#one of which is actually a cow (firbolg)

[whimsicmimic]

if you want to! tell us more about your lizard PCs because i’m so angry on your behalf from those tags

ohhhh i will HAPPILY talk about my old lizards, Especially the First Lizard, Avra Ree, because Avra Ree went on a fucking Journey.

So this! Is Avra Ree, she was a copper dragonborn and a death cleric, and she was my First Ever DnD Character. She was a fucking mess, both wrt stats (because none of us knew what we were doing; fucking TAZ:Balance taught me more about mechanics than my group at the time, and Balance was. Hooo boy.) and in terms of group cohesion, but that’s okay, because I loved her!

The gist of Avra was that she came from a clan of dragonborn that worshipped a goddess of death and rot. It was a heavily isolated group, and in leaving it to go on a pilgrimage, this would be Avra’s first time encountering the new world around her. She was full of love and joy, and she was Terrified of rain and water. She was a mortician, and regarded death with a certain gentleness and love. She also had a brother, who died from illness at a young age; she never really moved on from the grief, and kept his skull, which she kept with her and used as a spell focus.

The core themes of Avra’s character were isolation, love, and grief.

I’d play her like a few more times over the years (once in another campaign that never really took off the ground, and a few more times in one-shots) but it wouldn’t be a while until she came back.

In February of 2019, my buddy Hollis wanted to run a campaign. We were RP partners at the time! I went yea sure count me in!!!!!!

I knew I wanted to play Avra again, but I kinda wanted to mix up her design after the last few years of Lizard. so ENTER!!!! Marvey!!!!!!

Avra Ree would be rewritten as a firbolg grave cleric named Himemiya “Marvey” Llue.

Over the course of Everything, there’d been more lorework and detail given to her backstory and the setting of it.

She’d be from a clan of firbolg living in an archives that once was the hoarde of an ancient silver dragon, which was regarded as the savior of their people. They were dedicated to the preservation of knowledge above all else. Though the Great Dragon was long dead by the time Marv came about, the logul people were dedicated to the preservation of the hoarde and its expansion! On occasion, people would leave the mountain to go back out into the world and gather more books, articles, papers, newspapers, paintings — anything they could get their hands on, really. Go out, learn more about your field of study, come back and report what new discoveries had been made, if any.

Marvey’s mother would leave on a pilgrimage. She’d leave her kid and her husband behind with bright eyes and promises to be back in a few years, and then she never came back. So! Later on. Marvey would also leave. Head out into the world, find out what happened to her mother and maybe find some closure.

She’d become a cleric of Jergal, after finding a dilapidated temple of his that’d been taken over and inhabited by all sorts of imps and other nasty critters + helping clearing it out and tidying it up.

Core themes of her character were once again love, death, grief, and isolation, and some of her central conflicts revolved around trauma as a result of heavy childhood neglect, (more) grief, and also unlearning harmful shit from your upbringing and environment.

Also? Anger. Oh my god. Anger.

Marvey had ! Many, many issues. There was a big conflict between her and another party member early on that neither one of them really recovered from, and it ended up becoming a big issue that was slowly driving the party apart. Marvey was also fucking, deeply deeply angry and felt things VERY intensely, which ended up causing a lot of problems vis a vis character bleed for me, and it ended up negatively impacting my mental health to the point where we made the hard decision to let Marvey go + start playing another character.

We never found Marv’s mom, and Marv never got her closure.

Instead, Marv joined the mafia. She now — post campaign — acts as a doctor for the mob + runs a small community clinic by herself. She’s a fixture of her newfound community, and she’s fiercely protective of this small corner of the city she’s made for herself.

HOWEVER.

Avra Ree had a Real Cute Design, didn’t she? And I kinda wanted to play a lizard again after so many years. I made a lot of mistakes with Marvey; she was a source of conflict, when I wanted her to be more soft and warm, the glue that holds the party together. So when Marvey and Ish (Marv’s replacement)’s campaign ended, we decided to return to lizard.

Enter: Tamara Bhatt

This is Tama, my sweet beloved Tama. I love her So Much. She’s a brass dragonborn gunslinger/rogue. She is!!! Just A Guy! And i’m Insane about her.

She’s the oldest of five, and she comes from a very small town. She left home to head north into her country’s capital to apprentice under a weaponsmith. The way that she joined the party/campaign? Her mentor was having her deliver a package in person to one of their clients (an npc named Yu Huang, a famous actor and important political heir a few countries over. Tama and Huang would later become Best Fucking Friends.)

She’s Just A Fucking Guy, but she’s got some of The Best characterization I’ve EVER done, and I just really have a fucking blast playing her. I love this lizard so much. She’s just a guy. Just a small town lizard who went into the Big City to deliver a package, met some people, and now she’s so thoroughly entangled in this deep web of conflict with no way out. To protect one of our party members, our only options are to Get Famous, or Die Trying, and now? Tama’s in far too deep.

If I had to assign her core themes, they’d be identity, what it means to be brave, family, and isolation vs community. And Love, of course. You can fit So Much Love in this lizard.

It’s been really interesting though! Because Avra most certainly became Marvey, but Tama’s character was certainly informed by mistakes I made with playing Marv. Marv was a character who would’ve been really fun to read in a story, sure, and I love her to bits! But ultimately, she wasn’t a character well-suited for an improvisational cooperative game. She was too heavily developed, and it made her incredibly rigid. She was sweet and friendly, but INCREDIBLY stubborn and Driven. I wanted her to be a stabilizing force for the party, but she ended up becoming a source of conflict.

With Tama, though? I’ve actually managed to succeed! Tama is likeable! She’s the Big Sister of the party, the one people turn to for comfort, the mediator. There was a two-session gap where Tama actually died during combat, and her body had to be left behind, causing a lot of uncertainty and grief in the party because That’s Tama, and We Left Her Behind, and What If We Never Get Her Back? and ngl, it was genuinely Fascinating to see the hole Tama left in the party, because her absence was VERY MUCH felt!!!! You could see the arguments play out and all the spots where Tama would usually step in and help work things out, and it was ROUGH!!!!!!

But ! Idk man, I just think its Neat. That’s the story of my first DnD character, Avra Ree, who paved the way for Marvey and Tama, all three of which who are Distinct, but also kinda overlapping still. Its neat!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

TADC Playing D&D

(ALL PLATONIC/FAMILIAL.)

Caine is the DM obviously

Pomni plays a Firbolg Warlock (but her Firbolg’s design is the one that looks like a cow. y’all know the one. it’s the only valid design for a Firbolg)

Jax plays a Tiefling Rogue (obviously)

Ragatha plays an Aasimar Cleric (also obviously)

Zooble plays a Changeling Barbarian

Gangle plays a Gnome Druid

Kinger plays a Warforged Artificer

And then Caine reveals the plot twist: it’s gonna be irl dnd, and they ACTUALLY PLAY their characters

They’ve got costumes and their character traits and everything! Like, Ragatha gets angel wings, Jax has horns, Pomni gets a tail (because, again, cow-like Firbolgs are the only right way to design Firbolgs, and you can pry that from my cold, dead hands)

The terrain also changes into the same terrain as wherever they adventure to

Antics ensue!

Zooble is the tank

And they can instill the fear of god upon man

But you know who else can be scary as fuck?

Ragatha

Have you ever fought a Forge Cleric before? Did you know those bitches can wear Heavy Armor?

Combat is WILD when they’re actually acting it out

Though, it can barely be considered “acting” because Caine has somehow made magic possible????

Kinger asks to make the most wild shit because he thinks it’s fun

Gangle once got downed, got to two (2) failed Death Saves, was brought back up, and then was IMMEDIATELY downed again

Pomni gets anxiety over even the most mundane of rolls

She was asked to roll Perception, and she was sweating buckets, afraid to fail and screw everything up, and it was literally just to find a nice bakery in the city they were at

Jax asks to pickpocket orphans

Ragatha: Pomni, why is your Strength a seven???

Pomni: i don’t want to talk about it

Her Unarmed Strike literally does zero (0) damage

She never uses her weapon ever

Only Eldritch Blast

She also uses other spells ofc, but Eldritch Blast is her go-to

“Doll Face, i’m down” “Pomni’s having a panic attack” “okay, and? i’m downed”

Jax and Ragatha have beef the Whole Time

“why did you think you could hide in an empty arena??” “because i’m a Rogue, and they have Advantage on hiding!” “IT IS AN EMPTY ARENA WITH NOTHING BUT SAND.” “I AM A ROGUE WITH ADVANTAGE TO HIDING.” “THE ARENA IS EMPTY. THERE IS NOWHERE TO HIDE.”

Despite being a Firbolg, which is considered a race of Giant, Pomni is STILL considered as a Small creature (due to her own height)

Because of this, she can ride every single other person in the party, as the Ride rules in dnd state that a willing creature at least one size larger than you and has appropriate anatomy can serve as a mount

This has started a “technique” the group has named “War Horsing”

In which Pomni sits on someone’s shoulders and spams Eldritch Blast non-stop while the other person wrecks house

(She usually sits on Zooble’s shoulders and Cure Wounds them whenever they take too much damage)

She’s also called the “cannon” of the group because she’ll sit on Zooble’s shoulders and use Fireball

Speaking of Fireball!

The gang once found Beads of Fireball, and Jax, wanting to be a boss bitch and show how much better than everyone he is by single-handedly killing this super hard boss they were fighting, thought that because he’s a Tiefling and Tieflings have Resistance to Fire Damage, he could easily survive a blast.

Anyway, he ended up taking 80d6 Fire Damage after he threw all ten (10) beads at once.

Even when the damage was halved, he still died instantly.

Ragatha considered if it was worth it to Revivify him.

Pomni uses Speech of Beast and Leaf to speak with plants, and the plants just cuss her out.

Zooble: can i roll to pick up Pomni by the ankles and swing her around as an improvised weapon?

Pomni: ?!?!?!

(Caine said yes)

(Zooble ended up doing five whole damage with Pomni’s body)

Caine once rolled 200d8 Bludgeoning damage because Kinger fell off a mountain (he was Revivified by Ragatha after)

“COUNTERSPELL THIS, B[@&$%]” -Zooble, right before decking an NPC straight through a wall

When fights get too hairy, Jax will Disengage and leave the party to fend for themselves

There was once this HORRIFIC chase scene the party had to try to survive

Zooble: *polymorphed into a mountain goat by Pomni, sprinting as fast as they can*

Gangle: *Wild Shaped into a mouse, desperately hanging onto Zooble’s fur*

Ragatha: *flying away while holding Pomni*

Pomni: *clinging to Ragatha like how a baby sloth would cling to its mother, shooting Eldritch Blast at the monster every turn in a desperate attempt to slow it down, screaming*

Jax: *already 200ft in front of the others because he ran off way before them*

Kinger: *wondering if it’s a good time to tell the others he has Longstrider prepared*

Jax got maimed by a Mimic because he couldn’t help but not loot a chest he found

He then proceeded to get maimed by ANOTHER MIMIC in the VERY NEXT ROOM because he also tried to loot that, too

Zooble: does a 22 hit? 😏

Caine: no

the entire party: 😟

Pomni got bitten by a werewolf and failed the Constitution saving throw, so she ended up becoming a werewolf. During her first transformation, she lost control after failing the saving throw and immediately started mauling Jax.

Everyone just kinda stopped and watched in awe for a moment before they realized they should probably help him.

“He needed the humbling” -Zooble

Kinger crafts Pomni a gun and gives it to her

Caine: so you all see the werewolf pull out a Tommy gun

The party had to fight this giant frog, and they all thought it would be a walk in the park, but then it swallowed Pomni, and the simple encounter turned into a fight for Pomni’s fucking life because Pomni was actively suffocating inside of it, and Jax wanted to blow up the frog with a magic grenade he had, despite Pomni being in there (he was well aware that she would also take damage), and Ragatha was trying to see if she could heal Pomni from inside the frog, and Gangle ended up Wild Shaping into another frog and begging it to let Pomni go.

Pomni was traumatized.

Caine: who’s done a good job at roleplaying recently?

Kinger: well, Pomni did have a panic attack

[honourablejester]

One of the things that irks me slightly is that I have a lot of awesome story dreams, but they’re often very muddled when I wake up. It’s one of the reasons I like weekends, because I’ve got time to just lie there for a while and let the dream seep up slowly, rather than having to hurriedly make sense of them while getting ready for work.

(Granted some of the muddle is just the fact that they’re dreams and are not required to make actual story sense at all – that’s the job of the conscious/editor brain after the fact)

Last night I had a weird muddled mix of what was probably Critical Role influences (there were cow-people, and I’m pretty sure I can blame Exandrian firbolgs for that) and various historical dramas and/or documentaries I’ve watched recently. Possibly also The Goblin Emperor. And The Bat Man of Shanghai. There was a general ‘high fantasy late 19th/early 20th century’ vibe, with bits of maybe Renaissance Italy and Imperial Russia in there. It’s a technological, land-based fantasy empire, with movie production, cars and airships, where all the old cities and territories within the empire still retain their own ruling families/structures (cities still have kings and princes), but they all owe allegiance to a vast secular imperial government at the same time.

Essentially, it circled around two characters, a pair of old childhood friends. One of them was a movie star, the other (firbolg) was an investigator, now in different cities in the empire. They both love each other, but sort of think that they’re less important than the other, with the investigator thinking he’s just a government employee while his friend is a famous actor in the capital, while the actor thinks that he’s just a fool playing at fantasy while his friend helps real people.

The idea of the dream was them just writing vaguely inane and soppy letters to each other while they both slowly get embroiled in deep shit. The actor’s latest movie and co-star semi-accidentally get him involved with capital treason, while the investigator writes about how that same movie helped get him through the rough patches of his latest case, a series of horrific murders possibly involving the city’s prince as either suspect or potential victim, which his partner isn’t helping by possibly falling in love with said prince. They’re both trying desperately not to mention their respective increasingly desperate circumstances, just wanting the comfort of their old habit of correspondence with each other, but it’s starting to leak through on both ends.

And, obviously, it’s possible that the two cases, treason and serial murder, cities apart, are also linked …

It was a cool dream. There was a muddled fight scene on the investigator’s side, with him and his massive partner rescuing/kidnapping the rather willing prince from a social event, and the actor reading the latest letter ironically praising the movie that potentially just got him killed. It looked kind of like a cartoon, I think the Bat Man of Shanghai was a bit of an influence in hindsight, maybe a bit of Love, Death, Robots (Good Hunting, specifically) as well. It was pretty cool

And then, obviously, I had to wake up. Heh.

[commic-jester]

Hi I know literally nothing about critical role but- A) It sounds interesting- B) if you would like to ramble about it I would like to hear

!!!!! hell yeah!!!

ok so i’ve already explained the basic premise multiple times so im just gonna. rant abt some of the characters-

first there’s caleb widogast!!! he’s a german wizard man n he is. tramautized as all hell dskfhdjfk. he specializes in fire magic, but for the first few episodes he’s terrified of using it due to previously mentioned trauma n it is Sad-

then there’s jester lavorre!! rich-ish tiefling cleric!! her “god” is the traveller, who is the Actual definition of “can’t talk right now doing hot girl shit”. literally one time they tried to do a divine intervention (a spell that essentially asks for a god’s help) and it failed and the traveller showed up drinking some tropical drink n said “sorry, what?”

to keep this from gettin too long im just gonna end off on caduceus clay who is. a Huge fuckin comfort character holy shit-

he’s a firbolg, which are basically just nice, friendly cow people n they are Amazing n i Love Them. anyway caduceus is a cleric as well, but his goddess is the wildmother, whose domain specializes in making sure the natural order of life and death is kept in place. caduceus is the pinnacle of ‘pure of heart, dumb of ass’ but can drop some fucking raw ass lines if he needs to (see ‘i think the only real closure is when we’re all in the ground’ and ‘all religion is is a cult with a franchise’). he drinks dead people tea. and by that i mean he literally cultivated the plants that grow from graves and makes it into tea and i think that’s very pog of him!!

ok im gonna shut up now bc i could go on for actual hours dskfhdjfk-

[kimabutch]

“So,” Kima says, from across the dinner table, “tell me about these adventurers of yours.”

It’s Allura’s first evening back in Tal’dorei following her hasty trip to Nicodranas. Kima and the Council both successfully pleaded with her to come home instead of waiting nervously in Yussa’s tower, and Kima even prepared her trademark roast chicken as a welcome-home dinner. From their dining room window in their tower, Allura can see the bird’s eye view of Emon, its stone streets blooming to life with the coming spring. It’s a beautiful and comforting sight — despite the Menagerie Coast’s fine sea views, Emon will always be home. 

Allura sighs, turning to her wife. “I don’t even know where to begin. They’re rather… perplexing.” 

“Well, you’re always saying to start with what you know. Which ones do you know the most about?” Kima says. 

“Right. Well. There’s the wizard, Caleb.” 

“Of course you’d start with the wizard,” Kima says with a playful grin. “Have you met him before?”

Allura returns the smile. “Wizards don’t all know each other, and no, I’ve never met him before. But I’m fairly certain he’s from the Zemnian Fields.”

“Zemni… that’s where we were, right? Rexxentrum? With all those guys that you hated?”

Allura nods in approval. Kima’s never been one for politics, but she tries for her sake, and Allura appreciates the effort. 

“Hate is a strong word, perhaps. I found many of the methods at the Soltryce Academy and the politics among the Cerberus Assembly a little unsettling.”

“Yeah, they were creepy fuckers,” Kima says. “So is this wizard from the Academy?”

“Well, that’s what’s interesting — I’m fairly certain that he’s not aligned with them anymore. Certainly Yussa would not involve himself with an active member of the Assembly, or anyone involved with the Academy. He has a stronger distaste for Rexxentrum than me. Not to mention that he was wearing a cloak that I believe is of Xhorhassian design.”

“Could he have been raised in Zemnia and defected to Xhorhas?”

“Maybe? I can’t imagine how he survived, however. The Empire is not easy on traitors, and Xhorhas is not known for its love of humans.”

“Huh. A tough wizard. Reminds me of someone I know,” Kima says, and Allura can feel her cheeks redden slightly. “Okay, so who else?”

“There’s another human, Beau, but not from Zemnia, as far as I can tell. I can’t quite pinpoint her accent, but by her clothing, she seems to be a monk. She was so clever with Yussa’s notes... I would hazard a guess that she trained with the Cobalt Soul.” 

“Those weird, Ioun-loving librarians? The ones in Vasselheim are always giving us a hard time at the Sanctuary.” 

“Actually, she reminds me a little of you when we were younger,” Allura says.

“How so?”

“Headstrong and… very blunt.” Kima begins sputtering protests, while Allura continues: “But passionate and protective of her friends. Thoughtful and resourceful, too.”

Kima’s protests turn into a blush. “You talk to all your girls that way?” she teases. 

Allura laughs and extends her hand across the table, intertwining her fingers with Kima’s. “Only to my dearest wife.” She rests for a moment, looking into Kima’s impossibly green eyes, crinkled at the edges with a fond smile. “It is strange, however,” she resumes, “that a member of the Cobalt Soul might be adventuring with a wizard who defected from the Assembly. The organizations are separate and Ioun knows that they don’t always get along, but they’re supposedly allies. Perhaps they fled the Empire together. That might explain how Caleb survived.”

“Huh. Well, I like her a bit better now.”

“I thought you would.”

“So that’s two. What about the one that you gave the mirror to?” Kima says. 

“Ah, yes. Jester. A tiefling — from the Menagerie Coast, I believe, given her accent. Certainly they are more prevalent by the Coast.”

“So is she the leader?”

“Perhaps in the same way that Scanlan still calls himself the leader of Vox Machina,” Allura says, and this gets a good laugh out of Kima. “But perhaps I’m being unfair. She is a little bit of a… jokester, as her name would suggest, but she’s clearly very powerful. She’s a mage of some sort, though I doubt that she’s a wizard...”

“So all wizards do know each other!” Kima says triumphantly.

“... Although if she makes use of divine magic, then she was not wearing any holy symbols that I recognized,” Allura continues, with a smile at her wife. “Caduceus, the firbolg, on the other hand — I’m fairly certain he wears Melora’s swirl in his clothing and earrings.”

“Fear… bulg?” Kima says, rolling the word around in her mouth. 

“A reclusive race — I don’t believe I’ve ever met one in Tal’dorei. They’re giant-kin, I believe, but somewhat bovine in appearance. They supposedly have an affinity with nature, which would explain his ties to the Wildmother, but not his interest in continental politics. But we are not bound by the general tendencies of our ancestors, I suppose.” 

“I hope not. Still haven’t met too many halflings that can kick ass,” Kima says. “So what’s the cow-man like?”

Allura stifles laughter at Kima’s unorthodox word choice. “Interesting, once again. He seemed a little confused.” 

“At what?”

“Everything, I suppose. He asked me whether I was a good archmage or a bad archmage.”

Kima rocks back in laughter. “Well, which one is it?”

“I told him that was a difficult philosophical question. Still, he gave me a… discerning look. Not magical, but thoughtful. He’s perhaps more insightful than he might initially appear,” Allura says.  

“Huh. Well, so long as he didn’t enchant you with his nature magic, that’s fine by me.”

“Indeed. His companion didn’t give me much to work with, either.” 

“Companion?” asks Kima.

“Fjord, the half-orc — his armour also seemed to have Melora’s symbol on it. Perhaps I’m assuming too much, however. I don’t know much more about him. He was polite, but quiet. An accent like mine, but that’s not exactly uncommon, even in Wildemount. You might have liked his sword. It was very ornate.”

“Better than my Holy Avenger?” Kima says, gesturing to the platinum greatsword that hangs on the wall. Allura sometimes wishes that she had won the debate about whether weapons should be allowed in the dining area, but she admits that the sword is beautiful. “I’d love to spar with him, though,” she continues. “Sounds like he’s the only one of these adventurers who can hold a sword.” 

“I’m sure you’d take him handily,” Allura says with a smile. “Although, I think there’s one more who can fight. The, ah, goblin, Nott.” 

“A goblin? Now that’s interesting. Haven’t really met one of them since Kraghammer.” Kima wrinkles her brow. “Better not tell Scanlan. He’d have a fit.” 

“I wasn’t planning to, no. I confess, I was surprised by her presence. Excepting Wensforth, I haven’t met many goblins who have ventured out of their clan. I would think that she’s from Xhorhas, where goblins are more openly accepted, except that her accent does not appear to be Xhorhassian in nature. Nor do goblins typically associate with humans — though, I suppose they don’t usually go adventuring into extraplanar device, either, so she’s unusual on several counts. Sneaky, too. She was hiding behind one of Yussa’s books for several minutes before she introduced herself.” 

“Huh. And you said she can hold her own in a fight?” 

“I believe so,” Allura says. “She carried a well-made crossbow with some confidence, and I saw a shortsword by her side. I could have also sworn that she had a pistol on her, but there wasn’t sufficient time to ask.”

“Ha! Better add Percy to the list of people you can’t tell about this.”

“I suppose so. I believe he’s abandoned the notion that he’ll stop the proliferation of his devices, but it does make him so upset.” Allura sighs. “Anyways, that’s the six of them. They call themselves the Mighty Nine.”

“So on top of all that, they can’t count?”

“Perhaps. Or they have other companions that are not with them at this moment. I should really call in some favours with my contacts in the Empire and ask them whether they’ve heard of this party, but I’ve been so busy trying to research this Angel in Irons.” Allura runs her hands through her hair in frustration. “A threat this level, and there’s barely a word on it —” 

Kima gets up from her seat, steps over to Allura, and gently takes her hand. “Ally, it’s okay. I know everyone keeps putting all of Exandria on your shoulders, but if Yussa’s made friends with a bunch of chucklefucks, that’s on him. It’s not your fault, I promise.” Holding her face, Kima kisses Allura deeply. She feels Allura relax in her hands and lay her arms around Kima’s waist. 

As they pull away, still holding each other, Allura smiles and whispers, “I missed you.” 

“Missed you too, babe,” Kima says, kissing her forehead. 

[monstersandmaw]

male half-firbolg, half-drow x reader (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.

The first 500 words of this are dedicated to @akaneakiwolf​ who won the second prize slot in my 10k follower giveaway. They asked me just to write something that inspired me, which was very generous of them, and, well, this story ran away with me a bit.

It definitely feels like a part one. Because this was a Tumblr-based giveaway, this wasn’t previewed on my Patreon, but any future parts will definitely go up on Patreon first on early-release.

Content: fluff. Just... fluff. And plonts. Wordcount: 1871

___

With the distinctive white hair and pewter skin of a drow, but standing at nine feet tall and broader at the shoulder than any elf ever had been, the university’s new groundskeeper drew a fair bit of attention to himself in his first week. It wasn’t until you were leaving campus one evening that you got a closer look at him though, and realised he wasn’t a drow, or at least, with his slightly bovine nose and ears, he couldn’t be a full drow. He had to have a fairly sizable dose of firbolg blood in him too, which was an unusual combination to say the least. He wore it well though.  

You passed by the stretch of grass where he was raking up winter leaves with the steady, hypnotic rhythm of someone completely lost in their task, and you really did try not to stare. He was heart-stoppingly gorgeous though. He wore a sleeveless, white shirt despite the winter chill, which showed off tight bands of muscle in his thick, lean arms, the gunmetal grey of his skin looking more like living shadow in the fading light. His pure-white hair was thick and long, falling right the way to the small of his back, restrained back in an unadorned braid. Scruffy, pale jeans with rips in the knees were tucked into old, scuffed leather boots, and he wore a wide leather cuff around each wrist.  

He twitched his gaze sideways at you as you inevitably slowed, and as his eyes made contact with yours, you saw piercing silver irises flash in the dusk. “Goodnight,” you chirped as you scurried towards the bus with your bag slung over your shoulder and bashing you painfully in the hip with each step; the thing was groaning at the seams with books and it was threatening to give out on you at any minute.  

The groundskeeper just nodded once and turned silently back to his work.  

Next morning as you scuttled and flailed from the bus towards the faculty building where, in a mere five minutes’ time, you were supposed to be giving a lecture, your bag finally decided to give way. 

The bottom corner ripped open, and the canvas tore with a loud groan, dumping your books onto the damp tarmac of the path, along with half a dozen pens and pencils, a few snacks, the odd wrapper which immediately decided to flutter away on the light breeze, your phone, wallet, house keys, and a small array of small change that had somehow fallen out of your wallet too.  

“Fuck,” you snarled, dumping the remnants of the bag on the path and scampering after the wrappers before they got too far.  

When you returned, you found the groundskeeper approaching at a steady stride, a large bag of leaves abandoned nearby, his head cocked slightly to one side. Instead of the practically indecent white tank top that he’d worn yesterday, he had on a thick flannel shirt over the top of a close-fitting black tank that day, with a small array of pens and screwdrivers and what might have been a penknife tucked in the top pocket. His facial features were monumental, rugged and harsh, but he was far from unattractive. On the contrary, with the rough, white stubble you could see along his jaw and around his mouth, he looked positively delectable. His silver eyes reflected like mirrors and his already large, almost cow-like eyes were pinched a little with concern.  

“You alright?” he asked.  

“I’m late,” you moaned as you approached your forlorn little scattering of belongings. “My bag gave up the ghost and I’ve got a class full of undergrads to teach.”

He blinked at you again then, as if reassessing you.  

“What?” you asked, stooping to start picking stuff up.  

“Nothing. I just thought…”

“Thought what?”

You shot him a quick look and caught the way he scratched the back of his head and then shrugged, his cheeks darkening slightly. “I thought you were a student when you passed me yesterday. I'm sorry.”

You snorted but didn’t look up again. You might get distracted if you did. Instead, you watched the way he adjusted his not inconsiderate weight by the slight shuffle of his dirty old boots out of the corner of your eye. A moment later, he stooped, his knees cracking loudly as he bent down, and he handed you a small pile of books. In fact though, what looked like a small pile of books in his scarred, rough hand was actually four thick tomes, and you nearly wheezed as you took them from him.  

“I’m Suléth,” he added shyly. He had a strand of his white mane that had escaped the plait and was dangling alluringly in front of his silver eyes in a way that was entirely too fascinating.  

You softened, offered him your name, thanked him, and then bolted.  

You didn’t see Suléth again until the next day, and this time he was laying out new bark chipping around a flowerbed near the campus canteen. With a huge bag balanced on his right shoulder, and another half-full and dangling from his left hand, he made his way to the end of the path. There he set the heavy bag down for later and began to shake the remnants of the first loose around the little, tough-looking evergreens planted in a neat line along the bed. That day his hair was plaited into three braids on each side, which joined at the nape of his neck into a single, thick rope. There was a single black bead halfway down this time, and you wondered idly as you approached if that held any significance. You knew nothing about either firbolg or drow culture, both tending to be somewhat secretive, or at least secluded in the case of firbolgs. The fact that he was living here in Old Trollbridge, and not in some commune in the forests near Starfall Springs, or deep underground in the Starfall Mountains may well have meant he’d left his heritage behind him. Or it may have had nothing to do with that whatsoever.  

His bovine ear twitched and his nose lifted slightly as you made your way towards him, and he turned with a very slight smile on his lips.  

“Morning Suléth,” you greeted him as you slowed. Nodding at the flowerbed, you added, “That looks good. I wish I had a garden, but I think I’d just kill it anyway. I’m not good with plants.”

“Everyone’s good with at least one plant,” he replied in a softly amused rumble, but he didn’t offer any further comment.  

“I’ve got to run - again - but I’m glad I saw you,” you smiled as you excused yourself.  

Suléth bowed his head politely and you left him to get on with his work.  

Exhausted, hungry, and probably dehydrated too - staff room coffee was not known for its nutritious, hydrating properties after all - you slouched out of the department that evening and made your way along the paths of the grounds until you paused by the bed of winter plants where Suléth had been working that morning. The wood chippings had been neatly banked back off the path, and the plants looked frankly cosy beneath the blanket that the chipping created. The groundskeeper’s hut sat across the campus, near the overflow car park that was rarely used, and in the opposite direction from home, but you found yourself leaving the campus by that exit. Something about the way he’d looked at you earlier drew you to him, shy as you still felt.

The hut door was open, but you didn't see him and, not wanting to come across as a complete creep, you headed out of the gate and onto the street beyond. You’d gone no further than a few paces down the road, however, when you head him call your name. Turning, you found Suléth loping easily along to catch up with you, and he had something in his big hand. With a frown, you saw it for what it was, and your stomach swooped unexpectedly. It was a small pot-plant.  

“I hope you don’t think it’s too forward of me,” he began as he drew level with you.  

You craned your neck up to look at him and smiled inarticulately, unable to muster anything else at the sight of him looking slightly flushed and a little flustered.  

“It’s called a sansevieria,” he said awkwardly. “It’s basically indestructible…”

“When did you get that?” you asked as he stretched his hand out for you to take it. “I only told you about my special way with plants this morning!” The sansevieria had tall, upright, blade-like leaves, the centre of which was a dark, mottled green, with a sharp line of pale, yellow-green along the edges.  

Suléth stepped back so that you didn’t get a crick in your neck, and smiled lopsidedly. You liked the way it made his strange, sensitive looking nose crinkle on one side, and his silver eyes glinted warmly as he replied, “I got it on my lunch break. There’s a shop not too far from here that sells plants. Friend of mine owns it. I… I hope it’s not… uh…”

“Thank you,” you said, and in a rush of boldness, you reached out and touched his muscular forearm. He’d cuffed the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbow, revealing dark grey skin dusted attractively with white hair. “I love it. How do I look after it?”

“Water it every now and again,” he shrugged, his solid muscles relaxing intoxicatingly beneath your fingertips.  

“Everyone who’s planty always says that, but how often is ‘every now and again’?” you practically whined. “That could be twice a year or every three days!”

Suléth’s amused laugh was deep and soft as distant thunder, and his eyes sparkled. “Every couple of weeks, give it a cup of water, but only if the soil’s completely dry. How’s that?”

“That I can work with. Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome.” Suléth sighed softly and said, “So… I’ll… uh… see you around?”

“I hope so,” you smiled and turned to go, plant in your hands, repaired bag slung over one shoulder. “Thank you.”

The half-firbolg watched you go for a little while and then turned to head back into the car park behind him.  

It wasn’t until you got home and arranged the so-called ‘indestructible’ plant - ‘I’ll do my best, but we’ll see about that, won’t we?’ you told it softly - on the kitchen windowsill that you noticed a post-it note attached to the little information tab in the pot.  

In completely terrible, chicken-scratch handwriting was written a phone number and a short note which read ‘I’m not very good with words but I’d love to go for coffee sometime with you and get to know you better, if that’s something you’d like. If not, then please just accept this plant as a gift, and hopefully the start of a little collection of your own. Suléth x’

You read it through three times, heart hammering with excitement before drawing out your phone and composing a text to him.

—

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[quasieli]

top 6 dnd races

Okay so this in no particular order.

1) I am a basic queer bitch who loves me some tieflings. My first character ever was a tiefling (I miss u, Kesh), one of my current current characters is a tiefling and I’ve made several others that I will probably never get to use (I got a dope four elements monk/nature cleric named Berry that I would love to play). They are just very fun and customizable and I just think they’re neat. 

2) As much as I have shit talked them, I do actually love Elves, particularly Drow. Note, I shit talk High Elves.... cause they’re easy targets lmao. Drow have gotten such a shitty rap in D&D history/lore, but they’re awesome. I may be slightly biased, given how drow heavy one of my current campaigns has been but I think that’s just a testament to how awesome they are. I currently play a half drow (I say to the DM of the game where I play that character lmao) and I adore her and would die for her. I was in a Norse mythology inspired game with a character that is that world’s version of a High Elf, but haven’t played her in months :(. I do also have backup characters for a few different games that are different types of Elves (got an Eladrin, a wood elf, another drow, and also a cool half-elf NPC in a game I run). They’re just really fun and can’t go wrong with a classic.

3) I am really beginning to fall in love with Aasimar, they are Very Cool. I was reading up on them quite a bit not too long ago to make a character for a module that unfortunately is now put on hold. I only got to play my boy for one session, but that hasn’t stopped me from thinking about them. He was originally a scourge Aasimar but then I realized the aesthetic of fallen Aasimars is Sexy lol. I kept the lore of the hidden face from scourge but also gave him cool necrotic wings. I don’t think people realize, like tieflings, Aasimars are super customizable, as they can have numerous different celestial/angelic origins. I need to make another Aasimar, I love them.   

Hmm here’s where it gets tougher cause I really haven’t played all that many D&D characters, so now it’s more gonna be about which I think seem cool. 

4) Caduceus Clay has made me a slut for firbolgs and I also love cows (and the fanon that firbolgs are cow-like), that is all. 

5) I have only played a Dragonborn once, and it was in a battle royale one shot (that I died first in, RIP Alastair), but they’re really cool. Dragons are just such a dope part of D&D and to have a player race that is descendants from them? Sexy as hell. Breath weapon? Beautiful. Big Strong Lizard Friend? Resplendent. In conclusion, I love them. 

6) I think I just really like races that allow for a lot of customizations, and in that same vein, Genasi are dope. Totally not biased cause my longest running character is dating an amazing fire genasi nooooo. But seriously, genasi are really freaking cool. Like drow, they get a really bad rap, but I hate the generalizations that D&D lore makes about entire races (esp if they give an alignment, whether good or bad, to an entire race). Anyway, those who know me know I am a slut for druids and that natural part of genasis connecting to the earth/nature calls to me. Also, fun fact, before I created Saube (my lovely tief druid/cleric), for that same campaign, I was considering making a fire genasi druid named Bali, who was supposed to be the leader of her people but left because she felt unprepared. I would still make her but uhhh there were some coincidental similarities between her and Saube’s aforementioned fire genasi GF lol (I made Bali wayyyyy before we knew Mahety, so.... weird.)

[salamanderskin]

Detail Study (Critical Role, Caduceus)

Caduceus isn’t feeling well. Jester takes advantage to explore an interest of hers and help out a friend.  (aka Salamander projecting onto characters who are sweet, somewhat innocent and not bothered by what other people think is weird.)

Detail Study 

Jester loves to draw and she loves to draw her friends most of all. Since moving into their shared house it has been easier than ever, so her sketchbook is filled with sketches of each of them. Some comic, some serious, all done with love and attention to detail.

Increasingly, she has been turning her attention to the newest member of the party. All her friends are beautiful in her eyes, but they are all approximately humanoid in their features, more (the actual humans) or less (Nott). Caduceus Clay is another matter entirely. She has never known a firbolg well enough to sit and stare and sketch. She longs to sit and let her pencil understand his long, silken ears, the broad, animal planes of his face and his neat little nose. It is pinkish and rough with slit nostrils and a fine line from philtrum to lip- almost like Frumpkin the cat's but not quite. She is yet to sketch it to her satisfaction but when they are not out on adventures Caduceus seems to value his time alone, and she hasn't plucked up the courage to ask him to sit for her.

Opportunity knocks unexpectedly on a rainy day.

Jester sits in the kitchen, dipping a pastry in her milk and watching the others of the Mighty Nein emerge from their rooms to join her at the table. There were battles yesterday and drinking last night, so today there are stiff limbs and hangovers. No hangover for herself, which always makes her a little smug, and Caduceus doesn't drink either so why hasn't he come for breakfast yet?

When he does make it downstairs, he looks as worse for wear as any of them. He used every drop of his magic yesterday and judging from the slump of his shoulders he hasn't recovered yet. His lanky frame is draped with a thick shawl while his cow-like ears droop down sadly. Even his beautiful pink hair seems less vibrant than usual. He announces himself with a fit of husky, ticklish coughing that makes everyone turn their heads.

“'Duceus sounds like shit.” Beau observes to the group at large.

When Caduceus folds himself into a chair but neither speaks nor even reaches for a cup of tea, Fjord leans over to put a hand on his arm. “Hey, are you, uh, doing okay?”

Caduceus clears his throat and sighs. “Oh hey. No, I'm afraid not feeling too well.”

“Do you need some healing? Or I have probably have a  potion.” Jester suggests.

“That'd be-- - chsch’ue!

He hesitates and turns his head suddenly to sneeze over his shoulder. He recovers with a soft little sound that makes Jester's heart hurt and finishes, “that's really kind but it's just a sniffle. I don't find magic works too well for those.”

“Actually that's true.” She agrees solemnly. “If it gets really really bad and you get a high fever or you have a lot of pain then I can try, but otherwise it's a waste of a spell. Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. I think I'll just rest today and wait for it to pass.”

With that in mind. when the rest of them decide to head out into town, there is a (rare) unanimous decision to leave Caduceus at home in the warm.

Fjord pats him kindly on the shoulder on the way out of the door and then reaches a hand to smooth Caduceus' hair from his brow, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Well I don't think you have a temperature. I'd suggest that you drink lots of tea but I know you will.” 

Jester is packing her things into her magical backpack, but looks up for this little exchange. This opportunity is too good to miss.

“I'm going to stay home and take care of Caduceus!” She announces.

“Does Caduceus get a say in the matter?” Caleb asks wryly.

“Nope.”

“That's nice.” Caduceus agrees. “I'm going to make some tea to help me shake this, but you're welcome to have some, Jester.”

“See, it's all settled. Have fun you guys.” She ushers them out of the door and into the rainy street with a smile.

When they have the house to themselves, Caduceus disappears up to his rooftop garden and returns with a handful of herbs to make himself one of his healing teas. Jester herself settles into her favourite spot on the sofa and tucks her legs under herself to watch him. He can't seem to keep his hands from his nose as he potters around the kitchen- sniffling and rubbing, blowing his nose or pinching it roughly. As the water boils, his breath gets quick and chaotic for another sneeze.

“hk—chsch’ue!”

“Bless you.”

“-chsch’ue!”

There is something very endearing about the big, earnest firbolg and his surprisingly soft sneezes. There is very little sound but they make his shoulders shrug and his head bob fiercely, like a cat shaking off water.

And here comes another- his brows arch in hesitation and he manages to mutter a “S'cuse me-” before tipping forward into the handkerchief again.

“Aww, bless you,” she croons fondly. “You know, because you're so tall I expected you to have a really loud sneeze, like Fjord. Or Yasha. But it's just little and soft.”

“Doesn't feel little.” He groans.

“Well it's very cute.”

“Good?” He shrugs, perplexed but pleased, and returns to worrying under his nose with another handkerchief.

 Now seems as good a time as any to ask the question, so- 

“Caduceus, can I draw you?”

“Don't you draw me all the time, and everyone else?”

“No, I mean, since you're not doing anything and I really, really want to draw you, could you sit somewhere in the light and sit really still for me to draw you? Please?”

He considers this and nods. “Of course I can. So long as I can take my tea with me. I'm very good at sitting still.” Well, that was easy.

Happiness bubbles in Jester's stomach as she directs the tall firbolg into the windowseat where he can rest his cup on the sill. The grey light from outside is still enough to illuminate his hair from behind, bringing out the rich rose tone of it. It also brings out the shadows under his eyes and the raw hue of his poor nose, which he rubs at ruefully as she guides him into place. She spots him shivering and adds a throw blanket over his knees.

 “That's perfect. Just stay like that, okay?” She gives him a kiss to the crown of his head and sits in front of him with her sketchbook open.

Caduceus sits still, almost slipping into meditation to the gentle sound of pencil on paper. She has fixed him to gaze towards the window, but he can make her out as a blue blur at the corner of his vision. She seems so happy. That's nice. He would be perfectly content if it wasn’t for the irritation of his throat and nose. He sneaks a hand up to rub it and manages a few passes before his artist objects- 

“Hey, you have to hold still so I can draw your properly.” “I'm sorry, Jester. Bit of an itch in my nose.”

“Well don't scratch it.” She says.

Caduceus duly tries. His philosophy is to help people however he can and if that was what Jester wants he will comply. It is easy at first but grows rapidly more difficult as his nose starts to drip. He can feel the moisture tracking into the soft, velvet fur under his nostrils. It is desperately ticklish.

“Can I move now?” He pleads, his voice breathy and helpless.

“Wait for-” his companion begins, but before she could finish, Caduceus tips forward with a whippish sneeze.

“heh--- MPShh!”

He manages to direct it over his shoulder and recovers with a quick, wet sniffle.

“Bless you, bless you.” Jester tuts and reaches to rearrange him back into his former position. She begins sketching again, tilting her head at different angles and humming with satisfaction as she works.

He dutifully holds the pose for a long as he can before his cold catches up with him again in another, “MPSH-shue!” The sound is soft but emphatic.

“Bless you.”

“S'cuse m-eh-” His bass voice topples into a wordless, needy sound and he cups his hands hastily over his mouth and nose for another. 

“Bless you!”

His sniffling is becoming increasingly damp, threatening to spill over his upper lip, and he presses the back of a hand there as he rummages in his pockets for a handkerchief. He gives a series of short blows but his sinuses immediately flood again, whilst the pressure makes his forehead spike with pain.

“That didn't feel good.” He says aloud, half to himself.

His teifling companion has been watching him, spellbound, but at this she makes a concerned noise and puts down her sketchpad. Jester crosses the room in a few light steps and alights on the side of his armchair to give him a hug.

“Poor 'Duceus. I thought you were okay earlier but now you sound really crappy.”

He sniffles in response, which turned into a little cough that makes him push his fingers under his eyes against the ache. When he opens them, her expression is so worried and sad that he laughs in spite of it all.

“It's really nothing. It's what you get when you live in a magically heated cemetery your whole life and then you mingle with lots of new people, I suppose. It's not so bad apart from my head, when I move too fast.”

She nodded understanding and snuggled in tighter, wrapping her arms around his torso as high up as she can reach.

“Do you want me to rub your head? That's what my momma would do for me when I had a headache.”

 “I-” images of his own family gathered around flash in front of him and leave him feeling sad and strange. “Yes please. That would be nice.”

It takes a few moments for them to find a way to settle. The sofa is only just long enough for his to lay out on, so it takes some comedic shunting to him comfortable with Jester sitting upright and his head in her lap on a pillow, angled to help him breathe. Once there he lies quietly, sniffling and looking up at her with his eyes glowing like pink sapphires.

She has not known any of his species apart from Nila and Pumat(s) Sol, and she can't imagine either of them letting her indulge her curiosity this way. She starts tamely enough- smoothing her fingers through his hair and rubbing circles into the shaved sides his head. When he does not object, her fingers migrate to his large ears. They are rounded like a cow's but more delicate by far. She has never pet a deer but this is how she imagines it might be. When she digs into the hollows in front, where she assumes his sinuses must meet his ear canal, he groans with pleasure, sniffles a little and seems to breathe more easily.

This also gives her an excellent view of his fascinating nose. His nostrils are thin and tear shaped, and she can see them flaring ticklishly when he sniffles. They are always a delicate rose pink, but right now they look irritated and chapped. Poor thing. First she runs her fingers down the sides of his nose, feeling the short fur on the bridge of it get finer across his cheeks.

Emboldened by his lack of protest, she smooths up the bridge itself as though petting a large cat. Finally, fascinated, her fingers drift to his nostrils and trace the hairline crack that divides his upper lip.

That, at last, is too much. His whole nose twitches in irritation and a large hand reaches up to grip her wrist.

“Maybe not there, Miss Jester.”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Was that too personal?”

“It’s not that.” He sits up out of her lap and blinks at the ceiling with round, wet eyes. She can see tears gathered on his long lashes. “I thought I was gonna sneeze. Maybe...hhhh...”

He turns away from her abruptly, draws a mammoth breath in and... nothing.

“Ugh, it's gone. That's really frustrating.” 

“I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault I think.” He mumbles, distracted.

The soothing spell of the moment before is truly broken as Caduceus raises himself to a sitting position and sniffles woefully. His broad hands are cupped against his face but nothing happens.

Jester feel something as she watches him squint and shiver ticklishly. It is novel to see him so helpless against something so small, to watch him when he too distracted by his own body to watch her, that gives her a feeling of guilty power.

“Caduceus?” She asks slyly. “Do you honestly, really really want to sneeze?” 

“Yes. Honestly.”

“And that wasn't too personal, what I was doing before?”

“No.”

An idea is forming. “Okay, you sit there for oooooone second.”

She darts back to her journal and the set of paint beside them, and returns moments later with a slim, fine-tipped paintbrush. She tests the edge against her fingertip and feels the firm, soft edge. That should do nicely.

“What- sniff- what are you-?” Caduceus manages. He hushes when she sits cross legged in his lap and takes his jaw in both her hands, tilting her head to him. She has a truly excellent view of his nose now. His lovely hair is swept back and can admire the animal line of the bridge of his contrasted with his strong human jaw.

“Shhhh. Just trust me, Okay. I’m going to make you feel so much better,”she promises, and touches underneath his nose with the end of the brush. 

The firbolg flinches away reflexively and then leans back in when he realises what she is doing and that it isn’t painful, just a little weird and impossibly tickly.

“Is that working?” Jester inquires, half to hear him to try to speak.

“No— wait, yes—“ his breathing becomes rapid and shallow. But he still hovers, as sniffling and itchy and miserable, just with tears tracking down through his fur and a blush rising to match his hair. 

In a moment of boldness, Jester slips the brush just inside one of his nostrils and traces a tiny circle. This time the reaction is immediate. Caduceus pushes her off his lap in his haste to turn away and tuck a handkerchief over his face

“-uh-CHSch-ue! CHSch-ue!”

There. Still not loud but it’s emphatic enough that when he raises his head he doesn’t look so irritated anymore, just tired and kind of hazy. The wet sheen in his eyes makes Jester’s always-soft heart melt at once.  Now that the moment has passed she feels a little guilty for putting him through it. 

“Does that feel better at least?”

He considers and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it does actually. It was just- sniff- it was a lot.” 

She comes to sit by his side and settles her arms around him in an embrace. He is tall enough that his relaxed response settles his head on top of hers. She can feel his breath ruffle her hair as he sighs heavily.

“Do you think that was maybe a bit weird?” She wonders aloud.

“I’m not the best judge.” “That’s true. Just a little bit of weirdness between friends.”

He nods, his mind clearly somewhere else, then adds, “I don’t think I want to try it again just yet. I feel like I need a lie down- you’ve worn me out!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” She gets up and offers her hands as if her tiny form could actually help haul seven feet of firbolg up standing. He takes them anyway and then gathers the blanket around himself like a shawl. “Yes. You should go rest.” “Can you finish your sketch?”

“Yes, I can add in the rest of the details later probably, and if I don’t like them I’ll make them up. It might make you look better than in real life.”

“That’s not hard at the moment.” He agrees, coughing softly against his fist. “See you later.”

“See you later.” She echoes, and watches him disappear up the stairs to his room.

The living room feels very empty without so much pink firbolg but Jester doesn’t mind. She lies on her belly on the rug to add the rest of the details to her interrupted sketch. With care she adds the delicate line down the centre of his nose and the exact slit shape of his nostrils, then begins shading in the delicate fur there. She even hums to herself as she works, perfectly content.

She knows herself too well to say that her curiosity is ever fully satisfied, but this morning certainly came close. And when Caduceus will wake up, she will see if she can make good on her offer to take care of him. That’s what the Mighty Nein do, after all.

END. 

[cthulhu-lulu]

The Miscreants

Nymphadora (Adora/Dora) Bell

Drow/Cleric (Grave Domain) AC: 18

STR: 18(+4) DEX: 16(+3) CON: 12(+1) INT: 14(+2) WIS: 16(+3) CHA: 16(+3)

Plague Doctor with Morticia Addams Aesthetic when she’s not working

Silver tongue comes in handy when Team Dumbass’ shenanigans inevitably go south

Married to Desiree, the two have been through a lot, but have finally managed to be reunited after many arduous years

Has published a series of smutty novels that have sold quite well

Raven familiar named Nigel Hoots (“I wanted an Owl”) who delivers cryptic messages to Dora in a language she can’t understand

“Digging one’s way out of a mountain of corpses after watching one’s wife be experimented on by deranged wizards does tend to limit one’s tolerance for bullshit. Now move aside.” 

“Don’t fret, my lovelies, I’m a doctor”

Spiritual Weapon takes the form of a Teapot

Distinguished Lesbian

Desiree Bell

Drow/Cleric (Grave Domain) AC: 16

STR: 19(+4) DEX: 12(+1) CON: 19(+4) INT: 9(-1) WIS: 14(+2) CHA: 13(+1)

Former researcher/botanist

Insists that she used up all the luck she had when she met Adora, and has been happily married for 89 years.

Team Dumbass founder

Likes shopping for frilly dresses, botany, going with her wife to fancy brothels, and getting into fights in taverns

Raven Familiar named Percival Periwinkle the Duke of Purple Pearls

The party has watched Desiree pull some of the weirdest objects out of her Bag of Holding (“Is that a clockwork Raven? Why do you have that?”, ”So Percy has a friend!”)

Spiritual Weapon takes the form of a Teacup

Disaster Bisexual

 Lavish

Tiefling/Bard (School of Glamour) AC: 13

STR: 7(-2) DEX: 15(+2) CON: 13(+1) INT: 17(+3) WIS: 13(+1) CHA: 20(+5)

Nymphadora’s publisher/editor who now travels with the wives on their adventures

Acts as the groups accountant, and keeps plenty of gold in the budget for paying off guards and city officials to forgive any mischief Team Dumbass finds themselves in

Goes with Adora on spa dates

Works tirelessly to keep the party from letting their egos get too big

“No, no, Dora, let them go, I want to see where this leads”

(to Team Dumbass) “Now, what did we learn?”

Can burn you down to your foundation with a cutting remark

Distinguished Gay

Aurykke

Fire Genasi/Cleric (Forge Domain) AC: 19

STR: 12(+1)/19(+4) DEX: 16(+3) CON: 15(+2) INT: 9(-1) WIS: 14(+2) CHA: 10(+0)

Former blacksmith turned adventurer after being hired by Adora to rescue a merchant’s son from bandits

May have caught feelings for Adora after watching her literally pound a bandit leader’s head through a stone table with her bare hands.

Starts fights that she knows she can’t win herself, but knows that Team Dumbass always protects their own!

Acts tough, secretly craves all the cuddles (which the party is more than happy to provide)

Spiritual Weapon takes the form of a pink anvil

Functional Bisexual 

Coriander Bride-Stealer

Half-Elf/Paladin (Oath of Redemption) AC: 21

STR: 11(+0)/29(+9) DEX: 16(+3) CON: 13(+1) INT: 7(-2) WIS: 11(+0) CHA: 17(+3)

There is a popular song about her called ‘The Paladin Thief’ which tells the tale of an evil paladin stealing away an elven princess from a human prince (It was actually an arranged marriage, and the princess begged Cora to help her escape, which she did)

She really hates that song

Forgets that being sneaky means she can’t keep using Thundering Smite to dispatch enemies, proceeds to do so anyway

Ride or die for her friends, tries really hard to steer Team Dumbass towards good decisions, fails spectacularly

Is doing her best

Disaster Lesbian

Ol’ Banjo

Human/Barbarian (Path of the Totem Warrior) + Wizard AC: 18

STR: 19(+4) DEX: 17(+3) CON: 20(+5) INT: 14(+2) WIS: 10(+0) CHA: 12(+1)

Former farmer, Wife passed away a few years ago after 60 blissful years of marriage, decided to live out the last of his days adventuring and living life to the fullest, believing that he will be reunited with her when his time on the mortal world comes to an end

Has 13 daughters, 3 adopted sons, and 26 grandchildren. Remembers all of their names

His eldest daughters spent years teaching him how to read and write, now writes each of them letters every week to practice. His eldest (Willow/Wizard) gave him a spellbook, which he works tirelessly to fill with fun spells to show his grandkids

Team ‘Loving your Wife’, Honorary member of Team Dumbass

His grandchildren decorated his straw hat and glaive with pretty ribbons and flowers, which he is immensely proud of

Plants fruit trees in every town he visits and along every road he travels, in memory of his beloved wife (‘Always give to those whom have less than you do, so they may prosper’)

Loves Bathhouses and spa dates with Adora and Lavish

Distinguished Bisexual

Boos the Newt

Lightfoot Halfling/Monk (Way of the Drunken Master) AC: 18

STR: 11(+0) DEX: 18(+4) CON: 15(+2) INT: 9(-1) WIS: 17(+3) CHA: 16(+3)

Punches Good

Kicks Good

What more do you need?

“Ask your doctor if These Hands™ are right for you”

Disaster Gay

Mud

Firbolg/Fighter (Champion) AC: 12

STR: 20(+5) DEX: 11(+0) CON: 16(+3) INT: 5(-3) WIS: 11(+0) CHA: 10(+0)

Full name Asmodeus, former chef who wound up in jail with Boos after a particularly wild night at a fancy Inn, bailed out by Desiree who was looking for a cook to hire at the time. Travels with the party because ‘Y’all seem like decent folks’

Heart of Gold

“Uh, ma’am, you’re usin’ an awful lot of fancy words there…”

Team Dumbass Mascot

Amazing cook

Just a Cow-Boy riding along with his friends

Sexual preferences set to ‘No thanks’

Berlana the Bunker

Hill Dwarf/Rogue (Scout) AC: 14

STR: 13(+1) DEX: 17(+3) CON: 19(+4) INT: 15(+2) WIS: 10(+0) CHA: 7(-2)

Hired by Adora to help explore a cursed tower, ended up sleeping with Aurykke after the quest was complete. Decided to keep traveling with the party because Adora pays really well, plus medical and dental are free.

“I’ll find every trap in this place, intentionally or otherwise!”

Honorary member of Team Dumbass

Can drink anyone under the table, insists that she can ‘Make better ale than this with my eyes closed!’, Has gotten the party banned from A LOT of taverns

Insists she’s keeping records of all her expenses, and will present them to Adora once her employment is complete. She isn’t 

Functional Lesbian

@sugarskullgrin @likeabirdinflight

[thetradeway]

Session 28: 16 Jan 2021 ‘I don’t like it, Berk, not one bit’

We all join Discord in dribs and drabs, and there is some discussion of what went on last week. Wait - our elf!!

We make perception checks, Popcorn at advantage. Tarragon wakes first. We are back in our camp - but surrounded by runes and bright lights. A disembodied voice tells her that we were protected overnight, and that the half-elf gang have left no trace of where they went - and that “the elven nations will rise again”. The magic of the rune circle seems familiar, but Tarragon doesn’t know the spell.

Around the edge of the circle of runes there are scratch marks, as if woodland creatures have tried to get in but were unable to cross the threshold of runes. Gideon recognises it as protective magic. Gunna strolls across the edge of the circle - it shimmers and disappears. Gideon: “You broke it! Look what you’ve gone and done! 12D20 Necrotic damage.”

As Gunna steps across the runes, he goes over to the tree roots. Too late he sees an enormous toad that has been lurking - it jumps out at him. Ambush!! Gideon: “Gunna, have you got any dog treats??’’ If massive toads eat trail mix and beef jerky then sure. “What about a coconut?”

The toad bites Gunna’s top half, which is now inside it.

Initiative! What’s Ahleqs Dex, the DM wants to know? ‘It’s a secret.’

Popcorn is up - he rushes up and bites the thing. Gunna struggles to free himself and rolls a Nat 1. Shit.

(There is some discussion of what happened while we were out - the elves put us back in our camp and tucked us in, and it is decided that they also put clean underwear on us. A little intrusive but Gunna is pleased, because he did shit himself before last night’s battle.)

Ahleqs does some magic at it for 12 points of damage.

The toad swallows Gunna! He takes 10 points of acid damage. Right, that’s it. (Gideon has THE BEST idea. He knows how to get Gunna out of there.) The toad decides it’s off with its new meal. Tarragon, rolling up her sleeves: “Absolutely not.” 

Kessler is up. Lightning launcher. Can she use her second attack to grapple? Consensus says no. Fine, she will stab it in the neck. (Ahleqs muses that the locals probably have a special tool for extracting their friends from a giant toad. A toad-corer, or something.)

Gideon’s idea: he grabs sand and incense from his backpack and mushes it together, wrenches the toad’s mouth open and shoves it in to try and get it to puke Gunna up. He has to make a STR check - rolls an 8. He can do it at advantage! Yay! He rolls a 10. He gets some of it in. The toad rolls - below 10 he will puke. above 10 he will not. It quivers, belches, and pukes Gunna. Yay! He is covered in slime and acid; so much for the clean underwear.

Tarragon Thorn Whips her toad back and forth, for 11 damage. It’s looking rough. Popcorn gets the killing blow. (Tarragon can now be a giant toad if she wants.)

Kessler checks for any trace of Melaina, with Guidance, for a total of 22. She finds no tracks, and suspects that magic might be involved in hiding their traces. She does find a stray arrow, and believes it to be Melaina’s. Ahleqs jokingly suggests letting Popcorn sniff it; Tarragon decides this is a great idea. She lets him sniff the arrow but he can’t find any trace of Melaina apart from next to the tree.

Gunna looks at his maps; it turns out that he kept drawing as the mushrooms were kicking in so they’re not super helpful. He then realises that we have missed the floating circus that was coming to town in Waterdeep; it was advertised in the paper. Dammit.

Ahleqs climbs a tree to look for any trace of the half-elf gang; he makes athletics checks to ascend. Gunna suggests using the toad as a trampoline. Then we decide to move it under the tree for when - not if - Ahleqs falls.

He actually doesn’t fall, but manages to see some smoke rising in the distance to the north east, though he can’t quite tell how far. He shouts down; Tarragon hears him, and notes how impressed she is with his bravery. He gets almost all the way back down before rolling an 8; but he doesn’t fall.

We pack up and head north east.

(Melaina’s captors are treating her well; they keep casting Pass Without Trace. She keeps trying to leave tracks for us to follow, but they melt into the surrounding scenery. She hears talk of a princess, and there is more talk of meeting other elves to hand her over, to ‘be with her own kind’. They don’t seem to mean her harm. She can’t tell with a nat 1 if she is the princess of which they are speaking. She is magically restrained, but walking. They have her surrounded. She tries to get them to explain what’s going on, rolls an 11. They say they are taking her to an old elf ruin in the forest that was part of an ancient sun elf empire. There are elves living in the ruins, trying to rebuild it. They pay relics for the gang of half-elves to gather up more elves and bring them there.)

The trees where we are are enormous. We make Perception checks; Gunna can’t see any signs of the smoke Ahleqs saw, but he does find more mushrooms. He picks them and puts them in his backpack for later. Tarragon sees some druidic runes on the rocks. Most are fairly innocuous trail markers pointing to water, but it’s an odd dialect. She thinks it’s Firbolg. They are known to hide their dwellings with illusion spells. They are friendly as long as respect is shown for the forest. The runes are markers for berries and water, that sort of thing. No warnings. This part of the forest is under their protection.

Tarragon leaves another druidic message to tell them that we are here, we’ve lost our friend and if they can offer any help we are travelling north-east. Gideon, having been told that Firbolg are sort of humanoid cow people, practices mooing in order to converse with any Firbolg we run into. ‘Moo! We come in peace! Moo! Moo!’

We search for breakfast; there is plenty around. Tarragon helps Ahleqs with which berries are safe and which are poisonous. Suddenly Popcorn starts to get excited; has someone fallen down a well?

He darts off into the woods - we follow. (Ahleqs rolls a nat20 for a 19 total athletics. Strength is a dump stat, for him.) We keep pace, until we reach a clearing. Popcorn stops in front of a tree. The bark starts to shift into a face. Ahleqs does a little scream.

It speaks in elvish: “in the forest i got it so I sat down to seek it, since I couldn’t find it I took it home with me.” 

Ah, a riddle. Our strong suit. (Matthew riffs off of Rude Tales and Riddle Guy 97 for a bit). We throw out a bunch of guesses, none of which the face responds to. Gunna suggests giving the face some Sex Thumb. Gideon thinks it might have some pepper spray in its barky pocket.

Is it, ‘yourself’? The face doesn’t respond. Melaina’s lost forever, and we’re never leaving this tree. (DM offers us another riddle if we don’t want to spend an hour thinking about this one.) We roll WIS checks and get a clue - which is, ‘ouch’. A splinter!

The air shimmers. We find ourselves in a clearing, with a treehouse. Does Ahleqs think this is about where the fire was that he saw a while ago? Intelligence check: 18. Yes, it would have been around here. A warm hearth and maybe a cup of tea might be in the offing. There is a big door in the tree - Gunna knocks. Ahleqs hides behind the nearest person, ‘even if they’re a gnome or goblin’.

Gideon yells: ‘hello!!’ The door opens and a female firbolg appears. She’s very pretty. Gideon decides he’s our ambassador; Gunna tries to cover his mouth.

The firbolg greets us and asks what we’re doing here. We lost our elf, Gunna explains what happened. A bunch of other elves stole her. The firbolg looks perplexed - we were attacked by elves? We explain that they wanted our elf, but she didn’t want to go so they forced us by fighting and took her. Does she know where a gang of half-elves might hang out so we can go and do diplomacy at them to get our friend back?

This seems to surprise the firbolg. This forest is home to half-elf renegades, but they’re usually decent people. Gideon lies and says he saw one scratching his name into a tree, but rolls a nat 1 on deception. The firbolg is not impressed. (It’s a bit like Gimli when he talks to Galadriel and gets all flustered and asks for a lock of her hair.)

The firbolg addresses Tarragon. Do we have anything that belonged to our friend? Yes, we have her arrow. If Tarragon will help her ask the spirits, they might help us find Melaina.

There is a standing stone in the glade; she leads Tarragon to it and asks her to sit. The others follow. (Ahleqs has heard stories about druids dancing naked in the forest so he trails behind, face bright red.)

Has Tarragon dealt with forest spirits before? DM says Not directly. They can be tricksy, so be prepared.

The Firbolg starts humming and rocking back and forth. The wind starts to pick up, and little dust devils spring up. Tarragon makes a concentration check at advantage and gets TWO NAT 20s!!!!! The awesomeness is too much for Discord, which boots all of us off at once.

Little stones and pebbles start to levitate. The wind whips up into a crescendo until it drops suddenly. The arrow is transformed into a green pulsing orb. The firbolg tells us to follow it and it will lead us to Melaina.

Can we do anything to thank her? We have treated her forest with respect, so she says that’s enough. Gunna offers her one of those necromantic red seeds; she accepts and says she will plant it, excited to see what comes up. After some discussion we decide that it wasn’t the one that needs a corpse to grow. It was the one that was used to make the healing bread, and Tarragon sold the recipe so we can’t make any anyway.

Do we need healing potions? Some of us take a few. What can we give her to pay for them, considering that she has no use for money? We all sort through our belongings and come up with some bagpipes, an abacus…

Gideon debates keeping the bagpipes. Can he play them? He can try. They remain, however, the devil’s instrument. He makes a performance check and rolls a 16, but he’s playing a Rod Stewart song so everyone hates it.

Ahleqs offers to do a trick in exchange for potions; if the firbolg is impressed enough she will accept. He lights Simon. He rolls a 10 on his performance, but luckily she thinks it’s cute so she accepts. Gunna swaps his obsidian monkey for a potion. Kessler exchanges some silver earrings; the firbolg twists them around and puts them in her hair.

Gunna asks her name; she says people call her Dana (DAH-na). She wishes us luck, and says she’s certain our friend is fine if she’s with the half-elves.

Tarragon gives Dana her lucky pocket stone.

We leave and as we look back, the firbolg dwelling disappears into the surrounding forest.

(The half-elves lead Melaina through the forest - she sees tall white marble pillars coming up. She thinks this must be the ruins. She makes an escape attempt but it fails. She is told to hear the elves out and they are sure they will let her go if she doesn’t want to stay. They then put her in a cage on top of a tower, thus immediately contradicting themselves. Melaina notices a pale-haired elf gliding up the steps; she eavesdrops on the conversation that happens between this new elf and the half-elf gang that brought her here. The new elf is saying thank you for retrieving her ‘guest.’ She gives them an item that she says is from a long-fallen elven civilisation, presumably in payment. The half-elves leave. ‘Most people give out pamphlets,’ Melaina tells the pale-haired elf as she approaches Melaina’s cage.)

Back with Team Sweet Flips, we make athletic/acrobatic checks to keep up with the orb leading us to Melaina. It leads us to the DLC area, aka. the marble tower. (We didn’t know we had the Game of the Year edition.) Go stealth? There’s a discussion. Gunna decides we’re done and goes up to a door and knocks on it. Kessler hides.

Gideon demonstrates his Deep Speech; it gives Ahleqs a stomach ache. We move through the ruins, which seem uninhabited. We reach a tower with stairs leading up it. Gunna shouts, ‘Oi, flat top!’

Melaina feels judged under the gaze of the pale elf, who says with disgust that Melaina isn’t a sun elf but perhaps she will do. ‘The devils aren’t picky’. Um - the whomst???

Melaina gets the distinct impression that she won’t be allowed to leave after all.

We start climbing the stairs and hear whispered voices in elvish - Tarragon translates while Ahleqs casts Light. (Tarragon gets a dirty 20, with Guidance, on Perception to hear the voices.)

The elves are talking about demons and devils. It seems that Melaina is going to be offered to them - not as a sacrifice but to be impregnated????? We decide to impose some diplomacy, with axes, immediately. Roll initiative.

Gunna goes first, rushes into the room and hates everything he sees except Melaina. He decides to go out of character and use some actual diplomacy, and says ‘have a nice trip’ - while attacking with a longsword and forcing a STR save. The elf fails and is knocked prone. He action surges and attacks twice more, at advantage because of the prone-ness. He forces a WIS save, which the elf fails, and should be Frightened of him - but she isn’t. A tough cookie, this one.

13 MISSES, 24 HITS

Ahleqs is up next. He holds an Eldritch Bl - no, he Dashes instead to get into the room. Popcorn Dashes as well, to flank the fallen elf with Gunna. Kessler wants to remain hidden. She wanted to fire her lightning launcher but the elf is prone so she would have Disadvantage; she is advised OOC to roll high numbers. She does a level 2 Magic Missile instead. The elf reaction-shields. Well, shit.

All the talk of demons has raised Gideon’s religious ire, so he charges to the top of the stairs yelling that we would see the demons dead!!! The elf is still prone. One sec… Does she have weapons? No. She did cast Shield, so probably a magic user. She has a pretty, booby dress on, we are told. He casts Chill Touch.

16 MISSES

Gideon: “Bugger! Let’s kick her face in!”

Tarragon becomes a furious bear.

Melaina doesn’t have any of her stuff, so she Mage Hands her thieves tools to herself.

The elf uses half her movement to stand up. She looks at us with disgust and says, ‘how dare you touch me?’ Gunna spits in her mouth. Horns sprout from her head and leathery wings come out from her back. OH FUCCCCKKKKKK NOT AN ELF NOT AN ELF NOT AN ELF ABORT ABORT ABORT

She flies into the air - ‘on fell wings’ - about 20 feet up. Then she mutters something in abyssal, (‘This might not even be her final form!!’ Gideon, don’t say things like that….) (Ed gets a knot in his hair and tries to comb it out, succeeding only in pulling it.)

Oh shit there’s boss music!! We are so fucked.

The abyssal did something we think, because she seems to be summoning horrible little creatures. (Gunna: ‘Why couldn’t it have been ducks? A level 1 and a level 9 duck are pretty much the same…’) There’s a minute or so while Joe puts everything in the order.

She casts Fireball - turns out the Summons were not Summoned, they just appeared from hiding. She hits Gunna, Gideon and bear-Tarragon, and we all fail our saves. Gideon will walk it off, it’s only 27 points of fire damage.

Something casts Fetid Cloud (shouts of ‘Gideon!’. It wasn’t him, he swears. He offers to respond with his own? We decline.) It’s a dretch, and it proceeds to attack Popcorn. Gunna casts Banishment. And Dispel Magic. And Counterspell. “It’s a special Northman skill.” The DM does not buy it.

The dretch bites at Popcorn but misses. Then it slashes at his belly, and hits. Shit.

Gunna attacks the dretch that attacked Popcorn, and hits, then hits again - and kills it! Yay!

16 HITS THE DRETCH

Gideon is playing with his voice changer again.

Ahleqs, save the day! Or turn into a plant pot. Either’s good. He did see Tarragon turn into a bear, so he knows that’s her. ‘What are these little fellas, what we got here?’ He does an Arcana check for a 12, and knows that they are quasits - sometimes kept as familiars. He does Fireball at the big demon bitch, since she’s 20 feet up and he won’t get us with the blast radius. She fails her save - aw yisssss. She is engulfed in the fireball. We expect to see her charred body once the flame clears, but she emerges barely singed. Resistant to fire, then. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool, nodoubtnodoubtnodoubtnodoubtnodoubt.

(Oh shit, Ahleqs is still blue!)

He balls up his courage, thinks of Mr Pickles and stands his ground. Today is a day for heroics.

The quasit tries to Scare Gunna - he makes a WIS save and passes. The quasit claws at bear-Tarragon’s nose and almost gnomes her. A Babau does a Weakening Gaze on Gunna but he passes his CON save.

Something else casts Darkness on Gunna, so he is blind. Fuck!

Kessler uses her Lightning Launcher but misses both times. She retreats back round a corner out of line of sight. Smart. (She is told that the flying demon can probably still see her, so she back up a bit more.)

Gideon decides to try a Summons of his own. He casts Summon Undead! Wait, he’s too poor and can’t afford the 300gp. Scratch that. No - DM rules that he can use his spellcasting focus. Woohoo! He summons a skeletal undead. Pop! ‘Ha - behold!’ (He drag-and-drops onto the map and it has its own little icon - cool!) He issues a verbal command to the skeleton (named Rusty) - ‘Skewer that demon!’ (He thinks briefly that Rusty has a Putrid Aura, but is mistaken - ‘no, that’s you’, Melaina tells him.) Rusty does a Grave Bolt, but rolls a 6. ‘You fool Rusty! Try it with precision!’

Bear-Tarragon tears the head off a quasit with her teeth and spits it across the room.

Melaina picks the lock on her cage with a 26 and escapes. She goes to collect her weapons and other stuff, then crouches down amongst her gubbins and rocks and stuff and has a bit of a hide.

The remaining quasit frightens Tarragon, who rolls a nat 1 on her save. It attacks her as well, but misses.

Another dretch casts Fetid Cloud on Gunna - its only the third most disgusting thing he’s ever smelled.

Something swipes at Rusty, but misses, and Rusty gives us a sample of his Southern accent, then chatters in a boney, skeleton-y way.

Another dretch slashes at Popcorn, doing 23 damage. Ahleqs makes a WIS save… bear with him… he uses ToC to give himself advantage. He rolls a 14, which is still a fail. He is suddenly infatuated with the demon. Aroused and ashamed, he can’t look away. He cannot attack her or cause her harm now. This is way worse than the time he fell in love with the daughter of the guy next door.

ToC - for the next minute he must shout when he speaks. He’s screaming anyway, so that’s fine. The demon does Tasha’s Mind Whip on… who? Bear Tarragon, fuck. She fails her save.

This attack re-gnomes her, and in addition she can’t take a reaction, and next turn can move, or take an action, or take a bonus action. Nasty.

Gunna attacks something with his longsword, at disadvantage because he’s still in the dark and therefore blind. He feels a splash of blood on his skin. He takes another swing. After that, it occurs to him that he could be hitting one of us. (Joe would ask how-de-do-dis, but Gunna has no idea because he can’t see.) He rolls to see which direction he wanders in. He should be careful or the headline will be: Blind adventurer stumbles off tower. Good luck guys, Gunna will see us on the other side.

Ahleqs wants to know if he can cast a spell on something behind the demon and if she’s in the way then she’s in the way. Probably not. He casts Witch Bolt on something else instead, for a 22, and does 22 lightning damage. How de do dis!

he screams “I’M SORRY!!!” as it explodes into chunks. Some of them hit Popcorn, and some of them hit something unseen. Sneaky. Ahleqs repeats his save vs the Charm spell, with adv. from ToC, but still fails. All his hair falls out. Now he’s a little bald, blue man.

It’s the secret friend’s turn. It does something to Gunna, but he’s gone for a poo (probably) so we wait for him to come back. He sees red eyes moving in the magical darkness, and a wizened skull face. What kind of armour is he wearing? (Never a good question.) Studded leather. The studs on his armour start to heat up. Ah, fuck. He makes a CON save and fails, taking 4 fire damage - for a start. Until the spell ends he can be caused another 4 damage on each of the creature’s turns, and gets disadvantage on all checks and saves. Oh, fuck!

Kessler pops back into the room. She takes aim at the flappy demon in the air with her Lightning Launcher, and misses. Twice. She needs to recalibrate the laser space torpedos. Ahleqs, who is in something far darker and more disgusting than love with the demon, is horrified. All these feelings…

Kessler hides, insisting that her power armour is in Infiltrator mode (cue jokes about Bumblebee hiding behind a rock on the beach) and then to add to this hilarity, she rolls a nat 1.

Grease wizard is up. He makes a CON save for a 21, vs the Fetid Cloud. He shrugs it off. “I’ve smelled worse in the slave pits of - well, we won’t go there. Right, you, foul demon lady!” He finds himself closer to her than he thought, and backs up. “The plan, naturally, is of course, to… er… I had planned to run up and shocking grasp her, but I forgot she was flying. Well… Er… Most of my spells are burning related and therefore pretty useless. How high can I jump? Perhaps I can Thunderwave her. Where there’s a grease wizard, there’s a way.” There’s some fumbling, then he works out he can jump 3 feet. Not quite gonna cut it. Can he get a boost, from Trusty Rusty? Yes! The plan is to parkour off of Rusty, five feet up, then Thunderwave the demon bitch. He has to make STR check for Rusty first. 10 will do it! Under her, mid-air, he Thunderwaves her.

It’s a CON save for demon bitch, who makes the save. “Damn and blast.” Gideon lands in a disappointed heap on the floor. She takes half damage and isn’t pushed; he was hoping to knock her into the ceiling. DM thought that was epic. She takes the damage - she’s not resistant to Thunder. It doesn’t break concentration on the Charm spell though, as that’s a racial ability. Rusty does a Grave Bolt for 11 Necrotic damage, which pisses Gideon off a bit. “Outclassed by my own summon.” 

Tarragon Thorn Whips the quasit but misses. Grr.

Gunna asks how tall the tower is? About 100 feet. If he does fall off, that will probably kill him. Also he’s a bit on fire. He’s scrambling to take his armour off; it would be a noble death. Or not.

Melaina hides with a nat 20 for 30 total. She is hidden from big demon bitch, after some scuffling and shouting over Joe. (‘Stop interrupting the DM, you lot!’) She Sharpshoots it for a 19. Now let’s be clear. She rolls a nat 1 for her damage - and still does 26 points of piercing damage. What a badass.

Demon bitch Cure Wounds herself. (We are furious; when the DM does that it’s definitely cheating.) Then she casts Inflict Wounds, swooping down on Tarragon - no she doesn’t, actually. Ha. She doesn’t have enough movement. She moves closer; Tarragon sees she is darkly beautiful, and doesn’t like the feelings it produces. Demon bitch casts Tasha’s Caustic Brew, and Tarragon fails her Dex save. She will take acid damage until she takes an action to remove it from her body.

Gunna is right on the edge, but makes a Perception check and knows that’s where he is and not to move forward. He takes off his armour. (This will take him a minute - ten rounds. Might be better toughing it out…? If he gets hit without armour, that will definitely do more than 1D4 damage a round.) His stumbling has brought him close to Ahleqs, who is also now blinded. (He feels a strong urge to find a way out of the dark so he can get another glimpse at the beautiful demon.)

Ahleqs backs up a bit more. He can only see his love, now. (Wait, where’s Popcorn in the order? He must have fallen out somehow. I roll for him and Joe puts him back in. Popcorn can take an action and ready another, if he likes, on his turn.) Ahleqs casts Eldritch Blast - the first misses but the second hits. He does 7HP to a quasit, which bursts in a cloud of filth. He makes another save vs the Charm and fails again. ToC - he gains resistance to all damage for the next minute. Sweet.

Popcorn readies an action, there being nothing he can see that he could reach.

It’s our invisible friend’s turn. The good news for Gunna is that the darkness falls and he regains his sight, and his armour stops burning him. The bad news is that Kessler has to make a CON save - which she fails. Her armour starts to burn her. Invisible friend reveals himself - it looks like a black bin bag with horns. (Joe shows us a picture; Sophie thinks this guy needs to see an orthodontist as soon as possible and she’s not wrong. A mani-pedi wouldn’t go amiss, either.)

Kessler takes another 5 fire damage at the start of her turn, from the scorchio armour. She goes for the new guy with a dagger and hits for 6 piercing damage - then goes again for another 6. It seems resistant to that kind of damage, however. Cooooooooool. ‘Fuck you, creature, fuck you.’ She bonus-action-disengages, and backs down the stairs.

Grease wizard and Rusty are up. What are they doing? ‘Good question. Well. Shit.’ Uh… Perhaps a Chill Touch? ‘Alight, alight I say!’ 11 to hit? Yeah, nah. Bugger! ‘Rusty - Skewer!’ ‘Okay boss,’ in a hillbilly accent. Rusty misses too. ‘Ah no!’

Tarragon uses her action to remove the acid. Riveting stuff.

Melaina hides and shoots for a fuck ton of damage.

(Joe tells us that he’s read Demon bitch’s spells and has tactically decided not to use one of them, because it could reduce one of us to ash. We all breathe sighs of relief.) Demon bitch does Mind Whip against Melaina, who fails her save and takes 13 PSY damage.

Gunna’s armour is no longer on fire, so he drops his sword and shield on the ground to pull out his longbow. (Oo-er.) He shoots at demon bitch, aiming at her wings, hoping to knock her out of the sky (a fighter ability, I think). He hits - but she reaction-shields. He fires again, hits for a 21! She is forced to make STR save (From Joe’s voice, not something she’s good at). She gets a 19, however. She takes the damage, but is not knocked out of the sky. Booh.

Ahleqs does Witch Bolt on New Guy, 25 hits for 30 Lightning damage. Woah! It doesn’t do as much damage as he hoped, however. ToC - he casts Mirror Image. A whole bunch of extra Ahleqses appear, all bald, blue and shouting.

Popcorn rushes over to New Guy and makes a multi-attack - but both miss. Gunna yells at him not to be a hero, but he’s very stupid and doesn’t understand.

New Guy causes Kessler another 5 fire damage from her superheated armour. (Ahleqs remembers he was supposed to make a save vs the Charm spell. Can he use ToC twice? Yes, and he makes the save and the Charm drops. He is immediately disgusted with himself. His ToC makes every creature within 30 feet of him are now vulnerable to piercing damage for the next minute. Which is most of us, and none of the baddies. Awesome.)

New guy is a Babau. It takes an opportunity attack from Popcorn who hits it, and is only slightly disappointed at the little amount of damage it takes. The Babau attacks Gunna (who has dropped his shield), and does 10 piercing damage.

Kessler makes a CON save to see if she can attack without disadvantage from her fiery armour, and passes. She takes another 5 fire damage but is not hampered. She shoots some lightning at the babau and gets a solid hit with a 26, for 14 damage. He takes half damage, but he takes it. Kessler shouts, “Oi, we haven’t finished over here!” She shoots again with a dirty 20, for another 6 points (halved) and slams a healing potion for her bonus action.

Grease wizard’s mic has been broken for the last half hour; he’s been chatting away to himself without realising why none of his jokes were landing. Lol. He Chill Touches the demon lady but misses. He does a battle cry, which Kessler mistakes for his hernia cry.

Rusty has a go and whiffs. DM: ‘Rusty done fucked up.’

Tarragon Healing Word’s Gunna for 7 HP (without two rage damage on top). She Thorn Whips the demon bitch but misses, and moves forward to menace her from the ground.

Melaina sharpshoots something but misses. Shit. She can’t do anything else because of Tasha’s Mind Whip; Tasha has turned on her.

It’s the Babau’s turn. It casts Confusion on Kessler and Popcorn; they both fail their WIS saves. Popcorn, for his part, is only mildly more confused than he normally is.

Gunna slams a potion, and brandishes his silvered battle axe. He attacks the babau two handed with an 18, forcing a STR save. It passes. Dammit. It still takes 8 slashing damage. Gunna attacks again with a natty 20! That misses. (lol.) He’s got a critical hit deck; he clicks on that to see what happens. No table found with that name. DM, fed up with roll20’s bullshit: ‘Shitty death.’ He’s doing slashing damage, so it is a slash to the ribs for max damage. (which is halved, but still.) Noice! He forces another STR save, which the Babau fails. Woo! It’s knocked prone. He legs it back to his sword and shield.

Ahleqs’s Witch Bolt from last turn can do damage on this turn as well - it’s halved, but it still takes it.

Popcorn rolls a 9 for the Confusion spell, which lets him move and act normally. (For an already confused creature, magical confusion doesn’t do much.) He rushes over to the Babau and multi-attacks it, hitting both times. The damage is halved but Popcorn is still pretty happy with that. The Babau stands up and skewers him for 9HP. Nooo! This is the babau’s last warning - he’s attacking everyone’s favourite party member, here.

Kessler has to attack someone at random; she rolls a d8, to attack Gideon. ‘Betrayal! Racial profiling!’ She rolls a 17 to hit (is she playing Among Us, or something?) This is not going to look good on her performance review. She’s fired. She gets a multi-attack and rolls to hit Rusty. NooO! (Rusty has less cute appeal than Popcorn; waft of the grave is less appealing.)

There’s a lot of shouting as everyone talks at once. Rusty, momentarily dropping the hillbilly accent: ‘I don’t like it, Berk, not one bit’

Gideon attacks Kessler back; this has been brewing for a while, let’s be honest. He justifies it by saying perhaps it’ll knock some sense into her. He does a Thunderwave - Kessler fails her save and flies ten feet backward. Off the tower? Gideon: ‘one can only hope.’ No, only ten feet. ‘But if I did it again…’

Kessler can make her save again as she’s taken damage, but fails again. Rusty Grave Bolts the demon lady, but misses.

Tarragon Healing Word’s Gunna again, and Thorn Whips demon bitch - she hits this time, but only 3 points of damage. Not halved though, so yay.

Melaina moves and tries to hide behind the cage; she’s an elf so she can hide in drizzle if she wants. Popcorn is engaged with the Babau (Melaina thought they were only going out!) so Melaina gets advantage - she sharpshoots, but misses.

Demon bitch casts Inflict Wounds on Ahleqs, but misses. He is very lucky, because she cast that at a higher level.

Gunna improvises a weapon using his sword - hits demon bitch with the handle end. No, he swats her with his shield, like she’s a giant mosquito. The idea is to do some fancy fighter moves and use his bonus action to grapple her. 13 to hit? That misses. He uses Unarmed Strike for a 22, and 6 bludgeoning. He makes a grapple attempt - contested STR checks. He beats her, handily, and grapples her.

Ahleqs still has Witch Bolt up. Lightning damage don’t impress her much, but he goes for it anyway. He uses ToC because he’s terrified of her, and casts it at level 2. 17 just hits, phew. 19 damage. 1D6 flumphs appear; and are frightened of Ahleqs. He rolls - a six. Maximum flumphs. Gideon decides to try all his languages until he finds one they understand.

Joe calls it there. Before we go, Gideon asks how the demon lady is looking - makes an Investigation check for a 14. She looks bruised and bloodied. ‘Is it coming out of her nose mouth and eyes?’ No, she looks a bit heroin chic, but not quite on her last legs.

Melaina (Mialee???) can make a History check at advantage - for a 13. She can’t remember much but she thinks this woman is some kind of half-elf, half-demon hybrid. ‘Disgusting!’ ‘Disgraceful!’ ‘Shocking!’ ‘Let’s put it in the ground!’

Right. Same time next week :)

[lord-moch]

Here is the story of Meira in written form if you’d like to read it. Hope you all enjoy it!

Meira, Brightmaid Healer

Make sure we have all the preparations ready for the festival of tales, OH! I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you there. My name is Bendus Silverheart, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Have you come for the festival? Oh, it's a wonderful time of year, were we exchange stories from all over Amanlashe, learning of legends, myths, heroes, and villains of our past. Stories like the legend of the talking halberd, the myth of the Bjorn the Battleheart, or the dark legend of the evil Lich sorcerer Pucrex. Would you like to hear a story now? Ahhhhh, your in for a treat. Prepare yourself, for the story of Princess Meira. Long ago, on a moonlit night, the cries of labor pains could be heard throughout the castle.

Queen Mother Isilynor laid back in the most dignified pose one could muster while birthing. With an almost eerie calmness about her, the Queen Mother breathed slowly and deeply, pushing when told and relaxing when her contractions ended. You would think this wasn’t her first child with how composed she has been throughout the whole process.

Isilynor: She should be crowning now.

Firbolg Midwife: Queen Mother, are you alright? 

Your handling the birthing process well, but I fear that your demeanor shows a detached empathy for the child.

Isilynor: Know your place feylf, and deliver the child. My demeanor means nothing at the moment, just bring my daughter into being.

Firbolg Midwife: Yes your highness. 

The racial slur stinging the firbolg midwife, she continued her work feeling the full weight of the derogatory statement. Fake Elf, feylf, a slur name given to firbolgs because of their elf like ears, a ridiculous attempt to feel superior over others, to make others feel subservient to the elves. Even with the foul comment fresh in her mind, the firbolg midwife continued working. Sometime later, a healthy baby girl was born and named Meira by the Queen Mother. Refusing to hold the infant, the Queen Mother ordered that the baby be taken to its quarters. It would be some time before the Queen Mother would ever be parental towards her child, in her own way. 

89 Years Later

A young maiden looks out over the battlefield seeing the carnage of war and what it brings to the realm. The rhino-folk and elephant-kin have been hunted like animals by the dragonborn for centuries. While, for the most part, the ivories tend to hold their own in battle, they’ve managed to gain support from the dwarven stronghold of Kunnenat. The dwarves of Marr Karitat rarely leave their mountainous homes, or their civil war, unless it is for the benefit of their clan or stronghold. The rhino-folk will make excellent shock troops for Crystalbeard Clan, and will bolster their claim for the throne amongst their stronghold. In the distance, an attack formation of elves moves in on a detachment of ivories for the kill. The maiden riding a hippogriff lands and bars their way.

Meira: I order you to cease this attack and move on with your platoon. They are injured and cannot defend themselves. 

Woodelf Sergeant: Princess Meira, we are under orders to leave no quarter, and show no mercy.

Meira: As princess of Glorandal Taure, I order you to return to your platoon. These people are under my protection now. You two, you will stay and assist the wounded.

Woodelf Soldiers in unison: Ma’am!

The 2 rhino-folk, 1 elephant-kin, and 3 children appear frightened by the arrival of a royal member of the thorned throne. The Princess lower herself down off of her hippogriff and kneels down exposing the horn on her forehead.

Meira: Do not be frightened children, I am here to help. Please, allow me to heal your wounds and bring comfort to your young ones.

Rhino-folk 1: The horned elf mocks us and wants to heal our afflictions. We would not be suffering if you had kept your noses clean and left the scales to their own battles.

Meira: My people only intervened because of our treaty with the Fanged State. If your people wouldn’t have seeked the help of the Karit-rukum, we’d be in the forest right now minding our own business.

Elephant-kin: If we hadn’t begged the dwarves for help, our herd would have been wiped out!

Meira: You don’t understand! I don’t want this, but I’m just as helpless as you. I may be a princess, but I have to follow the same orders issued by the Queen Mother as every other elf.

Rhino-folk 2: You don’t know what helpless is!

Elephant-kin: Helpless is watching your children be slain, skinned, and devoured by monsters. Helpless is knowing that no matter how much you beg, threaten, or order, you bare witness to the complete destruction of your kind!

Rhino-folk 1: Enough of this! Kill the pointy-eared devils, and capture the horned one!

With that, the 2 rhino-folk rush the elf soldiers left behind to assist Meira, and quickly brought them down. As the 2 rhino-folk slowly advanced towards the princess and her mount, 2 arrows shot past the maiden and struck the second rhino-folk. After the creature fell, a loud horn erupted from behind the princess, as a giant stag exploded into the area and gored the remaining rhino-folk. Riding the great beast was none other than the Queen Mother, Isilynor, her glittering gold and emerald leafed armor reflecting the sun as if it had just been polished, shone, and never worn. She wielded a great lance with deadly precision in one arm, and a leaf shaped shield in the other. Hair the color of wheat in autumn flowed from her head, with a battle helm framing her face. A small contingent of dragonborn astride drakes circled around the remaining elephant-kin and children, surrounding them.

Meria: Mother, Queen Mother, I appreciate the assistance, but it wasn’t necessary. I was about to…

Isilynor: Why was my sergeant ordered to return to his platoon before handling these people?

Meira: Mother, you don’t understand! They were helpless, and the children. They were going to kill the children!

Isilynor: So helpless that they killed 2 of our own, and threatened your safety?

Meira: They did so out of fear! Please Mother, spare the ivory and her children. Allow me to bring them safely to the forest.

A green scaled dragonborn astride a drake rides up to meet the argueing elves. A snake like tongue tasting the air as he moves his head, taking in the conversation, and responding with calculated words.

Talon: Queen Mother, I must remind you that according to our treaty, it is unlawful to allow refugees of the ivories safe haven in Glorandal Taure.

Isilynor: I am well aware of our laws and customs, and you would do well not to assume my intelligence or memory.

Talon: Of course Queen Mother, we will dispose of them now. My kin, feast!

Meira: NO! I claim them by right of capture, they are mine to do with as I see fit!

Talon: You have no right of capture. You belong to no brood, which means you have no hunting grounds to make prey of them.

Isilynor: Actually Talon, upon the signing of that treaty, my family and I were officially recognized as our own brood in the Fanged State. And since I rule all of Glorandal Taure, then the forest acts as my hunting grounds. Also, since I am Queen Mother of all elves, all my children have full rights to claim capture against any remaining ivories. Lieutenant, let it be known to all commanders, that they are to capture all defeated ivories, and arrange transport for them to Glorandal Taure.

Talon: You have made your point Queen Mother, the Princess may take the meat with her.

Isilynor: And I will be taking 50 of the finest bulls captured, along with 100 cows. A gift, to show your appreciation for all the assistance the emerald forest has given you.

Talon: Queen Mother, surely you must be jesting?

Isilynor: Lieutenant!

Talon: No, no, no, no, of course. A gift, to the thorned throne and our great friends of the forest.

Isilynor: Belay that order lieutenant, take these 3 too our healers. Finish assisting the Fanged State in their endeavors, round up our assets, and move for home. I grow tired of these scales and their hunts. Meira, come with me.

After all the orders are issued, elves and dragonborn begin moving about handling various odds and ends. An estimated 400 rhino-folk, 500 elephant-kin, and 150 dwarves were captured by broods of the Fanged State., with over 1,000 dead enemy combatants. About 1,500 ivories were allowed escape behind the Crytalbeard’s boom wall. The Queen Mother and Meira ride silently towards the command post, the smell of death and decay heavy on the field. The clerics of the Fanged State will be hard at work to prevent the rise of undead. The more likely outcome is that a mage of some kind will pay for the rights to any dead enemy combatants, while the other will be treated and mourned by their compatriots. The Queen Mother and Meira arrive at the command post, entering Isilynor’s private quarters.

Meira: Mother, thank you for sparing their lives and saving as many as you could. I know you're under pressure to apeas the Fanged State, but it was the right…

Isilynor: I grow tired of you ignoring my orders and doing as you wish. What you did out there caused the deaths of two of your brothers, my children. The only reason you haven’t been banished, or even killed, is because of who you are. I’ve granted you this small act of kindness, but the traditions of the Fanged State must be upheld. 

Meira: What do you mean mother?

Isilynor: You and I will hunt down the mother elephant-kin, and serve her as we receive Talon and his attaché. We will observe the traditions of the scales, and hunt the ivory, bringing her down together.

Meira: I… I won’t. I can’t. You can’t expect me to do something so heinous? What about her children? What will you do with them.

Isilynor: They will join the others as troops loyal to me and the thorned throne. At this moment, my men are preparing for the hunt. You have no more authority, so do not attempt to use your position. We will hunt in the morning, and you will slay the beast, along with any thoughts of not following my will in the future. Do I make myself clear!

Meira: But mother, you can’t do this! This is monst…

Isilynor: DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!

Meira: Ye… yes, Queen Mother.

Isilynor: Good. Sergeant!

Wood Elf Sergeant: Yes Queen Mother.

Isilynor: Take the princess to her quarters. Confine her there till I come for her.

Wood Elf Sergeant: Yes Queen Mother!

After entering the quarters of the Queen Mothers, the Wood Elf sergeant escorts Meira out, and to her own quarters. Guards posted at her tent, Meira begins pacing anxiously around, racking her mind with options. What will she do? Will she stay loyal, and go through with the hunt, murdering an innocent, or will she flee under the cover of night. How will the story of Meira, brightmaid princess of Glorandal Taure, heir to the thorned throne, and daughter of Queen Mother Isilynor end? A roll of the dice awaits my friends, and now the story is yours to tell.