The Dancing Sword flys over the defeated body of the Thesselhydra and returns to the outstretched hand of an acid smoldering dwarf. His other hand holds the black-bladed Dark Winter’s Bite, its tip touching the ground now that the fight seems to be over.
He heaves a sigh of relief and smoke flows away from him with his exhale.
A smile, somewhat pained, grows on his face.
”We did it!”He exclaims. “We really did it.”
He shakes the blades in turn to remove the ichor and then resheaths them. He quickly sits on the cave floor, masking that it was really more of a controlled collapse.
”I need a moment, mates. I will help sever the rest of the heads and store them in our Bags of Holding in a few minutes.”
Mara checks over the dead body with fire, lightning a torch (with prestidigitation) searing off any stumps or possible points of regeneration and getting the heads cleaned up her telekinesis, while using her fan to deal with the smell, each wave of it magically cleaning it up.
Investigation to check if it's got any surprises, if needed: 17
Progo comes back around the corner after some frustrated verbal noises that are hard to make out (Orc curses using Theives Can't speach) with out his leather armor vest anymore. Still re positioning some of the straps of the rest of his equipment mod stride, he walks over to the now corpse and stabs it with the raiper. "Progo liked that vest very much and now wishes Progo could kill you a second time." He turns towards Fred. "Progo could use a spare healing or two if available, Progo would like to try and retrieve some of the acid and possibly some hide for a new vest, but the butterfly can stand as much of a hit as Progo at the moment. Can never be too carefully with acid."
You managed to collect 12(?) heads from the beast. You killed all the creatures in and around the cave. You saw the town just a few miles from where you are. You triumphantly march down the centre of the main road. The towns people see you returning and rejoice breathing a collective sigh of relief. You enter the keep of Sir Tristan and he heralds you as heroes. He grants you the payment he promised and hosts a huge banquet in your honour, and you all level up to Level 5.
Cue the Throne Room music from the end of A New Hope. Roll Credits.
Feel free to make any final comments from your character for their denouement.
I hope you enjoyed yourselves. I sure did. I enjoyed stretching my creative writing skills and learning more about D&D. If any of you live near the Seattle area, hit me up. I appreciate your dedication and patience. It was very satisfying to finish a full story.
((by-the-way, I had to majorly home brew the Thessalhydra. As-written you would have killed it in the first hit or two. I added the multi attacks and the legendary actions and gave it,like 400 HP when it was only supposed to have, like, 60. I was doing my best to make it challenging and unique as possible. Good job!))
Thalron’s reward was seeing Lord Tristan’s face when the team presented the heads for his trophy room. Proffering the Demogorgon head and claws came with a whole new story. He returned all of the lent items, Winter’s Dark Bite, the Ring of Protection and the Bag of Holding. He kept the Dancing as Sword for himself.
Over the next week while healing and feasting in celebration, he thanked his teammates endlessly. He ventured throughout the town accepting the praise from the common folk. Retelling the story and embellishing it if the ale was free flowing.
Finally, after the last of the team made their goodbyes to strike out on other adventures, Thalron made one last stop to bid his old friend Tristan adieu. He set his face down an untrodden path, adjusted his backpack, and walked confidently onward.
(Thank you all for the game! Congrats DM on completing it! I had a great time. Hope to see you all in the forums.)
Progo "accidentally" left his bag of holding with the tanner that he hired to make leather out of the Thessalhydra hide, ultimately for making a new set of armor to replace his dissolved equipment. He keeps the vials of monster blood and spare flowers they collected to use in case a quick get away is needed in his future endeavors!
Visibility reluctant to returning the ring, he does after Thalron set that expectation. With his new found gold stash, he has a new custom cart built and starts buying potions and ingredients to restart his old career as traveling potion merchant. He offers Mara's familiar to travel with him, knowing that means Mara would accompany him as well. As he has no destination, he figures that Mara may want to return home or close too, which could lead to many things new things to him, perhaps he can finally find the potion answers he seeks.
(First completed campaign I've ever been a part of! It's been great working with all of you and I certainly learned alot from each of you along the way. Great job DM, I had a blast!)
((Sorry this is late. I swear I wrote this out right away, but then I fell asleep and my phone deleted my draft then I got sick, like bedridden sick after!))
After the initial fanfare, Mara excuses herself in the same manner of a servant-girl would to avoid sharing the spotlight. Or as of that as an adventurer who failed her party that she was sent out with.
So as the festivities kicked off, Mara sequestered herself in the castle's study, tossing her fan to one side, taking its original form of an ornate scroll with gold filigree. It told the tale of Mara as part of a fledgeling party of adventurers, none of her companions being the same as the ones that made it back to Sir Tristan's keep.
On the other side, an owl perched nearby. Having spent 10 of the reward gold, Mara changed her butterfly's form into a wizened owl (although the inside of the familiar's wings are still much like a butterfly). Then creating a tiny quill in the palm of her hand, Mara uses her ability to write to chronicle their journey while the memory was still fresh (wizardly quill, Order of Scribes feature), never running out of ink.
Dawn.
Mara leaned back and stretched as the pair of spectacles dissolved from her face. She didn't bother creating another though, for her task was finished. A sheaf of papers was delivered to each of the party members' sleeping quarters, in it was a record of the party's complete adventure, telling the tales of
Sir Thalron Moltenaxe the valiant, the dwarf who was too stubborn to die, fending off many blows from the flesh-eating monster before encouraging the party to push on
Scion Fred the serene, the quiet gnome who transformed into a roar of fury when action was required of him
Mister Progo the upstart, the young half-orc who was as good at running his mouth as much as the art of assassination
Each hero was given a section set in rhyme and verse to be easily set into a song. However, the fourth member of the party (and its narrator) was for the most part a passive observer. It even records that the finishing blow to the Thessalhydra was due to Fred's flames.
This was because Mara's goal was to stay within the village, acting as advisor to the kingdom of Sir Tristan regarding their neighbors...from planes beyond.
Because while she enjoyed having the status of being in the heroes' party, she did not want her fame to spread so far that soldiers or adventurers would find themselves out of a job. Or worse, ending up in a party where the poor wizard is forced to take the lead out of her sheer reputation.
Progo is behind the wall stripping his armor off! Very anti climatic on his part...
The Dancing Sword flys over the defeated body of the Thesselhydra and returns to the outstretched hand of an acid smoldering dwarf. His other hand holds the black-bladed Dark Winter’s Bite, its tip touching the ground now that the fight seems to be over.
He heaves a sigh of relief and smoke flows away from him with his exhale.
A smile, somewhat pained, grows on his face.
”We did it!” He exclaims. “We really did it.”
He shakes the blades in turn to remove the ichor and then resheaths them. He quickly sits on the cave floor, masking that it was really more of a controlled collapse.
”I need a moment, mates. I will help sever the rest of the heads and store them in our Bags of Holding in a few minutes.”
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
Fred drops the ball of fire and asks if any are in need of healing
D&D since 1984
Mara checks over the dead body with fire, lightning a torch (with prestidigitation) searing off any stumps or possible points of regeneration and getting the heads cleaned up her telekinesis, while using her fan to deal with the smell, each wave of it magically cleaning it up.
Investigation to check if it's got any surprises, if needed: 17
"Well done, Sir Moltenaxe! I'm certain the bards will tell your tale--well, of your tales far and wide..."
"...although we'll be sure to leave out a few details~" she trails off with the fan returning to cover her expression.
Fred, seeing Mara checking to make sure it is really dead, also confirms.
D&D since 1984
Progo comes back around the corner after some frustrated verbal noises that are hard to make out (Orc curses using Theives Can't speach) with out his leather armor vest anymore. Still re positioning some of the straps of the rest of his equipment mod stride, he walks over to the now corpse and stabs it with the raiper. "Progo liked that vest very much and now wishes Progo could kill you a second time." He turns towards Fred. "Progo could use a spare healing or two if available, Progo would like to try and retrieve some of the acid and possibly some hide for a new vest, but the butterfly can stand as much of a hit as Progo at the moment. Can never be too carefully with acid."
Congratulations. The Thessalhydra is dead.
***well gang, I’m going to wrap this up
You managed to collect 12(?) heads from the beast. You killed all the creatures in and around the cave. You saw the town just a few miles from where you are. You triumphantly march down the centre of the main road. The towns people see you returning and rejoice breathing a collective sigh of relief. You enter the keep of Sir Tristan and he heralds you as heroes. He grants you the payment he promised and hosts a huge banquet in your honour, and you all level up to Level 5.
Cue the Throne Room music from the end of A New Hope. Roll Credits.
Feel free to make any final comments from your character for their denouement.
I hope you enjoyed yourselves. I sure did. I enjoyed stretching my creative writing skills and learning more about D&D. If any of you live near the Seattle area, hit me up. I appreciate your dedication and patience. It was very satisfying to finish a full story.
((by-the-way, I had to majorly home brew the Thessalhydra. As-written you would have killed it in the first hit or two. I added the multi attacks and the legendary actions and gave it,like 400 HP when it was only supposed to have, like, 60. I was doing my best to make it challenging and unique as possible. Good job!))
Thalron’s reward was seeing Lord Tristan’s face when the team presented the heads for his trophy room. Proffering the Demogorgon head and claws came with a whole new story. He returned all of the lent items, Winter’s Dark Bite, the Ring of Protection and the Bag of Holding. He kept the Dancing as Sword for himself.
Over the next week while healing and feasting in celebration, he thanked his teammates endlessly. He ventured throughout the town accepting the praise from the common folk. Retelling the story and embellishing it if the ale was free flowing.
Finally, after the last of the team made their goodbyes to strike out on other adventures, Thalron made one last stop to bid his old friend Tristan adieu. He set his face down an untrodden path, adjusted his backpack, and walked confidently onward.
(Thank you all for the game! Congrats DM on completing it! I had a great time. Hope to see you all in the forums.)
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
@Wes, thank you for let us tag along on your epoch journey.
To my fellow adventures, well played. Take care and see you around the D&D universe :-)
D&D since 1984
Progo "accidentally" left his bag of holding with the tanner that he hired to make leather out of the Thessalhydra hide, ultimately for making a new set of armor to replace his dissolved equipment. He keeps the vials of monster blood and spare flowers they collected to use in case a quick get away is needed in his future endeavors!
Visibility reluctant to returning the ring, he does after Thalron set that expectation. With his new found gold stash, he has a new custom cart built and starts buying potions and ingredients to restart his old career as traveling potion merchant. He offers Mara's familiar to travel with him, knowing that means Mara would accompany him as well. As he has no destination, he figures that Mara may want to return home or close too, which could lead to many things new things to him, perhaps he can finally find the potion answers he seeks.
(First completed campaign I've ever been a part of! It's been great working with all of you and I certainly learned alot from each of you along the way. Great job DM, I had a blast!)
((Sorry this is late. I swear I wrote this out right away, but then I fell asleep and my phone deleted my draft then I got sick, like bedridden sick after!))
After the initial fanfare, Mara excuses herself in the same manner of a servant-girl would to avoid sharing the spotlight. Or as of that as an adventurer who failed her party that she was sent out with.
So as the festivities kicked off, Mara sequestered herself in the castle's study, tossing her fan to one side, taking its original form of an ornate scroll with gold filigree. It told the tale of Mara as part of a fledgeling party of adventurers, none of her companions being the same as the ones that made it back to Sir Tristan's keep.
On the other side, an owl perched nearby. Having spent 10 of the reward gold, Mara changed her butterfly's form into a wizened owl (although the inside of the familiar's wings are still much like a butterfly). Then creating a tiny quill in the palm of her hand, Mara uses her ability to write to chronicle their journey while the memory was still fresh (wizardly quill, Order of Scribes feature), never running out of ink.
Dawn.
Mara leaned back and stretched as the pair of spectacles dissolved from her face. She didn't bother creating another though, for her task was finished. A sheaf of papers was delivered to each of the party members' sleeping quarters, in it was a record of the party's complete adventure, telling the tales of
Each hero was given a section set in rhyme and verse to be easily set into a song. However, the fourth member of the party (and its narrator) was for the most part a passive observer. It even records that the finishing blow to the Thessalhydra was due to Fred's flames.
This was because Mara's goal was to stay within the village, acting as advisor to the kingdom of Sir Tristan regarding their neighbors...from planes beyond.
Because while she enjoyed having the status of being in the heroes' party, she did not want her fame to spread so far that soldiers or adventurers would find themselves out of a job. Or worse, ending up in a party where the poor wizard is forced to take the lead out of her sheer reputation.
Gandalf she ain't.