#Tales of the yawning portal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inglorionamy-ammy · 3 months

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Of Home and Haven (Ch 1/6)

[Yes I love them and I am drawing them a cover lol]

Summary: A tender tale between an outlander barbarian and a scholarly wizard, navigating life, love, and belonging (aka. What "being together" means for them) in Waterdeep and beyond.

Pairing: Half-orc Barbarian F!Tav X Gale SFW

Word count: 3.2k

Notes: Welcome to my first venture into fan fiction!

A gigantic shoutout to @senualothbrok for guiding my newbie writing every step, for being my beta and English coach, and for being so enthusiastic about Gale AND Ta'V in general. Without you, I wouldn't have the courage to post the story.

For whoever ventured here, please enjoy :)

AO3 Link: Here

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It still feels wrong to venture outside without the Nyrulna, your faithful trident.

Logically, you understand it’s a horrible weapon choice for the crowded streets of Waterdeep, its thunder damage a guarantee of passerby casualty. You are not expecting battles anyway — Compared to your last two months of tadpoled adventures and the previous ten years of your mercenary life, this is a significant change of pace. The violence rate here is obscenely low.

Ha. Astarion would have giggled at that, followed by a disapproving-but-amused headshake from your gentlemanly wizard. Gale Dekarios, your human, your man. Even counting your pillow, he is still the softest, finest thing you have ever laid hands on in your nomadic life. What a strange twist of fate, that a scheme of the Dead Three has led you to this treasure you'd never encounter otherwise. Perhaps a “thank you” is in order.

A lady always says thank you. Ma’s voice rings in your ears, a distant memory. You snort, not to her but to yourself. She had never lost faith in your ability to be civilized, even when you believed otherwise.

Now, it is Gale who has given you the courage to try out polite society again. The last time you set foot in a city, not including the cultist-infiltrated war-torn Baldur's Gate, was for an escort mission at Elturel. You and a few others were hired to travel with a half-elf noblewoman, her frail yet elegant frame reminiscent of the fawn you hunted a day before. In daylight, you rode next to her, vigilant for any potential danger. At night, you postponed your rest to hunt so that her private chef could prepare her precious meal, while you feasted on cheap rum and dry meat. You had no protest over such an arrangement, being right at home living simply in the wild. It was only when she deliberately changed her wagon into what you could only describe as a "show-off cart" to enter the city, that you felt a pang of distaste. Despite her so-called concern for safety, she wanted a crowd anyway, and a crowd was what she got. Unsurprisingly, when the crew marched past the city gate, the people of Elturel gathered to stare at her in awe and at you in fear. As you walked alongside the heavily decorated four-wheeled cart at a painfully slow pace, you silently thought, "That could be me sitting in there. I am half-human too, you know?"

But that’s where you stop. Focus. You have two missions today, the first being to bring a surprise lunch to your fiancé at Blackstaff Academy. You have roasted a pig leg as best as you could with his magical hob, picked out the freshest berries of the season, and scouted a rich full-red you know Gale will enjoy.

Wait. Is drinking allowed at school? You wouldn’t know, as your education came from your parents and the road. In any case, he can store it in his big, nice teacher’s room he gleefully described in detail when he first got his position a week ago. You had been celebrating at the Yawning Portal that night, and your drunken wizard had lovingly leaned on your arm, so overjoyed that, despite being in public, he cheekily rubbed his beard against you like a spoilt kitten. You just couldn’t resist giving his soft hair a good pat.

“T-This is surreal,” he sighed, with a lazy gaze under half-lidded eyes. “Please, my love, join me someday. I have so many stories to share —it is my second home after all!”.

You liked the place already. If that is where he belongs, then you must go there as well.

In the end, you decide to give up the Nyrulna and pick a simple axe, just for safety measures. It should be a perfect choice: small enough to hide under your cloak and cheap enough not to make a fuss, even if it got confiscated by an academy guard. Tracing its metal notches reminds you of Karlach, a fellow barbarian soldier. You miss that woman.

You check yourself in the mirror one last time, adjust your dreadlocks, and take a deep breath. Time to face polite society.

---

"STOP."

You hold up your hands as two steel sentinels halt you at the gate of the renowned Blackstaff Academy. It is a gesture you have practiced many times, wary and expectant. Behind them, the arcane tower looms over you. The voice of the guards sounds too hollow and unified, a single echo shared between the duo. Remotely controlled guards then, you think, impressed.

“STATE YOUR PURPOSE.”

“I am here to see Gale Dekarios, Professor of the Illusion School.” You practiced this also, more times than you’d ever admit.

“School of Illusion,” the voice corrects you. Now it sounds like a sentient being, not like that weird projection of Lorroakan’s at Sorcerous Sundries. The masculine voice has a pinched, haughty tone and an air of tired condescension. You are immediately reminded of wizards and their pride in education; how a long time ago, when you had miraculously succeeded in channeling the Weave for the first time and shared your joy with Gale — “I didn’t know channeling the Weave was so easy” — he wasted not a second to remind you that, in fact, it is not. Somehow, that awkward moment has now turned into a soothing memory.

“Hm-Right.” You cough to hide a snort. “I am his wife. I would like to bring him lunch. May I pass the gate?” As an afterthought, you add, “Please?” Your Ma would be proud.

“LIAR. Piss off before I chase you out.”

Of all the responses you expected, this is not one of them. You are growling before you know it. “I suggest you KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT.” The words rush harshly out of your fanged mouth.

…uh.

In an instance the two sentinels spring into a battle stance. Worse still, you can feel onlookers start to gather, and your skin itches under their gazes. You force an exhale.

“…What makes you think I am lying?” You try as calmly as you can manage, holding onto the mental image of your smiling wizard, just beyond reach. Volo’s book better gets published sooner so that everyone will know who you are. Better yet, you will make sure he highlights the word ‘wife’.

“Professor Dekarios is not married.” The sentinels, with the smuggest voice you have ever heard in your life, drop their final blow.

And that is when you remember. Yes, you are still technically his fiancée, even though the man himself has often forgotten that, already showering you with affection far deeper than a ring could ever capture.

Perhaps someone more eloquent would continue to argue, ask Gale to come out, and demand proper treatment for a lady. But right now you only feel overwhelmingly exposed, with too many prying eyes and wiggling tongues for you to maintain your civil façade any longer. So you retreat, trying to ignore the unsubtle snickers. The sentinels were not as clever as they thought they were anyway. What kind of guards reveal personal details to a potential enemy like that? Amateur.

---

What would Gale do to remedy the day? He would strategize.

You decide to call upon Tara to deliver the meal, and if the sentinels deny her entry they will know true horror. Her outrage upon hearing your encounter was enough to cheer you up. After all, your goal is to get your love fed, and the means—who is doing the delivery — are less important than the ends.

With that dealt with, you now need to focus on your second mission—to pass a job interview. You have decided that settling down in polite society means less fighting, but there is no way you’d just stay at home and rely on Gale’s income, even though he wouldn’t mind. The man is more than willing to provide for you, but you wouldn’t want to lounge around in the tower, hanging off his coattails. Truth be told, this is for your own good too—you truly wish to be a part of Waterdeep by playing an active role in it, not just as a tag-along of Gale’s.

Of the ten positions you applied for in the past month, you only got one reply: a counter clerk at the Aurora's Realms Shops next to the Market. Gale had frowned when he heard about the demanding dusk-till-dawn working hours, but you assured him you’d only take shifts six days out of a tenday. He had tried to argue further, but upon seeing your determination, swallowed his questions. You both know that if you had applied to be a city guard, a dock laborer, or even a weaponry store assistant, you’d get better offers. But you have decided that you want a change. More sitting, less fighting. To be polite. Chit-chat with people. To smile without malice.

So, on leaving Blackstaff, you arrive at the shopfront five minutes before your interview. You scan the two queues before you: one inside the shop and one outside. A queue for a counter clerk job at this paid rate? You lament, Waterdeep and its gods forsaken job market.

You push open the glass door, and upon seeing you enter, a human woman with a clipboard swiftly calls, “Oh. The interview for security guards is outside.”

“I am here for the counter clerk one.” Several candidates from the queue indoor turn to you curiously. To be fair, all of them are tinier than you; you’d have no problem reaching the top shelf, or lifting one, if you ever needed to.

“Ah. Right.” The lady is polite enough to look embarrassed. “And your name?” She shows you her clipboard as you tower over her, and as you scan through the long list she adds helpfully, “Or you can just tell—” “I know how to read.” You stop her mid-sentence, your harsh tone making her wince, and you wince too. Gods, you need to get better at this. Apologetically, you soften your voice, “This is me,” pointing to your name on the list.

“Ta’V Riversong?” She is surprised. Does she recognize the Hero of Baldur’s Gate? She does not start praising your great deeds, so you assume no, you aren’t that lucky. It must be the other reason then.

“Yes,” you explain. “Riversong is my Ma—mother’s surname, she’s a human.”

This is one thing you share with Gale: taking your mother’s family name. Your father, however, did not abandon the family like Gale’s father did. Instead, your father understood—theirs was a runaway marriage, and your mother had sacrificed a lot to settle down with a barbarian deep in the woods, away from civil society. Her name was her last connection to her noble past, and your father could never deny her that. Idly, you wonder if this woman has heard of your mother’s family. Growing up, you never cared enough to learn about this illusion of a heritage.

“I see,” she says meekly. “Sorry…It’s just that from your application, I didn’t expect you to be a half-orc.”

---

And that is why you end up shit-faced in a random tavern. You don’t even bother to look at the tavern sign as you stumble in, determined to leave behind the interview, the Academy, and polite society as soon as possible. You order whisky first, then firewine, because you can’t afford to waste money, given that you definitely won’t get the job. You understand. They want someone less intimidating. Of fucking course.

You are almost delighted when you feel hostility flushing towards you.

The hair at the back of your neck stands. At the corner of your eye you spot the flash of a cunning dagger, which you recognize as a Murderous Cut. Ah, local Bhaal cultists then. You may have had a bad day, but at least you can make theirs worse. You down your drink in one go, and without further ado, send the mug right into a cloaked figure’s face.

In an instant the whole tavern breaks into chaos. As the others reveal their weapons, you realize something: You have missed this. The axe you wield breaks through wind and skulls. Frenzied roars explode from the depth of your lungs, your charge unstoppable and inevitable. This is the part of yourself you used to be most proud of, the warrior that you were trained to be, born from ashes and forged in flames.

FIGHT ME! You father shouted, signaling the start of the match.

Two figures charge at you. You ground your stance before taking a full-body swing, slashing open both poor souls at once. With a kick you send one of them towards the side, knocking over a clamour of plates and glasses.

SIDE! He took advantage of your open stance.

A blade cut scratches your cheek, but you promptly ignore its stink of poison. You grab the man and throw him right at a ranger in the corner, knocking both of them out. Perhaps you are enjoying this too much, but when you look at the screaming Waterdhavians, your grin is wide and true. You will not be tamed.

CHARGE!

As you knock down your last enemy you feel free, freedom that you haven’t tasted for months since you arrived in this godsdamned city. You rise, wobbling, and you see your father grinning proudly. On the day you had beaten him down finally, he had pronounced you a worthy adult. You were sixteen, ready to hit the road. You laugh maniacally, in joy and sorrow and everything else you can’t name. You know Gale could name them. Yes. Gale. The smartest, sweetest person you’ve ever known.

And then you collapse.

---

You were inside his purple tent. Late at night, he illuminated it with floating orbs, reclining between your legs as he read his tomes. He was so focused, and you couldn’t help but distract him with a kiss on top of his head as you gently traced circles on his stomach.

He chuckled, low and warm, then leaned back against you.

“This is one mystery I’ll never solve,” he began, closing his tome. “Why oh why would such a wonderful, ferocious, tenacious warrior ever set her sights on someone as brittle as me?”

“I could ask the same in reverse, but I ran out of adjectives,” you muttered sleepily and he laughed, setting his hands on top of yours as his thumb stroked your calloused skin.

You knew he was unsatisfied, so you tried your best, despite the pulling weight on your eyelids, to set his ever-churning mind to rest.

“You smell good,” you managed, and he laughed even louder.

But you needed him to understand. You pushed out one last word.

“Home.”

He went quiet as you fell asleep.

---

You hear…

“Ta—”

Something. Familiar. Wings.

“Ta’V—”

It’s the smell that gets you.

“TA’V!”

“WHAT? I’m awake, I’m awake. Don’t fret!” You jerk up, snapping out of your coma. It is Gale who holds your face urgently, his brows tightly knitted, knees rough on the hard ground. Next to him, Tara flutters her wings, startled by your sudden movement.

You are elated to see them, and you want to tell them so. But something in his glistening eyes makes you pause.

“Don’t fret?” His voice is an octave higher than usual. “You were lying on the ground alone, bleeding, unconscious, surrounded by godsdamned cultists, AND YOU TELL ME TO NOT FRET?”

Dead cultists, you want to counter, but your overflowing relief finally spills over.

“I love you,” you say instead, and Tara twists her tail in amusement.

Gale stares at you for a long time. Finally, with a deep breath, he relents.

“And I you. Let’s go home, shall we?”

---

While you have never been well-versed in sentimental things, you do understand that this situation calls for a hug. So you gather him into a squeezing embrace as soon as the two of you stumble out of the portal. Tara, in the meantime, settles herself on the kitchen counter, waiting for the drama to unfold.

To cheer him up, you decide to start with something happy. “So…did you enjoy the meal Tara brought you?”

You feel him tense, so you hug him harder. A moment later, he nods against your chest.

“It was wonderful,” he mutters. “I savored every bite, sang the chef’s praises to anyone who’d listen.” He pauses. “I learnt from Tara what happened at the gate.”

“Oh, well. Perhaps I shouldn’t have dropped by without a head’s up.”

He pushes himself away from your chest and stares sternly into your eyes. “That is not the point. I swear, the first thing I’ll do next time I return to the Academy is to teach that young man Endorick a very serious lesson on manners. That was pure disrespect, not only to you but to everything the Blackstaff stands for. In fact, the only reason I was delayed was because of the next bit of shocking news Tara relayed to me.” His gaze turns sorrowful. “My love, would you please tell me what happened?”

You grunt. Talking has never been your strong suit, but it is Gale’s preferred mode of communication, so you push through it. You tell him about the failed interview, the resulting drinking, and the fight. You try to describe your feelings along the way, knowing that it will comfort him to know more about you. At the end of your narrative, he falls silent.

Then he announces abruptly, “Let’s pack.”

“What? Why?”

Gently, he presses his hand against your cheek. His voice is firm and tender when he says, “It was never my intention to cause you such pain, or to mold you into something different than what you are now.” He grimaces. “In fact, I can scarcely believe I truly deserve to have someone as wonderful as you by my side as a friend and a wife. So we can go, far away from here, travel again, meet your parents perhaps! Anywhere that makes you happy, I will follow.”

“But what of your teaching?” You counter, and you are almost appalled when he shrugs. “I have barely started. I’m sure the esteemed, resourceful Blackstaff Academy can manage without—"

“NO!” You stumble, hands gesturing frantically. “This is your dream! Your second home, you said!”

“And you are my first,” he declares without hesitation. “I know my choice.”

Your head hangs. You feel dejected. He doesn’t get it.

There are too many thoughts swirling in your head, words starting to slump and melt and break. You can’t explain yourself, and you can’t keep up with this conversation anymore. Unlike Gale, you must see and touch to manipulate. As you fall silent, you can sense Gale’s increasing concern.

Finally, you proclaim, “I will show you tomorrow.”

---

This is why, when the morning comes, your fiancé will find himself awake before you — a rare occurrence — and reading a great puzzle in the form of a simple note, carefully pried from your fist as you doze. It reads, in handwriting he finds as endearingly boorish as its owner:

“I want to work at Blackstaff Academy too.”

Chapter 2

---

Thank YOU for reading this story. Tell me what you think! It would make my day :)

Other things that I do

#bg3 #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #galemancer #fansart #myart #gale posting #gale fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #barbarian tav #half orc tav

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mommyhelgayanderelover · 3 months

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You're just afraid of horror movies

Pairing: Optimus Prime x human reader

You snorted, and then laughed softly.

"Do you really think I'm going to be scared?"

"Of course," the miko smiled wryly, "you'll be scared."

"I was on another planet in another dimension. I'm in the middle of an alien war. And you really think I'm going to be scared of… Horror movie sessions?"

"Uh-huh."

"Turn it on."

***

That was probably a mistake. That's what you thought after six hours of watching all sorts of horror movies, good and not so good. The phone showed it was about one o'clock in the morning, the main bay of the base was empty (Ratchet had said he wasn't going to work for the disgusting Earth cinema and gone to his bay), and the only people left on the couch were Miko and you. Rafe immediately refused, and Jack decided on the second movie that he'd rather sleep it off before the new shift in a cafe than waste time watching horror movies.

As the next movie came to an end, Miko yawned contentedly, stretching.

"Okay, your taken. You're not afraid of scary movies."

"Of course," you nodded slowly, listening to the rapid beating of your heart, "what's there to be afraid of? They're fairy tales."

"Right," the miko nodded, and then headed towards the Portal, "fairy tales are fairy tales, but I'm going home. See you later!"

The vortex flashed, Miko waved goodbye once more and was gone.

You cursed noisily.

The walls of the largest compartment on the base suddenly began to press down on her. No, you weren't afraid of monsters or ghosts… It was just that after six hours of scary music, carnage, and the screams of dying people, you wanted to cower in a corner and not come out of it until morning. But then, of course, you weren't afraid.

I guess.

Maybe.

Just a little!

"Calm down," you always, in moments of irrational fear, said out loud, "calm down. Monsters and demons don't exist. There are lights on all around, there's a bunch of multi-ton military vehicles at the base. All is well."

"Meow."

You jerked up off the couch with a loud yelp. From underneath that very couch, two red eyes were staring at you.

"Meow?..."

"Fuck you, Cat!" you clutched at your heart. The tension spilled out with a nervous laugh, "shit, okay."

"Meow!"

You were about to go into the compartment to see Optimus, but as soon as your gaze fell on the dark tunnel, you immediately reached for your phone. Oh no, you're definitely not going into the dark.

"Hello, Optimus? Come into the main compartment," you frantically looked around, afraid to bump your gaze into something that just wasn't supposed to be there. A moment later, Prime was already close to the human platform, noting with concern your high stress level.

"Is something wrong, my Spark?"

"Oh no," you nervously shrugged, "everything is fine. I called you to carry me to our compartment."

"You know I never lock it..."

"So?" you interrupted the mech, folding your arms across your chest. "Are you incapable of carrying me yourself?"

There was nothing to wing it at Prime.

"If you wish it, my Spark."

"I wish it," you stretched your arms forward, hinting for Prime to pick you up quickly. Your back felt like it was baking from someone else's baleful stare, but you didn't risk turning around.

The mech released the plugs that immediately wrapped around your body. Greedy as ever, almost intimate.

Optimus Prime headed for his compartment, somehow, parallel to his all-encompassing love for you, sensing someone else's presence.

"No!" you clawed into the shoulder segments of the mech as it sought to place you on a platform. A large, lonely platform that stood in the darkest corner of the compartment. The platform where you were supposed to be alone while Prime would be working behind the monitors at the other end of the quarta. "I want to sit with you today... Yes, sit and watch you work."

Optimus frowns, but finds no reason to object here either.

"You usually said you weren't interested... I'm still doing the same thing. Deciphering Iacon's coordinates," there was no logic to your actions.

"Now I'm getting curious. Do you have something to hide? Are you watching Cybertronian porn so you don't want me here?" The inappropriate humor chased the fear away.

"Nonsense. I don't watch, as you put it, Cybertronian porn. I'm far more attracted to contact with you."

"I'm sure you do," you settled yourself more comfortably, kneading your stiff back, "get to work, Optimus. I'll find something to keep me busy around here."

***

An hour later, you had a headache and your eyes were slipping shut.

You. Wanted to. To sleep.

But to sleep alone... You cast another glance into the dark corner and shuddered. There was a flicker of scarlet dots. Or was it your judgment failing you?

"My Spark, my sensors are registering that your body is demanding offline... You must not force yourself to stay awake."

"I realize that," you suppressed a yawn, "but I don't want to go to bed alone, and you're working, so... I'll wait for you."

"There's still seven more joors of work to do here," Optimus turns off the monitors and feels your trembling intensify, "what's wrong? You're scared."

"I'm not afraid!" when the only source of light in the compartment was the mech's eyepieces, you jumped up from his shoulder and clung to his helmet. "I mean… Ah, hell, okay! Me and Miko have been watching horror movies, and I'm… I'm scared! Okay? I'm scared to be alone in the dark now. Here. Those damn thrillers were killing me, but I couldn't lose the bet."

There was silence for a while. Prime headed towards the platform, taking you gently in his palm.

"Your fear is irrational, my Spark. I think you realize that yourself," the mech lowered himself onto the platform, giving a short command to the segments of the chasplay armor to expose Spark, "but you can sleep here, close to Spark's chamber. You'll have light, and you'll be protected."

You barely finished listening to the mech: as soon as he assumed a horizontal position, you immediately climbed into the chevplight, moving closer to the source of light. And I don't care if it was someone else's soul. Didn't care about anything but the realization that the fear was slowly drifting away. Really, you're a big girl now, and you were so scared because of stupid movies.

"Are you feeling better?" prime's voice was full of concern. You mumbled something unintelligible as you made yourself comfortable. Once again the segments shifted, closing off Spark and you from the outside world.

"Yes. Thank you," you murmured sleepily, feeling unprecedented warmth and comfort. The fear receded completely. "You're right, completely irrational fear..."

Stupid. How silly to be afraid of fake monsters from movies when you're literally sleeping in the actual monster. You so wish that fur beneath you and around you was once again just a hero of myths, not a real creature that causes pain.

... and only on the verge of dreaming did it occur to you that you hadn't taken the cat from the house to the base that afternoon.

#optimus prime #reader insert #transformers #optimus #optimus x human #optimus x reader #optimus x you #transformers prime

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bathroomcube · 4 months

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watching a dungeons and dragons video talking about "tales of the yawning portal" and when i saw the cover. well. literally just look it up and you will know how i reacted

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chronotsr · 5 months

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No. 1 - G1, The Steading of the Hill Giant Chief (July 1978)

Author(s): Gary Gygax Artist(s): Erol Otus, Dave C. Sutherland III (cover), David A. Trampier Level range: Average of 9, preferably 5+ players Theme: Standard Swords and Sorcery Major re-releases: G1-3 Against the Giants, GDQ1-7 Queen of the Spiders, Against the Giants: The Liberation of Geoff, Dungeon #197, Tales from the Yawning Portal

I'm not sure if G1-G3 are the most remastered adventures of all time, but it's gotta be competitive. I think Tomb of Horrors might have it beat, but I haven't counted. The 4e conversion [the Dungeon #197 one] is really weird in particular because…4e feels like the edition least interested in the legacy of DND? It was boldly doing its own thing. A good quality, actually.

Anyway, it's time to slag off* on a beloved adventure. Note, I am using the earliest copy of G1 I can find, which is from waaaay later when D3 was complete. I apologize.

*And by slag off, I mean "be critical of at all". In practice, this module is actually showing some unusual acumen compared to its contemporaries.

EDIT: I forgot to mention a rather important thing when this was made live -- note the title there! We are officially in ADND land now, so put away your little brown booklets and switch over to the fuck-off awesome player's handbook with the iconic Moloch statue!

Somehow I had gotten my whole life at this point never really…understanding what this structure was supposed to look like? It looks like this.

I honestly think exterior shots of dungeons are critically underrated. Handouts are amazing and being able to flash the back cover art to safely show the party "like this" is actually great, I deeply wish that….any? of the previous modules had done that? I think the only one that did was Tsojconth. Weirdly, the interior drawing is very subtly different. Look at how the logs face:

Not a huge deal but, a kind of weird inconsistency that top one looks like a stockade and the bottom one looks like a log cabin. Side note, we know that the long dimension of this is using 210 feet tall logs, which is to say, the size of an average redwood. These are some big fuck-off trees -- which could be a very interesting detail about the local area.

Now the setup is pretty simple. You were hired to go beat up the giants because they've been raiding the local humans, figure out why they're raiding, and comeback posthaste. The locals have kitted you out with horses, guides, maps, et c -- but no compensation, they have simply omitted a finder's fee (cheap bastards). Also, if you fail, they'll execute you. With friends like these, who needs Giants?

Gary starts with some mild railroading (you accepted the job already, you are already kitted out, you already walked to a nearby cave, you waited til dusk to approach, you notice two guards are missing, and the cave is guaranteed to be moderately hidden. Sure, whatever, I'm going to ignore that if I run this tho. Gary notifies us of a few critical details:

Don't run this stock, that's immoral

Any surviving giants will flee to G2 if they have the opportunity (which, kind of inherently punishes clever play that avoids combat?)

There is a 2% chance per round that the wooden structure will be lit on fire due to chronic rain (why is this a dice roll??)

If you will permit me a tangent, player arson is truly the bane of interesting scenarios everywhere. Whenever a player wonders, "why are all the GM's dungeons underground or in stonework buildings?", it's because doing anything else invites arson as the default and best answer to all problems. Magic items are fireproof and most metal items will not get hot enough to be destroyed, so very often the best solution is to burn the place to the ground and loot it the next day. So, yeah. No wood buildings. Gary's fix is to have all the giants flee into the basement, then waste a week of the PC's time for daring to use arson. Kind of sucks!

Tangent complete.

Here's some random interesting bits:

Gary explicitly states that you can pass yourself off as hill giant kids, which is extremely funny. Minus the implicit child murder.

Naturally there are giant moms doing giant housemaid shit in several rooms. Presumably they have giant curlers too.

The secret door is, literally just a doorway covered by a pelt. I have to hand it to them, that'd trip up most players in 2024 AND make them feel stupid for not figuring it out!

The big reveal that Eclavdra the Drow is secretly behind it all is so lightly teased that it feels downright tasteful.

A giant that uses a ballista as a crossbow (based) and spears for arrows (also based) -- between the prevalence of lightning spears and greatarrows, one starts to think of a certain famous video game. Genuinely I think it'd be a fun exercise one day, for someone who is more knowledgeable than me about Japanese fantasy roleplaying culture, to talk about how anglophone fantasy works made their way into Japan and were interpreted.

One of the cloud giants has hidden a sentient giant slaying sword that speaks all the giant languages, it feels like there's a hell of a story going on there that is only alluded to!

To my knowledge, this is the first official depiction of an orc in DND? Which implies that Gary is team pig-orcs, which is cool. Frankly, I love porcine orcs, or even better just pigfolk in general, they're great.

I think it is actually a rather bold early stance for Gary to hold that, even here in 1978, Chaotic aligned creatures are not automatically friends. Granted, that's how it is in Elric, so it's not THAT bold, but clearly everyone else missed the memo. The orcs are willing to side with you at least in the short-run, and in our previous modules it was very rare to have groups of chaotic-aligned creatures fighting one another. It was always just personal beefs. In fact, the overall theme of G1 so far is that despite the boxy-ass dungeon design, there's already a command of naturalism that even modern dungeons really struggle with. Factionalism truly is the gift that keeps on giving for the GM!

So the big reveal internally to G1 (just think of that -- a reveal internally to G1, and externally to the GDQ supermodule -- we're already getting pacing!) is that the orc slaves have rebelled. And -- hey -- good for them. There's also a kind of…built-in companion refill system going on here? So in oldish DND the way it works is, the expectation is the party is not just 5 guys with swords. You've got companions to help fight, and you've got hirelings to do other stuff (test suspected traps, if you're evil). And you can only hire so many of these guys from town, but attrition is going to happen. So the modules simply provides, automatic replacements should you negotiate worth a quarter of a shit. A dwarf slave here, an orc slave there. Maybe a giant dissenter if you're really clever. One of the potential "rewards" you can get is more dudes to throw at problems.

More interesting bits

There is, what I can only really call an abortive idea going on here where there's a scary temple in the basement? But no one worships there and no information is provided. It is merely a fucked up altar. I think I vaguely recall that it's retconned Tharizdun in one of the remakes? They always retcon things to be Tharizdun. Busy man, Tharzy.

Gary, Gary no. Stop it. Stop this 78 guys bullshit. I thought we had established that giant rooms of giant clumps of guys was bad. I know you have terminal Napoleonics brain but stop.

Wait, Steading is a noun? I always thought it was a verb. Yknow, like "Steading those hill giants", taking 'em down a notch. Apparently, a Steading is a small farm -- same etymology as Homestead. I guess mark that as our first Gygaxism?

Our second Gygaxism is gill, which is "a quarter pint of an alcoholic drink", which is to say a few mouthfuls

Always end your adventures with weird, ominous non-diegetic text. On the flip-side, absolutely do not do what the adventure does, and end on a teleporter that takes you to the next dungeon. That is the worst option.

Anyway, that's the whole Hill Giant situation. Honestly, it's better than I remembered, but in proud module tradition up to this point it gets weirdly filler-y in the basement. There's just something about basements that makes dungeon designers stop giving a shit, I swear. I do need to give the man his due, even though he was a shitass person: Gygax wrote an 11 page module that is of noticeably higher killer-to-filler ratio than any of his contemporaries. G1 is better than any of its predecessors, pound for pound. It is way, way shorter which is I suppose a plus to me and a minus to others, but -- there is a clear internal logic to this place that is tragically missing from (say) The Dwarven Glory. And that internal logic is the beginning of good adventure design. Anyway, we have two fun tidbits to discuss before we end for the day.

First up, we have an of-the-time account of events in Dragon #19! It turns out that in Origins '78 they played G1-G3's prototype. The account is of the winners (mostly West Virginians, a few Michiganders), who used their magic extremely liberally to hide what they were doing as well as to scout. They did opt to light the place on fire, good for them! If you want to check this out, it's on page 3. I will mention G2 and G3 here as relevant later.

Second up, there's a weird interquel hiding in Dungeon #198! Hanging out as an informal G1.5 is "The Warrens of the Stone Giant Thane!" I will not review it in full because my understanding of 4e is, basically just skimming the PHB and reading the DMG, but essentially the Stone Giants are hypothetically aloof and not particularly loyal to their Fire Giant superiors, but someone gave them The Rock That Makes You Crazy and so now they are. Smash the rock!

Man, map design in the 4e era was so fucking bad. It looks fine, but like, this is four circles. And downstairs is, of course, cave as far as the eye can see. Aren't stone giants supposed to be skilled carvers? Anyway, If you feel like G2 would be too big of a jump mechanically compared to G1, this exists. I'm sure you could use it if you liked, and certainly there is a Genre of Grognard who would be kinda tickled at the thought of finding "lost content" for el classico GDQ.

Next week, we cover G2, which was also in July. So was G3! They're triplets!

#1e #chronotsr #dnd #dungeons and dragons #tsr #ttrpg #g1 #against the giants #gary gygax #adnd

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cagemasterfantasy · 2 months

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(Almost) every single canon adventure for dnd 5e in order for @doodl3 and any other adventure that happens to stumble upon these

Lost Mine of Phandelver (the adventure the book The Shattered Obelisk is based off of and is the starter set for 5e) Hoard of the Dragon Queen (The first official adventure for 5e) Rise of Tiamat(The Sequel to Hoard of the Dragon Queen) Princes of the Apocalypse Out of the Abyss (for Undertale fans this is going to be the closest you'll get to Undertale Dnd or at the very least Deltarune) Curse of Strahd Storm King's Thunder Tales From The Yawning Portal (this is the first dnd book to feature multiple dnd adventures from the past modified for 5e with the adventures in order being (The Sunless Citadel, The Forge of Fury, The Hidden Shrine of Tamoachan, White Plume Mountain, Dead in Thay, Against the Giants and The original Tomb of Horrors) Tomb of Annihilation (this one is a bit like Legend of Zelda sorry for the quality this was the best one I could find) Waterdeep Dragon Heist Waterdeep: Dungeon of the Mad Mage (like Rise of Tiamat this is the sequel to Dragon Heist) Ghosts of Saltmarsh (for those fans of Pirates of the Caribbean this one is for you like Yawning Portal this is yet another mashup of past dnd adventures modified for 5e those adventures being: The Sinister Secret of Saltmarsh, Danger at Dunwater, Salvage Operation, Isle of the Abbey, The Final Enemy, Tammeraut's Fate and The Styes) Dragon of Icespire Peak (the second of the 3 starter sets) Baldur's Gate - Descent into Avernus Icewind Dale - Rime of the Frostmaiden Candlekeep Mysteries (this is a set of mini adventures :D) The Wild Beyond the Witchlight (if you love Satyrs you'll love this one) Journeys through the Radiant Citadel (Another set of mini adventures :D) Dragons of Stormwreck Isle (the final starter set for 5e) Keys From The Golden Vault (yet again another set of mini adventures :D) Chains of Asmodeus (Here's a little fun fact about this adventure even though it's centered around the Nine Hells this book was used for charity where half of the proceeds made by this book were donated to charity :D)

Sorry I couldn't find The Shattered Obelisk, Vecna: Eve of Ruin or Quests from the Infinite Staircase (the final set of past dnd adventures reformated for 5e)

In these books you will also find maps, stories, monsters and unique magic items that aren't in any of the other books (Don't worry they give descriptions on what the magic items do and they even provide monster stat blocks)

To @doodl3 and any other adventurer who stumbles upon these please enjoy these books. 5e has been almost my entire life and these books have always made me so happy. I am sad to see 5e go next month (as of me typing this). But with these pdfs you can now view the adventures I've been on and replay them as you wish. To any who see this may these stories inspire you to write epic stories and as I always say: May your dice roles be legendary. Whoever reads this and reads all of these books 1 you are awesome VIRTUAL FIST BUMP FROM ME. 2 please tell me which of these books you enjoyed :D.

Oh ps you'll need the Player's Handbook, Dungeon Master's Guide and Monster Manual to read these books.

#dnd books

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fyreiswriting · 2 months

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Chapter 39 of Future, Past, Present is live!!!

Nyrra lingered by the fire for a time, letting her feet dangle off the mushroom and listening to the tall tales her companions came up with. Karlach and Wyll liked to try and outdo the other with increasingly zany stories, only half of which she thought had any basis in truth at all. Laughter filled the Underdark air as Gale interjected with a tale of his own– the Yawning Portal, an endless fount of legends and myths, centered heavily in them as before. He’d told the one he spoke of now last time as well; she fought not to spoil the ending, covering her mouth as though hiding fear to conceal a broad, beaming smile. When the punchline hit and uproarous laughter filled the air, she joined them. Her shoulders shook silently as she laughed without a sound. Gale caught her eye as she straightened, wiping away tears of mirth. His pleased smirk softened slightly. A wiggle of her tadpole. Should you have the time and the inclination, I’d be delighted to share that lesson with you this evening. Her heart soared, and she didn’t bother fighting down the delighted smile that spread across her face. I’d love to, she told him, honestly and with her whole heart. He inclined his head to her, just slightly, then turned his attention back to the fire.

In which The Lesson occurs- after 39 chapters of pining. I told y'all I like slow burns.

As an update: Chapters will return to a biweekly schedule starting this week, so the next update will go live on Wednesday. Just want to make sure I don't burn myself out or run out of chapters. :D So see you Wednesday!!

#bg3 #fanfic #ao3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #nyrra #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios

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dndhistory · 8 months

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392. Harry Nuckols - B9: Castle Caldwell and Beyond (1985)

Another set for Basic D&D, therefore covering levels 1-3 of the game, this module is slightly different than usual. While we are now, in fifth edition, used to anthology volumes with several unconnected or only lightly connected adventures to be played in short sessions (think Tales from the Yawning Portal or Keys from the Golden Vault), back in the day there were not very common.

Shorter adventures were usually those that you could find in competition modules, designed to be played in one session in a competitive mode in the context of a convention or something similar. Therefore B9: Castle Caldwell and Beyond is a new idea. The module consists of five different adventures with the first two being connected but the other 3 being quite discreet. All of them are also designed to be played in one session.

The adventures themselves are quite simple, as befits the low level they are aimed for, with the first two adventures being simple "clear out the dungeon" missions, but growing in complexity as the module goes on. What we also get here is a pretty nifty Clyde Caldwell cover... which I suppose is a must for a module entitled Castle Caldwell.

#adnd #dnd #ttrpg #ad&d #d&d #dnd art #dungeons and dragons #dungeons & dragons

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jonathanbyersphd · 1 year

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How would you write the Jancy-Coming-Back-From-Murray’s-Car-Ride-True-Feelings-Confession?

Hi Anon,

I accidentally wrote a mini-fic so I hope that's ok.

Jonathan's tapping the steering wheel. He'll nervously get out three taps, realize what he's doing and then rub the leather like that's going to fix the cracking. He insisted that Nancy should try to get some sleep but every time she closes her eyes he's tapping away again like their own spin on The Tell-Tale Heart. She peers one eye open to investigate. Overall, he looks very serious. He's sitting up stiff as a board, eyes straight ahead, hands perfectly at ten and two. But she knows him better, she knows she has to look harder to really get a read on him. His sweater looks rumpled from pulling it in y so quickly, there's fine lines and dark circles under his eyes and he moves his jaw like he's stifling a yawn. She has an overwhelming urge to tell him to pull over so she can kiss him there but shakes her head thinking better of it. She knows he's not going to stop until he's sure whatever is growing under the lab hasn't gotten to his little brother.He's worried but handsome and she gets to think that because he's her… well her something. She feigns a sigh to get his attention. "Oh hey, sorry… I didn't mean to …" he trails off He loosens his right hand from the wheel and she takes it before she can stop herself. Jonathan's watching her from the corner of his eye, not quite sure what she's up to. She doesn't really know herself, but she raises his hand to her mouth and gives it a kiss all the same. She doesn't miss the way pink creeps into his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere" she confesses just loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything at first and now she's the nervous one. "The world's ending" he argues. "I-" "And there's Steve" "Jonathan" "And you know Will and my mom and look it's fine I get it, just a one time-" "Jonathan I love you and I'm not going anywhere" she cuts him off, she's not going to listen to every reason why they shouldn't be together. Because if the world really is ending she doesn't care anymore. Nancy Wheeler loves Jonathan Byers, Jonathan Byers loves Nancy Wheeler and screw what anyone else has to say about it. "Ok good because it would've been really hard to let you" he confesses. "Let me?" She challenges. "I just, I mean… before you know.. I didn't.. and now I do and-" he rambles. "It's ok I get it I thought the pull out was good too" she teases and noticed the corners of his mouth twitch to form a smile before he thinks better of it. "That's not-" he protests. "Oh so you lied this morning?" She taunts, content to keep up their playful banter. Jonathan grumbles, rolls his eyes and hits the breaks turning on the hazard lights. He quickly turns to face her and he looks at her like he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. It's nerve wracking and exciting all at once. Then he cups her face and kisses her. It's different from last night, less hungry, more reassuring and steady. "I love you" he confesses when he pulls away "And that scares me" "More than the portal to hell?" She questions. "Uh about the same actually" he admits. "I see" she nods. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation or just the absurdity of the last forty eight hours finally hitting her but she suddenly lets out a laugh, surprising Jonathan. "What's so funny?" He asks, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Who picks the end of the world to finally get together?" She asks through her laughs. Jonathan takes a minute to digest her words before deciding that it is funny. "A couple of weirdos" he jokes. Nancy calms herself down and scoots underneath his right arm and wraps her arms around his waist. "You don't need to worry about me" she promises softly. "Yea ok" he huffs sarcastically. "I mean it, you're stuck with me" she informs him. End of the world be damned, he's hers for however long they have left. "Promise?" Jonathan asks hopefully. "Promise" Nancy confirms.

#ALEXA PLAY WILD HORSES BY THE ROLLING STONES #THEN FOLLOW IT UP WITH THANK YOU BY LED ZEPPLIN #I am NORMAL about them #and about them swearing their “loyalty?” to each other when faced with the apocalypse #so VERY normal #y'all get it right?#anon asks #stranger things #jancy #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #jancy fic #my fic #jonathan x nancy #nancy x jonathan

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