the-erratic-archives - Tumblr blog

[the-erratic-archives]

The Unnamed Report

The authorities later asked me about the events of that cursed night. Yet to this day, I still don't know the answer. How could I describe that which was so unimaginably distant from anything familiar or logical, yet so frighteningly real that I could touch it if I, for some godforsaken reason, wanted to? Its invisibility to the human comprehension was magnified by its physical presence, making its existence far more tenebrous than any ghost or bogeyman that our minds could conjure from the shadows of imagination. No words or sounds or gestures could hope to achieve a decent description of that. It simply existed. And I know it still does, for I still have a blank space in my memory, much like a white wall that shields me from crumbling under the weight of whatever is on the other side. Ignorance is truly a blessing, and I thank whatever sympathetic cosmic force that might be listening to my thoughts at this moment for allowing me to forget. For allowing me to look at the kind and patient officer in front of me and honestly say: "I don't know."

[the-erratic-archives]

A Fateful Duel

Like a curious onlooker, the Sun crept up from the mountain's icy peak to witness the duel that was about to take place. It hastily ran through the snowy forest and scaled over the castle walls and towers before finally shining upon the metal of their blades. Neither animal or man dared to break the tension in the air between the two swordsmen as they prepared to strike each other. Frozen in their battle stances as they were, one could have mistaken them for living statues, if not for the faint steam coming from their steady breaths. And then, as flash of steel broke through the cold air, sealing their fates forever...

[the-erratic-archives]

The Recovered Journal of Wilbur Soranath is a short story I recently submited to a Eberron writing contest. It's about a stout halfling from Sharn who moves to live with some dwarven relatives in Krona's Peak and ends up stumbling on a fascinating yet terrible discovery.

[the-erratic-archives]

The Crimson Abode

His house looked like a miniature palace of foreign design. It had deep crimson walls outlined with golden paint, a gently curved rooftop filled with deep dark tiles and a small spire-like structure that sprouted from the roof like a wizard's tower. Its main entrance was a light red door with golden decorations that resembled flowing rivers of fire. Painted on the door's center was the same golden symbol depicted on the genasi's back: A round disk on top of an inverted pyramid surrounded by jagged edges. The inside was somehow minimalist and glamorous at the same time. His furniture was sparse, but very well made and organized in an oddly pleasing manner. The floor was made of a smooth auburn stone that led into his modest kitchen and living room, where a large orange carpet with intricate embroidery took most of the floor. Inside the living room were a pair of bookshelves filled with books of many different genres, next to a comfortable armchair and equally comfortable sofa, and a pot shrub with red leaves and dark wood sitting at the corner.

[the-erratic-archives]

Lightning Spear

Evocation Cantrip Casting time: 1 Action Range: 60 feet Components: S Duration: Instantaneous You hurl a crackling bolt of lightning towards a creature or object within range. Make a ranged spell attack against the target. On a hit, it takes 1d8 lightning damage, and if it's a creautre, it must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or gain a -2 to its Armor Class until the start of your next turn. The creature has disadvantage on the save if it's wearing armor or wielding weapons made of metal. This spell's damage increases by 1d8 when you reach 5th level (2d8), 11th level (3d8), and 17th level (4d8).

[the-erratic-archives]

Banishing Forks

(Rod, Uncommon) A pair of steel rods covered in a sheet of byeshk that splits into two prongs forming a U-shaped bar, like a tuning fork. Upon hitting these rods against each other as an action, they resonate at a specific constant pitch that repels any Aberrations within 30 feet of you, forcing them to make a Constitution saving throw (DC 13) or be turned until the end of their next turn. You can also achieve a similar effect by hitting one of the rods against a solid surface, but the range will be reduced to 15 feet. A turned creature must spend its turns trying to move as far away from you as it can, and it can't willingly move to a space within 30 feet of you. It also can't take reactions. For its action, it can use only the Dash action or try to escape from an effect that prevents it from moving. If there's nowhere to move, the creature can use the Dodge action.

[the-erratic-archives]

Workplace Battles

As the sun began its laborious descent amongst the many towers of Sharn, Wilbur took a moment to glance at the small pile of paperwork that stubbornly remained on his table after a whole day's work. Despite its clear finitude and inability to reproduce itself, the pile seemed determined to last "till the bitter end". It seemed to understand the nature of their conflict, the little battle of attrition that took most of his day, and sometimes a little bit of his evening to finish. The fact that the halfling always triumphed in the end didn't seem to faze the pile in the slightest, however. Every now and again, it returned with a scorned lover's worth of vengeance, threatening to crush him under its frighteningly increasing weight. And yet, Wilbur persisted. He fought with pen, wits and recently found organization skills to prevent the papery monster from taking up all of his waking hours. It was a toilsome job at times, but he still found himself enjoying it quite a bit. After all, being a private detective, among other things, meant that anything could come from beyond his door --be it a mystery, a catastrophe, or just more paperwork...

[the-erratic-archives]

Barbarian Subclass - Path of the Devourer

Scrap the Layers When you choose this path at 3rd level, you can try to sap a physical aspect of a creature you hit with a melee weapon attack while raging. The target must pass a saving throw equivalent to the ability you're trying to take or suffer the respective effect below. The DC is equal to 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Constitution modifier, and the effects last for the duration of your rage. You can't have more than one of each aspect and you can only try to steal them once per round.

Strength The target has disadvantage on Strength checks, while you can add your proficiency bonus to the damage rolls of your melee weapon attacks that use Strength.

Constitution The target loses one resistance of your choice, while you can reduce any magical damage you take by an amount equal to your Constitution modifier.

Dexterity The target has disadvantage on Dexterity checks, while you gain +2 AC when you're not wielding a shield.

Fuel and Fire At 6th level, you learn how to absorb the magical energy of any spell that tries to harm you. While raging, you can use your reaction to gain advantage on saving throws against spells and magical effects that deal damage, as well as give disadvantage on spell attacks made against you until the start of your next turn. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your Constitution modifier per long rest.

Unstoppable Hunger Beginning at 10th level, everything crumbles and shatters under your touch. For the duration of your rage, your melee weapon attacks gain the siege property. Additionally, any slashing, piercing or bludgeoning damage you deal with them can't be healed until the target takes a long rest.

Jaws of the Beast When you reach 14th level, you can siphon the very life force of your targets with every strike. Once per turn while you are raging, you gain temporary hit points equal to half of your Barbarian level after you hit a creature with a melee weapon attack. Additionally, if you have less than half of your hit point maximum, you regain hit points instead.

[the-erratic-archives]

The Musings of an Evil Ape

Somewhere in the soggy mass of meat and electro-chemicals, while consciousness was away and its primal sibling ruled, a dream was taking place. It started somewhat uneventful, like rainy afternoons at grandma’s house, or empty hallways during class. Then it took a turn down memory lane, as the finer details became progressively more personal. A heated argument, fueled by hurt and misunderstanding. Accusations pierced through the ego like stray bullets in a gunfight, their entrance wounds solidifying into hard feelings and bitterness. They were the seeds of The Problem, the birthplace of its crippling roots. From that moment on, any pain or anguish that came afterwards only nourished said noxious plant, no matter how common or unrelated to its source they were. It was the beginning of the end, the genesis of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Perhaps the worst of all was its insidious nature, as it embedded itself too deep to be noticed by unconscious eyes. Even looking directly at it wouldn’t give out its exact location. After all, Time cares not for memories or introspection, it simply ebbs and flows in an endless tide, erasing the past one wave at a time. The dream ends with watery eyes and the suffocating agony of words unsaid. They rise from the crux of the matter, yet end up stumbling on their way out and choking at the throat, turning into nothing but frustrated silence and unfinished thoughts.