Hello, I'm looking for one Person to join my currently runnning Campaign, we are 3 sessions in and one player just randomly ghosted everyone. We are an 18+ plus group of now 4 Players and me the DM from different countries in the EU. I run a mix of 2024 and 2014 rules, sort of picking the best out of both. For the campaign, I have created my own Homebrew world, with lore to uncover, my own pantheon of gods and plenty more stuff. We play weekly on Fridays at 8PM CET. Also if possible be a fan of arcane casters, that is what the group is lacking ^^ This friday we have a One-shot, so perfect for introductions :)
If your interested just dm me here or add me on Discord: Fowlfighter
And here is a small story about the Creation of a part of my world.
The Tale of the World Born on a Dragon's Head
Long ago, before time wore a name, there was a dragon so vast its wings eclipsed the sun, and its breath could shatter mountains not yet born. Its body coiled around the sky, and its hunger stirred the stars. It had no name, for no mortal tongue could bear its weight, but the oldest dragons call it Vorrakthuun, the First Flame Unending.The gods, seeing the world’s birth stolen by its shadow, whispered to one another in horror. And so, they chose a single champion, a radiant figure forged of celestial flame and stormlight. The champion fell from the heavens like a sword hurled by creation itself and struck down the beast in a roar that carved oceans and cracked the sky.Where Vorrakthuun’s head fell, a land took shape, the continent of Ialaris, formed from bone, ash, and divine fury. The mountain ranges are his horns. The volcanoes, his teeth. The rivers, the memory of his blood.
In time, dragons filled the world, born from the corpse of the First Flame. Some were seared in shadow and greed, the Chromatic Broods, cruel and glorious in their rage. Others glimmered with wisdom and honor, the Metallic Kin, quieter and fewer.For an age, the dragons ruled. They scorched skies, raised cities of bone, and shackled the smaller peoples, the elves, dwarves, humans, halflings, and all others who dared to crawl across their world.
But the gods had not forgotten their creation.And the Metallic Kin began to dream differently.They saw the pain their siblings wrought. They saw mortals pray not for power, but for peace. And their hearts, once hard with dragon pride, began to burn with a gentler fire. So, they turned against their own, and with mortal blades beside their claws, they fought the Chromatic Lords in a war that shattered mountains, drowned empires, and rewrote the balance of the world.
The war was not won, only paused. To this day, in the Drakhaal Mountains, a golden dragon lord and a red tyrant still clash, centuries into a duel that split valleys and turned a volcano into a battlefield. Across the land, ancient dragons still linger, some hidden, some ruling in shadow, some walking among mortals in silence.
But now, the people of the world walk unbound. They build cities on dragon bones. They forge steel in mountain hearts. They pour stories into cups, cast spells from memory, and carry the burden of freedom hard won.
And some say… deep beneath the sands, or far across scorched land, the First Flame still stirs. Not dead. Only dreaming.
Waiting.
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Hello, I'm looking for one Person to join my currently runnning Campaign, we are 3 sessions in and one player just randomly ghosted everyone.
We are an 18+ plus group of now 4 Players and me the DM from different countries in the EU. I run a mix of 2024 and 2014 rules, sort of picking the best out of both.
For the campaign, I have created my own Homebrew world, with lore to uncover, my own pantheon of gods and plenty more stuff.
We play weekly on Fridays at 8PM CET. Also if possible be a fan of arcane casters, that is what the group is lacking ^^
This friday we have a One-shot, so perfect for introductions :)
If your interested just dm me here or add me on Discord: Fowlfighter
And here is a small story about the Creation of a part of my world.
The Tale of the World Born on a Dragon's Head
Long ago, before time wore a name, there was a dragon so vast its wings eclipsed the sun, and its breath could shatter mountains not yet born. Its body coiled around the sky, and its hunger stirred the stars. It had no name, for no mortal tongue could bear its weight, but the oldest dragons call it Vorrakthuun, the First Flame Unending. The gods, seeing the world’s birth stolen by its shadow, whispered to one another in horror. And so, they chose a single champion, a radiant figure forged of celestial flame and stormlight. The champion fell from the heavens like a sword hurled by creation itself and struck down the beast in a roar that carved oceans and cracked the sky. Where Vorrakthuun’s head fell, a land took shape, the continent of Ialaris, formed from bone, ash, and divine fury. The mountain ranges are his horns. The volcanoes, his teeth. The rivers, the memory of his blood.
In time, dragons filled the world, born from the corpse of the First Flame. Some were seared in shadow and greed, the Chromatic Broods, cruel and glorious in their rage. Others glimmered with wisdom and honor, the Metallic Kin, quieter and fewer. For an age, the dragons ruled. They scorched skies, raised cities of bone, and shackled the smaller peoples, the elves, dwarves, humans, halflings, and all others who dared to crawl across their world.
But the gods had not forgotten their creation. And the Metallic Kin began to dream differently. They saw the pain their siblings wrought. They saw mortals pray not for power, but for peace. And their hearts, once hard with dragon pride, began to burn with a gentler fire. So, they turned against their own, and with mortal blades beside their claws, they fought the Chromatic Lords in a war that shattered mountains, drowned empires, and rewrote the balance of the world.
The war was not won, only paused.
To this day, in the Drakhaal Mountains, a golden dragon lord and a red tyrant still clash, centuries into a duel that split valleys and turned a volcano into a battlefield. Across the land, ancient dragons still linger, some hidden, some ruling in shadow, some walking among mortals in silence.
But now, the people of the world walk unbound.
They build cities on dragon bones.
They forge steel in mountain hearts.
They pour stories into cups, cast spells from memory, and carry the burden of freedom hard won.
And some say… deep beneath the sands, or far across scorched land, the First Flame still stirs.
Not dead.
Only dreaming.
Waiting.