#dungeons and dragons au

[honeyed-pines]

“who in the hells is bucky?”

dnd au winter soldier; former fighter turned vengeance paladin and a great old ones/hexblade warlock

[24bughours]

*thinks about d&d AUs* *thinks about d&d AUs* *thinks about d&d AUs* *thinks abou

I totally have a d&d brainworm rn because i'm starting up a new campaign as DM. gonna put a stanford inspired npc in probably because making ocs hard

[crumbsforbrains]

GOD FINALLY I CAN PRESENT MY AU Behold:

Maci's Dungeons and Dragons AU

I've been working on building and designing these characters for so long! I'm so happy to finally release them!

Over the coming days, I'll post their character sheets, starting with Pure Vanilla.

Who should be built next?

[penny00dreadful]

Been working on some art pieces for my upcoming D&D au and I’m so EXCITED to share 🥰

[myherobkg]

THE ROLE OF A LIFETIME; dungeons & dragons au

Katsuki was born a half-giant and bred to roam the plains with his barbarian brethren. He was a foul-mouthed, ill-tempered, reckless brute adorned in fur and armor with his mighty mace hanging over his back. He was born to rule them all.

But fate had other plans, and his tribe was wiped off the face of the Earth after the King of the skies razed hellfire on them. Returning from a hunt, Katsuki arrived at his decimated home, ruined to ash and rubble.

His family—his people—were there one moment and gone the next, reduced to charred statues. After that, Katsuki wandered aimlessly until he became enthralled by the allure of alcohol.

A young half-giant, the last of his tribe, turned to mercenary work to fund his gluttony.

Katsuki's last payment came from a clean-up job, clearing out a small wooded area infested with monsters. The small village on the outskirts of the wood sent for him, requesting his help for a large sum.

It was an easy feat for a warrior of his stature, and his success wrought fruitful results—a free room at the pub and all the drinks he could ask for.

However, the offer had its contingencies, and Katsuki was forced to enjoy his pints amidst the celebration held for the village people. That's where he met the Businessman.

The Businessman kept two men at his side as he sat down with Katsuki. His companions remained standing behind him.

"Enjoying the festivities, Warrior?" The man started the conversation cryptically.

Katsuki doesn't look up from his pint. The party raged around him, but no one dared touch him in passing. "No."

Clearing his throat, the man decided to skip the niceties. "I have a job for you."

"Not interested," Katsuki gruffs out before touching his lips to the rim.

"I will pay you 100 gold," the Businessman bid.

"I want 300." Katsuki slammed his glass on the table and signaled for another. The man's jaw dropped.

"300 is outrageous. It's a simple delivery to the Earl." He laughed pathetically. "I'm sure the Earl will reward you handsomely for your efficiency."

"You pay me 300 now. I'll have the Earl pay me 500 when I get there."

"So, you'll take the job?" The Businessman clenched his hands into fists with a broad smile before remembering Katsuki's rate. "If you come with us, we can pay for the cargo. However, you must leave tonight."

Katsuki froze, lifting his topped-off drink. "Make it 400."

The man choked mid-breath. "Warrior, I implore you to reconsider your price. Think of the honor you'd receive for escorting such an important gift for nobility."

Katsuki lugged half of his drink down, spilling some down the sides of his face and neck. "It's 400, or you shut the hell up and quit bothering me." His ruby-red eyes glimmered dangerously in the lamp-light.

The Businessman shrank in his seat and waved his hand for his men. The guard on his right went off to get the payment.

"If you wouldn't mind following us as quickly as you can," the Businessman murmured nervously, avoiding direct eye contact. "We can settle you with the cargo, and you can be on your way."

Katsuki looked at the weak man standing behind his employer. It wouldn't take any effort to throw that man through the ceiling, but it somehow felt appealing for the Businessman to bring security.

With this in mind, Katsuki didn't expect any issues from a little side quest for money. Perhaps he was tired from his last battle, but the adrenaline and deep, crippling fear of loneliness kept pushing him to suppress it.

"Let's get this over with." He grumbled, disregarding his last sip of beer and pushing away from the table.

The Businessman and his guard led Katsuki outside to a barn on the edge of the village. The night was calm, and the skies were clear—a good omen for this task.

"The cargo is just inside here," the Businessman murmured, sharing an uneasy expression with his guard, which alerted a few alarms in Katsuki's head. As he led Katsuki in, the guard stayed outside the entrance.

The first thing Katsuki noticed was that there was no "cargo." Two more guards were standing inside, and you were chained to the floor. Your hair and face were dirty, and your clothes were covered in dirt and cow shit.

When you looked up at him, he took note of your cat-like eyes and pointed ears. The chains around your wrists had runes etched into them.

Magic?

"Is this a goddamn joke?" Katsuki asked loudly, making one of the guards flinch. "What do you goddamn hicks take me for?"

He turns on his heel and starts walking out when the Businessman shouts out for him.

Katsuki falters in his step, and something compels him to turn to turn around. He sees the Businessman sweating profusely—he must be desperate to get you off his hands, Katsuki thinks. He catches the two guards adjusting their grips on their weapons: a spear and a bow. The sight of them shaking in fear and regret almost makes Katsuki laugh.

He licks his lips and pulls out a dagger—decides it's expendable. When he winds his arm back, all three adversaries flinch, fearful of being the target. The knife flies through the air between their shoulders, aimed for the floor where your cuffs come together.

Katsuki's taken by surprise when you slam your wrist against the ground, breaking the cuff on your right in one attempt. You tear off the other cuff with ease. He stands back and watches you jump between each man, slaughtering them with your clumsy, desperate hands.

After the men are dead, you're left standing over their bodies with blood on your hands, panting heavily.

With his arms crossed, exuding confidence, Katsuki whistles for your attention. He knows he has it when your head turns, angling your ear to him.

"How did men like them get their hands on a magic-wielding elf?" He questions, sincerely curious.

You turn to face him fully, blood and hay falling from your tunic.

"Auction houses," you answer breathlessly, with sweat matting hair to your forehead. Wiping it out of your face, you trip on your shaky legs to the barn post and release a heavy sigh. "You would've delivered me to my sixth owner. You looked like a good one when you walked in, too."

You were still breathing heavily. Katsuki recognized it as panic.

"I'm not going back," you say quickly as he approaches you. Your eyes are wild, and your appearance makes you look hysterical.

"You aren't going back," he promises quietly, raising his hand for you. Your arm shakes when you reach for him.

When he brings his fur around your shoulders, you bat it away, spitefully refusing it.

"I want to leave," you whisper anxiously, pushing against Katsuki's arms.

"Then cover yourself," Katsuki orders firmly, wrapping his fur tightly around you. His fur, which drapes over his shoulder like a garment, wraps around you like a blanket. "There are still folk wandering everywhere."

"Where are we right now?" You ask as he ushers you out of the barn.

"A village. Heldenfaire," Katsuki answers.

"There's a town in this land. I wish for you to take me there."

"We can discuss the details of our arrangement later." Katsuki threw his cloak over his shoulders and pulled his hood over his head before steering you toward the nearby stables. "Let's first focus on getting a horse."

—please reblog & comment if you like it! do not copy or repost ©

[gingerbreadpopsolo]

I'm revisiting an old au, thinking of rewriting a fanfic I've got and I'm absolutely struggling with this because of possibilities

Obv I already have ideas for each of these but STILL

[biggest-9-1-1-fan]

My take on the 9-1-1 D&D AU

This isn’t what they would play, this would be what they would be, I’m bending rules and with Buck and Maddie, biology.

Also this is according to version 3.5 because that’s the one I started on and I’m nostalgic about it.

Lone Star AU

[thecutestlittlebunbunfairy]

@thezombieprostitute @navybrat817 @noellez-best-life23 @xoxoviva @ronearoundblindly @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bigtreefest @biteofcherry @angrythingstarlight @a-lumos-in-the-nox @stargazingfangirl18 @waywardwifey

[backbiters-heartstring]

Chapter 1: The Moon Maiden Request Your Assistance

Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the Chosen One, felt ill.

[cliffdiamond]

don't know if this appeals to anyone but me and the three friends i've shared it with but. fantasyduckhightales au anyone?

————

The night before the first day, Huey spends time in the library looking for books. He still hasn’t clarified his class quite yet, but he’s thinking about some kind of magic specialty—magic can do almost anything, and he likes to be prepared, so he’s considering wizardry. With several books in his arms, he trudges up to their shared room, only to be met with Dewey wielding a piece of wood as a sword at his face when the door opens.

“Ah,” he says, trying not to sound annoyed. “Dewford.”

“Back, ye scurvy dog!”

“You’re not going to pirate school,” Louie says, sounding as annoyed as Huey feels. “Put that down already.”

“I need to practice!”

“Practice what?” Huey says, sidestepping Dewey’s stabbing motion with ease. “You haven’t gotten any instructions yet. You’re just waving that around like a maniac. You’ll knock someone’s teeth out.”

“That’s the intention!”

Huey sets several books on Dewey’s bunk, then climbs up the ladder, slowly moving them up before he climbs onto his own bed. Louie leans over to look up, frowning.

“You haven’t gotten instructions yet either, Hubert.”

“I know,” Huey says. “I just want to see if I can get a good feel for it before I commit to being a wizard.”

“A wizard?” Louie laughs, leaning his head back to laugh and nearly falling off the bunk. Huey frowns down at him before throwing himself onto his own bunk up top. “Oh, you’ve gotta be joking.”

“I’m not,” he says, short, and climbs into his spot and pulls the closest book to him to open it.

“As if you’re doing anything better,” Dewey says, dropping the wood with a loud thunk that makes Huey flinch. “What class did you choose?”

“Easiest class at the school,” Louie brags. “Ranger.”

“As if you have the coordination for that,” Huey mutters.

“I heard that!”

“Good!” He leans over the railing. “You’re not gonna be a good ranger. Why don’t you try something good, like rogue?”

Louie waves his hand. “Too much work.”

Huey huffs and leans back into his spot. “Whatever.”

The bed shakes several times. After a moment, Dewey’s face pops up at the ladder, staring at Huey expectantly. Huey raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Is wizard going to be a good fit?”

“I don’t know,” Huey says, voice tight. “I haven’t had a chance to read yet.”

“Are you gonna keep us up all night while you read?” Louie complains from below. “I hate it when you do that. I need all the rest I can get.”

“Right, for your easy class that won’t take any effort,” Huey snipes. “And no, I’ll try not to. I’m not the one who tosses and turns every single night laying down and doing dance routines before bed.”

“I have to stay limber!” Dewey protests, throwing his hands up and nearly falling back before he catches himself. The bed shakes again. “Especially now, with me being a fighter and all.”

Not for the first time, Huey wishes he had a room by himself, and he turns back to his book instead of responding. Dewey doesn’t leave, though. He just…hovers there. Staring.

“Can I help you?” Huey snaps.

“…whatcha reading?”

“A book.”

“Well, obviously. I can’t see you picking up D-14 to read,” Dewey says sarcastically. “You’d hate it more than Webby, and that’s saying a lot.”

“You’re interrupting me.”

“O-kay,” Dewey says dramatically, leaning back on the ladder. The bed shakes again. “You’re mad at me. Why? Cause I picked a better class than you? Cause I was practicing in the room with one of the slats from under your bunk?”

“I—“ Huey doesn’t process the last point for a moment, and then he leans over the bunk to check and yes, there’s a slat missing, and oh, shit, he leaned too far and he’s colliding with Louie’s face and hitting the ground before he can finish processing the rest of it. He feels Dewey try to catch him, at least, but that just means all three of them are in a pile on the floor, groaning from impact. Huey feels bad for Louie, whose face is pushed into Huey’s stomach; it’s not comfortable for Huey either, though. All three of them lay there for a moment, then Louie shoves up, and Dewey rolls onto Huey’s head and bangs his beak into the floor, and Huey feels the white-hot anger take over him.

He doesn’t get like this often, but it’s been happening a lot more lately. The Duke of Making A Mess makes his appearance, and Huey snaps forward and bites Dewey’s arm ferociously. Dewey yelps, and Louie goes from trying to shove Huey away to trying to pull him back. It doesn’t work. Huey kicks back and feels his foot make contact with Louie’s stomach with a loud smack, then Huey bites Dewey’s arm several more times as his middle brother shrieks in pain.

“Stop it! Stop!”

“Huey!”

“You ruined everything!” Huey hisses, biting so hard he thinks he can taste blood before he sits up and grabs the front of Dewey’s shirt to shake him. “You ruin everything all the time, you stupid little fuck!”

“Huey!” Louie grabs him around the stomach and yanks him back, but it comes at the price of Dewey’s shirt, which rips at the collar and right down the middle. Huey flails wildly, then—when he realizes he’s losing the fight—starts shredding the strip of fabric with his teeth and hands until it’s barely more than floating fibers in the air. Louie drops him unceremoniously, and Huey watches both of his brothers back away from him and stare at him in…horror.

His chest heaves. The Duke vanishes, and Huey is left with his brother’s blood on his teeth. He drops what little of Dewey’s shirt he has left in his hands and stares down.

“Huey,” Louie says sharply. “What was that?”

He wipes the end of his beak with the back of his arm, staring at the red liquid that comes off. He did that. His brother is hurt, and he did that, and it’s on his mouth, and—

“Sorry,” he mumbles, pushing to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dewey scramble back from him. “I’ll—go get, uh, the first aid kit.”

“I’m not letting you walk out of this room until you tell us what that was,” Louie insists, stepping in Huey’s way. “You just attacked Dewey.”

“He ruined everything,” Huey mumbles. “He broke the bed.”

“Huey.”

“Stop saying that,” Huey hisses, shutting his eyes.

“It’s your name,” Louie huffs. “I’m not going to stop calling you your name.”

A thought takes over for a moment—an inkling of an idea. Huey glares up at Louie, bares his teeth a little without moving, then flinches forward as if he’s going for Louie next.

And like clockwork, Louie flinches back.

“I’m getting the first aid kit,” Huey says, straightening his shirt. He watches Louie’s face shift from horror, to shock, to anger, to something worse than that. “And Mrs. Beakley. I’m sure she has another room I can stay in.”

“You’re leaving?”

Huey doesn’t look back at Dewey. He sounds…well, frankly, pathetic. It makes his heart hurt. That’s one of his baby brothers, after all— But Huey was the one who hurt him, and Huey’s still mad, and there’s blood on his beak and he ruined one of Dewey’s favorite shirts.

“Yeah,” he says. “Probably for the best. Don’t want to interrupt your practice.” And then he storms out.

[dranathedragon]

I’m a D&D nerd, who is currently obsessed with Dead Boy Detectives, so of course the “What class would everyone be?” thought has been tickling me. I’ve seen a few other people post their thoughts on it, and I’ve been reading the amazing “Messrs Payne and Rowland’s Adventuring Agency” by @terresdebrume whenever it updates. Seriously, it’s really good, highly recommend. So I figured I’d throw my hat in the ring and see what anyone else’s thoughts are while I’m at it. Just doing the core four in this post.

So let’s get the easy one out of the way first, Crystal. She’s 100% a sorcerer, her power comes from her bloodline, she was born with it. Because she’s psychic based I’d say she’s specifically an Aberrant Mind sorcerer, without all the deep space tentacle monster baggage. Though she does have disembodied floating eyeballs in her psyche so MAYBE!

Next up is the second easiest, Edwin. He’s a wizard, everyone knows he’s a wizard. What KIND of wizard though? I’m going with Order of Scribes. He loves that little notebook so much, it gained sentience. How awesome would it be, if in this D&D version of the show, Edwin’s notebook didn’t follow him to hell because it was his sentient spell book, and it stayed behind with a purpose? It stayed behind because it KNEW Charles would never leave Edwin there and he would attempt a rescue. It KNEW Charles would go, and it KNEW it had to stay behind to help him. It showed him the things he needed to see, the information and maps that would reunite him with their wizard. I just love that.

Next up is Charles. He was a little tougher. I’ve seen quite a few posts saying that he’s a barbarian, and at this, I must object. At least with the criteria I’m using I suppose. Charles’ power doesn’t come from his rage. The one time we see him using his rage to fight, Edwin’s horrified and worried reaction pretty much confirms this was wildly out of character for him.

Just as an aside, I’m a firm believer of when Edwin said, “That was extreme”, he wasn’t talking about knocking the night nurse off the cliff. He was talking about Charles’ reaction in general, it was an extreme REACTION. He’d never seen Charles act with that much anger, hate, and violence before. He’s not an attacker, he’s a defender. It scared him, but he was scared FOR Charles, not OF him. Our wizard just isn’t great at people’ing. That’s a discussion for a different post though! Back to the topic at hand!

So, if I don’t think he’s a barb, what is he? Well, I’ve got two possible options. One thing that’s said quite a bit in the show, is how charismatic Charles is. And let’s face it, he is. So, using that logic, I’d say he could possibly be a Paladin. Specifically, an Oath of Devotion Paladin. I mean, come on, his power would so come from his extreme devotion to his favorite wizard. That would be a fun one, but there’s my second option which I find slightly more plausible.

It’s shown multiple times in the show, that while Charles claims to be just the brawn, he’s actually very clever and capable of thinking outside the box. Not to mention, he’s all about magic items. Bag of holding, enchanted cricket bat, enchanted jar/paper weight, enchanted lullaby ball, the disguises, the list goes on. So he’s smart and specializes in magic items, that screams Artificer. I’d say he’s a Battle Smith Artificer, some of their specialty spells are based around defending/supporting their allies, and you can’t tell me he wouldn’t find having a little robot pet, sorry STEEL DEFENDER, completely aces. He’d also name it like “Steve” or something and treat it like it was his and Edwin’s child, fight me on that lol. (Jk, don’t fight me I don’t like conflict!) Update: Charles’ lock picking has been mentioned and it just added to this for me as Artificers get expertise in thieves’ tools. How did I forget this?!

So that leaves Niko, who is kind of the wild card. I saw at least one post saying she’d be a bard, but I don’t think that’s accurate. Bards are all about attention (well mostly, I guess whispers would be an exception but she wouldn’t be a whispers anyway) and the whole sprite possession thing seemed to kinda make her uncomfortable with it. Idk, it just doesn’t really fit right to me. On the same thread though, so far in the show, Niko’s only real power is to see the dead. That might be expanded if we get a second season (🤞🏻), but for right now, that’s all she’s got other than being a good friend and excellent reading comprehension skills (which I might revisit this using that last one later). That said, since she got that ability (technically) because of the sprites (more because they almost killed her, but also they’re with her in the igloo so this still might work!) I’d say Niko is a Warlock. Just by the by, I hate that the class is called “Warlock”. That’s a word that came from an old English word meaning “oath breaker or he who breaks their oath”. Warlocks are all about MAKING not BREAKING pacts. Just a weird choice but MOVING ON! Since the sprites seem kind of Fey, I’d say she’d be a Pact of the Archfey. Nothing to do with the pact’s skill set, since we’d have nothing to compare it to, just because they seem fey to me.

So that’s what I’ve got so far. I might think of other characters’ later, like what would Jenny be etc. What do you guys think? I like to hear other people’s opinions on this! It’s fun to bat around!

[vacpion]

Finally all the gang all together

Hetafantasy masterdoc link

[kaakelymaakely]

a rogue and a bard walk into a bar...

KLANCE DND!AU PROLOGUE

When the Kingdom's artifact comes up missing, Keith and Lance are tasked with retrieving it. As they navigate this dangerous, magical world, their uneasy alliance quickly makes way into something more intimate.

OR!

In which Keith hates bards, and Lance hates tieflings.

“Vrepit sa!” 

Zarkon cried out, poised on one of the Kingdom of Altea’s abundant boulders. It was difficult to keep his footing, as the shape of it was eroded, an effect of the kingdom’s natural acidic rain. His boots scuffed against the mass of it, kicking the small, loose pieces out of his way. It was still dark out, the threat of dawn only hours away. The full moon hung behind him, low, crowning his head like some sort of halo. The light of it bounced off his army of tieflings’ armor, bold and blinding. 

The air itself was dry, and worst of all, hot. It was hard to fill their lungs, instead they were forced to take shallow breaths. It burned their throats. The heated air made the army’s uniforms stuffy, and scorching to the touch. They had already lost a number of tieflings to the heat, their bodies abandoned as they marched on. Those who attempted to stop and help the affected were consequently trampled by the stampede of Zarkon’s tieflings. Such is war. 

He unsheathed his broadsword, the glint of it in the moonlight reflecting his own sharp eyes. He does not hold eye contact. Instead, he slices through the air, raising his sword high in one swift motion. Zarkon’s elbow straightens and extends, the sharp blade pointing towards Altea’s castle. A signal. His tieflings erupt in their own battle cries in response, their weapons pointed towards the stars. They move as one, rushing their way towards the castle.

The Queen sits in her castle’s tower, watching. Next to her stands a servant. She does not recognize them, as their face is shrouded, shaded by the hood of their cloak. Not that it matters; she has too many workers to learn all their names or faces. 

In her hands lies the kingdom’s own artifact: The Heart of the Mountain. It is a red stone the size of a softball. Almost a perfect circle, but not quite. The sides are slightly lopsided, favoring the right over the left. The center is a deep, dark slit, reminiscent of a cat’s eye. Its surface pulses with veins of molten gold. She carefully cups her hands around the surface and brings the stone close to her chin. She whispers words into it, watching as the red begins to shift into a brighter orange. The color travels into her hands, and runs down her arms in the shape of runes.

It starts with the boulder Zarkon’s perched on, the surface of it begins to shift. His eyes narrow as he looks down, watching the rock shake. Suddenly, a large crack forms in the boulder, splitting it in two. He swiftly jumps to one side as the crack expands into the ground, rushing its way to his soldiers. The rift enlarges into a canyon, magma rising from the depth below.  he growls, biting out a warning, but it comes out too late. The ground splinters, and half of the tieflings careen off the edge, ruthlessly swallowed by the magma. Those who don’t immediately succumb claw at the edges, attempting to climb their ways out. Their attempt is futile though. The earth crumbles under their hands, and they fall. Zarkon sneers.

The runes decorating the Queen’s arms start to burn and puff her skin. She cries out, dropping the stone. It rolls at her feet before landing in front of the servant. A grin pokes through from their hood as they pick it up, leaving to return it to the royal vault. They hesitate at the door, looking back at where the Queen is bent over in pain, holding a hand against her burning wrist. Believing they are looking for her comfort, she offers them a strained smile. They offer no response, tail flicking behind them as they exit.

The Queen furrows her brows, something nicking at the back of her brain. Instead of taking note, she redirects her attention to the battlefield. With the stone now gone, the earth begins to etch itself together, faults pushing against one another. The canyons close, forever trapping the tiefling army. Any magma that began to bubble up, settles back down into the cracks. Eventually, it was as if the ground had never split.

“Retreat!” the Queen calls out, leaning out of the tower's window. Her voice carries far, all the way to Zarkon. “Lest you desire to succumb to the same fate as your army!”

At the elven Queen’s words, a low growl threatens deep in his throat. He swallows it down, instead smiling, all pointed teeth. The Queen’s eyes sharpen at the rumbling laugh that erupts from Zarkon. Despite his apparent loss, he sounds triumphant. Her grip tightens nervously from where she’s still cradling her wrist, the action making her hiss in response. 

“You may think you have won,” Zarkon snarls. “But think again.” 

With that, he reaches into his chestplate and pulls out an amulet. His fist wraps around it and, with a flick of a wrist, smoke spills from the locket. It lazily curls around him, fully surrounding him and successfully veiling him from the Queen’s view. When the hot hair blows, the smoke clears, and he is gone. The Queen straightens her spine and eyes where Zarkon had just stood, before thinking back to her servant. A sickening feeling twists in her stomach. Just to make sure, she turns tail, her cloak whipping behind her. 

She rushes down the halls, ignoring her staff’s concerned questions as she hurries past. A few try to stop her and make sure she’s okay, but with one deadly look, they relent. It isn’t long before the Queen is dashing up the spiral stairs, all the way to the highest level of the castle. She swings open the doors to reveal the royal vault. Entering the code into the vault’s keypad, the vault twists open with a satisfying hiss. That sickening feeling transforms into waves of nausea.

There is no stone.

The Heart of the Mountain is gone.  

– 

Dear Keith, 

I am sorry, but I’m calling in my favor.  

The Heart of the Mountain is missing, taken by the Galra Army last night. I had let my guard down and, in consequence, it was taken right from under my nose. I failed as your Queen. 

I am enlisting your help to retrieve my precious artifact, as the fate of my kingdom relies on it. However, you will not be alone. Lance, another trusted ally of mine, will be joining you on this journey. Together, I trust my stone will be returned safely. In return, I will reward you with 500,000 gold coins, each.  

I expect to meet you both for a quick debrief this fortnight, at noon. We may round together at the town’s tavern, on Main Street. Please, pack appropriately, and make sure to bring Red. The quicker we can recover The Heart of the Mountain, the safer our kingdom may be.  

You owe me. 

-Your Queen. 

[penny00dreadful]

WIP Weekend

Happy WIP weekend friends! Thanks for the tag @hbyrde36

I have one big project I'm working on right now, my Devotion comic so here, have a sneaky peak at a panel with baby Eddie and Chrissy ☺️

No pressure tags: @pearynice @klausinamarink @augustjustice @just-my-latest-hyperfixation @shares-a-vest @thefreakandthehair @thisapplepielife @starryeyedjanai @cranberrymoons

[flyingfortress1]

Band of Brothers- Dungeons and Dragons Edition Part 1:

Here's our lovely officers- because we all need more D&D in any fandom, and I'm bored so. gods are forgotten realms. Let me know what you think they should be class/subclass wise- D&D fans unite!

Richard Winters: Paladin, Oath of Devotion- look...this one was a no brainer. Oath of Devotion is literally the straightest path you can go as a paladin- it's all about holding yourself to the highest standards, helping others etc, tenets of honesty, courage, justice etc. I feel like this fits for a guy who was very disciplined and didn't indulge in the traditional vices, plus seemed to have a strong sense of religion. Paladins are also kinda the leaders, can heal like clerics but they're a lot more martial focused. also I feel like if Dick played dnd, he would know the books back to front. He is the moral center of the party no questions asked, and also probably its babysitter lol. background is probably folk hero- farm boy performed a miracle (healed blind Blithe) and is the chosen champion of the Platinum Dragon, or Tyr god of justice, or Torm, god of courage and self-sacrifice.

Lewis Nixon: Rogue, Inquisitive subclass because they're all about intell which fits Nixon's canon role, and intell would certainly be one of his highest stats. This is the guy who sneaks in, gets the info, gets out. Probably has a noble background considering he's rich. He's also socially adept, besides, we love angsty rogues. It also makes a good foil for Winters lol because winnix is inevitable we all know. He's certainly the strategist, but probably hangs back in a fight with a crossbow. He'd also get all the lore- this man goes DEEP. He's got connections from high society and the money. got that low con score tho

Ronald Speirs: Fighter, banneret subclass because this guy fights, kicks ass, and inspires others while doing it. A fighter is a peak warrior, which makes sense for him being a great officer, plus, just a badass. Probably does a Foy run sometime- decent stats, but rolls a nat20 a lot and is just epic in battle....persuasion outside of intimidation not so much. Fights with two swords- loots everything, and this man is absolutely a dice goblin- he won't admit it, but he is.

Harry Welsh: Hexblade Warlock. His archfey patron is just Kitty- she fell in love with this man, but realized he is crazy and insane so gave him a magical weapon to hopefully keep him from dying. they're married, it works- don't ask me why I thought of this, he was supposed to be a druid. Absolutely always in the inevitable tavern brawl, focused on his strength, con, and dex stats... wisdom and intel not so much. Just a fighter really who forgets he has spells sometimes and with a magical quarter staff he hits enemies with. somehow always makes his saves when he does crazy stuff.

Carwood Lipton: Battle Smith Artificer. the engineer guy k? He's the one that fixes things- also battle smiths get a robert buddy called a steel defender- hence, my thoughts on continuing the guard dog metaphor and giving Lip a steel guard dog so that he can protect his men- both in a fight, and also healing them, fixing their armor, weapons, etc- the rock of the group.

Buck Compton: Ranger, Arcane Archer. I really wasn't sure what to do for him so went ranger- running on his baseball skills alone, I don't know. Arcane archer is all about shooting magical arrows, and Buck needs to have a little pizzazz I think. His charisma score is pretty good- that man is amazing with the townspeople, very charming- probably the spokesperson when you need to smooth things over.

[icecream-puffu]

Working on something

What do y'all think?