#ttrpg fanfic

[thetavolution]

Death at the Holy House of Pym

Chapter 1

I wanted to write some Halloween-y stories to unwind. I also love the holiday.

I'm using my OCs/Tavs for these stories. I'm also open to feedback and even courage it!

Characters:

Paloma and Lamia are the leads. Newcomers will be introduced in time.

Summary:

Paloma and Lamia are summoned back to the orphanage they grew up in. When they arrive, they discover something dark has taken over the orphanage.

Inspired by Betrayal at Baldur's Gate, Death House, and The Devil's Backbone.

18+ (No smut, but it is meant to be horror. There is blood and gore.)

The orphanage never sent letters. Ever since Paloma and Lamia aged out of the Holy House of Pym, they had never heard a word from them. Not even to ask for money. Now there was a letter sitting on the dining room table from the Mother of the House. When it arrived, it looked like any other letter, except that its wax seal bore the mark of Ilmater.

Lamia did her best to sound detached. “So….”

“So?”

“We’re going, right?”

“We?” Paloma looked over at her. Lamia was avoiding her gaze, still attempting to seem disinterested. 

“It was addressed to both of us,” Lamia pointed out.

Paloma had met Lamia in the orphanage, and Paloma had immediately adopted her as a younger sister. They understood each other in a way many didn’t.

Paloma was a drow, born in the Underdark but brought to the surface as an infant. She had no memories of her time below, but she was regarded with the same ire as any other drow. Lamia was a changeling, rejected by almost everyone. 

Everyone at the orphanage knew that Paloma and Lamia had become sisters. It made sense to address the letter to both of them.

“Why would you want to go?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Paloma stared at her, silently. After a moment or two, she finally said, “You hated that place.”

Lamia spent most of her childhood bad mouthing The Holy House of Pym, an orphanage run by Ilmater painbearers.

The orphanage had always been underfunded, leading to burnt out and tired clergy. They didn’t always make the best choices. They could be short with the children, Lamia in particular. Her constant troublemaking had everyone on edge. No one knew how to handle her save for Paloma.

Lamia shrugged, trying so hard to seem noncommittal. “I’m allowed to visit places I hate. Besides, now I’m old enough to tell them where they can shove their bullshit.” She waited a beat before she added, “Up their ass.”

“Lamia.”

“That’s where they can shove it.”

Paloma sighed. “I won’t be going.”

“Why not?”

“I have no reason to.”

“I thought you liked it there.”

“It was enough at the time,” Paloma answered, truthfully. It had been enough when she didn’t know any better. “I never hated it, but I don't have a lot of love for it either.”

“And the masochists?”

“Painbearers,” Paloma corrected, though she knew it was intentional. “I haven't spoken to them in years. They always kept us at arm's length. I imagine it was so they could avoid getting their hearts broken if we were adopted or…”

It wasn't unusual for children to go missing from orphanages in Baldur's Gate. Some found themselves working for criminals or, in the worst case scenarios, killed. Orphans were a common target among the murderous. Orphans were vulnerable and often unattended. When they did go missing, very few resources went into finding them. It was up to the orphans themselves to watch over each other. You learned to trust no one but those in your cluster. 

“That was their excuse. They could have tried harder.” Lamia didn’t mince her words. As far as she was concerned, they could have been more protective, and more aggressive in pursuing anyone who harmed them. The painbearers’ “hard on for suffering,” as Lamia would say, got underfoot when it came to taking care of the kids. 

“True.” As a child, Paloma would have argued with her, wanting to defend the clergy. Now, as an adult with children of her own, she’d come around to Lamia’s side.

Lamia wouldn't gloat at getting Paloma to agree. She'd already been aware she'd won on this particular topic. “I wanna see how they're doing. Now that they have no power over us. Don’t you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don't consider them to be worth my time.”

“You don't?”

“I built a life outside of them for myself. I have no reason to even think about them anymore.”

“Despite everything?”

“Because of everything. I owe them nothing, including my thoughts.”

Lamia considered this, and then shook her head. “I don’t do high road shit. I want them to see how great I turned out in spite of them.” “You're an escaped convict.”

“Exactly! And they thought I wouldn't amount to anything!” Lamia considered her status as a source of pride. Paloma didn't try to sway her from it.

Lamia had been in prison for the last ten years, missing a lot of her niblings’ lives. Paloma’s eldest, Orianna, was only two when Lamia was sent to prison. After years of being missing in action, the wayward aunt had ended up on Paloma’s doorstep during a thunderstorm, soaking wet. Paloma was convinced she’d let herself get that soaked on purpose, hoping to look like a pathetic wet cat to be taken in. Lamia was manipulative when she wanted to be. 

Paloma knew she’d broken out of prison the moment she laid eyes on her. And Paloma knew the hulking dragonborn who stood over Lamia’s shoulder was her accomplice. (The duo eventually introduced the dragonborn as Allie.) Despite her better judgment, Paloma invited them both inside and made a place for them. As the dutiful older sister, she was far too accustomed to cleaning up after other people’s mistakes. Besides, it was her baby sister, she had to help.

Paloma didn’t reveal that she knew the truth of their situation. Lamia painted some tall tale about getting released for good behavior. That story would only work on someone who didn’t know Lamia. Paloma wanted to see how long it would take for Lamia to come clean on her own.

It only took a few weeks before Lamia admitted she was a fugitive. When Paloma said that she knew the whole time, Lamia couldn’t be upset or surprised. Paloma just knew things. Lamia promised they’d only stay a short while. Paloma knew that was a lie, too. She’d already prepared for an indefinite stay. 

The fugitives became a permanent fixture. Paloma put them to work helping around the house. Raising kids in a house with two convicts wasn’t ideal, but they didn’t live in an ideal world and she trusted Lamia. When it came to family, Lamia was loyal to a fault. 

“Come with me,” Lamia begged.

“Why can't you go alone?”

“It looks better if we're both doing great, which we are.”

“Are we doing great?”

Paloma knew the truth: Lamia could face down creatures ten times her size or a fleet of Githyanki, but she couldn't go back to the House of Pym alone. She needed her big sister.

“Allie can watch the kids,” Lamia added.

“No.” That was one mistake Paloma would never repeat again, much to the children's dismay. They hadn't seen anything wrong with the wanton destruction Allie encouraged. The kids considered mom to be a buzzkill. 

Orianna had dramatically told her that she was “stifling Auntie Allie.” The eldest Silkflower child had discovered that it’s important to “be yourself” and hadn’t grasped a lot of the nuance of that yet.

“Fine, the old woman next door can watch them,” Lamia said, exasperated.

“Alright.” Paloma could see this was important to her. “I’ll ask Mrs. Rosemaul tonight when she gets home. I want to take her some bread anyway.” She had emphasized the woman’s name, trying to shift Lamia from calling her the old woman next door. Paloma wanted to instill some kind of manners into her.

Lamia smiled. “On that note,” Lamia pushed herself out of her chair. “I’m gonna go mess with the kids.”

Paloma smiled as Lamia exited in a hurry. Paloma really did consider herself lucky to have her sister back in her life. As she turned to the stove to finish preparing dinner, she heard the familiar screams of her kids being “terrorized” by their aunt. The screams were followed by giggles. Paloma couldn’t help but laugh.

Later that evening, armed with freshly baked bread and cheese, Paloma asked “that old woman next door” if she could sit for the children the night Paloma and Lamia would be at the Holy House of Pym. 

Mrs. Rosemaul agreed to do it, rejecting the small stipend Paloma tried to pay her. The older woman had become a widow at a young age and raised her children alone. She understood a single parent’s plight. It didn’t hurt that Mrs. Rosemaul was lonely and loved having the children around. They breathed life into her aging bones and that was payment enough.

It would only be two days later when Paloma left the children in Mrs. Rosemaul’s care. She and Lamia then set out on the road toward their old stomping grounds. It had been at least a decade, but the way felt familiar. 

Lamia confidently led the way to the orphanage, possibly empowered by Paloma’s presence. Paloma clutched a weave basket in her hand, the soft raffia giving a slight crunch under the pressure. She had refused to come empty handed, so she brought a few bottles of wine as a gift for their hosts.

The winding hill the orphanage sat on no longer felt so mountainous. It was still a trek though. As they climbed the hill, they were followed by the sickly sweet smell of heliotropes, a familiar childhood scent. Trees lined the dirt path that would lead them to the Holy House’s front door. 

Paloma stopped a moment, noticing a familiar tree. It stood out among the others, as it was covered in carvings. When they were children, they had picked an enormous oak to carve little messages and names in. It looked like the tradition had died after they left. Had the children carried on, the tree most likely would have been a toothpick by now.

“Do you think it’s still there?”

Paloma jumped at the sound of Lamia’s voice. She whipped around to see Lamia was only a few feet behind her.

“Our names,” Lamia clarified.

Paloma returned her gaze to the tree. It didn’t take long to find them. She was amazed they had lasted so long. She ran her thumb over her own name, feeling the roughness of the bark and sharp edges caused by the carving. Her penmanship had improved since those days. She lingered a moment before pulling her hand away.

“Come on, we should keep going before it gets dark,” Paloma said, returning to the road. The sun had already started to set. There wouldn’t be much more daylight left.

Lamia quickly caught up to her. “Remember that druid kid who cried when he saw all the carvings?”

“Bobbin.”

“His name was Bobbin?”

“You don’t remember?”

Lamia responded with an insouciant shrug. “In my defense, he wasn’t around for very long.”

“He aged out of the orphanage with us.”

“Huh, I guess we just didn’t talk very much.”

“We talked to him every day,” Paloma’s voice rose as she grew more incredulous. “He asked you to help him ask out that girl from town. He tried to invite you to the wedding! How could you forget him?”

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been such a background character if he wanted me to notice him.”

Paloma let out a deep breath. She wouldn’t keep pressing for the sake of her own sanity. It’s not like Bobbin would ever know about this conversation. Thank the gods for that.

It wasn’t too much longer before the towering orphanage came into view. Even now, the place made Paloma feel so small. Its walls were made of dark limestone and the steepled roof was covered in black tiles. The long, thin windows were darkened, making it impossible to peak inside. 

It was possible that the painbearers were reading stories by the fireplace, letting it be their only light. One of the fond memories Paloma had of her childhood were of those nights. She hoped the tradition had continued on.

The two sisters approached the wooden doors. Paloma reached for one of the silver knockers.

“Wait.” Lamia grabbed her wrist. She pointed to the door handle. Paloma looked down to see a bloody hand print just above the doorknob. Paloma’s blood ran cold. She grabbed the handle, shocked when the door simply opened with a slight push. It should have been locked. Paloma pushed the door open wide. The little bit of daylight left poured in through the doorway.

“Gods….” Paloma’s heart dropped into her stomach. She felt Lamia grab onto her arm for support.

Blood. It was all over the floor, the walls, and the antique furniture. Pieces of skin and gore littered the entryway. Paloma spotted a chunk of scalp on the corner of a table. Someone had lost it in what must have been a horrifically violent fight. The stench of death was overpowering.

One thought immediately came to Paloma.

“Where are the children?”

[local-ink-lover]

yall uhhh. i just wrote a one shot ab a clue inspired call of cthulhu game and its the first time i've actually finished a fanfic so yea go check it out 👍

[soupedepates]

I am working on a project of a ttrpg fanfic with my homebrew and legit rolls. I already have my monster of a necromancian with 18 CON, my madlad Man-Bird warrior and his 17 STR, the sister of battle with a DPS build optimized, her fuckin dps of a twin brother (warlock) with 19 WIS...

oh and my half-siren jester, this silly little shit with, brace yourself CON 4 STR 8 DEX 10 INT 4 WIS 10 CHA 11 HP 11

In my homebrew, there are a Virtue/Affliction stress-based system (stolen from the Almighty GF and Darkest Dungeon), the notions of Major Actions (also stolen from the Almighty GF), a cooking system, and misceallaneous things that might appear.

Jester is also a class I've crafted (probs high on my meds), with low stats but can do high damages, that can specialise in three different paths: Acrobat (spellcasting on DEX), Comedian (spellcasting on CHA) and Satirist (spellcasting on SAG).

with cute little spells and cute little world-ending eldritch abominations

technically my stupid-ass jester and their stupid-ass human rogue friend are the true world-ending eldritch abomination

the rogue with her glasgow smile and her stupid hat, the jester with their stupid mask and their shenanigans

they're best friends

beware

[yeehawpim]

a comic about finding meaning

here's the video about the Parker Square btw!

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

I’ve seen Rockstar!Eddie, Mechanic!Eddie and Tattoo Artist!Eddie, so let me propose this: Comic Shop Owner!Eddie who hosts a weekly DnD group at the store

[circlique]

Avatar: Threads of Power

Prologue/Chapter 1:

Overall Rating: Mature (this chapter, Gen)

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen, Multi

Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender

In the era of Kyoshi, a scrap of ancient history was discovered. Faded by centuries of dust and neglect, all that could be discerned from the tattered parchment was the words, "Dai Li's agents brought balance to the chaos of Ba Sing Se." It is from this that Kyoshi would find the inspiration to establish a new police force in Ba Sing Se in her era. But what of the original Dai Li? Thousands of years before Kyoshi, Kuruk, and Yangchen--a history all but lost to time--the world teetered on the brink. Nations one incident from all out war, environments destroyed by the greed of man, and spirits angered by the insolence of humanity. The spirits threatened to wipe them all out, unless the humans could make a change. From this chaos, a man named Dai Li attempted to unite the world. With his charismatic aura and strange bending abilities, he all but compelled his followers to complete devotion. His power spread, commanding total submission. His daughter, however, would ruin his plans. After his first fall, Dai Li, thought dead, faded into obscurity, and his daughter, granted a strange power by the last Lion Turtle, rose to fill the void of the absent Avatar. Ten years later, Dai Li would rear his head again, and Juno, knowing humanity under Dai Li's rule would have no humanity at all, sought out her own band of benders to take on her father. With all their differences and flaws, she will have her work cut out for her as they face Dai Li's enigmatic cult, their own demons, and the Avatar of whom no one speaks.

Yay, it's here! I hope you'll give it a read and stick along for the ride with me!

Click to read on AO3!

[ladydoombot]

Ok.... So I finally got it. Any tips?

Also is the dark elder guy actually that hot?

[strixludica]

Outlining the plot of a Lancer TTRPG X Mass Effect croosver fic:

Encyclopedia: Lancer's Narrative Designer specifically did not include aliens in order to avoid having easy stereotypes and villains

Conceptualization: You should focus the narrative away from direct conflict and towards ThirdComm's walking the tightrope of maintaining their anti-imperialisti ideals while competing in a full fledged galactic community

Empathy: Culture clash is a fertile and underutilized stage for confrontation and character building

Authority + Pain Threshold: KILL BATARIANS. BOMB BATARIANS, MELT BATARIANS. FEED BATARIANS TO THE GREYWASH. MAKE BATARIANS STARE INTO A BASILISK UNTIL THEIR EYEBALLS MELT FROM THEIR SOCKETS. TOPPLE THEIR GOVERNMENT. SODOMIZE THEIR PETS. STEAL THEIR WIFI.

[rustymaps]

Weasaros City

[kingtrey3]

I find it kinda interesting that I never really got into fanfic stuff that much. Like, I always hear this stuff about how autistic people tend to really like fanfics because it allows them to experience new things with characters they're already familiar with. And, like, I kinda get that, but at the same time I could NEVER get into that fanfic stuff. It just...wasn't my thing.

Later on, I started doing my Pathfinder conversions (I do a lot of conversion guides of prewritten campaigns from Pathfinder First Edition to Pathfinder Second Edition), and I kinda started to understand. This feeling of looking at a thing you already know well and trying to figure out how it would work in a different medium/context is very fulfilling.

I dunno, I just find it interesting that the "urge to read/write fanfic" autistic trait in me was instead channeled into "urge to convert TTRPG stuff."

[rabidbrains]

Trying to find quicker ways to get art out and think this was definitely quicker than I normally take, but not by much lol. Illustration features my human Tav, Del. She is a rogue assassin and is romancing Astarion.

[wavyanarch]

LGBTQ+ DISHONORED DISCORD

Hello!

Welcome to Dishonored Heretics! A very chill environment where you can discuss your theories, moments of the series, the game itself and many other things not only related to Dishonored.

We also have channels for the TTRPG of Dishonored!

IMPORTANT:

- LGBTQ ONLY - It’s a safe space for everyone within the community; sexists, misogynists, lgbtqphobics will be banned from the server;

- Please REBLOG so others can see it too

Discord invite (waiting room):

https://discord.gg/nDM5mAZt

[leaderpinhead]

Idia - The Tavern Scene

Prompt: "Fantasy AU"

You find yourself in a lively tavern. Patrons of all walks of life, from towering half-orcs to nimble gnomes, cram themselves into the small room from wall to wall, and laughter fills the air along with the mouthwatering smells of cooked meat and stew. Tiny fairy lights drift above the crowd, creating a light and cheerful ambience. Though you have no memories of traveling here, you find yourself relaxing thanks to the warm and welcome atmosphere. You walk deeper into the crowd in search of an empty table. You eventually find one, but upon sitting down, you realize three others have done the same. 

How do you introduce yourself? 

[“Roll for initiative!” 

“Huh? Initiative for what? I just said to introduce yourself.” 

“I wanna go first!” 

“You don’t have to roll initiative for that. Just go first.” 

“Shit! I got a natural one.” 

“You’re going last now.” 

“lol sucks to suck.” 

“Be nice, big brother!” 

“What’s initiative again?” 

“Introduce yourselves already!”] 

“I sit down after carefully propping my samurai sword against the table. I bow my head to each of you as a show of respect. Konbanwa. I pray you do not mind I claim this seat. I have traveled a great distance this evening.” 

“I smile and lean across the table like I wanna shake his hand. The heavy backpack I always carry accidentally knocks over the chair, and a few pebbles kinda break off my body and fall on the floor. Whoops! Sorry about that! I’m not used to being in such small places. I take his hand whether he wants me to or not and give it a hearty shake. My name’s Orzo! I point at the little fairy next to me. And this is Lulu! We’ve been traveling together for a long time. Lulu is the one who woke me up.” 

“I kinda bend forward from the force of his shake because he’s so large, but I act all cool about it. A pleasure to meet you both. I am Kenji.” 

“I just keep shaking his hand and smile because I have no awareness of human social cues.” 

[“Roll for constitution, Idia.” 

“Why?” 

“Because he’s a giant ass stone golem with no social awareness. He’s gonna crush your hand if you don’t do something.” 

“I got a six. Plus five which makes that eleven.”] 

Although you sense no ill-intent from this strange creature of earth and stone, you begin to feel the slow crush of bone as he slowly squeezes your hand tighter and tighter. Not knowing how this new companion will react to rejection, you smile and bear the intensifying pain shooting up your forearm as you formulate a plan to politely extract yourself from his grasp. 

[“Could I step in to break them apart before Idia loses his hand? 

“Yeah, go ahead. You’ll roll a d20 for charisma to see if your interjection is enough to distract Orzo.” 

“Can she have advantage since Orzo and Lulu already know each other?” 

“Sure. I’ll allow it.” 

“Great! You can use my die, Yuu!” 

“Thanks. So I just roll this and give you my number?” 

“Yeah. Roll twice and take the higher number. Then add the modifier on your character sheet for a final total. That’s how you’ll roll for skill checks, ability checks, and other stuff like that.” 

“Twenty-five.” 

“Your interjection is so successful that Orzo will never forget the social cue again.” 

“By the way, Yuu? You’re supposed to use our character’s name while we’re roleplaying. So I’m Orzo, Idia’s Kenji, and Kalani’s Gacktu.” 

“Right. Sorry!”] 

“Um, I’ll fly up onto the table since I’m assuming I can’t see anything from my chair anyway and...skip over to where their hands are. I’ll kinda flutter in the air next to their hands and grab Ortho—I mean Orzo’s wrist. Slow down there big guy! You’re gonna break another hand.” 

[“What? Why are you laughing?” 

“You sound so...squeaky.” 

“I’m supposed to be a fairy! Fairies sound squeaky.” 

“It makes me wanna squish you between my hands!” 

“As Gacktu or Kalani?” 

“Both!” 

“You need to stop hanging out with Floyd…”] 

With your reminder, Orzo recognizes Kenji is wincing in pain and releases him. Since you interjected when you did, Kenji is freed from Orzo’s hold before he takes any damage. Continue. 

“As I was saying [—stop laughing!—] you've gotta remember your strength big guy. Humans aren’t as sturdy as stone golems are.” 

[“Did you just get inducted into the mafia?” 

“Srsly. What is that accent?” 

“Shut up and let me roleplay!”] 

“I get tired of waiting for my turn to introduce myself and throw a stink bomb into the center of the table.” 

[“Are you kidding me?” 

“Everyone roll a dexterity save. You included, Kalani.” 

“My dexterity is shit.” 

“You did this to yourself. I told you if you were going to ruin my game with your random crap like you did the last one, then I was going to kill you in the first hour.” 

“Seventeen!” 

“Ten.” 

“Nat twenty.” 

“Freaking six.”] 

A small ball made of dried leather and stitched rather roughly together lands in the center of the table. Before you can deflect it back at the little booger sitting with you, a noxious green gas explodes from the seams. Both Orzo and Kenji dodge the attack; Lulu and Gacktu do not. Lulu takes three acid damage, and Gacktu takes six.” 

“Screams in goblin!” 

“I do this sick kind of backflip and grab my sword like I’m ready to attack. I do not know how your kind normally greet each other, but I will only allow such treatment once.” 

“I go to throw another stink bomb directly at the funny looking human. It’s just a friendly how-do-you-do!” 

“I see the stink bomb heading straight at me, and I don’t even hesitate to unsheathe my blade. The edges of it glow with purple wisps of magic, and the elvish symbols etched into the steel glow a similar purple. [I activate my cantrip Ghost Blade which allows me to parry physical and arcane attacks until my concentration is broken.] I parry the bomb off the flat edge of the blade and send it flying across the room.” 

You successfully parry the stink bomb, and it goes flying across the room just like you said. Unfortunately, the tavern is so crowded, there’s no way the stink bomb can be fully avoided. It explodes into another cloud of noxious green gas just like the first one. You all watch as a party of innocent gnomes are immediately incapacitated by the fumes. All of you need to roll perception saving rolls. 

[“I got a seven.” 

“Three. Fairies aren’t very perceptive.” 

“Neither are stone golems. I got a natural one.” 

“Twenty-seven, patootie!”] 

None of you except Gacktu notice a number of patrons turning in the direction of your table. Gacktu, you realize they are aware the stink bomb came from your table, but they don’t look like they know exactly who threw the bomb. Their wariness has shifted the light-hearted atmosphere. 

[“I don’t bring anyone’s attention to the people staring at us.” 

“We’re gonna get KO’d before we’re even able to order a drink...”] 

“I had kinda dove under the table to avoid the original bomb, but since I’m so big, you still see most of my body. So I’m essentially just hunched over with my head under the table. I wave Lulu over to me after I realize she took damage from the first stink bomb. Oh, no! Lulu! Come here so I can heal you before that nasty acid melts your wings.” 

[“Lemme see. I’ll use one of my tier one spell slots to cast Cure on her. And...she’ll get the max heals of six.”] 

“I crawl to the edge of the table and dramatically fall into Orzo’s hand for him to heal me. Thanks Orzzy. Now watch this. 

[“Since I’m a rogue, can I do this sleight of hand action to steal all the stink bombs off Gacktu?” 

“I’ll allow it with advantage. Do a skill check the same way you did the charisma check.” 

“You guys are boring.”] 

“Once I’m healed, I flit over to Gacktu. He doesn’t see me crawl into the pouch on his hip where he had pulled out the first bomb. I use my natural fairy magic to trap all the stink bombs in little bubbles of light, and they float into the air to join the fairy lights lighting the tavern.” 

The patrons see this and lose a bit of their wariness and return to what they were previously doing. Before you leave Gacktu’s pouch, you notice more odd leather balls of varying color. 

[“Oh, come on! Now you’re just being a patookie, Ladnar!” 

“You’ve angered this world’s god, and he is fully prepared to smite you. Yuu, roll another sleight of hand with advantage and an arcane check.”] 

You notice more odd leather balls of varying color, and with your knowledge of magic, you recognize these leather balls are potent bombs of alchemy. Having already experienced Gacktu’s short attention span and lack of patience, you decide it would be best to steal those balls and make them into fairy lights as well. 

[“Don’t I get to make some kind of saving throw?” 

“No. You’re distracted by your own mayhem. Strike all the stink bombs, smoke bombs, lightning bombs, fire bombs, firecrackers, and ice cubes from your inventory.” 

“You want my bath bombs too?” 

“Since you’re being a little shit, yes.” 

"I’ll make you regret this.”] 

“I fly back over to Orzo when I’m done and dance around his head. Look Orzo! Aren’t they pretty? And then I’ll pull out the bath bombs I stole and proudly show Orzo. And I got this! It smells like mint bubblegum, so I kept it for myself.” 

“I’ve never seen anything like that before. What does it do?” 

“I don’t know, but he obviously doesn’t use it. He smells like old cheese and swamp. We can try adding it to water later to make a potion!” 

“I relax a little since I saw Lulu take most of the bombs from the crazy goblin’s pouch, but I keep my hand on my sword just to be ready. I don’t sit again, but I stand next to the table. I see that you, Lulu and Orzo, may be more trustworthy than this creature. Tell me, do either of you know this area well? I have found myself here, but I have no memory of my travels.” 

“What a coincidence! Neither do we. I’m not that great when it comes to directions, but Lulu’s really good with maps. She keeps really good track of where we travel, but there’s nothing on her map after we left the last town we were in. I dig into my backpack and pull out a small map that’s barely larger than the palm of my hand. See? Nothing there.” 

[“Can the map just be a bunch of scribbles with cartoons that look vaguely like mountains and forests?” 

“It’s your map. You get to decide how all of your personal things look and what they do, just like you decide what your character does. I’m giving you the overarching story and directing you through it.” 

“Cool. So the map basically looks like a kid drew it with crayons. There’s some green scribbles in one corner that looks like it might be a forest and some grey scribbles at the top that kind of look like mountains or clouds. In one section of the map is a cartoon of a cat that has a bunch of exclamation marks and a red stain next to it. There’s a bunch of black scribbles that kinda look like a large ball of yarn all over the paper with random red X’s scattered here and there. Above each X is the word HERE, and only one X has a HERE that hasn’t been scribbled out.] 

“I point at the one X and say, Last I checked, we were there, but now we’re here, but it’s not the same here as there, so it can’t be here, here, or here. I’m pointing at the other X’s as I say that. So the only here it could be is right here! And then I take a little red crayon out of the pocket of my little leaf overalls and make a giant X in the middle of the map.” 

“So we do know where we are! See? I told you. Lulu is great with maps! I go to give Lulu a high-five even though she’s barely the size of my palm.” 

“I give him a high-five by tackling his hand with my entire body.” 

[“Can I do a perception check to see if the people in the tavern are watching us again?” 

“Why are you trying to ruin this moment?” 

“I want to play the game, and this is getting boring!” 

“Fine. Do a perception check.” 

“Sixteen.”] 

You see the patrons who were suspicious of you earlier have returned to their drinks and company. They’re not looking in your direction at all. [“Are you happy now?” 

“Yes. What does the bar area of the tavern look like?” 

“It looks like any other tavern. I didn’t plan for you to linger here long enough to put any special detail into it.” 

“Hmm. So I’m assuming they have stereotypical tavern fare. Like barrels of ale.” 

“Yes. What are you fishing for?” 

“Nothing. Continue.”] 

"I'm nodding my head as Lulu explains her map to me. but I’ve decided Orzo and Lulu are not a reliable source to answer any of my questions. Perhaps we may travel together for a while to—.” 

“I cast Fire Bolt on the barrels of ale behind the bar and yell, Kowabunga!” 

[“Are you serious right now?” 

“Kalani!” 

“GG bois. We’re cooked. Literally.” 

“No. No. No! He is not doing this again. I will not have another space funeral like the Meteor Odyssey campaign. Everyone roll dexterity!” 

“One.” 

“Four” 

“Nine.” 

“Twenty! Ahahahaha!” 

“Crap. All of you except Kalani take fire damage. Lemme see...Idia you take three damage; Ortho you only take two; and Yuu...how much health do you have?” 

“I only have six since I’m a tiny fairy.” 

“...” 

“Am I already dead?” 

“You’re not by chance a fire fairy, are you?” 

“No.” 

“Then yeah, you’re dead.”] 

“Lulu! No! You can’t die on me!” 

“Orzo. My friend. I’m afraid...this is the end. Bleh.” 

[“You know, we might be roleplaying, but you don’t have to actually lay on the floor and die.” 

“Yes, I do, Idia.” 

“No, you—.” 

“Yes, I do, Idia.” 

“Fine. Whatever.” 

“All the people that were angry at us earlier have to be even angrier now. Angry enough to start a tavern brawl!” 

“Why are you trying to fabricate an unnecessary fight this early. I had it planned for you to fight an undying—.” 

“Too slow! Not enough violence. Gacktu crave violence!” 

“You know what? Fine!”] 

As the fire ravages through the room, engulfing Lulu’s small body— 

“Lulu! Who will guide me with their maps now?” 

“Bleh!” 

—the patrons who noticed your infighting earlier begin to converge on your table. The flames reflect off the surface of their eyes, and you can see the same angry heat personified in their movements. Many of them are unarmed, but others pull daggers from their belts. Because of your location in the far back corner, you have no choice but to engage with them. 

[“Roll initiative so we can get this bloodbath over with and call it a day. Everyone is at a disadvantage except Kalani because he’s the one that started all this.” 

“Fourteen. Not that it matters.” 

“Another twenty!” 

“I’m just going to sit next to where Lulu once was and let the fire take me.” 

“You don’t have to do that Ortho.” 

“I do! We were the best of companions, and I could never continue my journey without you! Bleh!” 

“I’m starting to think you two just want to lay on the floor.” 

“Kalani and Idia, you both rolled under what I just rolled for the tavern group, so they all go before you.” 

“How many are there?” 

“Twenty-six.” 

“Crap...” 

“The six unarmed patrons move to get into attack range, but their movement is impended by the fire, which leaves them five meters short of reaching you. Six of the patrons wielding daggers do the same. Five of those patrons with daggers throw their weapons at Gacktu. What’s your AC?” 

“Ten.” 

“They all hit for a total of twenty-five. Each.” 

“Gacktu will slowly fall to the ground, and his screams become all gurgly as blood gushes out of his throat and the wounds where the daggers penetrate him. Ahhhhhgghghghgh!” 

“Ew. You just spit all over my tablet.” 

“Welcome to death, Gacktu.” 

“Why does the Underworld smell like vinegar?” 

“The other patrons move forward.” 

“I’m rolling for immediate death. Nat twenty. GG. I’m out.”] 

“Are you happy now, Kalani?” Ladnar snapped. He closed his laptop with a heavy slam. The squinted glare he directed at the cackling boy sprawled on the ground made Idia hide behind his tablet. “You managed to ruin another campaign in less than half an hour. Congratulations.” 

“I had fun,” Yuu said. She shifted to look less “dead.” Ortho snickered where he sprawled across her stomach. “It sucks that I died before I could stab anyone with my twin knitting needles, but I’ll play as Lulu the thieving fairy again the next time you play.” 

“I’m not ever playing with Kalani again,” Ladnar insisted. He fidgeted with his glasses. Azul usually did the same when he lost a game in their Board Game Club meetings, so Idia figured it was just a habit all glasses-wearing people had. “Why do you have to blow up everything before the campaign even starts?” 

“‘Cause it gets so boring,” Kalani groaned. He wiggled around on the floor until he bumped up against Yuu. Yuu’s nose wrinkled when he flung his palm into her face. “Does my hand smell like vinegar?” 

“Ew. It does. Why do you smell like that?” 

“It’s the floor! Someone spilled vinegar on the floor!” 

“You were also eating salt and vinegar chips before we started,” Ortho argued. He rolled onto his stomach and propped his elbows on Yuu. He kicked his legs in the air behind him. “I’m gonna agree with Ladnar though. You can’t play with us anymore.” 

“Aw! You too kaikaina?” Kalani groaned. He rolled around on the floor. Idia couldn’t help imagining him being a little child throwing a tantrum with his flailing limbs. “I was just tryin’ to make things more exciting and get the story moving!” 

“I told you during session 0 that our first session would be a little slow!” Ladnar argued. Idia slowly slid down his chair until he could barely see Ladnar’s reddening face over the table. “We’re establishing the setting and story. I had a combat sequence planned to end the session that would have been a satisfying cliffhanger and helped ease Yuu into the game mechanics. But she didn't even get a chance to fight because you killed her!” 

Kalani stuck out his tongue so far that Idia thought he would stick it up his nose. “You were taking too long. We’ve been playing for two hours now!” 

“We’ve barely been here for twenty minutes!” 

Idia slithered out of his chair as the argument between Ladnar and Kalani escalated. He army crawled to join Ortho and Yuu. Ortho giggled, and Yuu grunted when Idia “accidentally” knocked his bony elbow against hers. “See why I don’t usually play TTRPG IRL? At least online you can kick a griefer from the campaign and block them.” 

"Technically, we didn’t have to just die,” Ortho said, “but it didn’t sound like Kalani was really feeling the setting. We can always try again next week!” 

“Yeah,” Yuu said. Idia hissed through his teeth when she dug her elbow into his. “Playing games online isn’t bad but getting to watch everyone act out their character is a lot more fun than I thought it would be.” 

“Oh!” Ortho popped up off the floor in one fluid motion. Ladnar and Kalani’s argument had dissolved into them throwing insults at each other, Kalani shouting nonsense while Ladnar blinked in and out of existence. “We should invite Vil to play with us! I could totally see him playing a high elf, noble, warlock!” 

Idia snorted and propped himself on his elbows to check the gacha games notifications on his tablet. “Yeah, right. Like Vil would agree to—.” 

“He says he’s down as long as it doesn’t conflict with his schedule,” Yuu interrupted. Idia’s head snapped towards her so suddenly that a muscle in his neck twinged in pain. Yuu had pulled out her phone and was obviously messaging someone. “I bet Lilia would enjoy a game like this too. Is there a limit to how many people can play?” 

“Five is a pretty common number for most campaigns,” Ortho answered. Idia shot Ortho a wide-eyed look at his encouragement, but he appeared as enthusiastic at the prospect of more players as Yuu did. “Six might get a little busy, but Ladnar’s hosted a campaign with ten other dorm mates before. I’ll go ask him how many players would work with a campaign reset!” 

Idia stared in silent horror when Ortho flew over to talk to Ladnar, interrupting Kalani’s attempts to reenact his character’s fire spell. Idia groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “This was just supposed to be a one-time thing…” 

“Azul says he’ll play if it counts as club time.” 

Idia groaned again and felt his Fate was sealed when he heard another happy exclamation from Ortho. It was one thing to play a TTRPG with his dorm mates—who were all as nerdy as him even if one of those dorm mates was Kalani—but people like Vil, and Lilia, and even Azul? He might as well melt into a nerdy puddle right now and save himself the embarrassment. All because he had jokingly said he would set up a game if Yuu filled out a huge character sheet, complete with three pages of a full backstory. 

He was never making an offhanded promise to the prefect ever again. 

[crescent-cubed]

Brain too loud bc too many creative ideas augh

[juliendesclefs]

An art from ma meilleure amie and a fanfic!

Hi everyone!

I'll upload in a couple of days a fanfic about Marle Clef de Nuit in the Mario and Luigi Bowser's Inside Story universe!

And ma meilleure amie, @squares-the-cosmosrectangle kindly has drawn Marle Clef de Nuit for this fantastic, like with this art!

What are her nefarious goals? You'll discover it in .... Ring the ultimate finale! [⚠️ the story contains gore!]

[grimbiliah]

Hello TESblr

I’m running a Skyrim tabletop campaign and my players are about to go to Solstheim. I know a lot of you have Miraak opinions and ideas and I would like to hear them, please.