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xmoriartea · 2 years

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So after our last lovely scry of the evening, we learned a few things: Strahd was taking the merfolk and turning them, Rahadin was in full gear war mode, and Nadia had been taken and was already turning others in the lake.

We had work to do.

While most of us slept in the Tiny Hut inside the Inn, the artificers Kalina and Tanner got to work prepping everything we needed. Silver powder. Ruby dust. Some bombs. You know, average supplies. Leaving the clerics their requested supplies, Tanner and Kalina then went to meet with... the elves.

Kasimir is my cleric's least favorite person, but only because Alkali isn't counting Strahd and Rahadin as people. BUT Tanner rightly guessed, Kasimir and Patrina also wanted to see Rahadin suffer, and so he supplied them with spellbooks (since as "GUESTS" of Ravenloft, theirs were confiscated) to gain their assistance.

Patrina was fucking giddy and sprinted off with hers to prepare and I'm betting this girl never needed the promise of vampirism to be blood thirsty. Kasimir kinda just grimaced a lot and looked at his sister like 'something's going to burn down, okay, lets come to terms with it now.'

For the Record: Tanner, a whole ass day later, still hasn't told Alkali, because he has an INT of 20 and she has a SPITE of 30

On the way back to Kalina's place to pick up some other things, our vamp courier friend Lexx came streaking like a bat out of hell towards Tanner demanding to know what she just delivered to Strahd.

APPARENTLY Strahd DID NOT like Tanner's Very Thoughtful prosthetic gauntlet and DOES believe in killing the messenger.

Tanner apologized, explained, and watched a vampire get somehow more pale. He then told her she best get out of Vallaki asap cause it was about to become a No Go space for all undead, and he didn't want her hurt. Chased by vampires and werewolves, maybe, but not hurt.

And because he's an Artificer™, Tanner had been having ideas. Ideas about motes and running water around the town, connecting the water to the lake, etc. Tanner didn't have the time for this, but he knew two crotchety old women with specialties in moving parts and liquids.

Kalina's grandmother Ethel and the local alchemist Faraga fucking hate each other, but they're the best in their games around. Big "If she dies who the fuck do I harass?" energy with them. Tanner found a questionable temp youth potion from the Bonegrinders... and he was offering it to the victor.

So while the rest of us fool are dealing with vampires, these two horny and hateful old women were racing to invent plumbing out of sheer spite - you love to see it.

What you DON'T love to see is Tanner trotting over to the tannery where he left Strahd's fucking HAND to be turned into a GLOVE because he AND the lowercase-t tanner are both absolutely fucking haunted.

Thankfully, Alkali had already drained the hand of its blood for her own haunted uses.

Meanwhile, since all this shit was happening at like 5am, around 20 minutes to sunup, Alkali got to work. Planning to do the ritual downstairs in the inn, she had a word with Denica about using the floor space and was told she'd received post.

Alkali was handed a letter with achingly familiar handwriting, and sort of felt her stomach drop. A vistani man had dropped it off, but it was marked with post from the port where she was supposed meet her twin.

She had no idea how this letter got to her, what this possibly meant for her brother, and she really really hated to think on it. She had just held Mina through her grieving and now had to go save 1 of 2 mertwins she promised to protect — THIS was already too much sibling crisis without factoring in her own.

So she put the letter away, trusted her brother was Far Far Far Away from this, and actually got to work with Forbiddance. Now. Forbiddance is a damn good spell. But it's not Protect the Town good. Vallaki's pretty big.

But you gotta love a fish with faith huh?

Her casting of the spell at the heart of the town was amplified by the town's guarding Saint, a being Alkali once animated the bones of to also defend the town in new and exciting ways, leaving them in her debt. This spell rolled out like crashing waves to the walls of Vallaki and held.

Now the fun thing: all of Alkali's magic is wet. It's just how it be when you're an Umberlee bitch. So for the first time EVER, these landlocked, lake-fearing Barovians are all hearing the sounds of waves and ocean, like she just slapped seashells to all of their ears.

Now there was some unrest about that, and maybe we should have given Burgomaster Ismark a heads up, but eh. They're fine.

As long as you hear the sea in Vallaki, you're safe.

Back together again, the party split up once more with the majority going to find horses and Tanner and Alkali off to pay Lady Wachter a visit. Von Holtz had promised to send us a carriage to speak face to face, but we were on a time crunch. Fish to save. So. Horses.

Lady Wachter... we know she's fucky. We don't know her whole ass deal, but we know Things™ and we know she's pro-Strahd even if she sat on the Vallaki Council. So Tanner made it quite clear that she had a choice. She either heed our words and understand Vallaki (and thus herself) were in danger OR we eliminated her as one of those dangers. She was Not Pleased. But we promised her we could be more rewarding than Strahd if she swore herself to the town entirely.

Restoring her family seemed to be the incentive she needed (but never a knock a death threat).

That all set, off to the Von Holtz estate we went. Along the way we saw your fun and casual and totally new roadside grave, sensed some undead lurking in the woods, and just sort of rushed on by all of it because it's a Ride to the estate and this was only a bullet point on our to-do list.

We get there, we stated our business, and we were asked to wait. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 20 minutes. We joked that this motherfucker was taking so long we could have cast Forbiddance in here. For funsies.

Von Holtz arrived, said he didn't expect us so soon, and sat across from us. Now. We're quite the party with our NPC friends, six strong. And dear Kalina... is a newfound Paladin of Gond. The moment he walked in, she nudged Tanner under the table because her God Senses were tingling.

So not everyone knows, but things start to... feel off. Tanner runs the conversation, having been the one to strike the deal about trading some manner of protection to Holtz for the dragon skull in his study. And the rest of us start to... pay attention.

As the deal proceeds, Tanner moves to shake Von Holtz's hand, and holds out his left one, putting Holtz in a position to do the same. But Holtz strictly holds out his right. Because for as much as it SEEMS he has a left hand...

he doesn't anymore. We have that in a bag.

And the moment Tanner asks why he didn't like the gift, all the remaining pieces fit into place and we realize we're in a small room with Strahd.

It fell quickly into mayhem. We were not prepared for THIS encounter exactly, but we made do. He pulled some funhouse shit and melded into the walls, as these runes started flashing around the room and we realized we were locked in.

(Oh, and don't worry. The hellhound there is ours. His name is Bandit.)

We started busting down the door, we know we did some Good Startling hits to Strahd before he vanished, but the goal was to get out, get the skull, and Peace. We mostly all got out, he showed himself again, AGAIN tried to fish and bag Arabelle, but I twin Reaper cantrip'd him (thank you Death Domain) and the fish and the polymorph dropped.

Then we started wailing on him.

Maybe we don't run yet. Maybe... Maybe we see if we can mist him. Or—

A few of us dropped to 0 when the runes in the room went off, but Mass Cure Wounds is a very good scroll and they're back up. We got... wildly close to making him HURT, but he just phased into the wall and was gone again, so we move.

Fool just keeps underestimating us though. He had prepared to give us the skull. Had had it loaded onto our cart outside well before we realized what he was. So Tanner shrunk it, shoved it into the bag of holding, and we Booked It to the lake.

We short rested out there, everyone checking in on each other, and Tanner gave Kalina the protective ring he was going to give Holtz. Alkali squinted angrily at a boat out on the lake, but most importantly, we recovered so much HP. Oh my gods were we low.

And it's about this point that I, Kaitie, started to run through EVERY Fucking Encounter with Holtz and shriek a little now knowing he's Strahd. Lads. I said so much shit to his face with a smile and a courtesy and he couldn't do shit. I WINED AND DINED HIS BRIDES WHILE HE WATCHED. Bless.

But I'm also left thinking of the original 'deal' Von Holtz wanted to strike where we let Arabelle and Rowan stay at his estate for a time and how he PROMISED Strahd would never know and I just

BUT we still had to get in the lake and see the damage. No rest for the weary in Barovia, folks.

#barovian currents #curse of strahd #this was HALF of a session #JUST HALF #so much shit went down that note omfg

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barovian-dawn-seekers · 4 years

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Escaping Ravenloft

Everyone had tried to talk Friend of Foe and Mistake out of venturing into Castle Ravenloft once again, but try as they might they couldn’t. Excuses like “we’d be no use at the dinner” and “Strahd won’t even be there, he’s supposed to be at the dinner” were spouted, though at the same time everyone knew it absolutely had to be a trap of some form. Yes, Strahd was supposed to be attending dinner at the Wachter house with them, but who was to say that he wouldn’t wait until the last moment and teleport there? Or that the moment he saw that not everyone was there that he’d instantly head back? Still, if ever there was a chance they could reclaim Argynvost’s skull and return it to its rightful resting place this had to be it.

It was argued then that if they were already going through with this insane plan they should take Nemissa long. The Wachters still made her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to sit at a dinner table with them anyways. But.... Stealth would perhaps become a problem then. Regardless, they would give it a try.

Everything seemed to go alright at first. Friend and Mistake climbed up to the same broken window they had entered from before, once again affixing a rope and sending it down for Nemissa to follow. Yavis had been able to fill in the information about any rooms they had not yet visited, as she had spent some time there as well. No plan is foolproof though, and eventually stealth did indeed fail. And of all people to catch them; Lea - Nemissa’s mother. Sliding out, Friend put on his best grin with an idea and announced to Lea that they had brought Nemissa to Ravenloft so that they could finally meet after all those years they spent apart.

This sent Nemissa’s heart sinking. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this trip, not to meet her mother working for the enemy. But.... It seemed to work out in the end. After some discussion she helped the three of them to the “bone room”, doing her best to distract Cyrus long enough for the trio to manage to work the large skull into their borrowed bag of holding. Until Strahd’s displease voice spread through the room, confirming that the dinner plans had been made knowing that they would not be able to resist. The skull was already in the bag though. If they could just manage to escape maybe they could keep running and eventually make it out.

Escaping was very rough though, with Mistake initially putting herself between Strahd and the others and taking substantial damage as Strahd plunged his hand deep into her chest. The trio continued to pour everything they had into the fight, all while trying to slowly make their way back to their escape route and worrying all the while that a terrible fate had befallen Lea for allowing them in. Stuns refused to hold (ah, to have legendary resistances to burn), blood spilled across the halls, rooms were lit ablaze as Strahd called upon lightning, and the situation was looking grim as the vampire continued to close in with every passing moment. Eventually they made it back to the room they had entered from. Broken window in sight, they took a mad dash.

Mistake, by far the most injured, took flight first, dashing out the window and grabbing onto the rope to slow her decent. To buy her time Nemissa clutched the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind tightly and called upon its powers for one final chance as Friend bolted for the window, taking her in his arms on the way. Energy crackled through the room as the amulet’s powers took hold of the vampire lord, holding him in place for only moments as Friend’s claws dug deeply into the castle’s walls in his best attempt to slow their fall with no time to take for the rope.

Ahead of them Mistake could only keep running, stumbling all the way as she watched swarms of vampire spawn crawling along the walls to begin their chase. They’d escaped the castle, but for how long could they keep running? How long did they have until Strahd broke free and would catch up to them without any effort? They were questions that barely had time to cross their minds before his advance continued.

It would be thanks to Lea once again that they would make it off the castle grounds at all. With the strong will of a mother seeking to protect her child the artificer called upon every ounce of strength in her as a light filled the courtyard and all within came to a halt. Time had come to halt, as she turned to the daughter that did not understand the love she truly held for her and begged for her to go as quickly as she could, for she knew now how long she could contain them all.

The dangers were not over, but at least for now they had escaped Ravenloft.

A big thanks once again to Earthsong9405 for this amazing piece of our kids making their daring escape from Ravenloft! She put so much time and love into this piece and it turned out absolutely stunning. The emotions portrayed are just perfect and I couldn’t ask for a better artist to get the chance to work with. <3 If you haven’t already please please please go check out all of her other work!

#Curse of Strahd #CoS #d&d 5e #Dungeons and Dragons #Ravenloft #Mistake #Nemissa #Friend of Foe #Warforged #Tiefling #Tabaxi

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nerdythebard · 3 years

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#8: Adrian 'Alucard' Tepes [Castlevania]

Surprise!

Told you I can do any fictional character. Feel free to send me your suggestions!

By the time I'm writing this, season 4 of Netflix's Castlevania shall hit our screens in two days. Because of that, I decided to do something special and build the main trio in D&D. We'll start with everybody's bundle of daddy issues - Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes aka Alucard. This half-vampire swordsman uses his charm and nimbleness to overpower his foes.

Next Time: Never tell this woman beer is better than sex with her, my man... see what happens.

Now, let's see what we need to bring Alucard into our D&D game.

Errr... besides that.

Half-Blood Prince: Alucard is a half-vampire son of Dracula. He's quite an accomplished scholar, orator, and all-around high-class fella. His strength, speed, and intelligence are obviously above that of any mortal, but I'm afraid this is D&D, not anime. We have to balance it out.

Floaty Sword: Alucard's weapon of choice is a longsword he controls telekinetically. We don't see him doing much in terms of magic and spellcasting (besides occasional quick stride akin to teleportation), so we shall focus on this one weapon.

Tough: I mean... my dude fights either shirtless or in a trenchcoat and he still can take more Punchables™ than Mama said. What I mean is, we need some good AC on him.

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The issue of Alucard's race is pretty much non-existing; he's a half-vampire, there is a half-vampire option in D&D that is about to become official with the upcoming release of Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft.

Alucard is a Dhampir. We get to pick a +2 and +1 to two different stats of our choice, let's get +2 Dexterity and +1 Constitution. We get both walking AND climbing speed of 35 feet, 60 feet of Darkvision, and we get to speak Common and one other language of our choice. Most importantly, we get Vampiric Bite, which lets us use our teeth as natural weapons. We can add our Constitution modifier to both attack and damage rolls of our fangs, and the bite deals 1d4 piercing damage. If we're below 50% health, we have an advantage on the attack roll. We're not ourselves when we're hungry. If the creature we bite is not a construct or an undead, we can choose one of the following benefits:

regain Hit Points equal to the damage of our bite;

gain a bonus to the next ability check or attack roll we make (bonus equals the damage of our bite)

We can use those bite benefits the number of times equal to our proficiency bonus, and we regain all bites after finishing a long rest.

For Alucard's background, I feel like going with Noble is most fitting. We get proficiency with History and Persuasion, proficiency in one gaming set, we learn one language of our choice, and we gain the Position of Privilege feature; much like Shelter of the Faithful or Military Rank from previous builds, this one grants us ability to secure an audience with a noble, or use our status to gain entrance to more secured locations. Nobody tells the son of Dracula what he can or can't do!

ABILITY SCORES

If you ever seen Alucard, you know he's scoring 18 in every single thing right away. That makes him almost anime protagonist-level of awesome. However, once again, this is D&D. We must be fair and adhere to the rules:

We start with Constitution, as we're pretty difficult to hurt (our only weakness seems to be attractive Japanese hunters). Dexterity is next, it is our primary fighting ability, and we need it to be able to go shirtless into battle. We follow that up with Strength, we are nimble but we can still punch a full-on vampire in the face hard enough to make him feel it.

Intelligence is next, we've had Dracula's entire library to kill time, and we're pretty educated. Wisdom is a bit lower than we need it to be, but we did get outsmarted by two Belmont wannabes. We'll work on that. Unfortunately, we have to dump Charisma.

H-hey! For my defence, he's been described as a teenager in an adult's body! He is educated and eloquent, but apart from that, his charm comes from how inept and awkward he is... err... it doesn't work, eh?

YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!

CLASS

Level 1 - Fighter: No big surprise there, we're not a caster or a tank, this is a damage-dealer build. As a Fighter, we get a d10 for our Hit Dice, [10 + Constitution modifier] starting Hit Points, proficiency with light armour, medium armour, heavy armour, shields, simple weapons, and martial weapons. We don't need armour for this build (we've seen Alucard using a shield in S4 trailer), and I think his sword is long and thin enough to count as a rapier. Our saving throws are Strength and Constitution, and we get to pick two class skills: Athletics and Acrobatics seems stereotypical, but they're really useful in this build.

Fighters at 1st level get to pick their Fighting Style, and if you remember Alucard's fight with Trevor, you know we're going with Duelling. This gives us a +2 to damage rolls with our weapon, as long as it's the only one we have in our hands, so we're dropping the shield. We also get Second Wind, letting us heal [1d10 + our Fighter level] once per short or long rest.

Level 2 - Fighter: At this level we get Action Surge, which lets us take one additional Action once per short or long rest.

Level 3 - Fighter: This is the level where we get to pick our subclass, our Martial Archetype. Now, if this build was done earlier, I would've picked Eldritch Knight (as Weapon Bond is especially tempting feature), but thanks once again to Tasha's Cauldron of Everything we have something that fits Alucard much better.

Alucard is a Psi Warrior. He uses much less magic than Sypha, and his main tactic is to use his sword telekinetically. This subclass has everything we need. We start with Psionic Power, which gives us a [our proficiency bonus x2]d6 of Psionic Energy Dice, which can be used to perform special effects. We regain all Psionic Dice after finishing a long rest, but once per short or long rest we can also regain one dice as a bonus action, which is useful in a pinch. We begin with the following psychic effects:

Protective Field: when a creature within 30 feet of us takes damage, we can spend 1 Psionic Die as a reaction to reduce the damage by [the result + our Intelligence modifier].

Psionic Strike: Once on our turn, when we successfully deal damage to a target within 30 feet of us, we can spend 1 Psionic Die to add extra [the result + our Intelligence modifier] force damage.

Telekinetic Movement: As an action, we can select a loose object that is Large or smaller (or one willing creature other than ourselves), and move it up to 30 feet into an unoccupied space. Alternatively, we can summon a Tiny object directly to or from our hand. Our rapier is definitely not Tiny, but moving it as close as 1 foot and using a free action to pick it up is absolutely possible. Once we use this effect, we have to wait a short or long rest, or use a Psionic Die to use it again.

Level 4 - Fighter: It's time for our first Ability Score Improvement! Instead, however, we will pick a feat. Mobile feat along with a Dexterity-based character is truly a DM's bane. Our walking (and climbing) speed increases by 10 feet; when we use the Dash action, we are not affected by difficult terrain; when we make a melee attack against a creature, we do not provoke attacks of opportunity for the rest of the turn, regardless if we hit our target or not.

Level 5 - Fighter: At this level we get Extra Attack. During our turn, as we take our Action, we can now attack twice instead of once. Combining that with Action Surge lets us attack four times on our turn.

It is also here that our Psionic Dice increases from d6 into d8.

Level 6 - Fighter: We get another ASI. Let's raise our Wisdom by 2 points. We need it to multiclass later.

Level 7 - Fighter: Our subclass gets upgraded with Telekinetic Adept. We now get two additional effects to pick for our Psionic Dice:

Psi-Powered Leap: As a bonus action, we gain flying speed of [our walking speed x2] feet until the end of our current turn. Once we take this effect, we cannot do it again until we finish a short or long rest, or spend a Psionic Die to do it again.

Telekinetic Thrust: When we use our Psionic Strike, we can force a Strength saving throw on our target (DC: 8 + our proficiency bonus + our Intelligence modifier). On a failed save, we can either knock the target prone, or move them 10 feet in any horizontal direction.

Level 8 - Fighter: Time for another ASI. Once again, we need to raise our Wisdom, but this time only by a single point. We'll put the other point into Strength, and let's get ready to multiclass into...

Level 9 - Monk: We shall now address Alucard's questionable choice of body protection... and by that I mean lack thereof. As a 1st-level Monk, we get Unarmoured Defence; when we're not wearing any armour, our AC equals [10 + our Dexterity modifier + our Wisdom modifier].

We also get our hand-to-hand combat upgraded with Martial Arts, which is going to be useful if we're somehow separated from our sword. While we're unarmed (or wielding monk weapons) and unarmoured (and with no shield), we gain the following benefits:

We can use Dexterity instead of Strength for attack and damage rolls of our unarmed strikes and monk weapons;

We can now roll a d4 for attack and damage rolls of our unarmed strikes (instead of our Strength or Dexterity modifier) and monk weapons;

When we Attack using unarmed strikes or monk weapons, we can spend a bonus action to do additional unarmed strike.

Level 10 - Monk: Halfway through the build, and we're getting access to the Monk's most important resource, the Ki energy. We start with 2 Ki Points, which we can spend to fuel some extra Monk abilities. Right from the start, we know three of those:

Flurry of Blows: Immediately after we Attack, we can spend 1 Ki Point to deal two extra unarmed strikes.

Patient Defence: We can burn 1 Ki Point to take a Dodge action as a bonus action.

Step of the Wind: For 1 Ki Point, we can take a Dash or Disengage action as a bonus action. Our jump distance also doubles for the turn.

We also get extra speedy here with Unarmoured Movement. While not wearing armour or a shield, our walking speed increases by 10 feet.

Level 11 - Monk: At this level, we shall learn how to Deflect Missiles. Whenever we're hit by a ranged projectile, we can use our reaction to reduce the damage dealt by [1d10 + our Dexterity modifier + our Monk level]. If we manage to reduce the damage to 0, we can catch the projectile with a free hand and, using the same reaction, make a ranged attack (20/60) with the same projectile.

This is also the time to pick our second subclass, our Monastic Tradition. Now, originally I wanted to do Way of the Shadow to get some more of that vampiric sneak, but then I realize it's not exactly what Alucard does. Instead, we'll go Way of the Open Hand, to enhance our unarmed combat. With the Open Hand Technique feature, we gain a boost to our Flurry of Blows. Every time on of our Flurry strikes hits, we can apply one of the following effects:

Target must make a Dexterity saving throw or be knocked prone;

Target must make a Strength saving throw or be pushed up to 15 feet;

Target cannot take reactions until the end of our next turn.

We also get Wholeness of Body to double-down on our vampiric regeneration. Once per long rest, we can use an action to regain Hit Points equal to [our Monk level x3].

It is also at this level that our Psionic Dice get upgraded to a d10.

Level 12 - Fighter: We return to our Jedi Psi Warrior, just in time to get the Indomitable feature. Once per long rest, we can reroll a saving throw we fail, but we must use the new result.

Level 13 - Fighter: Our subclass gets upgraded with Guarded Mind. We are now resistant to psychic damage. Additionally, we can spend a Psionic Die to shake off the charmed or frightened effects if we start our turn under influence of those.

Level 14 - Fighter: Here, our Extra Attack gets improved; now, we can attack three times when taking the Attack action.

Level 15 - Fighter: We get another ASI. Let's raise our Charisma by 2 point, to get rid of the negative modifier.

Level 16 - Fighter: We now get an improvement to our Indomitable feature. We can use it twice per long rest.

Level 17 - Fighter: For another ASI, we shall raise our Dexterity by 2 points.

Level 18 - Fighter: We get the final upgrade for our subclass in this build. By using Bulwark of Force, we can protect ourselves and others. As a bonus action, we can choose a number of creatures within 30 feet that we can see (ourselves included), equal to our Intelligence modifier. The chosen creatures gain the benefit of half-cover for 1 minute, or until we're incapacitated. Once again, we can use it once per long rest, unless we spend a Psionic Die to use it again.

Level 19 - Fighter: For our final ASI we shall raise our Wisdom and Intelligence.

Level 20 - Fighter: Our capstone is Fighter 17. We get three uses of Indomitable per long rest, and two uses of Action Surge, which effectively gives us ability to perform nine attacks on a single target.

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And that is my take on Alucard from Castlevania. Let's see how he presents himself:

First of all, we're a very speedy boi, with basic speed of 55 feet, with Step of the Wind giving us ability to double that movement. We also have a solid Hit Point base, 181 on average. We can make multiple attacks with Action Surge and Extra Attack, and even if we get disarmed, we can handle ourselves with bare hands.

On the other hand, our Charisma makes those particular saving throws a bit difficult. Same thing with our Intelligence, which modifier fuels some of our subclass abilities. We also have a relatively low AC (16 unarmoured), but we do have several skills attributing to avoiding getting hit (the Mobile feat, Patient Defence, etc.)

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Anyhoo, that's it for Alucard. Next time, it's everybody's favourite tomboy wizard!

- Nerdy out!

#dnd #d&d 5e #dungeons and dragons #castlevania #netflix #netflix castlevania #castlevania season 4 #alucard #adrian tepes #fighter #psi warrior #monk #way of the open hand

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jeeperso · 3 years

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D&D Quotes Without Context

Ravenloft Edition, Dementlieu Arc, part 8

OOC: Gorbash line of thought: "This fucker isn't wearing yellow, I CAN TAKE HIS ASS!" OOC: Now, how much MST refs can we cram into this session... “You worship the hell lord of small dick energy, your opinion is meaningless.” "St. Joel, watch over these viewers, that they may keep their sanity with us as their friends." "We've got you, Movie Sign of Evil!" "All this world's a stage... and we are merely slayers." "Blood for the hanged king. Blood for the hanged king. Deep hurting. DEEEP HURTING." "Sorry, my blood is too rich for his taste. All those sweets I eat." You see Gorbash go slack for a minute, then you hear him begin to mutter something, as he turns around, his eyes red with madness. "Blood for the hanged king." Irost: "I know this is bad for us... but for a play? This is kind of an interesting twist." Jonni: “Shut up, New Eddie.” OOC: WHY DO I KEEP GETTING 8'S? "GAH! Like fingernails on a chalkboard... In my brain!" Your minds are assaulted by visions of sandstorms, rock climbing, long driving scenes. COLEMAN FRANCIS. "No springs!" Marshal cries out with a maniacal titter. OOC: Or you can just wait while Marshal tanks it like a true pimp. "I AM THE HANGED KING. AND YOU WILL OBEY." “Yeah? I’m Jonni Humantorch and I’m sexier, badder and harder than you. Fuck off, ghost.” Marshal: "Each man is a god! Each man is FREE!" Irost: "That's right! You tell that bag man!" Hanged king earns a dollar, you earn a dime, so you counterspell on company time. Jonni smiles. “Not today, raggedy Satan!” "Who needs to be favored by the Gods when you're favored by Jonni?" "And now I'm back normal speed, that was close, almost ruined my sugar rush." So, Marshal's whaling away like a temp with golf clubs. GM OOC: You are restrained, you can't speak, and you are suffocating. OOC: Warforged, not suffocating. GM OOC: Right. So its mainly just mildly inconvenient. GM: The Hanged King tilts his head, he was clearly expecting you to be dying. Irost: "How is he supposed to quote really awesome funny gibberish when he's being a boss!" Gorbash: "What's the matter, not so tough without your corpse collection?" OOC: Marshall is a brick shit house of metal on metal. OOC: My Bromance will protect me. OOC2: Your bromance is gonna flatten you. You see Emil standing beside the projector, "This is for my face you blue raspberry flavored son of a hoor [sic]." Marshal: "I cast gun!" As we clear out, Marshal reaches back inside to save Gorbash's NIZE HAT. "EVERYBODY OUT OF THE BURNING UNIVERSE!" "Moving pictures will never take off, take my word for it." Jonni Eldritch blasts the shit out of it. GM: It remains unharmed. Jonni Eldritch shits the blast out of it. [sic] Marshal joins her, casting a ritual in the name of M'y'kNelson, Destroyer of Worlds. GM: Fortunato's follies is a comedy of errors about a clown, the titular Fortunato, who follows around a girl he loves trying to ask for her hand in marriage, but continually getting blocked by increasingly zany and implausible happenstance. It's basically an hour and a half of a looney tunes cartoon. OOC: It makes you weep, it makes you laugh, it makes you reflect on the humanity of the world! "I keep forgetting how creepy it is when we're capable of grinning." Jonni’s eyes never leave him, nor does her “I’m gonna spit roast you with Evard’s black tentacles” smirk. Nyx: "Calix, I see that smirk. Please stop it. You are irritating Jonni, I'm one of the people who has to deal with her when she is irritated. I'm a trained alchemist, rogue, and tinker, I know multiple ways to leave you disabled, unable to talk, but still alive as Warforged are. So I say again, please stop it." Jonni: “And she’s the nice one.” GM: Plus you only got a bit buzzed so you could go watch Fortunato's follies. Which was a big hit: Irost killed it. Irost: The stage dynamite was the key. Gorbash: "Okay we have enough invites to get us into this Ball. Time to plan what we do once we're in." Irost: "Hobnob and rub elbows with the fanciest people in the realm--" Jonni: "Arson." GM: "We know that. We need a key to get to the box, and we know the duchess has the key. So we need to get Calix and the key." Jonni: “I have a plan.” GM: "Is the plan arson?" Jonni: “Vesh and I get the key from the duchess under cover of threesome and the rest of you hold Calix down while Nyx takes off his arms and legs.” Marshal: "No silverface." "We're like... a Matryoshka Doll of distractions." "No offense, you don't strike me as the stealthy type." Marshal: "No, but I am the distraction who has manners." “Fair point.”

Jonni: “Wasn’t Gonna hurt anyone. Just need a wand of grease.” OOC: I DON'T CARE IF JONNI COME CRAWLING IN YOUR WINDOW STARK NAKED WITH A BIG OL' KNIFE! DON'T YOU GIVE NO MATCHES TO JONNI!!! OOC: No one ever goes with Operation: Nekkid Slip and Slide. OOC: And then... then he frost-blocked me! OOC: Rule of thumb: Don't shit talk the eldritch horror to his face. That tends to piss them off.

#dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #quotes without context #ravenloft #mst3k #scp 701

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wrightiverse · 3 years

Text

Hello and this is me annotating/doing director's commentary for the last chapter of Crowd as a victory lap. There's no indulgence like self-indulgence.

“I’ll just make my hot young boyfriend help me,” Robin teases. “When I’m eighty, you’ll only be sixty-nine.”

I love to take a thing from the beginning of a story/scene and revisit it at the end. In this case, 'hot young boyfriend' is a light callback to 'sexy-ass, significantly younger boyfriend' back at the beginning when Robin was sad about the empty nest situation. This is, I think, the first time we specify their exact age gap. It is also the exact age gap I have with my own partner, because I’m very lazy like that. (None of this was written with any reference to what's gone on in the podcast over the last year or so, which is good because it sounds like the whole aging thing for Glenn could have gotten really confusing. Wrightiverse Glenn came back right after Ravenloft, none of that other stuff happened to him. It's all good. Canon is optional.) * * * * *

It’s not like the men in his family have much luck in that area, anyway; Glenn never met either of his grandfathers, and Bill didn’t make it much past fifty.

I think Meryl actually lived for hundreds of years and is still alive in Faerun and they should totally meet, but Glenn doesn’t know all that. * * * * *

Aesthetics aside, it didn't seem like there was much for Glenn to look forward to in middle age and beyond. Nick would grow up and wouldn’t need his dad anymore, and Glenn would be all alone.

From Glenn’s second chapter in Crowd, when Robin is sad about Connor leaving for college:

“I want him to be independent,” Robin is trying to explain into Glenn’s knee, “but also I don’t want to be all alone.” Glenn flicks his ear reproachfully. “You're not all alone. I’m right here, dumbass.”

Sometimes what seems obvious when we're explaining it to somebody else doesn't feel as obvious when it's our turn. Admittedly, Glenn is coming to this with a different set of experiences than Robin is. More on that later. * * * * *

His career would go to shit, because getting old only works for rock stars if they’re actually bluesmen in disguise, like Keith Richards.

I think I got this theory from something Chuck Klosterman wrote, probably Fargo Rock City. * * * * *

He starts his grounding exercise without even thinking about it. Five things he can see: one, an information sign for the city park. Two, a freshly-painted bike rack. Three, some big public art sculpture that looks like a giant rusty hairbrush…

This particular grounding exercise came up earlier in Crowd. I didn't make it up for the story, it's real and many people find that it works well. Feel free to try it! The exercise he alludes to when they’re on the beach, creating ‘safe spaces’ out of vivid memories with lots of sensory details, is also based on a real thing. Lauren, his therapist, is named after the therapist who worked with me on my own PTSD and taught me that and a lot of other good stuff. At least based on my own experience, I can highly recommend EMDR if you can find a good practitioner. * * * * *

It was a hella sweet gesture from the kid.

Connor’s introduction in Name has to do with him carrying shirts past Glenn, and one of those shirts becomes important later to Robin. Given how big the GC3 actually seems to be, I don’t think Connor did the majority of their merch. I assume they used a regular printer and Connor just did small runs of fun custom stuff when he feels like it, meaning not much changed after Glenn quit. * * * * *

Of course, Robin is the only member of the family wearing the shirt right now, because Robin is the only one who doesn’t care that it isn’t cool to wear merch from the gig at the gig itself.

I have no idea how widespread the ‘no wearing merch from the gig at the gig’ thing is, but that’s the rule I learned. * * * * *

Robin is chatting away about something, but it’s hard to follow with all the noise and distraction around them. Glenn decides to let it ride, and allows himself to zone out and just watch Robin talk.

As requested by my brilliant co-author, this is a callback to when Robin spaces out watching Glenn talk on their first date. Both Robin and Glenn are consistently very prone to tuning out when the other one is talking, but neither of them particularly care. As Glenn says on their dinner date - sometimes a man just wants to think out loud for a while and get a ‘hell yeah’ in response. * * * * *

It's vastly unfair that Robin looks so good in direct sunlight, but he probably pulls it off because he's the one person in Los Angeles who isn't trying to look younger than he actually is.

Glenn should spend less time in WeHo. * * * * *

There’s already more gray in Robin’s hair than when they met, although Glenn will only accept partial blame for that. Either way, the old man’s on track to be a full-on silver fox before he even hits fifty.

It felt necessary to drop a reminder that despite how Glenn talks about him, Robin is not actually that damn old. I mean, I'm sure that sounds very old to some of you, but when you're in your mid-to-late 30s like Glenn, somebody in their late 40s is not unreasonably decrepit. I think it has more to do with their respective energies than actual birthdays. * * * * *

“What is it?” Robin has noticed Glenn’s gaze, and he touches his own face to check if there's something on it.

Glenn grins. "Nothing, just ogling."

This is another callback to their first date:

“Do I have something on my face?” Glenn asks, and rubs at his mouth.

“No, you’re good.” Robin says. “You’re great.”

Because I adore a full-circle moment, that's why. * * * * *

“Your eyes were intense," Robin laughs. "It looked like you were going to start growling redrum at me."

This is my own fault for saying in the last chapter that Glenn was rambling about Kubrick moon landing conspiracies when he comes back from his walk. I tried like seven different ways to get them on the subject. I still don’t know if it feels natural. * * * * *

Glenn stabs an accusatory finger toward Robin. “Did you suggest not doing the show because you knew I’d argue with you and talk myself into doing it?”

Can’t outro this story without at least a little argayment.

Glenn usually finds him in the bathroom at the end of the night, looking grumpy about being up past his bedtime and holding some girl’s hair back while she barfs.

With what we've learned about Robin over the course of Crowd, we now have the context to understand that for Robin, this drunk girl is very much the ghost of Christmas Past. I don't imagine he goes to many of these parties.

* * * * *

It doesn’t bother Glenn a bit. Life isn’t a movie, the cheerleader doesn’t have to put on leather pants and start smoking in order to get her bad boy and her happily ever after.

I know that there’s more going on in Grease than that, but consider: would Glenn know that?

* * * * *

He and Robin are very different people, and they always will be. They don’t make sense on the surface, but they both know who they are, and who they are fits together perfectly.

Circling back to Robin at the end of Name, expressing his anxieties:

Robin rests his forehead on the steering wheel, avoiding Glenn’s eyes. “Like I don’t make sense for you, and everybody can see it.”

Some of the circles that I closed in Crowd were ones that were opened in Crowd, but some went back further. * * * * *

Love bubbles up in Glenn like a shaken-up soda, and he finds himself standing up suddenly and grabbing Robin’s shirt collar to tug him down for a kiss.

I wanted to mirror the ‘Hot Dad surges forward to kiss him, hard’ thing from the beginning, but given the established height difference, Glenn can’t just go for it unannounced unless he’s gonna stand tippy-toe. Thank you @whotaughtyougrammar for this art of what happens when Glenn tries the collar-tug and Robin doesn't notice fast enough.

* * * * *

Robin is caught off guard and stumbles half a step back, managing at the last second not to drop his drink. “One second, sweetheart, just one second. You surprised me. What was that about?”

Glenn gives him a lopsided grin. “Luck?”

“Oh, well, then. For luck.”

Luck and how to change it is a big theme throughout the whole series, both in the sense of ‘good fortune/unearned blessings’ and ‘random, unforeseen chance.’ More later about that. * * * * *

When Glenn presses his tongue forward to slip between Robin’s lips, he tastes lemon and sugar.

Same as the first time they kissed, when he’d been drinking whiskey sours.

* * * * *

“Right, yeah,” Robin breathes, but he doesn’t let Glenn out of his arms quite yet. “You know,” Robin adds, “Nick was telling me earlier that he’s going to sleep over at Grant’s tonight.”

So I'll be there when you arrive / The sight of you will prove to me I'm still alive / And when you take me in your arms / And hold me tight / I know it's gonna mean so much tonight * * * * *

She’d found him there, and she'd saved him, like she always did.

We didn’t know Morgan’s name when we first wrote the scene where they discussed her in Name, so we wrote around it as though Glenn was reluctant to name her out loud. We maintained this throughout the rest of Crowd except for the line where Glenn says that he’ll tell Robin about the phone call with Morgan. Felt right. Her presence is very much felt but Glenn, at least, is not in the habit of talking about her unless he has no other option. * * * * *

They ran out of the venue and down the street, hand in hand and giggling like kids playing hooky.

@shrack was the one who began writing our Glenn with very physical methods of showing affection. I liked it a lot as a vibe and carried on with it. He and Morgan are also very young here. Glenn would be 21 or 22 at the oldest, which is barely older than Connor is now. I've always attributed some of his immaturity to the fact that he became a parent pretty young. (Glenn is 36 when Name starts and Nick is 13, meaning Nick was born when Glenn was 23 and probably conceived when Glenn was 22.)

* * * * *

It was like falling in love with every single person in the crowd, all at once. Glenn felt like he would never be lonely again as long as he could have that feeling.

Facing twenty thousand of your friends / how can anyone feel so lonely? * * * * *

By then, the GC3 performed in venues so cavernous that Glenn couldn’t see anything outside his own spotlight. He could hear the audience roar approval at him, making a wall of sound that he could feel like a physical force. It was loud enough to drown out the screaming in his head, loud enough to let him forget that she wasn’t out there among them. It was the closest he could get to forgetting, so Glenn did it as much as he could.

Part of a success that never ends / But I’m thinking about you only... * * * * *

Slowly but surely, he’d been learning how to go through life with his mind and heart focused on someone else’s well-being. It didn’t come naturally: that wasn’t the kind of family either of them knew. Still, they’d promised each other that they could do better than how they were raised.

I am never here for iterations of this dynamic that assume Glenn is the fuck-up and Morgan was the perfect parent. They both became parents at exactly the same moment, you know? The world does not need one more story with an incompetent sitcom dad and his smoking-hot wife who does all the actual parenting. * * * * *

Nick is long since asleep, but Adele fucking Close has stayed up until these sickening hours of the early morning.

Conveniently, Glenn’s brain has overwritten all his memories with the correct name and pronouns for Nick, because writing around it is a pain in the ass otherwise. * * * * *

“Hello, Glenny.”

Bill calling Glenn “Glenny” that time at Ravenloft really stuck with me. I don’t know if they ever revisited that in the actual podcast, but it was so slimy and chilling somehow. * * * * *

“I fucked up,” Glenn says bluntly, and his mother narrows her eyes ever so slightly at his cursing.

Glenn gets in his own head early in Crowd about comparing himself to Penny, and Robin later worries about putting himself on ‘the same level’ as Morgan. Neither of them are quite galaxy-brained enough to realize that there’s more than one person in Glenn’s life who uses a lot of terms of endearment for him, considers themselves old-fashioned, and wishes everybody wouldn’t swear so much. * * * * *

“Thank you, mother,” Glenn grits out. He sounds absolutely nothing like himself, not that she minds. “I appreciate your help.”

I assume that part of the reason Glenn has such a hard time offering genuine apologies is that when he was growing up, too much of his apologizing was forced rather than sincere. * * * * *

“You are out of chances. If you continue to neglect this child, I will get the state involved, and I will take custody myself. I’ve already spoken to the Freemans, and I have their full support.”

Morgan’s parents are not mentioned very often and don’t seem to be a big part of the Close boys’ lives. I imagine that whatever tenuous relationship Glenn had forged with them post-accident was pretty much destroyed by Adele forming this alliance with them and telling Glenn about it. * * * * *

Her patient demeanor is meant to remind him that she's here to clean up his mess again, like she always does, and his proper response is humble and apologetic gratitude.

And that is why Robin being patient can set Glenn off so bad, such as after the bike accident when they were arguing:

Glenn doesn’t really hear most of what Robin’s saying. It’s all just soothing, pointless stuff in that obnoxious tone that means Robin thinks he’s the smart, calm, mature one here and Glenn’s the immature asshole who lost his temper again. He’d never say it, but Glenn can tell what he’s thinking.

I hope it came across clearly in that part that Robin doesn’t actually see the situation that way and isn’t saying or thinking anything to that effect, but Glenn feels like he is because he’s had this somatic/emotional reaction triggered. Spatially he's arguing with Robin, but his body and a lot of his brain thinks he's arguing with his mom. Trauma can be like that. * * * * *

His mother keeps talking like he didn’t say a word. “We can all stay in each others’ lives, Glenny. I’m not trying to cut you out, I’m trying to help you. I know you think I’m a monster, but I’m just trying to do what’s best for my family.”

Sometimes the monster will tell you it's not a monster. * * * * *

From that night forward, Glenn will always know that he’s not a good person, because he almost takes his mother up on the offer.

I don’t think being tempted by this offer means Glenn’s a bad person, but we write Glenn as somebody who wishes he was a good person but is really afraid that he isn’t. He was at a very low point here and he needed help. Feeling drawn to the only help on offer, even if it was from a toxic source, is pretty understandable. * * * * *

"I'll get Nicky ready for school tomorrow and you can sleep in. We’ll finish talking about this when you feel better.”

Man, I hate that abuser thing when they start being sweet as soon as you muster the energy to fight back. You get a little bit of steam built up and then they dodge you like a matador so that it dissipates again. To be clear, Nicky isn't Nick's deadname or anything, it's just the somewhat baby-ish diminutive form that Adele uses for him, like how she calls Glenn "Glenny." * * * * *

“Family is important,” his mother says sadly. Just before she closes the door, she gives him a look that’s an exquisite mix of regret, tender affection, and a tiny spark of hope. Adele would have been a great actress, but Glenn can’t imagine who that particular performance was for.

Performance skills run in the family and Adele comes by her acting chops honestly, although she doesn’t know it. I picture one of those situations where a young woman from a good background gets pregnant by some rakehell actor and her family covers up the scandal by raising the baby as a new sibling. That would mean that as long as Adele’s “older sister” never spilled the beans, nobody in their family at this point knows that they’re related to Meryl. If Nick ever decides to do one of those ancestry DNA tests, things are going to get interesting. * * * * *

He certainly didn’t find it very compelling. Family? All the family he will ever need is sleeping soundly down the hallway, tiny arms wrapped tight around a stuffed plush Babar.

I wanted Nick to have a stuffed animal that was sort of his parallel to Mr. Lion. Robin is drinking with Mr. Lion in the beginning of Crowd when he’s upset about losing Connor to college, and Mr. Lion appears again when Glenn comes in to talk to Nick and Connor after Robin’s accident.

“I… I guess I don’t know.” Nick looks down, avoiding eye contact by staring into the darkness under Connor’s bed. Mr Lion is under there in a clear plastic box, along with some other stuffed animals. Even when Nick first met Connor, the stuffed animals were already banished underneath the bed instead of on top of it. But over the years, Connor’s never thrown them away.

Mr. Lion is one of the various ways we played with the theme that Connor is, as Nick puts it, “somewhere between a kid and an adult.” Connor is a very confident and clever guy, but you don't magically get a giant box of maturity and life experience on your 18th birthday. At various points, he asks both Nick (at the campus concert) and Glenn (after Robin’s accident) to try to understand that he's still growing and figuring stuff out. Nick has definitely been deprived of some chances to be a kid, but in some ways Connor has as well. He started hanging out with Glenn after Penny and Robin split up, and although he and Nick obviously hit it off, Connor was closer to Glenn for a while. In a different universe, that might not have turned out as well - I mean, tell me you wouldn't side-eye that arrangement in real life. I sure would. Robin just sort of flings his hands up at the role Connor plays for the Close boys, but I strongly suspect that shit would not have flown on Penny’s watch.

It’s funny - he thought Connor was so grown-up when they met, but the guy was only 16 when the Wrights moved in next door. He wasn’t much older by the time he was over at the Close place almost every day, helping Nick with homework or cleaning questionable leftovers out of the fridge. It didn’t strike Nick as weird at the time, It was just another thing about his life that wasn’t like anybody else’s. He never questioned what was in it for Connor. Back then, Nick didn’t even realize how lonely he himself was - he wouldn't have figured out why a kid whose parents had just gotten divorced might want to come over to the chaotic Close apartment to get away from the quiet in his own home.

Everybody was doing their best, and everything worked out for the best, but Connor over the course of the stories is sorting out the balance that works for him in terms of responsibility and playfulness. Fortunately, now that he has less responsibility for Nick, he can enjoy Nick more as a friend and brother. In Name, Robin and Glenn both sort of assume Connor will act as a babysitter to Nick while they go off on their first date; by Crowd, Connor is hanging out playing Smash with Nick and Grant as the gents get ready for their dinner date, but he's there socially, as a peer. Him being goofier and more immature also frees up Nick to do the same, since if Connor is cool and Connor is being playful, then "it's not a little kid thing, it's a bro thing" They both get to be kids now in a way that they weren't before, and I love that for them. Anyway, the point of Mr. Lion and why I wanted to give Nick a stuffed animal as well was to draw the parallel between the sons more directly and to anchor the stuffed animal component. So far there hadn't been any moment in which an actual kid was holding an actual stuffed animal.

#to be continued #wrightiverse

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electricxmayhem · 5 years

Text

When It’s Time

Fandom: Dungeons and Daddies

Relationship: Oakson

Word Count: 5,339

Authors notes: There’s a lot of gen content in this because I accidentally thought too hard about the plot and also I’m afraid of intimacy. Please just pretend the action was more drawn out and realistic. Also if the writing of this seems un-American I’m sorry I’m...not American.

One

‘Did anyone think for even a second that this might be a terrible idea?’

‘All our ideas have been terrible, Darryl. This is our best shot right now.’

Trudging around yet another unfamiliar town was wearing on everybody, and the long day had only been made longer by Darryl’s mood. He had been a little extra crabby since his split with Carroll, which would have been understandable were the other dads not so on edge.

‘Can someone else take Peter?’ Ron asked, shifting his shoulders under the weight of Paeden fast asleep on his back, ‘He’s heavier than he looks.’

‘Give him here.’ Henry rubbed his eyes and reached out his arms to take the exhausted boy. But before he had him, something caught his eye and he turned suddenly. Ron let go of Paeden’s legs and the boy fell hard into the dirt, startling himself awake.

‘What the fuck?’ He spluttered.

‘Oh my gosh, Paeden, are you okay, buddy?’ Henry fussed, pulling Paeden up and dusting him off while he squirmed indignantly.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, I can take a hit.’ He sniffed, ‘What happened though?’

‘Oh, I think I just saw the sign.’

‘For the fortune teller?’

‘Yeah, come on, this way.’

Relief bringing a burst of energy, everyone followed Henry to a faintly glowing eye-shaped symbol carved into a wooden sign. Below, in similarly glowing letters the sign said ‘OPEN’. Below the sign was a small tent made of heavy red material.

Glenn reached out and knocked on the door. Nothing happened.

‘Did you just try to knock on a curtain, Glenn?’

‘Look, I’m really tired okay.’

‘Hello?’ Henry tried.

‘Enter.’ Came a creaking voice from inside.

Shrugging, the dads piled into the tent, shepherding Paeden ahead of them. Disappointingly, the tent was no larger on the inside than it was on the outside. There was barely room for 4 and a half people to squeeze in facing the woman sitting at the table within, commanding the room despite her small stature. She smiled at them in silence for what felt like minutes before Henry spoke up again.

‘Uh, are you the Seer of-’

‘Silverman? I certainly am, Mr Oak.’

Henry laughed delightedly. ‘Neat!’

‘Hey, Siri, what’s my name?’ Ron pushed forward.

‘You’re Ron. And my name is not Siri-’

‘Siri, call me uh, Adam Sandler.’

‘............No.’

Darryl waved his hands in the air.

‘We’re getting off track. Ma’am we’re here to-’

‘Let me guess. You vowed to take on the beast in order to gain the favour of Lady Lockwood, so that she might grant you an army to assist you in your raid of Castle Ravenloft.’

‘Uh, yes.’

‘So what do you want from me?’

‘Seems like you already know.’

‘I know a lot of things, Darryl, but I do hate a one-sided conversation. So come on, ask me nicely.’ The old woman leaned forward and clasped her hands under her chin. Her gaze was unnervingly bright for her wizened face.

‘We heard you might be able to give us some clues on the beast, see what we’re up against.’

The Seer chuckled. Drawing back a sheet of velvet she revealed a perfectly smooth crystal ball in the center of the table that glowed softly in the low light. Everyone leaned in.

‘You should know, first and foremost,’ The old woman hummed, ‘That I work for Lady Lockwood. I am forbidden to give you information like that.’

The dads groaned.

‘But!’ She continued, ‘I have one offer. For a few seconds I can allow one of you to see one day into your future. Whatever this reveals may offer you some...foresight into your battle.’

Darryl looked around at the other dads. Everyone seemed to be nodding. Paeden’s head was nodding too, in and out of sleep.

‘I’ll do it.’ Darryl nodded firmly.

‘There will be a price…’

‘No worries.’ Glenn held up a heavy bag, coins jingling as he did, ‘We’re good for that.’

‘Well, then, let’s begin.’

Without warning, the candles in the tent extinguished, leaving everyone blinking in total darkness. Small, cold hands found Darryl’s and he felt the cool curve of the crystal ball under his palms. Anticipation tingled through his arms.

And then suddenly he was somewhere else. His eyes fluttered open and low candlelight spilled in. He could still feel the hard wooden stool of the tent under him, but out of the corner of his eye he could see that he was reclining on a large bed with a thick blanket. It was kind of hard to see anything else, though, because it seemed like something was pressed against his face. He could hear movement and-

Oh God.

He was kissing someone.

Someone was sitting on his lap and he was kissing them.

Shocked, Darryl was vaguely aware of his shoulders moving to run his hands up the other person’s back.

‘Ow!’ The person recoiled suddenly, wincing in pain. Barely breathing, Darryl stared dumbly at the other person. At Henry. It was Henry and he had been kissing Henry and it’s not like he hadn’t thought about it but nothing had prepared him for it actually happening. There was no way this was right. He must have been in someone else’s vision-

‘Sorry! Sorry, I forgot-’ No, that was definitely Darryl’s voice. Those were definitely his arms, wrapped in bandages, moving frantically, touching Henry’s arms, his stomach, his hips-

Laughing, Henry grabbed his fussing hands gently by the wrists. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay! You were distracted.’

Henry was wearing an unfamiliar silk shirt with his old cargo shorts, which looked cleaner than Darryl had seen them in a while. He followed his future self’s awe-stricken gaze up to Henry’s flushed face, and watched as Henry’s hand reached out to brush his forehead. Finally, he heard himself take a breath to say something-

And his vision went black.

Darryl blinked in the darkness, a little shell-shocked, as the Seer gently moved his hands off the crystal ball. One by one, the candles in the tent lit themselves again, and in the flickering light the other dads were leaning in expectantly, searching Darryl’s face for clues. Paeden was sitting on the floor, dozing against Glenn’s leg.

Darryl nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Henry’s hand on his shoulder.

‘Whoah, Darryl, are you okay?’ Henry threw his hands in the air, looking worried.

‘It is something of a harrowing process, seeing one’s future,’ The Seer assured the room, ‘It may take a few seconds for him to adjust.’

Darryl massaged his forehead and turned to look at the others. Somehow he couldn’t quite bring himself to look Henry in the eye.

‘Sorry, sorry guys, I’m fine it’s just...that was weird.’

‘So what’d you see?’ Glenn prompted.

‘Did you see the beast?’ Ron added.

‘I was...in bed.’

A look of collective disappointment shot around the room.

‘Well hold on! It was a big bed in some kind of fancy room, and I had bandages on my arms, and Henry had some kind of sore back or something.’

‘How do you know Henry had a sore back?’

‘He was in there too.’

The others took this pretty easily. Sharing rooms and beds had become a pretty familiar sleeping situation during their time in this world.

‘Well!’ Glenn shrugged, ‘That’s what we get for doing this at night.’

‘No, wait, are you kidding?’ Henry cut across, ‘This is amazing! If me and Darryl are hurt, but we’re resting up in a fancy room, that must mean what he saw was after the battle! Now we know whatever beast we’re up against, we win!’

Darryl put this together. Not only was the fancy room most probably in Lady Lockwood’s house, but despite their injuries they were obviously strong enough to…

Well, they couldn’t have been that hurt anyway.

Glenn placed the bag of coins on the Seer of Silverman’s velvet covered table, and Darryl gave her a firm handshake which she returned with surprising force.

‘Before you go,’ She spoke up ‘Let me see the boy.’

Groggily, Paeden stepped forward, and the Seer fussed over him, holding his hand and pinching his cheeks.

‘I just love children.’ She cooed, ‘How old are you young man?’

‘Eight.’ Paeden snuffled.

‘And so brave for your age! Tell me, little one, how would you like a gift?’

‘Hell yeah.’

‘Paeden, come on, use your manners.’ Henry said.

‘Oh, that’s quite alright.’ The Seer smiled, and turned to pull something from the darkness behind her. ‘I’ve got something I know you’ll enjoy.’

A glint of metal shone in the candlelight and Paeden’s eyes widened.

‘A sword!’

‘Mmhmm, a sword named BeastSlayer. It’s just a name, but hopefully it will bring you luck. Do you like it?’

‘Yeah, it’s boss. It’s fuckin’ sick.’

‘Paeden!’

‘We should go,’ Darryl told the old woman, ‘But thank you for your help.’

She returned his shifting gaze with a knowing smile. ‘You’re quite welcome.’

And, pushing through the curtains into the clear night air, the dads headed back to the van, led by Paeden swinging a massive sword with reckless abandon.

Two

Darryl had always been a light sleeper, even at the best of times, but tonight he’d given up entirely. Knowing he needed to rest up for the fight tomorrow did nothing to quiet his racing mind, and his heart beating fast in his chest just would not let him sleep. He sat in the upright drivers seat and just stared out the window at the city walls.

He thought about the first time Henry had kissed him. It had been to shut him up, but it hadn’t been mean. It had been rushed and desperate but comforting too. He’d felt guilty about the feelings that had stirred in him, cursed the butterflies in his stomach for making something out of what had been nothing but a peacekeeping move on Henry’s part.

What he hadn’t considered before was that there had been plenty of times that Henry had wanted Glenn or Ron to shut up, too. But he only ever kissed Darryl.

Tomorrow, Darryl knew, he was going to have to fight and defeat something mysterious and threatening. He knew it was going to be hard, and that it was going to hurt him and his friends. And still he was more scared of the fact that he was in love with Henry Oak.

As if on cue, Darryl heard stirring from where Henry had been sleeping moments before. He cringed silently to himself and waited for Henry to inevitably notice him sitting up.

‘Darryl?’ God, his sleepy voice at that moment was almost too much .

‘Mmhmm.’

‘What are you doing up?’ Henry whispered.

‘I could ask you the same thing.’

‘To be honest with you,’ Henry climbed gingerly into the passenger’s seat, ‘I, uh. I swallowed my retainer a while back, when I was in bear form. So I’ve been kinda sneaking out at night and turning into a bear to try and, you know, pass it.’

Darryl blinked.

‘You swallowed...you had a retainer? And you haven’t- seen it?’

‘Nope! I hate to think what it could be doing to my insides. Never chewed gum a day in my life and this is what I get.’

Darryl chuckled and Henry smiled at him softly. Did he smile at him differently or was Darryl just reading into it too much? Was that just the way he’d always smiled? Or had he always been smiling like that?

‘You still haven’t told me why you’re up.’

‘Oh you know I just…. just got a lot on my mind.’

Henry reached for Darryl’s hand, which he shakily offered. Turning to face him, cross-legged, Henry turned his hand palm up and looked at it. Darryl shivered as Henry lightly traced his finger over the creases, stroking his fingers one by one.

‘Are you reading my palm?’ Darryl whispered, barely able to breathe.

‘Yeah.’

‘What does it say?’

‘It says I’m no psychic, but I just met one and according to her we’re gonna get through tomorrow, and I’ll be right there with you at the end of the day, sore back or not.’

Darryl closed his hand around Henry’s, squeezing gratefully. Glancing up, he saw Henry’s eyes searching his, open and honest, and he felt a crippling wave of guilt. There was no way he could tell Henry what he saw, but he felt awful keeping it a secret, keeping the image of Henry in his lap behind his eyes, even as he sat in front of him.

Darryl had the strange feeling of being a man caught spying in through the windows of his own house. Slowly, he let go of Henry’s hand and reclined his seat. Henry laughed almost silently as he watched him, before following suit and curling up in the passenger seat.

‘What about your retainer?’

‘It hasn’t killed me yet. What’s one more night?.

Three

The next day dawned with the noise of false bravado, each dad secretly comforting himself with back slaps and battle cries, filling the morning with terrible jokes and tense laughter. Paeden enjoyed swinging his sword a little too close to people’s legs as they hiked towards the castle.

‘Paeden, I’m glad you like the sword but I think you should give it to someone else for the battle, okay buddy?’ Darryl suggested, ‘I don’t want you involved in the action.’

‘Why are you taking me then?’ Paeden huffed.

‘Well we can’t leave you on your own, someone might take you.’

‘I’d take them.’ He grumbled, swinging the sword in a low arc right next to Henry’s ankle.

‘Whoah! I need that!’ Henry was exaggerating his confidence as much as everyone else. Darryl could see that he was paler than usual, and he kept scratching at the skin around his fingernails. Looking around he could see that Ron’s forehead was sweaty and that Glenn had tied his hair back from his face. He only did that when he knew they were getting into some real shit.

The two guards at the castle door regarded them with undisguised judgement as the five of them approached.

‘Hey fellas!’ Glenn waved an arm, ‘We’re here to take on-’

‘The beast?’ Said one of them, ‘Quite. You will see the lady. She is waiting for you.’

‘For some reason.’ The other one added, raising an eyebrow at each of them in turn.

Ignoring this, the dads and Paeden followed the first guard through the door into the huge entrance hall, and down through another door into a huge room with high stone ceilings and tapestries on the wall. In the center of the room stood a long wooden table, and at the end of it, in a high backed chair, was an incredibly muscular woman in a delicately embroidered tunic. She waved a hand for everyone to sit. There were notepads and pens at every chair.

‘So you are the brave warriors who have vowed to slay my beast.’ She looked skeptical. ‘I thought you’d be...I don’t know. Taller.’

‘We’ve got it where it counts.’ Glenn shrugged.

‘I don’t even know what that means.’ The Lady frowned. ‘Is the kid one of you?’

Paeden was drawing in his notepad. It looked like a drawing of himself with a six-pack.

‘He’s just tagging along. He’ll keep to the sidelines.’ Darryl assured.

‘Hell no. I’m fighting that thing.’

‘Maybe you should sit up in the box with me.’ Lady Lockwood patted his shoulder regally.

‘The box? Are you telling me you’re going to be spectating this fight?’ Henry asked.

‘Of course! Why do you think I have people challenge the beast at all? I just love a good blood sport.’

Everyone at the table looked uncomfortable. Suddenly, the Lady clapped her hands.

‘Shall we?’ And she swanned across the floor on legs like tree trunks, while four disgruntled dads and one disappointed boy stomped after her.

Outside the castle, the grounds had been surrounded with a large stone wall, encircling the lawn like an amphitheater. The features of the courtyard still remained; a few pleasant statues, a stone path, flower beds- but it was all overshadowed by a fifteen foot reinforced door set into the wall. No one could tear their eyes away from it.

‘Well, this is where I leave you.’ Lady Lockwood smiled, one hand firmly on Paeden’s shoulder. ‘Good luck, warriors.’

‘Wait.’ Ron said suddenly, ‘Paeden. Give me your sword.’

‘No.’

‘Okay, thanks anyway.’

And just like that they were alone in the courtyard. Darryl could hear the other dads’ breathing in the tense silence.

‘Quick dad huddle?’ He suggested, and the others fell gratefully together, ducking their heads into the private space their bodies created. ‘Okay I don’t think we have much time so let’s just one-two-three-doodlers okay? One, two, three-’

‘Doodlers!’ Came the nervous response as everyone’s hands went up. Henry turned back to the door, and then back to Darryl.

‘Listen, before this kicks off, I just wanted to say-’

The ground shook. Slow, heavy footsteps echoed against the walls. Darryl tightened his grip on his hatchet and set his jaw. Then came the cry of Lady Lockwood, safe in her viewing box above them.

‘RELEASE THE BEAST!’

The door gave way, and standing in the courtyard was a huge, red dragon.

A dragon.

Oh fuck.

For a second everyone just stood there, stunned. Then the dragon bowed its head and starting walking, covering too much ground with a single step. It took a while for all of him to come out of the door.

Henry yelled indistinctly, and suddenly vines burst from the ground, wrapping around the dragon’s legs. They held for a couple of seconds, then they were torn apart like wet spaghetti, lying useless on the ground. Henry looked around desperately.

Already, Darryl had lost sight of Ron. He took this as a good sign.

Steeling himself, Darryl mustered all his strength and ran towards the dragon, hatchet raised. Uncertainty was beginning to grow in his stomach. Maybe that Seer woman had tricked him. Maybe they were going to lose and she had just shown him a fantastical image to spur him on. He aimed for the dragon’s face and caught the side of it as the giant reptile turned away. Strange blood wet his blade.

Darryl was still processing his own strike, catching his breath, when too late he realized the dragon’s head was swinging back in his direction, fast. He tried to scramble out of the way but before he could move the beast’s huge skull knocked the air out of his body, throwing him like a rag doll to the ground. Darryl’s lungs tried to make up for lost time as his head swam. Vaguely aware of the dragon leaning towards him, he dug his heels weakly into the ground. Tears of frustration filling his eyes as huge, awful teeth moved in-

Any breath Darryl had gathered was suddenly knocked from him again, but this time by something smaller and warmer than a dragon’s head. Henry rolled into the space between Darryl and the teeth, his back on Darryl’s stomach, and green poison sprayed into the dragon’s mouth. The dragon recoiled, shaking his head, and Henry was beside Darryl, holding his arm, checking his eyes.

‘Are you okay? Can you stand?’

‘Yeah.’ Darryl croaked, ‘I’m fine.’ He was well aware that the fight was far from over, and even as Henry helped him up, squeezing his hand worriedly as he did, he could see that the dragon had turned its attention to Glenn, armed only with wildly swinging nun-chucks.

A surge of adrenaline tightened Darryl’s grip on his hatchet as Glenn started running, and he moved to strike again, but quickly noticed something was happening. The dragon’s steps became short and unsteady, and its head whipped around in confusion, still oozing blood. With one final step, it fell in an indignant heap on the ground. Darryl couldn’t help but laugh when he saw two of the dragon’s legs tied together with four pairs of shoelaces. Ron stood up behind the heap of scales with a grin. Somewhere above them, Paeden cheered.

‘Hey, nice work, Ron!’ Darryl called.

Nun-chucks spinning, Glenn ran towards the writhing dragon and flailed at it’s jaw, resulting in a loud crack, and a strangled cry as he nutted himself on the rebound. The dragon snorted.

Little by little, smoke began to pour from its nose. Struck by fresh fear, the four dads slowly backed away. The smoke thickened as the dragon’s breathing got heavier, angrier, and with a ‘ping!’ the shoelaces snapped. The dragon was back on its feet. And it was staring at Henry.

Darryl swallowed. He hadn’t thanked Henry yet for stepping in when he was in danger, and there was no time like the present. Henry was standing with his hands out, fruitlessly trying to de-escalate the situation as flames started to lick the dragon’s lips. He moved, and the dragon followed, locked onto his target. And suddenly Darryl was between them, heart hammering, holding up his hatchet like it could provide any protection.

Henry’s hand found Darryl’s shoulder and pulled.

‘Don’t you dare.’ He said as he pushed Darryl behind him, turning his back on the growing flames as he faced him.

Time froze for a second as Henry’s hands cupped Darryl’s face.

‘Look,’ Henry rushed, ‘I know this is a bad time and I should’ve told you before, but I can’t die without saying I love-’

He was cut off as Darryl’s arms were flung around him in a vice grip, and not a second later flames hit them hotter than Darryl could have imagined. He wasn't sure if he screamed, he just focused on Henry’s head buried in his neck hard enough to bruise, and held his body so close he worried he could break it. Fire and desperation rang in his ears, tinted with muffled yells. Smoke filled his lungs.

And it was just smoke. Without warning the flames turned to black, choking, extinguished smoke.

He looked up.

Glenn was wrapped around the dragon’s neck, kicking and yelling. The dragon’s head had dropped to the sooty grass, defeated.

‘FUCK YEAH!’ Glenn yelled, ‘I SLAYED THE FUCKING DRAGON!’

But Darryl was looking past him. Straddling the lifeless dragon’s back was Ron, and buried in the scales in front of him was the BeastSlayer.

‘Nice work, Glenn.’ He smiled genuinely. Glenn stared at the sword.

‘Yeah, I mean...you probably helped.’

From the box, Darryl could hear Paeden whooping, but his attention was turned back to Henry. His back, along with Darryl’s arms, was blackened. The adrenaline coursing through Darryl’s veins stopped him from feeling his burns as badly as they looked, but at least he could still feel Henry’s shaky breathing and bounding heartbeat against his own chest.

‘Henry?’ Henry didn’t move his face from Darryl’s neck. ‘Henry, we won. We did it, we survived.’

Slowly, painfully, Henry lifted his head. His tear stained face was still blank with horror. Darryl all but peeled an arm off Henry’s back to cup the side of his head. He leaned towards him, whispering into his hair.

‘You should have let me protect you.’

Henry’s own hand covered Darryl’s as his brow furrowed.

‘Your job isn’t always to protect people.’

‘It kinda is.’

‘It shouldn’t be.’

‘Guys!’ Glenn yelled, ‘Come on bring it in!’

‘Can we maybe…’ Darryl felt the dull ache in his arms begin to sting, ‘Can we maybe have the group hug over here? And maybe don’t actually touch me?’

Henry disentangled himself from Darryl’s arms and turned shakily to take in the scene with a small shake of his head. Gingerly, laughing with utter relief, the four dads orchestrated a makeshift group hug as decorated guards marched out to escort them inside.

Four

The rest of the day was a blur. The dads were welcomed by an elated Lady Lockwood who quickly bustled them into the castle infirmary. Darryl spent his afternoon biting back tears as attendants washed and bandaged his burnt arms, and biting back embarrassment as they bathed the rest of him and laundered his clothes. Although he had to admit, his aching muscles had been crying out for a hot bath.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Henry. He hadn’t seen him since the fight finished, and everything had been so overwhelming he hadn’t had the chance to think. Well now he had way too much time with only his thoughts.

It was just...it had sounded like Henry was about to say he loved him. Loved him. Loved Darryl. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had told him they loved him. He had kinda resigned himself to giving out love and not getting it back. To protecting without being protected himself.

Of course, he’d seen his future. Maybe it should have been obvious to him. But he had assumed that whatever happened would be Henry experimenting, or giving him what he wanted in celebration, or some weird fluke born from a rush of high emotion. It just hadn’t dared to occur to him that it could be something Henry had wanted too.

Henry wasn’t at dinner. A servant informed them he was on bed rest. Glenn and Ron were almost unrecognizable in new clothes fit for nobles, with washed hair and clean faces. Even Paeden had been dressed up, and was sitting at Lady Lockwood’s right hand side with pride. Darryl felt a little under-dressed, having opted for his newly cleaned polo shirt and jeans, but he couldn’t get into the spirit of celebration anyway. He was too nervous to eat, and ended up asking to be shown to his room early as the others laughed and drank.

The room hit him like a ton of bricks. Of course it was the room from the vision, but it still made everything feel frighteningly real. The red curtains, the heavy blankets, the low candlelight. He sat down to stop himself from pacing. How much time did he have before whatever was going to happen happened? Did he have time to go and pee? Did he even need to pee or was he just nervous? He stared at the candles for a second. They were only recently lit but had melted down a little already. If he wasn’t mistaken they looked pretty close to how they looked in the vision.

There was a knock on the door and the breath was knocked from Darryl for the third time that day. For a moment he was totally frozen.

‘Darryl?’ Henry’s voice came softly through the heavy door.

‘Yeah, uh, come in.’ Darryl called, and watched the doorknob turn and Henry appear in his room, dressed in a familiar silk shirt and his cargo shorts, clean apart from those stubborn iodine stains by the knees, freshly washed hair bouncing as he moved, glasses reflecting the candlelight. Darryl was a little entranced.

‘I thought you were on bed rest.’ Was the first stupid thing out of his idiot mouth. Great job, Darryl. And they say romance is dead.

‘I’m supposed to be.’ Henry smiled, ‘But I wanted to come and see you.’

‘Well, sit down, take it easy. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine, I feel way better.’

‘You look better.’

Darryl moved his legs to let Henry get comfortable on the side of his bed, their hips parallel, close enough to hear each other’s breathing.

‘I’m sorry-’ Darryl started.

‘Don’t.’ Henry cut him off, ‘Please don’t, just, let’s talk about anything else.’

Darryl took a deep breath to settle his nerves. He could feel Henry’s eyes on him as he looked at his hands.

‘Earlier. Before...this.’ He gestured to his bandages. Henry shifted his weight and nodded. Darryl noticed that he looked nervous, too. It wasn’t a look he was used to on Henry. ‘Were you about to say you love me?’

Henry looked very hard at the floor. Then he stared at the wall and sighed. Finally he turned his gaze to his own hands and stuttered ‘I-’

‘Just ‘cos I was wondering whether I should say I love you or I love you too.’

Henry’s shoulders dropped and his eyes widened. For a few seconds he just stared at Darryl, but there was no intensity in it, it didn’t hurt to meet his gaze. It was the stare of someone seeing something beautiful they hadn’t believed existed before.

‘I was.’ He whispered eventually, ‘I mean, I do.’

‘I love you too.’ Darryl smiled ever so gently and Henry softened completely, leaning forward stiffly to rest his hands on Darryl’s shoulders and leaning in as Darryl leaned in to him and their lips met like soot falling, soft and silent.

Kissing Henry before had been exciting. Thrilling, unexpected, and forbidden. This time, it couldn’t have been more different. This time, Darryl let himself relax and melt into it, and his heart jumped as he felt Henry do the same, moving his hands from his shoulders up his neck and into his hair, taking breaks to smile against his lips. Darryl felt safe, trusted to take control as he gently took Henry’s glasses off, and lifted him carefully into his lap when he started slipping off the bed.

This is a hell of a lot better with feeling Darryl thought as he appreciated the warm weight of Henry in his lap, and let his hands pull him closer by the hips, run up his back-

Wait, shit.

‘Ow!’ Henry recoiled suddenly, wincing in pain. Darryl floundered for a moment. How could he have forgotten?

‘Sorry!’ He yelped, ‘Sorry, I forgot-’ As he frantically touched the unscathed parts of Henry, trying to somehow reverse his mistake.

Henry grabbed his wrists gently, careful enough not to disturb his wounds through the layers of bandage.

‘Its okay,’ He laughed, ‘It’s okay! You were distracted.’

Darryl could do nothing but stare as Henry dropped his wrists. Looking up from his compromising position to Henry’s flushed face, smiling even after everything that had happened, watching the slight drag on one of Henry’s eyes without his glasses, he wasn’t sure how he could have possibly been this lucky.

One of Henry’s hands gently brushed a loose strand of hair off Darryl’s forehead.

‘This is what I saw, you know.’ Darryl said.

‘What?’

‘This past few seconds. That’s what I saw when the Seer showed me the future.’

Henry’s face turned slowly into a shocked grin before he burst out laughing.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah!’

‘No wonder you were so weird about it!’

‘I was weird about it? Do you think the others noticed?’

‘Nooooo, they probably believe you. I mean we are alive, in a fancy house, and covered in bandages.’

Darryl relaxed.

‘You know I have two Darryl-arm-shaped patches of skin between the burns.’

‘Oh, God.’ Darryl laughed ruefully as Henry dropped his forehead to rest against his.

‘Hey.’ Henry whispered. ‘Can I stay in here tonight?’

‘Are you sure?’ Darryl’s voice was slightly slurred by Henry running his thumb over his bottom lip.

‘I’m asking.’

‘Of course.’

With this, Henry kissed Darryl briefly one more time and crawled out of his lap onto the empty bed space beside him, where he lay on his front.

‘I’m just really tired.’

Darryl shuffled down until he was lying on his back.

‘Me too.’ He whispered. With everything that had happened, he would have done anything to hold Henry as they fell asleep, but with their injuries it was impossible. Instead he lay his hand, palm up, between them. Henry idly traced the creases with his finger, before folding his hand into Darryl’s. A gentle gust of wind through the room extinguished the candles.

Muffled by the pillows, Henry spoke up one last time.

‘You know, the others are going to figure out something happened.’

‘How?’

‘You told them I was in your bed in the vision. Now they know that we weren’t made to share they’ll know I must have sneaked in.’

‘Well, that sounds like their problem.’

Fin.

Authors note: This is not a songfic but the title is the name of a song which I chose for the lyrics

‘All I want is you to understand

That when I take your hand

It’s ‘cos I want to.

And we are all born in a world of doubt,

But there’s no doubt,

I figured out

I love you’

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #oakson #henry oak #darryl wilson #glenn close #ron stampler #paeden bennetts #fanfiction #my writing

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realactualfancontent · 5 years

Text

Highschool AU Master List of Terrible Ideas.

Okay, so I spend a lot of time thinking about the highschool AU, have some things in point form.

-Aster writes an advice column for the school newspaper, she has a rough idea of who her anonymous readers are, but isn’t 100 percent sure.

-Someone keeps asking her to pour things on his bod.

-She published the first one as a joke but it’s getting genuinely concerning at this point.

-She keeps publishing these requests with increasingly harsh no’s.

-She’s in way too many clubs

-Runs Dnd Club, would like to not be stuck Dming.

-She kind of let her grades slip after her parents died and has doubled down on getting them back up so she can go to a good school. Mean she’s in too many classes, has too many extra activities and is probably going to burn herself out spectacularly.

-Is currently paired with Griffin for a big chemistry project. He’s got the best grades in class, so she thought it would be a good idea.

-Except Griffin is an idiot who is busy pining over Fling after she broke up with him at summer camp and has started dating Kemp.

-He sent her some kind of weird note and he’s refusing to go to class now because they might make eye contact or something.

-Aster may be developing a crush but mostly she’s just exasperated, also she’s been identiying as Aro/Ace since she was fifteen so the whole crush thing is super out of left field and confusing.

-Fake dating in an effort to make Fling Jelly is defintiely going to happen, at some point.

-Skyler use to write for the school paper but got kicked off so he started his own, it’s dedicated to unveiling the truth about Real Acual High.

-Highlights are that time he accused Mr. Hotep of being mothman.

-He’s convinced the school is haunted.

-He’s also convinced Lucy is a vampire. (He’s right but don’t tell him.)

-Is also part of Dnd club. (He just seems like he’d play table top games.)

-Sends really weird letters to Aster’s column, thinks she can’t tell who it is, she can.

-Really wants to be an astrophyisist, but doesn’t have the grades.

-Professor Mason is trying to help. She’s also trying not to tear her hair out.

-I can not stress how much it is Professor Mason. And how much she will feed you to Brown Jenkin if you get it wrong.

-Feral Miss Frizzle Energy.

-Yes, she’s still a witch.

-Yes she still works for The Crawling Chaos.

-Literally nothing about her character changes she just teaches at a highschool now.

-Nyarlothotep takes many forms, all of them are sexy and all of them are substitute teachers.

-No one remembers what happens in his classes

-It was probably bad.

-Maybe good.

-What does Mr. Hotep even teach...English?

-Hangs out with Professor Mason a lot.

-They are planning something.

-Is intentionally screwing with Skyler and trying to convince him he’s mothman.

-Emmaline helps with Skyler’s underground Newspaper.

-Also plays Dnd,

-Chaotic Nuetral embodied.

-Has a really controlling dad so any fun shenangians are strictly behin his back.

-He’s so disspaointed in her.

-Goes Cryptid hunting at night with Skyler.

-Bought them matching Night vision goggles.

-Ready to join the cult Prof. Mason may or may not be starting.

-Rain is definitely going to be a lit major but right now she’s a weird art kid.

-Pining over Pickman.

-Also in Dnd club, keeps promising to run Ravenloft.

-She’s probably never going to run Ravenloft.

-Pickman already has multiple scholarships lined up for whatever art school he feels like going too.

-Isn’t paying to much attention to that.

-Or anyone. He’s just off in his own head. Doing art.

-Please talk to him about colour theory.

-Lotta energy.

-Always has paint stains.

-We hope they’re paint stains. Might be...Nah, probably paint. This is a fun highschool AU.

I have more, might call it here for the moment. If there are any specific Real actual’s you want to hear about. Let me know.

#Highschool AU #Bonus Content #Headcanons

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kurtisthesnivy · 5 years

Text

Here are some things I've done in DnD, in no particular order.

Without context of which character did what. I've had 7 characters. Miles (Elven Wizard), Chris (Human Bard), Kay (Kobold Fighter), Kas (Kobold Artificer), Kit (Kobold Ranger), Kip (Kobold Druid), and Star (Tabaxi Homebrew Astrologian)

Drunkenly knocked down a door, despite having -4 strength

Had upwards of 15 actions thanks to a buttload of summons

Was given a legendary quality weapon on the first day

Blew up the entire arctic circle

Obtained a stone that could store an infinite amount of spell slots. At the end of the game, it had ~24 level 9 spell slots

Became genderfluid because of a magical mishap

Tried to steal from a party member and got caught by the Command spell

Failed an easy stealth check, while the dragonborn in heavy armor next to me succeeded

Became a god

Did ~150 damage in one round with an Oathbow forged by the fire giant Surt

Almost killed myself with a Bag of Beans trying to not get eaten alive

Was possessed by Tiamat and attacked my party

Ignored my class's defining ability for the entire game

Accidentally released both the Phoenix and Leviathan, who then started fighting each other and ruined the world

Used a shadowfell forge's energy to power up a Plane Shift ring

Built a biotic rifle like Ana's from Overwatch

Did tarot readings on all party members, and they were all correct

Built a Pepperbox gun despite not being able to use it effectively

Used a Bag of Beans to avoid an entire boss fight

Used a Bag of Beans to create a pyramid with a mummy lord inside the limits of a city

Yeeted a boat at a group of enemies from my robe of useful items

Prolonged the final boss fight by casting Heal and Mass Heal

Kidnapped the big bad only for her to die and reveal the real big bad

Was single handedly the most important person in the final battle, since I could make ice platforms

Ignored one of my racial abilities for the entire game

Brewed a lifetime supply of basic healing potions in a single day

Learned every spell in the universe

Bought a bunch of throwing knives that I forgot about until the end of the game

Had a familiar that I forgot about until key moments of the game

Was given an always-hit gun that I never used in combat

Accidentally became the face of the party, and none of the NPCs took me seriously

Powered up an alien spacecraft with a rare power source, only for my teammate to immediately ruin the ship and waste the power source

Flashbanged an entire dark elf army

Got mind controlled not once, not twice but three different times

Became a dragon for about 30 seconds

Almost froze to death in the Arctic

Almost died in a hurricane

Robbed 3 different banks, stealing several hundred platinum that we never ended up using

Fought an Aboleth-Beholder hybrid

Casted Enlarge on an already 15 foot tall Warforged

Cast Disintegrate 7 times in a row to defeat an ally in a battle royale

Got 2 godly weapons to fight another god

Learned Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion and ruined the DM's night time encounters while simultaneously giving our army of over 100 a place to live

Spent 2 in game months in Ravenloft, and left by just kind of standing around

Used my powers as an illusion wizard exactly once in the whole game

Wrote a codex of ultimate power

Drank a mixed potion and have still not felt the effects

Had 10 +2 arrows that I never used

Got a set of mithril armor that I could use to cast Firestorm

Infiltrated what I thought was abandoned tower, but it was definitely not

#text #Dungeons and Dragons

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savevsfacemelt · 3 years

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Crowmurder essay #3 - Education

Alright, so we’ve talked about how I conceived and prepared for Crowmurder, and how that concept and preparation changed during play.

Did that work? Oh yeah, it was a great campaign, both for me and for the players. But that doesn’t mean everything went perfectly, and there are lessons to be learned from what fizzled or didn’t really click.

So refresh your memory about the game if you need to, and then come back for the last GMing essay in this trilogy of posts.

Failure! It’s how we learn!

When prep goes bad

I do a lot of prep for some games, barely any for others, depending on the system and the group’s style of play. I’ve done more and more for the last few campaigns, and if I’m being honest, much of that is just needing something to do during these interminable lockdown, something that feels creative even if it’s ultimately just brainstorming things that only matter to me, a light to briefly push back the dark emptiness threatening to hollow out everything around me.

...I digress.

I did a lot of prep for Crowmurder, and as mentioned, I ended up changing much of it during play. I’m 100% fine with that; a lot of that prep helped me get a strong enough grip on my ideas to be confident changing them on the fly. There were also sections of prep, such as a few NPCs, that never came into play, but that’s just how GMing works; you draw 10 rooms in your dungeon, even though the PCs will probably only visit five or six. What makes that work worthwhile is knowing that they could engage with that prep and enter those rooms.

What I realised, as the campaign ended, was that some aspects of my prep didn’t serve an actual function because there was no way they could come into play. A timeline of backstory events, the alien mindset of the daeva, a set of images about 19th century Mardi Gras in New Orleans... I pinned these (and more) concepts down before we started, but never came up with a way to work them into play, whether at the start or as we continued. These concepts were ultimately worse than wasted efforts, because I had to do additional mental labour to move beyond them to create content I could actually use at the table.

The lesson here is not to do less prep - do whatever amount works for you and that you find useful. Instead, it’s to make sure that that prep can actually be used in play (probably by also prepping avenues for introducing it) rather than just sitting in your notes folder and getting in your way.

Respecting ransacking your sources

Adapting other material is a time-honoured tradition in gaming; everyone rips off bits of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, after all, and I’m a big believer in reskinning Shakespeare for your own ends. Adapting/reimagining one game’s adventure into a different setting/system isn’t as common, but it’s certainly not unknown. But as with all adaptations, you need to know what to lift and what to leave behind, and I slipped up a couple of times with my Ravenloft homage.

Of all the RL references in the campaign, the weakest was the Tarot reading scene. This was a homage to Madame Eva’s card reading, which is a cornerstone of the original module. Here it didn’t serve anywhere near as strong a purpose, it slowed the session down and made it less interesting, and it felt out of place given that the NPC giving it was the head of a drug cartel rather than an ethnic-stereotype fortune-teller. Another iffy inclusion was the zombie fight at the church. This was a hugely fun scene, don’t get me wrong, but as the game progressed it felt increasingly out of place to me, setting up expectations about the game’s feel and tone that didn’t properly pay off.

On the other hand, I wish I hadn’t just handwaved away all of the dungeon-crawl aspects of Ravenloft. The final sessions in the Plantation House felt a bit underwhelming to me, too prosaic and too easy for the big finish. It might have been more fun if I’d populated the House with a few weird dungeon rooms, maybe with shadowy psychodramas and oddball monsters for the PCs to overcome. After all, the one RL castle monster I did keep - the ‘Meld Monster’, which became the grotesque Rougarou - became a really compelling part of the game.

The lesson here is kind of like the last one - it’s to think about how concepts, especially those drawn from another source, might work and feel in play rather than in a vacuum. Will the tone of this idea match that of other game elements? Will it be cumbersome to unpack for the players? Will its effect be the same as it was in the source material, or pull the game in a different direction? The question of how will this work is at least as important as is this cool.

Too many moving parts

From conceptual issues, let’s move onto mechanical ones, such as the level of cognitive load I felt in busy scenes, specifically fight scenes with multiple opponents.

MoTW doesn’t require much detail for NPCs - harm taken/given for minor enemies, a couple of moves for major ones - but it’s tracked separately for each one, and the numbers are granular enough that handwaving them felt unsatisfying. Add to that the various abilities that players/PCs can bring to bear, and the amount of mental effort I had to apply to fight scenes became problematic - especially in an online environment.

The first group fight scene, with zombies and gators and snakes, wasn’t so bad, although I was losing energy by the end of it. The second involved four bikers, four cultists, an undead wizard and a shadow monster, spread across multiple locations, and by the 2/3 mark of the session I was exhausted and couldn’t keep proper track of what was happening. From that point I only ran combats with 1-2 opponents, which made them more manageable but also less interesting.

There were other issues with cognitive load, mostly due to the complexities of managing four players, with four sets of mechanical/narrative abilities and agendas, in sessions run over Zoom where I couldn’t use most of my in-person social and management skills.

The lesson here is that running a game is... not hard or special, sure, but it’s demanding in ways that aren’t always obvious. You need to be aware of the mental overheads of both your game system and your play platform, and not develop session plans that push too hard against those parameters.

Adapting for short sessions

Speaking of which, I think we’ve all learned by now that online play demands more energy and focus than face-to-face play, although I still struggle to explain why that’s the case. A two-hour Zoom session on a school night can be more challenging than playing for 4-5-6 hours in person - and part of that is working out how to adjust pace, and GMing, and mechanics, and so on. You have to deliver more story beats in a shorter period of time, make sure fights are fast and don’t flow into another session, compress and/or extend scenes to make sure they fill up the right volume... stuff like that.

And in some cases, you need to check mechanics, which I didn’t do. Like most PtBA games, Monster of the Week has start-of-session/end-of-session moves and rules, and I didn’t examine these enough when we started play. Specifically, I didn’t consider that the end-of-session hand-out-experience rules would trigger about twice as often as expected, meaning that the characters quickly became more effective and powerful than I had planned. The final sessions thus lacked tension because the players knew they had enough safety nets and Luck points to be challenged by what I brought to bear. (I compensated by drilling down on emotional beats for the ending, but it was still a little weak.)

The lesson? Session length can have both narrative and mechanical impact on your game, in ways that aren’t obvious, so think about that before you start play and adjust accordingly. That’s a basic tip, but one that affects pretty much all of us while we’re stuck with shorter, online, socially distanced play.

I did this to myself

There are fewer pop songs with ‘Boys’ in the title than you might think, and finding an appropriate one for each session’s writeup was a pain in the hole.

Okay, I think that’s everything.

I hope folks found this series interesting and/or useful! I don’t think I’m going to do anything this in-depth in the future, or any session-by-session writeups. The era of long-form RPG writing is coming to a close, and shorter, simpler summaries and articles at the end of a campaign seems like the way to go from here.

Well, like they say - if you gotta go, go with a smile.

#Crowmurder #Monster of the Week #ravenloft

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crookshanks23 · 1 year

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Season 1, Episode 27: Advanced Dungeons and Dragons

Favorite moment: "Can I put the mustache on?" I love Mr. Mustache. Such a great energy to bounce off of Ron.

General thoughts:

So, this is an episode I haven't listened to a bunch. Not sure why, but this was a great reminder of some things and funnier than I remembered. Lots of laugh out loud moments.

Not a huge fan of the intro on this one, but it does hit home this aspect of Glenn's character. For as chill as he is, I forget that he's a conspiracy dude.

Darryl's deep Patrick Warburton voice is great. And the origin of the "Tax Day" euphemism. Wild dad facts again overall this episode.

I had completely forgotten that they brought up the shield again (which I mentioned in my post on the previous episode). Good thinking on their part to ask Erin. What a crazy item. I love that someone took the time to make an item that wouldn't be helpful to them. They could use it to hurt someone else, but I don't think the shield comes back after this.

And Vince is back! Their relationship is hilarious. And Doctor Not Me? That came up earlier than I remembered. This whole conversation with Erin is great. I love early Erin-Darryl heat.

It's interesting with the whole, "I can't tell you about the kind of magic because if you know it makes them more powerful." I don't know if this really comes to fruition? It's hard to tell because of the way the reveal happens in the next episode of who the purple robes are. Would they have been less powerful if they hadn't revealed who they were? I guess we'll never know. Just another piece of Daddy Magic that I don't quite get.

Then, a good chunk of the episode devolves into a discussion about what they're going to do with the mercenaries and what plan they're going to use to get into Ravenloft. This is most of what I remember of the episode, but I had forgotten how bat-shit crazy (and cool) some of these plans were. Also, Freddie's use of the electronics from Fry's was great. There are a lot of "now what, Anthony?" turns in this episode, which makes the last 20-30 minutes of this hilarious.

This whole plan and reveal with Scam is just wonderful.

Some highlights from the end:

The reveal and addition of Mr. Mustache.

"This was supposed to be the big climax. I had so many dreams..." Anthony says as Beth and Will debate whether Clifford the Big, Red Dog is a Kaiju and promote their Twitter accounts. Man, I had forgotten how funny this episode is.

"Hey Anthony, can you say your rolls more into the microphone?"

Poor Scam Likely. It was a really clever plan.

Next time - one of my favorite reveals in the whole fucking show.

#dungeons and daddies #dndads #dndads spoilers #s1ep27 #advanced dungeons and dragons #Anthony takes a beating in this one #Lots of reversals on the DM #which are fun to listen to #and he knows it #way to play it up for us #love whenever they make him have a conversation between two NPCs

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xmoriartea · 2 years

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— Curse of Strahd: Barovian Currents

Now you may be wondering, how did we get here. Well, reading the last couple of these archives, I think that’s pretty clear. But the consequences part... ho boy. We can thank the DLC for that, but I’ll get there in a minute.

The morning after taking Strahd's hand off in a fight HE started, we knew things were going to be Not Great. We gave Ismark and Ireena some warning the night before and decided to take it as we could.

Tanner, ever the thoughtful artificer who just refuses to sleep, decided to craft a fancy gauntlet, using all number of stones and gems we’d collected to offer as a gift for Strahd. A way to make amends. “Sorry for taking the hand, but don’t touch what’s not yours.” A friendly gesture that he didn’t at all work some sort of cold mold bomb into. Not at all. Just an ordinary gift.

I sent a very casual Sending to Escher about wanting to borrow some poetry in hopes of Vibe Checking the Brides. He was a little distracted, but otherwise had Big Dumb Poet energy and we figured Strahd hadn't told them yet.

See. No fault. Escher wasn’t threatening me for behanding his beloved, so its finneee.

Tanner went off to join Ismark, Urwin, Wachter, and Kalina for a council meeting and spent the lunch debating where they should try to build a school. Deciding the recently burned down prison would be best rebuilt, they also agreed a temp house in Vallaki could be reclaimed

The gals, meanwhile, did some shopping times. Arabelle got ready for a cute date with Rowan the fire genasi baker we adopted and Alkali made Choices regarding spending her money on gifts for the future Widows of Strahd

Look I was personally keeping the town jewelsmith in business between emergency diamonds, custom mirrors, and wanting to give my beloveds lovely aquatic themed gifts made of silver and amber.

An octopus pendant for Ludmilla on a long chain where the body of the octopus was amber with a little amber skull in its tentacles

Tentacle ear cuffs for Volenta with an amber skull at the earring position

A tentacle choker with an amber skull grasped at the throat for Anastrasya

And for the poet, tentacled ring with little amber bits embedded and a little bit of celestial inscribed on the inner band: “Sever” referencing a poem she’d found and hoped he would take to heart when the time came

Totally normal moves to make in Barovia, I’m sure.

Tanner and Kalina rejoined us at the Inn and told us about the house they wanted to use as a temporary school. Family disappeared mysteriously, so like, obviously haunted. We told Arabelle to enjoy her date, and the rest of us went to explore the house

Tanner ofc pissed off the ghost we found in there and Alkali got her Big Grave Keeper Boots on to tell the ghost to cooperate with them and chat. It did, mostly, but then it got weird and disappeared into the ceiling. As we followed, it got wildly cold in the house. The ghost had mentioned a pact with Levictus and we were preparing for Something to still be here

We were not prepared to run into Lexx, the vampire courier we threatened after she stalked Arabelle the day prior / the vampire courier Tanner paid to DELIVER A PROSTHETIC HAND TO STRAHD

She also did not expect us. Apparently she'd been living in the abandoned house and hadn't noticed anything weird, keeping to her attic room. She scampered out the window to Ravenloft before we could really ask more, and we turned our attention to the Very Cold room down the hall

The ghost decided to do some Shit and when it started making weird summoning circles in ghost energy, we tried to Turn it - but no good it summoned an ice devil and we popped off

All things said, things could have gone better. We did put the devil out of commission for several rounds, but the ghost was an Asshole. It Finger of Death'd Tanner, but he's a tanky lad and withstood it.

Then it decided to possess Alkali which, OOC, prompted me to remind the DM all the ways I could fuck up my own party

IM HELPFUL

(LOOK. I have a brand. I am nothing if not consistent.)

But Mina Turned the boi and we took him out before focusing on the Devil. Kalina, who we've suspected of being angel blood, popped her wings for the first time ever in a fight, surprising herself and the devil who was Very Close to killing her Many Times. But we won, easy. Mostly.

We almost super died like five times and that would have been rough for Arabelle to figure out when she came back from Date Night, but we did it

[Heroic Trumpets Here]

Success enough to go back to the inn, celebrate, and possibly scar the two Wachter boys for life because... look even then I wasn’t sure why, but Tanner was up to something Tanner-like and again. No consequences.

Not for us anyway.

Until there are.

See, we were going to Divine Kalina's lineage, but alas, didn't have that spell. BUT. I had scrying. And it was night time, we were settling in. Now I could do what I had wanted to do since I woke up— I scry'd on Strahd

And look. I wanted him to be angry. I wanted him to be tearing apart his study, furious that he was not as untouchable as he believed.

But he was quiet, angrily working on something, while discussing plans with Rahadin. His study was filled with boxes, some weapons...some dirt

Rahadin said something about being ready to move in the morning, Strahd told him to see to it, and then Rahadin left. And Strahd stood. And walked towards a curtain in his room. And pulled it back. There was a barred tank...with a trapped Lake Zarovich merfolk inside

We have spent so much time in the lake. We rescued a merfae prince from an abolith. We rescued a village of merfolk enslaved by merrow and sahuagin. These are OUR FRIENDS

And Alkali had to watch as Strahd charmed and fed off of one of them with the horrible realization that this was not the first

APPARENTLY. Strahd took it as a personal offense that there were merfolk in the lake that he wasn’t actively making suffer. So after everything we went through, destroying aboleths, sahuagins, and merrow liches, Strahd decided to go for a fucking swim for the first time in 400 years and see what was down there for himself. And he and Rahadin took up fishing.

SUDDENLY. CONSEQUENCES. and Alkali and I were FURIOUS.

Panicking, she recounted this to the others, pulled her nails from the dents in the table she'd made, and started firing off sendings. First to Merrick, the fae prince, and then to Araxia, the elemental elder of the mer village. She told both of them that vampires were threatening the lake, that no one could leave or enter the sanctuaries anymore. Araxia readily agreed, but something was off with Merrick...

Mina sent to Nadia and Taron, our favorite twin merfolk with more fighting spirit than anyone else in the lake. Taron told them Merrick was lying— Nadia was missing and they hadn't found her yet. And Nadia didn't reply.

While Tanner and Mina ran to go get Arabelle from her date and warn Ismark about the lake and Strahd's fury, Alkali wrote a letter to her own twin. She prayed Umberlee would carry the letter to him, and apologized that if he didn't hear from her again, she was lost to the mists. She gave it to Denika, the innkeep, and asked her to send it when one day Alkali didn’t return.

Moving upstairs, Alkali scry'd again, this time on Rahadin. Unlike Strahd, he doesn't have a -21 penalty to her saves, but she got eyes on him regardless. Plans involving carriages, horses, and potentially a boat and crane, were related to an accountant to see they were done.

She watched him apologize to Volenta that Strahd was still busy, but never saying busy with what, and saw him retire to his own study where more merfolk were trapped in tanks. Muttering about wishing to drain the whole lake, he got to work at his desk as the vision faded.

Trying to decide what to do, they Communed with Umberlee. Vallaki was in immediate danger due to these actions, so an idea was formed...

Forbiddance. A spell that costs 1000gp in rubies — rubies like the 10k gp necklace Strahd had gifted Arabelle on her birthday.

So Kalina got to foreshadow-tool-gem crushing and we decided the last available scry was going to be grim, but we needed answers. I scry'd on Nadia.

I expected Ravenloft, a tank, a box— something she didn't deserve simply for being our friend. Instead, she was in the lake, swimming along the bed of it. She spoke with another mer, about finding someone lost and scared and helping them.

And for a minute, Alkali and I both wanted to hope. She swam into a little house, no resistance, and we thought maybe there was still time. Arabelle tried to warn her as I watched and she tilted her head once at the sending...before smiling again at the scared mer in the house.

And then he went still when he looked in her eyes, and Alkali broke the vision as she went for his throat.

And now the little aquatic safe haven we were trying to build for these merfolk suddenly looked like this:

But sending to Taron that he couldn't trust his twin because she was dead was...not a conversation anyone wanted to have. But he had to know. He had to know his sibling was gone.

Which is why, even after all of this, before bed...Alkali and Mina had a talk.

Remember when I said Mina and Alkali "met" when Mina stole a relic from one of the sunken ships Alkali's family guarded and that’s how they ended up in Barovia, Alkali hunting Mina down to get that relic back.

At the ball, Alkali found out there was another reason Mina had been the cleric to go after the relic. The ship it was in was the last known location of her brother 20 years ago. It was the first ship Alkali watched sink...with all of its crew, even a sea elf.

If they were getting ready for a showdown that could very well, at any point, be their last... Alkali needed Mina to know the truth, so they stepped outside and Alkali prepared herself to get absolutely fucking punched because she could only imagine the kind of grief that burned with rage.

She gave her the compass. She expected to be hit, to be screamed at, any of the rage she'd feel for losing her twin. But Mina just fell into wails of grief and the hits were weak, broken things.

Alkali held her and let her grieve how she needed to. Next door, Tanner wisely reminded everyone to ... Not mentioning the wailing, and just pretend they hadn't heard it. Eventually, the clerics rejoined the others and wards and alarms were set for the coming night.

But Mina and Alkali stayed close together, the smol triton protecting the tol sea elf as they both tried to sleep.

Because that night? It sucked.

But morning was going to be worse.

#dnd #curse of strahd #barovian currents #oh the difference 12 hours makes

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doycetopia · 5 years

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Ravenloft Ironsworn, part 6, Gooooo-ing to the Chapel and We’re… Goooonnnna get Buried…

Okay, we’re heading to the northwest part of the village, E5 and E6, the church and cemetery. Sounds peaceful.

Now, not to be too much of a gamer about it, but the thing is, I’m pretty sure the only way to get XP in the game is to make and complete Vows. “Free all of Barovia from Strahd” is epic and all, but it’s not going to be meat on the table any time soon, if ever. I need to keep doing small things – side quests, if you like.

So: a troublesome vow to bury the Burgomaster. On the one hand “har har, you have to carry him allll the way across town, what a big tough adventurer you are”, but on the other, the job is exactly as tough as I choose to make it – I can elide through pretty much everything else that happens in town and just get to the road up to the castle in about a paragraph, but I don’t learn or gain anything from that, so why not have some fun with this stuff?

Anyway, I swear the vow:

Which is good. My goal is clear. No complications like “we can’t bury him here – it’s not hallowed ground anymore!” or whatever. And hey: +2 momentum brings me to the max of 10, so wooot.

I see myself and Ismark walking slowly up the street toward the church, at either end of a bier. Ireena flanks us, pensive but resolved.

Since this is actually attached to a vow, I need to make some kind of progress here, and that means challenges. The first thing I imagine is the possibility of more interference from the village – either more superstitious, angry villagers (they wouldn’t help bury their Burgomaster in the first place, maybe they don’t want to see him buried at all, for fear it will make Strahd angry), maybe some vistani, or even something worse. We’ll see.

To reflect that, I’ll Face Danger (Ironsworn’s catch-all move for “I’m doing something generally risky for which there isn’t a better move) using Heart (loyalty, courage) as we carry the dead man through town in front of pretty much everyone.

I’m feeling pretty good about this – the challenge was strong, but I overcame. (I’ve been pondering moving Brigitte’s stats to the “challenging” stat array (4,3,3,2,2), as some folks have suggested, but so far this session the dice are making me feel silly for worrying about it.

I mark three boxes on the vow, but other than that, benefits to me are kind of slim, since I could get 1 more momentum, but I’m maxed out.

Atop a slight rise stands a gray, sagging edifice of stone and wood. This church has weathered the assaults of evil for centuries on end and is worn and weary. The bell tower hangs to one side, its strident call long silenced. Flickering light shines through holes burned through the roof shingles. The rafters strain to maintain their burden.

The church interior is a shambles, with overturned and broken benches littering the floor. At a claw-scarred altar toward the far end is the priest.

Donavich has apparently been praying and chanting throughout the night for weeks. He spends each night, every night, warding off evil from his church, and has fallen asleep against the altar.

So I need some information from this guy on several topics. I’m going to Gather Information (+1 for the community Bond) and play from there:

Oy. Okay, my dice are mayyyybe saying I should change my stat array. Whatever. I don’t want to snag the story at this point on this guy, so I’m going to burn my momentum to get a strong hit instead of a miss.

This works for me, since I imagine him not being too enthused about our plans – it takes a lot of energy to convince him to help us out at all and, thus, be involved. Cool.

When woken, introductions made (his voice is hoarse and weak), our intentions explained, and our will convincingly conveyed (until he finally stops trying to talk us out of “this madness”) he shares the following…

There is a book in Castle Ravenloft’s library (“At least it was held there at one time…”) that might help destroy the devil Strand. It is well known from ancient times that Strahd kept meticulous notes on all that he did or said. “Perhaps some weakness of his may be found there.”

The burgomaster’s holy symbol? Well, he certainly doesn’t have it, but he was shown it a number of times – a golden disk with a stylized Sun design. “An ancient thing, from distant lands – no one even knows how it came to be this far north.”

It’s possible the book of history he mentioned will explain such things – he seems a bit fixated on the idea of the thing.

Probably the thing he’s least enthused about, except for the “storm the monster’s castle” thing, is burying the Burgomaster while night is coming on. I’m going to try a fairly gentle compel, with Heart…

“The moon is rising soon!” he says.

“I’ve never minded the moon,” I reply.

He eyes the door leading to the churchyard, shaking his head fretfully, his hands trembling.

I lay a hand on his shoulder, relenting. “Don’t trouble yourself about this, Brother Donavich,” I murmur. “I know the words to say, well enough, and I’m sure Ireena and Ismark know the way to the family plot. Have you proper tools for the task? I’ve only a camp shovel…”

Maybe it’s the idea I’m letting him shirk his duty to the village. Maybe it’s asking for the tools. Maybe it’s just the pity in my eyes, but the firmness comes back into his eyes and jaw. “No. I mean, yes, they’re in the caretaker’s shed, but no… I’ll come with you. Let me get my things. Let it be done correctly and well and bravely, for a brave man.”

I’m going calling that another milestone on a troublesome vow.

Finally, and quite simply, I’m going to Face Danger (with “strength and endurance, so +iron) while digging the grave and putting the Burgomaster to rest. The day is passing, the moon is rising, and Things Might Happen, so let’s see how it goes.

Okay, a weak hit, “Face a troublesome cost.” Choose one.

You are delayed, lose advantage, or face a new danger: Suffer -1 momentum.

You are tired or hurt: Endure Harm (1 harm).

You are dispirited or afraid: Endure Stress (1 stress).

You sacrifice resources: Suffer -1 supply.

Fine. I’m going to go with Enduring Stress (-1). My following Endure Stress roll is another weak hit, which effectively does nothing. I “soldier on.” Here’s what happened to cause the stress:

As we conclude the burial ceremony, I see something terrible and unexpected. The moon has risen, and its light catches faint outlines of people — an assemblage fading in and out of view at the gates of the graveyard. They seem to be… Waiting. Either calmly, or resigned.

Donavich sees the direction of my stare, though he does not look himself. “They do this every night,” murmurs the priest. “Almost a hundred souls. They assemble, then, at midnight, walk the road that leads to the castle.”

“That is terrible,” I mumble.

But what is more terrible – I recognize one of them.

original post

#Actual Play #ironsworn #pbta #ravenloft #randomaverage

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brain-leakage-blog · 6 years

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Running Castlevania with Old School D&D, Part 6

For part one of this series, click here. For part two, click here. For part three, click here. For part four, click here. And for part five, click here.

To close this little experiment out, I'm going to end right where the games do: with Dracula. Now, statting out the big boss for a Castlevania game could be easy. After all, he's a vampire, right? Why not just use the same Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game template I did for Carmilla?

Well, that gets back to what I said in my last post, about Ravenloft and Castlevania being two properties with different feels to them. Case in point: Strahd Von Zarovich is probably my favorite D&D villain of all time. He's devilishly smart. He's an accomplished wizard, who uses both magic and his environment to his advantage. But he's basically just a standard vampire, with a few tweaks to his power level. A canny-enough group of PCs could conceivably surprise him in his coffin, drive a stake through his heart, and end the problem. It's not likely, mind you, but it's possible.

Dracula from the Castlevania series, however, is another matter entirely. The climax is always a pitched battle, with Dracula taking on multiple forms. His human facade melts away, revealing a hideous, demonic nature. Only by defeating his final form (however many he goes through), do our heroes save the day.

And sure, part of that is because it's a platformer game, and platformers always end with a big boss fight. But I also think it's an essential part of the franchise. Simply put, if you're running a Castlevania-themed game, the only way to make it "feel" like Castlevania is to end it with an epic, shapeshifting, "now-face-my-TRUE-power"-style boss fight.

To that end, the first thing to realize is that Castlevania Dracula isn't really a vampire. Not in the Bela Lugosi/pop-culture/European folklore sense. Castlevania Dracula is really a maō, or Japanese Demon Lord.

Don't just take it from me. The Japanese title of the first game is Akumajou Dracula, or "Demon Castle Dracula." The akuma is an evil fire-spirit in traditional Japanese folklore, and when Christianity came to Japan in 1549, Akuma was the name applied to Satan. Language drift being what it is, "akuma" was sometimes shortened to "ma," meaning devil or demon, and maō is "demon ruler" or "demon king."

This article on Legends of Localization goes into more detail, but for our purposes it's enough to know that Dracula is much more than a vampire.

With this in mind, I decided to stat out three of Dracula's forms separately. I did use a modified vampire for the first one, since it seemed appropriate. For the second, I leaned heavily on the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game Infernal races (specifically the Malebranche and the Vrock).

The last one—based on the cluster of floating heads from Castlevania III—is a modification of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game Giant Flying Brain.

But enough talk! HAVE AT YOU!

Vlad Dracula Tepes (First Form)

Alignment: Chaotic

Armor Class: 21

Hit Dice: 12 (attack bonus +12)

No. of Attacks: 1 or magic

Damage: 1d10, or magic

Movement: 40' or 60' (fly)

No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)

Save as: Lvl 12 Fighter

Morale: 11

Treasure Type: Special

XP: 2,175

In his first form, Dracula appears to be an abnormally large vampire. He resembles an 8' tall human male, with pale skin, dark hair, and flaming red eyes. His canine teeth are sharp, and his features are vaguely lupine.

Like mundane vampires, in this form Dracula casts no shadow and no reflection. Unlike common vampires, he is perfectly capable of crossing running water and entering another's home without invitation. Additionally, mirrors and garlic have no effect. He may pretend to have these weaknesses at first, in order to lure his enemies into false confidence.

A cross presented with conviction will keep him at bay, provided the wielder is at least level 3 (for more information on this weakness, see the Vampire, p. 124 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game). He may also be turned, but the Cleric attempting to do so faces a -5 penalty.

Dracula is immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. He does not use weapons, preferring to use spells in combat. If forced to fight physically, he slashes at his enemies with his claws for 1d10 damage.

Dracula is not known to bite in combat. However, his bite inflicts 1d3 damage, and drains two level of energy for each round he continues to feed. While feeding, he suffers a -5 Armor Class penalty. Victims reduced to 0 hit points by in this manner die, and they will rise again as vampires during the next sunset. These new vampires are permanently under Dracula's control, and always act as if under a Charm spell.

Dracula has access to many magic spells. One of his preferred methods of attack is to cast Teleport (which he can do at will) to take an advantageous position behind his enemies, and then attack from a distance with Hellfire. For purposes of spell duration and saves, Dracula's Caster Level is 20.

Dracula can command common nocturnal creatures. Twice per day, he can summon 10d12 rats, 5d6 giant rats, 10d12 bats, 3d8 giant bats, or 3d8 wolves. The creatures must be nearby to be summoned. Once called, they arrive in 2d6 rounds and obey his commands for 2 hours.

At will, Dracula can transform into a swarm of 4d4 giant bats. The bats are identical to those detailed on p. 58 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game. Dracula often uses this ability to flee the area when surprised or overmatched. As long as even one of these bats survives, he is capable of returning to his first form, retaining the same number of Hit Points he had before transforming.

Dracula also has the common vampire's Charm gaze, which his victims must save vs Spell to resist. Victims save at -4.

Dracula cannot be harmed by non-magical weapons. Reducing him to 0 Hit Points or exposing him to direct sunlight for more than 5 rounds only destroys his first form, causing him to assume the next one.

Hellfire

1st Level Spell

Duration: Instant

Range: 100' + 10'/Level

This spell causes a small ball of fire to shoot forth and strike a target of the caster's choosing, causing 1d6+1 damage. The target must be at least partially visible to the caster. For every three caster levels after 1st, an additional fireball is generated: two at 4th level, three at 7th, four at 10th, and the maximum number of five at 13th level and above.

Vlad Dracula Tepes (Second Form)

Alignment: Chaotic

Armor Class: 24

Hit Dice: 14 (attack bonus +12)

No. of Attacks: 1 or Special

Damage: 1d10 or Special

Movement: 30' or 15' (fly)

No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)

Save as: Lvl 14 Fighter

Morale: 11

Treasure Type: Special

XP: 2,730

In his second form, Dracula resembles a huge, ugly, gargoyle-like creature. Membraneous wings connect his arms to his torso. Ram-like horns extend from the sides of his head.

Dracula is incapable of true "flight" in his gargoyle form, as his wings cannot support his massive body. However, he can use them to leap vertical and horizontal distances of over 15 feet. He uses this ability in combat, leaping at his enemy and slashing for 1d10 damage with his feet.

He is also capable of breathing modified Fireballs at will. Dracula's fireballs are treated as if generated by a fifth level caster, causing 5d6 damage, and having a range of 150 feet. Rather than saving vs. Spell for half damage, his targets are allowed a save vs. Breath Weapon to avoid damage altogether.

While in this form, Dracula can only be harmed by magical weapons and spells cast by a character of 3rd Level or higher. He is completely immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. Additionally, as he is no longer assuming the shape of an undead creature, he cannot be turned. Reducing Dracula's Second Form to 0 Hit Points does not kill him. It only causes him to assume his Third and final form.

Vlad Dracula Tepes (Third Form)

Alignment: Chaotic

Armor Class: 14

Hit Dice: 24 (attack bonus +1)

No. of Attacks: Magic or Special

Damage: Special

Movement: 30' or 15' (fly)

No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)

Save as: Lvl 14 Magic User

Morale: 11

Treasure Type: Special

XP: 8,850

In his Third and final form, Dracula appears as a massive cluster of 4d4 giant heads. The heads float 5-15 feet in the air, continuously pulsating and moaning. Upon first seeing this form, all creatures must save vs Spell or be paralyzed for 2d8 turns, as if targeted by a Hold Person spell.

In this form Dracula can cast spells as a 14th level magic user, although for purposes of damage, spell duration, and saves, his Caster Level is treated as 20.

Additionally, each of the heads in the cluster drips a corrosive acid from its mouth. The acid causes 2d8 points of damage. Those hit by the acid drops must make a save vs. Breath Weapon. If unsuccessful, the acid dissolves 1d4 random unenchanted object on the target's person, rendering them useless.

When Dracula's Third Form is reduced to 0 Hit Points, he is not killed. His spirit is either returned to the primordial chaos beyond the world, or it is absorbed by the walls of Castlevania itself. Dracula will Reincarnate into his First Form in exactly 100 years, unless outsiders attempt to revive him early.

#brain leakage blog #homebrew #Castlevania #ravenloft #dungeons and dragons #d&d #dnd #lamentations of the flame princess #basic fantasy roleplaying game #OSR #dracula #gothic #horror

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riddles-of-the-unknown · 7 years

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* Notes: So They’re Eating People.

We head to Julian’s home.

o Just basically a room.

Howling.

o Coming closer.

o We are invisible.

Saint is fucking with Ren~

Julian returns.

o Clutching a dagger.

Cardone

o Only one who can probably help.

o Or try,

o Did shitty things to

o Tell him that his heard is being thinned.

o Signs for her to follow.

Julian

o Says that Ironfur passed.

o He seemed to be going.. fairly quick.

Cardone

o 2 days east.

Jone

o Woman who was hunted.

Stream nearby.

Weight lifted

o Necromancy

o Green wispy energy floating up

o Left when we crossed the river.

Seemed like it was tracking us, according to Lafi.

We moved further down the river.

Werewolves

o Lycanthropy – curse, seemed to originate from somewhere else.

o Can only be passed to human-like beings.

o Can only pass along willingly.

o Not something passed by accident necessarily.

o Known to have an aversion to silver weapons.

o Very resilient to traditional, non-silvered weaponry

o Nothing about a hunger

o Footnote: There has been a storied conflict between them and the vampires of Ravenloft. Seems to have stemmed from hunting rights.

o Been a history of werewolves of oppressed by the vampires of Ravenloft because they are greedy predators.

Ren is turning into a werewolf

Apparently also knows how farts taste.

Eventually break out of the forest.

o Off to either side is dead foliage.

o No magic.

We see a village.

Abandoned, recently.

Big green clouds near the ground, over the houses, remnants of death spells.

o Wiped people out quickly, quickly risen after.

They’re all heading East.

Told Jone to go to other villages

Jone hasn’t met Cardone

o Only their nobles

o Treat them like cattle.

o Owned for a purpose.

o Actually found one of them attractive.

Another village

o No death spells

o Michaelson’s homestead.

o Jone knows them.

o (cellar, someone tried to hide, looks like they were dragged off.)

Finllay says it smells like blood.

Points of green energy

o A hand came out and grabbed my ankle, and when I moved the hand came off.

o I kept it (the hand)

o There was just an arm in the ground.

o Not attached.

River nearby.

We cross it.

Large, looming structure.

o Half a day, 8-10 miles

There is the lich with a large number of undead.

o Abominations

o Oozing things

Castle is 2 hours away.

Lich

o Floats away from us and lands towards some bat-like humanoids.

o Looks like what Finnlay was.

o They join, but don’t mingle.

Apparently casting spells draws attention.

Rain is obscuring visibility.

Becomes a storm.

Big bridge over to a castle.

o Giant stone winged creatures.

o Floating robed figures

Raising creatures.

o Wraiths perhaps?

Nothing’s going to be keeping us out or in, but we are being watched.

o Deathly cold when we cross the bridge.

Fortress

o Made to withstand a siege.

o Stands vigil over something unseen.

o Once we pass through, there are giant skeletons being raised by very pale people.

o Muscle seems to form like armor over them.

Very pale, finely dressed man with a cane.

o Doesn’t seem to need it.

o Has fangs, very likely a vampire.

o Early 20s.

Noticed we have

Raised platforms, 5 feet off the ground with alters in the center.

o People laying down on some.

o Some of the people getting up are very pale.

Vathen and Finnlay vanished.

o Vathen is on my shoulder at least…

He reappears when we enter the room.

The room is very fancy.

There is a book.

o It’s big. And binded with steel.

o Apparently just a book of lineage

Cardone

o We speak to him about the people.

o Know where they were (thanks to us)

o Don’t have problems retrieving them… normally.

o Currently, amassing forces to deal with the lich.

We mention the lich.

Is that what he’s calling himself?

o Poor imitation of a lich.

o Mention that the lich wants dominion over this place.

Seem to be concerned or smart.

I ask about how the Baron went quiet recently.

‘The ferals did seem to buck more than usual.’

I mention that the lich had some of the ferals under his control.

Now Cardone seems to be concerned.

Without the Baron, they’re all going to turn into the Ferals.

o So after hearing the lich had them under their sway… that worried them.

We’re heading to find the Baron.

o Ask if he would give the command to deal with the lich.

o Also see if he’s.. alright. Given he hadn’t been heard from for a couple weeks.

§ Conveniently when the lich arrived.

The castle we were in seemed to be guarding Straud’s abode.

o It appeared behind when before there was nothing.

#Book of Being #Notes #so they're eating people.#I just.#WELP.

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doycetopia · 5 years

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Ravenloft Ironsworn, part 2 - the Maiden and the Corpse

In the last ‘session’, Brigitte set out toward Barovia by way of the Old Svalich Road, made it to the gates of Barovia and (thanks to our second journey roll) found out things were going to take a bad turn.

BUT FIRST, I need a bit of information for an NPC we’re about to meet. I hit a few of the Ironsworn oracles for a name and description and get “Mira, wild and sick.” Horrible. Perfect.

THE MAIDEN

Brigitte is probably half an hour to an hour past the gate of Barovia when she spots someone on the road ahead. A woman. Tangled black hair. A white shift utterly insufficient for the damp and cold. Barefoot, Brigitte notices, as the woman shuffles toward her down the road. Pale, almost gray skin.

A hatchet in her hand.

Hmm.

Brigitte slips her shield from ‘easy carry’ to ‘ready’, and calls out “Hello, sister. Are you lost? Can I help you?”

The woman continues to shuffle forward. Her face is shrouded by her wild hair. Tension tightens the muscles of Brig’s shoulders, but she makes no move.

The woman – young, we think – stops a half-dozen paces short of Brigitte. Silence in the forest.

Then the axe hand swings up, level, the axe pointed at – or extended to – the farwarden.

“End my suffering.” The woman’s voice is dry, cracking. Makes you thirsty just to hear it. She finally lifts her head enough to see her face, and it’s gaunt and gray and her teeth are… wrong.

Brigitte tenses. Her eyes widen slightly, search the woman’s face. “What are… what happened to you?”

Okay, so the information complicates the quest but I get +1 momentum. Yeah, that tracks.

“My name…” the girl breathes, almost sighs. “Mira.” Her voice is wistful, as if she’s saying the name of a childhood friend she’d almost forgotten and misses deeply.

Her eyes, cold and hard and black despite the tone of her voice, focus back on Brigitte. “Creatures – dark things – came to my family’s home. My mother and father they killed. I hid my brother before they found me.”

“They didn’t kill you?”

“They destroyed me,” the woman says, baring her throat to show the marks there. “They laughed and said I would be welcome in their fold when the moon rose over my new life, and left me in the ruins of the old. I took my brother to town – left him on the doorstep of the church, and fled.”

Brigitte frowns. “Why? You could have stayed -”

Her head droops. “I could – hear his heartbeat by the end, and I wanted it. I wanted it so badly.”

She looks up at Brigitte. “I can’t be this. I can’t be a thing that would take my own brother, and I know – I know – that’s what I could become.”

She opens her mouth, and it is too wide, bends back too far.

And there are too, too many teeth.

Again, she thrusts the axe forward. “End me. Please. Please.”

Brigitte stares at the axe for what feels like a long time, but she knows at least something about what has happened. Knows at least something about what Mira will become.

Eventually she takes the axe, and does what she must.

But it is not without cost.

So, as this is part of a Troublesome journey, I think I take appropriate Stress from this interaction (-1 to my Spirit), and then I do the Endure Stress move.

But hey, Strong hit! This is pretty good: Since my Spirit is still above 0 (4, after the hit), I have the option of dropping my Momentum by -1 to take a +1 to Spirit – this scene with Mira takes the energy out of my step more than a little, but I’m able to shrug off the damage to my spirit. I like that (And I like not being down in Spirit this early into the game. Momentum loss I can deal with: I’m at 4, currently, so I drop that to 3 and effectively ignore the Spirit damage. Traveling on:

It’s probably only a few more hours to the village in the valley. Let’s see how I get on.

Okay, 3+2 gets me a 5 against a 8 and 4, so another weak hit. That moves my progress to 6, total, but I take another ding to Supply (I imagine using up a few consumables while burying Mira’s remains).

I don’t think I’m very far from the town, now, so I’ll risk rolling to Reach my Destination.

For this, I just roll the 2d10 Challenge dice, against my Progress (6), and see how things come out.

Okay, weak hit again, but a hit, nonetheless. “You arrive, but face an unforeseen complication.” Oy. More complications. “Ask the oracle if unsure” and luckily the Oracle of “the module” has an answer for this.

The last part of your journey is still within thick woods, so it’s hard to see much of the countryside, what you DO spot, however, is a body, barely visible under a bush near the side of the road.

I move to inspect the body. Male. Dressed like a villager. I’d guess he’s been dead a few days. The remains of his clothes are torn and raked with what look like claw marks. Guessing some sort of tradesman. Not wealthy. Not particularly well-fed, either, before he died.

There are many paw prints in the soft soil around the body – big ones, probably wolves, and heavy enough to make an imprint.

He has an envelope clutched in his hand.

The letter, unlike the one I got in the inn, which was dated only the day previous, is dated a week ago. The envelope is sealed with a wax seal stamped with a big “B”, and the parchment, again unlike that other letter, is worn and flimsy with damp.

It reads:

Hail thee of might and valor:

Okay this sounds familiar.

I, the Burgomaster of Barovia send you honor — with despair.

My adopted daughter, the fair Ireena, has been these past nights bitten by a creature calling its race “vampyr.” For over 400 years this monster has drained our land of the life-blood of its people. Now, my dear Ireena languishes from an unholy wound caused by this vile beast. Yet I fear, too, the creature has some more cunning plan in mind. He has become too powerful to be fought any longer.

So I say to you, give us up for dead and encircle this land with armies and the symbols of Good. Let holy men call upon their power that the Evil One may be contained within the walls of weeping Barovia. Leave our sorrows to our graves, and save the world from our evil fate.

There is much wealth entrapped in this community. BURN THIS PLACE, then return for your reward after we are departed for a better life.

Kolyan Indirovich, * *Burgomaster

While the wording is, in places, similar to the other letter, the handwriting is NOT.

Fantastic.

So… two messages. Very different requests, within. No real way to see which is the real one, yet. Not without further information.

I take the letter, bury the body, and keep moving.

The ground is soft – it doesn’t take long to dig with a camp tool, but Brig hears the howls of wolves a couple times in the distance as she wraps up. First one, then two, a few minutes later…

She wastes little time hurrying on to town and (presumed) safety.

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#Actual Play #ironsworn #pbta #ravenloft #randomaverage

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