The dungeon master described the party stepping through the wizard's portal into the plane of Elemental Chaos. "Before you lies a tempestuous sea of ever-changing terrain and clashing elements. The portal has opened onto a planetoid floating in the sea of shifting energies. Standing a ways away is a giant humanoid figure that seems to be made out of some of the same energies."

"Giant?" Sara asked?

"Yeah, it's like fifty feet tall. Looking upon its face makes your gut wrench as its face is a pool of ever-churning distorted energies. Make a save versus fear."

The players snatched up dice bags. Twenty-sided dice were rolled all around the table, but Mary, sitting to the right of Sara, noticed that Sara hesitated.

"What did you call these things again?" Sara asked. "Primordials? I didn't really imagine that they'd be so ugly or terrifying... or big."

"Oh, fine," the dungeon master responded. "Ambriel the rogue can have advantage on this check. What is your roll?"

Sara picked up an extra dice, tossed them into the bowl on the table and squinted at them in the dim light of the basement. "I got an eight." she said, frowning.

"Sorry, Ambriel and anyone else that got below a ten is afraid of the figure and will be at a disadvantage for initiative. The figure lets out a scream that sounds like an avalanche in a hurricane. Roll initiative!"

"Nineteen!" the boy across the table said. "Fifteen!" said another after rolling some dice. "I have a plus two, and I only got a twelve." said Mary.

"What about you Sara?" the dungeon master asked.

"Um, I don't want to fight it. Can I try talking to it?"

"I guess so," said the dungeon master, frowning. "What will you try saying to it?

"Well first," Sara started, "Is it at its house?"

The dungeon master and the boys across the table erupted into laughter. The dungeon master managed to stop laughing and reply. "These things don't have houses. They just live outside in the chaos."

"Oh." Sara looked disappointed. "I thought they would have houses." and then quieter. "Maybe a family."

The dungeon master laughed again. "What are you going to say to it?"

"I guess I'll say: 'Greetings friend! Do you know which way it is to the Dark Wizard Malik's tower?'"

The dungeon master laughed yet again. "It doesn't seem to understand what you're saying. It screams again and then attacks. Do you have your initiative number yet?"

Mary had been glaring at the dungeon master. He finally noticed her expression and slouched down, a sheepish look crossing his face as if he knew he was going to be in trouble.

Sara frowned, rolled her dice, and then stated "Six."

The party proceeded to fight with the primordial and Sara participated but wasn't really enjoying the situation. After the beast fell the party raced to loot its corpse.

"What did we find?" the boy across the table asked eagerly.

"Nothing, of course!" the dungeon master announced with some glee in his voice. "The primordial's body has evaporated and merged with the endless chaos around you."

"Well that's at least one thing you got right." Sara said.

"What do you mean?" Mary asked.

"Oh, forget it." Sara responded.

The end of the combat signaled the end of the evening since it was already past eight. The friends scooped dice and character sheets back into their bags, cleaned up the snacks, and said their goodbyes for the evening.  Sara walked up the stairs and into the front yard with the other two boys. Chris's mom was there to pick up him and Tyler. She waved at them as they drove away and then started toward her own house just down the street.

The walk was only five minutes, if she took her time, and she had walked this street a hundred times before. She was enjoying the breeze and the crisp night air and didn't notice when the footsteps behind her started. When she noticed them she'd picked up her pace but they grew uncomfortably close. Sara spun around and was faced with a figure in the shadows behind her. It was only a few feet away but she couldn't make out a face.

"What do you want?" She asked the shadow. It did not respond. It did, however, step forward into the glow of the nearby street light. Still, its form appeared like a pitch black hole in the world; a torn place in space the shape and size of a man. The shadow reached toward Sara and she knew that this was an undead being. It had been hoping it could claim the life force of a human this evening; to pull her into the shadow realm and keep her there till she had faded away and become another shadow. Unfortunately for the shadow, she was not a victim that could be claimed so easily.

Sara dropped her book back and grabbed the shadow's arm, glancing down the street to make sure it was clear. Then she released her human disguise and pulled the shadow closer. She stared into the colorless void where its eyes should have been and the shadow stared back into the ever-changing distortion that her face had become. Lightning arced across Sara's skin that now appeared to be made of a roiling mass of stone and waves of pure water.

Sara's outline blurred and her humanoid form faded almost completely, leaving a cloud of elements ever fighting for position, yet she didn't let go of the shadow. The shadow was in a panic now, struggling and desperately trying to free itself from her grasp, to no avail. Sara pulled the shadow inside her cloud and it was ripped and torn by every element until it was gone in just a moment.

Sara concentrated for a moment and reached a human hand out of her cloud of chaos, and picked up her book bag. She formed an arm and shoulder to put the bag on, then a head and some feet and finally squeezed the last bit of her cloud into the shape of a green jacket. "Was she wearing a blue jacket before or a green one?" she asked herself. "I guess it doesn't really matter." she answered, and changed the jacket to blue.

***************************

Sara, Chris and Tyler walked up the stairs out of the basement, leaving Mary and the dungeon master still sitting at the table. The dungeon master was shuffling some papers, his mind racing with ideas for the next session. Mary stared at him, arms crossed and after a moment she finally spoke. "That was mean, Brian."

Brian looked up from his papers. "What?" he asked defensively with a worried look on his face.

"The primordial we met tonight in the game. That wasn't cool." She mocked an imitation of Brian: "It just lives outside in the chaos. Its sooooo ugly and scary." She crossed her arms again and stared daggers at him. Brian was silent and just looked down at his lap.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I thought we were supposed to act like we didn't know..."

"You know she's not going to keep playing with us if you keep being an asshole, right?"

Brian frowned and was quiet.

"Don't you like her playing with us?" Mary continued. "She's a way better rogue than Johnathan was. If she leaves and Johnathan finds out we have room at the table then we might have to let him join the party again. Is that what you want?"

Brian shuddered. "No. I do like her playing with us. She is a pretty awesome rogue." They sat in silence for a minute. "I'll make it better next week. I have some ideas."

"Good." Mary stood up and walked to the stairs. "We'd better not be fighting a changeling or a dragon next week." she said with a laugh.

The outside air was cool and crisp; the twilight had faded already and the streetlights were on. Chris and Tyler had left already; their mom always picked them up. Sara lived at the end of the street. Mary looked down the street toward Sara's house and near the other end of the street she saw Sara, almost home. Mary shivered as she watched as a shadow approached Sara. Mary then watched as Sara discorporated into a chaotic mass of lightning arcs and flame over a roiling mass of rocks and water. In another moment she had absorbed the shadow and it was gone. Those shadows gave her the creeps and she was glad another one was gone. Mary's parents had told her many times how they were lucky to have the Smiths living on their street. "Good girl." Mary whispered as she watched Sara pick up her book bag and put on her human disguise for the rest of her walk home. Mary walked back into the house.

***************************

Sara reached the end of the street, hopped up the porch stair to her front door and walked inside, locking the door behind her. Inside, her mother and father were lounging on the sofa watching a reality TV show together. Her dad waved a friendly tendril of water at her and turned his attention back to the show. Sara's mom floated up and across the room, her pattern of fire and stone indicated concern.

"Is everything okay honey?"

"Well" Sara started slowly. "In tonight's game we finally met a primordial, but the party just killed it. The dungeon master thought it looked scary." Sara dismissed her human disguise, released a small puff of smoke and slouched a bit. "Are they ever going to accept us for who we are?"

Sara's mom wrapped her in a hug. "Your friends do like you dear. It doesn't matter that you don't look like they do."

"Yeah, I guess you're right mom. Thanks." She brightened up a bit, her waves of water crashing in a happy whirlpool. She started up the stairs to her room but halfway up she turned around and said "Oh yeah, I got another shadow on the way home." Her mom, who had already returned to the sofa, crashed a tiny avalanche of stone in approval and then returned to watching the show.

Essentially my friends and I were playing dnd one of my friends parents was dming so my character (we’ll just call them by class for simplicity) happens to be our paladin we have a warlock a ranger and a barbarian so me(paladin) starts riding in a cart with the party our characters don’t know each other and mine said the only thing I could think of:”stuck with idiots for the next week” this then starts a convo with ranger barbarian joins in and then the warlock looks up from his book and says “do you like having lungs” my character being an ice genasi (water and air genasi mixed) says in the most sassy tone I can muster “what lungs” the warlock then says “shit I forgot you don’t have lungs” after that sometime later we were talking to a Halfling woman which the dm mentioned just for ranger to say to her plea for help “of course sir” my character then reminded him that the Halfling was a woman sometime later again were fighting a kobold captain and I throw my shield at him it misses and lands right next to warlocks feet he then picks it up and proceeds to tell everyone that this is his fight and if we interfere any further he’ll kill us after like 10 minutes the kobold captain is almost dead warlock is unconscious and our ranger who hasn’t been able to hit anything all session shoots his arrow up and says “god let this hit someone” it speared the kobold captain right through the chest his last words being “I can’t believe I’m losing to these idiots” more happened but it wasn’t as funny I might post again I dunno

The party I'm dm-ing have just exited the castle they where stuck in for the entire campaign with a sceptre which gains power the more you kill (sounds broken, but it was just before the final boss so the only way to power up would be through spawns from the final boss). They then came face to face with a cosmic deity know as the mimic lord, a 200hp Goliath ready to bring hell on the party. I had just made one of the friendly NPC's helping them... "Fall"... It was just the 2 players, a sceptre, and a demonic floating demigod. This one character had a broken homebrew class known as "the rock mage" which had power over rocks, used strength as a casting modifier and could both create, manipulate or command rocks, stones and pebbles alike. Now, my original idea was they'd try to manipulate the rock platforms they where standing on to attack the demigod... But... Rocky: so... We're outside, yes? Me, oblivious: yeah... R: and it's night, yes? Me: yes, what are you- R: great, I throw the moon at the enemy Me:... Nat 20 Me: you... Deal 100 damage, obliterate the platforms, and probably kill half the F*cking population. R: so... Since I have the sceptre, would I not gain +1 modifier for everyone I killed? Me: (realises I should not have said that) Safe to say, the rock mage dealt 9.5 TRILLION damage his next turn by simply throwing JUPITER'S MOONS AT IT!!! ALL 95!!! My brother, the second of the party, officially banned the rock mage class after, the fabled reverse-end-of-portal-2 incident

Hello reddit, first post on this sub and it is a juicy one!

I just played a session, literally finished like two hours ago, and I am still clutching my head because of this, it is INSANE.

For starters, let me give you some context. Our party consists of four players, but for the purposes of this story, you only need to know about my character, since she is the most involved in this fiasco. She is a drow warlock, her name is Ophellia, she doesn't know who her patron is and her patron has not communicated with her at all pretty much since she first got her powers as a child, and she is a very grumpy standoffish lady. Our story takes place on a continent called Areth, and since coming her, Ophellia's patron has spoken up for the first time in about a century, giving her the quest of going to this mountain which our party found out, through visions given to us by a massive homebrew monster called the nightmare, has a massive fuck off dragon locked inside it.

So what happened. We reached this mountain after several arcs leading purely to this. We go inside, stuff happens (not too relevant here), and we find the chamber where the dragon should hypothetically be. Instead, inside, we find a corpse. And Ophellia recognises this corpse.

Something else I haven't told you about this campaign, is that it is based off of a book that my bf (the DM) is writing. In this book, a man by the name of Valefar is involved in a massive rebellion against an immortal dictator queen, and one of the people working for this queen is Ethelric/Darksky, a man who can shapeshift into a dragon (and the dragon we were sent to the mountian to investigate). In the book, Valefar dies after trapping Ethelric in the mountain, because Ethelric is effectively immortal, so this was their only solution. In the context of this campaign, this happened a couple centuries ago, and essentially no one knows about it. I thought Valefar'd death wasn't canon in the campaign, BECAUSE HE IS ALIVE DURING IT.

In the campaign, Ophellia knows Valefar. She trained with him, until she had a big falling out with the group he was a part of (the messengers). She is looking for these messengers (because she is a mean lady who likes to hold a grudge), and last I heard, a couple months ago, Valefar was prancing around an area of the continent called the Wastelands. So, he was VERY MUCH ALIVE.

AGAIN, Ethelric being trapped in this mountain and Valefar's death happened CENTURIES AGO. I don't know what any of this means. I am worried. I am scared. So many of my previous theories have now been burned to ash. My bf wont give me any clues apart from cryptic weird bullshit. I am so excited for next session. I cannot contain myself and will be thinking about this for the foreseeable future. I will be insufferable.

So that's that. The session ended with the dragon Darksky, who was in the room all along, burried under some rubble, opening his eye and staring at us. Is he evil? Possibly. Could he kill us? Easily. Are people telling us to not release him from his mountain prison ever under any circumstance? Certainly.

Am I still probably going to release him? Well I certainly want to. He is cool and he is my pookie - and we accept any wrongs a hot dragon man NPC may have done. I will defend him with my life.

From the beginning...

Cast

Part 2, Chapter 8

Conferring briefly, Arthur strides across the bridge [1].  Before he gets halfway across, a voice rings out.  “HALT.  Come no further.  We want nothing from you, and have nothing for you.  Depart peaceably.”  The voice is feminine, with a thick rural Damaran accent, not so dissimilar to Arthur’s.

Arthur comes to a stop.  “We come in peace.  We just want to know what is going on.  We’re on a mission from the Council of Thanes in Ironspur.  This is their forge.”

“No dwarves here.  It’s ours now.  You need know nothing more.  Away!”

Arthur withdraws to the group, where suddenly Zander notices that Dillium has disappeared.  One thing at a time.  “Perhaps if we paid a toll.” Zander suggests.

“We’ll pay a toll to cross the bridge and converse.”  Arthur booms.

“How much?”

“How much do you want?”

“Three figures.  Leave it on the bridge.”

“We’ll give you a hundred pieces of silver.”

There is no reply.  Through the haze of the heat and ash, the outlines of the people on the other side of the chasm appear to be lined up.

“Are you with the dragon?” Novos calls out.

“Of course not!  He’s taken our people.  Are you?”

“No. He stole our elf!”  Zander calls out.

“We just want to look around,”  Novos adds.  He takes a few steps toward the bridge, but a dagger sails out of the darkness and misses Novos’ foot by … well, several feet.

“Go away!”

The argument goes back and forth.  Daggers are thrown until the unknown assailant runs out or gets tired, then crossbow bolts are launched.  Novos takes cover behind Zander, who good-naturedly holds his shield out in protection.  After several shots, Novos makes out the shape of a shooter above and to his left.  Aiming carefully, he fires back with his bow.

“Look, we’re coming across.  I’ll give ten gold pieces to anyone who lays down arms and talks.” Novos announces.

“Don’t you dare!” the voice cuts through, though it looks like the shapes of people on the other side of the chasm are less decided.  Several low conversations break out, and though nobody can make out the words, the tones range from willing to harsh.

Zander decides to take a position on the bridge.  This of course means Novos is a clear target again, though it’s hard to make out anything through the haze and the crossbow bolts miss more frequently than they hit.

***

A pebble rolls across the floor and nudges Dillium’s foot.  Looking around, she sees the redheaded young human put his finger to his lips in a universal "don't scream" gesture, then he beckons her over away from the party.  Novos has disappeared again, and everyone else is intent on trying to see through the heat waves and ash rising from the river of red gelatinous goop.  Zander or Felicity are busy arguing with the voice, so slipping away from the group, Dillium ducks around the corner with the man. 

Up close, she sees he has a misshapen face and is slightly stooped.  Looking at his eyes, she decides he sees poorly--if at all--from his left eye.  His complexion is ruddy in a way that nearly obscures the freckles all over his face and neck, and his shocking red hair seems nearly too bright to be natural.  Now that she gets a good look at him, Dillium thinks he might be near his thirtieth year.  For all of being a bit hunch-backed, he doesn't seem to have any problem moving around.  His low voice speaks to habitual whispering.

"You are of Ilmater?  My gran said that a cleric in a horse-hair shirt saved his life after the battle at Goliad Ford [2].  He would give coppers to the monks that came through, and often gave them food.  Can I trust you?"

The simple sincerity in his voice, and his look of concern and dread touch Dillium, and she nods.  He beckons her further away from the group, but he doesn't seem to have any weapons on him so she follows.  Slipping silently back through the rubble of the half-collapsed hall, the pair returns to the cell where the dead are still chained to the wall.  He pays them no mind.  He does leave the door open a sliver, though.  Seating himself on the floor next to a burned-out fire, he speaks.

"My name is Febis.  Look, I'm sorry for before.  He doesn't like visitors, and I can't just go and tell the Hand that they can't use this place for their hide-out anymore.  We only just got here when he showed up.  He's not bad, once you get to know him.  He sometimes brings me food if he killed too many sheep, and he doesn't come in this part of the cavern because he can't turn around right.  Only you can't insult him or he gets very mad, and he sometimes can't control his temper.  It really just would be better if you and your friends go."

Too many "he's" and "they's" for her to sort out.  It's like Febis assumes she already knows who they all are.  “Slow down, and start over,” Dillium says gently.  “Who is ‘he’?”

Febis says that ‘he’ is a monstrous red dragon that calls himself The Mighty Flamestrike.  He arrived in a blast of wind and a clatter of claws on the stone floor, and he made himself at home in the main hall.  He likes the heat from the lava, and sometimes lays down on top of it, sinking slowly into it.  During one of the recent earthshakes part of the roof caved in, and Flamestrike took up residence high up in some hollowed-out caves near the ceiling.  Febis has never been up there, but Flamestrike sometimes leaves in the evening to go hunting, and returns before dawn.

Febis is a member of the Dread Order of the Ebon Hand, the most dangerous gang of bandits this side of the Assassin's Citadel.  What do you mean you've never heard of them?  They have been the most feared bandit gang in the country's history.  Although, he hastens to add, he's only been with the gang since he left home in Helmsdale this spring.  He hated being a farmer and he can't ride a horse [3] (and some of the soldiers made fun of him), so there really isn't anything else for him to do.

The Hand found the entrance to this cavern complex two or three months ago, and they moved in.  It makes a great base to bandit from.  Cletus says that it was carved out by dwarves.  Fatima, the captain of the Hand, has been working on getting the place cleaned up, and is looking to be able to give everyone their own areas in which to live.  That was easier before Flamestrike came along.  Since his arrival, the Hand have been hiding in terror from the dragon, who sometimes plays with them "like a cat with a mouse", blowing fire down the corridor and making the whole complex shake.  Fatima has been trying to get them to attack Flamestrike, but the last time they tried, Willie and Franso were badly burned and pelted with rocks dropping from the ceiling.  Father Michael took days to heal them all the way back to health.

Febis himself was the second of the Hand caught by the dragon, but instead of eating him, the dragon talked to him, and made friends with Febis.  Now Febis comes and goes as he pleases, but he knows that the dragon's temper is such that he could end up as a snack if he crosses The Mighty Flamestrike.

***

Novos does the thing where he disappears.  Zipping across the chasm, he notes that there are nearly a dozen “thugs”, along with some armored war mastiffs.  Bedrolls and a cot line one wall, and a makeshift cook stove is in the back corner.  An archway leads off into the darkness.  The thugs are not particularly ready for battle—they are indifferently armored and have a bevy of non-uniform weapons, but none of them have them raised as if they were ready to use them.  There are several debates ongoing, and two of the thugs are wrestling.

Returning to the group, Novos quickly gives a report.  Arthur asks Zander to move, and he leads the way across the bridge.

“CEASE!”  A ripple flows through the Weave as a spell is cast, and the two wrestlers climb to their feed sheepishly.  Before they know it, the entire party is on their side of the chasm, face to face.

“Go AWAY!  WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE.  You are invading our home!”  A crossbow bolt accompanies the demand, but it misses everyone.  Without the heat shimmer, Novos can finally make out his assailant through what appears to be an opening above and to the right of the large cave.  She is peering out behind a large metal structure with carvings etched on it.

The thugs are still bickering amongst themselves to some extent, but only a few of them tentatively raise their weapons.

Another ripple in the Weave, and the thugs generally calm down, losing some of the edge in their bickering.  Unfortunately, nothing calms the shooter, who manages to put a bolt into Novos.  Novos shoots back, hitting the woman.  In response, the several of the bandits reach out to stop Novos from attacking their captain.

***

“My friends and I are here at the request of the dwarves in Ironspur.  They are worried that someone here was attempting to restart the forge, which is…  haunted or something?  They didn’t get into details.  Have you seen it?”

"Forge?  I don't know about that, but there is a big iron thingy up near where Fatima beds down.  It kinda’ looks like something Jeran the Smith from my village might use.  We don't do anything with it, but it's useful to put stuff on when we're eating.  I mean, there's no chairs or nothin, but we can stand up and eat.  Sometimes we just eat near the campfire, though."

"So, you aren't working the forge, or trying to craft things?" Dillium asks patiently.

"Gerk sometimes uses it to bang the dents of armor pieces, or to try to sharpen swords and stuff, but he doesn't have a hammer, so normally he just uses an iron bar to smack the back of armor piece.  Sometimes it works."

Dillium explains that some of the people in Damara are worried about another war with Vaasa (“like the one with the Lich King”), and they are looking for allies who are willing to lend aid.   Perhaps the Hand would like to assist?

Febis tells her in his own simple way that most of the men don’t want to be in a war.  They’ve seen the soldiers in Helmsdale with their shiny armor and fancy horses, and they don’t have any of that stuff.  “Being in a battle sounds dangerous.  Besides, that sounds like we’d have to stop banditing, and that’s kinda’ fun sometimes.  Maybe some of the guys might want to go legit, but Fatima just wants to keep us safe.”

“You know, the Hand could become an adventuring or mercenary group too. That way you all could be making money by completing different contracts. While it may not be as fun as being a bandit, it’s more sustainable for you all,” Dillium reasons. 

"Don't you have to get a paper from the queen to be a mercenary group?  And aren't those hard?  I heard there was a group that had to fight like a whole lot of orcs once [4].  That's almost like being in a battle."

“Hmm.  I guess I could see that, though there may come a time when you have to decide which side you’re on, just like your gran did.”  After a pause to collect her thoughts, Dillium continues.  She wonders aloud why the dragon likes Febis more than the others, and if there is a way to make everyone happy—to perhaps speak to Flamestike, to free the Hand from his torment, and for them to look over the forge for the dwarves.

"I don't know why he likes me more than the others.  Maybe he's just lonely.  Maybe it's on account of my hair being the same color as he is.  Maybe it's because I don't call him names and stuff.  Sometimes he comes out and talks to me about his brothers and how he's going to get his revenge on them all some day.  Delfus used to talk to me that way when we lived in Helmsdale.  His pa used to beat him when he didn't milk the cow in the morning, or dropped the egg basket.  Delfus and I are good friends.  He's the one who convinced me to join the Hand."

“What happened with his brothers that makes him want revenge on them? Who are his brothers?”  Despite her need to keep on track, Dillium’s curiosity overcomes her.

"Oh, he doesn't like to talk about them.  I guess brother stuff?  I only have sisters, and they are annoying.  Perhaps they called him names, or didn't want to use his whole name.  Maybe they fart in the nest.  Do dragons have nests?  I heard that they lay eggs..."

***

Wordlessly, the party springs into action.  There is a ripple in the Weave, and half of the bandits fall to the floor in a deep slumber, their war dogs with them.  Arthur strides through the sleeping bodies to one who didn’t go down, and he slashes him from shoulder to hip.  Momentarily surprised, the man falls to the floor, lifeless.  His dog growls.  Zander steps forward to face off against two other bandits.  Two quick slashes and they fall to the floor.  Novos disappears, then makes his way up to the opening where the crossbow shooter is taking aim at Felicity.  She misses.  The remaining bandit gestures, the Weave ripples from him, and a bolt of light streaks across the room to smash into Arthur’s back.  The dog snaps at Arthur but misses.  Novos reappears and stabs the crossbow-wielding woman in the back. Enraged, she pulls out a saber and slashes in vain at Novos.  Before Novos can stab her again, Felicity pulls out a wand and fires an arc of electricity at the woman, killing her.  The one-sided battle is over. 

Quickly, Arthur and Zander bind up the four slumbering bandits and their war dogs.  Felicity reaches into her purse and slides some gold into each of their coin pouches.

***

Novos peers around.  He’s seen forges before, and this looks something like one, except instead of a standard coal-fired furnace, there is a trickle of red-hot lava, dribbling down a hole in the wall and forming a small rivulet through a makeshift furnace before falling off down the side of the cavern wall and into the lava river below.  The forge area is cleaned out.  There are pegs on the walls, presumably for tools, but they are bare, as are a pair of stout metal tables.  Shrugging, Novos heads down a set of stairs and through a dark hallway.  Some distance down, he spies a darker alcove, and in that alcove, a doorway.  Pushing open the door, he sees bags, boxes, and barrels.  One bag has conveniently fallen over, spilling its contents of coins onto the floor.  “Hey! I found something!”  He shouts.

***

"He doesn't much like visitors.  I don't think he wants to talk to anyone.  It's too bad they can't get along.  Maybe The Mighty Flamestrike could go out with the Hand and help them find wagons to bandit, and then perhaps he could eat the horses after we bring the wagons back and get all the stuff?  I don't think he wants to do that, though.  It would be nice if all my friends could get along.  Fatima would love to have a real dragon helping.  I bet we could bandit like two wagons at a time!"

Dillium responds.  "If we could help the Hand find a new place to live, how would they get out without ... Flamestrike—"

Febis interrupts. "The Mighty Flamestrike.  He likes you to use his whole name."

"Fine, the mighty Flamestrike--"

"No, no.  You're not doing it right.  You have to use the whole thing.  The Mighty Flamestrike.  Here, you try it.  The Mighty Flamestrike."

"The Mighty Flamestrike." 

"Good!  I knew you was smart!"  Dillium sighs heavily.

"So, if my other friends and I could find a new place for the Hand to live, and perhaps a job so they could go legit, how would they get out of here without The Mighty Flamestrike eating them?"

"I suppose they could wait until he goes out to hunt, then leave real quick like in the middle of the night.  He wouldn't be here to eat them, and if they went far away before dawn he wouldn't get them."

"You keep saying 'they'.  Wouldn't you want to go with the Hand?"

"Yeah!  I mean, I would be sad that The Mighty Flamestrike wouldn't have any friends left.  Maybe he would let me come back and visit him?"

“I don’t really understand why he keeps the Hand here if he doesn’t like them.. but I am sure that he would be happy to have a friend like you visit him if the Hand does leave. It does seem like it would be lonely here in the mountains by himself…”  Dillium trails off, waiting on a response.

“I think he lets the Hand stay here for something to do, but he really doesn't keep them here.  They are just ascared of him on account of the breathing fire and all. 

“I think I would like to come and visit him sometimes.  Maybe I could bring him a sheep.  He likes sheep."

***

Just as they are finishing tying up the bandits, they begin to wake.  “Wha…  what happened?”  One of them sees Zander puling the dead and bleeding bodies off to the side. “Murderers!  You murdered them!”  “They killed Willie!”  “You Bastards!”  “Look, they murdered the Captain!”

“Arthur addresses them.  “Hush.  You are alive.  That is enough.  You attacked us, and we responded.”

“You murdered them in cold blood!” one of the braver bandits spits.

“If your captain is now dead, who’s the new captain of your company?” Zander asks.

“uh…..”

“Cletus!”  “What? I don’t want—” “Cletus is!” “But I don’t—”

“Fine.  Do you give your parole?  If so we shall untie you.”  Arther towers above the one that responded as Cletus.

“I don’t even have a payroll yet.  How do I…”  Felicity unties the group.  Climbing to their feet, they leave the ropes on the ground.  Blood coats the floor from the dead, and Zander’s dragging activity has spread around even more blood.

“Hey! I found something!” shouts Novos.  His voice sounds like it comes from the archway to the left.  Arthur tells Felicity and Zander to stay with the bandits while he goes to see what is the matter.

***

Dillium pauses for a second.

“Febus… are you by any chance the Mighty Flamestrike?”

"Me?  No!  He's my friend.  He's big and beautiful and scary and eats people.  I'm just...  me.  Besides, he's all big and scaly.  I'm not scaly!"  He pauses a moment.

"Sometimes I dream about flying, though."

“Ah, sorry. It’s just that the Mighty Flamestrike isn’t the only dragon we’ve encountered in our journey. I know you’ve said plenty of times before that the Mighty Flamestrike doesn’t like visitors and after what happened I understand. I’d like to apologize to him on behalf of my friends.”  Dillium takes a deep breath.  “They attacked him… do you think he’ll let me try to heal him? Being able to create some form of middle ground between us all would be beneficial, don’t you think? I may be able to convince my party to leave…”

"It's **T**he Mighty Flamestrike.  You have to say his name right if you ever want to talk to him." Febis mutters under his breath, "Man, I thought elfs were supposed to be smart."

"Anyway, they attacked The Mighty Flamestrike?  And they're still alive?  How many of them got burned up?  How can you heal a big giant dragon like that?  I thought they had to have an arrow in them or something for you to heal him?  If he's hurt he's probably going to be very cross indeed.  I don’t know if he will want to talk at all, but I guess we could try..."

“Well, there’s no harm in trying right? Do you think you can try to help me meet The Mighty Flamestrike?”

"There IS harm in trying.  If he's mad, he'll just fire us, and fire us good.  Or drop us in the hot rocks.  He can do that.  I could see if he wants to come down, but I don't know if he will."

“If you could please, that would mean a lot to me… I can meet him on my own unless you’d like to join me, but if you’re worried about getting flamed then I don’t blame you. I’d like a chance to right the wrongs that have happened today. Perhaps we should meet him in a room more accessible for him…”

***

Arthur appears in the doorway as Novos looks around the dimly lit room.  “Loot!  I’m sure this will pay some bills.”

“We’ll need to figure out how to get all this out of here—”

“Ahem.”  A voice from behind Arthur.  “I’ll have you know that this is the lawfully acquired possessions of the Hand, and are not for you to go carting it all off.  I know exactly how much is in here, and I won’t see you take a copper, do you hear!  We know our rights!”

Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose.  This has the makings of an even longer day.

A couple of the remaining members of the bandits pile into the room.  “Hey! Keep your hands off our stuff.  It’s ours!”

Arthur turns on his heel and heads back toward the main room, but … something isn’t right.  The wall along the corridor is caved in, but there’s something…  odd.  Climbing up on top of the pile, he notices heat and light coming through a crack.  He pulls some rubble away and can clearly see another room beyond.

“Hey, that stuff in there is ours, too!”  Cletus says.

***

"Oh, he won't go any further than the main hall.  He doesn't want to get stuck, and he can't turn around very well in the smaller rooms."  Febis pauses for a moment.  "How will you keep from getting fired?  He might be very angry."

Dillium pats his arm.  “I’ll figure something out.”

"I could go out and call him and see if he will come down, I guess."

“To be completely honest Febus the only thing I have to protect myself from the flames is hope and faith. Is the main hall where the rest of my friends are? I have instinctual knowledge that if they are there then this whole plan won’t work… I really do appreciate you doing this for me. It’s very kind of you.”

"Is instinctual knowledge some fancy elf thing, or a fancy priest thing?”

“Hmm I would say the instinctual knowledge has come from spending nearly every waking moment of my journey so far with roughly the same people… their habits are frighteningly predictable and in some cases, suicidal.”

Febus nods.  “Do you need to rest, or uhm... eat a last meal or something?"

Dillium sighs.  “While rest and a meal would be great, I fear that time is not our friend.”

***

Pulling enough of the rubble away to fit his bulk through, Arthur scrapes his armor on the rock as he slides down into the next room.  This one is very hot, and is dimly lit by a seeping pool of lava in the corner.  After a moment, Novos slides down next to him.  “Whatcha find?” he asks unnecessarily.

A head pokes up from the lava.  Then another.  Sensing fresh food, a group of bulky snake-like creatures slither out of the lava pool and make their way over to Arthur and Novos.  Soundlessly they attack.  Arthur slashes, but is badly burned by the heat given off by the creatures.  Novos too tries to slash with his dagger, but the heat is too much.  He falls back behind Arthur.  Arthur calls out for aid, and with a mighty hack and a movement of the Weave, a tremendous roar of thunder smashes through the snakes, temporarily deafening everyone, including the two bandits who have followed.

“All our stuff.”  Cletus intones when he can hear again.

***

“What was that?” Felicity asks in alarm.

“Dunno.  Let’s find out,” Zander replies.  The two race toward the pile of rubble in the corridor.

***

Febis stands.  "If you're sure I can't talk you out of it..."  He opens the door and steps through it.

Suddenly a huge thunder blast echoes through the cavern.  It is definitely not a cave-in, or the clash of rock on ... anything, but rather the sound of a huge lightning strike hitting nearby.  The sound is briefly deafening.  It sounds like it came from the cavern where the Hand was last seen, rather than the direction of the main hall.  There's the sound of distant yelling from the same direction.

Febis is startled.  He looks off in the direction of the party (and his friends).  "Oh, that's not good."  Moments later, there is a roar from the direction of the main hall.  "Very not good."

“Febis I believe you and I share the very same sentiment there-  Uhhh change of plans. Let’s make sure our friends here don’t kill each other. Stay close to me, sound good?”

***

The eight humans look around.  Apart from the lava pool and the very hot corpses of the snake creatures (everyone moves away from them), the room contains what Arthur, Novos and Zander identify as grave goods.  They are similar to the urns, carvings, and paintings in the tomb they invaded in Ironspur.  In fact, there is a fancy dwarven sarcophagus and an ornate hammer atop.  Across is the carved family tree that stretches for nearly a thousand years, ending nearly three centuries before (in the dwarven calendar).  Taking it all in, Arthur’s eye catches on some oddity.  A misalignment of patterns on one wall.  “Secret door,” he says.  Novos checks quickly for traps, then pushes open the door.

Inside, two carved stone dwarves shamble to life.  Raising their bronze axes, they silently stalk toward Novos and Arthur as Zander and Felicity look on in horror.

***

Grabbing Febis by the hand, Dillium quickly but cautiously makes her way back down the corridor.  She passes through the outer chamber with the well that leads down to lava, and sees the rickety wooden bridge over the chasm that is still producing heat haze and ash.  Nobody is visible on the other side.  Quickly she slips across the bridge and into chaos.

Blood covers the floor. The dead bodies of several of the Hand, along with their war mastiffs, are pushed over to one side.  Several ropes cut into ten or twelve foot lengths lie on the floor.  Looking around, she sees a large room.  A campfire and makeshift cooking stove are in the far corner.  Bedrolls and a cot line one wall.  There's what appears to be some sort of shrine along the back wall.  An archway on the opposite wall leads off into darkness.

"DELFUS!  What happened?"  Febis runs over to the corpse of his childhood friend, slashed from shoulder to hip by a single broad stroke.  The last of his blood pools on the floor, but the blood strewn across the floor makes it very much appear that he and the others were dragged from another part of the room.  "And Gerk!  And Father Michael!"  Tears pour down Febis' face as he comes to grips with the loss of his only (human) friends, apparently savagely butchered.  Sitting down on the cold floor oblivious to the standing blood, Febis cradles the lifeless head of his friend.

Meanwhile, the muffled sounds of battle are heard through the open archway.

"I thought you were going to be my friend," Febis cries to Dillium bitterly.

Dillium quickly checks the bodies.  All have been dead for ten or fifteen minutes, beyond a simple revival.  Dillium leaves Febis to his grief and dashes toward the open archway.  On the other side is a moderately-sized room with rubble strewn around.  It appears that one wall has collapsed.  There is a hole at the top where some of the rubble has been pushed away, leaving a man-sized space to squeeze under the lintel of a hidden doorway.  There is a dim red light (so, more lava), and voices.  Dillium hears the sound of metal on stone and the grunts of men in battle.  Scampering lightly up the pile of loose stones and rubble, she scootches through the hole at the top, sliding down the other side.  There she finds several unknown people who are watching Arthur, Zander, and Novos in battle.  As she arrives, the last of some sort of animated stone statues crumble to pebbles.  Arthur's armor is scorched down one side, and he limps slightly.  Novos is barely on his feet, and as Dillium arrives, he sinks to his knees, panting.  Zander sheathes his sword, and Felicity puts away a wand.  Three grubby men and what might charitably be called a woman (under many layers of dirt and grime) stand around, unarmed. 

"Now you remember, all this is the lawful property of our company.  You don't go gettin light fingers now," says one of the Hand in the most "southern drawl" Damaran accent ever.

End of Chapter 8

[1] Based very loosely on Fire Forge Caves by Dungeon Baker in FiveE magazine  https://www.drivethrurpg.com/en/product/367470/fivee-magazine-august-2021

[2] https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Ford_of_Goliad

[3] The duke has a company of cavalry barracked just outside Helmsdale.

[4] Probably too far away for it to have been the party, back when they were called Dragon Force in Chapter 32.  On the other hand, maybe it was?

The Embodiment of Trickery rewarded my character with a "regenerating potion" for a quest I had done to aid one of their chosen through deception without speaking a single lie, or violating my Oath as a paladin, what they considered the highest form of trickery. The issues were A) the potion was a bit gelatinous rather than the usual liquid the GM described other potions as and B) it was given by Trickery and bore their mark sealing the bottle. Naturally I assumed it was a self healing slime of some kind and kept it in reserve for emergencies if I needed a monster in my back pocket later.

A ton of sessions, 8 levels, go by without me ever using it until finally our party is getting our ass kicked by a vampire lord that is turning one of our NPC allies and I need a massive distraction to keep the vampire occupied while our wizard teleports the whole party, plus the would be new vampire, to safety. I say a prayer to Trickery and uncork the bottle they gave me, hurling the gelatinous potion at the vampire's face. The GM starts laughing as he struggles to tell me what the potion actually was. It was a special potion of healing that scaled to the highest level Cure Wounds a cleric of my level could cast, that regenerated itself every dusk. The entire time I could have had a free extra healing every day, but I didn't trust any magic we had to pierce an illusion created by a god so I never even bothered trying to identify it. However, as this was 3.5 when Cure spells harmed undead, the GM ruled that the positive energy released from fracturing a divinely crafted item with that powerful of an enchantment forced the vampire to dissipate into mist and flee back to it's coffin to regenerate, so my plan still worked in a roundabout way and only cost me one of the most powerful magic items I had acquired up until that point.

Started my first campaign a bit over year ago. We were in water deep and on a mission to blow up the Xanathar layer. We succeeded but lost our cleric. I played a deep gnome arcane trickster who lost his memories and was trying to find out about his past. I obtained a cursed dagger that was corrupting me but slowly revealing my past. The abyssal demon that was corrupting me said I could save the cleric by killing another party member. My character considered doing it but once he realized how far he's been corrupted and that he was considering killing one of his friends he turned the knife on himself and plunged it into his heart killing himself and selling his soul to the abyssal demon inside the knife but in return reviving the cleric. Even though my character never found out about his past the sacrifice was a great ending to his story and his character arc in going from selfish to selfless.

I was the dm for my groupe of friends. They were a paladin, rogue, cleric and fighter. They were in the sewers and they meet an evil necromancer. They fight and start losing. I was playing for them to lose and escape to come back stronger and give them as players motivation to fight the bbeg. All the players escaped except for the rogue. Rogue says to the party that he has a plan and for everyone else to escape. Everyone dose but the rogue. Player asks me how stinky the place smells and how well is the air circulating. I say that is horrible and there is almost no airflow. Rogue with a fire bolt spell scroll that I gave him earlier cast it and say to me “so since there is almost no air flow the methane should explode if I allowed it” I roll a 1d100 to see if I should allow it. After I described how he destroyed the entire sewer system and the bbeg with himself.

This is why I love DND

I once (as a player) killed one of my party members by dropping them out of the sky cause our DM made the mistake of giving us a cat UFO. Best campaign ever. (We revived him and then I killed him accidentally again by throwing him too hard) (he was a 2in tall 7 ft wide dwarf who once used a bodily gas to fly into the air. Crazy campaign) (somehow I was the only person in our party with a weapon) (everyone was stealing stuff from eachother) it was utter chaos.

If you got any question on how our campaign went, lmk I’ll answer them!

Context (B=brother, ED=Evil Dude, ROO=rizzard of Oz).

I'm the DM for a campaign on a series of dungeons ran by a cult. For this particular session, my party went under the floor to do 3 quests to get to the ground floor of the castle. There was a Musium puzzle where one of the 4 exhibits where a mimic and the party had to guess of of context clues. Instead of focusing on the FOSSIL WITH EYES, ED focused on the child rock golem in the corner (this is homebrew and this golem was roughly in 1st grade ranges) where he tried to rapier pierce the golem and hit a 5. B, being chaotic good, healed the golem and confronted ED. ED turned to me and this conversation occured: ED: I cast true polymorph on B Me: (confused) ok, into what ED: a go cart! Nat 20 B: Welp... After the fight B:CHANGE ME BACK!!! (Bear in mind, the entire mimic fight was B and ED fighting on if the child should die while ROO used the homebrew spell "vicious rizzery" to seduce every one of those mimics to boney pulpsq) ED: fine! I cast true polymorph on B Me: back into a- ED: into a carrot. 17 B: confused screaming

My group is doing a survival campaign on a cursed island and I made a druid that wants to study the fauna and flora.

My current animal kill count is currently: 45,020+

We learned that holy water reacts explosively with the land due to some “blight” sickness. Naturally I wild-shaped and dropped a barrel of holy water in the middle of a “blight pool” area. My DM described it as a “tactical nuke” explosion with at least 45,000 deaths to all nearby fauna.

There was another instance in which we were trying to outrun an avalanche, i upcast the spell Conjure Animals and summoned 16 Zebras for my party and an additional party we had with us. Every single one but one died from one DC 19 Dexterity Save. Only one lived and I had to “yoshi jump” off him to save myself as we jumped across a chasm.

I have killed a few more hostile monsters and animals that my druid feels horrible about but my party is dying of laughter about it.

From the beginning...

Cast

Part 2, Chapter 7

 “Maybe we should offer him money.  He looks poor, and poor people usually like money.”  Zander opines.

“I don’t think you can afford me,” the young man says, slightly nervously.  He shuffles a foot.  “You should just go.”

“Just gives us a moment, would you?” Arthur asks, raising his hand in a vaguely placating way.  The team withdraws to the far end of the wide stone porch.  The porch acts as an entryway to the tunnel beyond the odd young human with red hair.  The archway is large and imposing, and is covered with random scratched runes, like graffiti.  The porch likewise is etched and carved, but in a more artistic manner.  There is a single stone step that encircles (ensquares?) the stone slab that acts as a porch, and a few stone steps that lead up to the porch before they disappear into the dirt and weeds of the slight rise.  The porch is not large, but the team steps back to the edge and speaks in low whispers. 

“We should just go,” Dillium whispers. “We don’t need anything from here.”

“We have given our word to the dwarves.  Well, the one dwarf. [1]  He seemed to think bad things would occur should the forge was re-kindled,” Arthur replies in a low voice.  Does Arthur even know how to whisper?

“Shouldn’t we have asked why the forge was abandoned to begin with?” whispers Zander.

“I say we don’t go in, but we set up camp right here until he goes away,” says a somewhat less frightened but still intimidated Novos.

With that, the team splits up, directs the squires to set up a camp with the animals some distance down the hill, and pulls out the pavillionsol.  Opened up, it takes up much of the porch, but it gives the group a chance to go inside to discuss matters.  They don’t make much progress, and suddenly Arthur realizes that nobody is actually watching the man or the area.  Rushing outside, he and Dillium look around to see that things are largely they way they were before they went into the tent.  Dillium returns inside and continues the argument, but Arthur walks a couple of laps around the porch, peering suspiciously at everything around.  He does note that even though the pavillionsol appears to be only canvas, he’s unable to hear the party’s voices, or for that matter, the string quartet that constantly plays inside.  He also notes that the red-headed man has disappeared, probably back inside.  Arthur peers down the tunnel, but sees nothing of any interest.  The corridor, some twenty feet wide and thirty or thirty-five feet tall, appears to be carved by dwarven hands, with a smooth floor and walls, arching gracefully up to a rounded ceiling.  While there are occasional scratches on the walls that indicate some sort of graffiti, much of the wall is bare, with only a pattern similar to the porch to break up the monotony.  No sign of the young man.  Returning to the pavillionsol, he pokes his head inside the tent to give the all-clear.

Meanwhile, the party, from the security of their tent, have decided that they might build a campfire and roast some particularly delicious food, then invite the young man to dinner once he is lured by the savory smells.  Dillium points out that there are really no trees or wood to build a fire, and the debate begins anew.

While yet another round of debate begins, the ground shakes uncontrollably, knocking people to the ground.  A reasonable group might conclude that the ground in the area was unstable and wonder what might be causing it.  This group [2] decides that either some unknown force wants them to get a move on, or that the young redhead is upping the ante. 

Novos takes things into his own hands.  Disappearing, he becomes one with the shadows and scouts the tunnel.  Several hundred feet down he spies a side tunnel, not carved in the same way that the dwarves have done with the main tunnel.  Following this, he makes it to the end to find a stout wooden door with heavy metal hinges and bands.  He asks one of his attending shadows to slip into the room on the other side and say what it sees.  “Meat sticks” is the response.  Slipping under the crack at the bottom of the door, Novos sees a number of dead bodies, some of them rotted away to skeletons, chained to the walls.  In another part of the room, completely un-weirded out by the dead bodies, the redhead man is calmly chewing on his dinner, which is meat on a bone.  Probably chicken or something else innocuous, but also possibly the flesh and bone of whatever he's sharing the room with.  Novos decides that means he’s a cannibal, and retreats.

The main tunnel runs several hundred feet into the side of the mountain, then opens up to a wide and tall cavern that is dimly lit on one side by an angry red river of something flowing at a slow and steady pace from a hole on one side, and disappearing under the wall on another side of the cavern [3].  He notes the partially caved-in walls and ceiling, and the presence of vaguely humanoid footprints scuffling around in the dust before he feels the pressing need to return to the party to relay his findings.

Meanwhile, the group has abandoned the pavillionsol, put it away, and is cautiously peering down the tunnel corridor.  At no point do they think to check on the (perhaps) terrified squires, who are probably safely down the hill trying to placate the animals.  Hopefully the animals haven’t run off with the supplies…

Novos reappears next to the team to explain about the cannibal and the delicious-looking red gelatin.  Somewhat emboldened, the party troops down the center of the corridor, heavily armored men in the front.  As Arthur seems to have an almost dwarfish feeling for the stone, he notes that the corridor is angled ever so slightly downward.  The side tunnel Novos noted is actually three hundred and twenty two feet from the entrance, according to Arthur.  It is, however, narrow and roughly hewn from the rock.  It’s much too narrow to comfortably fit even one heavily armored man down with any room to spare.  Arthur gives that a pass and the rest of the group follows without complaint.  Another hundred and four feet down (Novos says, “the corridor opens up in another hundred feet or so,” though both Dillium and Arthur can see no opening ahead), the group is greeted by a bright red light ahead of them.  Had they been born in another realm filled with roadrunners and train tunnels [4], they might recognize the coming light.  They were not, though, and so the huge fiery ball of fire coming down the hall catches them unawares.  Most of the group dodge out of the way, though Modred isn’t bright enough to do so.  As a bright red scaley figure drops down onto the floor of the corridor in front of Arthur and Zander, the group takes stock.

The fireball has greatly damaged everyone, as the dragon intended.  Because he’s a dragon.  Modred lies smoking on the ground, unmoving.  Felicity is lying on the ground, smoking slightly less, but at least she is moving, barely.  Zander and Arthur both learn how hot metal armor can get when exposed to a fire, while Novos’ and Dillium’s dancing around and ducking behind their armored front line has meant they are less damaged than the others.  Giving himself a quick Laying of Hands, Arthur attacks, Smiting the (obviously) evil creature.  Zander takes a deep breath and catches his Second Wind and attacks.  Novos leaps nimbly aside and sneaks around behind the dragon (well, near his tail anyway) and attacks.  Dillium casts Revivify on Modred and spares a moment to speak a Healing Word toward Felicity, though others in the party also benefit from the power of her Word.

“Modred, go back.  Go find Pocky!”  Modred looks at Dillium with huge sad Mastiff eyes, glances at Zander (who is busy smacking the dragon with his sword), and trundles off down the corridor back toward the squires (and away from the huge red beast).  Dillium counts this as a win.

The dragon doesn’t notice.  Swishing his tail angrily, he manages to knock Novos down.  A great head full of large dragon teeth clamps down on Zander, though the dragon isn’t big enough to swallow him whole.  A claw and a cantrip are aimed at Arthur, who is painfully reminded of how hot metal armor can get.  Again.

Again, the party attacks, though this time without a smite from Arthur, but with a critical stab from Zander.  Novos stabs again, but then quickly retreats from the still swishing tail.  Dillium again casts healing spells to keep Zander on his feet, but Felicity is still trying to figure out which train hit her as she holds her head woozily.

Having enough of food that fights back, the dragon leaps into the air, spreading his wings and performing a mid-air summersault.  His lithe form denies the opportunity for anyone to strike him, though Zander and Arthur both try.  With a roar of fury and pain, the dragon disappears down the corridor.  The team takes a few moments to regroup.  Dillium once again questions the wisdom of continuing on, but Novos has been raised on a diet of stories about dragons and their hoards.  With a gleam of greed in his eyes, he goads everyone else forward.   

Several hundred feet further on, the tunnel finally emerges into the wide cavern Novos saw.  Now in his human form, Novos finds that the lovely red gelatin is obnoxiously hot, and nobody wants to come near it.  The room appears to have once been an entrance hall, and Zander thinks he spies the remains of some defensive positions.  The roof has partially collapsed, bringing down much of the back wall.  While climbable, there’s no particular need, as there is a wide corridor to the side.  That corridor, too, is partially caved in, but the footprints in the dust seem to indicate there is a way through the rubble.  As Arthur scans the roof (no stalactites!), he sees what appears to be a series of holes, or perhaps caves, up near the ceiling, which Novos and Zander can’t see in the dim light.

The team turns down the corridor, past some cleared rubble and past the base of a column that might once have been topped by a statue.  As the group tromps down the hall, they find a stout wooden door, with heavy metal work.  The door is unlocked, and inside is a cell with dead bodies in various states of decomposition.  While the redhead’s pack, bedroll, and remains of a small fire are still present, the man isn’t.  The door on the other side of the cell leads to a corridor that Novos vaguely recognizes as the one he flitted down earlier.  But no young man.

Returning to the corridor, the group sees a well in the middle of the floor.  Peering down through the heat haze, the Zander spies more of the hot red goo far below.  A hole in the wall shows where part of the red substance has eaten away at the structure, but there’s no reason to think the floor is about to collapse.

Continuing on, Arthur sees a bridge up ahead.  As he heads toward it, a raucous cacophony sounds, making everyone clutch at their ears.  Novos realizes that it’s some sort of alarm spell at about the same time that Felicity says that out loud.  Novos disappears and flits on ahead.  He sees a rickety wooden bridge, hardly the work of fine dwarven craftsmen.  The bridge crosses another river of the hot red goo, far below.  On the other side are a dozen beings, mostly human, with large war dogs.  The dogs are nearly as large as Modred, though leaner and wearing doggy armor.  A large cook stove is one corner and bedrolls and a few cots are lined along one wall.  The humanoids are hastily pulling on armor and gathering weapons as the dogs stare intently toward the sound of the recent commotion.  Novos returns to the party to relay what he’s seen.  They decide that the bandits are in league with the dragon, probably to restart the forge and …  nobody knows what comes next.

As the party gathers on one side of the bridge, rising heat waves, steam and ash prevent a good look at the gathering war party, but it is apparent that they are outnumbered, perhaps badly.

“We must parlay,” Arthur intones gravely.

End of Chapter 7

[1] In fact, it was to the Council of Thanes, last chapter.

[2] At some point during downtime, the party have decided they must have a name, and have settled on something to do with Chimaeras. Novos points out that they technically still have a charter in Impiltur, and so having a party name that changes depending on what land they are in is particularly Chimaeric.  Also, Novos also says that the group can get away with anything and simply say that it was the Dragon Force that did it, forgetting that witnesses exist.

[3] Based very loosely on Fire Forge Caves by Dungeon Baker in FiveE magazine 

[4] such as this one 

I DM for a party with a monk, rogue, paladin and a druid (today's protagonist). They were in a hunt for the ape King.

It all began in the entrance of a cave where the apes lived and they found the first guard. After a short fight the druid casted speak with animals (they did undestand common but couldnt talk back) and somehow convinced the guard the King was waiting for them and they ended up getting along surpprisingly well during the time the guard sent a Messenger to the palace.

However, the lie was uncovered and the guard (whose name was actually Berto) told them to leave. Oh boy they weren't leaving that place.

They tried almost everything, but It ended in a fight trying not to kill Berto because the party liked him. The other guard came to the fight and the druid couldnt get in melee range so they threw a poison cloud (im not sure if thats the name in english) that killed her... Turns out that guard was Berto's wife, Berta.

The druid intimidated Berto (Who stopped fighting to mourn his wife) to show them the way to the ape King avoiding traps and inmediately felt VERY bad for it, but they had a mission.

The druid gave a flower to Berto after he guided them. It was the first time that character killed anything in two campaigns and giving flowers was their way to show appreciation. Berto smashed the flowers and threw it away before going away.

Nothing of that was planned as i thought they were just going to fight those apes and suffer the traps. It was an interesting session with character development.

Extra: Berto showed them a room where there were zombie apes captured calling them "the rotten" and the rogue added "ha, just like your wife". When Berto started crying the rogue told me they just wanted to say sorry and wanted to be forgiven... Yeah, my group's dark humor sometimes makes contrast with their own intentions.

We start and everyone’s new to the game except from dm We’re doing everything we need and we start playing Not even 10 minutes in the game _____ gets a nat20 on taking a shit and gets the power of the “skibidi toilet god” Later on because he worships the “skibidi toilet god” he wins a battle against a demon that’s has thousands of worshipers by turning the ground to shit

This happened within the first 5 minutes of the campaign I had them attacked by trees one of the three rolled a high enough Arcana check to see that the trees were being puppeteered as he saw tendrils of magic go into a nearby Field and he tried to shoot the person that person was the bbeg I thought it would be funny to tell them later on hey they've been following you this whole time and watching you but no he just straight up shot them with a crossbow I had to make up new stuff on the spot so they wouldn't immediately all die

Cambria-Morning

The day for the inhabitants of the estate begins usually, when the sun is starting to become visible. However, today was not one of those of days. Little Riki, Layra and Ferra, woke up with such high, playful energy, the early morning servant staff were surprised to see the three youngsters invade the kitchen.

Bellanna trotted through the north hall of the estate with a pair of servants in tow. "We're so sorry Mistress Annabella, but those three got away from us!" one of the servants explained. She had no idea when it happened, but apparently Riki, Layra and Ferra became a threesome of trouble. It was bad enough Riki and Layra were troublemakers in their own right, but they somehow influenced Lanara's first daughter to join them.

"I wouldn't worry about them getting away from you, it's not being able to find them, that becomes an issue" Annabella replied, her long white hair was done in a braided tail. it bobbed, swayed and bounced with her movements. Knowing who she'll be helping recapture, she chose to wear breeches instead of the form fitting dress she liked wearing. Vaylin and Fangir's only son Riki has been known to be a skirt diver. Whether he picked that up from his father, or he just learned it on his own, is unknown. But little Riki knows quite a few of the women in the house, gush about him and shower him with attention and love, which seemed to make him brazen. Fangir has been seen correcting that behavior out of his son, but in the same breath, show huge amounts of affection toward Vaylin which includes both of them getting handsy with each other. Especially after what happened with Kiora and Roth being lost on two different planes of existence. Their love was almost unrepairable, but they held on. So, ever since then, the two were inseparable.

"Over there!" the other servant cried pointing two a little tail vanishing around the corner. Annabella and the two servants made their way in that direction. The trio can hear their playful giggles as they got closer. Rounding the corner, all three children squealed playfully and made a run for it. Little Riki dodged under one of the servant's skirts, causing the Tiefling woman to gasp and lock her legs, falling to her knees blushing while the three kids got away.

Lashara, Slithera, and Fangir's two sisters were in the playroom watching Baby's Astra, Wicca, Nissa, Nessa and Samus crawl around while giggling wildly. However, the noise of the three energetic toddlers, got them to smirk. "They're at it again" Kaila commented while picking up Samus who crawled to her.

Lashara chuckled, Tyrande was still a little too young and hadn't figured out crawling yet, so she was in a sling napping against her chest.

"I so want a baby now!" Kaila spoke up suddenly, after putting Samus back down to resume crawling. Hannah chuckled but shared the sentiment. "What about you Slithera? Have you thought of having a baby?" Hannah added looking to the Gorgon woman who became one of her good friends.

Slithera blushed but smiled at the thought of having a baby. "Not really. With all that has been going on over the years, I haven't really had time to even think about becoming romantic with anyone, let alone have a one nighter with someone" she shrugged as she picked up baby Nissa. The baby Tiefling giggled and toyed with Slithera's coiling, slithering, long scales while giggling wildly.

Inara and Vlaad entered the playroom, which resulted in all the babies smiling big. It was Wicca and Astra who apparently got overly excited while giggling, their little hands grasping, when both of them let off little flashes and pops from their hands. This startled them, which caused them to do it again, which then resulted in both baby girls begin to cry. Which ended up becoming a domino effect for the other babies including the once sleeping Tyrande. It was a huge, loud chorus of crying that can be heard all over the estate.

Vlaad and Inara both couldn't help but wince at the noise while they comforted Nissa and Nessa. The other three as well as a couple of servants who were in the playroom, successfully calmed the babies down, just as Vaylin and Fangir entered the room and took Astra and Wicca into their arms, comforting them further.

"It's not just Kiora and Roth who have powers, Wicca and Astra also have them" Inara spoke up, nuzzling Nissa, while Vlaad did the same with Nessa.

"Really? So soon? extraordinary!" Vaylin commented while nuzzling one of her twins, causing her to burst out in giggles. Sure enough, Astra giggled so much, her little hands emitted the same little spark, which startled her again, but Vaylin kissed her and soothed her before she can start crying.

Out in the back gardens, twin siblings Burai, Kou, Vaylin and Varina, oversaw Kiora and Roth, their cousins, sparring. They were impressed with how quickly the pair of nine-year-olds picked up the training when they turned eight. It also occurred to them how alarmingly similar the two girls were to their adopted sister Vaylin. They even looked like smaller versions of their mother, even with the subtle Elvish differences from Fangir.

Kiora and Roth continued to train using their wooden swords. The clacking revealed patterns and even beats as if they were musical instruments. Both girls were identical in fighting styles for the most part. They would charge, spin in place, their swords clacking together, then proceed to strike, block, strike, block and strike again. They never really witness their mother fight, but they somehow knew how she moved. It helped, Vaylin would spar with them whenever their baby siblings were asleep or looked after by the other adults in the estate. Then the girls used their sound attack, when they clacked their wooden swords together. The force pushed the girls back and away from each other a few feet. The two pairs of siblings gawked in shock at the display of sound magic. Then their resumed sparring until both girls stumbled back from each other, breathing heavily and visibly tired.

"Well, it seems they have greater control over their magic output. From What Kiora has explained, she was taught how to harness and concentrate her magics and powers" Varina spoke up and handed her two exhausted cousins water skins. "That will be enough for the day" Varina said softly as her twin sister Vaylin helped them up.

The trio of troublemakers finally started getting picked off. Little Ferra was the first. She didn't see her mother hiding above her until she swooped down gracefully, plucked her up and glided away onto the nearest set of stairs. She giggled wildly from it. Next was little Layra, her mother snuck up on her from another hallway and snatched her up, tickling her, she giggled wildly as well.

Little Riki finally noticed his sister and cousin weren't with him. The funny thing about Riki being one of the three major troublemakers, he was also a scaredy cat. If he found himself separated and alone, he would begin to fuss and even cry. Which he started to do now. He heard footsteps approaching him and looked through teary eyes and saw his father. "Poppa!" he cried while Fangir picked up his son and soothed him.

Vaylin watched from afar and smiled lovingly at the man she loved dearly. She still feels guilty for almost ruining what they had due to fear. She then approached them, kissed her son, then Fangir. Their children calming down now, they joined the rest of the family.

The babies were being passed around; laughter was in abundance. Chit chatter was equally abundant. Fangir bonded with his son, as did Tommen with his. Little Layra and Ferra both made a mess of their food, causing them to erupt in wild giggles. The servants were highly amused and aided the parents by cleaning their little faces with wash cloths.

Annabella just got Astra in her arms when the distinct sound of a wet poot happened, the sudden shock on the baby's face came then the very familiar scent and Astra beginning to wail. "Uh oh, someone needs changing!" Annabella chuckled but held a hand over her nose. Wicca, who was just being passed to Slithera from Lashara, did the same. "Wow! Even you?!" she chuckled and comforted the soiled child while holding her nose as well.

Vaylin guffawed and with the aid of Fangir, they took their crying babies upstairs to be cleaned up, while Layra and Riki remained at their seats amusing themselves again. After a few minutes, Inara herself noticed Vaylin and Fangir were taking a little longer than needed to change their children. When they returned, with both babies in their arms, she noted the highly satisfied grin on Vaylin's face.

"Do I need to spray you two with water next time?!" Inara asked chuckling. Fangir and Vaylin blushed brightly, knew they were caught, and skillfully distracted everyone by passing Wicca and Astra to them again.

"You didn't, you know, in front of them, did you?!" Lanara came over to Vaylin and whispered into her ear. Vaylin shook her head "No" and resumed their lunch.

Fangir and Vaylin just put Wicca and Astra down for their naps, when Vaylin's hands started caressing his sides and hips. The obvious, predatorial smirk on her face as he returned her energy, and they started kissing again. Her arms around his neck, her tail wrapping around his waist, they were hungry for each other again, but were interrupted with an amused, clearing of the throat, catching their attention.

Inara stood there, left brow arched, an amused smirk on her face, her hands covering Riki and Layra's eyes. "I swear, I definitely need to carry cold water with me everywhere now. Do I need to have Slithera take you to another plane, then go back for you after a while?" she asked rolling her eyes.

Fangir chuckled, letting go of Vaylin and checking on their two youngest who were sound asleep, while Vaylin patted her son's and daughter's hair after Inara took her hands away from their eyes. "I'm sorry Momma, but I still feel incredible guilt over what I did to Fangir. I can't help but show him how much I love him" she replied with a smile looking back at him. Fangir chuckle and kissed Vaylin's cheek and the three guided the two toddlers out of the room.

"I've already forgiven her too. But even I feel guilty for how our union almost ended. I was in such a dark place, I was willing to kill that woman after finding out what her plans were and even if she told me there was no way to undo what happened, I would have killed her anyway. Then I was greatly heartbroken from Vaylin's words, spoken from a place of intense fear, that I actually got my things out of our room and packed up because I had plans of traveling to find a portal spell to search for our daughters" Fangir explained as Vaylin nuzzled his neck, rewrapping her arms and tail around him.

Inara chuckled and caressed her adopted daughter's face and Fangir's with a caring smile. "I am glad you two rekindled your love. I'm also glad you didn't kill that woman. I admit, I wanted to as well, I was so scared for my grandbabies. But that has passed now. You two are stronger than ever. Try to space your alone time out though and contain yourselves around your children" she replied and left with Riki and Layra to put them down for their naps, giving them a hint they are now free for now.

Back in their room, Fangir sat naked on their bed, watching Vaylin strip out of her casual dress. He watched her and found himself, not only still very much in love with her, but also still highly impressed by her. When she approached, he caressed her sides, her belly, her soft, heavy breasts. He traced the scars on her body, on her bust, her arms, hips. Each caress got her to sigh to him. Her tail slowly swaying. He loved everything about her. They both gained some weight over the years from having six children, but they remained fit. She straddled him and they started to kiss deeply, taking their time with each other.

"My love. I forgive you. Always have. Marry me again" he whispered, and she smiled, tears flowing down her cheeks as she kissed him. "Yes. I belong to you. You belong to me" she whispered back, and they made love uninterrupted.

Inara and Vlaad just put down Riki and Layra, as well as Nissa and Nessa. Holding each other's hand, they slow danced to no music, just to themselves.

Lanara and Tommen just put their two children down for their naps and it must have been in the air, because they quietly retreated to their rooms, stripped and made love as well.

The two sets of teenagers, along with Lilianna, Kiora and Roth, Annabella, Slithera, Hannah, Kaila and Lashara with a napping Tyrande in her sling, decided to go into town.

"What do you think sister? Will Momma bless us with another child or two?" Roth spoke up with an amused smile on her face. Kiora chuckled, as did Lilianna and Slithera. "Did you see how our lovely parents act with each other? Especially after we returned from lost on different planes. They can't keep their hands off each other, so it's a good bet, we may have another sibling or two in the future" Kiora replied with a chuckle.

The group wandered the shops and carts. Tyrande awoke at some point, became fussy with hunger, Lashara adjusted the top of her dress to feed her.

At some point, the group was on their way back home, when Roth spotted movement in the shadows of the woods. Curious, she made her way over to see, catching the others by surprise.

"Roth? What do you think you're doing?!" Lashara spoke up first, her mother voice coming out, a look of concern on her face. Though Kiora and Roth were not her children, their father was the father of Tyrande, while she tried not overstepping any boundaries or lines, she felt she must treat these two as if they were her own.

"I saw something Aunty Lashara, I was curious" Roth replied still heading in the direction of the movement she saw. Lashara gulped, she then looked to Slithera who nodded and went after her. The group as a whole, chose to follow Slithera's lead anyway, who followed Roth.

"Sister, what did you see?" Kiora whispered as they entered the bush and exited, now entering the woods. It was Varina who spoke up next.

"Roth, you do realize that none of us are armed right?" Varina whispered as well. To her mild annoyance, her little cousin ignored her as well. Eventually the group came upon what Roth was curious about.

"Oh no!" Hannah whispered, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. The group came upon a dead Owlbear, freshly killed and around the animal was three cubs. All sitting, nuzzling their mother's paw. One of the cubs, a brown with black spots decorating its hide and front arms, turned to see them and instead of becoming fearful, the little animal made a mournful sound.

Kiora and Roth both let out little sad sighs, visibly on the verge of tears when they just approached the little trio. Oddly, all three went over to them as well when the other two finally noticed them. The two girls hugged them while Slithera approached and placed a hand on the larger animal.

"She's gone. I can't bring her back. If she were still alive, I could have healed her" Slithera spoke up sadly and gently closed the former mother's eyes. The group then became aware of a pair of rough sounding, male voices approaching.

"I told you she came this way. The poison she ate wasn't enough" one male voice spoke up. The pair of human men finally appeared, they were hunters, both dressed in boiled leather and had armor bits. Both also had long swords in scabbards on their backs. They stopped when they saw the group of women and children. Two of the children were holding the cubs.

"Well, well, besides getting 50 gold pieces for the cubs, I think we can get even more for a Drow, a few Tieflings from the looks of them, some kind of Elf I've never seen before, oh and a few are children as well" the taller of the pair spoke up, causing the darker skinned Elf to clutch her sleeping baby closer to her.

"So, you're the monsters who took these cubs mother from them. Cowards. Especially if I heard you right that you used poison" Slithera spoke up, her long scales coiling in agitation, her briefly shining.

Burai and Kou both stepped forward and got into side view fighting stances that mirrored each other. One fist clenched, one hand open and flat in a "Stop" position. "I can tell you now, you won't be alive much longer, if you don't simply turn around and go" Kou spoke up staring right at them. Vaylin and Varina also stepped forward and mirrored their brothers except both girls had one palm open and facing down, the other open and facing up.

The pair of hunters simply smirked and unsheathed their swords and began to approach when they both grunted, pausing in their tracks and before the curious siblings' eyes, turned to stone.

"Enough of that. Let's go home" Slithera spoke up. She placed a hand on the dead Owlbear, whispered some final words to her and reluctantly let nature take its course.

Inara, Vlaad, Lanara, Tommen, Vaylin and Fangir were in the dining room chit chatting when they heard the estate doors open and the voices of their loved one's float to them. But then they heard three new sounds, little squarks and coos from three animals.

"Momma! Look what we rescued!" Kiora called to her mother. A look of dread showed on Vaylin's face as the children and adults that accompanied them came into the dining room.

Inara let out a startled noise, her eyes getting big. Vlaad closed his eyes and sighed, as did Fangir and Tommen. Lanara was just simply shocked into silence.

"Girls, what did you do?!" Vaylin spoke up finally and stood up from her husband's lap approaching slowly. The three cubs watched her curiously and when Kiora and Roth whispered to both of them, the three cubs seemed to cheer up and trotted over to her.

"We couldn't just leave them there, momma. Their own momma was dead, poisoned by a pair of hunters. They wanted to take us as well to sell us, but Aunty Slithera stopped them" Kiora explained as her mother couldn't help but give the three cubs reassuring pats. Fangir approached as well, his hand glowing green, the cubs accepted him as well.

"You two realize looking after them is a huge undertaking, right?" Vaylin said to her two eldest daughters. "That includes exercise, food, where they sleep, so on" she added.

"We understand Momma, they can sleep in our room!" Roth spoke up with a huge smile, which got a startled reaction from Inara herself. Vlaad just face palmed but was highly amused. The two girls then took the cubs out into the bag gardens to show them around.

Slithera and Lashara approached once the girls were out of earshot. "Roth is more like you, I think. She saw movement and went to see" Slithera explained with a chuckle.

"These hunters, did they see you?" Vaylin asked, a serious tone to her voice while she watched her eldest girls go out back. Slithera explained everything including the part where the hunters were no long a threat since she turned them to stone. Vaylin nodded, then smiled at Tyrande and took her from Lashara, nuzzling her, causing her to giggle and squeal.

"Ahh, the chaos of children" Inara spoke up causing laughter to erupt all around. The day went on and ended with the newest members of the family settling down in Kiora and Roth's room in little beds of their own. The servants were now aware of the Owlbear cubs and accepted this new reality, as did the entire family.

So the system was pathfinder. The party consists of: myself (kitsune rogue), a lizardfolk barbarian, a human warlock, a squirrelfolk pyromaniac and 2 npc casters we picked up. This takes place in a homebrew dungeon campaign the party was trapped in. The Party, through a series of events that the DM did not see coming, encountered the BBEG far earlier then we should have. The BBEG was an ancient red dragon that was buffed by 2 magic items and we were lv 5. So seeing things were not looking good I take a wand I found in the dungeon. The dragon immediately fixes it's gaze on me after I pulled it out.

This wand caused a random magic effect whenever used (found out far later it was tied to the homebrew 10000 wild magic effect table table). Now what made this wand terrifying is that if it was boken EVERY effect of the wand would happen at once and the dragon knew it as well as I did. (It had followed the party disguised as an npc when I got it). I warned the dragon to either let us out of the dungeon or I snap the wand. As you can tell by the title, the dragon tried to call my bluff.

TL:DR at the bottom, but hopefully it's funny anyways!

So, I'm playing in a spacer spelljammer game once every two weeks. In my efforts to give each class a try, I made a mouse/jerbeen folk bard. Was using a third party/homebrew of The Heraldry (banner man that gives small buff to everyone in radius of me with bardic inspiration).

We have a special spelljammer we have to deliver to the rock of bral. We are 4 days away from the sphere/land, and come across a stranded ship. It has a bunch of circus banners on it, of their big hitters. Bearded lady, Fat Man, Gizmo Geek, The Prettiest Lady in the World, and the Ring Master. They call over asking for help, saying their engine is broken. We quickly deduce that they are lying and it's a trap. So we decide to flip the tables and attack first once we get close.

It goes well, we get the surprise round and take out the ring master. But then, the pretty lady (succubus) comes up and charms me, the bard. My dice really wanted it to happen, and rolled a 3. It's a bit of a laugh and no big deal right? Except as part of the spelljammer ship, I'm first mate. So I start to command the others to put down their weapons and cease fire. I've confused some of the party and ship folk but the fight continues. Next round, they start trying to get the pretty lady and I scold them. So one of them gives me a bonk to force me to make me do the save again. I roll another 3. A party member changes time and makes me roll again. I change dice, and roll another 3. Feels a little weird, but hey, maybe it's just bad luck.

Succubus then gets a little snacky. She gives the best kiss my poor little mouse ever had, taking half my health. I started with 31 (level 4 characters) and she took 15 points from my total health. Rolled again, another 3. Time shift again, and I change dice again. Another 3. We are all now confused and bemused. As everyone else takes their turn, I test out more of my dice. I roll 3s on another 5 dice. I'm starting to get nervous and hysterically laughing. So I look for anything that will roll above a 10 at least. I find 5 or so dice that roll decently. Friends are getting worried as well, and offer a few of their dice as well. After a few silvery barbs, I get some advantage on my next d20 roll. I get lightly shocked by friends to force another roll. With my advantage on the roll, I roll.... two 3s. At the same time. On the new/different dice. Friends are scolding me for having rolled them before I needed to and took back their dice (which were now rolling badly).

Well, now I'm pretty low on HP from everyone's attempts of getting me out of it. On each of my turns, I keep ordering folks to stop fighting. And they have some infernal chickens that have rushed up from below and I scold my lady friend (sarcasm) when her chickens attack my crew. She claims she doesn't control the livestock, and I give her a pass (still charmed). My friends heal me up some as I was really low on HP and succubus lady goes for another kiss. She doesn't take down my total HP but does take another 14 from me (so I'm down to 2 HP) and i STILL FAIL THE ROLL. I rolled a 5 that time. Given another chance to re-roll, rolled a 3. I can't hold back laughter at the situation and the rest of the players are gobsmacked at what is happening. They try to give another hit to me as I am now being unhelpful, confusing folks and giving the pretty lady my banner buff (since it works for allies and I'M STILL CHARMED). I go under and have to make death saves, and I still fail my save! I roll another f'ing 3! My friends now worry that I'll just die, so they offer to roll my death save for me. They roll an 18 (which is nice). Everyone is going nuts about me being still under the charm.

The monk (of mercy) picks me up and gives a healing hand to me while beating on nearby enemies. Once awake, I'm told by my lovely lady friend to join her downstairs. I go, 'Yep!', and jump away from my friends to find my lady. I sit on the spelljammer helm seat (how to drive the ships) and it starts to just turn on. Now things are bad, because I might accidentally just drive the circus away from my original ship. Friends rush downstairs to try and get me to my senses again. I go down, for the second time, and finally roll enough to get free of the charm. Then they try to get the succubus but she goes to the ethereal plane to hide.

So they get my unconscious body back to the original ship and the succubus decides to go for one last attack. The monk, who was carrying me, managed to get her and then healed me one more time. So I wake up, freed from the charm, with the lady dead beside us, and very confused about the kisses and love in general. I was very focused on making a guide for the astral sea and hadn't even considered finding love. But uh, my dice have decided to do something else entirely...

TL;DR; My dice decided I needed to focus on finding companionship instead of work by never rolling above a 3. Tried 10+ dice, all rolled 3 to get free from Succubus' charm, even after two kisses that almost just killed me.

Me: 17 Party: 1, 19, 15 The guard next to the one I shot comes at me and swings his sword 2 times at Shade (Me) 1st one hits my shoulder wincing from the pain, second one missing, then a dagger comes in stabbing the guard in the back, the guard staggers gritting his teeth, the next 2 come at us swinging sword and spears, one comes at me but lodges spear in a tree, then my companion the possible ranger or Rouge can't remember is almost completely run through by the sword, followed by 2 more spear welders charge only to run in the line of a fireball that only suttens the metal and lightly heats it, with smoke of burning wood

Positions after first initiative

• a guard to my right and right beside me
• a guard infront of my fellow martal party member
• 2 guards flanking to the right

To be continued

Another story in the small adventure at my high-school dnd at the end. We finally reach the possible cause of what was causing duseas in the kingdom (sorry forgot that was the purpose of adventure)

We reach it turns out it's a plant thing causing spor deseas but the creature is dying and angry at the kingdom for wiping out most of its family like a dryad note the tree thing looks beautiful. My character and the party knows of many knights coming to kill it the party leaves trying to think of a peaceful way but my character knows the beings pain so as a squad approaches seeing the symble that he hates he loosens a bult Party: Noooo! DM: roll initiative

So this is my first dnd game and my party in counters a little living bush while we’re camping out I in an attempt to catch it to be my best friend I accidentally get us kidnapped by an evil witch that our dm was hoping would last more than one session; it did not; while we’re plotting our escape I noticed a massive field of bushes and come up with the best most chaotic escape while we escape and running away from the witch and her goons I pick up a branch and chuck it into the field I roll a constitution throw and when I tell you I rolled a Nat 20 with a +2 advantage… this was about to be hilarious my party climbs into the trees as a stampede of living and screaming bushes ambush and kill the witch and her goons that’s not even how we ended the game I jumped down and picked up the littlest bush put him in a copper pot and named him huckleberry and that’s the story how first nat 20 ruined my dms story for about a week, in that same game I had a hawk which i loving named pigeon who absolutely hated me and huckleberry respectively. I miss them

So just finished a session after a month break from some DM burn out. The player characters all wake up to find that the NPC they were in the middle of protecting had been kidnapped after a night of heavy drinking. so que them starting to search for clues.

The parties fighter Damien ends up finding out that the one who kidnapped the NPC got into his room at the inn from the inside and left out the window with the girl. So the party then splits up to start investigating. two remain at the inn, two head to check the gates, and two more go to report to the guards. At the Gates the artificer Brocc and Ranger Sariel find out that the night shift has not been relieved from their post which is out of the ordinary so using one of the players psionic abilities reported this to the others. after going to another gate it was the same thing, no relief shift, and that gate guard said a merchant came through earlier looking very much like an npc the players knew was hunting down the NPC they were guarding.

The Rogue Make and Druid Rellian at the Inn find the trail of the kidnapped going across the roofs of buildings and on following the Rogue finds the bodies of two city guards. she briefly investigates them but they get up and attack her as the one they were trying to track down was a known vampire. she is a level 6 PC versus 2 Vampire Spawn but runs away pretty quickly to them not giving chase to avoid the early morning sun.

then the group at the guard barracks. on going in their guard is up right away as something is very wrong in the fighter Damian and sorcerer Fran's minds. on talking to the guard they find inside hes dismissive of their claims and when they start to get pushy the guards block the exits in a pretty clear way of saying they are playing a dangerous game. so then Que a fight with the guards where the sorcerer fires off a fireball in a wooden building killing a good few guards and setting the building on fire.

The Guard captain comes up from the basement and engages the party as the Ranger makes his way onto the battle to help. so que a few rounds of them trying to get through a paladin NPCs high AC all while this blazing inferno is consuming the building. Ranger is starting to take some serious damage form the flames and paladin NPC. Eventually as the flames have consumed about 75% of the building the Paladin NPC takes a big attack of opportunity and leaves the building closing and locking the door behind him trapping the three players inside. The players quickly do get the door down thanks to the fighter's battering ram but the Paladin NPC has the doorway blocked and keeps pushing them back into the flames causing damage to start really stacking up. so in a chance to try and save the Ranger as he ends up going down from the fire damage he throws a Bead of Force and ends up getting the party Rogue who just joined the fight and downed Ranger into it while the paladin resisted it but now the fighter has gotten out by teleporting away before he pushes the paladin inside the fire dooming him to die to the flames.

this is when the first death comes up, the Ranger dies before he can get healed by the Druid but he uses my Plot Armor rule(a once per campaign rule to save a character from death) and as hes on the ground weak the vampire they were hunting comes around and aims a crossbow at him saying "Don't move or your pretty little friend will get a bolt into his chest." basically trying to get them to not right away attack him so there could be some demands to be made of the party. But the Rogue and Fighter both move in different ways, rogue to block the ranger and fighter to attack. And well held action goes off and the Ranger is again downed and cue a short fight with the vampire who is not being aggressive since hes here to talk not fight.

But during it the Ranger again dies but because he had just used the Plot Armor rule and the death was in no way his fault or an accident but caused by my players ignoring a threat i let him not die right away again since he had literally just used his plot armor(I dont normally target a player i use it on right away but i also didnt think the players would ignore a threat)

so shortly after this the rogue goes down as well and the vampire takes her hostage again using a held action to threaten the party. "Don't do anything, or your pretty little friend gets her throat opened." And the rogue in this time is healed on her turn by one of the druids spells and is told not to do anything if she wants to live but she ignores this and instead uses second wind but she goes down to the held action first so i just treat it as if she didnt use second wind. On the Vampires turn he flies into the air keeping a hold of the now dying rogue who rolls a nat 1 on her death save. the Rogue getting a safe distance from a party who is now understanding hes one to actually make threats he will follow up on just hold their turns. Then the vampire drops the rogue causing her to take damage from the fall and die. the player isnt to upset as they had been wanting to bring in a new character.

i love Held Actions being used by NPCs who wish to speak to players who otherwise will attack the NPC on sight for their affiliation or previous experiences with said NPC. but my players were unable to understand the threat they were facing.

TLDR: players are not used to consequences and burn a building down around the Ranger and then dont listen to threats of killing hostages causing two player deaths, one permanent.

The party (Paladin, Ranger, and a Blood Hunter who converted to Warlock) is now about 16 sessions into a campaign. They have learned that an ancient prophecy says the BBEG will return within a century of now, and that other nations on the continent have different forewarning prophecies of events that will transpire before the great evil revives. They are visiting a nation of Halflings, and have learned theirs “when the Warforged become a people, the great evil will soon return.”

Warforged in this setting are soulless robots, created during the Great War that defeated the BBEG, and have remained the worker drones allowing the Halflings to live a leisurely lifestyle. The party had run into a couple before, but aside from border control Warforged they didn’t react to the outsiders.

That is, until the Blood Hunter used the ritual designed to give Warforged a semblance of life on himself to purge his Undead status and become humanoid again (his blood was tainted with Abberant Ichor, and the ritual would transfer Djinn Ichor from a Bludstone to himself to negate it). The morning after that, the Blood Hunter—now turned-Warlock—noticed a Warforged look at him funny. After taking care of business, the party decided to track this Warforged down and see if it was becoming sentient.

They found the robot in the tavern’s basement kitchen, and began their prodding for signs of life. After a few minutes, the Ranger looked over his sheet and said “wait. I can cast Zone of Truth.”

I drew out the basics of the kitchen. It was rectangular, and designed so a dozen Warforged can work at full capacity. Ranger centered the Zone in the Kitchen, which left the Warforged pod room and the cold room outside.

We spent 20 minutes irl interrogating the two Warforged manning the kitchen. While they couldn’t get either to confess to life or being part of a Warforged underground community, concepts like freedom and choice were added to their database. The party also learned that Warforged made during the Great War may have memories from that time, but age faded some and replacement parts wiped others.

When the spell faded, the party decided to eat dinner and spend the night in the tavern. But when they went up the stairs, they found a full out brawl. It seemed every Halfling except the barkeep was throwing hands.

“What happened?” the Paladin asked.

“I dunno,” the Barkeep said, ducked behind the bar. “A few minutes ago, they started telling each other secrets. Things like ‘I stole your whiskey,’ ‘I slept with your sister,’ and more. Those words riled everyone up, and, well…”

The Warlock realized it first. The Kitchen had a 5’ ceiling and was underneath the tavern tables. The Zone of Truth extended into the tavern, at about a 10’ radius, and forced the drunk Halflings to reveal their inciting secrets.

The party decided to slip upstairs and wait it out.

"NAMES"

It always happened all at once, the blinding light, the familiar tug around the midparts and then the feeling of being upended, tossed about and dropped out into the fresh and stinking mortal world on your head. The experience was all too familiar to Crezzar. Some stupid fleshy was always calling him up from the pit to answer questions, to seek audience with Crezzar’s betters or to partake in some other stupidity. Mortals could be very taxing on one’s free time. Picking himself up and squinting, Crezzar attempted to acclimate to the newest familiar situation he’d been thrust unwillingly into. Standing, he cast a well-worn refrain into the lingering whiteness all around him.

“Who dares disturb the mighty Xibbledorm from his diabolical wonderings? What mortal has the fortitude of spirit or deficiency of mind to play so cheaply with their soul? Name yourself conjurer, and if you offer sincere apologies and adequate restitution we may be able to move past your unwise decision and come to an agreeable accord,” said the squat little demon, blinking his bulbous eyes furiously to relieve his momentary blindness.

“Your name is not Xibbledorm.” said a serious voice from behind, ”Your name is Crezzar. It is with that name I summoned you here.”

Crezzar was instantly afraid. Cold, nervous rivers raged down his spiny spine and his pocked green flesh flushed yellow. This mortal knew his true name. This situation was far from familiar. Panicking, Crezzar’s senses sharpened and he began to take stock of where he actually was.

Iron bars ran vertical all around him, encircling and trapping him inside a small cage, just big enough for him to fit. Attempting to thrust his arm through, Crezzar was met with a violent shock that nearly tore his shoulder out of the socket. Glowing violet runes of binding magic danced briefly in the air before him as he rubbed his arm and muttered the most vile curses he knew.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?,” said the voice from behind, less serious than before.

Whipping around, Crezzar was met by a wizened face and stony, hateful eyes, all lit by a single candle. Crezzar could tell that these were not the eyes of a man with which one trifled. Crezzar was a lot of things but stupid was not among them. For him, bowing and scraping before more powerful beings was a very familiar situation indeed. Crezzar immediately felt more confident.

“Apologies, great conjurer. I am but a lowly worm who lashes out in fear at unknown dangers. Please excuse my rash words and allow me to abase myself. A re-introduction perhaps? I am indeed Crezzar, minor demon of no renown or import, what service may I provide you, oh illustrious master of magicks?,’ said the demon in an exaggerated falsetto while dropping to his knees and favoring the old man with as innocent a look as he could muster.

“Save your bootlicking, worm, I haven’t the time. The only thing I need from you is the name of a former master of yours, his true name, mind you, and then I’ll let you go,” said the old man, sitting down in a wooden chair across from the cage.

“Information gladly and freely given, good sir! If the name is known to me it will be known to you….master,” said the demon, flicking his tongue nervously in and out of his mouth.

“I am no one’s master. I am your jailer, and if need be your executioner, but not your master. I want from you but one thing and then you can go. I seek the true name of the lich, Mordock the Despicable, former overlord of Smolderthorn Keep.”

Crezzar’s knees went weak. This mortal was insane. “Mordock is not an enemy to seek, old man,” said the demon, standing straight and lowering his voice. He saw little use for further subterfuge.”What’s more, I know not his true name, so you might as well send me back to the pit.  Beings such as Mordock keep many secrets, as I’m sure you can imagine. So if you would kindly just…”

The old man spat harshly a word of magic and white hot pain filled Crezzar’s world. Surges of agony laced through him, reverberating and cascading over themselves as his body began to tear itself apart at the cellular level. Then, with another harsh command, it was over.

Crezzar lay still for several moments before slowly pulling himself up to his feet. He fixed the old man with a look between hatred and overwhelming terror. This type of cage was familiar. He’d been tortured by one like it before. Though rare, sometimes a powerful mortal would come into possession of one and use it to enslave lower demons or make ridiculously one-sided pacts with them. The cold fear returned. Raising his nostrils into the air, Crezzar sniffed sharply several times.

“Where did you get a Virmithirian Cage old man? You don’t smell powerful enough to have even heard of one. It’s punishment is legendary in the pit. I am impressed by your commitment and duly afraid of further remonstrations but I can only tell you that I was never gifted with Mordock’s true name. He would never have trusted me with it, I was lower than pond filth to him,” said the demon, his desperation obvious.

“I don’t believe you. You served him for over a decade. Not long to you, maybe, but long enough. You’ll tell me everything you know, and you’ll give me his name, and do you know why?” said the old man leaning forward, his face coming to rest just inches from the edge of the cage bars.

“Because you’ll hurt me more if I don’t?” said the demon, braving a bit of sarcasm.

“No, because I got this cage from my late daughter’s effects. The same place I found your name, written in her adventuring journal. Perhaps you’ve heard of her, Lucinda of Parchallow, Great Sorceress of the Drymarsh. I received her things along with those of her brothers when her companions brought them to me following their deaths. Deaths they suffered at the hands of Mordock. Deaths they suffered because of...you,” said the old man, jabbing a finger at Crezzar.

“W..what?,” stammered the spindly demon, his pointed ears flattening against the side of his head, his black eyes widening. He knew there would be no pleading, cajoling or deal-making with this old man. Only the truth could serve him now.

“Yes, and if you don’t give me something useful with which to use against Mordock then I will have no choice but to use this cage to do exactly what I know you know it can do, so start talking, MAGGOT!” said the old man before finally losing his barely restrained temper and speaking the cage’s word of power again. After smiling wickedly into Crezzar’s screams for a few moments he ended the torment, sitting back and steepling his fingers in anticipation.

“I...I really don’t know his name,” squealed the demon after gathering himself. As the old man’s face contorted in rage he continued quickly, ”BUT...I can tell you where he is.”

“Where?,” said the old man, his face relaxing and eyes sparkling.

“He keeps a phylactery in the Tower of Xevosh, located on a peninsula east of The Manaburn Wastes. He should be there, recuperating from the Battle of Smolderthorn Keep. This is the only useful thing I know, I swear. I returned to the pit after his defeat and haven’t heard much about him since. I know he is still alive, and I suspect he is in the tower, now can you please release me….uh..I don’t think I got your name,” said the demon, palms out in supplication. Tail and ears tucked behind him.

“Duncan,” sneered the old man, ”Dunk to those that know me best. Dunk the Absent Minded, Dunk the Widower, Dunk the Amenable, even Dunk the Kind. I have been called many names in my disappointing life but the only ones that ever mattered to me were “husband” and “father”. “Father” is what my sons called me...what my daughter called me.

Since their deaths I have been called other names. Dunk the Sorrowful, Dunk the Weary, Dunk the Lost, but no more will sad titles affix themselves to me. My enemies shall now know me by different, better names. To they I will be at once ‘the Relentless’, ‘the Unforgiving’ and ‘the Cruel’. I will stop at nothing to have my revenge. I will end my journey over Mordock’s broken, lifeless husk but I will begin it here….with you. The nasty little demon that betrayed my children and their company to Mordock in the first place. No, you slimy little toad, I will not be releasing you today.”

Crezzar gulped. ”Then what do you plan to do with me?,” he said trembling.

“Do you know where you are?,” asked Duncan, a thin grin spreading across his face.

“No,” said the demon, genuinely confused at the darkness beyond the small light given off by the old man’s candle. He should have been able to see more of the room as darkness was no hindrance to the eyesight of demons. This darkness was different.

“You are in a Tinkertop vault owned by Head Tinkerer Lockenship. He has agreed to loan the vault to me indefinitely. It seems my daughter and he had quite the friendship and when I told him who it was that I intended to hold here he was more than willing to assist. Tinkertop vaults are impenetrable by both magical and mundane means. No light, no sound, no magic functions within these walls that isn’t permitted to. This is the dark, soundless hole I’m going to drop you in. You know what that means?”, asked Duncan, his grin widening even more.

“It means that I’ll be sitting in here for quite some time, I suppose,” said Crezzar, sighing and slumping down into the cage in a heap, giving Duncan a look of tired resignation.

“You’re half right, you little piece of offal,” said Duncan, leaning in one final time before speaking the punishing phrase of the Virimithrian Cage again.

Turning to leave the room he stopped to enjoy the demon’s screams for a few moments longer. Looking back over his shoulder he could see the little monster clawing at his face as his body convulsed in anguish.

“My name is Duncan the Aggrieved,” he yelled over the tortured cacophony, ”and this is only the beginning.”

As he exited the vault Duncan smiled again as the doors slammed shut behind him leaving Crezzar the Cursed alone with his torment.

i was in a campaign that had lasted for 9 months i was both a player and a helper when writing the main plot line, cause the 5 other players were relatively new to dnd and we wanted to give them a really good campaign(which is why my character was even important in the first place). in said campaign i tried something new and played as an elf paladin/warlock (just to go with a setup i didnt think had been done before) the backstory behind that is a previous band of adventurers i was a part of was massacred and i was left the only survivor do to a last minute pact i made with my god for longer life and magic. I joined up a new group of adventurers that happened to have the grandchild of one of my old party mates (this was an npc controlled by the dm). 9 long months of fun, terror, heart brake, and a story that would probably make a decent book or something later, and we're at the second to last session. in the session prior the dm KILLED my old party mates grandchild with a minion of the big bad. together me and the dm wrote what is still the coolest thing ive ever been a part of in dnd, i the enraged paladin leave my friends in the dead of night to confront the bbeg who was this vampire guy that was behind the massacre of my old party. and the rest of the party sat at the edge of their seats for the following interaction.

DM (as bbeg): quite the band of adventurers. and yet you stand alone. again. surely now your afraid?

me (in character): i have lived a hundred mortal life times, and i will live a hundred more before i fear the likes of you! after all a scared paladin is no paladin at all!

DM: you're nothing but a fool, spewing nonsense. you hold no power. you never have!

me: you may be right. but i have my armor, the blessing of my god, and your name written in the blood you sow! this night will end in justice.

DM: no... it will end with your blood.

me: yours first!

as we ended the dialogue a creepy bell awoke the other characters and just when they thought we were rolling initiative we ended the session on the cliffhanger. that session was 5 years ago and to this day i havent done anything objectively cooler.