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thetalesofno-one · 7 months

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Curse of Strahd, Act I: Pt. 1, Ch. IV -Deadman's Path-

D&D Campaign Retelling Part 1/6 Chapter 4/5 ~4.8k words Content Warnings: Curse of Strahd typical content, Read at own risk

Summary At the fork in the road, the Deadman's Path is chosen. The messages of tallies and arrows followed like a promise into the mists where the land drinks of their spirits. Read Previous Chapters also available on AO3

Evie stares at the empty air where Roshan and Evrrot should be. Where any sane person would still be if they hadn’t fucked off into the crazy weird fog without a thought for how sound an idea that could possibly be. The fog is exactly what started this mess and she doesn’t think getting home will be as easy as walking right back into it.

She doesn’t so much as blink, searching that creepy slithering fog for any signs of the fools. There’s nothing there. Literally fucking nothing. No little angry swirls where they passed, no blurry shadow of their silhouettes being eaten alive. Nothing.

She hopes the bastards beyond are still alive to hear it if for no other reason than to let them know she will chew their ears off next she sees them. Who looks at a wall of churning, slithering fog that swallows all like a damn hydra and goes, ‘Let’s go this way’.

Evie catches the giant ponce looking at her with that long suffering look that’s becoming more and more common between them. She hates that she’s wearing it too.

A string of curses creative enough it would’ve raised her father’s brows from his grave face find their way to her lips, but under her breath because she’s still a temple girl even if she’s not exactly sure where she stands with that. To his credit, the tree of an elf beside her doesn’t so much as raise one of his immaculately sharp brows. She wonders a moment if he shapes them himself or if he’s just born that way. Probably the latter. Pure blood elves and their useless handsomeness. She hopes he can swing that broken glaive as well as he fondles it. She swears his hand never leaves the busted thing. Oh he hides it well enough beneath that dark cloak of his, the worn rag draped over one shoulder to hide his blade arm. But she’s short enough to catch a glimpse here and there when he walks and sure enough, his hand hasn’t left that thing since he strolled into the barn with his lifted chin and judgy eyes, looking down on them all.

He looks down on her now. Granted he’s about two feet taller than her, but that’s beside the point.

Evie sighs, “It’s not like we don’t both know we’re just going to follow them.”

He stares at the fog a moment, watching it writhe and swirl in strange patterns before their eyes. For a moment she thinks he’s going to turn back and abandon her—wouldn’t be the first person—but he seems to resign himself and steps into the fog without looking back at her readied glare. She expected him to put up a small resistance to walking ahead of her in his strange, quiet, if misguidedly protective way. Waste of a glare.

She follows in his shadow immediately, not taking any chances with fucky fog in weird forests. It swallows everything, even threatening to swallow each other despite their proximity. She moves closer and feels him tense as her arm brushes his gloved hand, but even right next to him, he is difficult to see through the thick haze, half gone from her sight. It is far too easy to lose each other in this mess and any sign of the others mere moments ahead of them is entirely impossible.

The mist paws at them, crawling over their skin, and sweeping through their hair. The more they breathe it in, the more it feels like something is being stolen away. Evie forces her lungs full, but the choked air only tightens her chest leaving her feeling more empty than before. The strength seeps from her bones like blood from a wound. Even Emet seems more slouched.

The air is too thin, her head growing heavier with each laboring breath. Exhaustion floods them and Evie is reminded of her early days in the temple. The first time she put on armor, it felt like she’d drown in it. The first time she carried a weighted casket, she thought she’d be in the grave herself if she had to take one more step. They made her carry that weight daily until she could bear it. And not just physically. But in this mist she feels like she’s back on that first day, fighting for her life to get the casket on her shoulder even with the aid of another, the familiar strain burning in her lungs and filling her legs with lead.

She and Emet—the moon elf bent and slouching, suffering quietly as he tries not to look like he cannot breathe either—trudge through for what cannot possibly be longer than a handful of minutes, and yet when they finally exit the blinding and sapping fog into the normal unending mist, they feel as though they’ve both run the length of a city in full plate armor.

She pants and catches her breath shamelessly. Emet finally gives up the ruse of not suffering and sinks his back against a tree, leaning far too heavy for someone who’s not dying with her. They both spare a lungful to curse out Mr. “I think I’m so sexy” tiefling and the crazy old man for abandoning them. But their misguided leaders are nowhere to be seen.

“This was a mistake,” Emet snarls, breathing in deep, trying to fill his lungs. It is taking too long for the burn to fade, “Never trust dead men.”

“It’s taken you that long to work that one out?”

“No. There simply wasn’t much other choice.”

Evie takes one more lungful, savoring the strange bitter sweetness of this air. Cemetery air. Air of cold stone and faint rot, sharp and empty with a lingering taste of sorrow, the same air she’s breathed since Daggerford fells into the mists hours ago. The same air that told her they were far, far away from home. But at least it isn’t choking away her every breath. Her strength slowly returns.

“There’s always another choice,” she whispers.

Somewhere else beyond the vampiric mist and lost in the forest, Evrrot and Roshan fight off the same drain on their body and spirit. The fog doesn’t so much as pull away from them as simply end between one step and the next. One moment consumed and blind with the air stolen from their lungs and the next beyond the slithering snakes of fog into the slightly less slithering fog of the deadwood forest.

Roshan quickly spins behind him to check on the others, his loose white robes swishing around his ankles. Evrrot pants heavily beside him with hands on his knees looking as though he just outran the guard. That seems like a thing the devil boy would do. He acts like someone who has outrun many a guard and not just because of the horns. His personality tells a story all its own.

Gulping in the mildly stale air like a parched man finding water in the sands of Calimshan, Roshan puts on his best grin for his next joke before realizing that Evrrot is the only one with him. He spins in a circle, searching along the fog wall’s edge.

“Where are the other two?”

“Probably lost in the mist,” Evrrot pants, gulping loudly.

He lifts his glowing staff, “But I shined a light for them to follow.”

“I don’t know.” Evrrot tosses up his hands and leaves down the path without a second thought for those missing. “I’m gonna keep going, you good to keep up?”

“I am not old,” he says by way of answer.

Roshan’s brow furrows, looking again to the place where the others should appear any moment if they are not lost. But they do not come and Evrrot is already walking away.

“Should we not try and find them?”

Evrrot’s steps end and he sighs.

“If they are in the mist, surely they will come out soon,” Roshan continues.

Though he is stopped, devil boy does not turn back. It is as though he hoped Roshan would simply forget about the people who were just with them and move on. The tiefling chews his lower lip with an air irritation, tail swishing as he impatiently settles his weight from one foot to the other. Roshan wonders if Evrrot must actively force his feet from walking away. As though waiting for others goes against his very nature. Devil boy stares pointedly ahead with the longing of a starving man restraining himself from a hot meal. It is like watching someone decide between cutting off their own hand or taking a slice of honeyed pastry. The choice is no choice at all. Roshan doesn’t need to be a seer to sense Evrrot’s struggle to find a reason to care about the others is a difficult one for him.

“Numbers are better in this sort of situation,” Roshan offers gently.

Evrrot continues to stare pointedly away from where they came. He bites his lip a bit more, devilish fangs worrying the edge before clicking his teeth together.

“Alright, fine.”

He clenches his jaw then loosens, shaking off the tension and grabbing hold of Roshan’s words to force himself back. At least the boy’s mind is capable of seeing the practical and logical value in having a few more bodies between them. It is a start.

Roshan pats Evrrot’s shoulder like a father does a son’s head, “Good lad.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Why are you so angsty? Do you have a bad relationship with your father?”

“No, it was a pleasant one, but…” Evrrot glares, “Why are we even talking about this?”

Devil boy storms off to go find the missing people he’s been told he’s supposed to care about and Roshan sighs. It is a start, he reminds himself.

“Can’t believe those guys went off without us!”

Evie sets her fists on her hips and sneers as she mocks the assholes who left her with the giant ghost. If she can’t tear them a new one, then she’ll settle with complaining about them to Emet instead.

“I thought we were supposed to be sticking together! And yet I can already hear the sound of that damned Evrrot walking away and fucking off into the mist like a twat. Probably thinks he’d do just fine without any of us. Wankers.”

Evie chews a nail then stops herself, “We weren’t that far behind were we?”

She hates how she can hear the worry in her voice when the anger burns itself away. As if all there really is—all there’s really been—is worry. But worry is fear, so she sets it aflame and calls it rage. Because she doesn’t want to be afraid. She wants to be angry.

Emet runs a hand across his face, the metal gauntlet getting tangled in the loose strands of his long white hair a moment. He shakes them free, “No, a few seconds at most.”

“Maybe they’re hiding or some shit.”

“I swear, if one of them jumps out of the mist, I’ll stab them.”

She doesn’t think he’s joking and some part of her respects that. Evie begins calling out for ‘old guy’, making it very clear this isn’t very funny and daggers will be involved if they jump out at them.

She’s about to get more creative with her threats when a strange noise fills the space between her calls. Something like metal whirring and spinning wildly against glass. Evie turns to Emet first wondering if the towering bastard has gone and done something, but his eyes are cast down at her hips. She’s about to curse him out when he wordlessly points and her eyes follow the line of his finger to her pocket. The compass.

The strange sound grows louder as Evie removes the tarnished copper thing. The needle—once erratic and stubbornly refusing to point North—now whirls in a frenzy as though caught in a storm. The sharp red needle now a blur beneath the glass. Small scrapes cut the surface from underneath.

“Well, that’s great. It’s even more useless,” she says.

Evie shoves the broken thing back in her pocket and goes back to loudly and obnoxiously calling out for ‘old guy’, not quite wanting to say her nickname for sexy tiefling out loud since he’d probably ignore the sarcastic nuance and take it as a compliment. No one replies of course, but she and Emet wander aimlessly around the border of the sapping mist in the hopes the other two haven’t actually abandoned them.

She hopes not.

Expects so and yet still hopes not for some stupid reason.

One stolen glance at Emet and she can tell he’s already given up on the others—if he ever expected them to come back for them at all. Abandonment issues isn’t something she wants to have in common with him. It isn’t something she wants at all and yet believing they’ve been left behind is an easier pill to swallow than thinking anyone would come looking for her…them. Come looking for them.

“…get very irritated very quickly. Who hurt you?”

The sing-song melody of Roshan’s accent carries through the still air. Not close, but not far either. She glances up at Emet silently wondering if he hears it too, or if the mist is playing tricks again. But he’s staring off in the same direction she heard the voice. He heard it too then. They pick up their speed, Evie half trotting toward the sound of Roshan’ melodic voice, the human asking something about why Evrrot does not like authority figures as the tiefling trudges into view alongside Roshan. Evrrot wears the expression of someone deeply regretting a decision.

Relief floods Evie like a cool drink on a hot day. Warmth poured over her heart and bones in a brief flicker at seeing them. She almost smiles. Almost. And out of the corner of her eye she catches Emet’s mouth quirk up into a faint grin as though he’s about to make some sarcastic comment before he glances over to her and the smile falls into something else. Like remembering something lost.

She senses the softness on her face before he can say anything, her expression open and unhidden behind the sharp barbs she set in her heart to keep moments like this from happening. To keep people from realizing she still has one. Evie’s eyes sharpen into knives. She’s about to cut Emet first for that look before Evrrot finally spies them, offering a fake smile and an impatient tap of his foot saying, “Alright, we got everyone? Then let’s keep going.”

That’s it? Let’s just go like you’ve been keeping us waiting. No question of what happened or are you alright? Evie wants to snarl at Evrrot and give that tapping foot of his a trim with her short sword or maybe pry out a fang or two from that fake ass smile. She wants to scream and roar and cut something—anything to get away from that moment of letting her mask of steel slip.

Roshan halts his psychological analysis of Evrrot, “Where have you been for the past three minutes?”

Evie blinks, hearing the exact words she wanted to hear but her anger has gone too far already. “Where did you go? You just fucked off!” Evie bites back, venom sharp.

Evrrot’s fake smile turns into a frown matching her own offense as though he has any right to be offended at all.

“We’ve been here!” He yells loudly, “Waiting for you two.”

Evie is about to tell him exactly where he can wait for her booted foot before Roshan starts patting the air like he can put out the flames, “No, no, no. We walked around for a bit hoping to find you.”

“We were right behind you,” Emet gestures to the mist, a little irritated himself if Evie is hearing that faint sharpness in his tone correctly. “Barely a few steps between us.”

Something like concern crosses the holy man’s face, and at least when he wears it, Evie believes it.

“It was more than a few minutes for us,” Roshan answers, “We waited a few minutes and you were nowhere to be found.”

“Minutes?” Emet scoffs, “We were seconds behind you. How could you have had minutes to wait?”

A day and night’s weariness of travel and strangeness wears at the ends of Evie’s nerves with a faint building static. She’s tired. She’s hungry. And all of them are at the very edge of whatever hospitality they had to begin with, which wasn’t much. Roshan tries to explain how time went for them a little better, but his story and their just don’t add up and as tired as they all are, it probably never will. None of this does.

Emet runs a hand through his hair, resigned and looking twice as tired as the rest of them. She wonders if he always looks tired, but the thought is cut short as his eyes catch on something beyond them. Evie turns and spies an eerily familiar tree, with 43 tallies and an arrow. She isn’t sure if she should be glad or furious.

“Either we continue with these endless trees or we risk the fog again and try to find our way back. So which is it,” Emet says flatly, as though he knows that whatever he chooses the tiefling will likely decide the opposite for no other reason than spite. Or perhaps it’s some weird kink for control and this is how he flirts. She doesn’t know anymore and doesn’t care. At least for now, they need to stick together and preferably that will happen someplace away from all this damned fog.

Roshan shakes his head, “The fog is a bad, bad place.”

“All of this is a bad, bad place.”

Without anyone having really decided, they all trudge through the muddy path toward the tree with their feet heavy and minds burdened by the frustrations this day has brought upon them.

Evie’s fingers wander absently over the brooch about her neck, twisting it back and forth on its black velvet cord knowing she can never take it off. Can’t take it off. Her fingers trace the familiar shape of the smooth surface, the last time she’s seen it outside of a mirror or reflection being when her father put it on her. Before, she never cared to take it off. And the first time she tried only weeks ago, she couldn’t. No one could unlatch it or cut it. And soon after her father left, it started to tug at her. She might not know where this heirloom of her father’s is leading her, but she never would’ve guessed it would be to a barnful of strangers forced to rely on each other in some strange land. And without any kind of rest.

Tensions are high.

Sleep and food. That’s what they need. Something hot to fill their bellies, something warm and comfortable to wrap around their shoulders, and something soft to lay their heads upon. Maybe things will make a bit more sense after that. But for now they’re still lost on this cyclical path with heavy eyes and frayed nerves, teeth bared and ready to latch onto each other’s throats. Only the old man seems to have any sort of calm about him as though this is just a casual stroll through winter woods with friends and not a bunch of tired and angry strangers thrown into some kid’s messed up bedtime story.

Sexy tiefling and old man find their way to the tree first, though this one is slightly different than the rest they have encountered. Stabbed into the gnarled and cracked bark of the tree, an old dagger of a style unfamiliar to any kind Evie has seen rests above a crude carving of a man atop a horse. The phrase ‘The horseman rides, the Seer spoke true’ carved below, and once more another 43 tallies with another arrow.

“Well, that’s not ominous,” Emet growls.

“Do you think the horseman is that man we found dead?” Roshan studies the carving a bit closer, “Or that silhouette of the man with the flaming horse? And who is this Seer?”

Evie’s eyes widen, “Oh shit, do you think it’s the same guy? His horse wasn’t on fire though.”

“No, but horses are not usually on fire.”

Fair enough.

“Which one do you think it is then, old guy?”

“I think that man is dead. He is not the problem. He is probably the one who gave this message though. I think we should find this Seer and that we should follow the arrows.”

Evie eyes him. That’s a lot of ‘I think we should’ for someone she just met hours ago. All she wants is to get to some semblance of safety, figure out what part of Faerûn the damned mist spirited them off to, and then be on her way.

“I don’t see why any of this is any of our business.”

“We do not know where we are, any help would be grateful.” Roshan looks around the mist again, nodding to himself, “This place is bad. Bad, bad.”

“I’m with you there.”

The weariness of the day—days?—sets in. Roshan is the first to search the sky for any sign of what time it could possibly be since they entered the parasitic mist. Not like Evie expects anything. Since the air turned from the sweetness of Daggerford celebration to misty cemetery air, they’ve been wandering for what must have been five or more hours by Evie’s estimation, and yet the sky remains a stubborn endless dark grey somewhere between night and day. Only faint greyish light filtering through the tangled barren boughs of the gnarled trees indicates that it might be daylight somewhere above that low blanket of clouds.

“Surely the sun should have risen or set by now, no?” The holy man rubs the burnished metal sun hanging about his neck as though the action might summon the sun emblazoned on it. With no tangible response, he adjusts his robes and points after the next arrow.

“Right, come along children. Let’s go.”

Children?

Evie rolls her eyes. Being twenty-five doesn’t make her a child no matter how young she looks with her half-elven blood. And sexy tiefling has got to be in his thirties with the way he seems to still prize being an asshole. Too old to be smooth faced and full of lies and too young to have gained any maturity or wisdom, clearly. And poncy boy the seven foot giant elf? The man may look like an untouched by time young thirties, but he’s a pure blood elf. He could be 300 years old for all Evie knows and she’s only partially certain the old man doesn’t have quite so many years under his belt. Evie finds herself assessing Roshan once more, trying to determine his age.

“I thought you were 32?” Evie asks.

“Yes, but you keep calling me old one, so I might as well accept it.”

“There’s just something about you,” Emet adds, “You must have an old soul or something.”

“I have never heard that one, thank you,” Roshan says with such a deadpan expression, Evie can’t tell if that’s sarcasm.

The group, all wishing in their own way for a bed and some sort of hot meal continue along the muddy footpath with less and less motivation to bother. How many more trees with 43 tallies will they pass? How many more cryptic signs carved in bark with no sun or hint of where or when the hells any of them are?

Evie hangs her head with a dramatic sigh, groaning loudly incase anyone has any doubt about how done she is with this endless day, when she stops in her tracks. They’ve been walking this muddy foot path since Roshan decided with his magic feather that this was the way to go, but Evie never really gave the path any kind of investigation. Why would she? A path is a path right? Unless the path is worn by only one person.

She stares into the mud, hoping she is wrong. But whether she looks behind where they’ve walked or ahead where they’ve not yet trampled some of the tracks, it is the same.

“I’m starting to get a bad feeling, guys.”

“You are only starting?” Roshan asks.

“No, a new bad feeling.”

“Ohhh.”

“I mean I’m not the smartest but other than ours, I’m not seeing any tracks that were made by more than one person,” she points at the hoof prints, “and one horse.”

Evie squats down on her thick platform heels, fingers tracing above the footprints that came before theirs and the ones that lead further beyond, “This path was made by one man. Look, these are the same shoes over and over.” Her finger finds hoof prints next, “And this is the same horse. The horseshoe has that knick in the metal in every track.”

Emet seems to make the connection first as she lays out the points. The deadman and horse made this path, wore it into existence with endless repetition. Forty-three times, Evie would hazard to guess. Forty-three times through that draining patch of fog before they finally had nothing left.

Evie stands up from her squat, wiping the mud off her hands, “I don’t know, this seems wrong.”

“But it means we will likely make it back then, no? If it is a circle?” Roshan asks.

“I hope. We should have followed the other path.”

“When we make it back, we will go the other way.”

“If we make it back,” Evie bites back, but a little more gently, “The dead guy didn’t.”

Evrrot slings his bow across his back and steps up to one of the taller trees, kicking his boot into the trunk to test for any softness or give.

“I’m gonna see if I can get a better vantage point.”

Look who’s taking some initiative.

“Do not fall,” Roshan calls out as the tiefling swings himself up to the lowest dead branch and begins scaling the tree with familiarity. Evie half wishes it would break under his weight and drop his ass in the mud. It holds, to her disappointment.

It doesn’t take Evrrot long before he reaches the higher canopy, the tree full of easy branches to scale and most of them still strong enough to support his weight—unfortunately. A few close calls as weaker dead boughs snap beneath him, but always another branch not far from hand.

Balancing himself against the thinner and weaker boughs near the top of the tree, Evrrot carefully stands above the canopy.

“Well that’s fucked,” Evrrot calls down.

“What?” Evie calls up.

“There’s nothing. It’s just fucking fog everywhere.”

Evrrot calls out his view. All around him, a sea of endless tangled branches pierce the fog like thorns. And behind, where that wall of vampiric fog tried to sap them of what little energy they have left, a massive roiling pillar of white climbing endlessly into the overcast skies still stubbornly caught somewhere between night and day. Seems there is no escape from that impenetrable fog. Even from above.

He carefully, if a bit angrily, makes his way back to the ground. If there’s any sort of settlement in this place, the fog hides it well. They have no choice but to follow whatever damn path they can find. Roshan is quiet as Evrrot explains the situation, closing his eyes a moment as he grasps that burnished sun once more in his calloused hands and whispers something beneath his breath. Evie’s sharp ears only catch the last word, “Are you there?” Whatever he is seeking, Evie knows he did not find it. The old man’s shoulders droop almost imperceptibly.

“Does he typically answer?” Emet asks softly.

“I usually feel his warmth. Now there is only cold.”

He nods as though expecting as much, “That must be the way of gods.”

Roshan’s eyes are dawnsteel.

“Not this one.”

Emet quietly assesses him, perhaps seeking a weak point to exploit. Perhaps looking for any waver in his conviction, but finds none and keeps his silence.

With nowhere left to go, they press on to follow the arrows in the hopes that they will cross the abandoned wagon trail once more.

Several minutes and several more 43 tallied trees pass before all breathe a hesitant sigh of relief. There, ahead of them, the lonely wagon trail that started them in these misty lands cuts across the deadman’s path. But that relief is quickly overshadowed.

The deadman—once still and rotting, nothing more than a feast for crows—is gone.

#dark fantasy #gothic fantasy #gothic fiction #curse of strahd #barovia #d&d campaign #dnd campaign #vampire #vampire fiction #ongoing fic #fantasy fiction #creative writing #fiction writing #my fiction #adventure fiction #writers on tumblr #writeblr #my writing #Tales of No One

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rhokisb · 2 years

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DnD Universe Wipe

So we gone done fucked up.

All the characters that our group plays under our other DM (not me) exist within one universe, called Weyard. We didn't always know that but eventually it became apparent that our alternative characters were crossing paths with our mains, which was a fun development, right?

Wrong.

So, REWIND:

Two weeks ago, our main campaign (Weyard for the other DM) reached a very important point in our campaign. We were tasked with trying to bring another member back from the dead. This other member was someone we met while doing a one-shot WITH OUR MAIN CHARACTERS, but who did not travel with us after this point. So we all knew and remembered him, but hadn't seen him in awhile. We learned of his death, and confirmed that he was dead prior to being tasked with bringing him back.

We were given the chance to bring him back through a complicated ritual which would grant us one of 2 remaining wishes that exist in the universe. This was a once in a lifetime chance, and we were

EXTENSIVELY. WARNED. THAT. THIS. WAS. A. ONE. AND. DONE.

So we get to the area where we could do the ritual, three of our party members go forth to try and do the trials to get the wish. They succeed. Again:

WE. WERE. WARNED. EXTENSIVELY. THAT. THIS. WAS. OUR. ONLY. CHANCE.

To make our wish come true everyone in the party would have to wish for the same thing. "The effort given will be reflected in the reward".

Well fuck me sideways, you wanna know how that went?

In our party of 8, 3 of the people did not wish for the same thing as the rest of the group.

Wished for a fucking Dragon. For no reason. Absolutely none. Without anyone else wishing for it he never would have gotten it. He did not wish for it outloud, so none of us knew what he wished for in-game, only that he wouldn't tell us what he wished for.

Wished for her dead kids back. Understandable and it was a fear we all had when the rules were explained to us. Our group trusted her to do the right thing, and she failed.

Wished that "his friend's wishes come true".

The rest of us put our hearts and souls into wishing the dearly departed back.

Flash forward to this weekend:

We are all still at the ritual spot, immediately my character (Orlogg) and his best friend (Dante) picked up the gnome (Passmae, who wished for the Dragon) and beat the shit out of him because he wouldn't tell us what he wished for. He's been sketchy at other moments too, and this was the final straw. We then confirmed with the dude running the trials that Passmae was ONE of the reasons we failed. We beat the shit out of him. He's been unconscious for 5 in-game days because every time he moves we beat him unconscious again (partly because, OF COURSE THE DUDE WHO RUINED THE CAMPAIGN COULDN'T MAKE THE SESSION).

Vestare, who wished for her children back, we...had words with. Words along the lines of:

"We're not mad, we're hurt that you literally act like you're alone all the time. You're not alone. We've been together through this entire bullshit saga of events since we first met. If you ASKED we would all go to the ends of the world to get your kids back. You only need to say the word. None of us, including you, can do this alone. Believe in us like we believe in you."

Dank, who had a vague wish, was ignored completely (also not at session).

Orlogg (me) decided to take some hallucinogens at the ritual site and was greeted by Fate and Destiny. Not the gods of fate and destiny, but the actual incarnations of all of Fate and all of Destiny. Beholden to none. Orlogg begged them for assistance and was told that,

F&D: "Every time we meddle, we make things worse. Every time we help, your odds of success diminish. There's a balance that needs to be maintained, and every time we tip it, it is never in our favour."

O: "What can I give to even the scales?"

F&D: "You're not the only one who will have to give. Soon, someone very close to you, will be in dire need of help and when that day comes, you two will both have to give, and HE will never be the same."

O: "Will that help? Or will it just keep things even?"

F&D: "Tough to say. It will help bring the departed back."

O: "Alright, I'll keep that in mind. Before I go, I just want to say thanks for everything you've already done." *Motions to fist bump them*

F&D: *One of them reaches to fist bump and as our knuckles touch they whisper* "I'm sorry."

Which was cryptic and terrifying because Orlogg cares deeply about his best friend Dante, so clearly they meant his BFF.

Well as we traveled to return and report our failure to a Cleric of Life, Dante just starts whipping out a skull that he's had hidden for months (in-game) in his backpack and starts talking to it, and can't seem to stop holding it. We all remember the player picking up the skull, but none of our characters saw it when it happened months ago.

We get back to the temple and the man who gave us the chance, and he loses his shit. Basically just tells us:

"You're the reason that the world will end. There is no hope. You've stolen everything from every single person, creature, whatever in this world. It's over. We've lost. We wasted one of the very precious last wishes for the world. And that failure spells doom for the entire world."

The skull begins talking. It is the skull of Memnoch--one of the side characters of Dante who died during a different campaign (which is why Dante picked up to begin with, cause the player meta knew that was her skull). Memnoch tells Dante that there is one more last chance, and explains how to do it.

This includes that ONLY the people who can be "trusted" can accompany Dante on this quest. The party must be split and this "event" will happen elsewhere. So the five of us who wished properly have left the rest of the group on a separate secret mission.

THEN, the DM informed us that failure during this quest will result in the entire universe being wiped. That means our main characters, our side characters, everything that isn't my Dragonlance campaign: gone. Everyone is dead. Including the OTHER GROUP OF PLAYERS who is also playing in our universe on the same quest that we are supposed to link up with for the end BBEG fight (I think its over 15 characters vs. the BBEG).

So there were tears and now the five of us have been having massive anxiety over this upcoming secret session to save the universe. Not the world. The universe.

(THIS LAST CHANCE ONLY HAPPENED BECAUSE THE WOMAN WHO PLAYS DANTE MESSAGED THE DM OUTSIDE OF GAME TWO WEEKDS AGO AND ASKED IF THERE WAS ANYTHING DANTE COULD DO TO FIX THE FAILURE AFTER WE ALL CLEARLY KNEW WE FAILED BECAUSE SOMEONE DECIDED TO WISH FOR A FUCKING DRAGON! HIS ORIGINAL INTENT WAS WE WERE ALL GOING TO KEEP PLAYING FOR MONTHS AND THEN THE END FIGHT WE WOULD JUST...LOSE. WE LOST 3 MONTHS AGO WHEN WE FAILED ON THE MOUNTAIN. BUT HE'S DECIDED TO GIVE US ONE LAST CHANCE WITHOUT THE PROBLEM PLAYER.)

Our DM everyone. Master of emotional devastation.

To find out what happened next, check the links below:

Dante's No Good Horrible Awful Bad Vacation (AKA: The Universe Wipe) Part 1

Dante's No Good Horrible Awful Bad Vacation (AKA: The Universe Wipe) Part 2

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utilitycaster · 2 years

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Please elaborate on Laudna's deal if you're up to it. I'm not sure I agree that her whole deal doesn't make sense but at least what you've said so far has made sense. Regardless, I always like seeing your thoughts on ideas because you come at things from angles I don't even think about.

Thank you anon!

in reference to this post:

I've been pretty open in saying that I feel this campaign's character creation process was lacking in some way in general, but Laudna has increasingly felt half-baked to me. I know Marisha talked about wanting to create a creepy character, and she has! But like, beyond "she's creepy...Delilah is here" it just feels like she's not entirely realized, on several levels.

This gets pretty long and quite critical of Laudna's build so I'm putting it below a cut.

Narrative

What we know is that Laudna had a normal-ish childhood on the outskirts of Whitestone, though she was kind of weird and had some strange innate magic of her own. She was then called to the castle by the Briarwoods during the occupation of Whitestone, Delilah did some soul-tethering stuff during the dinner, killed Laudna and made her look vaguely like Vex for a Sun Tree effigy, and Laudna then woke up shortly afterward in her Hollow One form. All of this roughly tracks, though see the Mechanics section below for some issues.

Narrative

It's the next 30 years that doesn't make sense. She wakes up as a Hollow One and Whitestone is in the midst of a huge attack, so sure, I get her running away. I get spending that first year just traumatized and confused, and then not knowing what to do when Delilah shows up in her head. But then...30 years is a long fucking time, and I have the following questions:

Why didn't she make any attempts to learn what's going on with Delilah? She seems to be just starting to look into this in early Campaign 3.

Why was she chased out of town? Again, it makes no sense in this world, based on how people have responded to Laudna in the campaign and based on the general existence of magic and various races, for them to do anything but say 'hmmm that cabin on the outskirts has a weirdo in it, best stay away'.

Why, after a few times, did she not go to a city? Not to be flip about it but she'd honestly get double-takes in NYC but probably not triple-takes, and magic isn't even real in our world.

How did she get to Marquet, if that's a difficult and expensive journey and she's constantly being run out of town for the mere act of existing?

What has she been doing other than getting kicked out, vaguely wandering, and making Pate? like, Fearne and Chetney also have pretty long backstories but there is a weight there. I can't think of a single anecdote Laudna has brought up from those 3 decades; even her flashback at the top of episode 34 was not, like everyone else's, about new information, but just a reiteration of the Delilah story we already knew. And sure, maybe she spent most of it profoundly depressed but that raises more questions: how did she keep on surviving if it was that hard and she didn't care? How did she get to Gelvaan?

What have she and Imogen been doing for two years if Imogen doesn't really understand who Delilah was, Laudna doesn't seem to understand Imogen's discomfort with her own powers, and neither of them has learned anything about their abilities prior to the campaign? Literally, what the fuck have they been talking about over the campfire for TWO FUCKING YEARS with no one else? Why do they feel like they know each other less than Molly and Yasha, Fjord and Jester, Caleb and Veth, or even FCG and Ashton?

Like...there's just no drive. There's no story. People keep saying she has so much to live for but honestly, other than "maybe have a relationship with Imogen" what does she have? What are her goals? What are her dreams? I could tell you what everyone else in the party is doing both in terms of a character arc and in terms of what they are materially trying to achieve and for Laudna...I got nothing. Genuinely, if you are not sold on "Marisha plays this character" and "I think Laura and Marisha's characters should date" on their own - and it's fine if you are, but personally, I am not sold on those alone- there's no reason to care. I mean, she's fun! There have been a lot of good moments! Marisha does a great job describing the creepiness! But in terms of emotional investment as a character in an ongoing story, I don't know what there is. Not to sound like Percy but this is D&D. Half the party has a deeply traumatic and sympathetic backstory. Why is Laudna special? I've missed Marisha being at the table, but truthfully, I haven't missed Laudna one bit, and every single other Marisha character in stories set in Exandria (Keyleth, Beau, Patia, and even Hazel) has felt easily ten times more real.

So: I'm actually genuinely interested if someone can give me the elevator pitch on Laudna because I found Bells Hells' platitudes about her to Percy - their inability to give him anything concrete other than "we love her and she's nice" - immensely revealing.

Mechanics (with some narrative as well)

So sorcerer/warlock is considered a decent build; there's a lot of spell overlap but it's dependent on only one stat (Charisma), you can use sorcery points on Eldritch Blast/cast sorcery spells with your fast-recharging warlock spells. It's not the greatest multiclass of all time - all caster multiclasses take something of a hit towards spell progression - but it's not bad. But somehow, Laudna is kind of directionless, again beyond "this spell is creepy". What makes the most sense would be to lean into utility, since Imogen is heavily skewed towards DPS outside of her subclass spells and has a very consistent lightning+psychic theme and Fearne also skews heavily towards damage. We don't have a utility arcane caster. Of course, to be fair, Laudna also doesn't even have 3rd level spells yet so that's a bit of a detriment because taking Dispel Magic, for example, would be really useful, but like, Hold Person and Detect Magic would both be good calls and she has neither. Spider Climb and Feather Fall are good, as is Wither and Bloom and Bane, but why have Silent Image except to be creepy? Why take Hellish Rebuke when you literally have like 10 cantrips to do damage with? Instead of taking Blur, Mirror Image, and Shield, why not take Mage Armor, which lasts 8 hours without concentration and which would give her a 15 AC instead of 13? I know this seems nitpicky but given that the story aspects of the character aren't working it puts the mechanics rather more in focus and they are weirdly off.

Then there's the fact that she's a warlock. I am truly baffled by Marisha's statement that she didn't intend to lean into the narrative aspects of warlock or take warlock levels because that's the whole fucking deal with warlock. It's the same concept as why FCG was irritating to me for a long time due to the total lack of a source of powers. And for what it's worth it's fine if you want to back out of the pact - that is the narrative aspect of being a warlock, after all - but that circles back to "why have you dragged Delilah Briarwood back into this if you're not going to commit hard."

Which brings me to the next part: if Laudna had innate magical abilities and was established to have them prior to ...shouldn't she be a sorcerer base? Sure, warlock gives you the d8 initial maxed out hit die and Wis save proficiency and better proficiencies, but story-wise, this makes no sense, and it's made worse by the unimpressiveness of the build.

So yeah, as I said in the tags...Laudna is fun when she's there but I know Marisha could absolutely make a character who's much, much better. Like, puns fully intended, just as FCG has increasingly felt more fleshed out, Laudna has increasingly felt more hollow.

#answered #Anonymous #critical role spoilers #long post

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 2 years

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i have finally found the time to watch through the entirety of a court of fey and flowers and it has left me clawing the walls

a few thoughts, here and below the cut:

aabria is honestly one of my favorite gms to watch work. like, literally watch, i am 95% podcasts for my actual play media, but the visual elements of her games (esp. her npc facial expressions & acting choices) are so compelling. every damn time wuvvy looked at rue i died.

never not gonna be impressed with how smoothly this team integrated dnd combat & magic & skill checks with the good society framework to make a compelling, weighty, primarily social game. the unique tokens! (the significance to burning them!) the many pvp insight/deception checks over sighs and glances!!

brennan being an eternal gm is a crime, hob is The Most Character

like, picture me taking that character art of hob, printing it out, folding it up, and eating it. love him.

he’s a self-loathing emotionally obtuse plothound who claims to be bad with words but gives The Most Austen-style heart-wrenchingly vulnerable speeches. who else is doing it like him.

(seriously, if you’ve got regency media recs with hob-alike MCs I Want Them)

i am imagining some bonkers child creation magic — like, cabbage patch If You Want One It Will Grow stuff, genetics and gametes need not be involved stuff — that gives hob and rue an enormous passel of kids to love on and Treat Right, including at least one Owl With Bug Wings and two or three Literal Bears.

also picturing atla level confusion when the first one of those bears comes along. “just a bear?” “not a bugbear, not an owlbear, not a bugowlbear. just a bear.” “…this kid is weird.” “yeah, but we’re gonna love them like mad anyway right?” “oh yeah, of course, i’m just saying!”

deeply shocked andhera was able to sit through that detect thoughts at the tailor shop scene without blurting out SOMETHING, given his tendencies towards blurting out everything in other moments.

but like. imagine.

hob: the k stands for knickolas!!

rue: i love him.

andhera: oh shit, for real?! you love him for real??

disastrous. andhera fails to keep his mouth shut, four wounded two dead. (rip buddy, you were a real one)

otoh. now i’m imagining a fun little trivia game at rue’s nearlywed shower with questions like “where did they meet” and “who asked whom” that give them an excuse to retell all of these cute stories about their relationship, and one question is “when did rue first realize they loved hob?”

the answer is supposed to be after they danced all night at the masquerade, because rue thinks it’s fine to lie a little for the Romance of it all, but andhera’s like “oh, i remember that! it was when hob told them what the k in k.p. stands for!”

and he’s very :D satisfied with himself for winning his team a point! not noticing rue and hob’s very complex face journeys as they silently have a Conversation about this.

most shocking moment for me, a person who saw a fair number of acofaf gifs on my dash last fall: chirp marriage & child reveal, no question. the cast around her reacting is also very good, but the twist in itself was honestly so unexpected! and it works fantastically to give the lords of the wing motivation to join the larger plot on Our Heroes’ Side, i thought that was very smartly done.

and last but not least, a fun fact!

I did not realize this until the ap episode where omar confirmed ace andhera, but my first dnd character was basically a mash-up of andhera and rue.

like. they were an ace paladin poorly faking charm and coolness, using a normative appearance (“imagine a combination of chris hemsworth and chris evans”) as a facade a scared, nonnormative creature hid behind— unfortunately my BINX-alike PC friend died early in the campaign, and the plot took priority over character exploration. but still: same hat!

also: me now, looking back at that character: [miranda cosgrove ‘interesting’ meme with the nonbinary flag superimposed]

#a court of fey and flowers #dimension 20 #brb off to sort the hob/rue tag by kudos and then by bookmarks and then by word count #i want a thousand different canon divergence alternate love confessions…#mundane and/or human AUs where the Duty vs Love tensions are shifted a little but still MATTER #BINX found family-ing every damn person she likes even a little into a room of their own in her house…#pls send fic recs #and asks! send me your thoughts!! if anyone is still out there thinking acofaf thoughts this many months after that season ended #i realize i am Late to the Game but that’s just how i am with stuff #dropout

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many-thoughts-little-memory · 2 years

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a bit about tallis

this is the backstory of Tallis de Lacy, a tiefling fighter, my current d&d character (as of November 2022). i always enjoy reading other character backstories, so i wanted to start sharing mine too!

typically my backstories follow a structure of childhood to adolescence to young adulthood to adulthood and so on. occasionally i will add some extra tidbits at the end, but mostly i try to include everything in one go. later i’ll ‘respond’ to this story with my own criticisms and praises (tagged roses&thorns), but would love to hear any input you may have too!

note: i have edited out specific references to the other player character and some game/campaign specific details, as i don’t have their permission to share and don’t want to step on any toes. everything else named in the story is something i created and has been (or will be) included in our game.

Tallis was raised by a village - not literally, but in the sense that when you have 4 families living in one building, everyone just looks out for each other. Tallis’ parents loved her dearly, but they struggled to maintain a steady income due to her mother’s health and father's disability. As such the other families in the building would step up and help out when they could, but they weren’t exactly well off either.

Tallis and her friends, were a part of a group children who were recruited by some teenagers to panhandle for them out in the popular/tourist areas of the city - the older kids would let them keep a small portion of their takings if they made enough. Tallis would take the coin she had ‘earned’ and bring it back home, much to the dismay of her parents, who didn’t want the burden of providing for the family to fall on her shoulders. They wanted her to go to school and make an honest living, to have a hope filled and bright future. Wanting to make her family happy, Tallis would go to school in earnest and honestly try her best. On the occasions when she would be asked to panhandle, she would secretly sneak the coins into her parents (and the other families) purses.

As she grew up and her parent’s conditions worsened, Tallis would shirk school more and more in favour of panhandling and running errands for anyone who would pay her. She started working regularly for one particular faction, the Onyx Crown, who ran all their business (legal and illegal) out of a tavern (the Bumpy Fiddler). At first she was exclusively employed to take on the clean/legal jobs (waiting tables, cleaning, running messages for guests, etc.). But as the faction began to trust her more, she would start to be asked to do some jobs on the down low (running packages, acting as a lookout, etc.). Around the age of 15, Tallis’ mother passed away. This was devastating for Tallis and her father not only emotionally, but also financially, as her mother had been earning most of their money as of late. It was around this time Tallis officially stopped going to school and working exclusively for the faction.

The Onyx Crown adopted her into their ranks (low ranks, but she was able to use their name/influence if need be), and she was trusted with jobs that were more dangerous but more profitable. Her friends would poke fun at Tallis, claiming she’s “going corporate” working for an established gang, rather than joining them in forming a crew of their own. Tallis stood by her decision, as the work and money were more consistent, but on occasion would join up with her friends if they needed some extra muscle or a lookout. As she got more ingrained with the underbelly of the city, she did occasionally get into trouble with the local law enforcement and rival factions. During her scuffles with rivals, she found herself coming into some surprising strength, able to handle herself physically, even when she appeared to be at a disadvantage. The jobs she did for the Crown also had her coming into “wealth” unlike she has experienced before. Tallis’ inexperience with life overall, led her to abusing her newfound strength and money via fighting and gambling.

After a particularly rough run of bad luck, Tallis found herself in more trouble and deeper debt. She went to one of the heads of the Onyx Crown, Jezu, who directed her to help ‘escort’ some people out of town. This would achieve a couple goals - 1. she would be out of the city for a couple days, so the heat around her would die down and 2. It would earn her some money to help her pay off a bit of the debt. Sometimes it was a matter of transporting ‘packages’, other times she would be escorting people. Typically the people she was traveling with were criminals trying to avoid prosecution (coming to CITY to avoid the laws of other cities/regions or vice versa). Multiple times she was smuggling her friend (and sometimes the rest of his crew) in and out of the city. Her route(s) usually just took her to the first checkpoint out of the city, leaving goods/people to be taken further and picking up anything/anyone to be brought back to CITY. These were usually 8 - 10 hour round trips depending on which route she was taking and who/what she was smuggling. Occasionally (depending on how much trouble she was in or how much money she needed) she would take the routes further, spending an entire day or two travelling.

Her most recent job was to meet up with her friend and his crew, to smuggle/escort them back to CITY. But he was the only one to show up, saying something had gone wrong, he was separated from the crew, and he is in a ton of trouble. Tallis, not wanting one of her friends to get in trouble for something that wasn't their fault, decides to stick by his side until everything is cleared up (or the problem is “taken care of”, whichever comes first and pays more).

the campaign begins with tallis and her friend meeting the rest of the party as they are travelling away from CITY with the goal for them to figure out how to clear her friend’s name and what happened to the rest of the crew..

this character is currently ‘in play’, so i can’t really change much of the story at this point... but i would love to hear any constructive criticism or advice you have!

#tallisdelacy #oc #d&d character #backstory #dnd beyond #open for suggestions

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theworldbrewery · 3 years

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ever done a mini-campaign?

When most of us think of a ttrpg campaign, it’s fair to say that long-form campaigns are the prototype. Playing with the same group of players in the same world, following multiple plotlines for a very. long. time. The iconic examples of The Adventure Zone Balance, Critical Role, and Rusty Quill Gaming span out-of-game years in the making. And plenty of folks hold those up as the ideal way to play the game.

Have you ever considered...not doing that?

A short-form ttrpg game might be for you and your friends if your schedules are tight; playing a one-off, single-session game may work better when you never know when you’ll have the chance to play again. Some ttrpgs are also simply designed for shorter gameplay, with natural breaks built in where you can end a campaign.

But at times, you still want the character arc, the delight of building character relationships, and the sense of growing tension across multiple “episodes.” Or maybe you prefer the D&D or Pathfinder system and don’t want to learn to play games that have shorter timelines built in.

Enter: the mini-campaign. Spanning anywhere from five to twenty sessions, it can last as long as you and your GM want. Examples include Dimension 20′s games, as well as the Exandria Unlimited series by Critical Role.

To run a mini-campaign, all the GM needs is a few simple elements.

A contained setting.

A problem endemic to the setting.

An antagonist involved in making the problem worse or better.

A defined end-point that will occur in the near-ish future.

For the first, just come up with a specific setting as normal, then have a pretext to keep the party from leaving for too long.

A simple setting could be a single town, sizable enough that the PCs don’t know literally everyone, and the pretext could be the PCs lack the resources to pay for travel. Or they have homes and family ties in town that they don’t want to leave behind.

More complicated settings could be a snowy mountain range where the PCs are stranded after a zeppelin crash, a tropical island resort where they are on vacation, or a polar research station. The world is truly your oyster here, and the more wildly specific your setting, the more wild the storyline can become.

For the second element, a problem endemic to the setting simply means that this place has a problem that is unique in some way. If I leave the tropical resort, the problem likely will not follow me. For example, the tropical island could have issues with their power grid that lead to frequent blackouts, ruining countless vacations. It’s important to understand that the problem doesn’t have to be this major, systemic issue like speciesism or climate change.

The third element, an antagonist involved somehow, means that either the antagonist wants to deliberately make the problem worse for their own gain, or who thinks they’re solving the problem but it has extremely bad consequences in another way.

In a polar research station setting where the problem is that they’ve lost contact with the outside world, one researcher might be trying to kill their coworkers, having accidentally made contact with a chthonic being from the Fantasy Arctic. The researcher thinks they’re saving the world by preventing the group from drilling any deeper and freeing the being--but it’s only chthonic madness encouraging the violence. In reality, the survivors are the world’s best chance at keeping the entity from rising.

In our tropical resort setting, perhaps a scheming tourist is trying to take advantage of the outages to revenge himself upon his annoying in-laws, frame the PCs for the murders, and sue the resort for emotional damages.

The fourth element makes this into a mini-campaign. The story has a win condition and a lose condition, and the campaign ends with one of those two options. In the tropical resort, catching the murderous tourist and clearing the PCs’ names is the end of the story--or failing to do so, and being arrested or murdered themselves. In the polar research station, either the PCs stop the rise of a chthonic entity or they don’t. Win and Lose.

Essentially, the whole campaign has a ticking clock attached to it. Waiting too long to act means the bomb goes off. Failing means the bomb goes off. And you can’t drag the story out for too long, because one way or another, that bomb has to be dealt with.

Final Notes:

A mini-campaign is best run at lower levels--anywhere from 3rd to 9th, in my opinion. Any higher and the PCs have too much power. Any lower and they’re functional disasters. I encourage a loose level-up structure based on milestone leveling rather than XP, since mini-campaigns don’t have the structure for several high-XP boss battles.

You can add additional plot threads and antagonists as much as you like, but keep in mind they will make your campaign longer accordingly.

Let the campaign be silly, or break out of the usual genre of swords-and-sorcery. Having a secondary genre, like a murder mystery or cosmic horror, can really make a mini-campaign stand out to your players.

You must run a session zero. This is nonnegotiable. The reason? You will need to establish the relationships between PCs before starting, or they will spend too long in the “getting to know you” phase. It’s also just more fun for your players to have established grudges, inside jokes, and so on. Additionally, since you will not be running a sandbox campaign here, you will need to be sure your PCs are buying in to the setting’s premise.

What I mean by that is, if the party is at a tropical resort, they most likely are there because they like tropical vacations (or got dragged along by someone who does). A PC who isn’t built for a world where they take tropical vacations, or who has no vested interest in enjoying their vacation, is unlikely to care about someone else ruining their vacation. Some things need to be established pre-game to make sure everyone is on the same page. I recommend you also discuss the genre: if it’s going to be a murder mystery, the players shouldn’t act like it’s a slash-and-burn total war environment, or what’s the entire point? Good players will respect the genre they’re told they’re playing in, and avoid being too genre-savvy or too genre-stupid.

#d&d #dnd #dungeons and dragons #pathfinder #ttrpgs #minicampaigns #dm tips #setting #conflict

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feveredreams · 2 years

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c3e23: the power of the DM in D&D, or why we are all Laudna right now

last night's episode of critical role really struck home for me how unique D&D is as a format for media, and how the format of Storyteller and Characters draws the audience even further into a story than other forms of media might. It's really beautiful and fucking amazing if you think about it. The potential as a medium to engage the audience while building a world is just unlike anything else.

The biggest thing is this: the power of a DM to make the audience feel exactly what the characters are feeling. Okay, but isn't that the point of a storyteller, you ask? To connect the audience and the story? Sure! But the format of D&D, especially watching D&D, immerses you into a character's mindset like nothing else. Our implicit trust in the DM as our storyteller means we are susceptible to some pretty cool emotional tricks, as evidenced by the end of this episode.

[spoilers for ep 23 of critical role campaign 3 ahead]

Imogen and Laudna are talking, an emotional conversation about Imogen's recent state of mind and Laudna's concern for her. It revolves around the strange pink rock they'd picked up earlier, a rock that seems to draw Imogen to it with promises of safety and comfort. We, as the audience, are aware that there's something not Quite Right with the rock and its power over Imogen. As Laudna continues to ask about it, Matt interjects: each time she pushes a little further, Laudna feels a pulse of...something, something urging her to look at the rock, to examine it further. This happens three times, each time more insistent.

At first I interpret this urge as some sort of...arcane instinct, perhaps. An expression of Laudna's concern for Imogen's well-being, or some part of Imogen not under the spell of the rock reaching out, seeking escape. As I watched, I was impatient for Laudna to listen to this urge. I wanted her to help Imogen, free her from whatever potentially malicious influence was impairing her judgment.

And then Laudna finally convinced Imogen to hand over the rock. She took it in her hand, and Matt's voice turned into the sinister, cruel drawl of Delilah Briarwood.

Delilah, of course, fucks everything up and breaks the rock, draining it of its power and straining Laudna and Imogen's relationship. Especially after Laudna promises wholeheartedly to not do anything to the rock without asking Imogen, the act is a betrayal. Imogen's quiet, heartbroken, "You lied." is just the cherry on top (I could wax poetic about Laura Bailey's acting in this scene, but this post is already getting long).

Laudna is, understandably, horrified. This is our first time seeing true conflict between her and Delilah, and boy is it juicy. Not only is she realizing that Delilah has more power over her than she thought, but her words from literal minutes earlier are coming back to haunt her: where does she end, and where does Delilah begin? Was it her concern and care for Imogen that compelled her to take the rock, or was that all Delilah? Can she trust her own mind, her own feelings?

The great thing about D&D is that we are right there with her. The essential format of D&D is that you trust the storyteller, because they create the story and all you experience in it. We trust Matt implicitly. That's why I was rooting for Laudna to hurry up and investigate that rock, dammit! That's why after the episode, even Marisha said, "He was telling me to do it!" When Matt describes these pulsing urges to take the rock, it was Matt telling us something Laudna felt. We trust Matt. He guides us through this world! His word is law.

And then it turns out his word wasn't his word at all. It was Delilah fucking Briarwood. We are thinking oh shit, what can we trust? at the same moment Laudna is thinking oh shit, what can I trust? Which thoughts are mine and which are hers? As we are questioning our perception of the world, so is she.

That's the unique power of the DM when there's an audience watching your campaign, and that's also just the fucking genius of Matt Mercer. The function of the DM as both voice of god and voice of everything else just sets up these really potent emotional moments that resonate just as strongly for the audience as they do the characters. As the story unfolds, we are just as immersed as any of the players at the table. And I think that's super neat!

#can you tell that i'm also just SCREAMING at the angst this entails?#holy crap do I have thoughts about this.#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr #cr spoilers #laudna #imogen temult #imodna #D&D #cr analysis #critical role analysis #long post

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enderspawn · 3 years

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hello I'm a critrole and taz enjoyer and I'm looking to get into jrwi but . fanart looks Angsty so I'm Unsure (i know it's hypocrisy coming from a cr fan but .) jsbxjdbchdc I'm completely geniuenly asking - what do you like about jrwi? what's the premise like? You seem to really like the series, so please rant about it 🙏 (only if you want to ofc!)

I absolutely will, I will take any excuse to rant abt jrwi and try to get ppl to watch it BDKABDN

so to cover the basics jrwi, aka Just Roll With It, is a dnd show! featuring Grizzly, Bizly, Condifiction, and Slimecicle. their current main campaign (and the one I post abt most often) is JRWI: Riptide!

there are other campaigns, past and present, such as Prime Defenders (which is Patreon exclusive, with the first 5 episodes released for free this December), Convergence, The Fated Five/The Original Campaign, and more! They’re all also considered JRWI, but I’ve not rlly touched any of them beyond a bit of PD so I won’t probably be talking abt them (they’re here more for comprehensiveness and if you stumble across content labeled jrwi you don’t know, it’s probably one of these!)

Riptide is a pirate-based D&D campaign, following our main crew, comprised of: Chip, the human rogue, who is captain of the crew and the biggest bastard of the sea, Jay Ferin, a human ranger, who acts as the ship’s navigator and is known for her accuracy in shooting (as well as a few secrets or she might be hiding), and Gillion Tidestrider, (Champion of the Undersea, Hero of the Deep), who is a homebrew paladin/sorcerer multi class triton, who is very new to the whole “life above the sea” thing, let alone the whole “humans” thing, but works through it by strictly following his morals and holding honor above all else in pursuit of his destiny.

The campaign ACTUALLY starts with… none of these characters, but instead a prequel oneshot set 10 years before the events of Riptide, which explores the legend of the Blackrose Pirates. You might even recognize some familiar names!

After the Blackrose Oneshot, you can watch through the main campaign here!

To avoid this being a Painfully Long post, the rest will be under a cut

So for 1: Angst shouldn’t be an issue here tbh. It’s very much a TAZ-esqe campaign in tone, with majority being adventurous and funny and light hearted…. Until it absolutely punches you with feels. A lot of it is very character-based storytelling (which I rlly enjoy) but it means your mileage depends on how much you invest yourself in those characters. There’s plenty of bits you can look deeper into for angst or character building, but if you don’t *want to* majority of the time it’s fast paced enough to move on from.

if you’re wondering how competent of pirates they are; they didn’t even have a MAP until abt episode 40ish and have ended adventures giving away money on more than one occasion. They’re bad at it <3

One of the things that IMMEDIATELY drew me to jrwi and made me really enjoy it was the DMing style. I think the first episode of Riptide is, frankly, a masterclass in “will I enjoy how this game is run?”. You will know if you’ll enjoy the show or not by the end of episode 1. They don’t want to big themselves down in rules and play much more by rule of cool over all else. SHOULD [x] work like that? Probably not, but it’s cool, so it does now! It’s all abt keeping up that lighter tone and fast enjoyable pace so things don’t get bogged down. The players are willing to make objectively bad outcomes or choices for their characters (possibly worse than the DM would) just because it would be funny.

They do a LOT to flavor the combat to make it engaging to listen to, which is massive for myself: even in TAZ, I’d tune out when initiative rolled, but they add in a lot of flavor, character, and humor into their combat which keeps it engaging for me.

The DM, Grizzly, is great at working with what the players give him and running with it. Whether that be integrating backstory stuff, to *literally changing an entire planned arc* to be more music based after the players decided they wanted to form a band as a goof (which it originally WASNT apparently, but without knowing that I literally could not tell).

ALSO THEY LITERALLY MADE A WHOLE ASS ORIGINAL SONF FOR THEIR FICTIONAL BAND TO PLAY AND I FEEL LIKE THAT DOESNT GET TOUCHED ON ENOUGH

All the players (though I notice it most with Bizly and Grizzly) are great at playing their characters, but especially VISUALLY. Like physically looking at sight lines or having this noticeable change in posture/gesture when in character vs not. As well as some (imo) stellar voice acting moments, it’s just (chefs kiss). Like… don’t get me wrong here, this ain’t “professional actors/voice actors” level of good, but it’s damn nice for your average Joe dnd podcast and helps incentivize watching on YT (for me).

Another big thing for me is the length: episodes average around and hour and a half or so, making it more accessible for my poor attention span (especially with a midroll you can pause in). I’ve never gotten into Crit Role SPECIFICALLY bc of the length of each episode, but JRWI works well for me.

In the end though, like I said, I love characters and it’s (emotionally) a very character driven story. There’s plenty of fantastic adventures and puzzles and the like for people who care more for plot than characters, but the characters are the reason I come back every time. You start with these basic entertaining people then they start to show other sides of them and gain this depth I fucking LOVE. My personal favorite is Chip, but Gill and Jay are both so intruiging as well with some common themes/issues while also being incredibly different. I’m. Trying not to spoil anything here but I just….. yeah <3

ALSO while it’s patreon exclusive and thus requires 10+ a month to access, they have a series called Just Rolled With It where they talk abt the session they just played (what they liked, what they didn’t, theories, more in depth behind the scenes n character shit, etc). And like… the best part of PLAYING dnd is sitting around w your friends geeking out abt your campaign!! Talkin abt ur personal scrunglys!! and now I can do that parasocially with a podcast!!!

If you want a sample taste, I’ll link down below some spoiler-ish free* animatics of bits I enjoy you can watch to get a feel as well

*they’re bits/encounters from later episodes/arcs than the first few, but shouldn’t be any kind of plot spoiler or a major issue.

https://youtu.be/XANB-fCFUAI

https://youtu.be/9M-qhLlt5oI

https://youtu.be/z8Y3W1kyhaM

https://youtu.be/KpyFjbM4SK0

#god I. yeah #all I want is to get other ppl into this series please I am. please HDKADBFJ #jrwi #og post #answered #anon

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lunapwrites · 2 years

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so in my one D&D campaign i'm in the party just collectively realized that our one high-elf companion is only 18 (which is a literal fetus in elf years.) and as one we first reacted with abject horror and where are your parents small child and oh no we've been letting him have alcohol and oh no the reason he acts like a drunk toddler is because HE IS LITERALLY A DRUNK TODDLER and then the second reaction was to immediately jump into coparenting mode. we are working out custody arrangements and shifts with the baby leash. having a blast. XD

#lp plays #d&d

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dontmeantobepoliticalbut · 3 years

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The testimony of a key witness in Donald Trump’s first impeachment trial is under new scrutiny by the House Intelligence Committee following a report this week that undercuts the veracity of his claim that he was unaware of a Trump effort to pressure Ukraine into mounting a meritless investigation of Joe Biden.

On Monday, CNN reported new details of a July 2019 call between Rudy Giuliani, then–US special envoy to Ukraine Kurt Volker, and Andriy Yermak, a top aide to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. During that call, Giuliani, then Trump’s personal lawyer, aggressively pressed Ukraine to announce investigations into dubious accusations about Biden and about alleged Ukrainian meddling in the 2016 election. Portions of this conversation have previously been reported by BuzzFeed News and Time, but CNN published the full audio of the 40-minute call. The recording of the conversation contradicts Volker’s sworn testimony to Congress that he never witnessed any attempt on the part of Trump and Giuliani to muscle Ukraine into launching an investigation of Biden, Trump’s possible opponent in the upcoming presidential election.

The discrepancy between Volker’s testimony and the recording of the call has drawn the attention of House Intelligence Committee Chairman Adam Schiff (D-Calif.), who tells Mother Jones that Volker’s assertions to Congress amounted to “a disingenuous revision of history.”

A former aide to the late Sen. John McCain (R-Ariz.) who was appointed ambassador to NATO by George W. Bush, Volker is a foreign policy establishment figure who retains posts at a prominent DC lobbying firm and a think tank. Secretary of State Rex Tillerson picked Volker as a special representative to Ukraine in 2017, a nominally part-time job that overlapped with the duties of then-US Ambassador Maria Yovanovitch, who Trump later fired.

Volker became a key figure in the Trump administration’s 2019 effort, spearheaded by Giuliani, to push Ukraine to investigate alleged corruption relating to Burisma, a Ukrainian energy company where Hunter Biden had once served as a board member. Giuliani particularly wanted Ukrainian prosecutors to announce a probe into flimsy allegations that Biden as vice president had forced the firing of a top Ukrainian prosecutor, Viktor Shokin, to derail a supposed investigation into Burisma. This pressure campaign culminated in the White House holding up almost $400 million in military aide for Ukraine and led to Trump’s first impeachment in December 2019.

Volker claimed in sworn testimony during Trump’s impeachment proceedings that, even as he helped push Ukraine to look into Burisma and corruption, he did not know that those topics related to Joe Biden—and, consequently, he was unaware that he was assisting in the Giuliani-Trump effort to smear a political rival.

“Vice President Biden was never a topic of discussion,” Volker said in an October 3, 2019 deposition before the House Intelligence Committee. He repeated that claim in televised testimony before the committee the following month: “At no time was I aware of or knowingly took part in an effort to urge Ukraine to investigate former Vice President Biden. As you know from the extensive real-time documentation I have provided, Vice President Biden was not a topic of our discussions.”

CNN’s report on that July 2019 phone call shows that Volker’s account was not true. Giuliani repeatedly urged an investigation targeting Biden during that conversation, which Volker was part of. And Giuliani said that announcing such a probe would help Zelensky improve relations with Trump.

“All we need from the President [Zelensky] is to say, I’m gonna put an honest prosecutor in charge, he’s gonna investigate and dig up the evidence, that presently exists and is there any other evidence about involvement of the 2016 election, and then the Biden thing has to be run out,” Giuliani said at one point. “Somebody in Ukraine’s gotta take that seriously.”

Giuliani also told Yermak that he was eager for Ukraine to look into an allegation that Shokin “was fired because Vice President Biden threatened [former Ukrainian President Petro] Poroshenko with not getting a [US] loan guarantee that was critical at the time.”

In his October 3 deposition, Volker acknowledged arranging and participating in this call with Giuliani and Yermak, but he insisted it was “just an introductory” conversation. “It was literally, you know, ‘let me introduce, you know, Mr. Giuliani; let me introduce Mr. Yermak. I wanted to put you in touch.'” Volker said. “Blah, blah, blah.”

In fact, the lengthy call—which reportedly shocked Ukrainian officials—included an extensive discussion of what Giuliani and Trump hoped to get out of Ukraine.

Volker’s misleading testimony mattered. Republicans including Rep. Jim Jordan (R-Ohio) and Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.), who argued successfully against the Senate convicting Trump, cited the former diplomat’s claims to defend Trump. “Volker, the special envoy, said there was no quid pro quo,” Graham told reporters in November 2019, adding: “I find the whole process to be a sham and I’m not going to legitimize it.”

In a statement to Mother Jones, Schiff, who acted as lead House Manager during Trump’s first Senate impeachment trial, argues that the information that Volker failed to disclose—Giuliani overtly pressured Yermak for a so-called quid pro quo on the July 19 call—is more evidence that Trump should have been removed from office.

“During his deposition, Ambassador Volker suggested that he did not see a connection between requests for an investigation into Burisma and one into the Bidens, except in retrospect,” Schiff says. “These tapes reveal that to be a disingenuous revision of history. At trial, we warned that more of the truth would come out over time—and it has—validating the need for President Trump’s removal and tarnishing the reputations of those who knowingly participated in his scheming.”

Almost as soon as Volker’s deposition became public, questions about its accuracy arose. Just Security wrote in November 2019 that “it appears that Mr. Volker lied to Congress in violation of federal criminal law” during his October deposition. But the new reporting on the July 19 call offers stronger evidence that Volker made false claims in his October deposition and November public testimony.

Volker declined to address questions about his sworn statements. “I have nothing to add to what was already covered in my public testimony,” he said in an email Tuesday.

Schiff did not respond to a question about whether the intelligence committee will ask the Justice Department to consider charging Volker with perjury. But a committee staffer said the panel “will continually review new information that comes to light related to the Ukraine investigation to determine the appropriate response, including whether witnesses were truthful.”

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feelingbluepolitics · 4 years

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Highest recommendation.

"President Biden takes office with a ticking clock. The Democrats’ margin in the House and Senate couldn’t be thinner, and midterms typically raze the governing party. That gives Democrats two years to govern. Two years to prove that the American political system can work. Two years to show [t]rumpism was an experiment that need not be repeated.

"Two years.

"This is the responsibility the Democratic majority must bear: If they fail or falter, they will open the door for [t]rumpism or something like it to return, and there is every reason to believe it will be far worse next time. To stop it, Democrats need to reimagine their role. They cannot merely defend the political system. They must rebuild it.

"'This is a fight not just for the future of the Democratic Party or good policy,' Senator Bernie Sanders told me. 'It is literally a fight to restore faith in small-d democratic government.'

"Among the many tributaries flowing into [t]rumpism, one in particular has gone dangerously overlooked. In their book 'Presidents, Populism and the Crisis of Democracy,' the political scientists William Howell and Terry Moe write that 'populists don’t just feed on socioeconomic discontent. They feed on ineffective government — and their great appeal is that they claim to replace it with a government that is effective through their own autocratic power.

..."[t]rump was this kind of populist. Democrats mocked his 'I alone can fix it' message for its braggadocio and feared its authoritarianism, but they did not take seriously the deep soil in which it was rooted: The American system of governance is leaving too many Americans to despair and misery, too many problems unsolved, too many people disillusioned. It is captured by corporations and paralyzed by archaic rules. It is failing, and too many Democrats treat its failures as regrettable inevitabilities rather than a true crisis.

"But now Democrats have another chance. To avoid the mistakes of the past, three principles should guide their efforts. First, they need to help people fast and visibly. Second, they need to take politics seriously, recognizing that defeat in 2022 will result in catastrophe. The [t]rumpist Republican Party needs to be politically discredited through repeated losses; it cannot simply be allowed to ride back to primacy on the coattails of Democratic failure. And, finally, they need to do more than talk about the importance of democracy. They need to deepen American democracy.

..."The good news is that Democrats have learned many of these lessons, at least in theory. The $1.9 trillion rescue plan Biden proposed is packed with ideas that would make an undeniable difference in people’s lives, from $1,400 checks to paid leave to the construction of a national coronavirus testing infrastructure that will allow some semblance of normal life to resume.

"And congressional Democrats have united behind sweeping legislation to expand American democracy. The 'For the People Act,' which House Democrats passed in 2019 and Senate Democrats have said will be their first bill in the new session, would do more to protect and expand the right to vote than any legislation passed since the Great Society, and it would go a long way toward building a fairer and more transparent campaign financing system. In June, House Democrats passed a bill to grant statehood to Washington, D.C., which would end one of the most appalling cases of systematic disenfranchisement in the country.

"'It’s time for boldness, for there is so much to do,' Biden said in his Inaugural Address. 'This is certain, I promise you: We will be judged, you and I, by how we resolve these cascading crises of our era.'

"But none of these bills will pass a Senate in which the filibuster forces 60-vote supermajorities on routine legislation. And that clarifies the real question Democrats face."

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wispynador · 3 years

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Wild West Side Quest #1

We Were Caught Before the Train Robbery Even Started

The first d&d session merging our current party with another party of new friends was a hit!

This one shot took place on the continent of Granthell, a Wild West world of six shooters and outlaws with all the magic and monster trimmings of d&d. We had myself and two players from of our underdome campaign joined by three players from among our new friends, for a five player party of outlaws. (We decided to play an evil alignment one shot).

Among the PCs were Rango: a Dragonborn monk. Maw: a Dragonborn ranger. Verven: a human Druid. Sammy: a tabaxi rogue/bard multiclass. Richard: a human artifacer.

The story begins with each of our five characters wandering into Moridelt Pass, a small town perched on the precipice between a canyon that cuts through the mountains and an unforgiving desert. They’re all brought here by the same thing. Each has received a note from the most notorious outlaw on Granthell, Kate Barloux (yes, that’s stolen straight from Holes). The notes all ask the the party members to meet behind the saloon at midnight, so when they begin to wander into town around noon they’re left with time to get into trouble before the meet.

Sammy, the rogue/bard, rolls into town on a cart pulled by a mule and sets up shop as a con artist, selling people dirty water and calling it their “miracle cure all”.

Maw, one of our Dragonborns, passes by the cart and considers buying the act before paying a visit to the general store instead.

Rango, the other Dragonborn, heads straight for the saloon. They try to find Barloux before the meet even starts, but nothing pans out.

Verven, the Druid, decides to wait out the day behind the saloon, posting up and looking out for any sign of Barloux. Pretty soon the Druid is joined by Richard, a 66 year old man with hearing problems and shotgun. Verven sizes him up and decides the old man isn’t much of a threat as he takes a seat behind the saloon and lights up a tobacco pipe.

As the sun begins to set the outlaw herself, Kate Barloux rides into town. She briefly stops by Sammy’s “cure all” stand, and manages to get suckered into the bit by the rogue/bard’s ridiculous charisma bonuses (literally couldn’t roll less than a 20 the whole game due to a min/max build that I’ll be sharing with y’all eventually). Barloux stables her mule for the evening and heads for the back of the saloon, where everyone then accumulates for the meet.

Barloux’s offer is simple: a specific adamantine chest, stolen from the possession of a specific political figure, who’s riding a specific train, which stops at the train station in Moridelt at noon the next day. She wants the chest returned to her unopened and will pay each party member 1000 gold when it’s handed over. Anything else on the train they wanna take is theirs. She tells them to meet her at midnight behind the saloon in Reidolyn, the train’s next stop after Moridelt, and leaves them to their planning. Which doesn’t go well.

First thing the party does is scatter. Each finding different ways to bed down for the evening. The rogue/bard talks their way into a free room. The ranger and artifacer each buy their own rooms for the night. The monk sneaks into the stables and sleeps in one of the empty stalls while the Druid, who actually has a mule stabled there, just walks in and takes a nap.

The next morning the outlaws awaken to a new day and a goal in mind, but not even a hint of a plan. Rango, the monk, took the criminal background when character building and finds a contact in town, hoping to find a way to sneak aboard the train when it stops at noon. The contact just so happens to be the train ticket booth operator. After a brief conversation Rango has found a way into the train without a ticket.

The rest of the party meets up at the ticket booth just after this, all thinking that buying a ticket is the best first step to stealing the chest. However, before buying the tickets an argument as to the exact nature of the plan breaks out between Sammy, Verven, and Richard. An argument in which the party openly discussed hijacking the train without the slightest concern as to remaining inconspicuous. They were overheard by the ticket sales character, which didn’t much matter because that particular character is established as a criminal as well, but it does matter that someone else overheard the raised voices and dastardly plans.

The shopkeeper next door, a retired sheriff, poked his head out of the shop and stared down the party members, getting a good long look at them before making a bee line for the sheriff’s office. The party sees this, knows what it means, and does nothing. About a minute of role play between the PCs goes by as they continue to argue over the plan. Soon, at 25 minutes before the train arrives, the sheriff, the shop keep, and 3 deputies approach the train station (where the party wait for the train with 0 plan).

The monk sees what’s coming and goes stealth, hiding behind a building. The sheriff announces that the party needs to surrender for questioning on suspicion of conspiracy to commit a crime or expect a fight, and the party chooses violence.

Rango, the crouching tiger hidden Dragonborn monk, takes first rank in initiative. They wall run onto the top of a building, lean over the edge, and rain fire breath upon an unsuspecting deputy.

The Druid casts a spell that turns most of the battle field into rough terrain and slows down movement, then wildshapes into a giant scorpion. The artifacer and the ranger post up behind a building corner and start popping off shots with their guns, while Sammy the rogue/bard casts crown of madness to cause the sheriff to attack the shop keep.

The monk focuses all of their attacks on one deputy next round, a shotgun blast to the back (which counts as a monk weapon), a pistol round to the face, and a flurry of blows kick that tops of the destruction. Sammy maintains crown of madness while the artifacer and the ranger keep raining bullets on the enemy, and the Druid stabs a giant scorpion stinger into one of the deputy’s brain.

The last law man standing is the sheriff. The giant scorpion Druid latches on with both claw attacks, and manages to miss with the stinger, just as the monk leaps through the air and finishes them off with a decapitating guillotine kick.

So the outlaws of this party aren’t exactly the most organized, or inconspicuous, but they are covered in blood and standing in the middle of the street with 24 minutes before the train arrives. I’ll have a part 2 about the Wild West Side Quest out to you shortly. Until then, happy trails.

#d&d #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d story #d&d storytime #dnd storytime #dnd story #dnd one shot #d&d one shot #wild west side quest #we were caught before the train robbery even started #talk about a botched job #they were hired for a heist #and ended up killing the sheriff #and they definitely shot the deputy

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