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How I want to roll up on D&D.




3 R D D A Y ! ! We tackled the purpose of the Temple. And during the class I was thinking about the blessing of having a temple. Well I am indeed forever grateful that I can connect to heaven, the place where I can find peace despite the commotion anywhere. 💛







A lot of character design this year, thanks to D&D. I have a lot of fun with it. 😭✨💖



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今日は とにかく、欲しいアンドレアルはDかCしか出ないのに 他のモンスターはAが よく出た ベビルが1番嬉しい アンドレアル、Aは2つできたが 無理して集めるのは止める 身体が持たん 期間終わりまでに 1日10〜20戦 繰り返して 出なかったら 縁がなかったということで…




D.D. ラストでカメラが寄っていく感じが最高にカッコイイ✨✨✨①







Yo soy el tipo de persona que lleva fruta cortada a la sesión de D&D, que están más ricas y empachan menos que las bolsas de fritos.



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帰宅… 7℃ って思うと、大したことない気がするんだが なぜか、身体がキツいんだな どうにか 耕耘できて良かった 明日は 播種 頑張るぞ




Happy Friday Ya’ll! Make it Yours! - D & D Financial Services

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すのうぇいぼに最近アップされてるモコモコ衣装見るとシベリア超特急思い出しちゃうの




44510615 :参戦ID 参加者募集! Lv100 シュヴァリエ・マグナ




A wild new event appears! In just two weeks' time, we're doing a D&D live play to support !






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Luck, or something like it
image

Something a bit different for this fill because I didn’t get to actually roleplay most of this out and it won’t leave me alone!

Prompt: Tears of fear

Fandom: Original work/D&D setting

Characters: Eldrin Thorne (a chronically-unlucky-but-somehow-still-alive warlock). Assorted others mentioned.

Summary: Eldrin didn’t expect to come out of this alive in the first place, so really the sky falling on him shouldn’t come as a surprise.

The sky is tearing open, Queen Hera is looking at him with pity in her ancient eyes and Eldrin is completely, one hundred percent screwed.

If he’s being honest with himself, he hadn’t really gone into this fight expecting to come out of it alive at the end. To be fair he’s surprised he’s survived this long with how terrible his luck tends to be, he manages to nearly die once or twice a week. If it wasn’t for stubborn friends dragging him out of the (sometimes literal) fire and shoving healing potions in him he would’ve been dead months ago.

Hells, the last time he went up against The Triad he’d lost his damned foot, and that’s just been two of them, not all three plus an army.

He’d done his best, okay? This wasn’t his fault. He’d run out of the juice he needed to cast large scale spells before they even got here (stupid stupid stupid, wasting a spell like that one something that couldn’t even feel it). He’d been stuck with smaller magics, the ones that came as easy as breathing, but that didn’t mean they didn’t pack a punch. When they hit anyway.

So he’d hung back, stayed with Azrael and the squad of archers and hoped that if he kept his distance, if he didn’t charge in like an idiot and try to stab insanely powerful people in the face (again) that maybe, just maybe he’d survive this.

To say things had been going well would be generous, but they’d fought The Triad to a standstill and fixed the massive hole in reality before it could destroy the entire planet (and he wasn’t thinking about that, he was very carefully not thinking about that). They hadn’t been able to stop them from tearing down The Weave though.

The Weave, the barrier of magic that separates this world from the ether, from the void. The Triad has ripped it down, it’s falling.

Queen Hera has raised a shield. He was outside it and there was no way he could make it in time, and she knows, because why else would she be looking at him like that.

Azrael is closer to the shield. She’s faster too, already running for the glimmering wall of force.

Eldrin doesn’t even try. There’s no point.

Time seems to slow to a halt. He sees Azrael make it. He’s glad, in a distant sort of way.

The Weave is falling above him, and it’s like a field of light and like the sky and like magic itself all at once, while at the same time being precisely none of those things. It’s beautiful, terrifying and unimaginable in its scope, the work of the elder gods so far beyond his comprehension that his brain just gives up trying.

It’s going to kill him.

His cheeks are wet, he hadn’t even noticed until now, isn’t that funny? He has time for one desperate sob of terror-


And then-

It hits.


He’s screaming. He must be. But he can’t hear it. He can’t feel it.

He can’t feel anything because he’s too busy feeling everything.

The Weave- it’s magic, it’s the source of magic, and it’s too much. It’s everything.




B̷̡̮̗̖̗̘̠̞̱̪̘̙͓̞̱͇̱̠͈̰͍̣̠̊͐̊͂͊̅͑̒̓̅̄͑̽̐̈́̄̄̏͑̓̈͘̚͠͝ĺ̵͍̭̼̟͖͇̜̥͚͎̗̞͓̪͍̲̹͍̮͒̓͐͊̎͋͗̑̾̽͒̈́̍̉̎̎̓͗̎̒̎̍̉͆̅̍̑̑́̏̾̄̕̚̚̚̕̚͜͝ư̴͎͕̲͚̙̘̮̂̀̓͐͛͛̈͛̔̃̊̑̃͐̄̇̒̇̅̄̿̐̀̓̐̚͝͝ͅn̸̢̧̛͕̞̥̟͇͓͈̬̹̣̗̯̟͇̜͈͌̓̈́͆̅͆̉̋̇͐̔̈́̍͊̌̽͆̌̊̅̀̏̊͑̀͝ͅͅt̵̨̢̼̟̲͕̤̻̤̗̯͙̖̭̠̤̙͔̣̐̒̉́͗̆͒́̀͑͋̈́͊̇̆͒̄͌͛͆̽́̍̋͛̈́̉̓͌͑̐͘̚̕͠͠ͅ ̶̢͔̪͚̦̟͈̭̟̬͇͇͉̘̮̝̝̤̞̰͚̺̅s̴̢̧̨̡̡̗̤̻̤̯̘̰̜͙̳̥͚͚͈͉͈͉̪̜̾̂̐̒͜ͅͅh̵̡̨̢̛̙̹̺͚̖͙͚̼̫̥̫̹̤͈͎̙̞̣́͗̏̉̓͘ͅạ̶̢̧̛̼̼̗̬̳̭̮̪̝̭̫̦̬̝̘̝̊͋͑͆̈̂̎̔̓͂̌͌́͛͌͐̓̆̔̃̒̐͛̿̈́̆̌̐̓̊̕̕͝͝͠r̶̝͚̗͖̓͋͒̍̽̎̎̇͗̋̒̂̄̄͆̈́̽͋̇̅̉̃͆̕͘̚͝p̵̡̨̢̡̨̛̳͕͔͉͍͍̥̩̫̯̫̪͎̰̟̯̟̲̘̣̯̾͛̏̌͂̌̐͂̇͝ͅ ̴̨̝̩̣͚̱͉̝͚̯̪͙̙̰̖̮̗̋̐̇́̀̌̅̏͆̓̂͐̌̌͜͝͝h̴̢̢̡̛̲͎̫̝̮̗̯͉̫̞̖̺͎̹̠̗̝̹̹͎͖̞̘̳̗͆́͒͂̊̊̄̈́͋̈́́͘͜ͅo̶̧̧̧͍̜̲̙̦͔̳͙̰̹̹̣̗͕̼̥̪̤̬̬͖̭̗̩̥̓̆̓́̀̌͑͌̓̊͒͐̌̓̃̽̌̈́͘͜͠͝ͅt̸̨͉͔͔̘̣̲͔̦͖̪̾̓̇̔̀̊̋́̏́̐̀̅̌́͘ ̴̛̛̛̯̯̳͊̊̒͋̀̎͌̈́͐͊̀̌̈̎̐̄̄͒̍̊͠͝͝ç̶̎́̇̆̉́͗̓̂͌̾̔́͋́̏̅͆̓͐͌͒̂̇͐̏͋̍̐͐̓͐̚̕̕͠o̷̙̺͎͙͍̯͈͇̙̫̜̲̼̮̞̬̗͎͗̅̅͋̓̀̆͋̆̀̑̐́̎̇̑̔͛̾̊̓̆̆͘͜͠ľ̴̢̨̖̱͙̰̠̘̗͖̟̺͕̝̇̓̄̄̀͋͛̉̔̓̒̽̃̊̔̀̕͠d̸̜̝̗̂ ̸̢̺̹̥̩͉͉͖̣̥̞͙̜̺̩̜͖̬̀͑̈́̾͗̓̚͜͜ļ̵̛͈̹̺̥͎̟͖̗̟̩̝͇̳͔̳̭̟̹̻̑͛̏̀͗̀̒̀͑̌̎̌͛͌̊͋̀̅̃̄͑̈́͘͜͝ͅo̴̠̹̼̻̻̻͖̞̠̮̞̱̰̞̓͌͋͝ų̶̧̡͎̭̪͍̻̜̝̯͖̫̀̽̔ḑ̵̡̛̹͕͓͍̪̪̥̫̗̮̠͙̬̟͚̜̱̱̘̦̩̼̬̥͉̭͈͓̟̤͉͐̈́͋̀̑͛͋̐̍̿͒̀̃̑̈́̎̌̆͊͆̈̍̄̔̏̎̃̄͒̓̑̕͠͠ͅͅ.̴̠̑̆̈́̑̈͗̏́




Ë̸̢̲̼̩͙̫̰͙̩̬͚̲̺̩̰̭̠̯͎͚̰̞̟̻͖̝͖̣̻́̿͗͛͑͆̈̓̐̾̄̅̓̐͆̾̈́͆̾̒̄̉̈̓͌̈́̽̓̂̽̀̔̔̚̚̕͜͝͝v̵̡̨̡̢̨̧̧̧̢̧̪̥̹̯̺͈̬̻̫͙̘͕̖̦̳͖͇̫͉̫̳̻̗̯̦̮̯͉͇̝̰͙̫̠̟̱̮̼̲͕̺͓̺̫̖̲̖͖̥͖̖̟̳̪̖̟͕̖̦̖̤̲̪͎͉͖͖̙̜̫̥̩̣̞̩̜̩͕͍̤̜̗̹̩̆̒̂͆̊̒̅͒̏̓͋͊̎̂͒̀̿͊̒͛͗͜͠͝͝ͅę̷̛͕͖̟̫̺͙̦͓͇̪̠̳̠̹̯̦̯͔̙͎̟̖̜̟̦͚̬̤̼͚̠͇̳̹͓͈̗̪͚̺̋͂͛̋̿̒̊̉̽̎̏̋̀̈̈̀̈́̒͑̂̐͆̋̿̍͌͌͘̚͜͠͝r̶̡̨̢̨̡̨̨̨͍̗͔̼͖͍̞̤̫̰͕̹̞̬̩̟̲͓̳͈̣͓̦̱͔̼̖̘̪̬̱̪̤̝͓̻̩̝͙͕̟̩͎̯̳͎̜͇̫̂̒̊̂͛̔̍͗̐͊̐̀̒͛͌̅͌̊y̵̡̨̡̡̡̨̡̛̛͎̺͚̖̲͎͔̝̩̭̲̪̤̺̬̘͔̻͙̠̩͙͓̪̫̖̰̗̳̪̝̘͖̙̤̠͖͚̗̞̳̲̭͔̘̠͓̭̘͉̰͉͚̩̳͎̠̻̗̟̤̘̖̹̰̮͎̯̰͔̤̳͈̟̼̹͙͙͕̭̻̝̥̑̅̆̐̂͋̎̈́̓̐̒̓̿̐͊̅̎̽̀̓̑̀̏͗͂̋̾̉̾́̍͗̃́̋͛͐̅̍̀̌͐̆̏̚͜͜͜͝͠͠͝͝͝ͅͅť̷̢̢̨̢̡̧̨̢̧̖͕̥̲͕͖̦̠̼͓͓͚̼̞̼͙̟̪̠̞̬̝̻̻͕̙̺͕̟͉̟̬͚͓̺̬͕͓̟̬̯̠̬͇̙̭̳͉̬̮̙̪͎̤̗̘̗̠̠̹̜̖̬̝̻͖̲͚̗̲̹͎̠͙̼̗̠͕̳͙̪̩͚̈́̓͐̈́͆̿͗͛̾͊̏͑̈́̈͆̉̃̊̐̈́̀͊̆̓̓̕͘͜͜͠͝͝ͅͅͅͅh̸̨̹̘̱͕̪͙̄̐̇͑ȉ̵̧̛̛̛̛͎͚̟͎̹̼̘̺̱̰̬̳̺̟͕̟̜͙͈͇̺̝̮̝̝̙͈̭̥̟̞͔̗̩̤̝͖̖̝̠̹̣̐͛̇͂̓͗̅͊͆̈̈́̂̋̋̀̈̿͗́͑̑̿̈́́̋̂̉́͛͊͌͛̈̾̅̌̑͊̽̿̏̓̀̇̓̄̈́̈́̍́̚͘̕̕̚͘͠͝͠͠͝͝ͅṇ̷̡̧̢̧̛̹͎̩̮̩̣͖̤̦͔̝̭̲̠̪̦̟̫͔̤̹̗̗̮̖̥̳̟͍̘̥̖̮̦̮͉̝̫̲̺̻̭̗̬̪̓͒͑̀̏͆̉̉̇͒̔̀̋̇̽̾̋͗͊̈̓͗̓̀̆̾̆̈̀͑͐̋͐́̓̂̚̚̚̚͜͜͠͝͝ͅģ̴̡̢̨̨̬̣̬̤͍̞̻̭͈͓͙͚̬̰̫̞̱̰̜͕̪͎̞̦̞̖̭̦̜̼̫͓̩͓̥̝̫̫̭̙̝͎͕̱̦͎̺̤͈̰͎̗̿̄́̈́́̀͆̾̿̉̕͝ͅ








It passes, and he’s still breathing.

He doesn’t feel like he should be.

There are bruises- from where he fell. His throat is raw and bleeding- from where he s̶̛̪̫̲̳͍̩̦̺̒̐̓͌͗̅͋̏͊̒̿̄̆̕̕ͅč̶̟͔̋r̸̨̡̡̢̢̻̘̭̼̼̠̫͉̟̒͐̏͆͛̾̏͜͝ȩ̵̧̛̛̱̪͈́̿̀͊͊͜a̶̡̭͕̦͔̓͋͌͐͌̀̐͒̎͑̚̕ͅͅm̶̼̥͉͓͓̋́̎̔͊̓́̾͝͝e̵̢͍̹͍̼̻̫̪͖͕̲͍̺̫͆͒̀͘ͅd̵̰̲̲͍̬͈̼̲̬͍̣̣͔̭̙̝͂͆̇͑͘͜͠.̶̨̢̬̝̹̥̗̺̺̹͍̬̲͔̫̰̬͍̀̎̅̆͒͜ But aside from that-

Nothing.

There’s not a scratch on him. He feels like he’s been shredded.

He takes a moment to breathe. It’s agony, the air itself seems to burn, but no, that’s not right, it’s just him that’s burning. The pain doesn’t fade, not really, but he manages to push it aside for long enough to roll onto his side, to get his arms under him and painfully drag himself up to his hands and knees.

He’s surrounded by corpses, their faces frozen in terror. The archers. Not a single one of them survived. He should probably feel bad about that, but right now he just doesn’t have the energy.

He’s- tired. Exhausted. In a way that cuts deeper than bone, down to the very soul of him.

But he’s breathing, his heart is beating, despite everything he’s still alive. Which means he has to keep moving.

He fumbles for a healing potion, one of the good ones, fighting with the cork before downing the whole thing in one go. A feeling of coolness flows through him, followed by a numbness that doesn’t so much soothe the pain as block it. Either way the sudden lack of pain is jarring, and he’s not ashamed of the shuddering whine that escapes him.

Slowly he brings his good leg under him and clambers to his feet, still not used to the mechanical one enough to trust it to take his weight. He limps towards the wall of magic with shuffling, uneven steps, leaning on his staff for support.

He walks through the barrier. Queen Hera looks just as surprised as he was that he managed to survive, and perhaps he should be mad at her for not trying to save him, but honestly, he can’t find it in him to blame her. There were bigger things to worry about than one unlucky half-elf, the fate of the world and all that.

The Triad are nowhere in sight, but his friends are here. They’re all alive, and mostly unhurt, and Queen Hera is saying something reassuring so hopefully that means the world hasn’t ended just yet. So maybe they haven’t won the day, but they haven’t lost either.

And he should probably be grateful, or relieved, or hell even a little proud for playing some small part in this fight. For being lucky enough to survive it.

But he’s not.

He’s just tired.

100 WARM UP D&D CHARACTER QUESTIONS: DAY 8

What location encountered in the campaign has your character felt the most “at home” in, or just generally liked the most?

Elora

Her mother’s hut in the mountains will always have a special place in Elora’s heart however it how holds a lot of bad memories for her with it being the place her mother was killed. Plus she feels as if she has moved on from that place mentally and emotionally. The groups house in Windham was probably the closest thing Elora has felt as it was the first place that she could truly call her own and felt like she belonged, however that is now gone with the shadow dragon attack. With now living in the palace in Aetreus Elora still feels out of her comfort zone as she is not use to such luxury (the beds are way to soft, why does anyone need a bed this soft?) and she often feels like she is a guest in a hotel that is way too expensive for her. This is probably why she often finds herself bunking up with Ori and Urial or falling asleep in her workshop as she feels she can’t truly make her room her home.

Mimreda

I haven’t been playing Mimreda for long so she has only travelled to one town officially in game. It was a port town called Knives Edge, however, and Mimreda liked it more than enough and they were more than comfortable while they were there before The Choir attacked. They had important connections within the town which meant they were well looked after and she had great fun doing drugs in a brothel with Dru one night so sure ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Jade

Literally nowhere? There hasn’t been a single place the group have travelled where Jade hasn’t felt like they are in immediate danger. There was the abandoned wizard tower which she now has the key for but even there she was made to relive the memory of the wizard killing his animatronic daughter he had created and the group had to bury a dead women and her miscarriaged baby soooo…?

D&December - Entry 6

Week 1, Prompt 6: Magic Casters

Taking a break for Amaranthe today as this prompt seems perfect for my water genasi necromancer Nix, so I wrote a snapshot from her backstory

Ko-Fi 

Nix let her fingers drift over the water, savouring the wet coolness against her skin. She raises her hand, index finger stretched out in a  beckoning motion. A thin tendril lifts away from the surface following her fingers as traces random patterns in the air. 

Her eyes travel upwards, to the horizon of rolling waves. Where her home dwelled. And her family. 

She allows the water to settle back into the ocean. It would not do to dwell on her past. She needs to look ahead, to the future. For now, she is content to reside in the college of Neverwinter, to further cultivate her gifts…but after that. Where then? Home, she supposes, is an option. But she wants to carve her own path forward, and step out from the shadows. She is no longer a child. Perhaps it is time to embrace her independence. 

The sun begins to descend down upon the horizon, painting the sea red. Night would soon fall, and the gates of the college would lock.  

Nix stands, brushing off the damp blades of grass clinging to her trousers before she sets off back to the college. The decisions of her future could wait another day.

Keep reading

My first set of dice I ever bought for myself is this pretty transparent red and yellow set. I love them, but I’m 90% sure they have it in for me. Last dnd session, I rolled not one, not two, but *five* nat 1s. The first two were spaced out, so it wasn’t that bad… The point where I gave up was when I rolled both my d20s to hit for my double attack, to save time, right? Nope, two nat 1s, ok fine I give up. Red and yellow is in dice jail now. Next turn I pull out my second set of dice, roll to attack… nat 1 again. The DM finally chucked one of his sets at me and the rest of the session went smoothly. I’m pretty sure my dice are cursed at this point.

New Players/Characters for Idiot Revenue Service!

Featuring:

Amber, as Umbra, lizardfolk ranger and enthusiastic monster hunter,

Nick, as Fiyero, drow rogue,

Michael, as Nathan Explosion, fallen aasimar bard,

Frank, as Toki, dragonborn bard,

Brandon, as Jar of Bees, tabaxi bard.

All the bards are in a metal band together. Michael and Frank coordinated. Brandon just happened.

Set #9: “Multicoloured” [Oh, me, at the start of my dice collecting hobby. While not an inaccurate descriptor, that was way too broad of a category for any one set to really have claim over]

Set ID: Chessex Festive Rio w/Yellow

Set Assigned Character: Zuri Opalakiir, Half-Elf Sorcerer - Wild Magic; Background - Folk Hero

Overall Character Theme/Inspiration:

Synesthesia.

As I am wont to do, I fell down a rabbit hole on Wikipedia at some point and looked into the various types of synesthesia and thought to myself that the way Sorcerers’ magic is described in the PHB, especially Wild Magic, kind of resembles synesthetes’ experiences trying to communicate their perception of the world to non-synesthetes. And I kept thinking. And I hit on the idea of perhaps someone’s sorcerous magic manifesting through them tapping into the mana/natural magic of the world BECAUSE they somehow perceive the world differently due to how their brain interprets/processes the information it receives.

But of course, it’s not as straightforward as they just see magic and can pluck it from the ether and weave it to their hearts’ content. I mean, in real life, there’s no reason that synesthesia has to have any downsides or detriment to the person with it. But from a storytelling perspective, that’s not necessarily as interesting as there being drawbacks to go with the condition. The same especially applies if I want there to be any sort of gameplay effect - No modifier can be all positive unless the effect is so small as to be negligible.

And so I went through the list of the types of synesthesia and picked a few that I thought would group together in an interesting way as to help Zuri as an adventurer, but also be somewhat detrimental at times. Her ability to perceive and manipulate magic is perhaps related to her synesthesia, but isn’t due solely to it. As there’s no magic in our world, there’s not a real-world equivalent or name for that one, but the others are:

- Grapheme-Colour Synesthesia: Written characters take on colours that drown out natural colours. The colours depend on the whole of the word/grouping of characters [I even tried to create a way to calculate how that might all work for individual words, but that was a bit complicated and ultimately probably unneccesary. Still, might be fun to do at some point - Switch to a Zuri’s point-of-view and have all the words in the colours she sees them as]. Zuri experiences it more strongly with scripts and languages that she is familiar with, and especially with scripts that have characters that are blockier/less fluid when written. Common is very strongly coloured, Elvish is somewhat more faded. Where she recognizes individual characters in Dwarven script, the colours are very strong as well.
- Chromasthesia: Colours associated with sounds. This also grants her perfect pitch, because she can tell very easily which something is off-key due to the visual cue.
     - Drowns out the natural colours of the world
     - Still functions in situations where she is otherwise colourblind
- Auditory-Tactile Synesthesia: Sound triggers certain physical responses. For example, the barking of a dog feels like a twitch in her shoulder.
- Misophonia: Certain sounds trigger strong negative emotions. It’s not one of her more common responses, but it is one of her more troublesome ones. For example, the clinking of coins triggers a very strong disgust response, making her nauseous. For this reason, she has an extra-thick coin pouch to muffle the sound. Tying in with her chromasthesia, the sound has a specific shade of chartreuese that she also considers unpleasant
- Lexical-Gustatory/Olfactory: Certain words trigger certain flavours/scents in her mind (This could also extend to some sounds as well. Like, say, for instance, the coin-clinking sound might have an olfactory component of vomit-smell to it as well. Just for that extra revulsion factor).

So, that’s Zuri’s synesthesia, but who is Zuri, the person?

Well, she’s the product of an unusual family. She’s the youngest daughter of two High Elf artists who decided to travel the world after their youngest son left home to join his older brother and sister as an adult. However, in their travels, they met a thoroughly charming young human warrior from a distant land to the south. She initially joined their tour group as a mercenary/bodyguard, but eventually all three of them became enamored with each other. Oh, it was quite the scandal when Aust and Thia Opalakiir returned home with new foreign, Human wife who had just given birth while making the journey back to their stately home. But the somewhat eccentric artists had long stopped caring what other members of the court thought of them. Their love for their new wife, Quara, and their new daughter, Zuri, was all that mattered. Eventually, Zuri’s older brothers and sisters, who were concerned by the suddenness of it all, realized the sincerity and love in the relationship, and came to dote on their new sister as well. Varis, Mialee, and Aramil, while busy with their own lives, still do care dearly about their sister as she strikes out into the world - Far younger than any of them would have ever dared dreamt to have; but, such is the unfortunate rush she will always have to be in due to her Half-Human nature.

It was early on when the signs of her synesthesia started to manifest. What was initially harmless soon started to take on a more dangerous turn when the things Zuri was experiencing began to stretch out into the world.

Sensations that brought her warmth now caused fire to emanate outward from her.

Fixating on the weirdly green word “mouse” to conjure a swarm of green mice.

Wanting to silence the nauseating jangling of coins creating a bubble wherein no sound could travel at all.

Hearing a word that sounded like a winter wind sending a frosty breeze down the market square.

When the wizards at the court could not teach her to control these powers, she was sent to the academy at the nearest Human city. However, the city’s constant busy-ness just added to her discomfort, and the Human instructors were no less confusing at explaining how they had to trap magic behind words to call it forth. Zuri had always just plucked it, when she wanted to borrow it from the world. Sure, it didn’t always work fully in the way she intended it, but generally it fit better than anything she tried from their way.

So, one night, she just quietly slipped away into a calm, quiet grove. It felt more peaceful, more like home. She saw no need to return to the academy. But she did see the point of trying to understand her abilities better before returning home. She traveled for some time, trying to find the answers. In the relative stillness of the woods, she started to get a relatively more consistent control of her powers.

One day, she happened upon a caravan beset by a terrible beast of some sort. Well, it wasn’t necessarily in her nature to be heroic, but it was less so in her nature to be cowardly. She joined the fighting, and was able to notice a change in the beast’s breathing before it used its breath weapon, allowing her to shout warnings to the other warriors - Allowing them to avoid an attack that had been causing massive damage to them up to that point. With her added help, the beast was slain. She was celebrated as a hero, much to her chagrin. Her career as an adventurer proper had begun.

Song/Mini Playlist:

She’s a Rainbow” by The Rolling Stones

Something about this, admittedly somewhat out-of-character song from The Rolling Stones just sort of sounds like it would resonate a bit with someone who is constantly bombarded by colours appearing in places that they logically should not be appearing. This song would fit well for the more pleasant side of that sort of experience - Happy memories and positive associations.

The Sound of Silence” by Simon & Garfunkel

While this song is usually associated with everything somber and contemplative, usually in the context of mourning a recently deceased loved one, it was re-reading my writing that I had previously done for Zuri [according to the file info, some three or so years ago], that made me think that she really actually would appreciate the “sound” of silence. Instead of having other noises trigger different reactions in her, a truly dark, quiet place that she could focus, meditate, and contemplate things really would sound comforting to her. As someone who now currently has a chronic condition that has triggers that include light and sound, I can appreciate that myself [Okay, yes, I did have this same migraines condition at the time I wrote her backstory originally, it just wasn’t nearly as persistent, aggressive, or  disabling].

Yo so me and my friends

Decided to play dnd and none of us know how to play. Me being myself decided to dm, went out and got dice and the players handbook and then tried to figure it out, we spent a good five hours creating their characters, only one is fully done. The others aren’t even rolled yet. And I forgot I had brought a water bottle into my room (because I accidentally put stuff on top of it and my sense of object permanence is sketchy at best) so..

Throat: sore

Dragons: Dungeoned

I am forcibly sent the fuck to sleep

4

C5 - The Bane of Llywelyn (1985) is the second and final part of the Prophecy of Brie storyline (see yesterday’s post for the first part). We get another Parkinson cover, this one depicting a warrior woman with a boomerang riding a pterodactyl, which kind of clashes with the Celtic theming to this point. But it is awesome, so I don’t care.

In the previous module, the players collected all the magical gewgaws they need to restore an ancient king to life. The first scenario here, The Riddle of Dolmen Moor, concerns locating Llywelyn’s tomb, which they find is sealed with magic by the mage…Ishcabeble. In The Incants of Ishcabeble, the party retrieves that late mage’s spellbook. The third scenario. Llywelyn’s Tombs sees the players navigating the, you guessed it, undead-infested outer tomb of the king.

The final part…gets complicated, with gods, time travel, clones and a parallel dimension.You see, Llywellyn actually only had half a soul…because reasons…and bringing him back brings back his co-ruler Grellyn as well. This attracts the attention of the Celtic gods, one of which has manipulated this whole thing and causes Llywellyn to kill Grellyn, which kills himself as well, which sends both half souls into the cloned body waiting in the parallel world where the daughter of the evil king who split the souls in the first place has been hidden. Oh, and the clone has a hat of disguise that makes him look like a woman. That’d be her on the cover riding the pterodactyl. The ideal resolution is to get the clone to believe that she is actual Llywelyn, bring him back along with the evil king’s daughter, have them get married and found a new dynasty. It is a hard left turn at the very end, but I kind of dig it. But it is a LOT.

A massive, dead tree in the middle of a wasteland. The grave of a fey god.

Weird size, 23x29 squares. Read from the middle at the bottom, then up and clockwise from there, going up to the top of the tree.