#insert adventure time liche here

[ghostjelliess]

Philo wiped his hands over worn jeans and picked the dirt from his nails in the quiet morning light, sighing at the gravestone where his own name had once been. The weathered rock was hardly unique in the centuries-old graveyard, surrounded by equally decrepit thin markers sinking into the ground at odd angles like rotting teeth. The only intact memorial in the Olde Burial Ground was the uncanny mausoleum that crowned the hill, too ornate not to have a history, but far too old for the people of Belle’s Hollow to remember what it was.

continue reading on ghostjellies.com

[jev-urisk]

OOPS, I dropped my laptop and Kazimier X Reader smut fell out! 😮 🌶 

Fang Kink | Monster X Human | World of 🌐7 Circles🌐

I sure hope the two people who voted for this on my poll don't find it~

And I don't know what I would do if @monstersflashlight knew they inspired me to post my smut directly on Tumblrrr....~

Notice: 18+ interacts only. Explicit sex, Ungendered reader insert, alcohol consumption, references to blood, author unable to resist worldbuilding

[Part 1/2]

You’ve been keeping a secret for a couple months now.

As a human, you’re not allowed into the monster empire, you’re supposed to live your measly life outside its borders in the Outlands. If you ever were to venture into the dark claws of Du’Preve, the closest monster district to your human settlement, you would be executed or worse if they discovered you weren’t one of them.

So you’ve taken extra care not to be discovered.

You could never pass as a vampire, with their red eyes and sharp teeth- nevermind a gorgon or gargoyle. But Liches… those looked just like humans until they put too many magic runes on themselves. A little black paint, and some inspiration from a Lich warning poster in your area, and viola, TOTALLY not a human.

Thus far, you’ve hopped the border just to look around for a little while. Du’Preve has some kind of strange curse over it that dims the sun, even at high noon it seems like late evening. You LOVED it. Something about it made you feel alive- you always did have more energy at night and it was a wonder to experience it at 2pm.

You would walk the dirty streets, trying not to stare as you passed people with hissing hair, barking owners of strange market stands, and old rune-riddled liches mumbling incoherently in the gutters.

You also tried very hard not to squint, to act like you weren’t used to the perpetual darkness. You’d overheard monsters spit that word onto the pavement, ‘Squints.’ ‘Damn Squints,’ ‘Filch-beggin’ no good fuckin’ Squints.’

It has the same other-ness that ‘Fang-Banger’ has back home, a term that’s spat at anyone who gets cozy with a monster, even when it’s not the person’s fault.

You might get called that just for visiting Du’Preve, honestly.

But no one back home knows about your adventures, just as no monster knows what you really are. It’s been working so well that on today’s trip into darkness, you decide to do something a little different.

Du’Preve was known to host all kinds of escapism- drugs, whores, alcohol, you name it. But the most interesting to you were the parties and the clubs that hosted them. Last time you were here you overheard talk of one club in particular, The Club Lascivia, where patrons are generally safe from gang involvement and getting drinks spiked by malicious strangers.

You had gone through what few Du’Preve-looking outfits you had, needing something to wear to a club- eventually settling for something skimpier than you’d usually wear in your excitement to dance the night- or the day, away. You slip through your settlement in an old cloak which you leave at the border, soon arriving at your destination- by all appearances just another monster looking to party.

The scene was electric, with colored lights and dirty music that hummed beneath your skin. You moved between the dance floor, enjoying yourself with your heart racing at how close you were to the monstrous patrons, and simply watching the crowd from the safety of a booth, seeing for the first time how human these monsters really were.

In the booth next to you were two gargoyles, their stone-colored wings slightly unfolded to give a sense of privacy as they gossiped about a third gargoyle between flustered giggles.

You see a male gorgon leaning too close to a disinterested woman at the bar and after a few heated words she throws her drink in his face, causing his snakes to curl back with a hiss.

On the dancefloor you watch a little lich flirting with a stunning vampire, dancing so close, rubbing against one another. The vampire brushes closed lips against the lich’s throat in a dangerous tease and you shiver unexpectedly, drawn to the tantalizing threat.

Hot.

Wait- ‘hot’? What are you thinking?! Are you.. a fang-banger? No but you haven’t-

Before you can really parse out your thoughts, you notice a man approaching your booth with a couple of drinks.

He’s in a leather jacket that he hasn’t bothered to zip up over his fishnet shirt, allowing you to see the shape of his hips and the toned ‘v’ of his pelvis peaking up over a studded belt and artfully ripped jeans.

He stops a pace or so away from you, looking at you through tinted glasses as the lights of the club backlight his mane of curly black hair. Something about the way he looks at you makes you flush. He smiles, as if he knows what you’re feeling, and you see fangs glinting in his smirk.

“Mind if I join ya?" He asks in this brassy yet silken voice.

“Yes.” you find yourself saying, “-You can join me, that is.”

“ ‘Preciate it.” he says, and as he sits a strange thrill buzzes through your skull. “Here, for your hospitality.”

He sets a tall drink garnished with a twist of orange in front of you and your voice of reason momentarily returns. Was this safe to drink? You didn’t see the drink made, so it’s possible this was a sexy trap to lure you into a surprise kidney removal or something, right? You rotate the glass, as if somehow that would help you tell if it was spiked.

As you’re grappling with how to politely refuse the cocktail, his hand and its many rings brushes against yours and he plucks your glass off the table to take a deep drink, smiling as he catches the look on your face.

He sets it back in front of you with about a third less liquid in it and leans back, his arms draping across the top of the plush seating. “You’re smart not to trust a stranger, but I don’t get my kicks at this club from unwilling participants.” he teases, not unkind, but with a hint of what those kicks may be, “Go on then.” he urges, looking at you, not the drink. “If you want it.. It’s here for you.”

You had never been propositioned quite like this. His air was pushy, dominant, forceful even. But in his words and relaxed posture he invited you to walk away. What if you did? He might chuckle as you excuse yourself with a scarlet blush.. but you don’t think he’d follow.

What if you didn’t?

In a streak of boldness you look him in the eye and pick up your drink, draining it entirely as you stare him down. You were a human with enough gall to sneak into monster territory, after all.

“Moxie.” he praises with a quirk of his brow. It crosses your mind that you’re impressing a monster with your bravery and you feel tipsy off that alone. He licks one of his fangs and you can’t take your eyes off him. You think to the vampire on the dance floor and wonder what it feels like to have those sharp teeth on your skin.. on your lips..

“Now that you're done with your drink, you wanna taste of somethin’ else?” He asks, and you blush at his ability to seemingly read your thoughts.

What.. What should you say? Obviously you were getting hot and bothered here but to do anything physical with a person from Du'Preve, to willingly walk into his grasp, that was a much much bigger taboo than taking yourself on a little adventure across the border now and again.

You feel a light touch on your wrist, the man has moved in the semicircular booth to sit beside you. “Hey now..” the man soothes, his fingers barely resting on your skin. “You can be nervous, moxie, or anythin’ between. If we do somethin’ I just need you to want it.”

Your voice comes out as a whisper, anxious and daring all at once. “I want it.”

[PART 2]

7C taglist:

@gioiaalbanoart @biblicallyaccuratefruitbat @katenewmanwrites @pencilpusher1000 @lychhiker-writes @autism-purgatory @wyked-ao3 @cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @smellyrottentrees @fortunatetragedy @aalinaaaaaa @the-golden-comet @urbiggestfan-01 @quillswriting @nbkuhn @ddgraywrites (hmu to be =/- to the list)

[bug-decal-kissing]

Hey friends!

Lots of works today ! I had to separate them into two posts again :]/pos. First ten will be here, and the rest will be in a reblog !!

Come Earn A Place in My Heart, by biteof22, was updated today, with 3/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Slow Burn, this. is THE Slow Burn i have ever written, Unresolved Tension, Denial of Feelings, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Office, less office au and more Auditor!Prismo but human tomfooleries, Involuntary Teamwork, Mutual Pining"

You can read it here:

A new work, either we are alone in this universe or we are not by VioletThePorama was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Roleswap, jobswap, Wishmaster Scarab, God Auditor Prismo, Blackmail, Loneliness, Scarab summons Prismo to the Time Room, to be like wtf man, pointing to unauthorized universe 'whats that''a smoothie' prismo replies, Character Study"

You can read it here:

A new work, in a dream, are all the characters really you? by word_dissociation was published today, with 2/? Chapters released! It has a rating of General Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Story within a Story, Character Study, eaauhhh kind of, Existential Crisis, Enemies to Lovers, kind of. the enemies thing is mostly scarab, the most incoherent philosphoical roommate discussions ever, Dreams, maybe !, Other Additional Tags to Be Added"

You can read it here:

A new work, I'll Never Say Sorry But You Know I'll Always Feel It by Rachrar was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, You can fit so much misery in this guy (Prismo), Existential Crisis, Scarab learns that Prismo doesn't actually have it all that great, Post-Canon"

You can read it here:

Seraphyllic, by Drakian_DH, was updated today, with 11/20 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and Graphic Depictions Of Violence, and Major Character Death, with additional tags "scarab the god auditor - Freeform, prismo the wishmaster - Freeform, Priscrab, ProhibitedWish, Scrabby, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, no beta we get turned to legos like the lich, Adventure & Romance, Story within a Story, Eventual Happy Ending, Maybe - Freeform, Author Is Sleep Deprived, The Author Regrets Nothing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, You gotta work for the comfort, begining poem important, each chapter a word, prepare"

You can read it here:

Slay the Wizard, by Anonymous, was updated today, with 3/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and Graphic Depictions Of Violence, and Major Character Death, with additional tags "not really a crossover, Multiple Endings, Breaking the Fourth Wall, kind of, How Do I Tag, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Scarab as the narrator, Seriously I don’t know how to tag this, might expand more on this, POV Second Person, Out of Character, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Enemies to Lovers, possibly, Time Loop, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Possession, original characters as in the totally not self inserts of scarab and kinda prismo, POV Alternating"

You can read it here:

NSFW works are below the cut :].

A new work, Figuring Things Out by heirozphant was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Office AU, technically. because its related, Human AU, t4t, Fingering, Under-negotiated Kink, Omorashi, its. sigh. its a piss fic okay?"

You can read it here:

The Ghostwriter, by Irina_94, was updated today, with 2/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Mature and No Archive Warnings Apply, with additional tags "Alternate Universe - Human, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Prismo needs a huge, References to Depression, Anxiety, Grief/Mourning, Trigger warnings when necessary"

You can read it here:

Grating, by ineedlemonade, was updated today, with 3/5 Chapters released! It has a rating of Mature and Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, with additional tags "Short & Sweet, Violent Thoughts, Caretaking, Denial of Feelings, Feelings, Introspection, Dialogue Light, Old Age, Light Angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Beta Read, Dehumanization, Unresolved Tension, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Hair Brushing, Past Neglect, Bathing/Washing, Resentment, Jealousy, POV Alternating, Unrequited Crush, Complicated Relationships, platonic crush"

You can read it here:

Pinned, by TJade, was updated today, with 2/2 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and Graphic Depictions Of Violence, and Rape/Non-con, with additional tags "Rape Roleplay, Humiliation, Sadism, Masochism, Consensual Non-Consent, Rape Fantasy, Painplay"

You can read it here:

[huntinglove]

Made myself another self insert for Adventure Time!! This one is in love with The Lich!! Here's some info about them:

Name: Elysia Age: ??? Pronouns: They/She Height: 5'7" ft / 170cm Species: Poltergeist Backstory: Elysia is a poltergeist with unfinished business, their goals can't be achieved since the person they were meant to haunt died before they had the chance to kill them. Being unable to pass into a different plane of death, they stick around Ooo causing mischief and cursing various artifacts, until they learned about The Lich. Since then they've become a devoted "follower" of his and always stay near him, plotting ways to get him to achieve his goal of mass extinction in this universe and others.

[monstersandmaw]

Male draugr/lich x female character - Part One (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

A slight departure from my usual reader inserts for you in this ‘part one’ of a number of chapters. It’s currently a 20k word WIP (as of 15th May 2021 anyway) so if you’d rather wait for the whole thing to be finished, keep an eye on my masterlist, I guess? Otherwise, let me know if you’re enjoying it, and I’ll continue to post it. Thank you very much to those who did express a desire to read it now as a WIP. You’re all superstars.

I really hope you folks like it anyway. I’m oddly nervous about sharing it, since it’s come to be a very special story for me with lots of feels and adventures, but here we are. (Part Two will feature our main character’s two best friends: an enormous werebear and his elven husband, Mythlas).

Content: fantasy-typical violence/threat/sword-fighting, cursed treasure, and (mentioned) a best friend in a critical condition with a serious illness.

Our female adventurer delves deep into a long-forgotten tomb, looking for a mythical amulet that will supposedly save her best friend, who lies back at his farm, clinging to the very edge of life. Exhausted, and outnumbered by swarming draugr, an opportunity for escape presents itself, and she must make a leap of trust on the spur of the moment...

(featuring a shy, bumbling cutie lich, and set in a world that’s basically Skyrim but without direct mention to anything from the game other than a vague ‘dragon priest’ and the term ‘draugr’ (which are Norse zombies/liches anyway).

Wordcount: 6209

Sword drawn, she inched around the corner of the twisting, downward-sloping stone passageway, breath held.

The damp and cold of the tomb had long ago seeped through her clothes and into her skin, slowing her movements and making the fingers of her sword-hand clumsy around the hilt. Her breath fogged in front of her as she slowly released it, and she strained, listening for the shuffling sounds of the undead, stirred from their tombs by her arrival. Perhaps, if the book she’d read on the draugr was to be believed, they rarely slept at all, and wandered the meandering passageways of the old crypts forever, day and night. The book had also said they tended to the tombs, even keeping the spells going over the perpetually-burning, enchanted candles.  

The thought of this network of interconnected tunnels constantly thrumming with the restless undead, like some grim anthill, made her stomach turn over.  

Forcing the nausea down, she inhaled the damp, green smell of the stale air to steady herself. Rising up on either side of her, the rough masonry of the rounded tunnel’s supporting walls glistened in the eerie, ever-present torchlight from brackets on the walls. Here and there the stones turned slick and green with algae, and a rivulet of melting snow trickled down through the mountain along the seams between the colossal blocks of hewn stone supports. Above her, the raw, natural rock of the mountain had been left to form a fairly intimidating ceiling, but beneath her feet, the flat flagstones made her soft-soled boots only a mere whisper away from silent.  

Finally after what felt like an age of dithering at the corner, she stepped out into the room beyond and immediately cursed.

Standing in the centre of the torch-lit space, with eyes blazing an unnatural blue, an emaciated draugr spotted her and snarled at the living intruder wandering this realm of the dead.  

It lumbered towards her on stiff, withered legs, raising an ancient war axe aloft as it moved. It wore the distinctive leather armour of the ancient people who had built these tombs, and although it had to be nigh on a thousand years old, the axe and armour looked in almost perfect condition, while its owner had atrophied away over time to a desiccated husk.  

She ducked low beneath the swing easily enough, and sliced off the creature’s arm before it could go for her a second time, but unlike the three she’d already faced on her descent into the ancient tomb, this one apparently had some magic, because it raised its other arm and blasted a wall of frost magic straight into her face.  

Screeching from the sudden pain and the shock of a face full of tiny ice shards, she floundered and reeled backwards, arm up protectively across her eyes. Her heel caught on an uneven stone and she hit the deck hard on her backside. Winded, another curse escaped her and she rolled sideways, dodging another spray of frost magic. She knew she needed to get in close so she darted inside the draugr’s reach, drew back her hand and sank her blade point-first into its chest. The thing writhed and wormed around the steel for a moment before the unnatural blue light went out in its eyes and it crumpled sideways to the floor.  

In the aftermath, she stood a moment to catch her breath, chest heaving, heartbeat thudding in her ears, and looked down at her sword blade. The steel was clean; as if it had never pierced the creature’s flesh. “Bloodless,” she murmured, her husky alto seeming disproportionately loud in the now still, stone chamber. Looking around, she realised with a jolt of horror that it was an embalming room, and as her gaze snagged on the hooked tools and sharp, slender blades of the embalming utensils scattered across a stone table, she heard a flurry of footsteps from the passageway beyond.  

“Shit,” she hissed and ducked behind a thick pillar carved with swirling patterns and circles. Four draugr stumbled into the room moments later, followed by a fifth who seemed more alert and intelligent than the others. The movements of that last one were quick and almost nimble, and it surveyed the room with calculating eyes as it took in the fallen draugr at the centre and the spray of cold ice on the floor.  

Loosing a slow, silent breath, she rallied her courage and tightened her sweaty grip on her blade.  

Five draugr could very well amount to four draugr too many for a single combatant to take on alone, especially in such tight quarters. If they spotted her where she currently stood, she’d be hemmed in immediately and torn to shreds; if she moved and bolted for the corridor, they’d be onto her like hounds on a hare in a moment.  

Before she could spend any more time thinking on a plan, the more intelligent of the draugr froze and her heart stopped.  

It turned its shrunken head slowly towards her corner, nose raised, lips bared in a rictus smile, teeth revealed by the slow passage of time as the body shrivelled up. The creature tilted its head and opened its jaws. It was onto her. Beneath the floating, wisp-like wrappings that covered the creature’s torso, she could see the remnants of breasts in its atrophied musculature, and the features of the face seemed a little more slender than the others. This one was probably female then.  

Unthinking, she moved, following instinct and relying on her years as a city guard and then a mercenary.  

Her blade hewed the head off the nearest and slowest draugr before it had even had time to draw its axe, and the two creatures beside it went down with a snarl a few seconds later as she cut their hamstrings and plunged her blade into the chest of one and lopped the head off the other. Spinning away like a leaf and breathing hard, shaking with adrenaline, she turned, blade ready as she faced the female and the one remaining thrall.  

Exhaustion bit at her muscles and burned her lungs but she snarled at the draugr standing before her in the dancing torchlight.  

The female draugr only laughed.  

A voice like shards of ice filled her ears and robbed her instantly of breath and thought as the draugr uttered a spell that engulfed her completely in a heartbeat.  

Her blade clattered from her fingers as cold dread blasted through her like a winter storm; the spell had disarmed her, weapon and mind, and it left her staggering, vulnerable, terrified. The draugr laughed again, the sound raw and heartless, and pointed a withered finger at her. The remaining thrall limped towards her and she could do nothing but stare at it, terror-struck and shaking as it raised its blade.  

“Please, Divines,” she prayed silently, unable to move even her lips. “Don’t let me die down here. Don’t let me fail… Not now. Not when I was so close to finding it…”

The thought of failing — of getting this far and then dying; of enduring the endless, sapping cold alone, night after night; of trekking through waist-deep snow drifts and evading prowling sabre cats and packs of winter-hungry wolves; of researching in draughty, arcane libraries in the north for references to the amulet that would save her friend — only for her to die now, at the mercy of this shrivelled, walking carcass, tore a long, ragged howl of rage from her lungs.  

Whether by force of will or a hidden resilience to magic, she would never know, but the spell holding her on the spot shattered and as her roar filled the hemispherical chamber, and the conjured fear dissipated, leaving in its wake a boiling, desperate rage. She skidded low on the flagstone floor, bruising her hip as the thrall lunged awkwardly for her, and she snatched her sword up from where it lay abandoned on the stones as she sprang to her feet behind the creature.  

The thrall crumpled as she reversed her grip and stabbed it in the back before switching grip again and swinging at the female. She raised a pathetic little iron dagger which rang on the rock as it was knocked from her emaciated fingers, and a moment later she too fell with a snarl.  

She fled deeper into the complex.

Down and down, she skittered along slippery stone staircases and carefully nudged heavy, iron doors open until she was sure she had to be nearing the heart of the tomb. It had been carved into the mountain like a warren, starting at the top and working right the way down into the heart of the lonely peak. Excitement and fear built inside her, driving her on, ever on.  

With her desperation though came a touch of recklessness. She encountered no more wandering draugr until she shoved open a door and stepped heedlessly out into an enormous, open crypt with stone walls groaning under the weight of shelf upon shelf of prone corpses, some wrapped, some simply reclining. It was like the Halls of the Dead beneath the capital cities of each hold, with row upon row of niches carved out of the rock, except here, these corpses were not truly dead.  

The moment she entered the cavernous chamber, figures began to stir in the shadows and stark blue eyes blinked from the shadows like wisps in the night.  

“Shit, shit, shit,” she hissed, backing out again in the hopes that they wouldn’t spot her, but it was far too late for that. With a grunt and a snarl, the closest draugr saw her and with the alarm raised, it ran for her. Its gait was awkward, lumbering, lopsided, but it was still alarmingly quick. She staggered backwards, looking around for some way to bar the door she’d just opened, but it was no good.  

Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she bolted back up the long, sloping passageway.  

There was no way she could take on the fifteen or twenty shambling draugr that were coming after her now. Not alone. She was going to have to rethink this stupid, harebrained plan. She was going to need money. She would have to hire a crew of mercenaries somehow. The flawless diamond she’d unearthed from a burial urn would go a long way towards covering that, but she had to get out of there alive first. But there might not be time anyway. He might not have time. This had already been their last-ditch attempt to save Mythlas from an excruciating death, and she wasn’t going to make it.

She was going to die.  

She was going to die alone, terrified, and torn to pieces by rabid corpses deep underground.  

At least Mythlas would meet her in the afterlife then. Maybe he was already there, waiting to welcome her home. “I hope I cross over in one piece,” she thought as she skidded around a corner and set off at a staggering spring, oddly concerned with her appearance in the afterlife for someone still very much alive and fleeing a small regiment of the undead.  

A rumbling of stone up ahead nearly made her crash to a sudden halt, but the sound of tramping feet behind her drove her onwards.  

She burst out onto a frustratingly familiar, broad, stone corridor on a level above the crypt and paused, chest heaving, ears straining. The snarls and grunts of the draugr below seemed distant and warped by the echoing stone, but they were very obviously still after her.  

Only a small number of torches burned here in the brackets on the wall, casting long, flickering shadows that danced disconcertingly before her eyes and left great pools of darkness between the carved, monolithic columns of the hall. As she looked around frantically for somewhere to hide, she caught sight of an unlit passage she must have missed on the way down. A small cloud of dust was settling at the threshold, and she frowned. Surely that had just been blank, stone wall before?

As she blinked, trying to decide whether to take this new passageway or to continue the long sprint for the surface, something moved in the depths of the narrow corridor and she recoiled.  

A figure stepped out from the shade into the dim torchlight at the mouth of the new passage like a spectre and she screamed, as much from surprise as horror, and when she took in the leathery, desiccated skin of a draugr, she raised her sword. Something gave her pause though, and she blinked, confused and torn. She had to keep moving. Staying still would mean death in mere moments.  

The figure was unmistakably another draugr, only it was clad in a manner unlike any draugr she’d ever seen. She found herself reminded of an illustration of a dragon priest she’d glimpsed during her research weeks ago, though it had no crown or staff, and no mask to hide behind. The dragon priests had all been male, and vicious tyrants if the histories spoke true all these centuries later. This one wore a long, faded purple robe with a hint of gold thread at the cuff and high, close collar, and his feet were bare. Long, lank, black hair hung around his shrunken face and, unlike most of the ancient draugr, he was clean-shaven. His eyes still burned blue, however, and his lips had been pulled back to reveal a grim smile as his skin had dried and his body shrivelled.  

To her astonishment, he pointed behind him, down the corridor the way he had come, and motioned quickly with his other hand for her to go that way.  

“What?” she hissed, tensing and raising her blade again.  

“Go,” he rasped. “Hide down here. I can show you to the amulet.”

“What the fuck?” she whispered and took another half a step backwards. Draugr didn’t talk like that. They didn't speak a language that anyone nowadays knew, and they certainly didn’t offer help to the people who disturbed their tombs.  

His acid blue gaze glanced over her shoulder and he growled like a wolf. “If they find you, they will kill you,” he said in a papery, scratching rasp. “And there’s a Death Lord with them. I cannot control the Death Lords. Only the lesser draugr… please… hurry.”

The fact that he was talking to her in coherent sentences only truly registered as she bolted past him like a rabbit down a hole, straight into the pitch black of the hidden corridor. His bony fingers reached up and pulled down on a lever embedded in the wall, and the rumbling she’d heard earlier sounded again as a counter-weight was set free and a stone doorway rose from the floor to conceal the entrance, leaving them encased in absolute, pitch darkness.  

For a moment, all she could hear was her own heartbeat thundering against her eardrums and the slow, steady rattle of the draugr’s breath nearby. Then a shout of command went up from the hallway outside in a language she didn’t understand, and the twin burning pinpricks of the draugr with which she had just entombed herself blinked to life in the blackness.  

Oh what in the name of Oblivion have I done? she thought frantically as she scrabbled to raise her sword again.  

“Wait,” the draugr hissed. “Please. I won’t hurt you, but you have to remain still until they’ve left. They won’t search very far… They’re not… the sharpest tools in the embalming kit after all.”

Unexpectedly, she snorted a short, slightly hysterical laugh and thought she heard it echoed by this most unusual of draugr.  

After only a minute or so, though panicked time seemed to stretch forever, the sounds of pursuit disappeared and the search seemed to have been called off. She tried not to let herself slump back into the curved wall of the tunnel in relief. She was still locked in the dark with a revenant after all.  

“Who are you?” she asked as the figure’s eyes rose to meet hers again. “Why did you help me?”

As he approached, she drew back, pressing herself against the smooth walls of the tunnel, but he passed her without a word. His gait sounded awkward, careful, as though his joints were painful and stiff, and he had a syncopated limp.  

“So what now?” she asked. “Should I just wait here and then pull the lever and go?”

“I thought you wanted the amulet?” he said casually without turning around or stopping.  

“I do,” she said, raising her chin and trying to summon a few more ounces of courage from the dregs of her exhausted reserves.  

“Then follow me.”

“I can’t see a bloody thing!” she hissed, one hand pressed to the tunnel wall to keep herself anchored. “How do I know you’re not going to lead me into some pit and feed on me for the next few months?”

He froze, let out a long, rattling sigh and then turned laboriously around to look at her. All she could see of him were the two points of blue light for his eyes, but she got the distinct impression he’d raised an eyebrow at her. A moment later, a ball of magelight flickered to life in his palm and rose to float above his head. It cast a stark, cold light down around him and made his face seem even more skeletal and gaunt than it already was. He turned away again.  

She did not follow as he set off again, and contemplated running for the lever.  

“The Death Lord remained behind in the passage,” he said in his scraping whisper. “If you leave now by that route, you’ll have to face him.”

“Fuck,” she spat. “How do I know you’re any better?”

He shrugged. “You don’t. However, I am unarmed, slow, and have no desire to hurt you. I can also take you to the chamber where the Amulet of Birger is kept.”

“There’s a shortcut to the priest’s burial chamber from here?” she asked, tripping a little in her haste to catch up with him.  

“No. The one around the sleeping priest’s neck is a decoy. Cursed too. The real one is kept in a vault and can only be opened with ancient magic and —” he paused and looked back at her. He definitely had one thin eyebrow raised at her now. “— you don’t have a scrap of magic in you, so I don’t know how you plan to get it.”

She raised her lip and snarled at him. “Why would you even want to help me find it?” she demanded. “This has to be a trick. And what the fuck are you? I’ve never heard of people having conversations with draugr. You’re not even supposed to be able to speak our language.”

“You’re not the first visitor I’ve had in the last thousand years,” he said dryly. “Though you are the first this century. Forgive me if my vocabulary feels a little archaic; it’s been a while since I’ve had someone with whom to practice. As you say,” he added with a smirk, “Draugr are hardly known for being stunning conversationalists.”

She stood there, staggered and with her jaw slack. His voice was reedy and wheezing, and it sounded almost painful for him to speak, but he was clearly something very different from the draugr she’d encountered elsewhere, and even here in this royal burial complex.  

“Again…” she said as he regarded her with his glowing eyes. “What the fuck are you?”

“I was an acolyte of the dragon priest,” he said, as if that should explain everything.  

“So…? You’re like a dragon priest then?”

“Yes and no. The priest himself still slumbers, feeding on the energy of the draugr buried here with him.” His words were slow, and his consonants slurred because of the way his lips were pulled back beyond his teeth. He also broke off frequently to draw ragged, shuddering breaths. “I was chosen to maintain the wards on the tombs. He needed someone with magic to help with his eventual resurrection, and he needed me to have my full faculties… in case something were to go wrong between the time of his interment and the time of his resurrection.”

She stood there in the blackness of the tunnel and stared at him. “I’ve never heard of a draugr like you…”

“There aren’t many of us, as far as I know.”

“Still, why would you help me take something from the priest you serve?”

“He is not my master,” the acolyte snarled, teeth flashing in the harsh blue light from the sphere floating above him. His eyes flared white hot for a moment, and magicka crackled at his skeletal fingertips. “And I do not serve him willingly.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, taking half a step back from him.  

The draugr laid a hand on the wall for support and shook his head. “I apologise,” he gasped, trembling visibly. “I… I should not have spoken to you like that.”

She shrugged. “Alright. Well, how about you get me the amulet and show me the way out of here, and I’ll leave you in peace?”

He looked up at her and the light in his eyes dimmed. He stared for a moment too long, and her heart skipped a beat though she hardly knew why. “Very well,” he murmured, turning and shambling up the rock-cut corridor once more.  

They emerged after a few minutes into a small, circular chamber with a hearth in the wall on her left. A fire danced in the grate and she blinked, staring at the light that made the stone room feel almost cosy. The draugr acolyte had come to a halt beside another doorway on the opposite side of the room from the fireplace, and had his back to her. The ball of magelight was nowhere to be seen now.  

His faded purple robes brushed the stone floor at the back, but the hem hung a few inches higher at the front, revealing bony ankles just barely covered by mummified skin. She wondered fleetingly if his feet were cold.  

To distract herself from those odd thoughts, she let her gaze wander around the room. Surprisingly, bookcases lined the walls, and every shelf was stuffed to groaning with leather-bound volumes. A colossal, rectangular stone table occupied in the middle of the round chamber, and the great slab that made up its surface was covered without an inch of space with books, rolls of parchments, clay tablets, bottles of ink, quill pens, and sticks of charcoal.  

Even from a few yards away, she could see some incredibly intricate drawings — mountains, sunsets, enormous statues of the Divines, studies of apples and burning candles — and resting precariously at one corner of the table was a small, stringed instrument a bit like a lute.  

“You’re quite the scholar,” she said, turning to look at him.  

“This way,” he croaked, raising his emaciated hand and gesturing at the passageway before him.  

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

She thought she saw him smile, but he turned his back on her fully and disappeared up the corridor before she could be sure.  

This time, the passageway was lit up with torches, and as she followed him, she noticed how slowly and carefully he moved. His right foot seemed to drag a little on the stones and his joints wobbled minutely with each step.  

“Thank you for helping me,” she said and grimaced immediately at how awkward she sounded. “I mean… You could have just let them get me.”

He stopped and half turned to look at her askance. His cheeks were startlingly gaunt, the bones of his skull standing out in stark contrast, but there was something undeniably and bizarrely attractive about him. That last observation took her by surprise. Perhaps it was the delicate, deliberate way he moved, the slow, gentle way he blinked, or the wry twist to his mouth that might have had more to do with the way his skin was pulled tightly across his withered muscles and skull than his sense of humour, but somehow she didn’t think so. “You could have fled,” he said. “Or cut me down. I suppose I should be thanking you for trusting me, even though you know exactly what I am.”

“Believe it or not, you’re actually not the strangest being I’ve met on my travels.”

“Oh?”

She snorted. “No. I had a spriggan follow me through the woods for a solid week, creating a carpet of celandines beneath my feet wherever I walked. It was… embarrassing to say the least.”

To her surprise, he barked a laugh at that. “I’ve never heard of a spriggan doing anything like that.”

“I’ve never heard of a kindly draugr who likes reading either,” she said pointedly. “Seems there are more things out there than we know of.”

“Indeed. Can you tell me something?” he asked, straightening a little from his stoop and turning to look at her fully.  

“Sure?”

“The amulet is not for you, is it? I mean, you don’t want it for yourself.”

She paused, eyes narrowing. “No,” she replied, walking a little closer to him. He didn’t carry on - just watched her approach. As she stepped into the air around him, she caught the soft hint of incense that hung around him like perfume. “In a way, I suppose it is, but it’s not for my personal use. Is that enough for you?”

“Yes,” he said. “Come.”  

The chamber hiding the amulet sat behind a perfectly round, cast iron door covered with intricate markings and curling patterns. The draugr acolyte raised a finger to the surface and she inhaled softly when she saw that the skin of his skeletally thin hand had actually been worn away completely to reveal bare, naked bone from knuckle to fingertip. It hadn’t rotted away, but like a sheaf of leather, had been worn away over the centuries. She wondered if one day he’d be nothing but bones, and whether he would be able to move at all if that happened.  

With a tiny smile, he looked back at her while he continued to feed a sliver of blue magic into the iron patterns on the door. It wove through the knotwork like morning mist until it reached a tiny hole in the top section of the door, shaped like a dragon’s maw. “I can feel your curiosity from here,” he chuckled. “I wonder: is it about what I’m doing, about the door, or about me?”

“A bit of all three?” she said, feigning a lightness of spirit she didn’t feel. Her hand had found its way to her sword hilt again. She was so close to finding it. It wouldn’t pay to let herself get distracted and meet a sudden and unpleasant end now.

“When we’re done in here, you can ask me anything you like, but I must ask you to wait for now. My strength is waning already and I don’t want to let you down before I’ve told you the way out.”

That struck her as immeasurably kind, and she nodded in silence and let him work, chastened. She did not, however, let go of her sword.

The tendril of ghostly blue magic disappeared into the opening and the door shuddered before rolling slowly to one side like a coin across a tabletop. The sound, however was almost deafening. It finally disappeared into a special slot in the wall to reveal a pedestal of pure, blue crystal glowing softly in the centre of the circular room beyond and sending refracted light glittering off piles of cut and raw gemstones and heaps of cast gold ornaments and jewellery.  

“Holy… shit,” she hissed, peering over his shoulder.  

“Touch none of it,” he warned, voice suddenly severe despite the fragile wheeze. “It will serve you no good, trust me.”

“Cursed treasure?”

He nodded.  

“I’ve heard of that before. Don't worry; I’m just here to bring the amulet to my friend.” She thought suddenly of that diamond in her pocket. It was the size of a hen’s egg, cut and flawless, and would fetch her more than a lifetime’s earnings as a mercenary if she found the right buyer. The Thieves Guild seemed like a good bet with her connections. “Is… uh… Is all the treasure in the burial complex cursed?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound as concerned as she now felt.  

Laughing quietly as he hobbled away into the room, the acolyte shook his head. “Take what you like from elsewhere, but I’d stay on that side of the door if I were you. This room does strange things to mortals of all races.”

“There speaks the voice of experience,” she muttered.  

“Unfortunately,” he said and pointed to an orcish skull in the corner.  

She stared, transfixed by the horror of the empty eye sockets and the curved tusks, still adorned with their silver ornaments. “Right. Staying put.”

A moment later, the acolyte murmured a spell and the light in the crystal pillar died. Then the draugr lifted a small, dragonbone amulet free of the pedestal and held it up, turning it gently in his fingers. It dangled on a simple gold chain and she stepped back as he left the room and gestured with his hand. A moment later, the door rolled back into place and he handed it to her.  

She faltered.  

“It’s perfectly safe, I promise,” he said. This close to him, she could see the withered skin around his eyes, papery and delicate, and the scent of incense wafted gently around him. It was almost calming.  

“How… How do I use it?” she asked, refocusing her attention. “The books… they’re all so vague. Most of them don’t even believe this place really exists, let alone the amulet.” She stared at the oval pendant hanging in the air between them, rocking back and forth slightly from the steady tremor in his fingers. “I’ve… I’ve searched everywhere for it, and… and now I actually have it, I don’t even know how to use it to save him.” She looked up straight into his unnatural blue eyes and her vision swam with tears. “What do I do?” she choked.  

Impulsively, the draugr reached for her arm with his empty hand and gripped her gently. Her padded leather jerkin creaked softly beneath his hold. “Have courage,” he said. “This is a relic far older than the dragon priest who once claimed it for his own. It belonged to a mortal beloved by a dragon which died to save him, and it was carved from one of the dragon’s ribs. It knows its purpose. If you truly want to save your friend, take it to him and lay it around his neck. It might help to guide the magic if you think about every good thing you love in your friend, but the amulet will know what to do.”

A single tear rolled down each cheek and she sniffed, trying to keep herself together as exhaustion and relief shoved against her fracturing self-control in a crushing wave. “That’s it? That’s all I have to do?” It sounded like a fairytale; too good to be true.  

“Were you expecting a mass-sacrifice?” he smiled almost fondly, releasing her arm and taking up her hand in his. “Here.”

His fingers held her so delicately that she gasped. His skin was warm and smooth like tanned leather, and she felt as though her body glowed where he touched her. The feeling was so strong that she had to look down, but when her eyes fell on the bare bone and the remnants of withered flesh, tendons moving beneath paper-frail skin like lyre strings, he let go of her and stepped back, snatching his hands back.

He lowered his gaze and turned away. “Come. I will show you the way out.”

Unexpectedly, she yawned and swayed on the spot. After the gruelling ascent up the mountain to the tomb’s entrance, the skirmishes with the draugr, and that final flight back up the corridors from the deep crypt, her muscles felt like lead. She rocked slightly as she breathed out a long, slow breath at the thought of the exhausting trek down the mountainside.  

When he paused and looked questioningly at her, she smiled. “Long way down, that’s all,” she said, kicking her feet into action. “Still, if I don’t get going now, I might never start up again.”

“You could… rest here?” he said tentatively. “Sleep for a few hours. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” she scoffed. He was right though; she was wiped out, and the smile that followed quickly became another yawn. “It was a bloody long climb up here, and those draugr you rescued me from weren’t the first ones I met. I knew it would be tough, but still…”

“The upper chambers are well guarded,” he agreed. “You were lucky to make it so far down uninjured.”

“Or skilled,” she countered with a grin.  

He inclined his head. “I thought that went without saying,” he replied.  

As she caught up with him in the tight space of the tunnel, she looked up at him and realised he had a few inches on her. Normally the draugr were smaller than she was, if not by much. With centuries spent mummifying beneath the rock, they shrank, the cartilage and connective tissue shrivelling to leave bone grinding on bone, and shaving inches off their height.  

“What?” he asked as they made their way together back towards his study chambers.  

“You’re pretty tall,” she shrugged.  

He shot her a look.  

“If you say it’s because I’m small, I will cut your knees out from underneath you,” she said with a slightly feral smirk. “I’m not small.”

To her unexpected joy, he laughed and shook his head. “No, you’re right again. I am tall. Freakishly so, or so my contemporaries would have had you believe. The men who roam these lands now are taller than they were in my… uh… lifetime, I suppose you might say.” He glanced at her and added, “Are you tall for the women of the time?”

“Not especially,” she shrugged. “I mean, I’m not short, but I’m not super tall either. Just, you know, average.” Average in looks, talent, intelligence, and height, she thought.  

“You have to be slightly more remarkable than ‘average’ to find a long-lost dragon priest’s tomb, escape death by feral undead, and win over the keeper of the amulet so easily, surely?” he asked, ushering her back into his study before her.  

She rolled her eyes. “Listen, I probably should be going, but I have no idea how late it is now, and I’m so tired that I’m honestly not sure this isn’t all a hallucination. Would you mind if I crashed in a corner for a few hours’ kip?”

“Please,” he said, shaking his head and gesturing towards the other side of the room. “I have a bedroll you can sleep in.”

“A bedroll? Where the heck did you get that from?” she said, a spike of fear playing up her spine. Was it a grim trophy from all the previous adventurers he’d duped into accepting the amulet? Did he have a whole room full of trinkets he’d stripped from their corpses after luring them in with his affable nature and harmless persona?

“I told you,” he said evenly. “You’re not the first to come down here.”

“I’m just the first to charm you into giving up the amulet?” she asked, panic rising. “Or did you let the others sleep in here too and, what, slit their throats while they rested? You know what? I think I’ll leave now.”

Hurt flashed across his face at her sudden change of mind, pain twisting his features for a moment, and he lowered his head. A heartbeat later, he gestured limply towards a door on the far side of the room. “Take that passageway until you reach an external door. It will take you to the eastern slope of the mountain, and a twisting pathway back down to the river in the valley below. You should be among civilisation again within a day.”

And with that, he turned away and crossed to the hearth. He did not look around at her again but stood with his head bowed, one arm braced on the fireplace lintel, apparently staring at the flames while she made up her mind.

For a moment, she stood there, frozen by indecision and guilt.  

Then she closed her fingers about the talisman in her hand, feeling the warmth of its magic, and she hardened her heart. He was a draugr, for crying out loud. Besides, she couldn’t let another moment of a living person’s life slip by to spare the feelings one of the undead. And who knew if Mythlas even had moments to spare? She had to leave, and she had to leave now.

She did not look back as the iron door closed behind her, and the wind bit instantly into her exposed face.

Part Two --->

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I really hope you enjoyed this one! If you did, please let me know by reblogging and maybe leaving me an ask, otherwise I won’t know if there’s interest and I won’t continue to post it. I’m very much aware that neither character has their name revealed in this part. That comes later, I promise!

I’ve got at least four more parts, if not more, basically ready to go, but it all depends on the reception this gets. If I get no feedback, it won’t be worthwhile editing and posting...

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| Masterlist | Ko-fi

[menkhu]

just finished pathfinder wrath of the righteous and i have. thoughts. spoilers ofc

hOW are y’all finding this and liking it two years later and actually do not tell me i will simply continue to pretend that this is my private little diary kept locked with a little plastic key and no one can see how many times i’ve doodled my name with my crush’s last name inside

lol if for some reason you’re here on this post i made like a year ago that isn’t in any main tags, i’ve. been updating. adding new thoughts i just have so many i finished an azata run and i loved aivu sm she reminds me of a friend

the updating does mean that this is going to become incomprehensible pretty quickly because new thoughts are inserted where i feel they’re relevant and the surrounding text is not edited bc the effort isn’t worth it when this is entirely for my own gratification so if you’re reading good luck

OK not to be hvaing Daeran Thoughts™ in this the month of december 2023 but. i just wanna talk about how “i thought you didn’t want to lose me” and “see? i’m indispensable” are two voice lines of his. this man? who doesn’t acre about how other people see him? who never wanted to be on this adventure in the fisrt place? is worried about being unwanted?? i am clenching this thought in my powerful jaws and i am frantically shaknig my head like a dog with a bone

ahahahahah gonna be playing for a third time. i think i’ll do the trickster mythic path? i have a strong distaste for evil shit and a mild distaste for lawful shit, which make demon, lich, and aeon not particularly appealing. i could also switch to dragon or smth; i was tempted in my last playthrough but didn’t want to potentially lose aivu, so.

ajshdfjgka playing as a man this time to maybe hit on sosiel we’ll see and when i went to retrieve woljif i lost it when he called me dreamboat i just wasn’t expecting

working through a lich playthrough now and in chapter 3 it’s actually been really sick. my favorite little touch is how, when controlling the crusades, each victory adds more undead to your forces. in order to get myself to choose the option i had to go hardcore into the roleplaying. my commander is maya, a druid, worships urgathoa, doesn’t like being human and is honestly indifferent to human suffering. she spends most of her time in wild shape. ppl confuse her and her leopard companion, lilia, often. probably would have disappeared into the sunset except that she found being made commander extremely funny and then developed a possessiveness for the crusaders so she’s actually trying to lead well.

i am physically incapable of choosing the dialogue options that let you start arueshalae’s romance like i am not grabbing anyone’s hand and telling them i’ll teach them how to love (if i had the power to rewrite, i’d have the line be something more like. i’ll help you thru this every step of the way. anything you need. anything you want.) similar problem with camellia. i refuse to lay on thick compliments and butter her up by talking about her social stature. and then the next chance to express interest is when she’s high off committing murder and wants to fuck like. nah. it’s impossible to romance any ladies in this game whoops

sosiel’s romance is also kinda,,, painful. i cut it off w him start of the 5th chapter because i just couldn’t feed into his fairytale romance novel bullshit and pass on something that felt more genuine (yay 3rd time romancing daeran.) it’s p easy to follow his route by being kind and showing that you appreciate the gestures he makes without fully buying into it. and like. being inexperienced in love and trying to express your feelings by writing bad poetry is actually super charming. but sosiel darling if you’re going to give an ultimatum while extolling the beauty and virtue of love shared by two people while your competition says that my heart doesn’t have to belong to any one person you’re just asking me to give up something good that comes at no cost for the privilege of being trapped a role in your fantasy. nah.

started lann’s romance. i do not like him. it’s fitting that i’m having the commander i don’t like romancing him. lmao it’s only my second time not romancing daeran; first was with arueshalae (pinched my nose and made those starting choices, found the whole thing kinda lackluster? tbh?) hate the way lann is sometimes straight up mean. and how he tries to frame it as a joke. hate how he’ll say you should hang crusaders who commit petty theft. hate his weird hero complex that’s incompatible with the way other’s lives aren’t a priority to him and mostly arises out of. idk a sense of ego? still holding out hope this’ll be interesting even if exploring the character in this manner isn’t the most appealing to me. (LOL i cut it off with him. he was just like. oh look at me being so pathetic trying to date you it’s crazy how could someone like you ever take an interest in me i’m so pathetic and i was like. okay. maybe you are pathetic. maybe i don’t have an interest in you. and then i was running the lich path so this saved his life actually lol. lmao. lmfao.)

ember is my daughter

i’m kind of surprised that that was the final chapter. it was an appropriate end and everything but the way crusade management was set up, it felt as though there was more to come. like. events dumped three free generals into my lap when i already had the map cleared out. there were some references to generals reaching level 20 but none of my three (the ones i actually used) got anywhere close to that. there were so many different types of units but for most of them, there wasn’t any reasonable way to accrue a usable number. with the way galfrey mucked things up, i was frantic about getting the armies in order to face big things to come and those big things just didn’t come. the fact that crusade management wasn’t rewarding is probs my second biggest complaint.

i’m really glad there’s a wimpy baby difficulty mode because w h y are so many enemies able to rip me apart when i have 57 ac and w h y are there so many enemies with absurd spell resistance and ac high enough that you can only pray to crit

lol @ this previous paragraph because i have a playthrough on core difficulty where i fought most of the extra bosses for the achievements and leveling the characters myself from the ground up gave me a good understanding of their abilities. i definitely am not an advocate of the autoleveling; either the builds are inherently mid or just incompatible with the way i play. also dispel magic is so strong.

pretty sure i’m going to be playing through again though because i want to see other mythic paths (my first playthrough i didn’t look up anything about unlocking them so i only had angel and demon available at first lmao) and to spend more time with some of the companions. i never found all the masks for nenio :(

(edit: after azata path i did find all the masks for nenio and we became friends ! there was a lot of content there jfc. i do not recommend playing when u have a migraine and ur memory is diminished but it was neat. i do like puzzles even if some of them are obtuse it’s fine we all have the internet to help with that.)

ran into a lot of glitches which i guess will happen when you dive in headfirst on release day. there were a few times people didn’t recognize the choices i had made. at one point i had a dialog option with camellia that implied we had a salacious history except no such thing happened and also i was playing as a lady and she’s straight. wasn’t able to finish a quest because the necessary items didn’t exist.

lol i had an entire companion glitch on me. i had literally no interest in greybor and i accidentally killed the dragon before i went traveling with him anyway so when he met up with the group and told the commander to hire him or he’d be forced to kill her i was like sure okay buddy you can do that. he did not die. he showed up wherever companions were supposed to show up, but i could never talk to him, just attack him. he didn’t realize he had already been rejected how embarrassing

(idk if greybor glitched again or if i did something wrong but azata playthrough i really did try to recruit him but he got pissy after the fight when i wanted to pursue the dragon and even though i tried i failed but maybe i did something wrong?? waited too long? did very little to endear him to me tbh)

(trickster playthrough and i finally have greybor as a companion. i’m hoping to like him better after spending more time with him but. he really is just a wannabe manly man’s wet dream of a roleplaying character. in a want to be him way, not a want him way. haha unless)

kinda surprised that i ended up romancing daeran but tbh no regrets. the more i got to know lann the less i liked him (the final part of his questline was. ugh. why are you so whiny about how i kept you from killing yourself.)(i swear sometimes he says things just to remind you that his alignment is lawful neutral)(one of my first impressions of him was scaly alastair but that might be disrespectful to alastair tbh)(actually he and daeran told me to choose btwn them at one point and i was like???? lann i said it’d be cool if you wanted to hang out without making up stupid excuses like sparring matches meanwhile daeran has been doing all sorts of wining and dining what sort of incel bullshit) (there’s some party banter with ember where she’s like, lann jokes but really he’s just sad and i was like yea i feel that)(it’s like he isn’t even committed to his jokey persona) and arueshalae was wonderful but i’m not a fan of the teaching someone how to love narrative (i wanted to. i really tried but i just couldn’t bring myself to choose the dialogue options where you like. take her hand and tell her you’ll show her how to love it’s too much.) daeran has the best banter and also he filled the war room with flowers so a+ partner

(his alignment is evil but honestly i don’t see it? he can be vengeful ig? not that he’s never shitty but i’d put him at neutral maybe leaning evil bc the good counters the bad. like he only punches up he regularly condemns evil acts and he’s sweet with the other companions so it’s not difficult to be fond of him)(FURTHER. something i put together after uhhh some number of playthroughs. there’s banter where daeran asks arue if she’s actually good with desna having taken control of her life bc the same thing happened to him with the other and it was terrible and he hated it. so. all those times he tries to tempt her. he’s not just being awful. he’s trying to give her a choice.)

more thoughts abt his relationships with the companions!!!! it’s actually rlly funny that my instinct was to say that he was sweet with them bc on a replay i became aware of just how shitty he sounds if you fully take his words at face value. you can’t, though. he acknowledges himself that venomous is his default affect and that he has trouble expressing his kinder emotions. he also says that when he has a problem with someone, he isn’t afraid to let them know it. there’s a bit of banter where lann says anything less that an insult from daeran is p much a compliment which i think is an oversimplification but just drives home the point that even others can see that when he’s being mean, it’s often more about having fun than genuine distaste. when coming from him, things that might seem mean are actually meant as playful teasing. 

when i say he’s sweet with the companions, i mean that he lambasts paladins frequently, but always lets seelah know that he isn’t talking about her; he likes her. (yOu’rE nOt LiKe tHe oThEr pAlAdInS is maybe not a great worldview but)

he lets sosiel know that he appreciates his art. there’s banter where he tells sosiel that he would be quite the catch ;)

he’s actually protective of ember; he warns her to be careful about cultists and zealots. this one really gets me because the two have such fundamentally different views but i don’t recall him ever castigating her for it. rolling his eyes from time to time, maybe, but mostly nudging her away from what he sees as dangerous.

he’s happy to play along with nenio’s dumb experiments. finds them amusing.

he and camellia can be so bitchy about other nobles together it’s like they’re on the same team and it’s great.

don’t even get me started about his relationship with woljif ok. woljif is everything high society hates so of course daeran latches onto that right away. i love the banter where he talks about introducing woljif to parties with other nobles, which of course could be interpreted as him looking to rope woljif into those things for a few laughs, but what really gave substance to it for me was an exchange they had in the thousand delights. woljif is excited to be in a brothel and daeran is like. listen we don’t consort with demons they’re miserable creatures instead, when we get out of here, i’m going to give you a whole bunch of gold and give you a tour of the brothels in absalom. he so easily tells woljif that he’ll give him the things that he desires. he commits to making this trip with him. there is very little to gain there for daeran; he could easily tour the brothels alone were he so inclined, but instead, he agrees to do this for a friend.

actually i feel like in banter, the others are more likely to be making fun of him than he is of them? he’s both perfectly self aware and he likes who he is so he’d mostly be amused by it. in general i don’t think a companion insulting daeran (or he them in the case of those like lann and seelah who can bite back) is a sign of a bad relationship.

(enough about daeran back to the other companions lmaoo)

i like nenio more than i expected she’s so funny. she seemed cold at first what with her refusing to remember your name and all but after a while, with her earnest enthusiasm for what she does, it became endearing.

actually i’ve discovered that having good banter is one of the most important factors in how much i like a character. like i have no problems with seelah or sosiel but since their banter tends to be flat i just never fell in love. also i’m not really into camellia’s whole thing but i have fun with her because of the noble code switching she and daeran will do, like referring to each other by title.

i think a lot of the reason lann fell flat for me was because of his inability to maintain the funny guy persona? everyone thinks of him as the guy who makes jokes, but. i remember first talking to him and he tells you he wants to make a difference. and when you ask for clarification he’s like imma invent a new type of salad :) jk actually i hate myself and i want to die in battle because i’m afraid of my death being as meaningless as my life. took like no prompting for him to switch. rewrite of that exchange bc it frustrates me

lann: i’m going to invent a new type of salad and have it named after me

commander: a new type of salad.

lann: what, not aiming high enough? fine, i guess i can take the culinary world by storm and have enough food named after me to serve an entire buffet, but only if it’ll make you happy

commander: it might not be well received if you’re making mongrel food. your people have...interesting palates.

lann: ah, but that’s my secret advantage. by including mold, i can guarantee that my salads will be one of a kind.

commander: what is it really tho

lann: not the salad, no surprise there. not the buffet either, though i like how you encourage me to reach new heights. it’s more that...i want to fight on the front lines. if i’m risking my life so that others don’t have to, then i’ll know i’m making a difference

unsurprisingly, i like lann more in the context of his interactions with daeran.

wish we could have irabeth and anevia as companions. love them.

(azata playthrough, galfrey lived and i was so pissed. never again.)

anyway daeran and woljif are best friends forever and it’s so funny have some screencaps 

[aboleth-eye]

Hello! Would you have any advice for new DMs/things you wish you had been told when you started DMing? I'd like to try it myself, but I've only ever been a player, and just figuring out where to start is a bit overwhelming! Thank you in advance!

Great Question!  Here are my Lessons Learned from when I ran a game for the first time!  

There are Four Lessons I wish I’d known when I got started:  Have Your Resources Handy, Start Small (3 Parts), Things Go Awry, and Have Fun Together!   ((This is going to be a very long post, so I’ll cap it a little less than halfway down))

1.)  Have Your Resources Handy!

If this is your first time running a Tabletop RPG system, even if you’ve been playing for years, HAVE THE BOOK(S), WEBSITE(S) AND/OR PDF(S) NEARBY!  I’m serious about this, guys!  Playing a game or watching someone else play is a totally different monster to running it!  

When you first declare to the group that you’d like to host a game, I recommend you read the rules over at least two or three times before hand–start with a deep read first to get it all in your head, and then you can choose to speed read once you’ve had some time to digest the rules.  

But even if reading ttrpgs is your thing, have the resources within easy reach.  Either have your laptop available with open tabs to any pdfs/scans of the game source material and any relevant websites (like standard reference document pages), and/or have a physical copy of the game book with you.  If you are running certain monsters or encounters, I also recommend you copy down any stats and information to a separate text document (on laptop or printed) so you won’t have to page through stuff during the game.

2A.) Start Small: The Setting

If this is your first time or fiftieth time running a tabletop roleplaying game, and you are running a new system for the first time, limit the scope of project to start.  Writing campaign and world settings can be very intense, and it is very easy to write something too specific and railroad people into your lore and world.

For instance, don’t create a massive world with a continent of named cities and landmarks!  Don’t plan out every inch of your world, or else it’ll turn into a “fill-in-the-blank exploration” story instead of an organic world you can change as your group learns and grows!

My first campaign started in a very specifically written city on the edge of a vast magical desert.  I planned out a timetable of events that would catapult the players into the “open-world”.  The players noticed this and didn’t appreciate it. 

Also, do not bog your players down with Lore!  I’ve gone into campaigns where you need to know information “for backstory”!  This is your first campaign, it’s good to know what to introduce and when!  A group of starting adventurers typically doesn’t need to know your world’s entire array of deities, pages and pages of history, and legends “that shaped the world”!  You can introduce these things at character creation IF THE PLAYERS ASK, and then slowly dish things out as the characters live in your world.

It’s also good to not ties yourself down to specific placement of towns, countries, cities, landmarks, etc.  Leave the map blank save for the starting area, and any broadly defined areas such as forests and mountains.  Once characters finish their first missions and adventures, they’ll explore!  With all the “white space” of your world, you can insert places and things as you journey with the group!  

One of my favorite encounters when I was very new to D&D was when we accidentally burned down a forest.  We were fighting a massive tiger with a pixie NPC in a forest, and the pixie just trapped everyone (tiger included) in entangling vines.  Our pyromancer in the party tried to set the beast on fire, and they rolled a critical failure.  

The beast was set on fire and died!  And so did the pixie!  And now there’s a raging forest fire we have to run from!  We get an oxcart running and we take shifts to outrun the magical fire–FOR THREE DAYS!  It was an incredibly tense situation, and it was fun to add “an entire forest” to the pyromancer player’s list of things they set on fire.

You know what would have made all that suck?  If the DM had decided: “Okay, you pass through this location which is a lich’s hideout and have to face that; then the next day you’ll have to ford a river with the tired oxes.  Finally, you’ll be passing through this county’s border…”  

We just burned down a placeholder  forest, and all the consequences that came with it came AFTER we were finally safe!  The DM didn’t bog us down with heavy lore and their maps during a tense situation; they kept the focus on the action at hand.

Prioritize the players’ story before your own!  That’s the lesson I want to make absolutely clear.  You aren’t telling your story with friends as the characters; the Dungeon Master/Game Master/Storyteller is the worldbuilder who tells the character groups’ story as they interact with the world.

2B) Start Small: The First Encounters

Another item I want to bring up is Do Not Start Your Campaign with a “Unique Encounter”!  Start your campaign setting with a simple task for the players to face.  Here are the kinds of challenges I mean: defeat a bunch of zombies in a graveyard for a reward, go into a mine full of bats to retrieve a homing beacon, follow a simple mystery to find a girl’s lost dog, etc.  The Players’ should be introduced to your world with something simple to follow–that way they can make their marks and introduce how they roleplay to the story.  

Do Not try something you’ve “never seen before”!  Don’t have the characters whisked off to another plane or world while they slept!  Don’t have the players face fifteen or so mooks at once during an ambush!  Don’t have your characters struggle to tread water or leap floating platforms while fighting a monster!  These kinds of encounters instantly put players on guard and feel railroaded!  Give them the chance to decide how they integrate themselves into the adventure.

My first campaign violated this rule.  When the players left the city to enter the desert, they were suddenly beset by 12 monstrous scorpions!  And me, in my ambitious tunnel-vision, thought it’d be interesting to have each scorpion have its own turn.  I rolled twelve Initiatives for the scorpions and it was a LONG combat when it clearly didn’t have to be.  

It all looked so good in my head, but when you get players involved you can tell how grueling and boring something like that could be.  I learned a lot that session.

That combat ended the campaign for me.  I decided to go back to the drawing board because that kind of thinking was not going to fly for me and my friends.

Instead, give your players a task that could easily be solved in one or two sessions!  Do not give your players “only one way” to solve this!  For instance, if your first challenge is to get past some guards, let the players come up with the solution themselves.  They might decide to fight the guards, use magic/science to teleport past them, go off on a side quest to become guards so they can infiltrate them, or even walk up and attempt to socialize with them.  You as the storyteller/DM merely narrate the results of whatever the characters do; just bridge the gaps and think of consequences from the players’ actions.

ALSO!  Have a time limit for your first session, or plan breaks for food/drink/stretching.  This activity of DMing can be very stressful, and you might need a break to take stock of what problems and choices occurred during play.  

2C.) Start Small: The Players

Have your players build starting or low-level characters (I typically start with 3rd level for D&D).  The low levels will mean most powergaming and gamebreaking attempts by certain types of players will be nipped in the bud right from the start.  It will also typically limit the powers and abilities of your group (so you won’t have to memorize or look up high-level stuff until much later).  

Another thing I highly recommend is that you are present during character creation!  Do not let people determine/roll character abilities and stats without you.  Either be physically present when dice get rolled and abilities get determined, or be present digitally in a chatroom, discord or roll20 when electronic character sheets get filled in!  

My first campaign I allowed one of the players to bring a character from a friend’s campaign into it.  The original DM ended the campaign; and even though I had played in that campaign alongside this character I had no clue what they could do.  This made things challenging because this character “suddenly” remembered they could fly–so I had to add aerial combat onto my plate during the first fight of the campaign.

It made the situation tense, especially with my bad early encounters (see the 12 Scorpions combat above).

3.) Things Go Awry

If you’ve come this far, there’s one last piece of advice I want to give you.  Your first campaign is gonna suck in one way or another.

I don’t mean that to be disheartening; I want you to think of it as a learning experience.  Whenever a person learns a new skill or engages in a new activity for the first time, it’s always gonna suck.  (Even if someone has a “natural talent”).  You as the DM/Storyteller are going to notice problems crop up left and right; especially if you don’t take the advice I offered above.  For instance, if you start learning to paint with a new medium or start a sport you’ve never tried; you need to practice with the tools and techniques you’ve prepared to see what works for your style of learning.  

Running a roleplaying game is a very unique mashup of activities.  There’s typically a math element you need to consider behind every action the players take.  You need to workout your improvisation skills to bridge connections and gaps your players make.  You need to get in front of a group of people (sometimes more or less experienced than you) and tell a story that keeps their attention.  It’s a stressful mix of being an improv actor, a storyteller and the physical laws of your world.

Hopefully your players will understand when things get crazy and overwhelming.  Gametime might come to a halt because you need to look up a specific rule or wording that you aren’t familiar with.  It’s okay.  Until you get to know how your game world runs with your players in it, it is totally fine to take a breath and think things through.  Oftentimes you can ask your players for help in making a determination or house-ruling.

Last note on this topic: Get Feedback!  At the end of the session, be bold and ask your players if they enjoyed the session, what they liked and what they didn’t like.  Feedback is how DMs get insight on how the game is playing out.  While you’re DMing, your mind is on a million different topics; let the players tell you how they felt during gameplay, so you know what made them feel good or bad on the other side of the curtain.

4.) Have Fun Together!

This is something that needs to be said, if I’m honest.  Running a game can be a stressful activity that “ruins” some things about it now that you are “behind the curtain”.  This is your first session, in what you hope to be a series of games where you and your friends make all sorts of memories.

However, some DMs get incredibly discouraged and no-nonsense when they run a game for their first few times.  That is understandable, especially if being the “mastermind” is a challenge you haven’t prepared for.  A few sessions in and you might find the game isn’t fun for you and/or your players.  That might be a sign that you need to take a break from hosting–use that time to think how you can make the game fun for everyone, or if this campaign just needs to be scrapped!

The priority of the DM is to bring people together.  If a game system, campaign concept or player actions aren’t making the group (you included) happy; it’s better to stop things and take stock before things go too far.  It is never fun to admit your game isn’t viable or enjoyable, but hopefully you’ll have new experience you can take with you the next time you try your game.  

And heck, if you find you prefer playing at this time, that’s fine!  Even if this attempt didn’t have the results you expected, there is nothing to stop you from trying again later if you wanted.  But now that you know how it is behind the curtain, you are naturally more observant to how your own DM/GM runs their games and you can learn from it.

Remember how good the game system/lore/etc made you feel!  It’s why you wanted to DM in the first place; you recognized you had a story you wanted to tell, and this ttrpg had the tools to bring it to life!  No matter what problems arise when you’re behind the curtain, the game should still bring you enjoyment whether you play or manage the game.  Do not give up on the game just because of one bad session or two!  

When I decided to end my campaign, it really was a painful decision.  I loved the world as it was in my mind, but I was not executing it well so that my players enjoyed it.  I got feedback after that terrible 12 Scorpions combat, and decided to take some time to think about everything.  Our group went back to our original DM, with other members trying to DM in that time; and honestly I didn’t DM until I started a small separate group months later.  

During that gap in DMing I digested what I liked and didn’t like about my campaign, and had more time to reflect on the rules.  I decided to take a few steps back and learn from my mistakes.  I still made mistakes the second and third times I DMed, I make mistakes even to this day.  

But at the heart of it all, I love games so much that I want to constantly make my stories and worlds even better, even to this day.

I take the struggles of DMing as learning experiences, rather than let them define me as a writer, storyteller and game master.  I use them as stepping stones so I don’t fall through the gaps again.  I may have started out with a bad first campaign, but I would never take those mistakes away.  

I hope these lessons were helpful!  I love D&D and tabletop roleplaying games so much, and love giving out advice on how to make the experience your own.  I hope this helps a lot of new people bring their stories to life!  Also, I hope I helped everyone’s expectations into the right state of mind.  

Good luck and happy gaming everyone!!  Much love!

– Aboleth-Eye

[roll20]

Marketplace Roundup: Year in Review

Before we look forward to the new items that have released so far this year, let’s take a second to look back at our Top 5 Independent Creators of 2020. The creators and items listed below were the highest selling non-Roll20 produced pieces of content on our Marketplace. So without further adieu, let’s jump right into the list:

1.HUNTERS ENTERTAINMENT: ALICE IS MISSING | $19.99

Alice is Missing, is a silent role-playing game about the disappearance of Alice Briarwood, a high school junior in the small town of Silent Falls. This immersive, mystery RPG is played without verbal communication. Players inhabit their character for the entirety of the 90-minute play session, and instead of speaking, send text messages back and forth to the other characters in a group chat, as well as individually, as though they aren’t in the same place together.

2. DUNGEON CHANNEL: WEATHER OVERLAYS | $5.99

Weather Overlays is a collection of animations to aid in setting the mood during wilderness encounters.

3. DAVID HEMENWAY: GAME PROPS DUNGEON | $4.99

No longer do your players have to imagine the marble pool and ornate pillars in the chamber they've just entered. Need a cell in the floor for when the PCs get out of hand? Make your RPG come to life with the Game Props Dungeon object set! This pack contains 292 PNG object files you can drop into any map. Each object comes with various rotations to preserve realistic shadows, or you can use the included shadowless version if you prefer. Dressing your dungeon in realistic detail is easy with Game Props!

4. TOM CARTOS (DMDAVE COLLABORATION): HOW THE LICH STOLE CHRISTMAS | $7.99

How the Lich Stole Christmas! is a Fifth Edition adventure for four to six characters of 18th to 20th level, and it is optimized for a party of four characters with an average party level (APL) of 20. Although this is a holiday adventure based on a classic children’s novel, it can easily be inserted into any Fifth Edition campaign setting or run as a stand-alone adventure. Characters of 18th or 19th level who complete this adventure should earn half the necessary experience to reach the next level. 20th-level characters who complete this adventure will earn one of the epic boons detailed at the end of this adventure.

5. NORSE FOUNDRY: WINTER WONDERLAND | $4.99

Time for adventure at the North Pole? Have your players been naughty or nice? Santa as an Orc? A Goblin? A Minotaur? Is that box a gift or perhaps a mimic? 20 tokens to make your holiday gaming a unique experience. Take your Roll20 Game to the next level.

--

As a reminder, we’re matching donations to Code2040, “a nonprofit activating, connecting and mobilizing the largest racial equity community in tech to dismantle the structural barriers that prevent the full participation and leadership of Black and Latinx technologists in the innovation economy.” Learn more and donate through our Tiltify campaign here: http://roll20.io/Tiltify-Code2040

[nerdarchy-blog]

In my last piece I wrote about one of the modules I wrote back in the Mesozoic era.  “After all our 12 year old minds, while imaginative, couldn’t spin a coherent narrative. I still have a dungeon I wrote back then called Torth. It’s… um… well, the Plan 9 of modules. Made no sense.” Within hours, the stalwart and suffering editor sent to me “I am curious about Torth! Although my opinion of Plan 9 is colored by Ed Wood, which I’ve seen several more times than the actual Plan 9 haha.” [NERDITOR’S NOTE: That’s me!] However, by that point the semester was concluding, work was piling up, and I couldn’t do it.  Now the semester is done (I earned 2 A’s and an A-) and here I am sitting on the couch writing about something I wrote some 40 plus years ago. Get off my lawn.

A mockup from the author for Torth: Castle of Evil. Pretty cool if you ask me! Check out the gallery at the end of the post for the creator’s original cover, maps and notes. [Art by Erol Otus]

Torth: Castle of Evil

I started this while I was still the Dungeon Master for my first module, B1: In Search of the Unknown. For those who don’t know this module it was the first Basic Box Set module even before B2: Keep on the Borderlands. While B2 had all the monsters filled in, B1 didn’t. What the writers did for this one was they’d describe the room and leave space for the DM to include Monster then Treasure. So this kid got to enter whatever monster they wished whether they made sense or not. In one room would be a couple of goblins while the next room over (a 20 ft. x 20 ft. no less) would have a red dragon. My player (the Dave I mentioned last column) didn’t care. Kick open the door, kill the monster, collect the treasure (never mind how much people could actually carry), do whatever was in the room (ooh, pools!) then repeat. Yes, that was Quasqueton, stronghold of Rogahn the Fearless and Zelligar the Unknown!

I added a third level to Q, which featured an underground lake with an island on which were the barracks for all the off-duty monsters. There was a bugbear barracks, a room for vampires…you get the idea. That was me trying to figure out a reason for the monster placement.

After that it was Dave’s turn to DM and I played my first character, Apollo. We played almost every night. During study halls or after going home after gaming I started writing what I thought would be my magnum opus! It needed a name. One afternoon when we weren’t playing the Monkees were on TV. One of them was Peter Tork. I changed the name a little and so the module had a name: TORTH!

I started by drawing one third a map, wrote about the rooms, then more map and so on. Oh, this was great stuff! Killer! No character could possibly survive! Plot? What’s that? Dave also wrote some of the dungeon and I asked people who had no idea about the game for trap ideas as well. Torth eventually had three levels, two of which had giant underground lakes (one on top of the other??) with 200 total rooms and was finished on June 10, 1980. I even bought a report folder for it to make it more official and traced the umber hulk picture for the cover. I made the umber hulk the proper colors even though some of the umber hulks appearing in the module are orange. Don’t ask — I’m already embarrassed enough.

Eventually Dave and I learned that a new kid in the school, I’ll call him Rodney, also played D&D! Well, he wanted to learn anyway. He was and still is a goof ball and was enthusiastic about playing. As Dave and I were now experts at the game…hey stop laughing!  Ahem, experts at the game, we would teach him. And where would he learn? TORTH!

You can see this train wreck coming, can’t you?

Not being one to make things easy on himself, and with the new AD&D Player’s Handbook in hand he decided to create a 1st level half-elf fighter/cleric named Pantalian. I, with the brand spanking new Monster Manual, was determined to try all of these new monsters.

The adventurers needed a reason, no matter how flimsy, to enter this dungeon. I reproduce it here, word for word, misspellings and all. On the word for word stuff I’ll insert my comments in italics. Because.

CONTENT WARNING — rape

****************************************************** Many years ago, when orcs ruled the countryside, a magic user came.  He enslaved the orc tribe the green foot and made them build him a castle. The orcs were also forced to build new homes for poor people of the towns they destroyed. The castle was dug deep into the cliff side of a mountain. (So… it was a cave? A castle?)

This good magic user, ruled the countryside fairly the townspeople loved him dearly.

Many a cleric and Magic user came to him to study and for advise.

Soon Torth was getting old, and said he needed an heir. He adopted a boy by the name of Rascen. A few years later, the old wizard died, and left everything to Rascen.

Rascen, like his stepfather, was a good man. He trained to be a druid. (As one who lives in a fancy cave castle does.)

One day while holding the passover feast, the holy grail appeared. This brought pride to Rascen and his people. (Ummm.  Yeah.)

While holding Court a beautiful girl came and stated a powerful knight was disturbing her. Her name was Rachel. Rascen himself slew the knight, and fell in love. (Fell in love with whom? The knight?) Soon Rascen asked Rachael to be his wife. She consented.

A few years, later a son was born. They named him Carnan. He grew up to be a magic-user after his parents died. But Carnan was evil. Carnan ruled harshly until one night, the castle mysteriously caught fire. He was said to be killed, along with other evil clerics and magic users. (Ok, the cave castle caught fire. HOW???)

The townspeople lived in harmony. A knight named Maskoth was appointed mayor. He ruled fairly.

One night, Maskoth disappeared, only to be found the next day, totally insane. He was babbling something about Liches or other evil. He died a few years later of mummy rot disese. This was the first evil. (ooh — scary!)

A sage said there would be six evils on the town. No one believed him. Soon a mysterious beggar came to town. A few days later he killed the captain of the watch. This was the second evil. (Damn mysterious beggars!)

After that, a good cleric came to town, and was told of the two evils and went to the castle, never to be seen again. A month later, bones were found in the woods near the castle. On them was a holy symbol. Scholars doubt this carnage was the cleric, but the people knew it was. This was the third evil. (Scholars studied this???)

The month after the finding of the bones, ghouls, mummies, zombies, wights, wraiths and ghosts plagued the town for one week, killing many. This was the fourth evil. (Okay — this is a town. By this point, there can’t be many people left, and those who survive, why did they stay?)

One night later, a girl named Josephine disappeared. She was found the next day, brutally murdered and raped. This was fifth evil. Now the windows of the castle are scarlet, as if a fire was burning inside. (I was a screwed up kid going for shock value. Also, what windows? There are no windows in the cave castle!)

A few days later all the infants and old men were killed. Evil swept the town. The chapel was burned! The monastery pillaged! This was the final evil. (Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria! Oh wait.)

Now the sage stated that evil will kill us all if it is not removed, and that the source of the evil was the castle. “A fighting man would be needed” stated the sage. That night he died of mysterious causes. (As one does in these tales.)

One night a merchant was passing on a road that is near the castle. He claims he saw a hooded figure in a rear window looking, staring out. The figure was all white, had glowing eyes, and burnt, shabby clothing. (WHAT WINDOWS?) That was last night. Go now to the castle and defeat the evil inside.

(Yeah. Go. Defeat…whatever.)

*****************************************************

Pantalian and his NPCs died very quickly. He was reincarnated five times. He lasted longest as a troll. Then one day his character sheet vanished. Turns out someone we both knew tore it up and flushed it down the toilet. Rodney to this very day blames me for this and in revenge he and the other person destroyed my character’s painstakingly kept journal. However, I was not the culprit. Doesn’t matter, he still blames me.

How did Pantalian die so quickly? Well, here’s a few rooms, typed in exactly as scrawled back then, mistakes and all. The first room the characters will encounter after entering the castle would be room 17, which was a 20 ft. x 40 ft.

“The room is dingy. In the southeast corner is a 10 ft. circular iron cylinder. It has elvish runes on it and cannot be read except by the evil. They tell the history of evil. (That must’ve been small type!) When the door is closed, the lid pops open, orange smoke issues forth and 2 lemures pop out. 7 hp, 13 hp. 1 potion of flying, ring of skeleton, 900 sp.” (The ring would reduce the wearer to a skeleton instantly, no save, just dead.)

It was Pantalian and an NPC fighter. Lemures were devils with 3 HD and regeneration. Only blessed objects could kill them. Of course a brand new player wouldn’t know this, nor would they possess such an item. Or be aware of regeneration. So the lemures just kept coming and Rodney, being the jock type, wasn’t about to run away!

Splat!

He created a second character specifically to go in and drag Pantalian’s body out. He was then resurrected and the second character became an NPC, a half elf fighter/magic-user. Neither lasted long. I decided the player needed help. I know! A magic weapon! I gave a gnoll a longsword +5 Defender. And again, Pantalian fell. His NPCs, as he now kept several, managed to kill the gnoll and get the sword for him. It helped against the night hag in the next room. Seriously.

The true shame of Torth was the way it was designed. This was supposed to be the castle of a good wizard but the map is a jumbled mess. Nowdays if I were to make that map I’d say chaos magic twisted it into its current form. Back then I just figured that dungeon maps were supposed to be mazelike. The Ruins of Undermountain proved me right. Again, I was a kid and hadn’t any experience writing.

Since that time D&D writing improved vastly. Jennell Jaquays introduced the concept of sandboxing an adventure with her Judge’s Guild pieces. Narrative plots began having some depth. Maps began to usually make sense. Also the players, me included, became more experienced along with the game as it developed.

Torth’s ending had the Heart of Evil which had absolutely no reason for existing except as a McGuffin for the character to reach and destroy. Of course in a linear sense it was in the last possible place.

“194 — The Heart of Evil. On the heavy door is a tarnished plaque that says “The Heart of Evil.” (As the major quest targets always do.) If the leader of the party is good, the door only opens on a one (if hit by an evil person.) (Huh?) When the door is open, the outcropping is seen. The two sides emit an orange yellow glow. This is the heart of evil in the castle, placed here by Balzebul. (Why???) This outcropping pulses, for it is alive. AC -2 Hit Dice 5. 21 hp. If the “heart” is threatened, it will summon 5 manes or other devils. When somebody is killed in this room, the heart grows brighter (that is only if a good person is slain, if an evil thing is slain in this room, it dims) Good slain — it gains 1 hp. Evil slain — loses 1 hp. (Fair enough but why only one?) If there is an evil person is in this room during melee, there is a 75% chance that he or she will turn against the good in the party. (Before you ask, there were many rooms that changed the character’s alignment. And every 13-14 year old kid plays chaotic neutral, no matter what their declared alignment.) When the heart is killed, all evil in the castle dies and disintegrates. A cherubim comes to warn the adventurers to leave, for in 12 hours the castle will crumble into dust. (When heart dies the yellow orange glow leaves) (It doesn’t help or anything. It just comes in, makes its grand proclamation and leaves.) Also if the heart is threatened, it will generate an evil energy field. If a good character goes in, they lose 1-4 hp per round. (Oh, by the way, it has protection from good sort of.) 1000 exp for killing the heart.”

Hearts of Evil can be pretty innocuous looking!

  Sigh. When I wasn’t available to DM Dave would DM for me. Eventually, near the end of the first level a magical slide appeared taking whatever character Rodney was playing by that time directly to the island where the Heart of Evil was. No devils popped up but he had a major time beating on the thing before it died. And so ended the only time Torth was ever played, with over two thirds of it avoided.

Why write a column about this aside from the editor asking? I write a lot now between this, my monthly column at Transgender Forum, my blog and other things. Whatever a person creates, be it art of some kind, writing, song or whatever they leave a piece of themselves in it. That’s why no two artist’s works are alike or no two authors (not counting intentional style stealing.) Torth took me quite some time to write during a tumultuous time in my life.

It was around this time that my inner demons, which I later understood to be my misplaced gender identity, really began to plague me. Also around this time I started studying martial arts as I was tired of the beatings I received at the hands of bullies. Add to that I was a late bloomer and while all the other kids were hitting puberty, I wasn’t. I dreaded puberty as I knew it would make me exactly what U didn’t want to be: a man. All of this and more all swirled in my head. My only real escape then was gaming, especially D&D.

As I wrote above, when someone writes they bring part of themselves and that includes D&D adventures. I have since that time written over 100 D&D adventures for my players or for others to run. I haven’t read Torth since, well, 1980 or 81. I’ve kept it in my pile of D&D papers or with my modules since then and it’s moved with me many times. I started reading it for this piece and I had to stop. Yes, some of what’s written is Ed Wood bad or worse. That’s not what stopped me, nor was it the poor penmanship, as it was all written in longhand (in pencil!).

I stopped because what I read was a howl of anguish (cliché, I know) from a child who knew they were different, couldn’t understand how or why and whose life was changing and out of control. I was lashing out at whatever caused me pain. I can tell when Rodney started playing. Rodney was a goofball and is still a great friend but he was also a jock. He would become a champion wrestler, attend VMI and serve as an officer in the Army like all men in his family before him. He was everything I wasn’t. Unconsciously, I lashed out at him through the module. There were many times in Torth where the characters were magically transformed, just as I wished I could be.

So yes, Torth was a train wreck but so was I. In many ways I’m still that child struggling against all I am. However I now understand who I am and have the power to change what I don’t like. Rodney and I still play D&D every other weekend on Roll20, as he lives in Michigan. And he still brings up Torth every session. Other players live in Philly, Maine and one here in State College. They’re going through Keep on the Borderlands — my selection. It reminds me of a far more innocent time when gaming was just gaming, yet also a lifeline to other worlds. Sometimes an orc is just an orc after all.

Be well.

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Original cover for Torth: Castle of Evil

Grid map of the Castle of Evil dungeon

Dungeon Master’s notes for Torth: Castle of Evil

Torth Updated!

Step back in time with our resident old school D&D creator to explore Torth: Castle of Evil! (warts and all) #staynerdy In my last piece I wrote about one of the modules I wrote back in the Mesozoic era.  

[ecotone99]

[HM] Insert Quarter - Journey to Nostalgiatron

Insert Quarter - Journey to Nostalgiatron

CHAPTER ONE

“I’m gonna need that last Dragonball,” said an exhausted Goku. He was clutching at his scuffed up arm and hovering in the air over the smouldering crater that used to be New Chicago’s Optimus Prime Memorial Shopping Centre.

I fumbled around in my messenger bag, Pokemon Badge pins jingling as I searched. My prize wasn’t hard to find, it’s perfectly crystalline structure and impossibly smooth spherical face sang as my quivering fingers wrapped around it’s weighty shape.

“Goku!” I called out, thrusting the number four ‘ball into the air above me. “I’ve got it right here!”

I had just scrambled halfway up a broken radio mast next to the crater. Goku turned his head to look at me. His triceps were flaring, and his shoulder striations were insane. He saw the ‘ball in my outstretched hand and guffawed. He turned his floating body to face me, and, in slow motion, began reaching out a hand toward me. But it was too late.

“It’s going to take a lot more than that to defeat me.” The voice was familiar. Stoic, distinctly American. Humble, but backed by so much power. A hand burst out from beneath a pile of dust and rubble, then suddenly there was a burst of light and a shockwave blew the rubble pile away. When the dust settled, a lone caped figure stood clad in blue, with chest pushed out and a red and yellow “S” emblem emblazoned on his breast.

It was Superman, obviously.

You’re probably wondering what the heck is going on. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Slater Johnson. I’m just a regular high school kid who likes to play videogames and shred it up on my skateboard. And, oh yeah, and I’m the prophesized chosen one who’s meant to guide all mankind during the coming apocalypse-war. But let’s backtrack.

The year was 2013. I’d just won first place in the all-state skate competition and my crush, Yvonne Christiansen, was there watching me finish out my last fakie bigspin into a wallride, which I landed perfectly. I knew that my last trick would’ve set me so far ahead of the other skaters that I had no chance of losing. I skidded to a stop in front of her in the crowd. She smiled at me. I threw my thumb and pinky finger up, gave it a shake, and pushed off toward the podium.

After the last competitor went, the points were tallied and the placements were being awarded. 3rd and 2nd were called, but then it was the big moment.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” announced the mayor. “I’m proud to announce that your all time biggest and baddest winner of the all-state skate competition is..” My heart jumped. “Slater Johnson!”

The crowd went nuts. I gave my great looking hair a quick flip to keep the flow fresh, then sauntered up. I shook the mayor’s hand and stepped toward the trophy on the table. As soon as I set my hands on the gold plated winners cup, a sudden flash of light rushed out. There was a blast that threw me twenty, maybe even thirty feet away.

Long story short, all universes converged into ours. A portal opened up to the Sanctum (the place where I would later do all my martial training with Goku and Batman) and I was left standing there in front of Gandalf the White, who had also just appeared. He told me I was the Chosen One who was destined to save all mankind. I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, geezer,” I effortlessly kicked up my skateboard into my hand and turned away. “I have to go to nationals now that I won state! Find someone else to do your prophecy, old timer.”

Gandalf didn’t look pleased. His brow was all kinds of furrowed, and he leaned forward on his eldritch stave. He closed his eyes and I could hear him mumbling just over the crackling hum of the Otherworld Portal.

“He’s the hero we need, but his reluctance to take the mantle worrying..”

At that moment, Yvonne, the hottest and most popular girl at the school (also my crush) came running up and hugged me. I was stunned.

“Oh Slater!” She said, through the tears. Just like all females, she was letting her emotions get the better of her. I didn’t blame her; this day had been nuts. I landed some fire tricks during the competition, and then also the whole universes thing was crazy, but I remained stoic and steadfast. I could feel her cans squeezing against my chest. Nice.

“Slater, I thought you were dead!” She looked up at me. “I was worried you would have died and we never even got a chance to be boyfriend and girlfriend!”

I tilted my head toward the horizon, the wind blowing my awesome hair softly. “Well, Yvonne,” I said, in gravelly tones. “After I turned down that whole chosen one thing just now, my schedule’s wide open. Wanna go to the mall sometime?”

“Like a date?” She asked, the sound of hope teased in that last escalated octave.

“Just like a date,” I said, turning to look at her. There was a halo’s glow emanating around her pretty face. It looked angelic, or like as if you turned on a spotlight right behind someone and then they obscured the light. Little did I know, in that moment, that this was the exact thing that was happening.

“So,” she said, wiping tears from her soft, girly cheeks. “I guess that makes me your girlfriend.”

The halo around her got brighter, and the sound of a gigantic transforming robot priming an arm-mounted serrated blade punctuated the tender moment. I smiled.

“Yeah,” I said. “I guess it does make you my girlfriend now.”

And literally the moment I said that, a gigantic robot hand reached out from behind her and grabbed her by the torso, lifting her up. It was Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, and he ran her through with his armblade. It was super gory, and unnecessarily brutal. Chunks were going everywhere. She seemed like a really nice girl. Now that I think about it, nothing this gratuitously gory or violent would even come close to happening during my following adventures. Even with the whole shopping centre crater thing, it was at least implied at the time that the city had been evacuated.

The sight of my eviscerated girlfriend’s body, rent asunder by the almighty power of the Dark Emperor of Destruction and scattered limp across the ground filled me with rage. Skateboard in one hand, clenched fist in the other (my fist, not Yvonne’s severed hand which was also nearby), I cranked by head over my shoulder.

“Wizard,” I barked toward Gandalf. “I’ll do it.”

CHAPTER 2

After the whole beginning part of my journey had finished, it was on to the exciting stuff. A year had passed, but the world had irrevocably changed. Firstly, I was a senior, applying to colleges and just really hoping to make the best of my last school year, which was starting in a few days. Also, the city of New Chicago had sprung up in the middle of the Atlantic ocean. A sprawling megalopolis, characterized by its crazy futuristic style buildings and towering towers, the city had become my new home in my quest to save mankind.

I grinded my hoverboard along the LightRail home after a long day of questing. Under my guidance, the Infinity Cabal had been scouring every swarthy hole and teetering precipice of New Chicago for the last Dragonball. We had six of them in our possession, which Goku was using to train with in the Sanctum. I liked to join him from time to time, sparring with him and Batman. They were worthy foes, and definitely tested my abilities. I count Goku as one of my best friends, and I’m grateful that he treats me just the same.

Life in New Chicago was rough. Gangs ruled the streets, which was fine by me because I skatejack the LightRails high aboveground, weaving in and out of the towers. Skatejacking is what you do when you jack your board onto the LightRails and skate it the hell up. It’s a super cool and dangerous way to get around the city, but the Infinity Cabal doesn’t mind. Being cool and dangerous is in our DNA.

Pulling around a long curve, I suddenly remembered where I was - rounding the corner of a building, the imposing frame of the Icecrown Citadel came into view. I knew that, on its mantel, Lich King Megatron was sitting on the Frozen Throne. An Undead horde shuffled around the packed-ice plaza at the base of the rock hard shaft. I could feel his cold gaze, piercing through me. I couldn’t see him from my great distance, but I knew he was looking. A feeling of dread washed over me. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest and a pressure building up within me. As the sensation crescendoed, and I continued skatejacking the LightRail, a building suddenly obscured the Icecrown Citadel from view. In that moment, I felt an immediate relief.

“Note to self,” I noted to myself. “Don’t stray too close to the Icecrown.”

After I recovered from my Heebie Jeebies, I kicked it into high gear and continued jacking to the extreme, all the way back to the hideout. I hopped off the rail and, flying through the air, grabbed onto a vertical pole, swinging around a corner and landing on my feet with my hoverboard in one hand. I flipped my sunglasses up onto my forehead and approached the 7/11 that was the front operation for our secret hideout. I filled up my Slurpee with Red Flavor Drink Type Slushed Ice Beverage and set it on the secret plinth that activates the hidden door, which then caused the entire wall to recess backward.The ten foot gear interchange system, now exposed by the wall’s recession, ground loudly and worked the clandestine door to the right. The stealthy process was slow, and shook most of the building. I took the time to snag a couple Buffalo Chicken Taquitos for the wait.

After only dozens of minutes, the hidden door was done churning open. I clambered over the rack trench, being careful not to get any limbs or digits caught in the pinion housing. While ducking underneath the input-shaft ports, I made sure to only utilize established handholds, clear of any hydraulic lines and out of the way of inner or outer tie-rods (which connected to the main assembly). Luckily for me, those handholds were delineated and painted in with Safety Yellow signage, so I knew just where to grasp. The rotary valve was still evacuating steam, so I was careful to note the times of discharge so as to duck through without being scalded.

After a close shave with a flailing pressure tube, I put both feet on the ground on the other side of the rack trench before letting go of the handholds. I patted myself down, realizing I forgot my hoverboard on the 7/11 side of the door and rack trench. I went back, got it, and returned to the hideout side, activating the quick release on the door which slammed the bolt catch roll pin out of place, allowing the takedown pin to fire the buffer spring and quickly haul the secret door back into place with a crash that shook the whole building. No one was the wiser.

“Slater!” Cried out a voice. I recognized it immediately. It was Ash Ketchum, The Very Best. He had his original style hat on, so you knew it was at least generation I or II. Ash was walking up to me, and Pikachu was bouncing around and being almost intolerably cute.

“Walk with me, Ash.” I said, hurrying down the corridor. I was jonesing for a bathroom break after those taquitos but all the single stall bathrooms were downstairs, and the stairwell was on the other side of the building. “How are the men?” I asked, as Ash got alongside.

“Well,” he closed his eyes and reached his arm over his shoulder and seemed to scratch the back of his own neck. It was a really annoying and over-the-top gesture. “I guess some of the guys are a little tired after all our recent questing and training! They sure could use a break.”

I handed Pikachu the rest of my Buffalo Chicken Taquito. “Well,” I grumbled. “You know who doesn’t get tired? Our enemy.” It was true, too. The NecroLeague of Doom seemed to have an infinite supply of energy. Their forces were many, and their plots dastardly. A complete roster of their troops is attached to this novel as ADDENDUM A, but a short-list is featured below.

Lich King Megatron (Combination of The Lich King and also Megatron)

Sinbad the Sailor (Popeye version)

Darth Vader

Hitler 2.0 (Basically also Darth Vader)

Bowser from Super Mario

Sauron

Frieza

Harvey Weinstein CBE (The Weinstein Company)

Lich King Megatron was their leader. He summited the Icecrown Citadel in search of Shia LeBoeuf’s grandfather’s eyeglasses, for whatever reason, but found only Bolvar Fordragon, wearing the helm and mantle of the Lich King. Encased in fel-ice, Fordragon didn’t stand a chance against the unbridled power of Megatron. In a less gruesome display than when he murdered my girlfriend (which was so brutal that I decided to accept my fate as awesome hero of the world), Megatron destroyed Fordragon and took the helmet for himself. He then became the new Lich King and would become unstoppable. Except I was going to stop him for sure.

Ash complimented me on my hair and cool moves. He also let me know he was having a few friends over for a birthday party next weekend, and I said I’d be down. I’m very thankful to have so many people who are friends with me and enjoy my various insights and jokes. I figured I’d go to his party since they all came to my surf competition last week (I won first place).

Ash told me that the boys were meeting in the Meeting Chamber and that I should get up there as quick as I could. Time was running out, so I powered my way up the stairs, kicking it into high gear and even taking them two at a time. I wasn’t even using the railing, just balancing myself as I throttled up.

I was taking it right to the edge, almost at my breaking point, when the last couple steps were in sight. With one last, desperate burst of raw power and energy I threw myself forward into the air and up three full steps. I landed with one foot on the precipice of the landing, and my center of mass teetered over my central axis. I repositioned my arms out in front of me, using them as a kind of ballast, and bent at the knees and lower back. With one last effort, I thrust my hips forward and settled myself fully. Mission accomplished.

“Nice moves,” said Kanye West. He was wearing the coolest sneakers you’ve ever seen.

“Thanks Kanye,” I said to Kanye. “All in a day’s work. What’s the situation?”

“I’m glad you asked,” said Kanye as he stood up and gestured to the viewscreen (basically just a TV). “LKM’s forces are on the move. He’s set up defenses here, here and here.” Kanye was gesturing to the huge TV (the viewscreen) at anywhere between two and four points on the New Chicago map. I squinted my eyes.

“Wait a second,” I commanded. “Computer!”

The lights around the edge of the display (viewscreen, or “teevee” as some call it) lit up and a gentle chime hummed.

“Draw lines between each of those points.”

“Okay,” said COM.P.U.T.er. “I’m drawing lines between each of the points on the map of New Chicago.”

Slowly, an eerie red pillar extended out from each of the points toward the direction of another. It was like a spider’s web of lines extending, except not as many as that. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A terrifying shape began to form. My jaw dropped.

“My god,” I said. “It’s a --”

“It’s a triangram,” said a breathy, incredulous voice with an english accent. The voice seemed to come from the ground somewhere. I looked around, then craned my neck and head forward, angling it toward the floor. Scouring that lower altitude in such a fashion was a strategy that bore fruit - there, at my feet, stooped Peter Dinklage. I called down to him.

“Peter!” I cupped one hand around my mouth so as to help project my voice downard. “What do you know of triangrams?”

He looked all the way up toward the heaven - up toward me. He was speaking again, but I could not hear. I bent down, descending from on high. His impish words became audible.

“Triangrams are a kind of runic, sacred shape produced by the culmination of no less than 3 points, except also no more than that either.” He looked back up toward the viewscreen. “They were used in pagan times as a cheaper and more cost effective version of the pentagram. The pagans of the time realized that something with five sides looks close enough to something with three if you just squint.” At this point, Peter reached both his arms out as if to behold the might of some vista or wondrous architecture. He squinted hard. “It is, as the Romans said, duabus partibus occultus...”

He dropped his arms back down to his side, formed a kind of grim countenance and threw his grim gaze up toward me. “The Two Secret Sides!”

I gasped. It made sense. Pentagrams have five sides and triangrams only had three! That was a difference of two. The implication being two other sides, invisible to the naked eye, hidden within the triangram. This revelation was totally nuts and I didn’t expect it.

Obviously I was worried about the sudden appearance of a triangram in New Chicago, but with school starting tomorrow, I had enough on my plate. I hit up Old Navy to put together a fire fit for the first day.

CHAPTER 3 In Progress

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[guywithtime2kill]

Adventure Time: "You Blew It Man!" An Essay Adventure Time“You Blew It Man!”Hello everyone! I’ve been a fan of Adventure Time since its conception, and I’ve often read the thoughtful and intriguing discussions posted on this subreddit. However, I was often hesitant and nervous about positing my own opinions of this show, especially since I was shy and never quite built enough confidence to put myself out there. Now that it is all coming to an end, though, and I see just how loving, dedicated, and supportive the people here are to Adventure Time and for each other, I wanted to post something. Thank you for helping me gather the courage to speak about this crazy, unique, sprawling, imaginative, daring, silly, philosophical, emotional, hopeful, and very mathematical show. It’s a long list, and it’s a testament to this “kid’s cartoon” with all of its creativity and heart that I could use a thousand more words and still have more to say. In the ever expanding and inventive medium of television, Adventure Time proudly stands on its own as a beacon of childhood and hope.To be entirely truthful, Finn the Human is not my favorite character. He is not always interesting and entertaining; and, in his more emotionally volatile years, he can be painful to watch as he flounders in a swirling, violent vortex of relationships and heartbreak. Even at his most selfish and vulnerable, though, Finn is loyal, caring, and righteous; in the context of a coming of age epic, he makes for a great and compelling main character. His development is gradual and meaningful, and this development of his character as he matures and grows is significant enough that we observe a different Finn in each season without losing sight of his heroic heart and noble spirit. There’s the head-strong adventure-seeking child of Season 1, the more accepting and quietly emotional adolescent of Season 3, the sexually awakened and selfish teenage of Season 5, the contemplative youth of Season 6, and the insightful and intelligent young man of Season 7 and Season 8. The episodes focusing on Finn may not always be of high quality, but they all do their best to work in service of his character.The gradual growth of Finn from season to season as he enters manhood is surely impressive, but to see how he also maintains his most important characteristics while he still changes is frankly astounding. Even the best of animated main characters such as Steven Universe or Aang (not “Ung” from the movie adaptation, God help us all) from Avatar: The Last Airbender often stagnate for long periods of time or occasionally act out of character. There are definitely a few hiccups in Finn’s development, such as the return of his arm in “Breezy” (Finn still gets some great development in Season 6 and I love this episode for its handling of depression, but this arm conflict was a big missed opportunity). However, unlike with Aang or Steven, we never lose sight of Finn as a character. He always stays the one true hero of Ooo, and all I can say to that is, “Schmowzow!”Now, I want to discuss a controversial episode which not only showed Finn at one of his lowest emotional points but also hurled a blazing spear of such tremendous velocity and intense force that it impaled and scattered the entirety of Adventure Time’s fan base. This episode is Season 5’s “Frost and Fire.” I was fifteen, just starting high school, at the time. I remember Cartoon Network absolutely hyping the shit out of this new episode, the advertisements exclaiming this was an event not to be missed. Will anything happen to Finn and FP? Is Ice King going to threaten their heating relationship? Stay tuned at (insert time here) and watch the sparks fly! The commercials were probably not that cheesy and strained, but from the crude way a large portion of the fan base strived to match any of the characters into a forced romantic relationship and the poor treatment the channel later gave to its more quality shows, they might as well have been that cringe inducing. The ads were also manipulative in that they influenced many anticipated fans to believe the episode would potentially be another emotionally draining melodrama which further developed Finn and FP’s relationship into something akin to “true love.”It is perfectly understandable why fans held this view, for Cartoon Network was also manipulative in the way they advertised Season 4’s “Burning Low,” a good episode in its own right, as essentially a love triangle among Finn, PB, and FP. The episode certainly possessed romance and dramatic tension, but the focus was on Finn finally expressing his emotions to Bubblegum and the rage he feels for being so conflicted. Flame Princess’s characterization is actually rather thin, and she has very few lines of dialogue here. However, as the commercials depicted and exaggerated, the episode’s drama was genuinely engaging and the emotions brutally raw. More importantly, Finn and FP officially kissed on screen, which solidified their relationship status for many of the fans. There was an intimacy there which few shows, even those developed for adults, could capture well. In addition, Finn is compelling and human enough character that we want to see him succeed and find someone special to live his life with. For a maturing adolescent wandering through a cheerfully bleak land of isolation and sweetness, FP was someone wonderful. If anyone doubts the impact and influence “Burning Low” had on fans, the episode is recorded to have the highest ratings in the show’s entire run, right in the middle of a season with heavy episodes like “I Remember You” and “The Lich.”Of course, Adventure Time doesn’t act like most television shows and is nearly unpredictable, which directly puts it at odds with fans who want to take a more conventional and traditionally satisfying route. If television shows were like rivers with the occasional twist and turn, serenely flowing to their natural conclusions, then Adventure Time is a torrential rapid which breaks off into hundreds of smaller tributaries before pouring up a cliff side as a reverse waterfall, defying the gravity of expectations as it strives for the clouds themselves. And in the midst of ever expanding, the main river takes a moment before flowing naturally again to tumble and swirl into the violent whirlpool that is “Frost and Fire.”There are probably several reasons why this episode plummeted into controversy, but the most important one is also the easiest to identify: Finn and FP broke up over a wet dream. There’s no point denying whether what he did was truly wrong: Finn experienced a sexual awakening and exploited the insecurities of his trusting hot tempered girlfriend and a demented old soul to manipulated them into harming and potentially annihilating one another, all because he wants to get aroused. Consequently, Ice King lost his home, FP lost her only friend, and Finn utterly blew it. I remembered thinking what the Hell just happened, more so than the average episode. Why would Finn act like such a prick of a dick? In retrospect, the answer is simple: Finn is a teenager, and teenagers can do some really stupid shit. As a teenager at the time, I was too self-absorbed to understand why Finn did that shit, but I definitely thought what he and the show did was stupid. Finn is certainly a noble and heroic spirit, but he is also figuratively and literally human. He has no one like him who fully understands what he is going through and how to confront such feelings like arousal. Jake, the wonderful brother he is, simply does not comprehend this aspect of Finn. He does know about prophetic dreams and fate, though, which is why he encourages Finn to commit the deed. Therefore, Finn is essentially alone stumbling in the dark chambers of the dungeon of adolescence, and he poked some big ass monster with his sword trying to find the way out.However, adolescence is not the only reason why Finn acted this way; selfishness is another integral aspect of Finn’s character which motivates some of his actions, and it’s just prevalent enough to be more than just simply being naïve or bull headed. Finn has occasionally harmed others, usually unintentionally, in order to help himself or someone for whom he cares deeply. Unintentional or not, though, the pain is very real. Take Season 2’s “Storytelling,” for example, when Finn abuses multiple innocent animals to create a good story for Jake, or “To Cut a Woman’s Hair” when Finn tries to save Jake from a witch’s bottomless bottom by stealing and/or harassing princesses for their hair. Or how about “Another Way,” where Finn beats up anything and everything to get his foot healed and avoid his fears, or that time in “Sons of Mars” when Finn essentially killed the King of Mars out of his deep caring and tunnel vision to save Jake, or “The Lich,” where Finn steals from every princess in Ooo in order to help BILLYEEE for a highly ambiguous purpose? Better yet, what about “All the Little People,” where Finn gets a chance to play God and fiddle with the lives and relationships of tiny figurines without once questioning their own individuality?The reason Finn’s selfishness is not addressed more often is because Finn has enough of a conscience to later realize what he did was wrong and apologize for said wrong doing. These apologies were enough to patch up the problems with most of the characters he harmed. However, his crime in “Frost and Fire” cuts too deep into a very complex relationship to be forgive so easily with words. As Magusmirificus refers to, this is the point where Finn needs to stop viewing his life as a video game and treat it and the people around him with nuance and consideration. Considering Finn’s own father is Martin, a pompous dingwad who is sucked so far up his own ass that he’s his own black hole, distorting everything around while he himself is filled with nothingness, it is amazing Finn is not even more selfish. That is because Finn has friends who care about him and a brother who loves him. Finn has, as Martin puts it, “a star to revolve around.” The pain Finn feels may last for some time, but it is not forever, and as we see in Season 7, he becomes all the better of person and friend precisely due to everything he has gone through. From here on out, Finn eventually conquers his selfishness and becomes truly selfless.Not everything following “Frost and Fire” is great: Finn is too horrifically awkward to watch in “The Red Throne” considering he already tried this with PB earlier in “Too Old” (an episode I personally really like), and Flame Princess is not strong enough of a character to carry said “Red Throne” or the rather lukewarm “Earth and Water.” However, there is something beautiful in seeing Finn grow in episodes that range from very good to downright brilliant. That is because the crew is so dedicated to Finn as a character and put a lot of effort into making the arc “Frost and Fire” ignited truly work.In addition, there’s really no way to get around this episode when revisiting the show; it is too grounded in the series’ past. We have Finn’s slight selfishness as a character and his initial sexual arousal from “All the Little People” come into play. There are the prophetic dreams and Cosmic Owl from “The Final Frontier” as well as a callback to PB’s probable German roots. We have Ice King’s tragic backstory being acknowledged as Finn abuses him. And, of course, there is the collapsing relationship between FP and Finn that started from “Incendium” onwards. Likewise, the episode greatly influences the events to come that will affect Finn and his friends’ lives. Such events include Finn and FP’s breakup, the destruction of Ice King’s home, the dissolving of Finn’s demon sword due to Ice King’s antics, FP dealing with her betrayal and her subsequent transformation into a ruler who focuses on trust, Finn’s torment and anguish following the breakup, the introduction of the grass sword, the loss of Finn’s arm and the birth of Fern. Many of these plots last several seasons, even extending to the end of the series, and they all stem from the tragedy which occurs here. As suggested by “The Comet,” even the most insignificant act has consequences which go far beyond what we can see and feel. This immaculate randomness and the very real and caring individuals it encompasses is what life is all about.A major component of Adventure Time’s success and identity is its portrayal of childhood and its real sense of hop, that everything will turn out all right. However, in order to confront maturity and retain such hope, Finn, that boy adventurer in a bear hat who in some way represents all of us, has to be challenged in the face of all sorts of adversities, whether it’s candy zombies, selfish acts, the Lich, sexual awakenings, an uncaring father, isolation, or the death of a best friend and brother. If hope can survive that, through apocalypse, adolescence, and loss, then even wonders like Ooo can prosper from destruction, and a young man can have a life that is happy and truly worth living.I know that this was a long ramble which went everywhere and nowhere in particular, but I’m glad I was finally able to speak my mind on this special show. If you still hate this episode with a fiery passion or icy disdain, that is perfectly fine! If you think I’m full of it and want to set me straight, I would welcome such a conversation. To be able to discuss this show, no matter the opinion, is fun, educational, and helps me to become a better and more understanding individual. My only hope is that you give this episode another chance and try watching with a fresh perspective, for even when you become an adult, as a wise nut once said, “You never really stop growing.”Thank you.