This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The first hound's fang's strike true, the crooked god eater having one of its wings torn from its body as it shrieks with pain and utter rage. Like before, the wound quickly begins to heal and regrow, but the wing doesn't fully reform just yet. The lantern hound takes 8 fire damage from Helianth's Fire Shield spell, as golden flames billow forth and sear its semi-corporeal flesh.
The divine glutton casts a Quickened Cloudkill, a shimmering, sickly-sweet miasma pouring forth from its flower heads like a dragon's breath. It tries to catch both of the Lantern Hounds in the cloud's radius, but if it can't it focuses on just the one that successfully wounded it. At the start of the affected hounds' turns, they will need to make DC 20 Constitution saves, taking 18 poison damage on a failed save, or half as much on a success. As its main action, Helianth uses its Channel Divinity to conjure a Far Rift, making the tear in the fabric of reality appear directly in the center of the noxious cloud. Thorny tendrils of darkness lash out at both the hounds, attempting to drag them closer into the rift. Both need to make DC 20 Dexterity saves, being pulled 20 feet closer to the rift on a failure. If one of the hounds is pulled inside the rift's 5-foot radius, it takes 36 psychic damage as it glimpses things not meant for mortal eyes to see.
Then, as its Godly Action, it once again uses Kill the Lights, trying to devour their very life essences. 14 cold damage plus 15 necrotic damage.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Someone seems to have started a small graveyard in the woods. There are several marked graves surrounding an apple tree. A graveyard keeper is tending to one of the graves. Her short crop of coal-black hair ends just below her chin, and she wears practical work clothes fit for a graveyard keeper. Something seems familiar about her… the locket, the watery brown eyes, the slight tinge of decomposition on her skin…
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire who's always open to chat or share a fun fact or two. I'm a sensitive little sad bean. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, and certified silly goose
Someone seems to have started a small graveyard in the woods. There are several marked graves surrounding an apple tree. A graveyard keeper is tending to one of the graves. Her short crop of coal-black hair ends just below her chin, and she wears practical work clothes fit for a graveyard keeper. Something seems familiar about her… the locket, the watery brown eyes, the slight tinge of decomposition on her skin…
She hears the strumming of an electric guitar. A voice sings, androgynous and calm.
"Human minds, Frail and scared, Freed by death, and death is fair. Hopeless souls Play a part In my wicked work of art. Such relief Every time Taking life, to keep what's mine. At the end, Here we lie, Here we're killers or we die..."
A four-armed entity, neither demon nor angel, male nor female, organic nor artificial, stands a good thirty feet away. They are dressed in punk clothes, including a leather duster, cowboy hat, and goth makeup, and they carry an electric guitar.
*sorry about not responding, but Atticus can definitely join! And actually, you said he used the stats of a 2024 Lich, right? He’d probably be able to help fight back against Helianth a whole lot. I got a link to their stats, and while I haven’t checked it in a while, they only have about 220 health in total I think, the main thing you need to watch out for is the absurd regeneration. So they’d at least be able to fight back and do some damage*
*sorry about not responding, but Atticus can definitely join! And actually, you said he used the stats of a 2024 Lich, right? He’d probably be able to help fight back against Helianth a whole lot. I got a link to their stats, and while I haven’t checked it in a while, they only have about 220 health in total I think, the main thing you need to watch out for is the absurd regeneration. So they’d at least be able to fight back and do some damage*
*sorry about not responding, but Atticus can definitely join! And actually, you said he used the stats of a 2024 Lich, right? He’d probably be able to help fight back against Helianth a whole lot. I got a link to their stats, and while I haven’t checked it in a while, they only have about 220 health in total I think, the main thing you need to watch out for is the absurd regeneration. So they’d at least be able to fight back and do some damage*
*Chill Touch*
*that’d definitely do it!*
*in the mean time, care to roleplay? I have a new character I’ve been itching to try out.*
*sorry about not responding, but Atticus can definitely join! And actually, you said he used the stats of a 2024 Lich, right? He’d probably be able to help fight back against Helianth a whole lot. I got a link to their stats, and while I haven’t checked it in a while, they only have about 220 health in total I think, the main thing you need to watch out for is the absurd regeneration. So they’d at least be able to fight back and do some damage*
*Chill Touch*
*that’d definitely do it!*
*in the mean time, care to roleplay? I have a new character I’ve been itching to try out.*
*Also, his stats aren't the 2024 lich, but they are based on them.*
*I have like five minutes. The internet goes off at 9:00 here, 7:00 starting next Monday.*
this thread is really crazy now. I remember when it wasn't all gods and sh*t. Gods are cool but i like undead mundanity.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles) I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire who's always open to chat or share a fun fact or two. I'm a sensitive little sad bean. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, and certified silly goose
The smells of alcohol and butter fill the air, detectable even through the miasma of Helianth's latest spell. Four hands grab the edges of the rift from the inside, pulling it open further. A single yellow eye and a sharp-toothed grin become visible in the darkness.
A chubby, four-armed monstrosity jumps through the hole in reality, neither demon nor angel, male nor female, organic nor artificial, and playing an electric guitar. They are dressed in a style that mixes cowboy and your classic goth punk, and they are missing an eye already.
"WHO'S NEEEEEEXT!?!" They scream musically. Their eye lands on Helianth, and their grin widens.
"Take the world away and feed it to the night! Swallowing the light, it's the curse you're feeding! Spades are high, can't bury me alive, Twisting of the knife with their arms out pleading!"
They laugh and stomp the ground, causing a dome to appear around the combatants. A dome of hot, salted french fries. "The Barley King is mine!"
A new entity has arrived in the Autumn Country, from a far land where they rely on wits and skill to survive. He has no name, no face, no form discernible to the average eye. He simply is called the Hunter, a merciless foe whose worshippers hunt down prey just as mercilessly. His paramount hunters have even taken on attributes of his concept, becoming his Hands, Body, Eye, and Soul. The Hands, the Right Hand and the Left Hand, are constructs that are known for channeling his magic. The Body is a humanoid machine that represents the Hunter's unrelenting pursuit. The Eye is an shadowy, flying creature that represents the Hunter's keen vision, and the Soul is a human that represents the Hunter's morality. All who resist these die, and those who they mark as a quarry fare no better.
A new entity has arrived in the Autumn Country, from a far land where they rely on wits and skill to survive. He has no name, no face, no form discernible to the average eye. He simply is called the Hunter, a merciless foe whose worshippers hunt down prey just as mercilessly. His paramount hunters have even taken on attributes of his concept, becoming his Hands, Body, Eye, and Soul. The Hands, the Right Hand and the Left Hand, are constructs that are known for channeling his magic. The Body is a humanoid machine that represents the Hunter's unrelenting pursuit. The Eye is an shadowy, flying creature that represents the Hunter's keen vision, and the Soul is a human that represents the Hunter's morality. All who resist these die, and those who they mark as a quarry fare no better.
Beware.
*Looks like things are getting serious up in here*
*Atticus isn't gonna back down though, even if he absolutely should*
A new entity has arrived in the Autumn Country, from a far land where they rely on wits and skill to survive. He has no name, no face, no form discernible to the average eye. He simply is called the Hunter, a merciless foe whose worshippers hunt down prey just as mercilessly. His paramount hunters have even taken on attributes of his concept, becoming his Hands, Body, Eye, and Soul. The Hands, the Right Hand and the Left Hand, are constructs that are known for channeling his magic. The Body is a humanoid machine that represents the Hunter's unrelenting pursuit. The Eye is an shadowy, flying creature that represents the Hunter's keen vision, and the Soul is a human that represents the Hunter's morality. All who resist these die, and those who they mark as a quarry fare no better.
Beware.
*Looks like things are getting serious up in here*
*Atticus isn't gonna back down though, even if he absolutely should*
<Honestly, I don't really plan to roleplay as the Hunter, most likely just as his aspects. And he's less of an actual being and more of a concept and less of an actual being.>
A new entity has arrived in the Autumn Country, from a far land where they rely on wits and skill to survive. He has no name, no face, no form discernible to the average eye. He simply is called the Hunter, a merciless foe whose worshippers hunt down prey just as mercilessly. His paramount hunters have even taken on attributes of his concept, becoming his Hands, Body, Eye, and Soul. The Hands, the Right Hand and the Left Hand, are constructs that are known for channeling his magic. The Body is a humanoid machine that represents the Hunter's unrelenting pursuit. The Eye is an shadowy, flying creature that represents the Hunter's keen vision, and the Soul is a human that represents the Hunter's morality. All who resist these die, and those who they mark as a quarry fare no better.
Beware.
*Looks like things are getting serious up in here*
*Atticus isn't gonna back down though, even if he absolutely should*
<Honestly, I don't really plan to roleplay as the Hunter, most likely just as his aspects. And he's less of an actual being and more of a concept and less of an actual being.>
*Understandable. OP characters aren't all that fun, especially when they just play to that overwhelming strength at all times. Power should never be the point of a character, which is a mistake I've made many times.*
this thread is really crazy now. I remember when it wasn't all gods and sh*t. Gods are cool but i like undead mundanity.
*That's fair. I don't think you have to mess with the god politics if you don't want to. It can be just as interesting seeing the normal spirits live their daily lives/unlives.*
The smells of alcohol and butter fill the air, detectable even through the miasma of Helianth's latest spell. Four hands grab the edges of the rift from the inside, pulling it open further. A single yellow eye and a sharp-toothed grin become visible in the darkness.
A chubby, four-armed monstrosity jumps through the hole in reality, neither demon nor angel, male nor female, organic nor artificial, and playing an electric guitar. They are dressed in a style that mixes cowboy and your classic goth punk, and they are missing an eye already.
"WHO'S NEEEEEEXT!?!" They scream musically. Their eye lands on Helianth, and their grin widens.
"Take the world away and feed it to the night! Swallowing the light, it's the curse you're feeding! Spades are high, can't bury me alive, Twisting of the knife with their arms out pleading!"
They laugh and stomp the ground, causing a dome to appear around the combatants. A dome of hot, salted french fries. "The Barley King is mine!"
*Gooooooood morning, my lovely creatures and cryptids!*
The crooked god looks up at the new arrival with all nine of its flower heads, nine spheres of annihilation staring right back at them that seem to briefly flash with a vague recognition. "...Atticus, is that you?" It almost doesn't believe what it sees. "So this is your true form, hmm? I was always curious what you looked like when your soul wasn't occupying a cake effigy." Its flames shine ever brighter, a brilliant, dancing golden light of destruction.
"But that doesn't matter now. You know, I've only tasted the essences of quasi-deities and their angels..." It laughs a bit to itself, the light around it flickering as it always does. "I wonder what the soul of an archmage tastes like?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
The smells of alcohol and butter fill the air, detectable even through the miasma of Helianth's latest spell. Four hands grab the edges of the rift from the inside, pulling it open further. A single yellow eye and a sharp-toothed grin become visible in the darkness.
A chubby, four-armed monstrosity jumps through the hole in reality, neither demon nor angel, male nor female, organic nor artificial, and playing an electric guitar. They are dressed in a style that mixes cowboy and your classic goth punk, and they are missing an eye already.
"WHO'S NEEEEEEXT!?!" They scream musically. Their eye lands on Helianth, and their grin widens.
"Take the world away and feed it to the night! Swallowing the light, it's the curse you're feeding! Spades are high, can't bury me alive, Twisting of the knife with their arms out pleading!"
They laugh and stomp the ground, causing a dome to appear around the combatants. A dome of hot, salted french fries. "The Barley King is mine!"
*Gooooooood morning, my lovely creatures and cryptids!*
The crooked god looks up at the new arrival with all nine of its flower heads, nine spheres of annihilation staring right back at them that seem to briefly flash with a vague recognition. "...Atticus, is that you?" It almost doesn't believe what it sees. "So this is your true form, hmm? I was always curious what you looked like when your soul wasn't occupying a cake effigy." Its flames shine ever brighter, a brilliant, dancing golden light of destruction.
"But that doesn't matter now. You know, I've only tasted the essences of quasi-deities and their angels..." It laughs a bit to itself, the light around it flickering as it always does. "I wonder what the soul of an archmage tastes like?"
"You're welcome to have a taste, bud... after I get a taste of those sweetbreads!"
They keep playing their song, slowly turning in place until they're facing it again. "C'mon, snake! Let's rattle!" They seem to be having fun with this.
*Gooooooood morning, my lovely creatures and cryptids!*
The crooked god looks up at the new arrival with all nine of its flower heads, nine spheres of annihilation staring right back at them that seem to briefly flash with a vague recognition. "...Atticus, is that you?" It almost doesn't believe what it sees. "So this is your true form, hmm? I was always curious what you looked like when your soul wasn't occupying a cake effigy." Its flames shine ever brighter, a brilliant, dancing golden light of destruction.
"But that doesn't matter now. You know, I've only tasted the essences of quasi-deities and their angels..." It laughs a bit to itself, the light around it flickering as it always does. "I wonder what the soul of an archmage tastes like?"
"You're welcome to have a taste, bud... after I get a taste of those sweetbreads!"
They keep playing their song, slowly turning in place until they're facing it again. "C'mon, snake! Let's rattle!" They seem to be having fun with this.
"I'm afraid that won't be happening- the Barley King will be leaving with me. Alive." It hisses in response, not seeming to care for their performance in the least. The god-eater continues to stare them down, twitching with an anticipatory hunger that impatiently waits to devour their very life essence. "I'll let you make the first move- with how you helped me back then, you deserve to have a fighting chance."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
The first hound's fang's strike true, the crooked god eater having one of its wings torn from its body as it shrieks with pain and utter rage. Like before, the wound quickly begins to heal and regrow, but the wing doesn't fully reform just yet. The lantern hound takes 8 fire damage from Helianth's Fire Shield spell, as golden flames billow forth and sear its semi-corporeal flesh.
The divine glutton casts a Quickened Cloudkill, a shimmering, sickly-sweet miasma pouring forth from its flower heads like a dragon's breath. It tries to catch both of the Lantern Hounds in the cloud's radius, but if it can't it focuses on just the one that successfully wounded it. At the start of the affected hounds' turns, they will need to make DC 20 Constitution saves, taking 18 poison damage on a failed save, or half as much on a success. As its main action, Helianth uses its Channel Divinity to conjure a Far Rift, making the tear in the fabric of reality appear directly in the center of the noxious cloud. Thorny tendrils of darkness lash out at both the hounds, attempting to drag them closer into the rift. Both need to make DC 20 Dexterity saves, being pulled 20 feet closer to the rift on a failure. If one of the hounds is pulled inside the rift's 5-foot radius, it takes 36 psychic damage as it glimpses things not meant for mortal eyes to see.
Then, as its Godly Action, it once again uses Kill the Lights, trying to devour their very life essences. 14 cold damage plus 15 necrotic damage.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Mind if I jump in? This seems like a good moment to add a complication.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
*Anyone on?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Someone seems to have started a small graveyard in the woods. There are several marked graves surrounding an apple tree. A graveyard keeper is tending to one of the graves. Her short crop of coal-black hair ends just below her chin, and she wears practical work clothes fit for a graveyard keeper. Something seems familiar about her… the locket, the watery brown eyes, the slight tinge of decomposition on her skin…
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire who's always open to chat or share a fun fact or two.
I'm a sensitive little sad bean. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world.
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, and certified silly goose
She hears the strumming of an electric guitar. A voice sings, androgynous and calm.
"Human minds,
Frail and scared,
Freed by death, and death is fair.
Hopeless souls
Play a part
In my wicked work of art.
Such relief
Every time
Taking life, to keep what's mine.
At the end,
Here we lie,
Here we're killers or we die..."
A four-armed entity, neither demon nor angel, male nor female, organic nor artificial, stands a good thirty feet away. They are dressed in punk clothes, including a leather duster, cowboy hat, and goth makeup, and they carry an electric guitar.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
*Atticus will join the fight tomorrow, and will likely die because Helianth is a literal god at this point.*
*I doubt I have the time to write a cool intro anyway.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
*sorry about not responding, but Atticus can definitely join! And actually, you said he used the stats of a 2024 Lich, right? He’d probably be able to help fight back against Helianth a whole lot. I got a link to their stats, and while I haven’t checked it in a while, they only have about 220 health in total I think, the main thing you need to watch out for is the absurd regeneration. So they’d at least be able to fight back and do some damage*
*Chill Touch*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
*that’d definitely do it!*
*in the mean time, care to roleplay? I have a new character I’ve been itching to try out.*
*Also, his stats aren't the 2024 lich, but they are based on them.*
*I have like five minutes. The internet goes off at 9:00 here, 7:00 starting next Monday.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
this thread is really crazy now. I remember when it wasn't all gods and sh*t. Gods are cool but i like undead mundanity.
I'm fry, and I make doodles. That's why they call me FRY DOODLES. Also no pressure but check out my YouTube channel (Fry Doodles)
I'm a disabled, neurodivergent, artsy dumpster fire who's always open to chat or share a fun fact or two.
I'm a sensitive little sad bean. But, I'm also god's favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world.
Crafter of Constellations, vocaloid enjoyer, waluigi’s #1 fan, space alien, and certified silly goose
*Musical Accompaniment*
The smells of alcohol and butter fill the air, detectable even through the miasma of Helianth's latest spell. Four hands grab the edges of the rift from the inside, pulling it open further. A single yellow eye and a sharp-toothed grin become visible in the darkness.
A chubby, four-armed monstrosity jumps through the hole in reality, neither demon nor angel, male nor female, organic nor artificial, and playing an electric guitar. They are dressed in a style that mixes cowboy and your classic goth punk, and they are missing an eye already.
"WHO'S NEEEEEEXT!?!" They scream musically. Their eye lands on Helianth, and their grin widens.
"Take the world away and feed it to the night!
Swallowing the light, it's the curse you're feeding!
Spades are high, can't bury me alive,
Twisting of the knife with their arms out pleading!"
They laugh and stomp the ground, causing a dome to appear around the combatants. A dome of hot, salted french fries. "The Barley King is mine!"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
A new entity has arrived in the Autumn Country, from a far land where they rely on wits and skill to survive. He has no name, no face, no form discernible to the average eye. He simply is called the Hunter, a merciless foe whose worshippers hunt down prey just as mercilessly. His paramount hunters have even taken on attributes of his concept, becoming his Hands, Body, Eye, and Soul. The Hands, the Right Hand and the Left Hand, are constructs that are known for channeling his magic. The Body is a humanoid machine that represents the Hunter's unrelenting pursuit. The Eye is an shadowy, flying creature that represents the Hunter's keen vision, and the Soul is a human that represents the Hunter's morality. All who resist these die, and those who they mark as a quarry fare no better.
Beware.
Roll for Initiative: [roll]1d20+7[/roll]
Proud member of the EVIL JEFF CULT! PRAISE JEFF!
Homebrew Races: HERE Homebrew Spells: HERE Homebrew Monsters: HERE
MORE OF ME! (And platypodes/platypi/platypuses) (Extended signature)
*Looks like things are getting serious up in here*
*Atticus isn't gonna back down though, even if he absolutely should*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
<Honestly, I don't really plan to roleplay as the Hunter, most likely just as his aspects. And he's less of an actual being and more of a concept and less of an actual being.>
Roll for Initiative: [roll]1d20+7[/roll]
Proud member of the EVIL JEFF CULT! PRAISE JEFF!
Homebrew Races: HERE Homebrew Spells: HERE Homebrew Monsters: HERE
MORE OF ME! (And platypodes/platypi/platypuses) (Extended signature)
*Understandable. OP characters aren't all that fun, especially when they just play to that overwhelming strength at all times. Power should never be the point of a character, which is a mistake I've made many times.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
*That's fair. I don't think you have to mess with the god politics if you don't want to. It can be just as interesting seeing the normal spirits live their daily lives/unlives.*
*Gooooooood morning, my lovely creatures and cryptids!*
The crooked god looks up at the new arrival with all nine of its flower heads, nine spheres of annihilation staring right back at them that seem to briefly flash with a vague recognition. "...Atticus, is that you?" It almost doesn't believe what it sees. "So this is your true form, hmm? I was always curious what you looked like when your soul wasn't occupying a cake effigy." Its flames shine ever brighter, a brilliant, dancing golden light of destruction.
"But that doesn't matter now. You know, I've only tasted the essences of quasi-deities and their angels..." It laughs a bit to itself, the light around it flickering as it always does. "I wonder what the soul of an archmage tastes like?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"You're welcome to have a taste, bud... after I get a taste of those sweetbreads!"
They keep playing their song, slowly turning in place until they're facing it again. "C'mon, snake! Let's rattle!" They seem to be having fun with this.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
"I'm afraid that won't be happening- the Barley King will be leaving with me. Alive." It hisses in response, not seeming to care for their performance in the least. The god-eater continues to stare them down, twitching with an anticipatory hunger that impatiently waits to devour their very life essence. "I'll let you make the first move- with how you helped me back then, you deserve to have a fighting chance."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)