fighters are better than rogues is the explanation, actually.

fighting > normal : go ask a black belt to fist fight you. i dare you.

fighting > ice : strong man punch through ice block.

fighting > rock : strong man punch through rock.

fighting > steel : [visibly distressed] s... strong... strong man punch through... steel???

fire > bug : you know how a bunch of kids have that weird part of their lives where they think using a magnifying glass to set a bug on fire with the power of the sun is the neatest shit?

fire > grass : i mean, duh. the more specific example that usually comes to mind for me though is wildfires in like, the savannah. or australia.

fire > ice : fire melts ice. i seen’t it with my own two eyes.

fire > steel : jet fuel can, in fact, melt steel beams.

flying > bug : i mean, bugs do compose most birds’ diets. except for the bearded vulture. that motherfucker eats bones.

flying > fighting : have you ever tried to punch a bird out of the sky?

flying > grass : i guess cause, like, birds live in grass? and they use it to make up their nests? like this type advantage comes entirely from intimidation factor. “i live inside the remnants of your second cousin,” and all that.

ghost > ghost : in basically all ghost related lore/mythology, while they struggle to interact with the corporeal plane, ghosts can interact with other ethereal beings/objects just fine. i guess that extends to beating the shit out of each other.

ghost > psychic : finally, the third of the 3 most common fears.

grass > ground : plants literally grow out of the fucking ground.

grass > rock : saw a dandelion growing out of a crack in the pavement on my walk today. effervescent.

grass > water : water is one of the two required molecules (reactants, kinda? ish?) for photosynthesis. this was a really complicated way of saying plants go glug glug.

ground > electric : ground is a bad conductor. its much easier to punch someone when their powers are completely useless.

ground > fire : throwing dirt is a pretty good way of putting out a fire, actually. it suffocates it, and since fire needs oxygen to burn,,,

ground > poison : rub some dirt on it. also i heard once that if you put dirt/sand/whatever on a wound with poison (like a bite i guess?), it’ll soak some of it up or out or something. its not a solution, but it  would buy you some time i guess. please don’t test whether this is true or not.

ground > rock : honestly? i got nothing. rock come from ground. dust to dust. there.

ground > steel : for one, steel is derived from ground stuff. that seems important? you could look at it from like, a natural vs artificial scenario. like, no matter how invincible we think something we build is, the earth will outlast it and reclaim itself eventually.

ice > dragon : the classic dragon breathes fire, and dragons are generally accepted to be reptiles (which are cold-blooded), so if a dragon’s body temperature fell too low, it’d be a massively crippling blow.

ice > flying : i’m pretty sure that birds can fly if it’s too cold? i mean, it makes sense. you know how it gets harder to feel and control your fingers when it’s cold? i imagine that’d be pretty disastrous for a bird’s wings while it’s trying to fly.

ice > grass : this is another kinda common knowledge one. most types of plants don’t do well in cold weather.

ice > ground : i don’t know exactly how to articulate it, but my head is screaming the word “PERMAFROST” at me repeatedly, so let’s go with that.

poison > fairy : poison is a pretty common weapon of choice for fairy tale villains? like, snow white instantly comes to mind. the princess bride, too. in older stories, there’s, like, the witches in macbeth.

poison > grass : so at its core, this is “poisoning nature”, which could go any number of ways, really, but i think specifically of pollution. there’s no joke for this one. eat the rich.

psychic > fighting : “brains over brawn”. everyone knows this one, lmao.

psychic > poison : i mean, there’s that trope where the protag just wills their way through being poisoned. more realistically, some cultures believe meditation can expel poison/impurities from your body. which is where the idea for the pop culture trope came from in the first place?

rock > bug : do you know that scene in d*sney’s hunchback, sorta in the beginning, where frollo is giving phoebus his absolutely batshit monologue about his plans for genocide and he lifts up a stone to show all the ants under it to visually prove his point about a hideout somewhere in the city and then he flips is and crushes them all to really drive that point home and phoebus is like “with all due respect, jesus fucking christ sir”? yeah.

rock > fire : recall the “put out a fire by suffocating it” thing. rocks work too. i guess.

rock > flying : let’s go throw rocks at birds!

rock > ice : ice melts, but rock is forever. (honestly, i personally think the advantage should actually be the other way around because when water gets in even the smallest crack and freezes, it expands and makes the crack even bigger, rinse and repeat. but there’s nothing i can really do about that lmao).

steel > fairy : y’know, the whole “knight in shining armor” bit. we’ve been over this.

steel > ice : you know what happens if you freeze a sword? you get a cold sword (ignore the fact that it gets brittle - that’s future you’s problem). you know what happens if you hit an ice block really hard with a sword? you wind up with more distinct pieces of ice than when you started.

steel > rock : i guess rock is just. more brittle than steel? weaker? less versatile? who fucking knows.

water > fire : ._.

water > ground : mudd....

water > rock : erosion! don’t think about it too hard.

normal > nothing : that’s the fucking point.

BONUS: the no effect matchups!

normal/fighting X ghost : go punch a ghost.

ghost X normal : go get punched by a ghost.

poison X steel : i mean, this makes sense. steel is the only wholly artificial pokemon type, so it wouldn’t be affected by having something nasty thrown at it. unless it’s salazzle. in which case, fuck you.

ground X flying : can’t get hurt by an earthquake if you’re in the sky. this is where i’d put that meme if i wasn’t too lazy to go find it.

electric X ground : grounded things can’t be electrocuted! or something like that. i don’t know. i told you, my dad’s the it guy.

psychic X dark : so, i actually think about this a lot. think about common fears. the one thing they all have in common is they’re linked with the unknown, somehow. like, basically all fears boil down to the fear of the unknown. people fear animals and bugs because they don’t know what they’re capable of doing to them, or what’ll happen to them if they DO do something to them. people fear drugs/alcohol (like me) because they don’t know what they’ll do or what they’re capable of doing with less self-control. so, that’s cool and all, i hear you say, but what about the fears typed in pokemon? well, ok, bugs. that’s the easiest of the three: you can just research them?? lmao go google that beetle, you’ll be fine. yeah, you’ll still be scared of the ones that you now KNOW can hurt you, but you can psych yourself up and away from that, really. or just avoid them. when it comes to ghosts, it can go one of two ways: either you can explain away whatever it is sparked the fear at that moment in the first place and calm yourself by believing they aren’t real, or you can just accept that, hey, that was a ghost, and coexist with it. chill with the ghost. offer it some cheez its. so again, you can will your way past that fear. the problem with the dark, though, is that it’s essentially the purest form of the “unknown” you can get while also keeping it physical rather than conceptual. if you’re in a dark room, or a dark forest, or the basement with a single, flickering, bulb, you can’t will that fear away. you either fear the dark, or you’re lucky enough to not. there is no way to know whether you’re alone or not. there is nothing to research, nothing to explain. there’s nothing but you, your mind, and the suffocating blackness. in this situation, really, your mind isn’t on your side anymore (again, assuming you have a fear of the dark), so how can you be expected to do anything against it?

dragon X fairy : and they all lived happily ever after :)

[paperanddice]

Tears of the Crocodile God Part 4

Statues in Stasis

My alternate setup for area 6 is more standard to the immediate suspicion of the room, but means that more of the shields are likely to come into play, and that’s to simply have the statues animate and wield the shields themselves. Some of the shields would need some change to their effect to ensure that they always target the attacker instead of the wielder, but putting those on the monsters means that there’s a higher chance of them activating.

The next issue comes from making sure that the characters can’t just snipe the monsters from outside the room before they activate, and prevent them from just huddling in the doorway. A mechanism for that is to put the statues into a form of stasis until a creature spends a full minute in the room, at which point a number of them activate depending on how many creatures are present. Keeps the challenge properly in line with the number of players, and means that it’s highly unlikely that they’ll be able to easily huddle in a single doorway behind the highest AC members. While in stasis the monsters don’t take any damage from attacks, so shooting and fireballing them doesn’t do anything.

5th Edition

For a 5e version, my two runs used slightly different monster setups. The first was a small number of helmed horrors, the second a large number of slightly boosted animated armor. I feel like a better version would be a combination of the two, using the animated armors to hem in characters while a smaller number of elite helmed horrors use flight to get to vulnerable targets. Both may be a little low leveled compared to the party, but the effects of the shields will help change the tides of the fight a bit, as every missed attack against them has the potential for serious consequences. Give the animated armor +2 AC as long as they keep their shield, and reflavor the helmed horrors’ attacks as a slam instead of a longsword, and there isn’t even a visible difference between them until some start flying and are revealed to have resistances and better hp. Or be fairer and have some kind of distinction the players can recognize once they activate, like the horrors glowing or something. That’s really the better option unless you’re very close with your players and they trust you when you pull some tricks like that, but letting them waste a powerful and limited ability on an animated armor they think has helmed horror stats could be quite frustrating.

13th Age

I don’t know of any really conveniently leveled statues I could really easily slot in to this encounter, and adding some of the spellshatter shield effects to a monster built to function without them could bump up the difficulty a bit more than intended, so I’ll have to customize a few for it.

Child Statue 4th level troop [construct] Initiative +4 Heavy punch +9 vs. AC - 13 damage [special trigger] Spellshatter shield - Make ONE spellshatter shield attack. The statue’s shield disintegrates and it takes a -2 penalty to AC and PD. Limited use: 1/battle, as a free action when an enemy misses the statue with a melee attack and rolls a natural odd attack roll. Collect shield: As a quick action, the statue can equip an unused shield, recharging its spellshatter shield attack and gaining a +2 bonus to AC and PD. AC 21 PD 19 MD 14 HP 55

Empowered Child Statue 5th level blocker [construct] Initiative: +5 Shockingly heavy punch +10 vs. AC - 10 damage plus 5 lightning damage [special trigger] Shatterspell shield - Make ONE shatterspell shield attack. The statue’s shield disintegrates and it takes a -2 penalty to AC and PD. Limited use: 1/battle, as a free action when an enemy misses the statue with a melee attack and rolls a natural odd attack roll or when the statue uses intercept strike. Intercept strike: If a creature engaged with the statue hits another creature with a melee attack, the statue can negate all damage and effects of that attack and immediately make a shatterspell shield attack against the attacking creature as a free action. Collect shield: As a quick action, the statue can equip an unused shield, recharging its spellshatter shield attack and gaining a +2 bonus to AC and PD. AC 22 PD 20 MD 15 HP 75

Teenager Statue 7th level leader [construct] Initiative: +7 Shatterspell punch +12 vs. AC - 25 damage and all nearby statues have +2 to spellshatter shield attacks until the end of the statue’s next turn. Natural 16+: One nearby child statue’s shield reforms if it has been used. The statue recharges its spellshatter shield attack and gains +2 AC and PD. [Special trigger] Spellshatter shield - Make ONE spellshatter shield attack. The statue’s shield disintegrates and it takes a -2 penalty to AC and PD. Limited use: 1/battle, as a free action when an enemy misses the statue with a melee attack and rolls a natural odd attack roll. Collect shield: As a quick action, the statue can equip an unused shield, recharging its spellshatter shield attack and gaining a +2 bonus to AC and PD. AC 24 PD 22 MD 17 HP 110

Hag’s Lair

Statting up Old Beshebra and her sons shouldn’t be too significant of an issue in either system. Beshebra is a modification of one of the standard hag stat blocks, just designed to be a bit filthier and to tie her to her sons a bit more, and the sons themselves are a bunch of big brutes.

5th Edition

None of the released hags in the Monster Manual or Volo’s Guide fit perfectly with Beshebra, but given her shapeshifting and focus on claws the green hag is a good starting point. I used a night hag in my runs just to save time, but that really meant her primary action in both combats was to magic missile from a mud pit rather than actually engage the party, so I’ll level up a green hag, add some gross effects and the son related powers, and we’ve got our filth hag.

Old Beshebra Medium fey, neutral evil Armor Class 18 (natural armor) Hit Points 110 (13d8 + 52) Speed 30 ft. Str 24 (+7) Dex 20 (+5) Con 19 (+4) Int 15 (+2) Wis 13 (+1) Cha 17 (+3) Skills Deception +6, Stealth +8 Senses passive Perception 11 Languages Common, Draconic, Sylvan Challenge 6 (2300 XP) Devour Offspring. As a bonus action, Old Beshebra deals 15 damage to one of her sons within 25 feet of her. She regains 10 hit points. Earth Walk. Difficult terrain composed of rock, mud or similar surfaces doesn't cost Old Beshebra extra movement. Stench. Any creature that starts its turn within 5 feet of Old Beshebra must succeed on a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or be poisoned until the start of its next turn. On a successful saving throw, the creature is immune to Old Beshebra's Stench for 24 hours. Actions Filthy Claws. Melee Weapon Attack: +10 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 16 (2d8+7) slashing damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or contract a disease. Until the disease is cured, the target can't regain hit points except by magical means, and the target's hit point maximum decreases by 10 (3d6) every 24 hours. If the target's hit point maximum drops to 0 as a result of this disease, the target dies. Change Shape. Old Beshebra magically polymorphs into a Small or Medium female humanoid, or back into her true form. Any equipment she is wearing or carrying isn't transformed. She reverts to her true form if she dies. Goad Son. Old Beshebra targets one filth hag son she can see within 30 feet of her. If the target can see or hear her, the target can use its reaction to make one melee attack roll with advantage.

As for the sons, a slightly modified shambling mound was the quick and effective solution. Just describe them as including crocodile and human bones and parts within them and you’ve got a filth hag son. Give the hag son the following additional abilities.

The son can understand Old Beshebra but can’t speak. New ability: Son’s Ire. If Old Beshebra is below 55 hit points, and the son can see or hear her within 100 feet, the son has advantage on all attack rolls. New reaction: Silent Fury (Recharge 5-6). If a hostile creature within 20 feet of the son hits Old Beshebra with an attack, the son can move up to its speed and make a slam attack against the triggering creature.

13th Age

The Bestiary has hags in it, and by great fortune they’re at just the right level for our adventure. The main thing is just to pick out the appropriate hag abilities and death curse to inflict upon the party. It may be a bit more work, but I’m actually inclined to give Beshebra a slightly different loadout of abilities depending on how the party encounters her. As a default, weakening touch seems appropriate. Disease, filth, and a deadly touch. If they’re slow and Syere falls victim to the hag, then the Annis skin ability is entirely appropriate, but otherwise she’s not going to be luring them in at all. In that case something like foul-touched may be a good second choice, reflecting what living in a literal pit of toxic mud does to a person. It’s not good. As for the death curse, how about something like, “You came to me and spilled my blood, your boots will always fill with mud.” Frustrating, weird, but not necessarily damaging. Seems to fit the bill.

As an extra skill, the hag could get the following ability: Devour offspring: As a quick action, Old Beshebra deals 20 damage to a nearby filth hag son and regains 15 hit points.

This keeps Beshebra in the fight a little bit longer, but doesn’t extend the length of the entire fight, since the total damage dealt goes up. Of course the hag would be fine with sacrificing her minions.

The sons are best done with a fully customized monster, as nothing in the SRD I’ve found fits for what I’d want. There’s no immediately obvious shambling mound analogue, and most of the monsters around the same level don’t quite fit. The Flowers of Unlife from 13 True Ways were an idea I had, but I don’t think they quite fit.

Filth Hag Son 6th level blocker [plant] Initiative: +5 Putrid Slam +10 vs. AC - 10 damage and 10 poison damage Natural 16+: The target is stuck and hampered (save ends both). [Special trigger] C: Furious tackle +10 vs. PD (one nearby enemy) - The target pops free of any creatures it is engaged with, is engaged with the son, and is stuck and hampered (save ends both). Limited use: 1/round, as an interrupt action when a nearby enemy hits Old Beshebra with an attack. The son can either make a disengage check to try to move to attack the enemy, or move to attack the enemy and only take half damage from opportunity attacks. AC 23 PD 21 MD 14 HP 90

That’s it for the monster discussion for these encounters. Next time I’ll discuss the Mold King’s Crown, the Chained Hydra, and the Mimic’s Parlor. One of those will be relatively easy, the other two much less so. Mold King’s Crown will be one of the most work intensive encounters in the adventure, with the number of hazards and mechanics around the monsters within it. Fortunately, half of that will come in a different post so I can focus on one part at a time.

[pauldron-pieces]

Perdita 'Aurelezra' Gentle's Backstory: From Elsewhere

Fandom: Dungeons And Dragons (5E)

Pairing: N/A, Perdita-Centric

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: This is a hypothetical narrative scenario featuring original characters in a world created by my Dungeon Master. As usual, this is non-canon and I own nothing aside from intellectual properties specifically attached to Perdita Gentle. This installment is mechanically unsound in a multitude of ways and ignores certain important lore facets.

Applicable trigger warnings are listed inside. Enjoy!

Taglist: @sporadic-fics and @cookiethewriter!

Inspired By: The Little Mermaid Score: Bedtime and sleepmakeswaves: One Day You Will Teach Me To Let Go Of My Fears

[Perdita Gentle is a Warforged celestial warlock utilizing the Pact Of The Bastion homebrew, and her appearance can be found here!]

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains multiple triggering scenes including vivid depictions of violence and brief mentions of character death. Stay safe!]

It came from elsewhere...

Amidst the hail of shooting stars peppering the landscape from the tail of the near-passing comet, something else arrived.

It was frail, fragile, spindly fingers clawing for purchase on the walls of the crater it emerged from. It did not make it much further than that, and it was discovered the following morning by two children surveying the damage in their family's garden.

Between the two of them, they propped it up, marveling at the chipped red gilding that coated its limbs. It stirred and they fled in a panic, running back towards the large house and calling for their parents.

×+×

Brand stared down at the crumpled mess of Warforged on his front terrace, an eyebrow raised. His two young children danced around his legs, alternating between pulling him forward and tugging him back. "This is the cause of all the fuss? This?" He asked incredulously.

"It moved by itself!"

"Aye, just as you move by yourself." The former captain commented dryly, ruffling his daughter's hair and utterly destroying the complex tangle of braids her mother had labored over. "You two lubbers have seen Warforged before, or have you forgotten?"

"Testin doesn't look like that!" His son protested. "Testin has a face!"

"You know how your hair is different from mine, pup? And how your sister's nose is less prodigious than this beak I sport? Warforged have such varied traits as well."

The head on the thing looked like an old Thanatonaut relic, just a smooth dome. It also bore archaic equipment for off-Flow navigation on the inside of its arms. Brand heaved out a sigh, smoothing a finger over his brown mustache in a meditative manner.

"Well, we can't just leave 'em out here. Ceere, have your mother ring Testin. And you, Kamer, are going to help me settle this poor rattler into one of our chairs out here." Brand rolled his eyes at how pale his son went, while Ceere stuck her tongue out at him. "Oi, chit, stop taunting your brother. Now shoo, and make sure your mother knows to tell Testin that it's important!"

×+×

Brand Gentle had made his fortune in his younger years as the eventual captain on a deep-space excavation platform. He had seen many odd things in his day, unearthed strange and unusual artifacts from times long gone by. Thanatonaut helms that predated mankind's fumbling into Flow travel, monoliths to terrible and forgotten powers; the refuse of man's advance into the stars.

Yet he had never seen anything quite like this. A Warforged birthed of a meteor, trimmed in battered red and gold like the veils of the Vespertine Order.

The former captain sat on his patio across from the mysterious Warforged, finally leaning forward in his chair after he collected his thoughts. "What is your name?" He asked quietly.

The thing ticked and whirred, and a hoarse voice answered, "I have no designation." A female voice.

Brand sighed heavily. He should have known it wouldn't be so straightforward. Beside him, Testin Awe cleared his throat. "Think back. Can you remember what happened before you woke in the Gentle's prize rose garden?" The hulking Warforged's tone was dry, blue eyes darting to Brand when he touched upon the sensitive subject. Brand was exceedingly protective of his roses.

More ticking. "Darkness." An odd shimmy of mechanics long unused as she tipped her head to the side. "I fell."

"I bet you did." Testin replied, then muttered under his breath, "Captain, she's battier than the Bakhroma Green."

Brand waved him off, giving the faceless Warforged across from him a tight smile. She cocked her head to the side again, and he got the unsettling feeling that he was being studied.

"I hurt your flowers. How can I fix them?" She queried.

Brand blinked. Testin, despite lacking an actual throat, seemed quite intent on clearing it today.

×+×

Calling her Perdita seemed to be a given. She was lost, constantly, wandering the grounds of the Gentle estate at all hours of the night and day. She had no physical needs, as was the custom of her race, so Brand saw no harm in her roving. She certainly didn't seem malicious, just curious in a blunt way.

Libertia, Brand's wife, took an odd shine to the spacey automaton. The former captain often found the woman chatting to her, trying to help her expand her ability for speech. Perdita was minimalist in her words, though she did eventually begin to speak more as the years passed.

Testin thought Perdita was a bit touched. "Still a little battle-rattle in that one." He had remarked privately to Brand, his craggy face oddly sympathetic for a Warforged. "Hard to shake sometimes."

Brand knew better than most folk that Warforged were more than adequate matches for their fleshy counterparts, and he took everything his old first mate told him as gospel. Testin was in agreement with Brand that the red and gold Warforged was decidedly not a threat.

"She just likes the flowers?" Testin asked suddenly one evening as he and Brand sat on the terrace. Brand nodded lazily, the smoke from his cheroot cigar twirling and arching through the air. "I don't get it, but...well, I guess you did have a penchant for gathering up the misfits." The gray-green Warforged allowed, his sidelong grin making Brand chuckle. "She's happy here, y'know. She mentioned it to me earlier. She thinks she's helping when you let her trim the bushes." His laughter was a rusty noise.

"She loves talking with Lib. Er, with may not be the right term. My wife could talk the legs off a table." Brand smiled fondly and Testin rolled those glowing blue eyes.

"Have you heard from Kamer at all?" The large Warforged changed the subject, frowning when the former captain sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not sure I should have sent him away for his schooling. What with the Empire gaining ground steadily, I'm uncertain how long the boarding schools will be safe."

"Hey, Kamer's smart. You know that. That kid won't get himself tangled up in anything. Besides, what the hell would the Empire want with a kid who's sole aspiration is to be an architect?" Testin tilted his head. "Now, Ceere-"

"Don't remind me, she's apprenticed to the Facturers now. Hopefully, by the grace of the gods, she'll put her tinkering tendencies to good use and stop destroying my beautiful skiffs." Brand groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"I mean, she's got great potential. Engine ripped itself apart in three different places."

"I'm well aware, you mechanical menace. It was my favorite Screamer class!"

×+×

Libertia was the one to suggest that Perdita consider taking up the habit of the Vespertine Order.

"You seem at peace whenever you come with me to chapel, Perdie." She commented one afternoon over tea. Brand raised an eyebrow at his wife, then glanced at the featureless automaton across the way. "Have you ever thought about joining the convent?" Libertia queried.

Perdita hummed thoughtfully. "I like the chapel. It's quiet. Makes me feel like I can stop moving." She offered a shrug. "I know I'm not...quiet." She was a much older model than Testin and her body tended to rattle or squeak at odd intervals.

"You don't feel like you can be still here?" Brand asked curiously.

"I am restless." The Warforged admitted quietly. "Some things help. The garden. The chapel."

Brand grunted, settling back in his chair and lapsing into thought. The Vespertine sisters were a formidable bunch, for all that they resided on this backwater planetoid. They seemed to have their proverbial fingers in a multitude of pies. He wasn't sure if he trusted them with his Perdie.

His mustache quirked up in a wry grin, realizing that he was thinking of the Warforged like she was one of his own children. "Do what you think is best, Perdie. Perhaps the quiet will help you sort yourself out. Gods know we tithe enough to the church, maybe in exchange for our continued generosity they'll accept someone a little less fleshy than their usual ranks."

He got the faintest impression that Perdita was beaming at him, her whole body haloed with a strange golden light. But Brand blinked and the light was gone. He shook his head at himself, vowing not to spike his afternoon tea so strongly next time.

×+×

When the Empire came to the planet years later, they struck without warning.

Evening prayer had just finished, the last fleeting rays of sunlight peering through the simple leaded glass windows of the chapel. Perdita sat docile in the pew, her head bowed beneath her veil.

"It makes me glad to know that you've found some sort of peace and purpose." Brand commented, the now-elderly man ambling up alongside her. "Never put much faith in this church business, myself. Give me the Flow and a nimble craft and I'm a content man."

"Captain." She inclined her head. She had heard his sentiment many times before.

"I'm surprised you haven't gone out to chart the world, my dear. Your cartographer's gear will get rusty!" The former captain teased, settling down into the pew and patting her arm. "Surely, the Vespertine sisters ought to be spread?"

"It is dangerous." Perdita sighed. "I am trying. The Ferrarium Empire-"

"Bah, belay that codswallop here." Brand groused. "Bunch of nobles in stuffed shirts with too many guns and not enough good sense. Stole my good boy away and turned him into a simpering buffoon." He bowed his head, touching his thumb to his left cheek and then his sternum. "Thank the gods his mother passed on before he made that terrible choice."

An odd whistling caught his attention, and Brand cocked his head. His hearing had been shot for years, maybe he was imagining the sound-

The windows abruptly exploded inwards as an impact rocked the ground. Sisters scurried this way and that in panic, their veils fluttering like butterfly wings as they ushered the last few stragglers out of the structure. Brand, his ears still ringing from the first bombardment, felt a second one strike outside. Perdita was stiff, unmoving in the pew, so he seized her hand and made haste for the doorway.

"Perdie, we cannot linger in this place!" He tried to snap her out of it, her deceptively-heavy form slowing their flight. "It's the Empire, Perdie, we have to--" Through the haze of dust rising, the former captain caught sight of a massive dreadnought's keel flying low overhead. Rage burned at his soul; why would they come here of all places? This was a planet of agriculture, not manufacturing!

Perdita tilted her head, and Brand knew that she must have noticed the ship. "What is that?" She asked, her voice ticking up slightly in query.

"That is something that should not have turned its eye upon us!" Brand snapped. "Why the devil would they-" There was shouting up ahead, and scattered pistol fire. "Martyr's malfeasance," the elderly man swore, "I ought to have known."

The Inquisitors had arrived, bearing overpowered arms and causing chaos as was their want. Brand managed to slip around the edge of the advancing line, searching the crowds for Testin's large form. His old first mate was nowhere to be seen and Brand's heart sank.

An Inquisitor loomed up out of the smoke in front of them, halting the former captain in his tracks. "Identify yourself, civilian." The armored man droned.

"Or what? You've already blown the chapel and convent to pieces!" Brand spat. "What could the Ferrarium Empire possibly want from a sleepy little colony planet?"

The Inquisitor's baton met the side of the elderly man's head with a dull thud, felling him with ease.

×+×

Brand started awake, hacking and wheezing as he inhaled ash. He sat up, ignoring the throbbing of his head. Where is-

"Perdita!" He yelled, struggling to his feet and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Perdie, where are you?"

The cobblestones underfoot had been broken and scattered by the mortaring, making the footing uncertain. The former captain stumbled forward over the rubble, continuing to call for the Warforged.

A shimmer of red and gold flickered through the hellish smoke up ahead, and he fancied it might be her habit. His suspicions proved correct as her frail form solidified out of the clouds of billowing dust and ash.

"Perdita!" Brand exclaimed gladly.

She turned slowly at the sound of his voice, that damned veil still flapping fitfully in the turbulent air. Beneath the gauzy shroud where her domed head was, the former captain saw something blaze to life. Eyes, hundreds of them, glowing through the fabric. Brand stopped in his tracks, uncertain of what he was seeing. That blow to the head must have rattled him, now he was hallucinating!

Her hand pressed to her chest over the long habit. "I am the bastion." Perdita said calmly, as though they weren't being bombarded by low-flying aircraft. "I am Vespertine, I am Alizarin, I am reborn. My name is Aurelezra, and I fell to defend."

A shell plummeted from the sky and with a single motion, she obliterated it. One moment it was there, the next, she simply pointed at it and a shimmering golden manifestation that resembled an enormous rose blossom appeared directly in its path. The shell struck it, the impact sending foiled shrapnel flitting listlessly to the ground.

Brand was wholly bewildered. The only other time he had witnessed such power was when-

The thousands of eyes swiveled to stare at him, blinking rapidly. Brand swallowed hard. "What did those blasted nuns do to you, Perdie?" He asked, his voice so low he wasn't sure if she would hear it over the pandemonium.

Perdita tipped her head to the side, those eyes writhing and teeming nauseatingly over one another, flickering through the habit in a way that made Brand exceedingly glad she was wearing it. "I am the bastion." She repeated. She sounded hideously serene. "I am Alizarin."

Rifle reports barked through the air and Perdita turned towards the noise, setting off over the debris with sure steps. "Wait, Perdie!" Brand protested, fumbling after her as best as he could. "Perdie, are you mad? These are Inquisitors, you can't just..." He trailed off as he watched her simply walk through the line of gunfire. "Or perhaps you can." He muttered.

A strange golden haze shone around her body and every time a bullet struck the haze, a malevolent eye roiled to the surface to fix the attacker with a blazing stare. More shells rained down and each one was foiled or thrown off-target by shimmering, sunset-hued roses, blossoming riotously to life in midair like some grand fireworks display at a midsummer fair.

"Captain!" That was Testin's voice, thank gods. The elderly man turned this way and that, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally spotted the towering mass that was Testin.

"Testin my boy, you're a sight for sore eyes!" Brand said with a wry grin, taking in the small cluster of nuns that were teeming anxiously in the shadow of the massive automaton. Among them was the Mother Superior, her black veil a stark contrast to the usual red. "You've got some explaining to do, woman! What the hell have you done to my Perdie?" Brand thundered, itching to shake her until her teeth rattled.

"Sister Perdita has spent many, many hours reading the scriptures and studying our texts, Captain Gentle." The woman replied, almost infuriatingly calm. "She was brought to this planet for a specific reason."

"What are you on about? Look at her! It's like she's possessed!" The elderly man shouted.

"She has become more, Captain. A vessel for something that we mere mortals have only glimpsed. Alizarin, the Red Saint."

"There's a thousand blasted eyes all over her and she's sending out starbursts of roses that intercept cannon fire!" Brand roared. "I'll only ask once more, what have you done to her?"

"She willingly accepted this power, Captain. I suggest you calm yourself. I know you do not believe or trust in the power of the Red Saint, but Sister Perdita does." The matron retorted haughtily. "And when Libertia was alive-"

"Keep my wife's name out of your mouth." Brand snarled, his hand instinctively twitching down towards his hip for the piece he had carried in his younger years.

"Easy now, Cap." Testin intoned, raising a hand. "Easy."

"You planned this from the start." Brand accused the woman, a sick sense of realization blossoming in his gut. "You put the idea in Libertia's head, didn't you? Why Perdie?"

"Warforged make excellent vessels." The Mother Superior said simply.

Testin rumbled in threat overhead, one large hand settling heavily on the woman's shoulder. "I suggest you choose your next words very carefully." The Warforged paladin's tone was one of extreme irritation. "Unless you'd like to find out how bad of a vessel I can be."

"She has become a warlock of exceptional power." The woman hurriedly continued. "The Red Saint is pleased with our offering, and he will-"

"The Red Saint, aye? Unwilling martyr himself." Brand scoffed. "You've gone and turned my girl into a nightmare for the glory of that flayed demagogue."

"A nightmare that can go toe-to-toe with Inquisitor gunsmithing." The Mother Superior shot back smugly. "You knew as well as I did that it was only a matter of time before the Ferrarium Empire turned their gaze to the Fringes. Their grasping for resources is ceaseless."

"As interesting as your bickering is, we're wasting time." Testin growled, gesturing vaguely forwards. "She's gaining on their dreadnought. We following her?"

×+×

Everything was so loud.

"It is time, Aurelezra." His voice was like smoke, like whispers. He drew her attention upwards to the ship, He guided her hands as she wove the spell and He found her the suitable target. "They will not take this planet. They will never take again."

Perdita nodded shakily, power dripping and sparking from her fingers. "Never again."

"You have done well, Aurelezra. You easily outstrip the mortals." He praised as she raised her hands. "I shall do such wonders through you."

×+×

Without warning, a bolt of red light shot from Perdita's hands and arced up at the command ship. Testin swore loudly, the Warforged's face twisting into an approximation of a grimace. "Oh, that's not good." He said hoarsely, leaving the cluster of nuns behind as he moved forward.

"What, what's happened?" Brand asked frantically, trying to keep up.

"That was something that uh, I wouldn't have used. A little too spicy for me." The Warforged grunted, readying the hand cannon integrated in his left forearm. His heavy, elephantine feet easily crushed the rubble beneath him, clearing the way for the former captain. "If everyone on that ship isn't dead after that spell hits..."

"What?" Brand gasped.

Testin shook his head mournfully, not finishing that trail of thought. "We need to figure out where the ship will go down. Figure out whether we can break it apart ahead of time or whether your Perdie has a few more Red Saint tricks up that veil." Testin's sigh was heavy. "I'm sorry, Captain."

The command ship began rapidly losing altitude, listing slightly to the right. Perdita pursued it doggedly and Brand watched her raise her hands again. "Perdie!" He shouted, heartened when she paused. "Stop, Perdie!"

"Stay put!" Testin yelled, then said, "Cap, either get onboard or get left behind, we don't have time for your old bones."

Brand growled something uncharitable about his former first mate, then swung up onto the pro-offered arm.

Testin sprinted forward, easily catching up to the waifish Perdita and grabbing her around the waist with one massive hand. "I'd like to shake the marbles clean out of your chest right now, but we don't have time for me to be pissed off at you." Testin snarled at her, still at his full sprint. "You got anything else in that arsenal of yours, or are you gonna' let that ship crush someone's farm?"

"I can do it."

"What, exactly?"

Perdita pointed upwards at the ship and simply said, "shatter." A massive golden rose exploded into being on the keel, blowing a hole in the hull the size of the town square. Splinters and beams rained down, Testin barely managing to dodge a few of the larger chunks.

"Martyr's malfeasance, you're a menace!" The larger Warforged said in disbelief, the cannon in his left arm whirring to life as the ship sank within his range. "I mean, keep it up, but saint's blood you are an absolute terror." His cannon glowed, shoulder tight when he fired and sent the projectile rocketing upwards to erupt in a radiant blast. "Not fancy, but any port in a storm." He huffed, trying to chamber another round without releasing Perdita.

"There's so much." Perdita was shaking in Testin's grip. Molten gold trailed from her fingertips and every eye that shone through the veil was wide open.

Brand clambered across Testin's shoulders, the elderly man reaching out so he could grab one of her hands. "Listen to me, Perdie." He said loudly, trying to make sure she could hear him over the rapidly-approaching creak of timbers and warning system alarms. "You've got some kind of hellfiring power now, right?"

Perdita nodded slowly. "He's so loud." She breathed, and Brand knew with crushing certainty that she wasn't talking about himself or Testin.

"Aye, I'm sure he is. But if he wants to have you as his vessel, he needs to understand that you're the captain." Brand reasoned fiercely. "You bite back at that freeloader and you tell him you're the damned captain, you hear me girl?!"

×+×

I'm the captain.

Perdita clung to the thought, staggering through the red haze of her subconscious.

I'm the captain.

Alizarin nodded in acquiescence. "That you are, Aurelezra. For now. For this moment. What will you do?" He chuckled. "You are unfamiliar with such power. You have already overdrawn yourself. What will you do, Defender?"

It doesn't matter whether I'm tired. I'm the captain. Me. Not you, she thought stubbornly.

×+×

Perdita clawed her way up Testin's arm to his shoulder, the larger Warforged rumbling in confusion. "What the hell are you doing now?"

"I'm the captain." Perdita said sharply. Blast after golden blast was flung by her hand, the ship groaning under the assault. Timbers cracked and creaked like the ship was caught in a ferocious gale. "I'm the captain!" She yelled, "I'm the captain!"

The dreadnought rent itself apart at the scuppers with one final impact, briefly looking like the massive ribcage of some eldritch horror. The engines tore free of their mooring, the shriek of metal heralding doom for the trio as they plummeted downwards. Testin tried to backpedal, but he had built up such a head of steam and the engines were so enormous-

Brand fumbled to catch Perdita's hand once again, closing his eyes as he heard Testin grit out what he assumed was his final swear.

Looks like I'll be home soon, Lib.

"A Bastion for my faithful." That was not Perdita's voice. It was barely a whisper, smooth as silk and light as a favorable breeze. "Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have seen my power once before. Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have survived my power once before. Blessed shall you be, Brand Gentle, though you do not believe."

A golden dome sheathed the triumvirate of individuals, millions of eyes scattered across it opening and closing at random. Brand gripped Perdita's hand as tightly as he dared, uncertain if he was the only one seeing this...wonder.

"Fear not, Brand Gentle. She will not be harmed."

The dome vanished and Testin fairly seethed with curses, the gray-green Warforged reeling back a step from the flaming wreckage of the engine that surrounded them. A neat circle had been sheared out from the dome, the edges still molten and smoking.

"That's it. Whatever's gotten into you, I'm tearing it out of you!" the paladin announced, grappling Perdita around the waist again. "Send that cosmic bastard back to the Deep Reef where it belongs, I-" He paused when she went limp in his hold, lowering his glowing right hand after a moment. "Uh...Perdie?" He asked warily, shaking her until she rattled. "Perdie?"

"I'm the captain." She responded, her voice reedy with exhaustion. Perdita reached out to Brand, and he carefully laced his fingers through her own. "I-I'm the...captain..."

"Aye child," Brand murmured, "that you are."

×+×

The whole colony banded together to scuttle the dreadnought's bones. The Vespertine sisters made themselves marvellously useful when it came to putting the dead to rest.

Most of the ship's crew had been slaughtered by whatever Perdita had done with that spell, and the few left alive had perished on impact.

Testin had grunted in satisfaction as he surveyed the red veiled sisters scurrying to and fro in the wreckage. "I think your Perdie just fired the galaxy's largest warning shot."

"Aye." Brand had agreed wearily. "Now all that's left to see is whether the Empire will take notice."

"Their dreadnoughts aren't usually...destroyed, Captain. Once word gets back to them, all hell's going to break loose." The Warforged predicted grimly, his arms folded over his chest. "You'd better make sure she clears atmosphere before they come back around."

"I don't think I could make her stay!" The former captain chuckled. "She's always been on the move, Testin. High time she did something with all that energy."

×+×

"The Gotengo has been moored for years, Captain. You think it can still hold up?" Testin mused, poring over the old schematics.

Brand sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "It's the finest craft I have at my disposal, dusty or not. And she'll need something nimble if she's planning on trekking out there through the blockades." He meandered to the window of his study, staring down at his rose garden without actually seeing it. "I've already gotten in touch with Squire Deering, and he claims he's found a slew of candidates for her crew."

Testin snorted in disbelief. "And you trust that penny-pinching miser? Guy probably trawled through three different wharfside taverns and asked for able-bodied seamen."

"Deering may be a...bit tight fisted, but he's a good man. I have great faith that when Perdita arrives, she'll be shown nothing but courtesy." Brand assured the gray-green Warforged, stroking his mustache.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I distinctly remember that waistcoat-wearing ponce saddling you with a ship that had a rotted out mainmast." Testin deadpanned. "What did he blame it on? Moths?"

Brand coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Regardless, he will treat her right. Warforged or not, she's the captain."

"A new Captain Gentle." Testin shook his head ruefully. "Never thought I'd see the day. Bodes pretty shit for the Empire, if you ask me."

"All I hope is that she and that blooded saint first mate of hers give them hell."

[atths--twice]

We are just chugging along...

The Eighth Month 5e/6

Chapter Five 

Presents and Presentation 

Time for Scully to come home and see all that Mulder has done in her absence. 

Mulder woke up when his alarm sounded. He rolled over and shut it off, yawning and stretching his arms above his head. He scrubbed his hands down his face and opened his eyes, throwing the blankets back and getting out of bed.

He used the bathroom and brushed his teeth, put on a pair of jeans and a black shirt and went downstairs.

The coffee was ready and he poured a cup. He grabbed a pack of Pop-Tarts and ripped it open, shoving a bite into his mouth as he went to the front door and opened it. He sat outside with his coffee and chewed his food.

He liked being up and outside when it was still early. Scully liked sleeping in, and she usually joined him after she had a bit of a lie in. He liked when she would stumble down the stairs and find him, almost always curling up in his lap. They would discuss the day, or just sit silently.

He thought of what he needed to do before she came home and he got up to do it. He threw away his trash and poured another cup of coffee. He went upstairs and ran the vacuum throughout the rooms and hallway.

When he was finished, he brought it back downstairs along with the laundry basket. He put the vacuum away, grabbed the laundry and headed back upstairs. He made their bed, folded their clothes and put it all away.

He went back downstairs and walked over to the boxes of car seats. They had ordered one actual car seat and an extra base that the car seat clicked into. He opened them both, piled the paperwork to the side. and looked at how the car seat worked. He figured it out and went to place the base in his car. Once it was done, he clicked the seat in and stepped back. Well, that was easy. Now he just needed to add the extra base into Scully’s car.

He put the boxes away, not sure if they should toss them out, and put the car seat paperwork on his desk. He looked at the clock and saw that the woman bringing the gifts would be there in fifteen minutes. He took his cup of coffee and sat back out on the porch to wait.

True to her word, she pulled up at 9:00 sharp. She stepped out and smiled at him. She was an attractive woman and dressed nicely for mass.

Mulder stood up and came down the stairs to greet her. They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. She blushed when she explained that she had volunteered to bring the gifts because she admired Doctor Scully. Mulder laughed and nodded.

She opened the back of her car and they began to unload the items. Multiple gift bags and boxes soon filled the living room.

Annabelle stood in the living room and looked around. She stared at the I Want To Believe poster on the wall and turned to Mulder.

“Do you believe in aliens?” she asked him, her head tilted to the side.

He stared at her and thought how he should answer. This woman obviously liked Scully and he did not want her to be known as the doctor having a baby with a “weirdo.” He was about to answer when she smiled and laughed.

“I was obsessed with aliens when I was younger. I wanted to know everything about them. It drove my parents crazy, especially being as religious as they were. But I couldn’t get enough of it. I wanted to go to all the hotspots where I’d heard of alien activity. Brown Mountain in North Carolina. Lake Okobogee in Iowa. I wanted to go to Area 51 so badly, but..” She trailed off and shrugged her shoulders. Mulder stared at her in disbelief. He shook his head and then laughed.

“I’ve been to all those places,” Mulder said, looking at her again.

“What? Even Area 51?” she said, her eyes wide. “Seriously?!” Mulder nodded, his grin widening.

“I don’t remember much about Area 51 except being kicked out by some government people. Some jackass with two much power and a shitty attitude,” he said, shaking his head at the memory. “We only made it as far as the highway and Scully didn’t really want to be there as it was.”

“You call her “Scully”?” she asked, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Huh? Uh.. yeah. I always have,” he replied, looking down.

“Was that because you worked in the FBI? Like how we see in movies? Everyone calling each other by their last names?” she asked him, crossing her arms and watching him.

“No. I didn’t call everyone by their last name. I think I did it at first to rattle her. To poke and see what irritated the hive,” he said, looking at her. She smiled at him. “After that, it just became her name. It’s just who we are. Mulder and Scully. I honestly don’t think much about it until someone mentions it. She’s just “Scully” to me.”

She grinned and nodded, looking back at the poster with a sigh.

“I need to go to my parents and get some of my boxes out of their garage. I want to put my poster back up,” she said as she walked toward the door. Mulder laughed and followed her out.

As she got to her car, she turned around and looked at him. “Doctor Scully is an amazing doctor. I’ve never seen anyone like her. She has truly inspired me to want to be better and do better.” She looked down at her feet and then back up at him. “I don’t know her plans after the baby is born, but I hope she comes back to the hospital. Not right away, she should be home with the baby, but eventually. She is brilliant and we need more women like her. A woman who will help to inspire others to strive further, who will then in turn inspire others. Will you please tell her that for me?”

Mulder nodded his head, his pride for Scully swelling inside him. Annabelle nodded and got in her car. She backed up and drove away, waving out the window.

Mulder stood there and thought of all the people Scully had touched in her life. Professionally and personally. He wondered how many women would consider her a role model and the force that pushed them forward, seeing her as a strong woman in a field dominated mostly by men. She seemed to have created a ripple effect in her field.

A Scully effect, he thought, smiling at that idea and turned back to the house. He liked the thought of his partner in all aspects of life, being a person others looked up to and admired.

He walked inside and started to look through the things she had received. He put away the wine and coffee and put the bubble bath on the stairs. He smiled at those gifts. He had called Doctor Reynolds and passed along some ideas for Scully if the other guests had been inquiring into what she liked.

He looked at the baby carriers and shook his head. He would wait for Scully to show him how those worked. He looked at all the clothes and blankets, making a pile of items and collapsed the gift bags down as he went through them.

In one bag he found a drawing that had to be from Raina. It looked like another potato person, but one seemed to have a face on its stomach. Maybe this was Scully and the baby. He smiled at the drawing and hung it on the wall.

He went upstairs and grabbed the laundry basket, bringing it downstairs and filling it with the upstairs items. Soap, lotions, cleansing liquids and other supplies. Books and some baskets were also added to it. He stacked the bubble bath and then the baby carriers on top, heading back upstairs.

He put the books in the bookcase and added the stuffed animals. The baskets and supplies he put on the changing table, adding the carriers as well. He stood and looked around at the room. It was really coming together now. He smiled and closed the door as he walked out, heading back to their room to drop off the laundry basket.

He headed back downstairs and put the clothing items in the laundry room. He put the gift bags in the office and then plopped down on the couch. 10:30. Scully would be home in a couple of hours.

He yawned and leaned back into the pillows, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. He would just rest his eyes for a few minutes.

He woke up with a start. It was 12:30. He jumped up and looked for his phone as his stomach growled. He found it and sent Scully a text to stop and get some food on her way home, whatever she wanted. She said she would, and he looked around, being sure everything was done.

It looked good, clean, and ready. He went outside and sat in the chair on the porch to wait for Scully. She should be there in about half an hour. Knowing her, she was probably going to stop at Adele’s and get something. She liked their salads and she knew he liked their ham sandwiches.

Just about thirty minutes later, he saw her car start to pull up. He walked down the stairs so he could meet her and also stop her from immediately seeing the porch swing.

She pulled up in the driveway and stopped as he walked over to her door and opened it for her. She took her seatbelt off and slid out of the car., wrapping her arms around him and kissed him deeply.

“Thank you for the morning I had, Mulder. Everything was wonderful, but that massage was perfect and felt amazing,” she said, her arms looped around his neck. He locked his hands around her back and smiled at her.

“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed it. You deserve it.” He moved his hands to her belly and said hello to the baby.

She laughed and stepped away from him to open the back passenger door. When she did he saw the bags of food. Adele’s. He knew it.

He grabbed the food and her bag, offering her his arm. She took it with a smile and they started walking toward the stairs. She had her eyes down and did not notice the swing until they were at the top of the stairs and she noticed the furniture had been moved.

Looking over to her right, she saw the swing and then looked back at him.

“Oh, Mulder,” she said and let go of his arm and walked over to it.

She touched the side and pushed it a little with her hand. Her hand brushed across the pillows and then the cushioned seat. She looked at him and touched his chest, before turning and attempting to sit in the swing.

He laughed and set down the bags of things in one of the chairs. He took her hand and held the swing steady so she could sit down. When she was situated, she scooted back and patted the seat. He smiled and sat down next to her.

He settled in and pushed with his foot to get the swing going. She put her head against his shoulder and sighed. They sat and rocked for a few minutes.

“I love this, Mulder. Thank you so much,” she said quietly.

He lifted his arm and put it around her, allowing her to cuddle into him more. Her arm slid around his waist and he smiled. Any trouble the swing caused was worth it for this moment. Sitting with her, the warm air stirring around them, and the smell of flowers in her hair. He closed his eyes and they sat for a little bit longer until he heard her sigh again.

“This is perfect. I can’t believe you did this on top of everything else. Mulder, it’s wonderful,” she said before she sat up.

She leaned in and kissed him, then sat up and reached for his hand. She locked their fingers together and stared at him, shaking her head with a smile. He squeezed her hand and stood up, stopping the swing and helping her off of it. She laughed as he held her steady.

“I can’t seem to do anything without assistance these days, I’m like a walking bowling pin- bigger on the bottom and easily knocked off balance,” she said, as she held her hands against his chest and they both laughed. He kissed her and reached for the bags in the chair.

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving,” he said as he opened the screen door.

“Let me guess, Pop-Tarts for breakfast this morning?” she asked sarcastically.

“You know me so well, Scully,” he answered, smiling at her as she started to walk through the door.

She gasped as she was met with a room different than when she left. She looked at him with tears in her eyes.

“Should I expect to be met with these kinds of surprises the rest of the afternoon? Should I anticipate tears for the rest of the day?” she asked, as she wiped her eyes.

“I’d say that’s a safe bet,” he laughed, as he set their food on the table and put her bag on the stairs.

“Mulder, it looks so great in here. I.. thank you,” she said, turning as she looked all around.

“You’re welcome, Scully. Get over here and let’s eat. Starving, remember?” he said, opening the bags.

She laughed and walked over to the table. He set everything down, grabbed a fork for her to eat her salad, and opened the containers.

He picked up his sandwich and took a big bite. Delicious. He wiped his hand across his mouth and she stared at him as she shook her head. He grinned at her and took another bite.

She started eating her salad, but kept looking around at the room and then at him.

“The books are off the stairs. You put the desk away. Mulder..”

“Don’t want anyone to trip over something on the stairs, especially holding the baby. I should have cleaned it off years ago. It was laziness and stubbornness that stopped me before,” he said, around a big bite of food.

“Some of those books were mine,” she stated. “You’re not completely to blame for the mess on the stairs. We both got lazy.”

He stared at her, the double meaning not lost on him. He saw when she realized what she said and how it was received.

“I didn’t.. “

“Scully,” he cut across her, reaching for her hand. “I got lazy, maybe we both did, but it was my mess that was all over this house. My sadness and darkness that seemed to creep into everything. It was my job to clean it, to take care of it. I should have done that a long time ago too, but again I was lazy.”

She squeezed his hand, tears in her eyes again.

“It’s time to move forward, Scully. Having the visible reminder of my stupid mistakes sitting in the middle of the room, if that’s not a fucking metaphor, I don’t know what is,” he said and they both laughed.

“The room is still not quite what I want, but we can make the decisions together. The way we always have and always will. For now though, it’s enough. It will get us to the next step,” he squeezed her hand this time before letting go to take another bite.

She wiped her eyes again and picked up her fork. She ate her salad, sniffing back her tears as she sighed and looked at him again. He looked at her and smiled with a wink and she smiled back.

“So, have all the items from this room become a mess in another room?” she asked teasingly.

He shook his head and smiled. “Surprisingly, I actually put things away. Well, it’s..contained.”

“Ahhh,” she said, reaching over to steal a piece of his sandwich. “That’s the Mulder I know.” She shoved the food in her mouth and they both smiled at each other again.

As they finished their food and cleaned up, he told her he had put the car seat in his car, and she wanted to see how he did it when he put the base in her car. They took the base out to her car and he set it in for her. He took the car seat from his car and put it in hers and she was impressed with the ease of it. He took the seat out and brought it back in the house, setting it in the living room.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked at him, up the stairs, and then back to him. He smiled and nodded and she clapped in excitement as they began to walk up the stairs.

Stopping in front of the baby’s door, she waited for him. He looked at her with a smirk as she raised her eyebrow at him. He put his hand on the door and stared at her harder, until she closed her eyes, knowing what he wanted.

He opened the door and stepped inside and over to the side. He could see her, but was not in her way of seeing the room. She stayed in the doorway waiting, until he told her to open her eyes. He kept his eyes on her face and he was not disappointed. She gasped and tried to look everywhere all at once, stepping into the room, saying nothing as she looked all over with tears in her eyes.

“Oh my god, Mulder..” she said quietly, walking over to him and grazing her hand down his chest.

She walked over to the changing table and looked at it and then the picture hanging over it. She looked at him and gave him a shaky smile. She walked over to the crib and smiled at the sheet he picked and ran her hands over the blanket hanging on the rail, smiling again as she touched it. She turned and looked at the shadow box, picking it up and holding it in her hands. She ran her fingers lightly over the glass and he could see tears on her cheeks.

“Mulder..” she whispered, as she set it down and continued looking around the room.

She touched the lamp on the bookcase, looked at the stuffed animals and the books, and she smiled as she shook her head. She sat in the rocking chair and closed her eyes as she put her feet up and rocked. He smiled as he watched her with her hands on her belly, rocking their baby inside her body. She opened her eyes and saw him watching her and she smiled at him. He crossed his arms and grinned at her as she put her head back again, closing her eyes and smiling.

He waited, happy to watch her relax and enjoy this moment. She sighed and put her feet down, beginning to stand up, and he came over and to help her. She stared at him and smiled, starting to step forward when the pictures on the wall by the rocking chair caught her eye. She stared at the drawings of Evaline, looking at them both, and then she gasped, turning to him.

“Evaline?” she said in disbelief. “Evaline the Brave? Oh, Mulder..” She stepped a little closer and looked at them. She touched the drawing of his mother’s and looked at him.

“Your mother drew this?” she asked. At his nod, she sighed and shook her head. “She’s beautiful.”

He heard tears in her voice, as she moved to the one Samantha had drawn and she laughed with a sob at the end, touching this one as well. When she looked at him, she had tears on her cheeks again.

“Where in the world did you find these? Have they been in your desk all this time and you forgot?” she asked him, stepping toward him.

“No,” he said, stepping back, letting her pass by the footstool. “Scully, they were in that box from your mom’s house. I remember some of the other papers being at my apartment, but I don’t remember these particular ones. I have no idea how they got there. I’m going with, it was your mom. Always watching out for me. A piece of my past for our present and future. Maggie Scully. The patron saint of hopefulness and love.”

Scully began to cry and he held her close. She wrapped her arms around him and he felt her crying against him. Looking at the drawings, thinking of the box he found them in, he knew somehow those items were destined to be saved and kept by Mrs. Scully.

Without knowing the importance and happiness they would bring, she put them in a box, labeled it, and stored it for them. She kept his memories safe until he could share them with Scully and their child. He closed his eyes and thanked her for the millionth time. For being the person she was and for creating the person he loved.

Scully pulled back and wiped her eyes, laying her head against his chest for a moment, before leaning back and looking at him. He stroked her face and she closed her eyes.

She let go of him and stepped back. She sighed and then noticed the pictures on the dresser. She smiled and laughed at them as she stepped closer to look at them. She picked up the one of her looking at him, his favorite, and she smiled. She looked over at him and he saw the same look on her face; so much love in that look.

She put the picture back, looking around the room again, shaking her head and smiling. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He held her and laid his head on hers, kissing her head as he did. She was so quiet as they stood there, he could hear every breath she took.

They stood together, holding on to one another. Happiness and love seemed to pour from them, from the care put into creating this room, and the love that would continue to grow in the future.

______________________________________________

Mulder being excited and happy to show off what he has done for Scully makes me so happy. I love writing him so sweet and wonderful. He is a romantic and I know he would love getting ready for their baby.

[pixelgrotto]

Remixing a tomb plus a highway to hell

Last month I finished DMing Tomb of Annihilation for one of my D&D groups. It’s a campaign that sees heroes adventuring to the land of Chult to stop big bad lich Acererak, who’s made a device known as the Soulmonger that’s emanating a Death Curse and screwing up the world’s resurrection magic. It’s also a spiritual successor to Tomb of Horrors, one of the classic deathtrap dungeons of tabletop RPG history that came about because D&D creator Gary Gygax wanted to screw his players over for opening doors wrong. In short, it’s certainly one of the more memorable adventures for D&D 5e, but the version of Tomb of Annihilation that I ran for my players was actually extremely remixed and hacked apart, as is the case with every official Wizards of the Coast module that I run. 

There were a few reasons for this - my players were coming into this campaign fresh out of Curse of Strahd, and everyone was level 8. One of the players had died early on in Curse of Strahd - in the very first session we played, hilariously enough - and was temporarily sustained by the mists of the Shadowfell only to collapse upon returning to the material plane. With this in mind, I felt that it would be a great twist to have the party venture on a quest of resurrection only to learn that resurrection magic throughout the world had stopped working due to Acererak’s nefarious plans.

Additionally, I wanted to give my players the chance to try out alternate characters if they so desired. In the name of grand ambition, I decided to have my players create two sets of characters, and wove a homebrew story, dubbed “Fiends in Waterdeep,” that would run analogous to and eventually intertwine with Tomb of Annihilation. The first set of characters - consisting of some of the veterans who had survived Curse of Strahd - would investigate the streets of Waterdeep, which was suffering from an invasion of devils and demons that seemed unconnected to Acererark’s dark doings. The second set, consisting of new level 8s, would venture to Chult, the vaguely African-inspired landmass in the south of the Forgotten Realms, to track down the source of the Death Curse. After progressing through seemingly unconnected storylines, at the end of the campaign the disparate plot threads would mesh. The Waterdeep explorers would travel to the Nine Hells only to learn that the fiend invasion was caused by the abduction of the Queen of Hell’s newly born infant - a soul-devouring mass of flesh that could open portals into other worlds with its burps and farts - while the Chult expedition would delve into the jungle to find Acererark, smash the Soulmonger and free the aforementioned child. 

In short, I basically made a complicated D&D adventure even more complicated by layering my own story on top of it and running two campaigns at once. I think I was looking for a challenge, and oh boy, I got one. I probably won’t be undertaking something like this ever again, because it required a lot of planning hurdles on my part. For instance, my players and I usually gamed for about 5-6 hours at most, which meant devoting 2 and a half or 3 hours to both sets of characters. If one battle lasted too long or a social interaction went south, I’d have to adjust this timeframe accordingly, and every DM knows that players will always defy your expectations in one way or another, so there was a lot of improv on the fly to make sure that our sessions stayed well-paced. 

In the name of pacing, I also stripped much of the fat out of Tomb of Annihilation, which is largely composed of a really long hexcrawl. D&D 5e’s hexcrawl exploration and survival rules have never been particularly good, in my opinion, and the rules in the book expect you to roll LOTS of random encounters and deal with stuff like inclement weather, mosquito attacks, hunting, getting lost, etc. I incorporated some of this stuff (the hunting, since we had two rangers in the party), but I pre-rolled all of the random encounters and potential locations the party could go ahead of time, getting rid of some of the ones I didn’t like, and largely handwaved stuff like getting hopelessly lost. Reddit explorations have revealed that by far and large, everyone running this campaign does the same thing - particularly for higher level players trying to get through the jungle without feeling like they’re wasting time. (And from my firsthand experience with Out of the Abyss, there’s nothing worse than going through multiple D&D sessions and feeling like you haven’t accomplished much.)

My approach to streamlining Acererak’s deathtrap lair at the end of the campaign was similar. I skimmed through the entire dungeon with all of its bajillion floors (which could take an average group months to get through) in favor of using the 10 rooms that I liked the most, which was more than enough. Tomb of Annihilation, while probably fairer than Gary Gygax’s Tomb of Horrors, is still in my opinion full of wacky stuff in the final dungeon that just isn’t my cup of tea for D&D, including one trap that can get characters stuck in real-world Victorian London. (Okay, that’s cool on paper, but to actually run it as a DM, especially when your players are in the final hours of their adventure? I’ll pass.)

Additionally, I made Ras Nsi - the warlord-turned-yuan-ti - into more of a developed NPC who was actually willing to help the players slay Acererak. In the book, he’s very much a Darth Maul-type bad guy who looks cool but has a minimum of characterization. This is because Tomb of Annihilation leans into the stereotype that Ras Nsi and the rest of the yuan-ti are all merciless bastards with inscrutable plans, and while this may be fine if you’re familiar with the Conan the Barbarian serpentfolk tropes that inspired the yuan-ti, it’s not great if you’re trying to build a believable world with compelling characters. Much has been written about how Chult stumbles at portraying a fantasy Africa - largely by depicting the characters as foreign saviors and the Chultans as relatively helpless - and while some of this was alleviated in my game by the fact that one player’s character actually was Chultan, I still felt it was necessary to give some of the indigenous races a chance to help undo the curse that, after all, was first and foremost affecting their land.

Switching gears, when it came to the accompanying Fiends in Waterdeep homebrew story, I recycled some material from Waterdeep: Dragon Heist, which I’d previously run for two different groups, and also took inspiration from the Wizards of the Coast module Descent into Avernus. At the time of planning, Descent Into Avernus was the most recent D&D hardcover, and all the reviews I’d read painted it as cool in concept but a major pain in the butt to run in reality. So, I decided to use only the nifty bits - a journey into the first layer of the Nine Hells via Mad Max-style tanks powered by souls - and mixed it with my own tale that was influenced by a profile of Fury, the dragon queen of hell, that I’d read in the third-party 5e supplement Legendary Dragons. It turned into a mildly amusing story about Fury warring against her ex-husband Asmodeus, and the players ended up serving as therapists in what amounted to an interplanar lover’s spat. I’d recently started therapy when I came up with the campaign concept, so this is probably one of those unique instances where real life truly influenced art. And hey, the unpredictable whims of all-powerful, world-shaping deities make for great adventure hooks, and judging by how Greek mythology seems to have re-entered the modern zeitgeist these days (I’m thinking about Hades, one of the most popular indie rougelikes out there, as well as that Netflix series Blood of Zeus) it seems like I was on the nose!

In the end, this two-tiered campaign lasted roughly 70 hours and climaxed with all sets of characters reaching level 10. Acererark’s Soulmonger was smashed, the feud between Fury and Asmodeus smoothed over, and after enduring the eerie mists of the Shadowfell, the hot temperatures of Chult and the flames of Avernus, the story of these motley players - who’d started questing with me back in 2018, and endured a move to online games in the era of COVID - came to a gentle end. I’m a believer in the reality that campaigns don’t necessarily need to last forever, and with real life throwing some of my players (and myself) a few recent curveballs, this seemed like a solid finale point. A consistent campaign running over two years is in many ways a dream for a lot of D&D players and DMs, and I’m glad I got the chance to make it happen.

[hellyeahheroes]

Building Gwen Poole in D&D 5e

Hey, guess who just got told my company is not working next week. Well, let’s celebrate by doing another D&D build, I had lately few ideas, including a character that makes me smile, unless she is making me feel bad for her

Let me quickly list the Goals for this build. First of all, we need to be able to enter Whitespace, cross beyond panel borders and then back. Second, we need to have knowledge only someone from real world entering a fantasy one could have. Finally, we need to summon Gwens from previous books to aid us. And one more for me is to not make this identical to Tulok the Barbarian’s Deadpool build, since the man already been an inspiration so much for these posts. Which will be hard since Gwen does lend herself well to similiar combination of two classes, spoiler alert.

As always, Ability Scores will be determiend by Standard points Array of 15, 14, 13, 12, 10 and 8, if you or your DM prefer point buy or rolls, go ahead and treat these as guidelines.

Strength: 10, we really don’t need it but Gwen carries a lot of weapons around so I cannot give this an 8

Dexterity: 14, despite the big boots I really doubt your suit is a medium armor, what with those bare legs and all.

Constitution: 13, hit points aren’t meat points and you survive in dangerous situations just fine.

Intelligence: 12, you are well-read in world of your heroes

Wisdom: 8,  you let Ms. Marvel convince you you’re an enteirly different species and your life is a lie and you also tried dating Quentin freaking Quire.

Charisma: 15, people like you and even if they don’t believe your claams of being from another world, they’ll likely dismiss them with a heartfelt laughter than trying to book you a psychologist appointment.

Now for Race, I hinted I don’t believe the “Gwen is a mutant” retcon so I’m going with Variant Human. If you think everything must be a mutant now, then go with any Aasimar or Half-Elf. Variant Humans get to be bitter about X-Men, add +1 to two Ability Scores, go with Charisma and Constitution, gain one free language and one free Skill, pick History since you know it because you’re a human from our world, and a feat. Crossbow Expert lets you ignore loading quality of crossbows, let’s you shoot creatures within 5 feet of you without a disadvantage and make an attack with a loaded crossbow as a bonus action after you hit a foe with a one-handed weapon attack. Crossbows are easy to reskin as guns but be warned that this does not turn a crossbow into an automated gun - you still need a hand to reload the crossbow after every shot, which now counts as a part of your attack, but requires a free hand. Which means you cannot wield two crossbows or fire more than one shot in a single round without a free hand. It could be fixed with some Artificer levels but we’re not doing that here, so make sure you’re on good terms with Riri Williams if you want to shoot two guns or use gun and a blade in an accord.

For Background, Far Traveller is someone who came from far, far away and you are literally from real world. You get Insight and Perception proficiency, can pick any free language of choice and one musical instrument or gaming tool and world has All Eyes On You - people notice you’re not from around and take interest in you.

Time to go with Class Levels

1st Level: We’ll kick things off as a Bard, letting gets to be proficient in any 3 skills, let’s go with Persuasion, Deception and Acrobatics. You are also proficient with Dexterity and Charisma saving throws, light armor, shields, simple weapons, hand crossbows, longswords, rapiers, shortswords and three musical instruments of your choice. 

You also get Bardic Inspiration, giving you a number of d6 dices equal to your Charisma modifier per long rest that you can hand over to someone that they can add to any ability check, attack roll, or saving throw that they make in the next 10 minutes. They can do it after they roll but before DM declares result of the roll. So you can now cheer on your heroes while fighting alongside them.

Bards are also spellcasters. You get to know a number of spells and have a number of spell slots per long rest that you can spend to cast them and if you cast one from higher level spell slot, it will be stronger. You learn more spells as you advance but cannot know a spell of level higher than highest spell slot you can use. You also get Cantrips which you can cast always and scale with your level, getting stronger at 5th, 11th and 17th character level. If a spell requires you to make an attack roll you sum up your Proficiency Bonus and your Charisma modifier to add to the roll. And if you add 8 to those two values you get your Save Difficulty, which a creature has to beat if your spell forces them to make a saving throws.

A Bard starts with two Cantrips and 4 known spells

Vicious Mockery is a staple for Bards, it lets you mock someone so bad, they must make a Wisdom saving throw or take 1d4 psychic damage and have a distadvantage on next attack roll they make before end of its next turn.

Message is a spell functioning as a magic phone, letting you send a short message to someone within the range and then can make a short reply.

Identify lets you see if you recognize an item as something you once read in a comic book - it tells you if the item is magical, magic-imbued, what magical properties it has or what spells are affecting it, how to use it, if it requires attunment and how many charges it has.

Tasha’s Hideous Laughter makes you tell a joke that forces the target to make a Wisdom Saving Throw or fall prone and be incapitated and unable to stand up due to overwhelming laughter. Target gets another save at end of each of its turns or a save with an advantage whenever someone deals damage to it.

2nd Level: We stick to Bard to gain 2nd-Level feature Jack of All Trades, letting you add half of your Proficiency modifier to all skills you are not proficient with. You also gain Song of Rest, letting you play some music when your team is resting and rolling hit dice to regain hitpoints, letting everyone roll an additional 1d6. I don’t think it is a power per se that Gwen has, but could totally see her try to cheer up her friends and heroes.

And speaking of cheering up, you get one new spell - Heroism let’s you instill the bravery in one willing creature, making it immune to being frightened and on each of its turns letting them gain temporary hit points equal your Charisma modifier. Again, Hit Points can represent someone’s luck or will to fight so if you see Batroc having a hard time against Captain America, you can cheer him up to keep fighting. I mean, you would but you like Cap too, so maybe hope Batroc fights Taskmaster or something?

3rd Level: And it’s still a Bard, on 3rd Level gaining admission to something Gwen never got in real life - a college. Bardic College, to be more specific. I was thinking of College of Satire but really, College of Lore fits our needs much better. You gain profficiency with three more skills, I’d go with Athletics, Stealth and Sleight of Hand. Since all bards also gain Expertise, letting you choose two skills for which your Proficiency Bonus is doubled, use it on Athletics and Perception which depend on two lowest Ability Scores you have.

Your spell for the level is Invisibility, which lets you skip through eniemies you don’t feel like fighting, we can refluff this as early “slipping out” to the whitespace, but some creatures can still see you and you are “pulled back” (read: made visible) if you try to interact with something or attack anyone. 

College of Lore also gets Cutting Words, which lets you say something that spooks or confuses a creature. Mechanically it lets you use your Inspiration die the opposite way they are normally used, letting you roll to subtract from attack roll, saving throw or an ability check.

I mean, that’s basically how it works

4th Level: Still sticking with the Bard for an Ability Score Improvement, go for your Charisma, since not only your spells but also Bardic Inspiration relies on it.

You also get a new spell and a new Cantrip

Prestidigitation lets you make a number of smaller effects you can play as you messing around with Whitespace. Knock let’s you unlock one nonmagical lock on door or an object. Maybe play it as you “skipping” the door through Whitespace or cutting out to when the object is already unlocked?

5th Level: Surprise, surprise, it is still Bard. 5th Level mostly improves Bardic Inspriation - now it uses d8s and you regain them on a short rest as well. You also gain the access to 3rd level spell - Nondetection can make you or someone else immune on being spied by magical means for 8 hours. Situational? Yes. But something Gwen can do as a person capable of walking out of the reality where people like Doctor Strange or Professor X cannot find her? Very. You can also use it on objects. 

6th Level: Bar...oh hey, we’re doing Fighter now. 1st Level fighter gains proficiencies with light and medium armor and martial weapons as well as Second Wind, letting you once per short rest as a bonus action regain 1d10+your Fighter level hit points. You also get to choose a Fighting Style - Archery grants Gwen +2 to ranged weapon attacks.

ALTERNATIVES: As you can see, I decided to do Gwen as someone gun-toting, if you’d rather her use a sword then picking Defensive Duelist at first level and Dueling style now. Mind you, you need to have a free hand for spellcasting so unless you take a War Caster feat (which is also an option) you cannot duel-wield either sword and crossbow (which would also require sacrificing your Ability Score Improvement for Crossbow Expert) or two swords and use many of your abilitties. On a side note, Gwen is also profficient now with heavy Crossbow, so you can use that as a shotgun.

7th level: 2nd Level Fighter gets Action Surge, letting you once per Short rest gain an extra Standard Action

8th Level: 3d Level Fighter gains a Martial Achertype. I was thinking which one Gwen would choose. Wade went with a Champion but we don’t want Gwen to be exactly like him even if we’re already mixing two of the same classes Tulok did. I have a better pick. Gwen is suppsoed to represent the modern fandom that jumped into comics during New 10s, right? If that’s the case then, without streotyping here, we should ask ourselves what would likely be her possible gateway to D&D.

Echo Knight has been introduced in Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount, the world designed by Matt Mercer for his Critical Role games. You can use your bonus action to Manifest Echo, letting you pull an echo of yourself from another timeline or, in your case, another book you were in. This Gwen has AC 14+ your Proficiency modifier, 1 hit point and immunity to all conditions, uses your saving throws and you command her to moves on your turn. She vanishes if she dies, you’re incapitated, you dismiss her, summon another Gwen or find yourself more than 30 feet away from her. 

As a bonus action you can  sacrifice 15 feet of your movement to swap places with other Gwen, you can choose if your attacks originate from your position or her and you can use your reaction to have her make an opportunitty attack if an opponnent would trigger one. And a number of times equal your Constitution Modifier per Long rest you can make her take an extra attack as a part of your attack action with Unleash Incarnation.

Now, to get third Gwen we would need 18 levels of Echo Knight, but we would lose or all other abilitties about Whitespace then. Instead I suggest you circle through Gwens, as it seems that Echo Knight can summon an Echo as many times as they feel like, just not at once. 

9th Level: 4th Level Fighter gets an Ability Score Improvement, Round up your Charisma

10th Level: 5th Level Fighter gains an Extra Attack, letting you attack twice as a part of the same action. Meaning you can make up to seven attacks with Action Surge, two uses of Unleash Incarnation and Crossbow Expert, provided you’re having a free hand. Unless DM allows it I do not think you can have other Gwen reload your guns, so all problems of Crossbow Expert still apply. Dual Wielding meele or mixed meele and ranged Gwen would get to the same level of attacks.

11th Level: 6th Level Fighter gets another Ability Score Improvement, start focusing on your Dexterity - even a meele Gwen is better off using finesse weapons and it adds to your AC.

12th Level: The Bard returns! 6th level Bard learns Countercharm, letting you use your action to give everyone you consider friendly an advantage on saving throws against being frightened or charmed - I guess it’s Gwen cheering other heroes up more or warning them she read about the baddie they’re facing and he has mind altering powers

You also get one more spell. It is sad we are behind with the spells...or are we? College of Lore Bard can gain Magical Secrets - a Bardic feature we will gain later as well, but this is an additional one and early. It lets you add two spells from any spell list to your spells known, as long as they’re on a level you can cast. Unlike the standard Bard version we will get later, the two spells we get now do not count to our maximum of spells know. Meaning we get three new spells

Tongues will let you read world baloons translated to English for the American readers and apparently let you add translation to  your own dialogues for an hour.

Blink lets you roll at the end of each of your turns and if you get 11 or higher you slip into Whitespace a.k.a. Etheral Plane and reappear in space no more than 10 feet away from where you were at the beginning of your next turn. When you are in whitespace you cannot be attacked or interacted with creatures on material plane. It is not as powerful as in Pathfinder but still - don’t cheat on this, don’t be an asshole and if you are pray you never see a spider.

Fireball is your grenade/rocket launcher. Creatures within range are dealt 8d6 fire damage, half on a succesful Dexterity saving throw.

13th and 14th level: 7th level Bard gains an acess to 4th level spells and 8th Level bard gains an Ability Score Improvement, invest in Dexterity again. I’m doing the two together since each gives you one more spell too add:

Dimension Door lets you teleport anywhere with range of 500 feet, as long as you can see, visualize or know the area. You can bring anything up to your carrying capacity and one creature also carrying no more than its maximum with you. However, if another creature occupies the selected space, you run into it and get knocked back through Whitespace, taking 4d6 force damage.

Greater Invisibility works like Invisibility, but now you can take things with you or attack until it ends naturally. Play it as you slipping in and out of Whitespace.

15th Level: 9th Level Bard gets to improve Song of Rest, now using a 1d8 instead of 1d6. And you gain access to 5th level spells. Legend Lore is a spell seemingly tailor-made for a fangirl - you can gain (or in your case, recall that you’ve read) knowledge about specific person, object or location. It may be vague, the more you already know the better results. This lets you put fun in your fangirl...wait.

16th Level: 10th Level Bard improves Bardic Inspriation dice to d10s, gains Expertise in two more Skills, I’d go with History and Persuasion, and learns one more cantrip and Magical Secrets - this works like before but these spells count to your maximum of spells know.

Blade Wards grants you until end of your next turn resistance agaisnt bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from weapon attacks. Your armor is at best light, this may help if you want to go into meele.

Banishment let’s you force a creature to make a Charisma saving throw or let you send them into Whitespace. They get to come back like Paste Pot Pete did after it ends, but if they’re not from this plane and if you don’t break your concentration for one minute, they’re banished for good.

Banishing Smite is similiar - next time you hit a creature with a weapon attack, and it does not specify it must be a meele attack, you deal it extra 5d10 force damage and if you reduce it to 50 or less hit points, you send them to the Whitespace. There is no save, but there is no chance to keep target permamently out. Either spell still can save lives against tough enemies.

17th Level: 11th Level Bard learns to cast 6th level Spells, but I don’t see any so we will grab one more from 5th level - Scrying let’s you poke through Whitespace to find a person and observe them and their activities. They get a Wisdom saving throw to resist being spied on, I guess trying to reassert that their current narrative place is off-page. The better you know them and better materials connecting to them you have, the harder resisting your prying eyes gets. Just please don’t use it to stalk your friends, okay?

18th Level: 12th Level Bard gets last Ability Score Improvement, round up your Dexterity.

19th Level: 13th Level Bard improves Song of Rest to 1d10 and gains access to 7th level Spells. Etherialness lets you just hop to the Whitespace...I mean, Etherial Plane, for up to 8 hours, effectively saving you from an encounter if you would die othertwise. It let’s you regroup, regain your strength, plan ahead, move away or even bypass whole area, effectively skipping to different pages, and doesn’t require concentration to do it.

20th Level: And we wrap things up with 14th Level of Bard. College of Lore grants you Pearless Skill, letting you now use Bardic Inspiration on your own rolls. You also get two more Magical Secrets

Delayed Blast Fireball is a bomb - you put on a fireball in a place. Any creature that touches it must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw to be able to throw it in a different place. Whenever they suceed or not, it explodes anyway, same if your spell ends or you break concentration. It deals 12d6 fire damage plus an extra 1d6 for each of your turn that ended without it detonating, half on a succesful Dexterity Saving Throw.

Plane Shift lets you and up to 8 creatures move to a different plane of existence, meaning you can now team-up with Squirrel Girl to kick Mephisto’s butt. Teleport could be more useful as it let’s you move within a single plane, but then you don’t get to freak Squirrel Girl out by pointing there is no reason someone isn’t punching the devil in the face at all times.

Overview: So this is how I’d do Gwenpool - College of Lore Bard 14/Echo Knight Fighter 6. Let’s see how valid this build is

Pros: You have a pretty decent amount of hit points, somewhere around 160 on average, while having multiple ways to avoid damage. You are a good utility caster with multiple ways to gather information or scout ahead and you have a pretty good array of skills on top of that, making you a good use for non-combat situations. You also have pretty good mobility options, letting you move as you wish across the battlefield. Finally, whenever you picked meele or ranged options, you can dish out a lot of attacks if needed, or even blast out some foes.

Cons: Your Constitution is mediocre, meaning your Concentration and use of Unleash Incarnation could be better. Second, your spell selection is somewhat situational, some of the options we took may not always be useful, even if they are in character. Third, your Wisdom saving throw is horrible so charming, frightening or just Hold Person will be your bane. Finally, you do not have any ways of dealing magical damage, unless your DM throws a magic rapier and/or crossbow your way and your fireballs deal fire damage, which many creatures are resistant or even immune to.

However overall you are able to fill or support in multiple roles, from scout to party face to damage dealer to information gatherer, which makes you great to have. Remember, however, that this is not one-person show and you work better as a part of a team.

For example

-Admin