Daeseraya said I should tell at least some of this to someone else. Not sure why he was so insistent, it isn't like writing it down will change anything or help anyone, but he won't let it go until I do, so I guess I should start off with Ayehi, I'm Daisy Le Fey. That last part isn't because anyone I know or came from was named Le Fey, it is because my dad was out of the Skydancer Commune in Lyonese, and my mom's home base was Sibola when she wasn't out on the seven seas, and there in Sibola there's a law that says all of us halflings with elfin parents have to be named Le Fey because people seem to think we have the same problems the elfin folks do. Kinda why I moved to Durango, in a way.
I can say that at no time in my life has my temper ever gotten out of hand, and I can say that where others might not, since I'm a Reeve and I work for the Agency. I know, I know, not exactly a glamorous job for real, but folks like to make out like we are all some kind of special badass. One woman armies able to take on two dozen men and win the day. All I'm gonna say to that is if I could actually do that, I would have gone into the Grand Games. Definitely pays better.
So, this is it. Top floor of three, and it ain't much, but it is home. The fireplace doesn't always get clogged up and send smoke from below into the place, and I at least have a window that looks out on a street instead of the courtyard. I do not need to see old lady mellin's backside while she bakes bread every day. I get teased down at the office for having a decent spread of my own, but she's like three of me in every direction, and Ogres seem to me to be more a danger than some half breed Elf.
The smell isn't too bad, either -- those cesspit laws are kinda important, and the dungsweeps are better here than some of the richer areas. Day's pretty big on personally enforcing those. I tend to be more about the rougheer stuff. Though with more and more of those carriages around, I think we'll see fewer and fewer of the horses that keep the sweepers busy. Not too much, mind you, the cost of a horse still isn't close to the cost of one of those magical contraptions.
You can sit down over there. Yep, I got two chairs. Came from my mom. She said they are real Teakwood, made in Aztlan, and took two months of her personal storage space to ship them here after winning them in a card game. The cushions are newer -- I sewed them and stuffed them with some wool i got cheap out by one of the villages. Comfy, right?
Let me get out of this armor and into something a bit lighter. Oh, and don't touch the blades. I am still working on those. Relics of my adventuring days, short as they were. Water's inthe pitcher there -- Jene brings it up three times a day, and she should be here with my bread for the day in a bit.
That? I used to track my travels, when I was a lot less busy. So I made maps. Back when I was a member of the adventurer's guild, i would get asked to join groups because I could make a map. Nothing fancy. No, really -- the Palace has some mapmakers that are more artist than anything. You can see the edge of the Journey Tower from my window if you lean far enough out.
There, that's better. Ok, so, where should I start? Well, I suppose it was the day that I came across a couple of the Skythe syndicate's boys dumping a body in the cesspit over by Quarterrun and Hostel. I knew one of them, a nervous moke that has a face like a moll after a bad date name of Helkin. I had crossed with him three, four years back as a new Reeve, and was a lot more forgiving then. You know, that thing about us being the judge, jury, and executioner is real, right? There's only five of us for all of Durango, though, and we don't do regular crimes like the watch does.
No, our charge comes from the Agency, and we have to follow the Old Laws, all thirty something of them. One of which is killing, of course, and so I took a moment and asked these boys if they might maybe have been the reason the people became corpses that they were dumping. I was nice about it. Leaned against the gate post and smiled, arms crossed, all non-threatening.
Now, I know I am all of five and half feet, and l look more like a Syndic's Moll than a Reeve, but I wear the star tabard, and I earned my way in just like all the others. I keep my pretty face by being good enough to do so. These two mokes were not good enough to do that, and seeing me the big one asked what business it was of mine.
"Darse, she's a Reeve." said Helkin, all bard whisper like he was on some stage.
"Don't look like no Reeve to me, Helkin." Now, I feel pretty sure that Darse was at least some kinda Ogre, but he didn't have that green skin or eyes or hair you see them with, not even a hint, so I guess he was just grown extra big. Had at least a hundred pounds and a good foot on me. Strong Imperial stock, not like my Thally.
But I am half elfin, and I got a bit more oomph than it looks and a lot more dance than people think, and while it took a couple minutes, he was a head shorter and half as handsy, and sweet Helkin was looking at having part of his sentence being moving the oaf. The rest, I explained, was going to involve throwing himself in the pit, and saving me the paperwork, or talking to the Watch, and we all know what Syndic Skythe would think of that.
Either way, he was a dead man and I wouldn't have to wash more off my armor. Custom stuff. Bought it with some funds from a find in a village out near Antilia. Fandelver or something. Mining place near Arendale. Sorry, sidetracked. I just am really proud of that armor.
Now, Helkin, he wasn't real keen on his options and suggested maybe I take a look at who he and his buddy had been tossing, while swearing that while sure, the big guy had been involved int he killing, he was just a small time hoodlum, and only got the dirt jobs. At least, ever since he was busted by yours truly.
Given I'd had a talk with Syndic Skythe late one night after that event, I was inclined to believe him. A girl can't jump to too many conclusions, but sometimes they are more a hop or a skip than a jump, and this was an easy one. Especially since I could pay another visit to Garik, the Syndic Skythe. He still hadn't put in wards like I told him to do.
The first one I got a good look at -- the corpses, I mean, the bodies -- changed a lot of my thinking right away. She was Debora Silvaretti. An Envoy working for both the Durango branch of House Ford and the Ford Syndicate. Good work if you can get it, though the two branches don't always see eye to eye. Except on the carriages, of course.
Ol' Deb was an operator. Envoys aren't to be messed with, not with them turning to shadow and being known more as assassins than diplomats, and I had worked with Deb a time or two back during those Syndic Wars in the south ward. She'd been gutted like a fish, and her face was still stuck in a scream, so I knew it had to have happened fast.
That big guy might have been something, but neither he nor Helkin could ever have taken on Deb. Hell, I'm not sure I could, even with another Reeve as backup, and I get called in to help with them.
"Darse said it was a devil what did it. All seven of them. And Garik, him was bossing it."
Now see, back when, I trained with a Paladin who served Antelle. No, I ain't cut out for being a paladin, though he sure thought so. I'm just a simple girl, and while I didn't apprentice him, I paid attention, because if you ever have to fight a demon or devil, you want a paladin. They got things they can do for that. I was more a wanderer sort, and fell in with a bunch of secretive folks. What did I do? I was a Messenger. Nomad subguild. Yeah, the weird ones. S'why I quit and became a Reeve instead after a few years. But I can still get a message from one place to another, and damn all that lies between.
Problem is, Devil's are already damned, and I only had theory about infernal denizens.
"You see it?" I asked. He shook his greasy head, and turned over a few more. " You already toss the guts?"
"No, Ma'am," he said nearly pissing himself. At least, I think that's what he was doing, given how he was shaking. It wasn't that cold. The cesspit had barely begun to ice back up. And while he didn't do much, he did exercise a little in trying to shorten my lifetime. "They says the Devil ate them."
That fit. Devils tended to be fond of flesh. Demons of everything but. "You know they'll feed you to it if you go back, right? Loose ends are not a specialty of Skythe."
Helkin had not realized that, and explained such under his breath at length. I let him get it out of his blood until he looked back at me, head canted down and to the side.
"There ain't no way out, is there?"
I've seen a lot of folks who have lost things, Tawmis. Lives, jobs, kids, spouses, hopes, dreams. I was taught that loss leads to grief, that grief leads to the discord, that sets one outside the harmony. Yeah, the Nomads messed me up. You'd think they were Bards the way they carry on about music stuff. "Music of the spheres", my left tit.
The rarest kind of loss is everything. That moment when someone who has spent their entire life thinking there is always a way, always an angle, always a chance, always a co or a job oor that last break that you just no is coming around the corner. The loss of optimism. Helkin's face just went gray and the spark in the deepest part of his eyes went out. Kicked puppies got more spunk than he had right then. He told a story without moving or speaking, a tale of someone who the world had just swallowed, folded, spindled, and mutilated before crapping them back out again to start once more, like giving a pat on the head.
I knew that look. It was why I left. Why I became a Reeve.
I should have just cut him down then. Or been merciful and turned him over to the watch. I knew that anything else was passing a problem on down the line to another day and another person because Helkin wasn't the type to stop breaking the law. But the law works for everyone, including him, and in that moment, I just knew I wasn't going to be able to do my job right.
"There's another way. But there is a price you'll have to pay."
"If it ain't my life, it's worth it." Smart words. Most valuable thing you have is your life.
"You'll have to never break the law again. Go honest." I told him straight.
"It ain't like breaking them ever done me much good given where I am, huh?"
I shook my head and agreed privately, then dug a Sovereign out of my purse and held it up. "This will get you on a ship tonight if you go to pier seven and ask at The Momma Duck and say you are a duckling. There will be enough left over for you to pay your guildwage and escrow wherever they take you. You'll have to learn a trade."
"My poppa was a mason. I guess I still 'member some." His eyes started to shine again.
"If I give this to you, and I see you in Durango ever again, and I will be looking, I will kill you on sight." I flipped it at him. You should know, I meant every word.
It was just a spark, not a light, after all, but it was enough to get him scrambling over the bodies and out the gate and he even went the right direction.
Sometimes all you need to do is give someone a chance no one else ever gave them. That one gold coin was worth two years of apprenticeship for him.
I'm an incarnate, you see. I was still born here and all that, but my soul, my self, the stuff that makes me me -- all of that came from a different world, and one that is outside the Cycle. I had been a man there, a janitor, and I died one day and woke up a baby girl that could remember all her life before. Still have them, but I grew up here and I've been living here thirty some odd years and this ain't anything like where I was before.
No one ever gave that chance to me back then. In another life.
I looked down at the bodies and knew I was in trouble because all the bodies were movers and shakers in the Ford Syndic and House, and one of them was a ringer for a Reeve I had known when I was training up. Kemet wasn't the worst by any means, but he wanted to do the dirtiest work, the sneaky stuff, and if he was who I stared into the cold, dead eyes of, then we had a bigger problem than I could handle by myself.
The Devil had come to Durango, and he was planning on fighting the Law.
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities .-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-. An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more. Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
Daeseraya said i should tell at least some of this to someone else. Not sure why he was so insistent, it isn't like writing it down will change anything or help anyone, but he won't let it go until I do, so I guess I should start off with Ayehi, I'm Daisy Le Fey. That last part isn't because anyone I know or came from was named LE Fey, it is because my dad was out of the Skydancer Commune in Lyonese, and my mom's home base was Sibola when she wasn't out on the seven seas, and there in Sibola there's a law that says all of us halflings with elfin parents have to be named Le Fey because people seem to think we have the same problems the elfin folks do. Kinda why I moved to Durango, in a way.
I can say that at no time in my life has my temper ever gotten out of hand, and I can say that where others might not, since I'm a Reeve and I work for the Agency. I know, I know, not exactly a glamorous job for real, but folks like to make out like we are all some kind of special badass. One woman armies able to take on two dozen men and win the day. ALl I'm gonna say to that is if I could actually do that, I would have gone into the Grand games. Definitely pays better.
So, this is it. Top floor of three, and it ain't much, but it is home. The fireplace doesn't always get clogged up and send smoke from below into the place, and i at least have a window that looks out on a street instead of the courtyard. I do not need to see old lady mellin's backside while she bakes bread every day. I get teased down at the office for having a decent spread of my own, but she's like three of me in every direction, and Ogres seem to me to be more a danger than some half breed Elf.
The smell isn't too bad, either -- those cesspit laws are kinda important, and the dungsweeps are better here than some of the richer areas. Day's pretty big on personally enforcing those. I tend to be more about the rougheer stuff. Though with more and more of those carriages around, I think we'll see fewer and fewer of the horses that keep the sweepers busy. Not too much, mind you, the cost of a horse still isn't close to the cost of one of those magical contraptions.
You can sit down over there. Yep, I got two chairs. came from my mom. She said they are real Teakwood, made in Aztlan, and took two months of her personal storage space to ship the here after winning them in a card game. The cushions are newer -- I sewed them and stuffed them with some wool i got cheap out by one of the villages. Comfy, right?
Let me get out of this armor and into something a bit lighter. Oh, and don't touch the blades. I am still working on those. Relics of my adventuring days, short as they were. Water's inthe pitcher there -- jene brings it up three times a day, and she should be here with my bread for the day in a bit.
That? I used to track my travels, when I was a lot less busy. So I made maps. Back when I was a member of the adventurer's guild, i would get asked to join groups because I could make a map. Nothing fancy. No, really -- the Palace has some mapmakers that are more artist than anything. You can see the edge of the Journey Tower from my window if you lean far enough out.
THere, that's better. ok, so, where should I start? Well, I suppose it was the day that I cam across a couple of the Skythe syndicate's boys dumping a body in the cess pit over by Quarterrun and Hostel. I knew one of them, a nervous one that has a face like a moll after a bad date named Helkin. I had crossed with him three, four years back as a new Reeve, and was a lot more forgiving then. You know, that thing about us being the judge, jury, and executioner is real, right? There's only five of us for all of Durango, though, and we don't do regular crimes like the watch does.
No, our charge comes from the Agency, and we have to follow the Old Laws, all thirty something of them. One of which is killing, of course, and so I took a moment and asked these boys if they might maybe have been the reason the people became corpses that they were dumping. I was nice about it. Leaned against the gate post and smiled, arms crossed, all non-threatening.
Now, I know I am all of five and half feet, and l look more like a Syndic's Moll than a Reeve, but I wear the star tabard, and I earned my way in just like all the others. I keep my pretty face by being good enough to do so. These two mokes were not good enough to do that, and seeing me the big one asked what business it was of mine.
"Darse, she's a Reeve." said Helkin, all bard whisper like he was on some stage.
"Don't look like no Reeve to me, Helkin." Now, I feel pretty sure that Darse was at least some kinda Ogre, but he didn't have that green skin or eyes or hair you see them with, not even a hint, so I guess he was just grown extra big. Had at least a hundred pounds and a good foot on me. Strong Imperial stock, not like my thalassen.
But I am half elfin, and I got a bit more oomph than it looks and a lot more dance than people think, and while it took a couple minutes, he was a head shorter and half as handsy, and sweet Helkin was looking at having part of his sentence being moving the oaf. The rest, I explained, was going to involve throwing himself in the pit, and saving me the paperwork, or talking to the Watch, and we all know what Syndic Skythe would think of that.
Either way, he was a dead man and I wouldn't have to wash more off my armor. Custom stuff. Bought it with some funds from a find in a village out near Antilia. Fandelver or something. Mining place near Arendale. Sorry, sidetracked. I just am really proud of that armor.
Now, Helkin, he wasn't real keen on his options and suggested maybe I take a look at who he and his buddy had been tossing, while swearing that while sure, the big guy had been involved int he killing, he was just a small time hoodlum, and only got the dirt jobs. At least, ever since he was busted by yours truly.
Given I'd had a talk with Syndic Skythe late one night after that event, I was inclined to believe him. A girl can't jump to too many conclusions, but sometimes they are more a hop or a skip than a jump, and this was an easy one. Especially since I could pay another visit to Garik, the Syndic Skythe. He still hadn't put in wards like i told him to do.
The first one I got a good look at -- the corpses, I mean, the bodies -- changed a lot of my thinking right away. She was Debora Silvaretti. An Envoy working for both the Durango branch of House Ford and the Ford Syndicate. Good work if you can get it, though the two branches don't always see eye to eye. Except on the carriages, of course.
Ol' Deb was an operator. Envoys aren't to be messed with, not with them turning to shadow and being known more as assassins than diplomats, and I had worked with Deb a time or two back during those Syndic Wars in the south ward.She'd been gutted like a fish, and her face was still stuck in a scream, so I knew it had to have happened fast.
That big guy might have been something, but neither he nor Helkin could ever have taken on Deb. Hell, I'm not sure I could, even with another Reeve as backup, and I get called in to help with them.
"Darse said it was a devil what did it. All seven of them. And Garik, him was bossing it."
Now see, back when, I trained with a Paladin who served Antelle.No, I ain't cut out for being a paladin, though he sure thought so. I'm just a simple girl, and while I didn't apprentice him, I paid attention, because if you ever have to fight a demon or devil, you want a paladin. They got things they can do for that. I was more a wanderer sort, and fell in with a bunch of secretive folks. What did I do? I was a Messenger. Nomad subguild. Yeah, the weird ones. IS why I quit and became a Reeve instead after a few years. But I can still get a message from one place to another, and damn all that lies between.
Problem is, Devil's are already damned, and I only had theory about infernal denizens.
"You see it?" I asked. He shook his greasy head, and turned over a few more. " You already toss the guts?"
"No, Ma'am," he said nearly pissing himself. At least, I think that's what he was doing, given how he was shaking. It wasn't that cold. The cess pit had barely begun to ice back up. And while he didn't do much, he did exercise a little in trying to shorten my lifetime. "They says the Devil ate them."
That fit. Devils tended to be fond of flesh. Demons of everything but. "You know they'll feed you to it if you go back, right? Loose ends are not a specialty of Skythe."
helkin had not realized that, and explained such under his breath at length. I let him get it out of his blood until he looked back at me, head canted down and to the side.
"There ain't no way out, is there?"
I've seen a lot of folks who have lost things, Tawmis. Lives, jobs, kids, spouses, hopes, dreams. I was taught that loss leads to grief, that grief leads to the discord, that sets one outside the harmony. yeah, the Nomads messed me up. You'd think they were Bards the way they carry on about music stuff. "Music of the spheres", my left tit.
The rarest kind of loss is everything. That moment when someone who has spent their entire life thinking there is always a way, always an angle, always a chance, always a co or a job oor that last break that you just no is coming around the corner. The loss of optimism. Helkin's face just went gray and the spark in the deepest part of his eyes went out. Kicked puppies got more spunk than he had right then. He told a story without moving or speaking, a tale of someone who the world had just swallowed, folded, spindled, and mutilated before crapping them back out again to start once more, like giving a pat on the head.
I knew that look. It was why I left. Why I became a Reeve.
I should have just cut him down then. Or been merciful and turned him over to the watch. I knew that anything else was passing a problem on down the line to another day and another person because Helkin wasn't the type to stop breaking the law. But the law works for everyone, including him, and in that moment, I just knew I wasn't going to be able to do my job right.
"There's another way. But there is a price you'll have to pay."
"If it ain't my life, it's worth it." Smart words. Most valuable thing you have is your life.
"You'll have to never break the law again. Go honest."
"It ain't like breaking them ever done me much good given where I am, huh?"
I shook my head and agreed privately, then dug a Sovereign out of my purse and held it up. "This will get you on a ship tonight if you go to pier seven and ask at The Momma Duck and say you are a duckling. There will be enough left over for you to pay your guildwage and escrow wherever they take you. You'll have to learn a trade."
"My poppa was a mason. I guess I still member some." His eyes started to shine again.
"If I give this to you, and I see you in Durango ever again, and I will be looking, I will kill you on sight." I flipped it at him.
It was just a spark, not a light, after all, but it was enough to get him scrambling over the bodies and out the gate and he even went the right direction.
Sometimes all you need to do is give someone a chance no one else ever gave them. That one gold coin was worth two years of apprenticeship for him.
I'm an incarnate, you see. I was still born here and all that, but my soul, my self, the stuff that makes me me -- all of that came from a different world, and one that is outside the Cycle. I had been a man there, a janitor, and I died one day and woke up a baby girl that could remember all her life before. Still have them, but I grew up here and I've been living here thirty some odd years and this ain't anything like where I was before.
No one ever gave that chance to me back then. In another life.
I looked down at the bodies and knew I was in trouble because all the bodies were movers and shakers in the Ford Syndic and House, and one of them was a ringer for a Reeve I had known when I was training up. Kemet wasn't the worst by any means, but he wanted to do the dirtiest work, the sneaky stuff, and if he was who I stared intot he old, dead eyes of, then we had a bigger problem than I could handle by myself.
The Devil had come to Durango, and he was planning on fighting the Law.
Too bad I didn't have beginner's luck...
shall I do more?
Wow! That was good! As an English major and prospective author, I feel it is my duty to throw in some writing of my own!
In a modern day campaign, would you ally with a group of pro undeath rights zombies lead by a chaotic good banshee?
i wouldn't, personally, but I am sure there are some very fine unpeople there.
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Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities .-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-. An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more. Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
Daisy is, very much, a product of the Wyrlde. She's a 7th level Nomad -- sorta like what you get if you cross The Jedi with all of our secret Societies like the illuminati and freemasons and such, and then put them to work fighting weird ass stuff from what would be a split up Plane of Shadows. Monks fight nightmares Nomads fight the rest.
Weird format for it, I know, but I want to tell it like a story one throws at you, not like something written down. It is a hard dive into the world as a whole, so a little heavy on exposition for me, but that's not likely to change. No clue what the third act will be like, but that's half the fun of it...
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities .-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-. An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more. Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
OK - first, that's awesome that my madness inspired you to create this! This is great - and yes, please do more! While I do plan to wrap up whatever it is I've been doing (no idea where I am going with it, still, it's always been a "I am bored and need to write something before I go mad!" - and not anything I have planned at all). Second, yes, please, please continue adding to the story you've created! #FeedCreativty
Dayesera is the Marshal for all of Durango, and if'n ya ask me, he's got the worst posting one can get. But it runs in his family, including my bestie who tells me I have to tell you all of this.
Dead people are important, Don't let anyone try and tell you they aren't when we have statues and steles raised to them and folks still spend a dozen pence to pay for the funeral rites from some Shrineward or Cleric. What they can be said about, however, is they can wait. They are dead, and afte getting the watch over to haul the bodies out of the space around the cesspit, I headed over to the office.
We don't get a barracks, don't have much pay, even if it is better than most, and we don't have to put up with much -- those are the benefits. The downside is that the office is a room big enough for seven desks, five holding cells, three chairs, and I always want to mention the parrot in the dead tee that sits next to Nala's desk. I always thought that Hyborians were savage animals, but having a Panther work with you -- and one that is shorter than you are by a foot -- has taught me a lot about them. Nothing about why a full grown Panther Therian would keep a pet Parrot, but among the things I have learned are you never pat them on the head, you never call them cute, and you never think of them as any less civilized.
Also, they make these weird flatbreads that are amazing in curry. And there's Jene with the fresh pitcher and the bread. I can send her out for something from one of the stalls int he market if you'd like, This is going to take a bit. Okay, preferences? Oh, that sounds good. One moment.
I might give the old lady a ration for butt crack, but she does make damn fine bread, and she only takes two bits for it. Butter's in the counter crock. We'll have some of that derby wine later. So, where was I? Oh, yeah, the office.
I snagged a chair from behind Nala's desk and dragged it to my own, then stared filling out the paperwork that seems to be our reason for living in the Reeves. I am an honest Reeve, and included the bit about Helkin in it. Might seem strange that we have to write everything down every day. It isn't like anyone reads it -- except that I was there when an Auditor came through, and that weird old dude did in fact read everything. Seven years worth of stuff in like one day, ad then he asked questions of everyone about all of it for the rest of the week before he poof up and vanished. I think the real folks who watch the Agency are the Powers. Ever wonder why you never hear about what happens to Reeves who go bad?
No, no, there are plenty of bad Reeves. Most just don't last after an Auditor comes through. They vanish. Preston Kant was a bad Reeve. Let the power go to his head and tried a graft operation and there he was all high and mighty on Hearth Day and Faith day he's nowhere. So I do my reports and I do them right. I've been a Reeve for five years now. Adventurer for five years before that. And I apprenticed as a Messenger. Not bad for a thirty year old, huh? My Mom spent thirty years on her boats, could track a river or coastline by the smell of the air. I spent most of my younger days on the water with her, and I have to say that the old shack we had for during the worst of the winter when we got stuck without a load was still a damn sight better than that office is. You've seen it. Just boards put up on a frame. Hot as hell in summer, cold as the abyss in winter, and if they stop the wind at all, I can't tell.
But I did my report, and then I waxed it and set it on Day's desk, and then went home.
I got to the second floor landing, the one right out there, when the first guy came at me. I admit, I wasn't thinking right, my head still in the report, and I should have been thinking about what it all meant. I had word that a Syndic was ruining a Devil and i had taken out two of his guys and Garik and I already had a history. I don't think Helkin ratted me out, I think there was supposed to be another member of that crew and I missed him and set myself up for a chance run in with Garik's response to my suggestion of improving his security.
On the other hand, the smart move would have been to wait for me in here. There's no locks. I've got a ward ont he chest and stuff, but otherwise, this is where I would have been most relaxed, even if I wasn't expecting things.
I took a good hit or two before I was able to turn the tide. There were five of them, and they pushed me back down to the first landing , leaving two of their team smoking to do it, and by then I was pretty much done with this and flung the others up and over my head. Tuckered me out, but if there is one thing being a messenger does for you, it is that you learn how to get out of tight spots. I broke a knife, though. That's why it's on the bench over there. Had it reforged, but now I have to do a few things, like getting a greenschine crystal for it.
I'm proud of not having to use those old skills as a messenger, though. It was only five guys and that narrow staircase. I should have done better, and even if I was bleeding, I could have drawn them out into the street. At least, that's what I thought I could have done, but it turns out that was the plan all along, as I found out when I rushed the bunch of them in a rage, lightning crackling around me.
Yeah, I got some magic. Ain't like the Witches or Wizards, but it does me a spell in those tight places. I was doing my little dance ad shouting my invocation and I stepped into the main entry to let loose a bit of thunder and like every fool who ever walked into a trap I had a moment to notice the carriage parked out front with crossbows sticking out the windows before lights out from the side. I was so caught up in the spell that I didn't catch the movement out of the corner of my eye. Choked me out, the spell fizzled, and i was out for the night a bit early, with no real reason to think I was going to wake up on this world again. I figured I was bound for the Cycle for sure. Given the way I did this life, I figure Perdition, maybe Limbo.
You can imagine my thoughts when I woke up and saw a bit of Hell.
You know the butcheries on the edge of the city? No? Well, this is Durango. We are the pig chopping up capital of the world, right here, and they kill so many pigs in a week there that they have barrels of pig blood. Just stacked up. Some they ship off to Akadia for the Mages, but most of it is just going to go into fertilizer for the fields to grow the stuff that they feed the pigs anyway. And let me tell you, it stinks. I fought in a pitched battle against goblins, and the smell was infinitely preferable. It is why I hate going there. Nala doesn't mind, so she does a lot of tours through there, since the Guild house is there and we think the GUild Lord is forgetting the difference between people and pigs when it comes to how he treats them.
Well, I should say I used to hate it, but what woke me up was far, far worse. I was upside down, my head just beneath the ceiling of a large room with no door, just a big ole round hole in the top that I was being lowered into. That room was painted with offal and blood and people dung and I was pretty sure that I was going to be adding to that mess. People dead stink. People dead for a while plus the body odor of a Devil is why I vomited and some of it went in my nose.
Upside down, you see. Wasn't sure if drowning in my own puke or the devil would be worse. I was trussed like an Imp prize, of course, but they hadn't gagged me and I could still hear fine, so hearing roaring laughter from the direction of my feet was a bit unnerving. And really bad for my rep as a badass Reeve and all that.
"Why hello again, Daisy. Such a lovely flower to have delivered to me. Boys, you shouldn't have."
Garik was not known for bringing in the sharpest knives. "Uh, Boss, but you said..."
"I know what I said!" Garik shouted before making a visible effort to calm himself down. I zeroed in on the dark spot his voice was coming from.
"Well, I suppose this is one way to get my attention, Syndic. Not that you needed to. I was planning on coming to you soon anyway." I doubt that the words had the effect I had hoped for, what with puke runnign down my face and getting in my hair, and a softly chuckling devil somewhere beneath that.
At least he found it funny. And it was a he, no doubt. Lady devils don't have a voice like the pit. They sound more like a screeching banshee. Told you I paid attention.
"I am afraid this is the sum total of our time together, You have other matters you will be attended to shortly."
"What, you mean the scary guy in the dark hole that can't leave a little circle you put him in?" I really tried to sound nonchalant. "Meh. I'm not a Marshall yet, but I'm in line." That was a total lie. But he didn't know that.
Marshall's are like Reeves on Ambrosia. Possibly literally. I once watched Day lift a horse in a sling by himself. How does one get that strong? I have to work out every night for two hours just to be able to lift a mark and a half. A typical horse is almost ten marks.
"Your banter is much better this time, Daisy." The way he said my name made me think he stomped on flowers for happy.
"I don't usually banter when I have a knife to a man's balls, Garik. What do you want?"
"Your head on a pike."
"Granted." Said the sepulchral voice from beyond my head. I swear, I think he was playing with my ponytail. Batting it back and forth. I could feel it.
"No offense, either of you, but I am sort of attached to it right now. More importantly, you do realize that this will only make things worse for you. A Syndicate killing a Reeve is grounds for erasure of that Syndicate. And Days kinda likes me."
I was jerked up. And by up, I mean towards my feet. I was getting a little loopy just swinging there. My hair stopped moving on its own.
"They would have to know about you first, Daisy."
"I stumble across a bunch of corpses and a story about a summoned denizen under the thumb of Skythe Syndicate and you don't think I wrote that report out before going home? You don't think that I pointed out how those corpses were Ford peoples, do you?"
Someone moved above me, and past my feet I saw the hook that the rope was run through to suspend me over the pit. I still couldn't make out face, just shapes, because it was dark and the light was all behind them and to my right. Remember what I told you about Messengers. Well, about Nomads, really. We are good at three things. Getting the package through. Getting out of tight spots. And getting through obstacles if we have a blade we've made.
I didn't have a blade on me, but I had one near me, because I could sense it. And now that I could see the hook, I had one small chance that might not work if I couldn't maintain the willpower long enough. I had been planning to pull Garik down with me, the noble heroic sacrifice and all, but this was a different chance. Magic requires folks to be able to move and to speak. If they are doing a ritual, they have to have odd materials and other stuff. But Nomads, we use magic a different way. Or at least, some of us do. There are others who do weird stuff without magic. But my kind, the messenger kind, we take our mana and we turn in inwards, and then we let it pass through us into the world around us. Mana is some potent stuff. Most Reeves are former adventurers. because a lot of them learn a thing or two about magic along the way. I don't like to use it. All those lights and sparkles and flashes and stuff, they annoy me, but there are three things we all learn. The first is to move things with our ind. It had been a long time since I had tried to move something that weighed as much as me. At least they had take that off me when I was out. I am certain it would have been too much, because that stuff is like thirty more pounds, and soaking wet I top out at 140.
What? You think this long ass hair is light? Or these muscles?
I took a deep breath and tuned whatever it was Garik was saying out, centering myself in a way I hadn't done in half a decade. Big difference between using Move to throw some guys down stairs and using it to move yourself up. But I needed to use that hook as an anchor. Using the Vibe is a humming ting, one that few folks ever realize is going on because to most people it seems to be tuneless. Bards get it, but don't always know why. It isn't like a Song, it is more physical, more deep down in your bones, more about the beating of your heart and the rushing of your blood, and mine was all going to the place I used it the least, I guess, because I was in a hole wrapped in rope and Baal was waiting for his personal snack.
Ok, it wasn't the Prince himself, but its an expression.
And then I started to hum.th Vibe starts deep in the chest, right in the gut, and you bring it up and out until you are moving to the Vibe of the universe or some mystical crap like that. I mean, I know, but then I would have to kill you if I told you and like I said, honest Reeve. Thankfully, Garik and his goons were just droning on about how they were going to still kill me and get away with it because they would be gone or some other kind of thing, but I didn't care, because I was linking me with the big ass hook in the ceiling joist up thee about fifteen feet away from my feet, and also working on how to get this rope undone or wriggle out. And thankfully, I was managing both. I couldn't pick a pocket to save a life, but I can bend in ways that hurt to see. Tight spaces.
Something else Vibed.
I paid attention. I really did. But at no time did anyone, anywhere, tell me that Devils could Vibe. I mean, okay, yeah, they are the children of the Powers that Be and all that, so it probably shouldn't be a surprise, but holy cow, that was so not the right thing, and the bastard denizen was better at it than I was. I got my arms free to the elbows, and that hurt, but I was able to see if they had missed any of the smaller blades, A dagger, maybe. No, but I could touch my butt. And the wall in front of my nose if I bent. But I wasn't moving up, I was moving down, so slowly, and were the ropes loosening? The Devil was vibing with me and the ropes, I was Vibing with me and the hook, and I needed a distraction. I swear I couldn't think of anything else.
Please, Tawmis, understand, I didn't really have a choice. Not if I wanted to live, and I may not have made it clear, but Deb was a friend. I owed her justice.
So I stopped anchoring witht eh hook and snatched one of the goons instead. I am pretty sure he was dead in the first five feet, because I head a bone snap after his head struck a way at an angle, and then he bounced me around as he tumbled bonelessly into the darkness beyond my forehead.
Devils may eat us, but they gain the most from corrupting us. From pushing us into the dark places, from forcing us to do things we would never do because they hurt others, they are evil, malicious. It makes us sweeter. Innocence means nothing to a devil beyond sour milk and spoiled meat, really. And not just us. They get it from hags and wraiths, vampires and trolls, anything that can think and is capable of being corrupted and eaten.
And at that moment, I think I became a bit sweeter, because I pulled that man down. From the sounds that followed, he was plenty sweet already, but that didn't make my action more bearable. At least, not to me. And as he gave his life for mine, I kept humming and snagged that anchor again, and zoom, up I went before the Syndicate boys even had a chance to get over the guy who "fell" into the hole.
Cups empty? Here, let me show you. Yes, that's me moving the pitcher, No, I didn't do a chant and wave my arms around or glow. See? No manifestation. This is still magic -- it is like using raw magic. There you go. Moving things outside ourselves is easy, for varying degrees of easy. I mean, if I can lift it, then no biggie, and usually it is easier to get up and do it We all have different levels of mana we can store, anyway, and I am not that great at it, so I tire easily. Heavier things ar suppos3d to be just as easy in theory, but in prac5ice we kinda get in in our own way. So, yeah, hader. But above and beyond that, there is moving ourselves. TO move things, we need to become one with them, and so it is hard to do things to ourselves. I mean, I can do it, but the Masters? Hell, they can move entire ships and give themselves an extra boost. I can do it too, and often do, like jumping down from a roof or up a story. If I get about seven feet of lift, a Grand Master can get about twenty.
I burned through a lot of mana right then. As I swung out over the floor, the ropes coming loose, and dropped into a crouch, I was wobbly and seeing double, seriously fatigued fro just that, but I was also facing Garik and some of his guys, and my weapons were on the other side of the room.
I called one of my knives. I use big knives, you noticed. Trickier than a short sword, not as long, but pretty much the same kind of movement. My preferred is two knives. Here, let me show you.
This is a Doradan Bowan knife. Sixteen inches long, single edged, serration on the back side, broad blade, thick and sturdy. My Mom said that this was how I got made, because she and my dad met at an inn and talked about their knives. Really.
But this is a special knife. It has a crystal deep in the hilt. Now, watch. Cool, huh? It is a manifestation of my willpower and my mana. takes a bit of time, but I can cut through bone, stone, and wood with it. Masters can cut through metal. Takes more mana, though. Mine include a good chunk of orikal in the alloy, so I can store up mana in them. Anyway, so I pulled my knife to me just I like i did that one, and I wrapped it, and I knew I was going to have to get out of there fast, because I was about to pass out from using too much mana. Having been unconscious I didn't have any spells in my head, and Vibing ain't exactly low on power use, so I was in a world of hurt, and I think that's enough for tonight.
Tomorrow I'll tell you how I got out of there.
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Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities .-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-. An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more. Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
In a modern day campaign, would you ally with a group of pro undeath rights zombies lead by a chaotic good banshee?
I've yet to check out the original comic, but the tv show iZombie was pretty cool and you're basically talking about the later season's arcs. So, sure.
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Jander Sunstar is the thinking person's Drizzt, fight me.
In a modern day campaign, would you ally with a group of pro undeath rights zombies lead by a chaotic good banshee?
I've yet to check out the original comic, but the tv show iZombie was pretty cool and you're basically talking about the later season's arcs. So, sure.
Today, with some of the folks who I was DMing for pre-pandemic (in person). We got back together, new game (tossing the old game aside, those characters will become NPCs) because it'd been so long. Everyone made new characters, starting them at Level 3 (since we'd gotten up to level 6 before, but a few of them hadn't played D&D prior to the game that ended due to COVID and has not played any D&D since) - so starting it slow, but with a few levels (and their class specialties picked out). First few sessions (no idea what those will be yet) will be easy combat - get folks back into the flow - before going into the real story (no idea what that is yet either). But so damn excited to play with these folks again in person.
So the new party consists of...
A Dwarven Twilight Cleric (Female)
A Goliath Monk (Way of the Elements) (Female)
A Tabaxi Rogue Soulknife (Male)
A Tiefling Paladin (Redemption) (Female)
Nice rounded party. Already have ideas for their adventures ahead of them!
Be warned - when I write my game notes, I often write them in story format - makes it easier for me (and also keeps the players engaged when they read the recaps)...
So here we go - today's session!
Anathema Haniel – Tiefling Paladin (Oath of Redemption)
Grace Obadiah – Aasimar Cleric (Twilight)
Kasumi Makaio Iolani – Goliath Monk (Way of the Four Elements)
Skrizz – Tabaxi Rogue (Soul Knife)
Two ago, several Churches reported that their gods had gone silent – Airana, goddess of fertility; Akanda, god of travel; Drakenfhel, god of wisdom; Elenar, god of wind, fire and water; Krauzden, god of wind and flight, Lauhzar, goddess of winter, Tavara, goddess of weather, and Tearak, god of judgement – all of them had gone silent. Eventually the clerics confirmed – their gods had perished during a battle in the heavens when Lakrona, Mistress of the Web, ascended. (DM Note – this was the conclusion of a large, 28 session story line, concluding in Session 41!)
While all deities are highly regarded; the death of Airana, whom many called on for favor of fertility… Drakenfiel, the god of Wisdom’s demise, caused mass panic, as Drakenfiel was someone the gods had turned to… and Tearak, the God of Judgement… now souls, slain were caught in the nether realm – their souls unable to be judged…
Churches gathered and discussed what must be done – all of these events all seemed to stem from the far continent.
A year or so after, a white light event happened – and suddenly many were gifted with incredible knowledge and magic – once again, this event triggered back to the far continent of Vareen.
The largest Church, the Church of Florasena had begun collecting some of these relics that were coming from Vareen and studying them with great interest – many of them were ancient and crackling with magical energy. These relics caught the attention of a Tabaxi Rogue named Skrizz, whom the Church had been alerted to by some unknown source, that they were going to be infiltrated by the Tabaxi and had managed to capture him using a magical trap. Skrizz wasn’t taken into custody however; instead, he was brought beneath the Church and kept in their prison and questioned.
Elsewhere in the Church, Grace Obadiah, an Aasimar Twilight Cleric was called into the office of the Archpriest, Brawnstone Dawnslight, a human whose piercing blue eyes were said to be forged from the heavens due to their depth an intensity. Brawnstone explained that he had a vision that Grace was to go to Vareen and seek out more information about these ancient artifacts. He’d done some research and many of them were surfacing in a distant desert called Drastor – and that there were many temples there – and from what he’d gathered by speaking to those whom the Church purchased these artifacts from – the temples were often filled with traps. He explained that she would be taking the Tabaxi Rogue they’d caught a few days ago, Skrizz with her. He explained that the Church offered to “erase the slate” if he agreed to help – and while at first, he seemed disinterested – the mention of treasure, relics and temples garnered the Tabaxi’s interest – and the fact that the Church would be paying for his passage to go with you.
Departing from Bistream on their way to Moontide Port, the duo encountered a lone traveler – a female Tiefling. Grace took note that the Tiefling bore a religious crest on her chest piece, as well as on her armor’s shoulder piece. Grace found it interesting because it was not the symbol of any of the known deities, but rather the Angels who served the deities as messengers. Grace felt that perhaps this was an omen – a sign of the goddess – that, as an Aasimar, she would be put in the path of a Tiefling baring angelic symbols. Grace and Skrizz approached the Tiefling who stood and drew her weapon, explaining she wanted no trouble. Grace assured her that they brought no trouble and meant no trouble. Grace explained that she noticed the angelic markings and was curious about them. The Tiefling introduced herself as Anathema Haniel, but noticed that the last name she’d given – she’d paused on – as if unsure she wanted to share it or perhaps provided a false name. (DM Note – the player was mentioning they may change their last name, so just providing some flavor in the event the last name does change). They sat together and Grace shared the mission that she and Skrizz were on and spoke how perhaps her goddess has put Anathema on her path for a reason. Anathema, searching for who she was, thought that perhaps escaping to a new continent, where she can begin anew – and perhaps truly grow as herself, thought this was a perfect opportunity to do so – especially since Grace explained that as long as Anathema agreed, she would be willing, through the Church, pay for the Tiefling’s passage to Vareen.
When the trio reached Moontide Port they found the small port city, bustling with excitement and would be adventurers, all with their hopes and dreams of finding riches in Vareen and coming back and be set for the rest of their life. Grace explains that the ship they are taking – The Griffon’s Crest – wasn’t due to reach Moontide Port for another two days. She explained she would pay for their rooms and they found – through sheer luck (or, as Grace would say, Florasena’s guidance, an Inn that had several rooms available). It was when the trio met down in the tavern for drinks – though it was mostly full of humans, dwarves and halflings – one figure stuck out above the rest – literally – a goliath slumped over, her massive frame not comfortable. Once again, Grace wondered if this had been divine intervention that the very Inn they found that had, through some miracle spare rooms – would also be the place where a lone goliath stood out to her. Grace stood and headed for the Goliath, and Skrizz who’d already seen this happen with the Tiefling simply rolled his eyes.
Grace spoke with the Goliath who introduced herself as Kasumi Makio Iolani, and that she’d left her tribe in Snowspire Mountains, because she did not approve of their warring and raiding ways. She sought peace and tranquility and set out on her own. She learned to channel the energy of the world known as “Ki Energy” – and noticed an odd shift in the world’s Ki energy two years ago. She’d been tracking it – and discovered the root of it seemed to center on the continent of Vareen – or at least the events that seemed to have ties to it, and that she was going to find a way to get to Vareen – but, had no money for passage since ship captains, well aware of the high demand to go to the new continent were charging outrageous prices. Grace smiled – and explained that it seemed the shift in Ki energy could be tied to the demise of eight deities – as they seemed to have happened at the same time, based on the times each felt it. Grace offered to pay for Kasumi’s passage if the Goliath agreed to go with Grace. Kasumi agreed – and Grace returned to their table with their new companion and introduced her.
After two days, The Griffon’s Crest made port, and the party was introduced to Captain Cass Lightmage.
Captain Cass explains that it will take about two weeks time to reach Vareen – and that they will need to stop at a few islands for a few trades as well as restocking for supplies – because, she sacrificed some of the chambers in the ship normally used for supplies, as “rooms” for desperate adventurers who were willing to be confined in small spaces just to get to Vareen sooner than later, fearful that they might miss out on the treasures being uncovered.
Thankfully, the last of the Church’s money provided to Grace would be used in booking normal rooms aboard the Griffon’s Crest to assure maximum comfort. The ship sails for two days before coming to its first stop at an island called Havar – which is primarily run by dwarves. Captain Cass explains that the ship will be docked here for several hours as she has some leathers to trade with the dwarves for some fine steel weapons and armor, which she then plans to sell to the people in Vareen. The party departs from the ship to see what this town of Dwarves has to offer. Grace wanders into Twostone’s Steel, a weapon shop run by a dwarf named Daz Twostone. Grace explains that the Church had sent her off with a light cross bow and she was hoping to find something with a little more “punch” to it. She spoke to Daz, and explained that she’d also need to use a shield – Daz explained she’d be better off with a hand crossbow – doesn’t pack that punch she wants – but it’d allow her to freely use a shield. She offered to trade her own light crossbow and paid very little for the hand crossbow. Kasumi would also head for Twostone’s Steel, but would wait for Grace to finish – as these buildings were all built for dwarves, and standing at seven feet tall, going inside such buildings proved difficult for Kasumi. She asked if Daz had a quarterstaff that she could use – and he explained that he could forge two of them together at the steel tip and make her one. She agreed – and he quickly smelted the steel to form a normal sized quarterstaff she could use and offered to sell it for 1 gold, which Kasumi paid for.
Skrizz headed for the Stonecutter Tavern, which was run by Toor Stonecutter. Inside, the tavern was clearly primarily dwarves; with the other population in the room being humans, elves, and halflings who had – like himself – come here just to stretch their legs. Inside the tavern, he ordered a cold glass of milk and Toor sighed for someone in the back to go milk the cow and that they had “one of the cat people” in the tavern. Skrizz listened around him as he drank his milk and heard some discontent among the people who had paid for the “storage” bunkers for rooms about how small their quarters were.
Outside, sitting near the town’s fountain, Anathema was people watching – she’d heard of dwarves, but had led a secluded life in the Angelic Church in which she was raised – and while she’d definitely heard of dwarves – everything she’d heard was that dwarves lived deep inside mountains, miles below, where the earth’s fiery core raged… but none of these dwarves looked to live in any mountain. Most of them seemed to live in this city. In the distance, Anathema could see a mountain – but those in the town definitely seemed to be more “city folk” rather than “the deep, down in the mountains” kind of dwarves she’d heard about. She too heard people, especially the intoxicated ones, who came out of the Stonecutter Tavern, complaining about their confined space.
Eventually the horn rang, and everyone made their way back to the Griffon’s Crest.
The ship next ported just outside of the island dubbed “Greenhaven” (though no one knows it’s true name). Row boats brought the adventurers out to the shores of “Greenhaven” because there was no true port there – and Captain Cass asked the “adventurers” on her ship to seek out food or herbs to bring back – and that it would help replenish the supplies on the ship – and that she’d pay for it.
On “Greenhaven” the foursome decided that they would help hunt down animals to replenish the food supply aboard the ship. Grace, confident that she could track some animals, for two hours tracked broken branches – but discovered, she’d only managed to track other adventurers who had hunted there and brought down a boar. However, they each caught the sound of a constant whistling – and decided to try and investigate what that might be, but found themselves going in circles – until the ground beneath them rumbled and an ankheg burst through the soil directly in front of them.
The creature quickly gets Anathema in its clutches, it’s massive mandibles able to squeeze some damage into her, while her companions struggle to penetrate the beast’s exoskeleton. Grace calls on Florasena to aid her companions (granting them temporary hit points). Kasumi is able to use her Ki energy for flurry of blows and manages to damage the ankheg. When the Ankheg strikes Anathema again she unleashes a Hellish Rebuke the creature – and where Kasumi had struck it – the shell cracks and green ooze begins to emit from the beast. Skrizz keeps cutting at the creature as well; as it struggles to fight the party. Kasumi focuses her Ki energy – and unleashes her flurry of blows – exploding the ankheg – green mist explodes in every direction (DM Note – for fun I had them roll a Dexterity Save, to avoid the acidic damage) – acid rains down on Grace and Anathema.
Grace mentions that they should harvest the meat from the massive creature. Together they’re able to manage to harvest twenty pounds of meat. With the sound of battle over, Grace picks up on the whistling sound they heard before (Natural 20!) – and they manage to find a field of Whistling Leaf. (DM Note – Whistling Leaf is a healing plant used for healing potions in my world – but they can be suckled on for 1d4 healing per Whistling Leaf).
A short while later, the familiar horn of the ship rings out and row boats begin taking crew and passengers back to the Griffon’s Crest. Back on the ship, Grace creates an elaborate story of the complexity it took to get the ankheg meat – comparing the danger they’d risked compared to others who simply hunted boar – and that they’d managed to harvest 20 pounds of meat and points to Anathema, and the damage she’d taken against the ankheg as a selling point. (DM Note, since she used her damaged party member as an example of the dangers, I allowed Grace to roll with Advantage when it came to selling the meat to Captain Cass). Captain Cass offers to pay 84 gold for the meat, and Grace evenly divides it giving 21 gold to each person in the party.
The ship sets sail again – and after a few days, Captain Cass calls attention to an island off to the west. She explains that the island is known as Eagle Rock and used to be a very common stopping ground for many ships because of the unique liquor produced there known as Vikarus. However, a curse fell over the island – and any ships that get too close are magically drawn to the island and often slammed against the shores. Those who shipwreck there aren’t heard from again. She points out the massive cloud that seems to magically linger over the island, stretching for miles beyond the island as well, seemingly creating an eternal night over the island.
At that moment, cries ring out all over the ship – and turning the party sees green humanoids boarding the ship from the sides.
DM Note – Since Skrizz rolled highest on the Initiative, I decided I would let him choose the fate. I asked him to roll a d4 – and he rolled a 1. I explained only one Sahuagin was near them as it climbed over the bow of the ship. A quick perception check reveals to Anathema and Skrizz that the waters are also full of sharks!
As the foursome battles the Sahuagin near them; battles break out all over the ship with others fighting the Sahuagin. After the first round, the Sahuagin battling our heroes calls out for help (DM Note – I had Skrizz roll a final d4 to see how many come to its aid – he rolls a 3. So three Sahuagin rush towards the party – one rolling a Natural 20 on it’s Initiative - I house roll that a Natural 20 on Initiative equals double action! Adrenline rush for the first round!). The party quickly realizes the danger as the Sahuagin blood frenzy even if they draw the smallest amount of blood from their opponents (giving them advantage on their attacks on anyone who isn’t full health!) It is a struggle as the party fights these humanoids – it seems evenly matched with the Sahuagin winding down the character’s health – until Grace uses her Channel Divinity: Twilight Sanctuary which allows temporary hit points to be – this is the turning of the tide of the battle – that allows the heroes to feel more confident. Eventually three are taken down, with the last one (Natural 20 by Grace, who has 0 damage on unarmed strike) – but she manages to kick the creature off the edge of the ship. The Sahaugin retreat with the victims they managed to pull or throw in the water and sink beneath the tide, riding the very sharks that had been circling the ship. Captain Cass is upset at the loss of people – both because it’s her reputation, but also some of her crew were victims of the vile Sahuagin.
The next few days are spent praying for those who were lost to the Sahuagin and much of the voyage is somber as they approach the last island the party will see on this trek, which is Shadow Island. The party has heard stories about Shadow Island, whose mountain in the center is so tall, that it casts a shadow, like the hand of a clock around the island, as the sun rises and sets. They also know the story of Halkron, the Storm Giant – whose home was at the top of the mountain called Orison Peak, and according to legend – Halkron gazed upon the world to watch where evil was being done and reported to the gods. An ancient red dragon named Braor, the Blood Vein, brought with her a massive army of red dragon to put an end to Halkron – and the story is – so much magic was used that it warped the island and created portals that appear and disappear – to various planes.
The ship finally reaches it’s destination at The Ivory Coast, docking at The Ivory Vale in Vareen. The party leaves and begins walking through the bustling town and has their rooms paid for by the Church at The Pegasus Wing. As they make their way there, Skrizz notices a tavern called The Lion’s Mane which is connected to an Inn called The Lion’s Pride. He’s heard that “operations” worked out of that Inn and noted he should make his way back to see if there was “new” or “business” he could pick up on.
At the Pegasus Wing, the party is approached by a female dwarf with red hair, green eyes, who has a human child with her. The Dwarf, bearing the symbol of Jarisfargen (often simply called “Jaris”) on her chest. She looks between Anathema and Grace. “You bare holy symbols,” she sighs, thankfully, “and a goddess loved by all, while you bare the mark of angels,” she says looking at Grace then Anathema. “I pray that I can trust you… and that you can help me. Well,” she corrects, “actually this young girl.” She forces the young female human who looks to be no older than five years old to come forward. “She and her family were coming back from Ridgecrest – a major city several days away – with religious works, when, during a stop to camp – they were, according to the girl,” the young girl steps back behind the dwarf, “attacked by giants. At least two of them. The girl did not see them, because she’d been in the wagon sleeping. And when the giants came, her mother shoved her out of the wagon and shouted to run. She did so and never looked back – but she heard the giants – two voices arguing with one another. Through some miracle, she found the main road and made her way back here where she was found by a passers by and brought to our Church. She gave me a detailed description of where they’d stopped – and I believe I know exactly where it is. But the girl is attached to me so I can’t leave. I am asking if you can go and… save her parents, or,” her voice becomes grim, “bring them home so we can properly bury them. I will gladly pay you 30 gold each.”
The party doesn’t take long to agree to help the young girl.
Neither for me. This thread is just super long and I think a lot of people don't always have the time to keep up with and respond to everything. However, I still wouldn't count this discussion out yet (imagine if this is the last post here lol).
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BoringBard's long and tedious posts somehow manage to enrapture audiences. How? Because he used Charm Person, the #1 bard spell!
He/him pronouns. Call me Bard. PROUD NERD!
Ever wanted to talk about your parties' worst mistakes? Do so HERE. What's your favorite class, why? Share & explainHERE.
Not yet! I’ve been out and about these past two or three days, so I haven’t checked in. Great session and great writing to all of the stories and session summaries!
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny. Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)
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i am enjoying the tale.
Enough that I have an itch...
Daeseraya said I should tell at least some of this to someone else. Not sure why he was so insistent, it isn't like writing it down will change anything or help anyone, but he won't let it go until I do, so I guess I should start off with Ayehi, I'm Daisy Le Fey. That last part isn't because anyone I know or came from was named Le Fey, it is because my dad was out of the Skydancer Commune in Lyonese, and my mom's home base was Sibola when she wasn't out on the seven seas, and there in Sibola there's a law that says all of us halflings with elfin parents have to be named Le Fey because people seem to think we have the same problems the elfin folks do. Kinda why I moved to Durango, in a way.
I can say that at no time in my life has my temper ever gotten out of hand, and I can say that where others might not, since I'm a Reeve and I work for the Agency. I know, I know, not exactly a glamorous job for real, but folks like to make out like we are all some kind of special badass. One woman armies able to take on two dozen men and win the day. All I'm gonna say to that is if I could actually do that, I would have gone into the Grand Games. Definitely pays better.
So, this is it. Top floor of three, and it ain't much, but it is home. The fireplace doesn't always get clogged up and send smoke from below into the place, and I at least have a window that looks out on a street instead of the courtyard. I do not need to see old lady mellin's backside while she bakes bread every day. I get teased down at the office for having a decent spread of my own, but she's like three of me in every direction, and Ogres seem to me to be more a danger than some half breed Elf.
The smell isn't too bad, either -- those cesspit laws are kinda important, and the dungsweeps are better here than some of the richer areas. Day's pretty big on personally enforcing those. I tend to be more about the rougheer stuff. Though with more and more of those carriages around, I think we'll see fewer and fewer of the horses that keep the sweepers busy. Not too much, mind you, the cost of a horse still isn't close to the cost of one of those magical contraptions.
You can sit down over there. Yep, I got two chairs. Came from my mom. She said they are real Teakwood, made in Aztlan, and took two months of her personal storage space to ship them here after winning them in a card game. The cushions are newer -- I sewed them and stuffed them with some wool i got cheap out by one of the villages. Comfy, right?
Let me get out of this armor and into something a bit lighter. Oh, and don't touch the blades. I am still working on those. Relics of my adventuring days, short as they were. Water's inthe pitcher there -- Jene brings it up three times a day, and she should be here with my bread for the day in a bit.
That? I used to track my travels, when I was a lot less busy. So I made maps. Back when I was a member of the adventurer's guild, i would get asked to join groups because I could make a map. Nothing fancy. No, really -- the Palace has some mapmakers that are more artist than anything. You can see the edge of the Journey Tower from my window if you lean far enough out.
There, that's better. Ok, so, where should I start? Well, I suppose it was the day that I came across a couple of the Skythe syndicate's boys dumping a body in the cesspit over by Quarterrun and Hostel. I knew one of them, a nervous moke that has a face like a moll after a bad date name of Helkin. I had crossed with him three, four years back as a new Reeve, and was a lot more forgiving then. You know, that thing about us being the judge, jury, and executioner is real, right? There's only five of us for all of Durango, though, and we don't do regular crimes like the watch does.
No, our charge comes from the Agency, and we have to follow the Old Laws, all thirty something of them. One of which is killing, of course, and so I took a moment and asked these boys if they might maybe have been the reason the people became corpses that they were dumping. I was nice about it. Leaned against the gate post and smiled, arms crossed, all non-threatening.
Now, I know I am all of five and half feet, and l look more like a Syndic's Moll than a Reeve, but I wear the star tabard, and I earned my way in just like all the others. I keep my pretty face by being good enough to do so. These two mokes were not good enough to do that, and seeing me the big one asked what business it was of mine.
"Darse, she's a Reeve." said Helkin, all bard whisper like he was on some stage.
"Don't look like no Reeve to me, Helkin." Now, I feel pretty sure that Darse was at least some kinda Ogre, but he didn't have that green skin or eyes or hair you see them with, not even a hint, so I guess he was just grown extra big. Had at least a hundred pounds and a good foot on me. Strong Imperial stock, not like my Thally.
But I am half elfin, and I got a bit more oomph than it looks and a lot more dance than people think, and while it took a couple minutes, he was a head shorter and half as handsy, and sweet Helkin was looking at having part of his sentence being moving the oaf. The rest, I explained, was going to involve throwing himself in the pit, and saving me the paperwork, or talking to the Watch, and we all know what Syndic Skythe would think of that.
Either way, he was a dead man and I wouldn't have to wash more off my armor. Custom stuff. Bought it with some funds from a find in a village out near Antilia. Fandelver or something. Mining place near Arendale. Sorry, sidetracked. I just am really proud of that armor.
Now, Helkin, he wasn't real keen on his options and suggested maybe I take a look at who he and his buddy had been tossing, while swearing that while sure, the big guy had been involved int he killing, he was just a small time hoodlum, and only got the dirt jobs. At least, ever since he was busted by yours truly.
Given I'd had a talk with Syndic Skythe late one night after that event, I was inclined to believe him. A girl can't jump to too many conclusions, but sometimes they are more a hop or a skip than a jump, and this was an easy one. Especially since I could pay another visit to Garik, the Syndic Skythe. He still hadn't put in wards like I told him to do.
The first one I got a good look at -- the corpses, I mean, the bodies -- changed a lot of my thinking right away. She was Debora Silvaretti. An Envoy working for both the Durango branch of House Ford and the Ford Syndicate. Good work if you can get it, though the two branches don't always see eye to eye. Except on the carriages, of course.
Ol' Deb was an operator. Envoys aren't to be messed with, not with them turning to shadow and being known more as assassins than diplomats, and I had worked with Deb a time or two back during those Syndic Wars in the south ward. She'd been gutted like a fish, and her face was still stuck in a scream, so I knew it had to have happened fast.
That big guy might have been something, but neither he nor Helkin could ever have taken on Deb. Hell, I'm not sure I could, even with another Reeve as backup, and I get called in to help with them.
"Darse said it was a devil what did it. All seven of them. And Garik, him was bossing it."
Now see, back when, I trained with a Paladin who served Antelle. No, I ain't cut out for being a paladin, though he sure thought so. I'm just a simple girl, and while I didn't apprentice him, I paid attention, because if you ever have to fight a demon or devil, you want a paladin. They got things they can do for that. I was more a wanderer sort, and fell in with a bunch of secretive folks. What did I do? I was a Messenger. Nomad subguild. Yeah, the weird ones. S'why I quit and became a Reeve instead after a few years. But I can still get a message from one place to another, and damn all that lies between.
Problem is, Devil's are already damned, and I only had theory about infernal denizens.
"You see it?" I asked. He shook his greasy head, and turned over a few more. " You already toss the guts?"
"No, Ma'am," he said nearly pissing himself. At least, I think that's what he was doing, given how he was shaking. It wasn't that cold. The cesspit had barely begun to ice back up. And while he didn't do much, he did exercise a little in trying to shorten my lifetime. "They says the Devil ate them."
That fit. Devils tended to be fond of flesh. Demons of everything but. "You know they'll feed you to it if you go back, right? Loose ends are not a specialty of Skythe."
Helkin had not realized that, and explained such under his breath at length. I let him get it out of his blood until he looked back at me, head canted down and to the side.
"There ain't no way out, is there?"
I've seen a lot of folks who have lost things, Tawmis. Lives, jobs, kids, spouses, hopes, dreams. I was taught that loss leads to grief, that grief leads to the discord, that sets one outside the harmony. Yeah, the Nomads messed me up. You'd think they were Bards the way they carry on about music stuff. "Music of the spheres", my left tit.
The rarest kind of loss is everything. That moment when someone who has spent their entire life thinking there is always a way, always an angle, always a chance, always a co or a job oor that last break that you just no is coming around the corner. The loss of optimism. Helkin's face just went gray and the spark in the deepest part of his eyes went out. Kicked puppies got more spunk than he had right then. He told a story without moving or speaking, a tale of someone who the world had just swallowed, folded, spindled, and mutilated before crapping them back out again to start once more, like giving a pat on the head.
I knew that look. It was why I left. Why I became a Reeve.
I should have just cut him down then. Or been merciful and turned him over to the watch. I knew that anything else was passing a problem on down the line to another day and another person because Helkin wasn't the type to stop breaking the law. But the law works for everyone, including him, and in that moment, I just knew I wasn't going to be able to do my job right.
"There's another way. But there is a price you'll have to pay."
"If it ain't my life, it's worth it." Smart words. Most valuable thing you have is your life.
"You'll have to never break the law again. Go honest." I told him straight.
"It ain't like breaking them ever done me much good given where I am, huh?"
I shook my head and agreed privately, then dug a Sovereign out of my purse and held it up. "This will get you on a ship tonight if you go to pier seven and ask at The Momma Duck and say you are a duckling. There will be enough left over for you to pay your guildwage and escrow wherever they take you. You'll have to learn a trade."
"My poppa was a mason. I guess I still 'member some." His eyes started to shine again.
"If I give this to you, and I see you in Durango ever again, and I will be looking, I will kill you on sight." I flipped it at him. You should know, I meant every word.
It was just a spark, not a light, after all, but it was enough to get him scrambling over the bodies and out the gate and he even went the right direction.
Sometimes all you need to do is give someone a chance no one else ever gave them. That one gold coin was worth two years of apprenticeship for him.
I'm an incarnate, you see. I was still born here and all that, but my soul, my self, the stuff that makes me me -- all of that came from a different world, and one that is outside the Cycle. I had been a man there, a janitor, and I died one day and woke up a baby girl that could remember all her life before. Still have them, but I grew up here and I've been living here thirty some odd years and this ain't anything like where I was before.
No one ever gave that chance to me back then. In another life.
I looked down at the bodies and knew I was in trouble because all the bodies were movers and shakers in the Ford Syndic and House, and one of them was a ringer for a Reeve I had known when I was training up. Kemet wasn't the worst by any means, but he wanted to do the dirtiest work, the sneaky stuff, and if he was who I stared into the cold, dead eyes of, then we had a bigger problem than I could handle by myself.
The Devil had come to Durango, and he was planning on fighting the Law.
Too bad I didn't have beginner's luck...
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities
.-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-.
An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more.
Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
In a modern day campaign, would you ally with a group of pro undeath rights zombies lead by a chaotic good banshee?
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
What kind of question is that?!
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Wow! That was good! As an English major and prospective author, I feel it is my duty to throw in some writing of my own!
I’ll be back soon (;
i wouldn't, personally, but I am sure there are some very fine unpeople there.
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities
.-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-.
An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more.
Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
Daisy is, very much, a product of the Wyrlde. She's a 7th level Nomad -- sorta like what you get if you cross The Jedi with all of our secret Societies like the illuminati and freemasons and such, and then put them to work fighting weird ass stuff from what would be a split up Plane of Shadows. Monks fight nightmares Nomads fight the rest.
Weird format for it, I know, but I want to tell it like a story one throws at you, not like something written down. It is a hard dive into the world as a whole, so a little heavy on exposition for me, but that's not likely to change. No clue what the third act will be like, but that's half the fun of it...
If ya'll would prefer I not, let me know.
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities
.-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-.
An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more.
Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
OK - first, that's awesome that my madness inspired you to create this! This is great - and yes, please do more! While I do plan to wrap up whatever it is I've been doing (no idea where I am going with it, still, it's always been a "I am bored and need to write something before I go mad!" - and not anything I have planned at all). Second, yes, please, please continue adding to the story you've created! #FeedCreativty
Check out my publication on DMs Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/browse.php?author=Tawmis%20Logue
Check out my comedy web series - Neverending Nights: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Wr4-u9-zw0&list=PLbRG7dzFI-u3EJd0usasgDrrFO3mZ1lOZ
Need a character story/background written up? I do it for free (but also take donations!) - https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?591882-Need-a-character-background-written-up
Dayesera is the Marshal for all of Durango, and if'n ya ask me, he's got the worst posting one can get. But it runs in his family, including my bestie who tells me I have to tell you all of this.
Dead people are important, Don't let anyone try and tell you they aren't when we have statues and steles raised to them and folks still spend a dozen pence to pay for the funeral rites from some Shrineward or Cleric. What they can be said about, however, is they can wait. They are dead, and afte getting the watch over to haul the bodies out of the space around the cesspit, I headed over to the office.
We don't get a barracks, don't have much pay, even if it is better than most, and we don't have to put up with much -- those are the benefits. The downside is that the office is a room big enough for seven desks, five holding cells, three chairs, and I always want to mention the parrot in the dead tee that sits next to Nala's desk. I always thought that Hyborians were savage animals, but having a Panther work with you -- and one that is shorter than you are by a foot -- has taught me a lot about them. Nothing about why a full grown Panther Therian would keep a pet Parrot, but among the things I have learned are you never pat them on the head, you never call them cute, and you never think of them as any less civilized.
Also, they make these weird flatbreads that are amazing in curry. And there's Jene with the fresh pitcher and the bread. I can send her out for something from one of the stalls int he market if you'd like, This is going to take a bit. Okay, preferences? Oh, that sounds good. One moment.
I might give the old lady a ration for butt crack, but she does make damn fine bread, and she only takes two bits for it. Butter's in the counter crock. We'll have some of that derby wine later. So, where was I? Oh, yeah, the office.
I snagged a chair from behind Nala's desk and dragged it to my own, then stared filling out the paperwork that seems to be our reason for living in the Reeves. I am an honest Reeve, and included the bit about Helkin in it. Might seem strange that we have to write everything down every day. It isn't like anyone reads it -- except that I was there when an Auditor came through, and that weird old dude did in fact read everything. Seven years worth of stuff in like one day, ad then he asked questions of everyone about all of it for the rest of the week before he poof up and vanished. I think the real folks who watch the Agency are the Powers. Ever wonder why you never hear about what happens to Reeves who go bad?
No, no, there are plenty of bad Reeves. Most just don't last after an Auditor comes through. They vanish. Preston Kant was a bad Reeve. Let the power go to his head and tried a graft operation and there he was all high and mighty on Hearth Day and Faith day he's nowhere. So I do my reports and I do them right. I've been a Reeve for five years now. Adventurer for five years before that. And I apprenticed as a Messenger. Not bad for a thirty year old, huh? My Mom spent thirty years on her boats, could track a river or coastline by the smell of the air. I spent most of my younger days on the water with her, and I have to say that the old shack we had for during the worst of the winter when we got stuck without a load was still a damn sight better than that office is. You've seen it. Just boards put up on a frame. Hot as hell in summer, cold as the abyss in winter, and if they stop the wind at all, I can't tell.
But I did my report, and then I waxed it and set it on Day's desk, and then went home.
I got to the second floor landing, the one right out there, when the first guy came at me. I admit, I wasn't thinking right, my head still in the report, and I should have been thinking about what it all meant. I had word that a Syndic was ruining a Devil and i had taken out two of his guys and Garik and I already had a history. I don't think Helkin ratted me out, I think there was supposed to be another member of that crew and I missed him and set myself up for a chance run in with Garik's response to my suggestion of improving his security.
On the other hand, the smart move would have been to wait for me in here. There's no locks. I've got a ward ont he chest and stuff, but otherwise, this is where I would have been most relaxed, even if I wasn't expecting things.
I took a good hit or two before I was able to turn the tide. There were five of them, and they pushed me back down to the first landing , leaving two of their team smoking to do it, and by then I was pretty much done with this and flung the others up and over my head. Tuckered me out, but if there is one thing being a messenger does for you, it is that you learn how to get out of tight spots. I broke a knife, though. That's why it's on the bench over there. Had it reforged, but now I have to do a few things, like getting a greenschine crystal for it.
I'm proud of not having to use those old skills as a messenger, though. It was only five guys and that narrow staircase. I should have done better, and even if I was bleeding, I could have drawn them out into the street. At least, that's what I thought I could have done, but it turns out that was the plan all along, as I found out when I rushed the bunch of them in a rage, lightning crackling around me.
Yeah, I got some magic. Ain't like the Witches or Wizards, but it does me a spell in those tight places. I was doing my little dance ad shouting my invocation and I stepped into the main entry to let loose a bit of thunder and like every fool who ever walked into a trap I had a moment to notice the carriage parked out front with crossbows sticking out the windows before lights out from the side. I was so caught up in the spell that I didn't catch the movement out of the corner of my eye. Choked me out, the spell fizzled, and i was out for the night a bit early, with no real reason to think I was going to wake up on this world again. I figured I was bound for the Cycle for sure. Given the way I did this life, I figure Perdition, maybe Limbo.
You can imagine my thoughts when I woke up and saw a bit of Hell.
You know the butcheries on the edge of the city? No? Well, this is Durango. We are the pig chopping up capital of the world, right here, and they kill so many pigs in a week there that they have barrels of pig blood. Just stacked up. Some they ship off to Akadia for the Mages, but most of it is just going to go into fertilizer for the fields to grow the stuff that they feed the pigs anyway. And let me tell you, it stinks. I fought in a pitched battle against goblins, and the smell was infinitely preferable. It is why I hate going there. Nala doesn't mind, so she does a lot of tours through there, since the Guild house is there and we think the GUild Lord is forgetting the difference between people and pigs when it comes to how he treats them.
Well, I should say I used to hate it, but what woke me up was far, far worse. I was upside down, my head just beneath the ceiling of a large room with no door, just a big ole round hole in the top that I was being lowered into. That room was painted with offal and blood and people dung and I was pretty sure that I was going to be adding to that mess. People dead stink. People dead for a while plus the body odor of a Devil is why I vomited and some of it went in my nose.
Upside down, you see. Wasn't sure if drowning in my own puke or the devil would be worse. I was trussed like an Imp prize, of course, but they hadn't gagged me and I could still hear fine, so hearing roaring laughter from the direction of my feet was a bit unnerving. And really bad for my rep as a badass Reeve and all that.
"Why hello again, Daisy. Such a lovely flower to have delivered to me. Boys, you shouldn't have."
Garik was not known for bringing in the sharpest knives. "Uh, Boss, but you said..."
"I know what I said!" Garik shouted before making a visible effort to calm himself down. I zeroed in on the dark spot his voice was coming from.
"Well, I suppose this is one way to get my attention, Syndic. Not that you needed to. I was planning on coming to you soon anyway." I doubt that the words had the effect I had hoped for, what with puke runnign down my face and getting in my hair, and a softly chuckling devil somewhere beneath that.
At least he found it funny. And it was a he, no doubt. Lady devils don't have a voice like the pit. They sound more like a screeching banshee. Told you I paid attention.
"I am afraid this is the sum total of our time together, You have other matters you will be attended to shortly."
"What, you mean the scary guy in the dark hole that can't leave a little circle you put him in?" I really tried to sound nonchalant. "Meh. I'm not a Marshall yet, but I'm in line." That was a total lie. But he didn't know that.
Marshall's are like Reeves on Ambrosia. Possibly literally. I once watched Day lift a horse in a sling by himself. How does one get that strong? I have to work out every night for two hours just to be able to lift a mark and a half. A typical horse is almost ten marks.
"Your banter is much better this time, Daisy." The way he said my name made me think he stomped on flowers for happy.
"I don't usually banter when I have a knife to a man's balls, Garik. What do you want?"
"Your head on a pike."
"Granted." Said the sepulchral voice from beyond my head. I swear, I think he was playing with my ponytail. Batting it back and forth. I could feel it.
"No offense, either of you, but I am sort of attached to it right now. More importantly, you do realize that this will only make things worse for you. A Syndicate killing a Reeve is grounds for erasure of that Syndicate. And Days kinda likes me."
I was jerked up. And by up, I mean towards my feet. I was getting a little loopy just swinging there. My hair stopped moving on its own.
"They would have to know about you first, Daisy."
"I stumble across a bunch of corpses and a story about a summoned denizen under the thumb of Skythe Syndicate and you don't think I wrote that report out before going home? You don't think that I pointed out how those corpses were Ford peoples, do you?"
Someone moved above me, and past my feet I saw the hook that the rope was run through to suspend me over the pit. I still couldn't make out face, just shapes, because it was dark and the light was all behind them and to my right. Remember what I told you about Messengers. Well, about Nomads, really. We are good at three things. Getting the package through. Getting out of tight spots. And getting through obstacles if we have a blade we've made.
I didn't have a blade on me, but I had one near me, because I could sense it. And now that I could see the hook, I had one small chance that might not work if I couldn't maintain the willpower long enough. I had been planning to pull Garik down with me, the noble heroic sacrifice and all, but this was a different chance. Magic requires folks to be able to move and to speak. If they are doing a ritual, they have to have odd materials and other stuff. But Nomads, we use magic a different way. Or at least, some of us do. There are others who do weird stuff without magic. But my kind, the messenger kind, we take our mana and we turn in inwards, and then we let it pass through us into the world around us. Mana is some potent stuff. Most Reeves are former adventurers. because a lot of them learn a thing or two about magic along the way. I don't like to use it. All those lights and sparkles and flashes and stuff, they annoy me, but there are three things we all learn. The first is to move things with our ind. It had been a long time since I had tried to move something that weighed as much as me. At least they had take that off me when I was out. I am certain it would have been too much, because that stuff is like thirty more pounds, and soaking wet I top out at 140.
What? You think this long ass hair is light? Or these muscles?
I took a deep breath and tuned whatever it was Garik was saying out, centering myself in a way I hadn't done in half a decade. Big difference between using Move to throw some guys down stairs and using it to move yourself up. But I needed to use that hook as an anchor. Using the Vibe is a humming ting, one that few folks ever realize is going on because to most people it seems to be tuneless. Bards get it, but don't always know why. It isn't like a Song, it is more physical, more deep down in your bones, more about the beating of your heart and the rushing of your blood, and mine was all going to the place I used it the least, I guess, because I was in a hole wrapped in rope and Baal was waiting for his personal snack.
Ok, it wasn't the Prince himself, but its an expression.
And then I started to hum.th Vibe starts deep in the chest, right in the gut, and you bring it up and out until you are moving to the Vibe of the universe or some mystical crap like that. I mean, I know, but then I would have to kill you if I told you and like I said, honest Reeve. Thankfully, Garik and his goons were just droning on about how they were going to still kill me and get away with it because they would be gone or some other kind of thing, but I didn't care, because I was linking me with the big ass hook in the ceiling joist up thee about fifteen feet away from my feet, and also working on how to get this rope undone or wriggle out. And thankfully, I was managing both. I couldn't pick a pocket to save a life, but I can bend in ways that hurt to see. Tight spaces.
Something else Vibed.
I paid attention. I really did. But at no time did anyone, anywhere, tell me that Devils could Vibe. I mean, okay, yeah, they are the children of the Powers that Be and all that, so it probably shouldn't be a surprise, but holy cow, that was so not the right thing, and the bastard denizen was better at it than I was. I got my arms free to the elbows, and that hurt, but I was able to see if they had missed any of the smaller blades, A dagger, maybe. No, but I could touch my butt. And the wall in front of my nose if I bent. But I wasn't moving up, I was moving down, so slowly, and were the ropes loosening? The Devil was vibing with me and the ropes, I was Vibing with me and the hook, and I needed a distraction. I swear I couldn't think of anything else.
Please, Tawmis, understand, I didn't really have a choice. Not if I wanted to live, and I may not have made it clear, but Deb was a friend. I owed her justice.
So I stopped anchoring witht eh hook and snatched one of the goons instead. I am pretty sure he was dead in the first five feet, because I head a bone snap after his head struck a way at an angle, and then he bounced me around as he tumbled bonelessly into the darkness beyond my forehead.
Devils may eat us, but they gain the most from corrupting us. From pushing us into the dark places, from forcing us to do things we would never do because they hurt others, they are evil, malicious. It makes us sweeter. Innocence means nothing to a devil beyond sour milk and spoiled meat, really. And not just us. They get it from hags and wraiths, vampires and trolls, anything that can think and is capable of being corrupted and eaten.
And at that moment, I think I became a bit sweeter, because I pulled that man down. From the sounds that followed, he was plenty sweet already, but that didn't make my action more bearable. At least, not to me. And as he gave his life for mine, I kept humming and snagged that anchor again, and zoom, up I went before the Syndicate boys even had a chance to get over the guy who "fell" into the hole.
Cups empty? Here, let me show you. Yes, that's me moving the pitcher, No, I didn't do a chant and wave my arms around or glow. See? No manifestation. This is still magic -- it is like using raw magic. There you go. Moving things outside ourselves is easy, for varying degrees of easy. I mean, if I can lift it, then no biggie, and usually it is easier to get up and do it We all have different levels of mana we can store, anyway, and I am not that great at it, so I tire easily. Heavier things ar suppos3d to be just as easy in theory, but in prac5ice we kinda get in in our own way. So, yeah, hader. But above and beyond that, there is moving ourselves. TO move things, we need to become one with them, and so it is hard to do things to ourselves. I mean, I can do it, but the Masters? Hell, they can move entire ships and give themselves an extra boost. I can do it too, and often do, like jumping down from a roof or up a story. If I get about seven feet of lift, a Grand Master can get about twenty.
I burned through a lot of mana right then. As I swung out over the floor, the ropes coming loose, and dropped into a crouch, I was wobbly and seeing double, seriously fatigued fro just that, but I was also facing Garik and some of his guys, and my weapons were on the other side of the room.
I called one of my knives. I use big knives, you noticed. Trickier than a short sword, not as long, but pretty much the same kind of movement. My preferred is two knives. Here, let me show you.
This is a Doradan Bowan knife. Sixteen inches long, single edged, serration on the back side, broad blade, thick and sturdy. My Mom said that this was how I got made, because she and my dad met at an inn and talked about their knives. Really.
But this is a special knife. It has a crystal deep in the hilt. Now, watch. Cool, huh? It is a manifestation of my willpower and my mana. takes a bit of time, but I can cut through bone, stone, and wood with it. Masters can cut through metal. Takes more mana, though. Mine include a good chunk of orikal in the alloy, so I can store up mana in them. Anyway, so I pulled my knife to me just I like i did that one, and I wrapped it, and I knew I was going to have to get out of there fast, because I was about to pass out from using too much mana. Having been unconscious I didn't have any spells in my head, and Vibing ain't exactly low on power use, so I was in a world of hurt, and I think that's enough for tonight.
Tomorrow I'll tell you how I got out of there.
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities
.-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-.
An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more.
Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
I've yet to check out the original comic, but the tv show iZombie was pretty cool and you're basically talking about the later season's arcs. So, sure.
Jander Sunstar is the thinking person's Drizzt, fight me.
Wait, seriously? What are the characters names?
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
Be warned - when I write my game notes, I often write them in story format - makes it easier for me (and also keeps the players engaged when they read the recaps)...
So here we go - today's session!
Two ago, several Churches reported that their gods had gone silent – Airana, goddess of fertility; Akanda, god of travel; Drakenfhel, god of wisdom; Elenar, god of wind, fire and water; Krauzden, god of wind and flight, Lauhzar, goddess of winter, Tavara, goddess of weather, and Tearak, god of judgement – all of them had gone silent. Eventually the clerics confirmed – their gods had perished during a battle in the heavens when Lakrona, Mistress of the Web, ascended. (DM Note – this was the conclusion of a large, 28 session story line, concluding in Session 41!)
While all deities are highly regarded; the death of Airana, whom many called on for favor of fertility… Drakenfiel, the god of Wisdom’s demise, caused mass panic, as Drakenfiel was someone the gods had turned to… and Tearak, the God of Judgement… now souls, slain were caught in the nether realm – their souls unable to be judged…
Churches gathered and discussed what must be done – all of these events all seemed to stem from the far continent.
A year or so after, a white light event happened – and suddenly many were gifted with incredible knowledge and magic – once again, this event triggered back to the far continent of Vareen.
The largest Church, the Church of Florasena had begun collecting some of these relics that were coming from Vareen and studying them with great interest – many of them were ancient and crackling with magical energy. These relics caught the attention of a Tabaxi Rogue named Skrizz, whom the Church had been alerted to by some unknown source, that they were going to be infiltrated by the Tabaxi and had managed to capture him using a magical trap. Skrizz wasn’t taken into custody however; instead, he was brought beneath the Church and kept in their prison and questioned.
Elsewhere in the Church, Grace Obadiah, an Aasimar Twilight Cleric was called into the office of the Archpriest, Brawnstone Dawnslight, a human whose piercing blue eyes were said to be forged from the heavens due to their depth an intensity. Brawnstone explained that he had a vision that Grace was to go to Vareen and seek out more information about these ancient artifacts. He’d done some research and many of them were surfacing in a distant desert called Drastor – and that there were many temples there – and from what he’d gathered by speaking to those whom the Church purchased these artifacts from – the temples were often filled with traps. He explained that she would be taking the Tabaxi Rogue they’d caught a few days ago, Skrizz with her. He explained that the Church offered to “erase the slate” if he agreed to help – and while at first, he seemed disinterested – the mention of treasure, relics and temples garnered the Tabaxi’s interest – and the fact that the Church would be paying for his passage to go with you.
Departing from Bistream on their way to Moontide Port, the duo encountered a lone traveler – a female Tiefling. Grace took note that the Tiefling bore a religious crest on her chest piece, as well as on her armor’s shoulder piece. Grace found it interesting because it was not the symbol of any of the known deities, but rather the Angels who served the deities as messengers. Grace felt that perhaps this was an omen – a sign of the goddess – that, as an Aasimar, she would be put in the path of a Tiefling baring angelic symbols. Grace and Skrizz approached the Tiefling who stood and drew her weapon, explaining she wanted no trouble. Grace assured her that they brought no trouble and meant no trouble. Grace explained that she noticed the angelic markings and was curious about them. The Tiefling introduced herself as Anathema Haniel, but noticed that the last name she’d given – she’d paused on – as if unsure she wanted to share it or perhaps provided a false name. (DM Note – the player was mentioning they may change their last name, so just providing some flavor in the event the last name does change). They sat together and Grace shared the mission that she and Skrizz were on and spoke how perhaps her goddess has put Anathema on her path for a reason. Anathema, searching for who she was, thought that perhaps escaping to a new continent, where she can begin anew – and perhaps truly grow as herself, thought this was a perfect opportunity to do so – especially since Grace explained that as long as Anathema agreed, she would be willing, through the Church, pay for the Tiefling’s passage to Vareen.
When the trio reached Moontide Port they found the small port city, bustling with excitement and would be adventurers, all with their hopes and dreams of finding riches in Vareen and coming back and be set for the rest of their life. Grace explains that the ship they are taking – The Griffon’s Crest – wasn’t due to reach Moontide Port for another two days. She explained she would pay for their rooms and they found – through sheer luck (or, as Grace would say, Florasena’s guidance, an Inn that had several rooms available). It was when the trio met down in the tavern for drinks – though it was mostly full of humans, dwarves and halflings – one figure stuck out above the rest – literally – a goliath slumped over, her massive frame not comfortable. Once again, Grace wondered if this had been divine intervention that the very Inn they found that had, through some miracle spare rooms – would also be the place where a lone goliath stood out to her. Grace stood and headed for the Goliath, and Skrizz who’d already seen this happen with the Tiefling simply rolled his eyes.
Grace spoke with the Goliath who introduced herself as Kasumi Makio Iolani, and that she’d left her tribe in Snowspire Mountains, because she did not approve of their warring and raiding ways. She sought peace and tranquility and set out on her own. She learned to channel the energy of the world known as “Ki Energy” – and noticed an odd shift in the world’s Ki energy two years ago. She’d been tracking it – and discovered the root of it seemed to center on the continent of Vareen – or at least the events that seemed to have ties to it, and that she was going to find a way to get to Vareen – but, had no money for passage since ship captains, well aware of the high demand to go to the new continent were charging outrageous prices. Grace smiled – and explained that it seemed the shift in Ki energy could be tied to the demise of eight deities – as they seemed to have happened at the same time, based on the times each felt it. Grace offered to pay for Kasumi’s passage if the Goliath agreed to go with Grace. Kasumi agreed – and Grace returned to their table with their new companion and introduced her.
After two days, The Griffon’s Crest made port, and the party was introduced to Captain Cass Lightmage.
Captain Cass explains that it will take about two weeks time to reach Vareen – and that they will need to stop at a few islands for a few trades as well as restocking for supplies – because, she sacrificed some of the chambers in the ship normally used for supplies, as “rooms” for desperate adventurers who were willing to be confined in small spaces just to get to Vareen sooner than later, fearful that they might miss out on the treasures being uncovered.
Thankfully, the last of the Church’s money provided to Grace would be used in booking normal rooms aboard the Griffon’s Crest to assure maximum comfort. The ship sails for two days before coming to its first stop at an island called Havar – which is primarily run by dwarves. Captain Cass explains that the ship will be docked here for several hours as she has some leathers to trade with the dwarves for some fine steel weapons and armor, which she then plans to sell to the people in Vareen. The party departs from the ship to see what this town of Dwarves has to offer. Grace wanders into Twostone’s Steel, a weapon shop run by a dwarf named Daz Twostone. Grace explains that the Church had sent her off with a light cross bow and she was hoping to find something with a little more “punch” to it. She spoke to Daz, and explained that she’d also need to use a shield – Daz explained she’d be better off with a hand crossbow – doesn’t pack that punch she wants – but it’d allow her to freely use a shield. She offered to trade her own light crossbow and paid very little for the hand crossbow. Kasumi would also head for Twostone’s Steel, but would wait for Grace to finish – as these buildings were all built for dwarves, and standing at seven feet tall, going inside such buildings proved difficult for Kasumi. She asked if Daz had a quarterstaff that she could use – and he explained that he could forge two of them together at the steel tip and make her one. She agreed – and he quickly smelted the steel to form a normal sized quarterstaff she could use and offered to sell it for 1 gold, which Kasumi paid for.
Skrizz headed for the Stonecutter Tavern, which was run by Toor Stonecutter. Inside, the tavern was clearly primarily dwarves; with the other population in the room being humans, elves, and halflings who had – like himself – come here just to stretch their legs. Inside the tavern, he ordered a cold glass of milk and Toor sighed for someone in the back to go milk the cow and that they had “one of the cat people” in the tavern. Skrizz listened around him as he drank his milk and heard some discontent among the people who had paid for the “storage” bunkers for rooms about how small their quarters were.
Outside, sitting near the town’s fountain, Anathema was people watching – she’d heard of dwarves, but had led a secluded life in the Angelic Church in which she was raised – and while she’d definitely heard of dwarves – everything she’d heard was that dwarves lived deep inside mountains, miles below, where the earth’s fiery core raged… but none of these dwarves looked to live in any mountain. Most of them seemed to live in this city. In the distance, Anathema could see a mountain – but those in the town definitely seemed to be more “city folk” rather than “the deep, down in the mountains” kind of dwarves she’d heard about. She too heard people, especially the intoxicated ones, who came out of the Stonecutter Tavern, complaining about their confined space.
Eventually the horn rang, and everyone made their way back to the Griffon’s Crest.
The ship next ported just outside of the island dubbed “Greenhaven” (though no one knows it’s true name). Row boats brought the adventurers out to the shores of “Greenhaven” because there was no true port there – and Captain Cass asked the “adventurers” on her ship to seek out food or herbs to bring back – and that it would help replenish the supplies on the ship – and that she’d pay for it.
On “Greenhaven” the foursome decided that they would help hunt down animals to replenish the food supply aboard the ship. Grace, confident that she could track some animals, for two hours tracked broken branches – but discovered, she’d only managed to track other adventurers who had hunted there and brought down a boar. However, they each caught the sound of a constant whistling – and decided to try and investigate what that might be, but found themselves going in circles – until the ground beneath them rumbled and an ankheg burst through the soil directly in front of them.
The creature quickly gets Anathema in its clutches, it’s massive mandibles able to squeeze some damage into her, while her companions struggle to penetrate the beast’s exoskeleton. Grace calls on Florasena to aid her companions (granting them temporary hit points). Kasumi is able to use her Ki energy for flurry of blows and manages to damage the ankheg. When the Ankheg strikes Anathema again she unleashes a Hellish Rebuke the creature – and where Kasumi had struck it – the shell cracks and green ooze begins to emit from the beast. Skrizz keeps cutting at the creature as well; as it struggles to fight the party. Kasumi focuses her Ki energy – and unleashes her flurry of blows – exploding the ankheg – green mist explodes in every direction (DM Note – for fun I had them roll a Dexterity Save, to avoid the acidic damage) – acid rains down on Grace and Anathema.
Grace mentions that they should harvest the meat from the massive creature. Together they’re able to manage to harvest twenty pounds of meat. With the sound of battle over, Grace picks up on the whistling sound they heard before (Natural 20!) – and they manage to find a field of Whistling Leaf. (DM Note – Whistling Leaf is a healing plant used for healing potions in my world – but they can be suckled on for 1d4 healing per Whistling Leaf).
A short while later, the familiar horn of the ship rings out and row boats begin taking crew and passengers back to the Griffon’s Crest. Back on the ship, Grace creates an elaborate story of the complexity it took to get the ankheg meat – comparing the danger they’d risked compared to others who simply hunted boar – and that they’d managed to harvest 20 pounds of meat and points to Anathema, and the damage she’d taken against the ankheg as a selling point. (DM Note, since she used her damaged party member as an example of the dangers, I allowed Grace to roll with Advantage when it came to selling the meat to Captain Cass). Captain Cass offers to pay 84 gold for the meat, and Grace evenly divides it giving 21 gold to each person in the party.
The ship sets sail again – and after a few days, Captain Cass calls attention to an island off to the west. She explains that the island is known as Eagle Rock and used to be a very common stopping ground for many ships because of the unique liquor produced there known as Vikarus. However, a curse fell over the island – and any ships that get too close are magically drawn to the island and often slammed against the shores. Those who shipwreck there aren’t heard from again. She points out the massive cloud that seems to magically linger over the island, stretching for miles beyond the island as well, seemingly creating an eternal night over the island.
At that moment, cries ring out all over the ship – and turning the party sees green humanoids boarding the ship from the sides.
DM Note – Since Skrizz rolled highest on the Initiative, I decided I would let him choose the fate. I asked him to roll a d4 – and he rolled a 1. I explained only one Sahuagin was near them as it climbed over the bow of the ship. A quick perception check reveals to Anathema and Skrizz that the waters are also full of sharks!
As the foursome battles the Sahuagin near them; battles break out all over the ship with others fighting the Sahuagin. After the first round, the Sahuagin battling our heroes calls out for help (DM Note – I had Skrizz roll a final d4 to see how many come to its aid – he rolls a 3. So three Sahuagin rush towards the party – one rolling a Natural 20 on it’s Initiative - I house roll that a Natural 20 on Initiative equals double action! Adrenline rush for the first round!). The party quickly realizes the danger as the Sahuagin blood frenzy even if they draw the smallest amount of blood from their opponents (giving them advantage on their attacks on anyone who isn’t full health!) It is a struggle as the party fights these humanoids – it seems evenly matched with the Sahuagin winding down the character’s health – until Grace uses her Channel Divinity: Twilight Sanctuary which allows temporary hit points to be – this is the turning of the tide of the battle – that allows the heroes to feel more confident. Eventually three are taken down, with the last one (Natural 20 by Grace, who has 0 damage on unarmed strike) – but she manages to kick the creature off the edge of the ship. The Sahaugin retreat with the victims they managed to pull or throw in the water and sink beneath the tide, riding the very sharks that had been circling the ship. Captain Cass is upset at the loss of people – both because it’s her reputation, but also some of her crew were victims of the vile Sahuagin.
The next few days are spent praying for those who were lost to the Sahuagin and much of the voyage is somber as they approach the last island the party will see on this trek, which is Shadow Island. The party has heard stories about Shadow Island, whose mountain in the center is so tall, that it casts a shadow, like the hand of a clock around the island, as the sun rises and sets. They also know the story of Halkron, the Storm Giant – whose home was at the top of the mountain called Orison Peak, and according to legend – Halkron gazed upon the world to watch where evil was being done and reported to the gods. An ancient red dragon named Braor, the Blood Vein, brought with her a massive army of red dragon to put an end to Halkron – and the story is – so much magic was used that it warped the island and created portals that appear and disappear – to various planes.
The ship finally reaches it’s destination at The Ivory Coast, docking at The Ivory Vale in Vareen. The party leaves and begins walking through the bustling town and has their rooms paid for by the Church at The Pegasus Wing. As they make their way there, Skrizz notices a tavern called The Lion’s Mane which is connected to an Inn called The Lion’s Pride. He’s heard that “operations” worked out of that Inn and noted he should make his way back to see if there was “new” or “business” he could pick up on.
At the Pegasus Wing, the party is approached by a female dwarf with red hair, green eyes, who has a human child with her. The Dwarf, bearing the symbol of Jarisfargen (often simply called “Jaris”) on her chest. She looks between Anathema and Grace. “You bare holy symbols,” she sighs, thankfully, “and a goddess loved by all, while you bare the mark of angels,” she says looking at Grace then Anathema. “I pray that I can trust you… and that you can help me. Well,” she corrects, “actually this young girl.” She forces the young female human who looks to be no older than five years old to come forward. “She and her family were coming back from Ridgecrest – a major city several days away – with religious works, when, during a stop to camp – they were, according to the girl,” the young girl steps back behind the dwarf, “attacked by giants. At least two of them. The girl did not see them, because she’d been in the wagon sleeping. And when the giants came, her mother shoved her out of the wagon and shouted to run. She did so and never looked back – but she heard the giants – two voices arguing with one another. Through some miracle, she found the main road and made her way back here where she was found by a passers by and brought to our Church. She gave me a detailed description of where they’d stopped – and I believe I know exactly where it is. But the girl is attached to me so I can’t leave. I am asking if you can go and… save her parents, or,” her voice becomes grim, “bring them home so we can properly bury them. I will gladly pay you 30 gold each.”
The party doesn’t take long to agree to help the young girl.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Check out my publication on DMs Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/browse.php?author=Tawmis%20Logue
Check out my comedy web series - Neverending Nights: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Wr4-u9-zw0&list=PLbRG7dzFI-u3EJd0usasgDrrFO3mZ1lOZ
Need a character story/background written up? I do it for free (but also take donations!) - https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?591882-Need-a-character-background-written-up
I've murdered the thread.
Or everyone is playing Baldur's Gate 3.
Check out my publication on DMs Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/browse.php?author=Tawmis%20Logue
Check out my comedy web series - Neverending Nights: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Wr4-u9-zw0&list=PLbRG7dzFI-u3EJd0usasgDrrFO3mZ1lOZ
Need a character story/background written up? I do it for free (but also take donations!) - https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?591882-Need-a-character-background-written-up
Probably the latter.
Creating Epic Boons on DDB
DDB Buyers' Guide
Hardcovers, DDB & You
Content Troubleshooting
Neither for me. This thread is just super long and I think a lot of people don't always have the time to keep up with and respond to everything. However, I still wouldn't count this discussion out yet (imagine if this is the last post here lol).
BoringBard's long and tedious posts somehow manage to enrapture audiences. How? Because he used Charm Person, the #1 bard spell!
He/him pronouns. Call me Bard. PROUD NERD!
Ever wanted to talk about your parties' worst mistakes? Do so HERE. What's your favorite class, why? Share & explain
HERE.Not yet! I’ve been out and about these past two or three days, so I haven’t checked in. Great session and great writing to all of the stories and session summaries!
Yeah I could only wish to have adventures to share right now.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
The Phillies are winning. They won the first game of their double header, now they’re winning the second (so far).
Creating Epic Boons on DDB
DDB Buyers' Guide
Hardcovers, DDB & You
Content Troubleshooting
Aaaaaand Ranger just loaded the effing bases. Sonofa*****! 😔
Creating Epic Boons on DDB
DDB Buyers' Guide
Hardcovers, DDB & You
Content Troubleshooting
Oh thank goodness we got out of it.
Creating Epic Boons on DDB
DDB Buyers' Guide
Hardcovers, DDB & You
Content Troubleshooting
Goddamn Aragorn.
Look at what you've done. You spoiled it. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Go sit and think about your actions.
Don't be mean. Rudeness is a vicious cycle, and it has to stop somewhere. Exceptions for things that are funny.
Go to the current Competition of the Finest 'Brews! It's a cool place where cool people make cool things.
How I'm posting based on text formatting: Mod Hat Off - Mod Hat Also Off (I'm not a mod)