Monstrous Compendium Vol. 1: Spelljammer Creatures
Frozen Sick
D&D Beyond Basic Rules
Basic Rules (2014)
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Monstrous Compendium Vol. 1: Spelljammer CreaturesFrozen SickD&D Beyond Basic RulesBasic Rules (2014)Sign in to view your library & saved favorites.
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"I know but sometimes it feels as though I have to do things on my own." He said, shrugging.
"Hmm. Perhaps." He said and fixes his mask "What is going to try and rob from the caravan?"
"O-Oh! Thank you so much!" He beams happily "You look gorgeous!"
The Brand laughs "Have fun you two, I have to go and have a talk with your wife."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*shhhhh*
She smells the scent of flowers, freshly blooming suddenly waft around her.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Riotan would have preferred that I wallow in overindulgence, I think. I'm glad I chose this instead."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She gets up, curious, trying to see if she can figure out where its coming from.
“The spell is called toll the dead. It invokes a sound-based magical attack that drains vitality.”
“Which ones, then?”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*Cut for Wendi.*
“That’s okay, but you’re doing everything on your own, if you keep doing this, you’ll be carrying burdens you can’t.” He squints, seemingly thinking about something.
“Anything they can get, apparently they are easy targets, women and children who escaped some kind of crisis.”
She rolls his shoulder sensually “Now, where are we goin’ ta eat sweetheart?” She asks.
Sparrow tries to say something, but the Sister latch his mouth shut, trying to take Rosemary, the weapon burning their hands on contact.
*Hey guys, I'm gonna go for a bit.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
"Doesn't change what's going to happen, though."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Seeming both curious and sad, she looks for whatever location is listed on the letter, if any.
"Wonderful!" She pauses for a moment, thinking of something. "Say, I've been curious about how you put this all together so quickly. Would I be correct to assume it involves... I believe you called it 'unobtanium' or something similar?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
She writes that down “Interesting, I have limited magic channeling abilities, please, lead the way.”
“Sparrow Valentine.”
*see you around! :)*
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
“I agree.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
*See ya, I’m probably gonna head out too, I’ll be back later though.*
“The thing about wizardry is that it’s derived from an understanding of patterns within magical energy flow around you. In that way it mimics psionics, but comes more from direct order than synchronization.”
“Well… I want Stroth to be happy, don’t I? And he’s gonna help me take out some rival demons too.”
No news is good news…
I'll lay a white rose on the cold earth, knowing it that it has not claimed your soul.
Right here, right now. The feast is set up outside the tavern, and it will double as the feast for the funeral if people want that.
He nods. "This entire place is a dream. A very real dream, but still a dream. I can alter anything I choose, and even make materials that don't exist. It's boring to be a god, but on the bright side I'm only really a god down here. Everywhere else I'm barely a ghost."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Apologies for the delay*
Omori fades into the shadows and reemerges near where the feast is being set up, a somber look on her face.
She takes a few notes on her notepad. "How did you learn to do all this?" She inquires, very much curious.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*i don’t really have any chars except taika, but I think kk and him might have a brainwave together. They both make humanoid constructs, after all*
I'm Fry, a doodler, writer, aspiring singer/songwriter, and sort-of youtuber (check me out!) goofin' around on the interwebs
Soli Deo Gloria(Sed servus eius crustulum vult)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, dumpster fire, and somewhat of a clown, but I do my best :3
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, undead cutie pie, danganer of ronpas, and certified silly goose
Internet big sib to aspeninthetrees, TheGatoLover, (and hopefully more)
Felix died today.
He tripped while moving to pour some champagne, and got his skull crushed by a drunk driver's horse. The driver is crying with many of the townsfolk, desperately trying to apologize to anyone who will listen.
The food is beginning to get cold. The sun shines overhead, but it doesn't bring much warmth.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Just introing a character. A member of the Crimson court.*
The smell of blood most pungent fills the air, a slight crimson mist settling as a wagon rides into town silently. The horse at first appear regular, along with the wagon driver, though as they look farther they seem to become more bizarre, as if they have some kind of mandibles or fangs, drenched in blood, but those only come in flashes.
The wagon stops in front of the Inn, one of the side doors opening, the smell of blood becoming even greater as a result, a woman of sophisticated nature walks out, her large black dress contrasting her moonlight pale skin, her hands calmly clasped together. An eerie feeling follows her, the feeling of approaching death, the wagon leaving soon as it arrived.