bored-worldbuilder

[bored-worldbuilder]

One of those dark n spooky hunting cam setups, but despite the obvious presence of deer, foxes, skunks, etc, going about their normal business, the camera is otherwise indisputably filming from the ocean floor.

[bored-worldbuilder]

Stealing this

I bet if a mushroom could lap water out of your hand with a tongue that a gently drinking mushroom tongue on your hand would be the softest and gentlest thing.

[bored-worldbuilder]

Literal definition of spyware:

Also From Microsoft’s own FAQ: "Note that Recall does not perform content moderation. It will not hide information such as passwords or financial account numbers. 🤡

[bored-worldbuilder]

i think we as a society need to use cell phones/laptops/cars/backpacks to flesh out characters

[bored-worldbuilder]

Character inspo that started all this

Had a character concept/Backstory kinda run away on me into this long story that I thought I might share. Had a lot of fun with the formatting tho I may have gone a little overboard with it.

Feel free to include these characters or story in your campaigns just please don't put them in anything commercial like a book, or even a fanfic site. Also like share it with me if you use my stuff cause that's cool.

Content Warning: graphic descriptions of violence, vehicle accident, overall dark tone

G'rard was a man, a husband, a masterful knight and general.. was.

Elandra was a woman, a wife, an herbalist and arborist.. was.

---

It had been over a year since he saw his wife and that had been at a court ball. She was so beautiful. It had been even longer since he set foot in his home. It was a small cottage just outside of his home village. He had been offered land or even a manor in the capital but he always refused. 'could never ask her to move away from the woods she so loves.

The carriage jolts bringing G'rard back to reality and out of his daydreaming. He was already staring out the window but with his attention actually focused he notices how close to his destination he was. Home The road got rougher as they entered the forest. Looking down he closes his book, an old worn bestiary that he habitually reads, "A good knight knows how to dispatch any potential enemies." he remembers the words his old knight captain drilled into him causing a shiver to race up his spine. He was so cruel. Catching himself before his mind starts wandering again he put his book in his satchel getting ready to finally arrive home. My Elandra will be so happy to see me.

Suddenly he feels the familiar sensation of adrenaline coursing through him. Fuck. Time slows to a crawl as he searches for what his subconscious intuition has flagged as a threat Where is it?! His heart drops as he recognizes the smell of smoke, a smoke familiar to a knight HOUSEFIRE. Screams echo through the woods Elandra! Before he can react he feels the rush of immense heat as a ball of fire crashes into the side of the carriage knocking it on its side. G'rard comes to, the sound of a man screaming ringing in his ears, as he gathers his bearings and looks for the man he realizes his throat and chest hurt and he is the source. Shit. Not good. Pulling himself up and out of the side door of the carriage that's now at the top of it. He drops onto the ground as his left leg buckles under him and pain thrums. Broken. Blood starts to pool against his shirt. My sword cut me in the crash.

He doesn't care, he barely feels it he has to get home. He pulls himself up against the carriage and starts moving towards the burning cottage. Rushing The Figure standing over his wife he draws his sword and slashes towards the figure but it.. doesn't connect? A sudden pain fills his body as his arm thuds to the ground. G'rard looks up just in time to see his advocacy's blade come back down and carve across his face painting a searing pain as half his vision goes red. Doesn't matter SAVE HER!! He goes to strike again this time with his fist, it's all he has left. When he suddenly finds himself on the ground his advocacy having knocked his broken leg out from under him NOO SAVE HER DAMN IT!! It gets significantly harder to breathe as his advocacy drives their blade clean through his back piercing his right lung before putting their boot on his back to pull it out twisting and grinding it against his ribs and spine. Finally it's clear to G'rard that he's completely out matched and going to die without saving the one he loves. He looks to his wife one last time and his stomach turns in knots and his heart is broken. she.. she's not breathing. His adrenaline fades and with it his consciousness.

Waking up was surprising, wishing he was in a different kind of hell than he was currently in. He opens his eyes to see it's now dark; the glow from the embers of his home the only light left in the forest. Elandra. He crawls to his wife's side and holds her with his remaining arm. I'm sorry.. I'm so fucking sorry I couldn't save you... and I'm sorry I'm not ready to give you up. G'rard's whole life had flashed before his eyes while he was unconscious and in that he remembered something from his bestiary Revenant. "The spirit of a recently deceased is bound to a body using a seal drawn from blood with a purpose; usually the hunting of the one who killed the spirit.." That's the part he remembered anyway. It was a lot of words and the undead have such similar weaknesses so he usually skimmed that chapter, something he's regretting now. He may not remember the words but what he did remember was the pictures, including an example seal. I can do this,I.. I *have* to do this. I'm bring her back. He pressed his hand against her jagged wounds. Oh love, those must have been painful, that blade was designed for torture. Dragging his bloody hand against the stone porch he traces the seal he remembers. However G'rard made a mistake he wasn't thinking about his own wounds and his wife's blood wasn't the only blood on his hand... Something is wrong. I..I don't think I did this right. His entire body fills with searing white hot pain like pouring liquid sunlight through his veins and he finds himself screaming again as his eyes slam shut.

---

Elandra was spending her day resting in bed after spending all of yesterday cleaning and preparing for her husband's return. She feels her heart jump as she hears a knock on the door. Odd I didn't hear the carriage? As she gets up and approaches the door with a gitty prance of a walk she suddenly feels nauseous finally noticing the smell of aether, she stops, her hand resting on the handle That is Not my husband. Who/Whatever is on the other side of the door knocks again harder this time. Elandra is still frozen in fear, her mind racing about what could be on the other side of the door and what to do about it.

It pounds against the door again this time cracking the door with the force. What the fuck. Elandra startled takes a step back which saves her life as the door explodes in a ball of fire knocking her back against some shelves. The door splinters, pieces of it embed into her body the largest about the size of her forearm was in her gut off to one side. FUUUUCKK. The Entity that's no longer behind the door is a huge person? humanoid thing in a large black cloak. Honestly actually seeing this thing doesn't actually help me identify what the fuck it is. It stalks twords her ducking its head slightly as it passed through the hole where the door used to be. He will save me. She struggles but it grabs her leg and drags her out of the now burning house and onto the stone porch. He'll be home any second to save me.

Elandra finds it hard to move at all against the pain of her injuries as it grabs the large chunk of wood in her gut, first pressing it deeper before twisting and pulling it out; causing shrieks of pain to come from her. It pulls out a large wavy blade but at this point the pain was so overwhelming there wasn't much she could do as it carved the remaining shards of wood out slowly torturing her. Fuuuck. G'rard please save me.

As she screamed suddenly It stopped and turned around, something happened and there was an explosion and a crash. what's happening?? She hushed her screaming, suppressing it to better listen to what was happening when she heard something that made her blood run cold. Her husband. Her hero was screaming in agony. no nonononono he'll save me, he has to save me, he'll save me, right? Her vision goes dark, the last sensation she feels is her pulse fade.

---

They open their eyes to see their spouse's?/own? face it looked ghostly/injured. What's going on? I don't know. Something was wrong they remember losing an eye so why can they see even more than before? They remember dying bleeding out calling for their husband so how are they here? Wait I did the ritual what happened? Why is she just a ghost? what ritual? How am I not dead? It finally clicks G'rard did the ritual to bind her spirit with a mix of their blood binding her spirit to his body instead of hers. Understanding this she takes her place in their body, as she does this they notice their wounds have unnaturally closed. They stand, out of reflex they lean to use their dominant hand to brace themself Elandra's ghostly hand faintly glows as it presses against the ground. huh I guess that works

They walk to the carriage still on it's side several feet off the road, the driver's burnt corpse was laying in the road. We should probably feel something about that.. we would have before. The horses are nowhere to be seen. I wonder? They reach through the bottom of the carriage with their ghostly hand and grab their satchel tossing it up and out of the carriage catching it in their body's hand. neat They retrieve the bestiary flipping through to find the entry on revenants but unfortunately there's nothing on living revenants. Fuck are we unique or something?

They look back at the smoldering house Do we.. burry your/my the body? I guess not It's not like it would do anything. They turn and start walking to the village. Time to kill the one that killed us.

[bored-worldbuilder]

Had a character concept/Backstory kinda run away on me into this long story that I thought I might share. Had a lot of fun with the formatting tho I may have gone a little overboard with it.

Feel free to include these characters or story in your campaigns just please don't put them in anything commercial like a book, or even a fanfic site. Also like share it with me if you use my stuff cause that's cool.

Content Warning: graphic descriptions of violence, vehicle accident, overall dark tone

G'rard was a man, a husband, a masterful knight and general.. was.

Elandra was a woman, a wife, an herbalist and arborist.. was.

---

It had been over a year since he saw his wife and that had been at a court ball. She was so beautiful. It had been even longer since he set foot in his home. It was a small cottage just outside of his home village. He had been offered land or even a manor in the capital but he always refused. 'could never ask her to move away from the woods she so loves.

The carriage jolts bringing G'rard back to reality and out of his daydreaming. He was already staring out the window but with his attention actually focused he notices how close to his destination he was. Home The road got rougher as they entered the forest. Looking down he closes his book, an old worn bestiary that he habitually reads, "A good knight knows how to dispatch any potential enemies." he remembers the words his old knight captain drilled into him causing a shiver to race up his spine. He was so cruel. Catching himself before his mind starts wandering again he put his book in his satchel getting ready to finally arrive home. My Elandra will be so happy to see me.

Suddenly he feels the familiar sensation of adrenaline coursing through him. Fuck. Time slows to a crawl as he searches for what his subconscious intuition has flagged as a threat Where is it?! His heart drops as he recognizes the smell of smoke, a smoke familiar to a knight HOUSEFIRE. Screams echo through the woods Elandra! Before he can react he feels the rush of immense heat as a ball of fire crashes into the side of the carriage knocking it on its side. G'rard comes to, the sound of a man screaming ringing in his ears, as he gathers his bearings and looks for the man he realizes his throat and chest hurt and he is the source. Shit. Not good. Pulling himself up and out of the side door of the carriage that's now at the top of it. He drops onto the ground as his left leg buckles under him and pain thrums. Broken. Blood starts to pool against his shirt. My sword cut me in the crash.

He doesn't care, he barely feels it he has to get home. He pulls himself up against the carriage and starts moving towards the burning cottage. Rushing The Figure standing over his wife he draws his sword and slashes towards the figure but it.. doesn't connect? A sudden pain fills his body as his arm thuds to the ground. G'rard looks up just in time to see his adversary's blade come back down and carve across his face painting a searing pain as half his vision goes red. Doesn't matter SAVE HER!! He goes to strike again this time with his fist, it's all he has left. When he suddenly finds himself on the ground his adversary having knocked his broken leg out from under him NOO SAVE HER DAMN IT!! It gets significantly harder to breathe as his adversary drives their blade clean through his back piercing his right lung before putting their boot on his back to pull it out twisting and grinding it against his ribs and spine. Finally it's clear to G'rard that he's completely out matched and going to die without saving the one he loves. He looks to his wife one last time and his stomach turns in knots and his heart is broken. she.. she's not breathing. His adrenaline fades and with it his consciousness.

Waking up was surprising, wishing he was in a different kind of hell than he was currently in. He opens his eyes to see it's now dark; the glow from the embers of his home the only light left in the forest. Elandra. He crawls to his wife's side and holds her with his remaining arm. I'm sorry.. I'm so fucking sorry I couldn't save you... and I'm sorry I'm not ready to give you up. G'rard's whole life had flashed before his eyes while he was unconscious and in that he remembered something from his bestiary Revenant. "The spirit of a recently deceased is bound to a body using a seal drawn from blood with a purpose; usually the hunting of the one who killed the spirit.." That's the part he remembered anyway. It was a lot of words and the undead have such similar weaknesses so he usually skimmed that chapter, something he's regretting now. He may not remember the words but what he did remember was the pictures, including an example seal. I can do this,I.. I *have* to do this. I'm going to bring her back. He pressed his hand against her jagged wounds. Oh love, those must have been painful, that blade was designed for torture. Dragging his bloody hand against the stone porch he traces the seal he remembers. However G'rard made a mistake he wasn't thinking about his own wounds and his wife's blood wasn't the only blood on his hand... Something is wrong. I..I don't think I did this right. His entire body fills with searing white hot pain like pouring liquid sunlight through his veins and he finds himself screaming again as his eyes slam shut.

---

Elandra was spending her day resting in bed after spending all of yesterday cleaning and preparing for her husband's return. She feels her heart jump as she hears a knock on the door. Odd I didn't hear the carriage? As she gets up and approaches the door with a gitty prance of a walk she suddenly feels nauseous finally noticing the smell of aether, she stops, her hand resting on the handle That is Not my husband. Who/Whatever is on the other side of the door knocks again harder this time. Elandra is still frozen in fear, her mind racing about what could be on the other side of the door and what to do about it.

It pounds against the door again this time cracking the door with the force. What the fuck. Elandra startled takes a step back which saves her life as the door explodes in a ball of fire knocking her back against some shelves. The door splinters, pieces of it embed into her body the largest about the size of her forearm was in her gut off to one side. FUUUUCKK. The Entity that's no longer behind the door is a huge person? humanoid thing in a large black cloak. Honestly actually seeing this thing doesn't actually help me identify what the fuck it is. It stalks twords her ducking its head slightly as it passed through the hole where the door used to be. He will save me. She struggles but it grabs her leg and drags her out of the now burning house and onto the stone porch. He'll be home any second to save me.

Elandra finds it hard to move at all against the pain of her injuries as it grabs the large chunk of wood in her gut, first pressing it deeper before twisting and pulling it out; causing shrieks of pain to come from her. It pulls out a large wavy blade but at this point the pain was so overwhelming there wasn't much she could do as it carved the remaining shards of wood out slowly torturing her. Fuuuck. G'rard please save me.

As she screamed suddenly It stopped and turned around, something happened and there was an explosion and a crash. what's happening?? She hushed her screaming, suppressing it to better listen to what was happening when she heard something that made her blood run cold. Her husband. Her hero was screaming in agony. no nonononono he'll save me, he has to save me, he'll save me, right? Her vision goes dark, the last sensation she feels is her pulse fade.

---

They open their eyes to see their spouse's?/own? face it looked ghostly/injured. What's going on? I don't know. Something was wrong they remember losing an eye so why can they see even more than before? They remember dying bleeding out calling for their husband so how are they here? Wait I did the ritual what happened? Why is she just a ghost? what ritual? How am I not dead? It finally clicks G'rard did the ritual to bind her spirit with a mix of their blood binding her spirit to his body instead of hers. Understanding this she takes her place in their body, as she does this they notice their wounds have unnaturally closed. They stand, out of reflex they lean to use their dominant hand to brace themself Elandra's ghostly hand faintly glows as it presses against the ground. huh I guess that works

They walk to the carriage still on it's side several feet off the road, the driver's burnt corpse was laying in the road. We should probably feel something about that.. we would have before. The horses are nowhere to be seen. I wonder? They reach through the bottom of the carriage with their ghostly hand and grab their satchel tossing it up and out of the carriage catching it in their body's hand. neat They retrieve the bestiary flipping through to find the entry on revenants but unfortunately there's nothing on living revenants. Fuck are we unique or something?

They look back at the smoldering house Do we.. burry your/my the body? I guess not It's not like it would do anything. They turn and start walking to the village. Time to kill the one that killed us.

[bored-worldbuilder]

Making some example spells for my system and I'm obsessed with my nature transmutation spell "Flesh to Moss". A spell that targets a creature and turns a portion of their skin and flesh into moss, its roots burrow into their body and deal damage and additional damage when the creature moves and it makes it easier to set the target on fire.

Basically I think druid spells need more body horror as nature consumes your enemies. Plus a spell that deals damage when the target moves would be perfect for hunting which makes it even more fitting for characters who live off the land in the forest.

[bored-worldbuilder]

Yooooo money snake

This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 

[bored-worldbuilder]

An old wizened man approaches a young man as they leave their village determined to become an adventurer.

The old man speaks to them of honor and bravery he assesses them and sees the fire burning in their eyes.

Once he is certain the young man has what it takes to adventure his tone changes to a soft somber whisper.

"You shall become an adventurer of that I am sure, however you will need this."

The old man lifts his cloak revealing an unassuming mundane sword.

"The life of an adventurer is one of danger and conflict."

As the young man is handed the blade he thanks his elder.

"Thank you for this kind gift, it will keep me safe on my adventures."

The old man frowns a deep soulful sorrow growing on his face.

"You are wrong, this is no gift for no weapon has granted protection, they bring only death. What I have placed in your hands is a curse one that will end the lives of those around you and one day will surely seal your fate as well. I dearly hope you can forgive me for the weight I have placed upon your soul."

Before the young man can respond the old man fades away, his cloak blowing away in the wind leaving the young adventurer standing with their sword in hand and a new understanding of the path that lay before them, one they have chosen.

(inspired from a Zelda parody comic by Zac Gorman)

[bored-worldbuilder]

Moments in time, preserved through sentiments Twitter | Ko-Fi | Patreon

[bored-worldbuilder]

Wait a minute if elves take a hundred years to grow up that has some weird implications.

So… if we say a human comes of age in fantasy worlds at 16, that means it takes an elf 6.25 years to age one human year. If we say the age of maturity is 18 that’s 5.55 years.

So then… okay with people that live a long time have to see their human friends die and probably see them like pets yeah that’s been explored to death. But what about a human just seeing their friend not grow up?

An elf toddler and a human toddler become friends at a playdate. At the time the human is two and the elf is 13. Emotionally the elf is just a little older than the human. But then the human grows up. He grows up and as he grows up his friend doesn’t. Not much, anyways.

She’s still sucking her thumb and throwing tantrums the entire time that he grows up. When he reaches the age where he’d choose a trade or go to an academy he’s earning extra money by babysitting her. During his initiation into adulthood on his 18th birthday she’s there with her parents holding a stuffed animal. Later that afternoon he sees her being shown some colorful flashcards with letters of the elvish alphabet on it by her father.

The human gets older. He learns how to fight, he goes from town to town getting work. At some point he joins the army. Every time he visits his hometown he has at least one more scar and by the time he’s 30 and the elf girl is mentally seven by human standards she starts to understand that something is wrong. Even after he settles down to be a home maker for the local blacksmith something feels wrong.

And she watches him grow old. When she’s in her 80s she babysits his grandchildren for extra cash after school, coming over in her school robes and ruffling his hair. She doesn’t remember why she became friends with this human or when but a strange sense of jealousy fills her heart.

Now she realizes it. She realizes it too late, on the day her friend learns that he is dying. The first day of her 100th year and the start of his last. Humans’ lifetimes may only last for the childhood of an elf if they’re lucky, but they learn so fast. They do so much. They cram their days full of love and hate and learning and wonder.

He knew this was coming. He knew all of this decades before she did, because elves are slow. Not stupid, certainly not stupid, but very very slow. She holds her old friend’s hand as he lays down on his bed. A man that has led such an ordinary life but feels so extraordinary to her. Because he has always, always been there and now he just won’t. Because in her eyes he became so wise so fast and now he’s just gonna be gone.

On an elf’s 100th birthday they are allowed to choose a new name for themselves. It can be important, or not. Usually it will follow them until the end of time. She stands in front of her family’s elders and is asked what name she will be called from now on.

She names herself after him.

[bored-worldbuilder]

A warlock patron who just wants snacks, they appear during rests and grab a sandwich before refilling the warlocks spell slots

[bored-worldbuilder]

Tips for world builder GMs struggling to organically inject your lore into a games.

1. Give your players a non combatant npc that wants to join the party, this could be a local guide, a traveling storyteller, or even a historian looking for travel companions to keep them safe.

2. Resting is a perfect time to add RP and extra dialogue. I'd recommend rumors, warnings, and tips be told during short rests, I'd recommend keeping short rest dialogue to around the length of a loading screen tip. Long rests are where you can fit full length campfire stories and myths in.

3. Make your lore useful. This is by far the most important tip, if your stories and lore have useful information and leads your players will not only be willing to sit through 15-20 minute stories but they will seek them out. If you are telling a story about a monster infested area throw in that it's so dangerous a monster hunter tried to clear the area and died in the process. Then allow your players to find their body or camp and loot useful supplies that are specifically helpful against the local monsters since the hunter knew what they were doing.

[bored-worldbuilder]

Hi I'm a world builder and wannabe DM. I am making an entire world by hand, taking my creations for your games is not only allowed but encouraged.

I'm starting with a series on the peoples of my world, the different species (aka fantasy "race") and their cultures. I take lots of inspiration from all over and my goal is to keep them extremely recognizable while making sure they are unique and interesting.

I also am trying to remove all problematic or hurtful aspects (e.g. all the antisemitism all over fantasy themes) if I miss anything feel free to tell me and I will try my best to respond with a tweak/removal or explanation why I don't think it needs one.

[bored-worldbuilder]

A desperate cleric slamming every healing spell so hard to bring someone back to life the ground is forced to grow plants and flowers around the body.

[bored-worldbuilder]

Enriched uranium sword with a lead sheathe that is rumored to slowly kill its owner in exchange for god killing power.

[bored-worldbuilder]

Wow I hope you like it