#Dungeons and Dragons story

[8bitandbey0nd]

Started A D&D podcast thing with my friends you can find the playlist here if you are interested:

[finnissilly]

Hello I wrote something and I’d like to share, this takes place 5 years prior to the campaign.

TW for horror aspects (specifically body horror)

A larger figure had sat hunched against a great tree, they’d had darker blue skin along with a pink nose, wearing floral and lighter colored clothing, as they’d sported a massive braid that reached down to their knees.

They’d sat there as they’d been contemplating, gazing upon their hand.

They’d brushed their long bangs out of their face that’d usually be covering their eyes- revealing their heterochromia and scars thrashed against his face.

Two by their eye, looking almost of the resemblance of claw markings, the other being a strange cross like symbol on their forehead that went over an attempt at a red circular tattoo.

He let out a long sigh as he’d attempted to cast a spell but. Nothing had come out..

“What’s happening…” he spoke softly to himself.

For this hadn’t been the first time this had happened to him, he’d recalled other events where his abilities hadn’t worked to their fullest extent and hadn’t done what they’re supposed to.

Thinking back on it as their fluff filled pointed ears slanted down in a sort of distress.

They’d thought about what had happened earlier today and the thoughts of it irked him.

He made a fist of his hands and pulled his legs in, as if it was an attempt to make himself smaller.

Granted making themselves smaller was hard as they were towering at 8 ft tall from being a firbolg- a descendant of the giants. Other physical traits of his race had included bluish skin, pointed ears that almost looked animalistic, and a rosy pink nose.

“Fern?” A familiar voice spoke, looking over and recognizing the voice to the figure- standing at 6 ft tall, dark hair with a few gray streaks within the hair as a nod to how old he was, to anyone who didn’t know any better would say he’s in his 40’s, in reality he was in his late 300’s.

He wore dark clothing and had rather pale skin with many scars aligned across it. He’d recognized this person as his friend Miles.

“Are uh.. you okay..?” He’d asked him. Fern just glanced at him, then to the ground as they’d gone into deep thought, tears began to trickle down their face.

He’d pulled up his legs to his chest and hugged them tightly as they put their head down.

The other had frowned at this and quietly went to sit down next to him.

“Something’s wrong- with me! I know something’s wrong!” The firbolg yelled in an upset tone, frantically wiping their face.

“I- today You- Kilo- I..” she sniffled.

Miles stayed silent as his friend spoke, he just listened for whatever Fern had to get off her chest.

“Augh- I! I’m a warlock! And I can’t even do what I’m supposed to- my powers? Bloody fuckin useless!” He stood up and ranted as he’d paced angrily- more at himself than anything.

“I can’t do the ONE thing I’m really supposed to do- and, you- you could’ve died because of me! Why aren’t you angry, why aren’t you tearing me a new one???”

Miles just sat there for a moment, processing what Fern had said. “..wait- are you upset because you missed your spell attack..? Kilo and I handled it fine-“

“No! You don’t get it! Because I MISSED, MY attack- you two got hurt, that scar is a mark of proof for that-“ Fern pointed at Miles’ scar on his neck. “and! That fight would’ve been done sooner if I hadn’t bloody fuckin’ missed! Not even JUST missed but the wrong spell coming out too??” He seemed frustrated and upset.

Miles stayed silent for a moment as he’d think of what to respond with

“..Okay, yeah I have a new scar from that- sure. But I don’t blame- you for that I-“ Miles paused before whispering “god Kilo is better with these types of conversations than I am..” he sighed before thinking “do you think you could seek communication with your patron in any way..?” Miles suggested.

Fern had perked up at that as their ears twitched.

“You’re right- I can..! Wait.” He paused.

“What..?” Miles replied confused.

Fern then had frantically searched their pockets, before grabbing out a compass, “what the hell..” Fern spoke as she examined the compass which seemed to be spinning all around the place. “That’s… new..” Fern spoke as she stared at it, investigating the compass for any cracks or physical flaws- but couldn’t find anything. Just a forever spinning needle.

“It’s.. supposed to always point to her but- this isn’t.. unless she’s playing some weird prank where she’s actually just- right in front of me and spinning around me while.. invisible. Which- yes I can absolutely see her doin. But- that wouldn’t explain my powers..” he spoke before thinking for a bit.

“Come to think of it..” he paused “I haven’t gotten any messages from her in ages.. about a month If I can remember correctly and… that’s around the time when this first started happening’ to me with me powers…”

“So.. you think it’s connected..?” Miles asked.

“Yeah no bloody fuckin shit sherlock it’s gotta be-!” Fern exclaimed in a bit rude tone before pausing “Sorry- I know you’re just tryin’ to help.” Fern sighed, Miles just shrugged.

Fern defeatedly made his way back to sit next to Miles within the vast forest the two were camped at.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do now… a warlock who can’t use their own powers? And whose patron is…'' he stopped as Fern spoke sadly, slumping over.

He didn’t want to assume the worst but he didn’t know what to do, they were in their own head trying to piece together what was happening and why it was happening.

Starting to spiral as they’d curled up into a ball, hugging their knees again.

Miles reached a hand over to place on him gently as a sort of comfort, which snapped Fern out of it.

“Sorry I know I’m not as good with words as Kilo is- but I know we’ll figure this out.” He spoke as Fern nodded softly as he sighed.

Miles took his hand away and just leaned against the tree, the two sitting in silence before Miles broke it.

“In the meantime- you can practice more of that hand-to-hand type combat.” Miles spoke with a small laugh, attempting to lighten the mood as Fern chuckled.

“Ah c’mon you know I’m rubbish at that“ Fern spoke, shaking their head as they’d fixed their bangs back into their original place.

“All the more reason to practice it- c’mon now, you don’t think I was always good at punching people in the face do you?” Miles joked.

“pff- I dunno you seem to surprise me everyday.” Fern chuckled.

The two sat there in silence for a while, not an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but one of the comfort of two friends who’d cared about one another deeply.

As the night carried out, Fern was attempting to piece together what was happening and why.

They’d finally gone to lay down in their tent at the end of the day, letting themself drift to sleep.

When their eyes opened, they were back home, within the deep and vast forests that existed in the mountains with their firbolg community. Spotting familiar faces left and right as they finally found them, and everything was okay.

They’d played amongst old friends and family, playing tricks and pranks on them as they’d loved to do.

Playing hide and seek with the younger ones was always fun with having the abilities to turn invisible or change your height.

Hearing the birds chirp happily as they’d built their nests, hearing distant trots of deer as they’d gone to find their families, the howls of wolves who were commencing a hunt, the yips of foxes who played amongst one another.

Everything in nature was at peace and at balance.. just as it should be and what Fern and the Firbolgs lived to protect.

“Fern..” a distorted voice called out, as he turned around to see an abomination of different people throughout her life, his family, his friends, the cultists, even Miles and Kilo.

Meshed into one big nightmarish creature- inhuman legs sticking from it that looked as if they were different slumps of flesh and bones,

The creature hovered over Fern as it had looked like it was melting, only just let into creation and already falling apart.

Fern trembled as their eyes widened, frozen in fear. “Why did you run Fern?” It asked with its hellish voices, as the flesh and heads bubbled and popped.

“all you do is run.. run from your parents.. your home… your…. Cult.. even your feelings!” It towered over Fern as a neck extended from it, the face meeting with him being of one he couldn’t recognize, too distorted to put a finger on.

“You run, and run and RUN.” It screamed at him as the surrounding area set fire, the forest thrives in the fire, as a town was soon spotted behind the monster.. commotion between the town and the forest rose.

Fern hyperventilated, panicking- as they were able to snap out of it before making a run for it.

The creature running after him as it screamed “YOU CAN'T RUN FOREVER FERNIE!”

He breathed out heavily, as they’d tripped and tumbled down a hill, rolling and rolling on the steepness of it.

She groaned as she hit the bottom of it, but it was quieter now.. hearing instead of fire and a monstrosity of his past screaming at him, but a shimmering sound.. looking up he was.. well in the feywild again.

“What the..'' looking around and spotting Maryweather’s home, a small cottage in the middle of a meadow that edged on a beautiful forest.. She never did quite like modern civilization.

Fern panted, standing up before running to her home, reaching to her door to knock on it, not even one knock in the house had been engulfed into flames as she gasped, falling onto her back as she closed her eyes, opening to meet the creature back and directly in his face, “goodnight.” It spoke distortedly, before unhinging it’s jaw, revealing its sharp blood stained, rotten teeth as it lunged for Fern with a horrible screech.

Fern shot up, gasping awake in his tent, panting as he’d tried to calm down.

They shook their head as they sat there for a moment, getting up.

They’d gotten dressed, packed things up and lastly- written a letter which they’d placed beside Kilo and Miles’ tents.

They breathed out as they adjusted the huge backpack they’d had, before leaving into the abyss of the night, taking one final look back at the camp before leaving..

Kilo and Miles had awoken around the same time the next day, after the two had gotten dressed, Miles walked out his tent, stretching before glancing over and noticing Fern’s tent was gone.

“Kil?” Miles beckoned as Kilo had gotten out “yes?” His younger brother spoke, Kilo was a shorter drow elf, he had dark blue skin with freckles painted across it.

A wooden prosthetic leg was visible on his right side, and a scar that covered over his right eye with hair swooping over to accompany it. He'd always kept his hair in a ponytail and had always wore dark armor with a sort of light or angel symbol on the chest of it.

Kilo looked to be in his 20’s or 30’s if you went by human ages and appearances, however he was well into his late 200’s.

“Where’s Fern’s tent gone?” Miles asked, as Kilo immediately noticed.

“Um.. maybe they.. packed up early..? I- I dunno.. I know that’d be a bit strange.. since.. I remember we weren’t going to move for the next few days, but uh.. I dunno? Could be wrong? Maybe Fern uh-“

“Got in trouble..” Miles interrupted

“I’m sorry?” Kilo puzzled.

“If someone hurt Fern oh I’ll fucking kill them-“ Miles began to get aggressive. As he practically growled his words out.

“Now- wait. Hang on. We both know Fern can handle herself, I doubt she’s-“ he stopped “oh hey, lookit this.”

Miles stopped and perked up at whatever Kilo had found.

Kilo bent over, and grabbed a piece of folded paper that titled ��Kilo and Miles’

He stood up, and shrugged, opening it, Miles hovered over Kilo’s shoulder as he read it outloud. “ ‘dear friends- I’ve gone off to find out why my powers aren’t working how they should be, I suspect that something’s happened to Maryweather. Sorry I couldn’t do this in person, I know if I did you two would put up an argument with me as to come with- but I can’t let you do that, for I fear this may put your lives in danger and I don’t wish to lose you two.

I’ve run from everything in my life, and I’m choosing not to run from this but face it head on without help.

I’m sorry, I hope to see you again some day.

- your friend, Fern’ “

Kilo lowered the letter, before Miles yanked it from him “hey- wait!” Kilo pleaded as Miles crumbled it up and chucked it as hard as he could into the distance in anger he huffed.

“God that fucking IDIOT.” He shook in anger.

Kilo just stayed quiet as he let his brother be angry, sure Kilo wasn’t happy either but his was more in a sad way than anything,

Miles had felt the anger boil over him as he excused himself to go deal with his anger alone.

Kilo let him be alone during this, sitting down next to where Fern’s tent was and let out a sigh as he stroked the grass next to him.

“I’ll see you on another adventure Fern..”

He spoke sadly, at least this time he knew where Fern was going and why.. unlike the situation with their parents where they’d left without any trace of them.

Kilo had lied down within the grass and let himself drift into deep thought about everything.. he felt sad. Fern was one of his friends, if not one of his only friends.

He was going to miss him a lot.. and he knew Miles was going to, too.

After about an hour of Kilo laying down and being deep in thought, Miles made his way back to their camp panting- his knuckles bleeding and hands sore.

He’d been beating up a tree for the past hour to deal with his emotions, he didn’t wanna have Kilo be around and deal with his destructive emotions and tendencies.

Miles just looked more defeated now.

Kilo perked up at this as he’d sat up, immediately rushed over to him “ah.. Miles..” he spoke softly as he held out his arms as Miles immediately hugged him and just sobbed, leading Kilo to sobbing as well..

That was the last time they’d ever seen Fern.

:D

[skijarama]

Sometimes when playing D&D, you just belt out banger fucking lines. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a war to wage, and you all have a war to win." For context: Our campaign is taking place in a large archipelago with two primary political powers that have just spiraled into war against one another. This war is mostly a result of demonic corruption infiltrating the leadership of one of the nations and twisting it to evil ends. Typical D&D stuff. The PC party is part of a 'terrorist' organization (really more of a secretive rebel faction) that is trying to investigate and eliminate said demonic corruption. The above quote was said by the commander of the 'good' aligned faction's military. She is in charge of waging the war and managing the front lines, but she is fully aware of the fact that it is not within the power of her army to actually win. Her people's advantage over the corrupted nation begins and ends on the water. The party, on the other hand? Well, they don't have to worry about all that so much. They don't have to worry about the logistics of war or any of that. They just have to slip in, find the demons' heart, and cleave it beating from its nest. All in all, I am very proud of that line up there, and my players seemed to appreciate it, too. Just thought I'd share.

[paladinadventures]

Trying to get a deal on a room by lying.

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[staircasecleric]

Life tip: do not beat the shit out of the sister of an insane, ancient Unseelie archfey within said archfey's domain, even if she's possessed by a malevolent force trapped within her absolutely-not cursed spear and threatening to kill you

[nobigneil]

"a vampire and a bear walk into a bar..."

[5ftboy]

How is Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves different from other blockbuster action films?

[cinderoo]

[myszkaa]

A lone feathered woman

[artharakka]

Eala (and her raven Ruoja), @iijadraws 's character for my ttrpg campaign Llehia 🍂

[flawseer]

#23 - "D&D"

Smaugust 2024

"Unfortunately, on your fifth consecutive backflip, a scroll dislodges from your pack and lands on the floor, causing you to slip on it and take a spectacular fall. Your body, caught up in the momentum of your prior maneuver, involuntarily vaults forward as you spin out of control. Your rear end makes contact with the Queen's face, and your entire adventuring party is arrested for your insolence."

[finnissilly]

Hello I wrote again.

This time it’s the first time Miles and Kilo met, enjoy :)

TW: suicide implications

A young elf trudged along the decaying land. His dark boot and wooden prosthetic both muddy and worn as they were in need of repairs, his dark armor which usually shined with a bright reflection of light barely shined. Instead stained red with blood.

His one good eye, drained of energy and color, he grew tired of the endless walk and peril he faced.

How many days has it been? He didn’t know, he hadn’t kept track.

His hair remained in a messy ponytail as a portion had kept falling to the right side of his face. He’d grown not to care as it didn’t effect his vision at all within that eye- a wound lied over his right eye, a monstrous scratch that now impaired his vision. The wound didn’t even look to be treated, still remained red, stained with crusty blood and bruised around the area, it looked infectious and it didn’t look like a recent wound, but no attendance or healing was done to help reverse the damage.

Kilo took it as a punishment as healing or helping himself felt like a selfish decision.

As he gazed upwards at the cloudy and gray sky, he sighed- the atmosphere full of death and despair as he’d begun to tune out the distant screams of the monstrosities that lie here.

Everytime he thought he was able to make it out he was tricked, he hadn’t interacted with another person in so long- his sunny and bright personality wore faded like an eclipse within his dread.

Days felt like months, and months felt like years… why was he still going…? Did he still secretly have hope? The darkness felt like it was engulfing him whole, maybe he deserved this… maybe this was his punishment for his mistakes and wrongdoings.

As the realm felt just as unforgiving as he was to himself.

As he walked, trying to find something- anything in this endless world of darkness, his tired and worn nature had failed to see what was right infront of him- a tripwire.

A trap.

As he’d activated it, hearing a click as his eyes widened with shock, his heart racing in his chest as he felt himself be swooped up within an instant by a net.

He let out a small yelp in fear, as he processed the situation at hand- glancing around as he calmed his senses, sighing in defeat.

“Great. Of all things to happen next-“ he grumbled to himself as he thought if he should get himself free with his sword.

But. He hesitated, maybe death was what he’d deserved next… maybe that’d finally let his worries and trauma go aside.

His thoughts were soon interrupted as he’d heard the distant sounds of footsteps approaching… something was different.

These footsteps actually sounded, human…? Instead of the typical monstrous footsteps he’d grown used to. He’d perked up as he tried to focus his senses on whoever was there.

As the figure approached, he could just vaguely make them out,

Whoever they were- they’d worn a dark hooded cloak, it draped over their face.

Kilo felt his panic seep in once more, had death finally come for him…?

As the figure took off the hood, revealing part of their face- it was a man. An elven man.

He took off a facial mask he’d worn, revealing his face, he looked older than Kilo, his eyes red and tired, his hair was a dark brown color- opposed to Kilo’s starlight hair, his skin an ash gray, almost blue… as he focused on the person who’d gotten stuck within his trap.

He didn’t look at Kilo with malicious intent, but with… confusion. “Wow, you’re not from here are you?” He called out, his voice vaguely slurring, Kilo not knowing how to respond as the man looked at him- studying his figure.

He’d shuffled about as he reached for his longbow, aiming it at the net as Kilo’s eyes widened, “no- please I-!” He closed his eyes tight, using his arms to block in fear of the impact as he felt the net fall instead.

He opened his good eye hesitantly. As he looked around before seeing the arrow within the rope that held the net, and not being aimed at him.

“Right, city’s that way.” The man pointed nonchalantly as he stood slightly swaying “not everyone is as nice as me though, so. Keep your guard up.” He warned with almost no emotion.

Kilo blinked for a moment as he stood up, collecting himself.

Was he just sparred…? And… by another person…? He watched as the man started to wander off, stumbling in his steps.

Kilo tried to collect himself. “Hey- wait a minute!” he’d called out as he’d tried to run to the man- who was swigging a bottle of alcohol in his offhand.

Kilo stopped beside him, gazing upon him “You… who are you…? What- what are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone could survive here! Well, except the… monsters I- uh. Suppose.” Kilo spoke nervously then let out a small chuckle in attempt to ease the mood.

The other elf swayed him off “mm-“ he finished a swig of his drink.

“You won’t know me long enough for you to care or for it to matter-“ he slurred as his body seemed to tilt, “Well- my name is Kilo! I’m a- paladin of the moon goddess Selune,” he spoke as he knelt down on one knee, holding a fist to his chest.

“Apologies for my rudeness in not introducing myself sooner.” He spoke with a hint of nerve as he’d stood up.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he tried to lighten the mood, smiling gently as he held out his hand for the other elf to shake.

The darker haired man just stared down at the shorter one, trying to think of a response in his drunken state

“Okay, Kilo. Well. I’m not looking to really uh…” he paused. “Make friends…? So.” He tried to brush him off, Kilo frowned slightly as he’d taken his hand away, trying to figure out how to speak to this guy.

He paused as his eyes lit up-

“Well- friends or. At least- allies can help you get what you need.” Kilo spoke with a small smile, in attempt to persuade him. “So how bout it? You can help me figure a way out of here and I’ll-“ he paused, noticing the taller figure who had a large alcoholic beverage in his hand.

“Get you some of the best alcohol my people have to offer.” He spoke as he tried to strike a deal.

The man raised an eyebrow “You wanna get out of here? Pff- good luck.” He chuckled. “I’ve been trying that since I was a kid.” He laughed, taking another drink.

“That doesn’t mean it’s impossi-“ Kilo tried to interject as the taller figure looked at him with mallace “listen you little asshole-“ he hissed as Kilo shrunk, the other elf now towering over him, his red eyes piercing into Kilo’s.

“There is NO way out of here. This is where you will ROT and DIE. Got it? Especially for someone of your kind.” He growled as he semi- pushed the shorter drow elf back, beginning to laugh as his body swayed.

Kilo stood there for a moment as he’d been taken aback as he thought “What’s that supposed to entail?” Kilo asked, crossing his arms.

“Oh you don’t know?” He chuckled. “Oh you’re in for quite a show aren’t you paladin.” He spoke as he bagan to laugh- stumbling as he almost fell over.

Kilo now started to get irritated with these responses as the man slowly began to explain “your insides will rot until your body can’t take it anymore, blood-! pissing down your eyes until your body starts to crack and break, inhumanly- turning you inside out as your guts and organs fall-!” He went on as his peech gradually began to slur more.

Kilo looked at him for a moment, unsure if he was telling the truth as he watched him stumble, sure he was clearly drunk but was he overexaggerating?

As the drunk man went on and on about death and despair and the inherit doom. Kilo, did initially listen but as he went on- his claims felt more outlandish, and he began to grow irritated as he’d crossed his arms. Unsure how much this man had to drink, and unsure how strongwhatever he’d drank was, he decided to humor him for now.

As this went on, the words the man spoke slowly made less and less sense as they were now just incoherent noises and sounds, vague attempts at words as it was utter nonsense. Kilo was snapped out of his daze, as he spaced out, snapping back to the sight and sound of the taller man falling against the ground face first. Kilo’s eyes widened as he’d went to check to see if he was okay.

“Uh… sir…?” He asked wearily as he shook his unresponsive body gently, checking his pulse, as he held two fingers against his neck before leaning down to study his breathing.

He sighed in relief as he was just unconscious. He sat for a moment as he thought of what to do “His camps ought to be around here somewhere…” he spoke aloud, standing up to look for it.

It didn’t take incredibly long as a small campsite was spotted in a small clearing of the dark and twisted forest. It wasn’t anything grand- a half put up tent with a messily lied nedroll and blanket from within,a burnt down campfire with charred wood, and several empty alcohol bottles scattered across the ground. This was definitely it.

The drow soon made his way back to the other elven man, lifting him up as he lugged his arm around his shoulder and another around his back to support him as he’d walked back to what he assumed to be his camp.

He sat him down within his tent “hm…” he thought as he looked around his camp, placing the blanket over the unconscious man.

Glancing around his camp once more- he decided to make himself useful, picking up all the empty alcohol bottles and organizing them- as he tried to figure iut what exactly it was, taking a sniff as he was overwhelmed with the strong smell of liquor, recoiling as he cringed at the scent.Kilo wasn’t much of a drinker, but he could tell whatever this was extremely strong.“Christ almighty…” upon further inspection, it looked like these were all from the same day.. or at least close, concern grew across his face as he glanced at the unconscious man briefly, shaking his head.

He’d spent the next few hours or so just tidying up the campsite, trying to do things that made him feel useful and helpful. He didn’t want to invade too much though into this mysterious man’s life so he tried not to be too nosy.

As he was doing so, he felt something crack beneath his boot. Looking down as he feared he broke something valuable or meaningful, moving his foot away from the scene as he’d met his gaze with… a vile.

But not of alcohol.

The liquid poured into the ground, it was pitch black and a small cloud of smoke had emerged.

He raised an eyebrow as he bent down to investigate, picking up the shards of glass he’d just broken.

No label or anything, odd.

As he bent to smell it, he felt himself gag at the wretched scent- it smelt of utter decay.

He physically recoiled as he’d taken a whiff of it. Covering his nose and mouth quickly and trying not to vomit at the scent.

“Good gods-“ he coughed out as he stood up, fanning the area around his nose to dismiss the scent.

“What the nine hells is this??” He exclaimed quietly to himself as he debated tasting it to find out, but that didn’t feel like the greatest or smartest idea Kilo’s ever thought up, instead just deciding to collect the Brocken glass remains- maybe he could bring it up later.

As more hours went by, Kilo found ways to keep himself busy, practicing his fighting, writing in a journal to document his experience, and generally trying to make himself useful. He hoped the mysterious man would be able to see how useful he was, maybe that’d make him consider to take him up on his initial offer.

The dark haired man finally began to stir, groaning as he’d taken a look around his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was, recognizing quickly that he was back at his campsite, he sat up before soon spotting Kilo. “You-“ he groaned in pain of a headache, result of a hangover. “What the fuck are you doing here-?!” He yelled out, moving his hand to sit up as his hand was met with a waterskin. “Wha-“ he raised an eyebrow in confusion, moving his hand away as he looked down at the item.

“For your hangover- water helps.” Kilo spoke gently. “I-“ the man looked around, clearly confused and puzzled. “Wh…” then glancing at his now cleaner camp.

“You fell unconscious after spouting utter nonsense about being turned inside out. You fell right on your noggin’” Kilo spoke with a small chuckle as soon walked over to sit infront of the other man.

“I’m…. So confused..” he spoke admittedly, Kilo chuckled “well yea, that’s what happens when ya get blackout drunk and-“ he was cut off “No I mean- why? Why are you here? Why did you bring me here and- tidy my camp?” He spoke with almost suspicion in his voice.

The younger one smiled gently “well,” he started. “I always figured that with a life full of such troubles and worries, it doesn’t hurt to show a little kindness.” He spoke as he reached over to pick up the waterskin and hand it to the taller figure.

“But I don’t-“ he paused. “I don’t understand….” He hesitated to take the water.

Kilo stared at him for a moment “You don’t have to understand to be shown kindness.” He paused. “Now, go on take it.” He gestured to the drink, The other still seeming hesitant “Easy- It’s not like I poisoned your drink or anything.” He laughed gently as the taller one reached over to take it, swigging it down.

Kilo smiled gently, “A redo of an introduction is in order I recon.” He spoke, trying to hold out his hand again. “Kilo Moonshine, Paladin of Selune, at your service my good man.”

The taller figure chuckled, “Weird- my name is Miles Moonshine.” He laughed as he shook Kilo’s hand.

“Your name wouldn’t happen to be Kilometers would it-?” Miles spoke with a laugh, clearly joking. As Kilo perked up “Funny you mention that- because, it actually is!” Miles nearly took a spittake. “I- what??” He spoke, his eyes widening.

“You’re joking- no you can’t possibly be serious.” Miles spoke in denial as the two went silent.

“Uh… well this is, an odd predicament.” Kilo chuckled nervously as he glanced at miles, his face changing as he noticed something. “Oh hang on..” he starred.

“You’ve got the same eyes-! Or.. I guess eye. As me! Same color.” Kilo exclaimed. Miles rolled his eyes as he shrugged “red is a common color..” he spoke but that wasn’t really. True.

“Hm. Wait-“ Kilo spoke before poking Miles in the nose “aye- you’ve got the same n-“ Miles slapped Kilo’s hand away. “Try that again and you’re losing that hand.” Kilo got the message and backed off “right, right, sorry-“ he spoke. “But, you’ve got the same nose and eyes as me.” Miles rolled his eyes “that doesn’t mean much.” Kilo looked at him point blank “our names are ‘Kilometers’ and ‘Miles’, we share the same last name, same nose, and same eyes.” He started numbering off as Miles seemed to connect the dots much like Kilo did.

He looked at Kilo in like an upset confusion.

“Listen. I’m just saying… this might all be connected. Alright?” Kilo spoke, trying to reason.

“Well you’re too young to be my dad, if that’s your theory.” Miles joked as Kilo chuckled at that “Oh gods no- I’ve never had a child.” He laughed lightly.

After a while of chatting they found the most viable option being that they were brothers, both finding that odd in their own ways, but it also made a lot of sense and tracked.

And after much convincing and conveying on Kilo’s part, he’d finally got Miles to try to help him find a way out- but Miles really doubted any chance of finding a way out, however there was apart of him that longed to escape and find a way out, a small amount of hope that shined through him.

The two traveled for quite some time together within the unforgivable realm of the Shadowfell. As Miles slowly began to trust the paladin over time and grown fond of his newfound brother. He was nice and that was rare here, and that was a good change of pace.

The two learned to rely and trust each-other as they journeyed together, sharing stories and laughs amongst themselves from their own individual lives. Before they knew it, their discoveries along their journey had led them to a way out.

A mysterious ruin, thick with mist stood in a clearing of the twisted forest. In the center- a statue stood, broken and overgrown from the time that passed of being unattended to. It appeared to be a statue of a woman, but the head was broken off and scattered across the ground.

The two stepped to investigate the ruins, as the fog changed to a dark black color- absorbing them and warping them whole, completely engulfing their visions as they felt terror consume them, but when things came back into light they stood in a forest, but not the same one no- but a normal forest. They did it.

They were on the matieral plane.

Kilo was overjoyed as he was finally out, cheering “We did it! I-” He turned over to see Miles, who stayed staring up at the sky, the wind gently blew as the birds chirped within the distance, sounds of gentle streams running by as he began to feel himself cry.. Kilo went quiet as he let him have his moment, going over and placing a gentle hand on his back.

Miles was out, he was finally free… and he had a brother to thank for that…

A few writers notes I don’t feel are clear in this, so firstly: I know some of you are gonna ask why Kilo didn’t heal when he’s a paladin. Kilo sees helping himself as selfish a lot of the time, so whenever he gets hurt and he gets injured he feels it’s deserved. As for whatever the vile was- if that was not clear, that was poison and the reason why Miles was drinking so much was to get intoxicated and then kill himself as he didn’t see much point in continuing his life.

Alrighty that is all, thank you for reading :)

[skijarama]

Sometimes there are beautiful little moments of spontaneous synchronization. A perfect blend of last-second planning combined with joyful impulsiveness and reckless abandon. A single instant when silly ideas and the ability to perfectly execute them blend together in a potent cocktail of unplanned but unforgettable delight.

The loxodon magically soars through the air above a startled crowd, trumpeting and blowing bubbles, while his friends below play a jaunty little festival jig on dulcimer and bongo.

A fun little moment from a D&D Campaign I play in I decided to draw. I'm the kobold.

[paladinadventures]

Sigfried is good at intimidation. It was a critical roll.

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[staircasecleric]

Be careful how many characters your players burn through in a campaign. Eventually you get to the weird shit. Like half-elf paladin/warlock/fighter old ladies who either use a whip and shield or a rifle. a goddamn rifle. This woman is nearly a century old and shot a god.