Heroes And Adventurers Welcome

[doglikeperson]

Artist Wanted

I am looking to publish some D&D homebrew documents online, but I have about as much artistic ability as a rock, so I’m looking for someone to help me out. You can message me here on Tumblr, or you can email me at [email protected] if you’re interested in partnering up!

[thebutchriarchy-deactivated2019]

Medusa with the Head of Perseus, Luciano Garbati, 2008

[arbitraryimposition]

I adore how she carries his head low, at her side, and not aloft in triumph. This is not a self-aggrandizing hero lauding her great deed. This is a woman who wanted to be left the fuck alone.

[drunkenhills]

Also look at her body. The double hips. The asymetrical boobs. She’s thin, but she’s realistic as hell. That’s a real woman.

And the look in her eyes. Damn.

[marlene]

I originally saw photos of Garbati’s Medusa a long time ago, but I specifically remember this post from earlier this year. Medusa was one of those pieces that really buried into my head and heart. Sounds silly, but just looking at it gives me strength.

Today I was lucky enough to see it in person. She’s incredible. And, something that the original pictures don’t show— she’s HUGE!

[heroineimages]

I love this even better now that we can see the baffled look on Perseus’s face.

[doglikeperson]

Love it!

[guildofdungeoneering-deactivate]

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Denied

So for context, our party was traveling on a roc (very big bird). Below us was a train. Our characters have never seen such an invention. So our Dragonborn Bard wanted to fly down and fight it because he thought it was a big metal worm. My fighter Warlock tries to reason with him. Incase he does jump, I asked my DM if I can make a check to prevent him from jumping off. DM said athletics.

Me: “That is not a worm. Do you see anything identifying of a worm!?”

Bard:”IT’S LONG AND WORMLIKE. LIKE A WORM”

Me:”SO IS A SNAKE, BUT YOU DON’T CALL IT A WORM NOW DO YOU!?”

DM: so are you Jumping off or not? -w-

Bard (OOC): LETS DO IT. LEROOOOOOY JENKINS

*I proceed to make a athletics check which results in a critical 27*

Me (OOC): Get your ass back here.

Bard (OOC): oh. Okay.

DM: you pin him down and tie him up. He is now in being held by the roc’s talons. The timeout talons - w-

[doglikeperson]

I’m dying

[emcheeseman]

Binding Cord 👁️

Oren’s in way over his head with this feywild stuff as of last session and I am living for the drama.

[aitu]

And I keep him safe. I want him to thrive and get better and better and more powerful and stronger. Because he can achieve great things. When I found him, he was nothing. He was a scared little boy in the corner of a jail cell. And as we have gotten more comfortable, he has gotten more comfortable and come out of his shell. It’s my job to protect him because I love him, and I am his protector. Not because he protects me.

[doglikeperson]

I loved this so much

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Background: Our DM decided to have the inn our party was in magically fly into another dimension, kinda like the Wizard of Oz.

DM: You wake up… the scenery is different outside, as it is day and you hear yelling. You somehow managed to survive the fall from the sky and the inn is in good condition. Me: Okay well why is there yelling outside. DM: The inn landed on the city’s only orphanage and every single orphan in the city is dead. *Everyone goes batshit crazy* Me: WHY WOULD YOU LAND US ON AN ORPHANAGE DM: AT LEAST THERE ARE NO MORE ORPHANS

[dmsden]

House Rules – What are some of my own modifications from the basic D&D rules

Hullo, Gentle Readers. This week’s Question from a Denizen is inspired by Chaoschronicler on Tumblr, who asked, “Bit random but what are your thoughts on heavily modified rules or straight up creating your own system? Asking cause I’m doing that with an old rpg system”

Well, I’m a fan of modifying systems, I have to say. D&D itself is a modification on the old Chainmail rules that Gary Gygax created for Fantasy Wargaming back in the day. Without the modifications that Dave Arneson made for his Blackmoor campaign, we might not have the game we all love today.

Speaking personally, I think that, overall, D&D 5e doesn’t require a ton of modification to be enjoyable. I have modified plenty of other games in the past, but, short of a few house rules, I feel we play our Shattered Pact game pretty much as intended. You may feel differently, and, if you do, or if you want to play some other game with heavy modifications, then you’re absolutely right to do so. In the end, the only rule you should never break is to Have Fun! If your group is playing a game, telling a cool story, and having fun, then you’re doing it right, and no one out there has the right to tell you otherwise.

Having said this, I thought folks might be interested in some of the house rules that we do play with, so I thought I’d share them.

Flanking: If two characters are flanking a monster (or two monsters are flanking a player character), then they have advantage on melee attacks. In some ways, this is just our love of 4e leaking over into our 5e game. I love battle mats, minis, and tactics, so we use this optional rule from the DM’s Guide in our combats.

Two or More Spells in a Round: If a character can cast a spell as a bonus action, they can use their action to cast another spell. Now, I realize that there are rules that state that, if a spell is cast as a bonus action, the only other spell that can be cast that round is a cantrip. Honestly, I just feel that this creates a bottle-neck on my spellcasters. If they want to throw tons of spells, I want them to throw tons of spells. I can’t think of a single time this has “spoiled” a combat or made it too easy, and I know it makes my spellcasting players feel cool. They just have to remember that enemies can do it, too, which makes NPC sorcerers with Quicken Spell very scary for them…

Lethal Critical Hits: When anyone rolls a natural 20, they do damage equal to the most the attack could’ve done, plus a roll of the dice. For example, if a fighter with a 16 strength using a longsword gets a critical hit, they would do damage equal to 1d8+11. There is nothing sadder than getting a critical hit and then rolling minimum damage, so we adopted this rule to make sure that critical hits are always awesome to get, and always terrifying when they come in against you. For monsters, I work out the maximum damage the attack could do, then add the average amount to it.

Other than this, we mostly play using the books. I do allow Unearthed Arcana article material (for example, one of the players is using the Mystic rules while we wait for an official psionics class, while another is using a version of the Minotaur race from the Waterborne Adventures article). I’m also more than willing to homebrew items (for example, the Halfling sharrash our Halfling fighter wields that we count as a polearm for purposes of the Polearm Master feat), races (such as my version of the Shardmind), backgrounds (such as Tavernborn), and so on. I want my players to play what they want and to have a great time; I go out of my way to helping them create the heroes that most appeal to them.

Again, in the end, the only rule I consider sacred is to Have Fun. If everyone (including me) is having fun, then I know that we’re playing right.

[yourplayersaidwhat]

““It’s the first session that our bard is in and they’re already trying to seduce someone””

— - Our Paladin (ooc)

[professsorbeans]

I’ve become obsessed with Lizardfolk in D&D. They’re just so fucking funny.

-Everything that isn’t a Lizardfolk is food -Some food can be helpful (Don’t eat those) -Some food is really strong (Run away from those) -Money is shiny but otherwise pointless -Dead things can be eaten and made into equipment (Even dead friends) -They don’t feel emotions, they simply react -They try to pick up mannerisms of other creatures but can never get metaphors or figurative language down -They take everything literally -They can mock laughter to fit in better with others, but it sounds terrible and is always used incorrectly -Gender has no place in Lizardfolk society. Males and Females receive the same names and treatment.

I just Lizardfolk, ladies and gentlemen

[doglikeperson]

I just made a Lizardfolk sorcerer! He has a strong sense of duty to his tribe and his time away from them has taught him that food likes to laugh, but he doesn’t understand when to use it 😂

[yourplayersaidwhat]

The Bag of Bagers

Context: I am running a 5e campaign in a world that I have homebrewed for some level 5s and I wanted to give them some neat magic items as a reward for being awesome players. The Archmage tasked them with finding and getting rid of some bandits in exchange for identifying an artifact they picked up. One of the bandits possesses a Gray Bag of Tricks.

Me: Okay, so, on his turn, the bandit with the sword is gonna reach into this pouch on his belt and pull out a small object. He drops it to the ground and, shortly after (rolls d8 on Bag of Tricks table), you see the head of a badger pop up out of the grass.

Cleric: OoC What, does he have a bag of badgers on his belt??

A couple rounds later…

Me: Okay, He’s pretty hurt, so the fighter is going to back up from you [Bloodhunter] and reach into his pouch and throw another small object to the ground, which turns into (rolls on table)…. a giant badger…

Bloodhunter: OcC OMG He does have a bag of badgers!!!

After the battle…

Bloodhunter: OoC I reach into the bag!!

Me: Okay. You reach into the bag and feel a small, fuzzy object. When you pull it out, you see a small ball made from fur.

Bloodhunter: OoC I toss it on the ground?

Me:

You toss it on the ground and, shortly after, it turns into (

rolls d8 on Bag of Tricks table

) *Sigh* a giant badger….

Cleric and Bloodhunter:

OMFG it’s a fuckin’ bag of badgers!!!!!!!!!

[doglikeperson]

They posted it!

[dndoggos]

Dungeons and Doggos - #39 “Missing Mouse” The purrfect trap has been set and it is completely, 100% flawless. Well… maybe not 100%…

Does your character (or party member) have a terrible or hilarious flaw that affects the party?

[yourplayersaidwhat]

There's no one here

I’m DM. The group is a dwarf fighter, tiefling warlock, drow rogue and human monk. The fighter has been arrested for arson and is being imprisoned until his trial, which will inevitably end in a hanging. The other three are trying to break him out. The warlock and the monk are invisible, and the monk’s base strength is 20.

Monk (OOC): There are windows leading to street level, right?

Me: Yes, but they’re barred, and you’d need a boost to climb through.

Monk (OOC): I’m going to rip the bars off, then.

Me: Roll it. Also roll stealth, because being invisible doesn’t mean you can quietly rip metal.

Monk (OOC): Strength… 17. Stealth… crap.

(It was nat 1)

Me: You don’t pull them at all. You punch the bars off and they go flying into the street. You also yell, at the top of your voice, “GOD DAMN IT MY KNUCKLES!”, and the guards immediately start looking for you. 

Me: It doesn’t take long for them to realise you must be invisible. One rushes off, and comes back about thirty seconds later with a red-robed man of about 40. He begins the preparations for a spell which you, (Warlock), recognise as Invisibility Purge.

Warlock (OOC): Oh shoot. Okay I sneak up behind him and whisper to him.

Warlock: There’s no one in here. Don’t waste a spell slot.

Me: Roll it.

(Nat 20)

Red-robed man: Oh, of course, you’re right. There’s obviously no one in here, or I’d be able to see them. It’s not as if the very spell I was about to cast was specifically for making me able to see them. Thank you, random disembodied voice!

[doglikeperson]

Perfect

[yourplayersaidwhat]

DM (to our bard): The six cultists shove you to the ground, bow to the massive green dragon, and say, “Oh Great One, we have brought you this gold and this human sacrifice as tribute to your greatness. Please accept our offering.”

Rest of Party, looking on from a distance: Shit. He’s dead. He’s so dead. RIP Edward. 

DM: The dragon thanks the cultists and asks if you have any last words.

Bard: I look up at the dragon and say, “I have brought you this gold and these six cultists as tribute to your greatness.”

Rest of Party: OH SHIT!

DM, who was clearly not expecting that: …………roll persuasion.

Bard: 17.

DM: The dragon says, “I like you. Duck.”

Bard: ….I duck?

DM: The dragon incinerates the cultists with his poison breath and leaves you alive, flying off with his treasure. 

Bard: Oh my god. I thought I was dead.

DM: Honestly? So did I.

[doglikeperson]

Omg this is so perfect

[basalt-dnd]

Under TV tropes as a model here, in your time playing D&D, as a PC or DM, what is the scariest, most tearjerking, most heartwarming, funniest and most awesome moment you can think of?

Saddle up your dragons and get ready, because I have plenty of very long stories to tell. The others are coming in a separate post, when my wrists aren’t killing me because of tendonitis. They might be a tiny bit embellished here and there, but all good stories are.

Scariest and Most Awesome Moment: Becoming a God

I had played Basalt for a rather long campaign. It had ended, but our DM had gotten a brilliant idea: to go back to an earlier age of the same campaign and run a game in the same world. Ultimately, our party’s fate in this new campaign would tie into the elaborate worldbuilding we had co-built for the first campaign. Time passed and we had a lot of fun with the campaign, and were fast approaching the endgame. 

Our characters became very detailed and elaborate, and the twist of the campaign shouldn’t have been a surprise to me, but it was. Before I get to that, I want to mention the characters themselves a bit more:

 Falx Cenzer was our battlemaster. He was a man of the people and a hero of the common folk. His ambition was unmatched, and he wanted to change the world for better. Falx’s greatest fear was time. He feared he was always wasting it, that there would never be enough of it to do what he needed to do. His smile could always put a room at ease. 

Garener was our necromancer. They were a healer of the mind, a gentle soul who spoke to the dead to help the living accept their grief. Garener saw no use in fixing such a temporary and immeasurably small world, nor in discovering its secrets. They believed that our lives had no meaning except what we made of them. Beneath their philosophy and magic, Garener was terrified of death.

Inari Farland was our spellsword. She had been born to a great pirate queen. At an early age, she showed an aptitude for sorcery but not for thievery. Her ‘no-nonsense’ attitude and intolerance for crime led her to become a naval officer under the land’s prince. Underneath her formality and skill, Inari is plagued with a fear that she isn’t doing the right thing.

Izazel was my cleric of knowledge. He insisted that there was a meaning to life, and he adamantly refused to die until he found it. In his own words, “Once I find it, I’ll lay down and perish. Until then, no such thing will happen.” He wanted to know everything there was to know about the world.

Our campaign was bent on finding the Fountain of Immortality and with it archives of all time, written across the walls of its chamber. Falx wanted to find it to maybe, just maybe, have a shot at living longer. Garener wanted to know if death was escapable, and if there was anything in store for the world. Inari wanted to see if there was a ‘right’ thing. Izazel wanted to see all of the unbiased past and bring the truth to light.

We discovered that the fountain would not function unless immortality was ‘traded’. A god must willingly give their power to the pool of water- or a god could be murdered in it. 

Luckily for us, Falx’s connections were able to locate the mountain the fountain was under. As was orchestrated by the DM and Falx’s player the entire time, Falx had stolen the representations of dreams that floated in the fountain. He melted them down. His glaive looked different. We thought nothing of it.

We marched across a small continent and reached the mountain, and found the entrance to a cave several miles deep. It was a hollow ‘spire’ of sorts, covered in mirrors and illusory projections of the past. Embers spiraled from it and into the night. The water in the several story high fountain at the bottom gleamed like liquid mercury. 

Izazel and Garener spent days recording engravings, hailing messengers, and trying to get to the bottom of the cavern that only seemed to get deeper. Inari scouted ahead and mapped the strange bridges that always seemed to change. We had sent Falx to bring our archaeology guild to the scene. We couldn’t excavate it alone. 

Our guild arrived, and disturbing news came with. It was of a green dracolich that we had fought when she was alive. Ahkma, the dragon, was pursuing the fountain with an army beneath her. Someone had told her where it was. The paladins of the fountain that had aided us on our quest joined us, sworn by oath to defend it. We called upon our oldest allies in the farthest corners of the mountains. 

Izazel and Inari had reached the fountain. Garener, Falx and the others busied themselves with tactics on the outer cliffs. We could see the legions approaching. We had known that Ahkma had an army further south, in the city-state she ruled. We had known that she wanted the fountain. But we didn’t think she would go so far as to become a dracolich.

So there we were when the our allies, and a city guard stood against a city-state’s militia. Garener held back a decent portion of the soldiers in a ‘bottleneck’ of a mountain pass. Inari defended them from javelins and arrows with protective magic. We didn’t have time to stop Ahkma from reaching the cliffs, so Izazel, Falx, and the paladins had planned ahead and waited to fight her in the tunnels where she couldn’t fly. 

If this story wasn’t long enough already, here’s where it gets scary and awesome. 

A blast of wind rushed through the tunnels. We were almost knocked to the ground. A deep, unsettling feeling seemed to choke us. Ahkma was approaching. As her toxic breath filled the halls and left two of the paladins coughing blood, Izazel noticed that Falx was nowhere to be seen. We fled to less airtight halls, hearing the horrible snapping of Ahkma stepping onto and breaking the collapsed paladins.

Before we saw dragon claws, before we saw her venomous clout of breath, a javelin struck the leader of the paladins in the throat, pinning her to a wooden beam. Wilhelm was her name. Falx stepped out from a hall. There was a collective cry of anguish at the table as we connected the signs. We should have seen it coming. The moment Falx unsheathed his glaive, the paladins’ moments were numbered. Three of them fell. 

Izazel ran, like a coward. He couldn’t fight his battlemaster companion, but he could outrun him. Izazel knew the patterns of the tunnels and overlooks. Falx did not. Iz hid behind a statue, six or so stories below where he had left the dracolich and traitor. He held a page of notes on the use of the fountain to his chest. Falx could kill him, but he could not have the notes. 

I looked my DM in the eye. I called for Divine Intervention. And it worked. Isthmus, the god of knowledge in our setting, came to life from the mirrored crystal of the statue. With the combined power of cleric and god, we altered the illusions and histories on the walls. 

 Isthmus struck Ahkma’s wing with a moving platform, sealing it into the stone. She broke it away, flightless and enraged. In that horrible moment, the ancient dracolich launched herself across the floor of the cavern. She pinned Isthmus to the fountain and lacerated the god’s throat. She drowned him. 

Izazel had been dealing with Falx. His scream of horror was cut off by a magical spear to the gut. Falx’s player had a wicked smile on his face. He spent his last superiority die to knock Izazel off the edge of the platform. We were twelve stories up.

Outside, Inari was gravely injured and our allies had retreated into a safer valley to tend to the wounded. Garener’s player broke down laughing. Earlier in the game, they had a curse put on them by a hag we had to deal with. The curse was that they would cause a grim and horrible explosion on death, which would virtually guarantee that they would kill all of their allies and everyone around them. 

With that, Garener insisted that all of out allies flee and their player pulled out a secret of her own that we also should have expected. Garener had a phylactery, and would become a lich on death. Cackling like only a nihilistic necromancer can, Garener flew above the militia and gave one last speech about the meaninglessness of life. And died. A very large portion of the army was killed or injured in the explosion. And Garener had every last one of their souls. It would take them a day to reform, but they had done what they needed to. Our allies finished off the soldiers who remained hostile, leaving those who chose to the chance to run.

So, Izazel. He fell twelve stories. And by perfect and unintentional roll of the DM’s dice to find out where his corpse would lie, he struck not the bottom of the cavern but the water of the fountain. Remember when I said Isthmus had been killed on the fountain? Remember when I said that Ahkma and Falx didn’t have the notes necessary to use the fountain, because Izazel had them? It turns out the ritual, which is all verbal, isn’t as hard to do while falling twelve stories as you’d think.

And that, my friends, is how my cleric became the god he previously served.

[doglikeperson]

Damnnnnnn

[adungeonaday]

Multiclassing... With Style

Your character is close to levelling up, and you’re thinking about taking a level in another class. That’s great! However, let us not forget that this is a roleplaying game, and therefore this new character development deserves some narrative attention.

The Guild of Fifty One Hands does share secrets with anyone off the street.

The Archfey Council will not grant to power of the natural world to those it deems unworthy.

The Circle of Seven will not train an unlearned plebe to manipulate the fundamental elements of the universe. 

You must first prove you are worthy of the powerful abilities associated with this new class. For each class (in the 5th edition PHB) you will find a list describing trials you may be set to prove your suitability for training.

Barbarian (1d6):

Survive a night in the gulch with only a spear

Capture a live bison (or similarly large beast) with only a rope

Cross the river at the rapids

Using only your bare hands, touch together the two ends of an iron rod

Turn the granite sculpture in front of the palace to face the opposite direction

Beat up a bear with your bare hands

Bard (1d6):

Compose a sonata in the style of a famous composer

Construct your own instrument

Perform at every inn Brognar Dovecap played at on his final tour

Recite the epic tale of Gray Wolf from memory

Sit through the entire 28 hour “Ode to Warm Milk”

Get a groupie

Cleric (1d6):

Translate a page of the Mad God’s Tome

Acquire the ingredients for incense and prepare it

Read the scripture cover to cover

Learn the fundamentals of the morningstar

Work for a time as a beadsman at the local alms-house

Finish all the paperwork in your to-do bin

Druid (1d6):

Learn the hunter’s last rites and perform them after slaying a bull elk

Allow a bird to nest in your cupped hands

Cultivate the notoriously fickle winter ivy without using magic

Earn the trust and friendship of a myconid colony

Return a defiled place to a state of natural health

Beat up a lumberjack

Fighter (1d6):

Learn the basic defense and attack forms

Win a medal in the King’s Melee

Apprentice under a blacksmith for a time

Learn the art of diplomacy

Read through Muin Wild’s ‘'The Art of Conflict”

Defeat the galloping hordes AND one hundred bad guys with swords

Monk (1d6):

Do 10,000 pushups

Learn meditation under a master

Give up your worldly possessions

Learn to perform a tea ceremony

Fast for a fortnight

Learn crouch with tigers and hide with dragons

Paladin (1d6):

Provide palliative care to the dying

Seek out a wanted criminal and convince them to amend their ways

Commit to a vow of silence, chastity, or poverty

Compose your oath and commit it to memory

Undertake a pilgrimage

Spoil a shady plan by being a huge stick-in-the-mud

Ranger (1d6):

Retrieve the herbal ingredients for an antidote before the poison overwhelms you

Capture and train a bird of prey

Climb to the peak of a mountain

Construct your own bow

Track down the cause of a blight afflicting the nearby forest

Escort some needy halflings to the nearest elf settlement

Rogue (1d6):

Steal the Red Wolf’s signet ring

Spring The Pig from the local jail

Brew a potent poison

Walk atop the city wall from one end to the other

Craft a set of skeleton keys

Go up against a Sicilian when death is on the line

Sorcerer (1d6):

Trace the history of the dragon bloodlines

Inscribe on your skin the tattoos of magic channeling

Read the Manual of the Planes

Pen a thesis on each of the four natural and seven supernatural elements

Construct a wand

Fetch water and perform other menial tasks for an Arcane Master without using magic

Warlock (1d6):

Retrieve a lost relic for your patron

Capture and tame your familiar

Perform a moonlit sacrifice for your desired patron

Craft your pact weapon

Destroy a relic belonging to a rival patron

Start a cult

Wizard (1d6):

Identify an artifact without the aid of magic

Master the process of growing crystals

Read through all seventy-seven tomes of Arcane Foundations

Learn the fundamentals of life, death, undeath, and false life

Perform the rituals required to convert a regular cauldron into a suitable potion brewing vessel

You put on your robe and wizard hat

[doglikeperson]

Love it!

[pantmonger]

As a side project for my own Dungeons and Dragons games I have been practicing my concept and making Adventuring Gear art.   I popped them on Cards to see how they would work. I’m quite happy with them. And if anyone from any of the big publishers are looking for artists, I’m available. :)  

[doglikeperson]

Neeed mooore