I'm going to upload a breakdown of my favorite X, or what my general thoughts are on Y, before midnight EST on every day of December this year.
This is not going to be specifically about one version of one role playing game, but generally about my experience between the ~4 versions of Dungeons and Dragons as well as Pathfinder that I'm the most familiar with.
I'll try to append this post with links as I go so you can follow this pinned post for the month.
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Day 1 -- Favorite Race -- Human · It started as a reaction to my high school friends' refutation of humans as "boring" and
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Day 2 -- Favorite Class -- Bard* · This might be the hardest entry on this list, only for the fact that I love so many clas
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Day 3 -- Favorite NPC -- Princess Livelli · In my wife's homebrew setting (see Day 21 -- Realms/Planes Free Space) the worl
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Day 4 -- Favorite Villain -- Queen Gwretch · (Sorry fellers, this one's long, you've been warned)
Also hailing from my wif
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Day 5 -- Moment of Triumph -- Duane's Instability · I was playing in a Pathfinder 2 campaign where the DM was using a deck
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Day 6 -- Moment of Despair -- Don't Lose Your Head · It had been a slog. We spent hours wandering through a massive dam swa
It’s D&December! I was inspired by Jess Jackdaw and do some fusions. More specifically, fusing a D&D monster and a Pokémon. This past week was Walrein and a Rakshasa. I present... Captain Hasib: The Sea King.
“Oh? You plan to sail the northern seas eh adventurers? I’d be careful if I were you. The northern seas are home to the extravagant and terrible Captain Hasib. He and his ship the Noble Kraken roam those seas. He’ll freeze you down to your bones and pick your corpses for any speck of treasure you have. Any ship that dares to cross those waters with anything valuable is sure to catch his eye. And having the Sea King’s attention on you is never a good thing...”
My first entry for the D&December Prompt list found here, for my blood hunter Amaranthe!
Ko-Fi
They say experience is the greatest teacher of all, but Amaranthe feels ill-equipped to face the dangers of the world alone. But she has no say in the matter. This is the final test to see if she is worthy of joining the Order of the Profane.
Amaranthe tightly clutches the leather sheath holding her sword to her chest as the black stone doors roar open. She looks up to Adarvan standing at her side, her rising apprehension smothering her words.
He places a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'You can do this. I know you don't feel ready, but you are.'
The words do not ease her anxieties, but nevertheless she takes her first steps outside for the first time in years.
The fallen leaves underfoot feel like returning to see an old friend, comforting and terrifying at the same time. The tall trees cast large shadows with what little sunlight filters through the canopy of leaves overhead.
Amaranthe hears the crunching of stone, and turns to see the doors seal closed. Now her trial begins.
Amaranthe exhales heavily, her breath misting in the frosty evening air. She throws a few more branches onto the modest campfire, hoping it would stoke the flames. She wished she mastered the art of lighting her own fires before she left. Perhaps it is for the best. The dark shadows dancing in her periphery rouse her paranoia.
The howl of a wolf echoes through the trees. Her heart thunders in her chest as she sits in still silence, waiting to hear if it repeats or is answered.
One minute...two minutes…
Another howl. Closer. It's just wolves...she could handle this, she'd fought them before.
And yet she kicks the damp soil over her small fire, smothering the flames, and praying she would remain unnoticed.
Were she so lucky.
They move so quietly she might have missed them if not for her paranoia keeping her on high alert. Three of them emerge from the shadows, creatures that are an amalgamation of humanoid and wolf; standing on two legs, bound in muscle and fur, large, long snout where a nose and mouth should be. Yellow eyes with slit pupils stare intently at her as they close in with subtle snarls and growls.
Amaranthe slowly reaches for her blade, afraid any sudden movement would spur them into sudden action.
One of them snaps its slavering jaws as she begins to draw her sword.
To help with it! Amaranthe thinks, as she springs to her feet and fully draws her blade.
They charge her, claws and fangs sharp as blades racing towards her in a frightening burst of speed. She barely has enough time to duck, the haste of her actions nearly toppling her over. She recovers, safely to the side of the circle, and attempts to remove one of their heads.
A rookie error.
She severely overestimated her own strength. The blades edge sinks about two inches into its thick neck before the tenacity of its muscle and flesh blocks the blade. One of it's long arms swipes for her abdomen. Sucking in her gut and thrusting her back outwards protects her insides from being torn out. The very tip of its claws scratch against the leather of her corset.
She spins as she retreats, not wanting to be taken unawares by the other lycan. She pivots and is greeted by the sight of an open maw. The stench of death on its breath makes her eyes water as the jaws close down on her.
Amaranthe raises her sword horizontally, one hand pressing against the flat of the blade and blocking its jaws. The steel slips into the corners of its mouth, drawing blood and a bestial cry of pain.
It cowers away from her, but the other two are upon her. Three claws rake across her shoulder. Her skin bursts into white-hot pain. Her arm sags under the pain, the tip of her sword falling towards the ground.
Amaranthe's free hand clutches at the wound. It quickly becomes slick with blood, and she feels the panic rise in the back of her throat. She raises her hand from the wound, bringing it slowly down in front of eyes to disprove her own denial. But their her palm is, soaked crimson.
A rivulet of blood trickles down her arm, onto her hand and eventually drips down onto the blade.
And then, the steel erupts into flames. Startled, Amaranthe drops the blade, backing away from the fire. It does not spread across the very flammable forest floor. It remains contained to the sword.
The werewolves also cower away from the fire, whining with fear.
She picks back up the blade, waving it in front of the lycans. The fire scares them back off into the shadows of the forest.
The flames slowly fade. Amaranthe twists it in her hand, inspecting the steel. Its bares no evidence of its ignition. It's even cold beneath her fingertips.
Such power...she had seen some of the senior members manifest it, but she was never even made privy as to how…
'Well,' she says aloud to the empty air. 'It might be easier to light my own fires now.'
D&December continues with the second day of PC week, with my most played character Pilke Pinehillborn, the tempest cleric halfling! Short history of his exploits on my instagram~
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We have a winner~ Dindel the Favored Soul Sorceress will be my next D&D 5e character!
Her name should have been Dandelion but her mother never wrote it down and her father always said it wrong. Also a few random facts, mostly just so I remember myself since the campaign isn’t starting for a while yet. When it starts she’s going to have to worry about two main problems: finding enough gold to pay off her father’s massive gambling debts, and finding out how to not die when only one of the five party members is a melee character! Should be fun!
And in case anyone doesn’t know, D&December just started up over on ProJared’s channel! I absolutely love listening to him talk about D&D, new editions and old. If you’re unfamiliar and you’re even remotely interested in D&D I strongly suggest checking it out!
