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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Mollymauk Tealeaf, a tiefling blood hunter . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Nott says that they've been very clear that they're in this for what they can grab for themselves. She corrects Fjord's assumption that she relies on Caleb for protection, saying it's the other way around.
DM: Yeah, you've heard them impact. It's just darkness, but you hear yelling and shouting and then talking back and forth and then Beau taking damage and this strange shifting of energy in the distance. What are you doing?
Player: Oh, for gods' sakes. I am going to run straight through the--
DM: 30. You get to the edge of it. You can barely peek out. You can continue to move, but it'll be your action to continue to move.
Player: No, I'm going to stay at the edge of this and I'm going to use Vicious Mockery.
DM: Okay, good to know.
Player: (demonic voice) Stop where you are!
DM: That is wisdom, right?
Player: Yes.
DM: That's an 18.
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"DM",
"Player"
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Nott the Brave, a goblin rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They agree and make their way into the fray. Dodging through and around burning buildings, the party takes down a few of the gnolls, including a couple of undead ones.
DM: Yeah, so you maintain control over the Hideous Laughter. Okay. You rush into the cloud of ash after them, and you begin to see some of the shapes ahead of you of the gnolls there, pushing the cart. You're still behind them by about 30 or so feet, and right as you rush forward, darting in, the heat from the embers entering your lungs burn, and you put your mask over to block and help filter a bit, with the cloth and bandages, and right as you rush forward, you see the back of the heavy armored leader, that's bringing up the rear of where the cart is, and he turns and sees you.
Player: Oh god.
DM: As soon as you finish your movement, it spins and looks in your vicinity, to see that you're alone.
Player: Oh god.
DM: Takes his glaive.
Player: Oh god!
DM: And closes the distance with a giant downward swing.
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"DM",
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, For you's initiation, she will have to embark alone on a hunt, guided by the Dawnfather. Cassandra suggests that Keeper Yennen might know more about the specifics.
DM: The amphitheatre set up, which Keeper Yennen usually keeps for all his various sermons. It's early enough where nobody has gathered. It is not any of the chosen weekly holy days of Pelor, so as you arrive, he looks like he's in the process of going through and sweeping and doing his morning ritual of upkeep. And you walk up and you can see his beard has grown a bit longer now and his grey has spread a bit since last time you had a true conversation. It's been a very tense situation. You can see occasionally the accelerated age that recent events has imparted upon individuals of the city. But as he sweeps and notices you arrive, "Oh, yes!"
Player: Hi.
DM: "Uh."
Player: Vex'ahlia.
DM: "Vex'ahlia, thank you."
Player: Lady Vex'ahlia, Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt, apparently, which I'm here to talk to you about.
DM: "Oh! Excuse me." And he wanders off and he puts the broom back in this little closet and clutter falls out. "Oh, god-- Just a--". Puts things back up. Closes the closet. Hobbles back in your direction. "You are-- You are the Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt?"
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"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, She tests the roots of the cursed tree for any illusory magic, but it is solid and real. you attempts to level up the Titanstone Knuckles by destroying the kitchen, much to Scanlan's consternation.
DM: No, not so much. Sondur takes Fenthras and actually lets go of it to his side, and these vines grab it and hold it in place just wherever he lets it go. As he pulls back, his fingers curl up into these giant, extremely hard petrified root-like clusters, and he just starts starts whaling on you as you're holding onto that vine. Three strikes against you. The first one is gonna be a 25.
Player: Hits.
DM: Second one is a 23.
Player: Also hits.
DM: Third one is a 15.
Player: Misses.
DM: It hits you, but just not enough to do any damage. So, looking at this, that brings it to, oh no, that's two. 14 points of bludgeoning damage on the first one, halved. And the second one--
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"DM",
"Player"
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, She meets him and he lets her know that the Ruby will find her if she just keeps doing deeds, causing trouble, and being herself. She shows him the pamphlets she made for him and the Traveller thinks it's adorable.
DM: "He's not an interior guard. Based on his markings, it looks like he's supposed to be at the perimeter."
Player: The guy that was all in his tattered coat and stuff?
DM: "Oh! I misunderstood."
Player: Yeah.
DM: "He's not coming in."
Player: But I hired him to guard me, though.
DM: "I'm sorry, we have to maintain a certain kind of presentation here."
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, There are two vines, one around Nott and one trying to wrap up you. They prove to be difficult opponents, dealing significant amounts of physical and poison damage, and grappling and restraining their targets.
DM: 26 points of damage. As Yasha just carves through, the second strike cutting straight up the side, almost freeing you, it's shredded and still holding on by a thread of its life as it's trying to pull you back to wherever it crawled its way out of, but still standing. That finishes Yasha's go. Jester.
Player: I'm going to cast --
DM: It's barely holding on.
Player: Okay, I'm going to Sacred Flame it.
DM: All right. It fails with a four on its wisdom save there. Go ahead and roll damage.
Player: This is radiant damage again! That's five?
DM: Five points of damage; how do you want to do this, Jester? (cheering)
Player: I say "Put him down!" Just like Yasha, I echo Yasha. Then I radiant damage the vine and then I stomp it with my giant feet, and then I also lift Fjord up onto my other shoulder.
DM: Okay, the giant Jester stomping out the vine on the ground, it's now like-- (splattering) Parts of it are being crushed and turned to pulp.
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"DM",
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Grog moves around, but doesn't start reverting out of mist form. Vax and the first worm are hit by a frost breath.
DM: All of you who are mist form now revert, and you fall about five to ten feet and catch yourself on the ground, no harm no foul.
Player: As I revert back can I slide down that wall to create some--
DM: Did you want to move first over here to do it?
Player: Yeah.
DM: So you shift over, you drop the spell.
Player: Uh-huh, I drop the spell, and as I drop the spell I want to grab some wall and bring it down to make a big vibration, right in between these two motherfuckers.
DM: Okay. Make a strength check.
Player: Oh, jeez Louise. Oh, that's not too bad. It's not a saving throw.
DM: Correct. Just a strength check; add your strength modifier.
Player: 18?
DM: 18. All right. So, as you slide down, you grab onto some of the loose rock and (rockslide) they come tumbling down as you slide down. So you land here, at the base of the two worms, and rocks tumble around you at the base of the cave-in. And you get the sensation that you may have made a decent bit of racket right around your feet.
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"DM",
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, He talks to a captain and trades a bottle of alcohol for passage around the lake. He tells the captain that he is from Port Damali.
DM: "I don't know. Probably died many years ago and no one goes around, seeing as it's cursed land. You'll see for yourself soon enough."
Player: Did she have a wart on her nose?
DM: "Probably."
Player: Yeah.
DM: "We don't really deal with witch folk."
Player: Did she wear a hat? Like a pointy one?
DM: "I'd only expect as such."
Player: Right?
DM: (chuckles) Takes another swig as you guys begin to make your way towards the center of the Ustaloch--
| [
"DM",
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] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Seeing through Percy's disguise, he suggests that the real Vax join him after the feast begins. Assum then goes into more detail on the reasons for his distrust of the Briarwoods and notes that Lady Briarwood is an accomplished wizard.
DM: Okay. You gather across the ceiling as you go. You watch them head up the stairway to the second floor. They head to the right, down a long hallway, a series of doors. They come up to a door, where there are two guards standing outside. The same guards that led them inside the building, and were riding on horseback.
Player: Could I Hunter's Mark him before they go in their bedroom?
DM: Hunter's Mark is technically a minor spell. You could try it.
Player: I mean they're walking away, when their back is turned, could I do it when they're not paying attention?
DM: I'd say, make a stealth check. Trying to do this subtly at the table.
Player: 20! (cheers)
DM: You Hunter's Mark which one?
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, To be honest with you, I thought we were going on a pleasure cruise. But you know, I’ve met some people, and we’ve had a great time, and yeah.
DM: She goes-- nein-- "Oh my goodness, that sounds terrible. Well, obviously we cannot have you touching it, then."
Player: If you don't mind my asking--
DM: "Please, cut through the bullshit for me, please, Captain Fjord."
Player: Tusktooth.
DM: "Will you tell me if I call you Tusktooth?"
Player: Yes.
DM: "Then, Captain Tusktooth, please tell me." [cheering]
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"DM",
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Three of the bolts hit Percy in the chest and a fourth glances off his shoulder. Four more bolts hit Grog.
DM: Okay, that brings us to the guards' turn. They all reload their crossbows. These four are now going to make shots at you, Percy. These three are going to take shots-- all five of these guys are going to take shots at Grog now. They're trying to take you down so they can move onto the next target. So four shots on you, Percy. That is 20?
Player: That hits.
DM: 18?
Player: That hits.
DM: 20?
Player: That hits.
DM: And 11.
Player: That does not hit.
DM: Okay, so you take from three heavy crossbow bolts at you. Seven, 19, 32 points of piercing damage. All three bolts stick into your chest. They're big, long, thick, heavy crossbow bolts. One of them gleans off your shoulder and catches the edge of the wall, but the other two have actually sunk into your torso and are sticking out of you. The other five against you, Grog.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The woman tells him he'll be home soon enough, and then the spell ends. The twins go to search Hilda's house.
DM: Okay, yeah. It's a simple lock. As you walk inside, you see the candle that was lit the other night has melted entirely and the wax is dripping off the side of the small bench where it was laid on.
Player: One more in here. Is there any bullshit hiding around in here? 29.
DM: 29. There's no bullshit, necessarily, but there is that pile of linens in the corner. You see it shifting slightly, and as you pull off the side you see there, bound, Hilda. She's like, (muffled noises).
Player: All right, Whisper out, and I cut her free.
DM: "Oh!"
Player: You all right?
DM: "I'm all right."
Player: What happened?
DM: (stuttering) "Naught but a few days ago, this blue-skinned woman came, and she seemed nice enough, and she asked me questions. She didn't hurt me or nothing, she just asked a lot of questions."
Player: And you've met us before? No?
DM: "No. I've seen you around town. People talk about you, saying what you've done for the people..."
| [
"DM",
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, To that end, they visit a mapmaker named Tyriok to get general directions toward the Sunder Peak mountain. After a couple days of travel, the party arrive at the mountain home of the Fire Ashari.
DM: You guys keep running. You notice as you're bolting forward, the two entities that are looming reach over and--
Player: Okay, I'm going to stop, if I see one pick up a ball, I'm going to stop and take an action, if that's okay.
DM: Sure, go for it.
Player: I'm going to swing around, I'm going to pull Bad News out as I swing around, back myself down, and I'm taking an aimed shot at its arm.
DM: Okay, go for it. You're spending a grit point?
Player: Spending a grit point. It's been so long. There we are. Yeah! Oh, the curse is broken, that's 29, 31.
DM: 31. Definitively hits.
Player: 31.
DM: What does the arm shot do? It's no damage, right?
Player: The arm shot is-- okay, sorry. It's been a while. I've never done this one before. No damage, but it drops one item of my choice.
DM: So as it's lifting the boulder, you fire, and it hits the elbow out from under it.
Player: And I use the strength of the shot to pick myself up and keep on running.
DM: Okay. Go ahead and make an acrobatics check. So as one of them is lifting a giant boulder--
Player: 23.
DM: 23? You're fine. Percy swings around, fires Bad News. That echoes through the entire ravine, (echoing gunshot) acting as a sound focus. You hear it echoing outward from the blast that sends Percy back, but Percy turns around, throws his arm down on the ground, and using the momentum from the blast picks himself up, leaps onto his feet, and continues running in time with the rest of you, a trail of smoke billowing behind him from the barrel of Bad News, which you can see is now glowing with a bit of red warmth, the metal itself heated from the sheer force of the blast. At this time, you look up and see one of the entities with the two heads is lifting a boulder over its head. One of its elbows (gunshot) out from under it (collapsing sound) as it collapses onto its head, and that one also falls out of view as the other one looks back and sets the boulder down. Starts shaking its fists at the air (angry grunting).
| [
"DM",
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Some of them splintered off to try and acquire the goods that were taken from his store, however they apparently had already been stolen from the location they were being stored in, or been delivered already, they're uncertain as to what became of them. But they get the sense that it was probably best that they chose Gilmore over the gold, at first glance.
DM: Okay. A few of them stand up, hands on the side of their hilt, and stop there for a second before one individual steps out of the shadows and puts his hand up, putting it down. You recognize this to be Garthok.
Player: Garthok!
DM: He says, "Don't worry, they're with me. I'm glad you made it. It had been a while. I was afraid maybe you wouldn't come."
Player: We got held up by some wyverns. I almost died, it was crazy. We're here now.
DM: "It sounds like it. I'm sorry to hear it."
Player: Hey. It's all right.
DM: "I'm glad you stayed alive." And as he starts to talk, the group of individuals standing about ten feet behind him separate as another figure pushes past them. Pulling the hood back, you can see a man about six feet in height, average human height, long, blond hair that trails past the middle of his back over a dark grey cloak. Fine features at one time; he looks older, you can see the weathering in his face and the various wrinkles and lines from years and years of living in this atmosphere.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Nott the Brave, a goblin rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Jester tries to help but is knocked out with some sort of sleeping gas. The rest of the Nein come to help with Jamedi and Avantika.
DM: 15 points of damage to it, struck. The blow hits and sinks in. The creature's looking hurt, but it's still standing, though it is stunned.
Player: Damn. All right, I'll reload and shoot again, this thing is--
DM: With advantage because it's still stunned.
Player: Great. 26.
DM: 26 will do, yeah.
Player: And then this is not a sneaky attacky, right?
DM: Correct. You only get once per round.
Player: Much better. 11, and I'll use Fury of the Small to make it 16.
DM: All righty, it's looking really hurt. It's real hurt.
| [
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Taryon Darrington, a human artificer . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Tary and the party are welcomed into the Darrington estate, where they meet Tary's father.
DM: His eyes dart to you with a fiery hatred, like how dare you speak up right now. "When your grandfather passed, when you were still but a baby, our lands were nearly taken from us by a rival barony from within the Dwendalian court. Lord Jaipher found loopholes to revoking our ownership and titles set by Oberon and in my panic and necessity, I found an ally in the Myriad."
Player: In the Myriad?
DM: "Through a whispered hint, I met a man named Korshad, who ensured our surviving ownership in trade for a partnership with him. I signed, not wanting to toss, at the time, my only child onto the street. But as the decades passed, I did not realize in my haste, the depths of the deal that I had made. And with many harvests failing in recent years, the agreement now devours our livelihood from within. They now demand our accrued debt paid in full or they take full ownership of everything."
Player: I'm having trouble wrapping my head around this. You're saying everything I've lived has all been built on this deal with this shady group? You're a criminal? You're just a criminal.
DM: "No. No, it is built on what we built as a family."
Player: We didn't build anything as a family!
DM: "We did, and nearly had it taken away. I did this to maintain it. And I let you live as you all deserved to live."
Player: But Papa, you never told me any of this. You were cold to us, and you told us a bare minimum of what you did and how you ran things.
DM: "I hoped to find a way to fix this before I needed to, yet here I am, prostrate before my own child. Broken." And he starts, like, tears just pour down his cheeks. "I was just trying to make it right."
Player: I didn't know any of this. How would I? And now I have to fix it for you by marrying some girl?
DM: "It's a marriage of convenience."
Player: That's still a marriage.
DM: "It means nothing more than political gain. Your life is still yours to live."
Player: No, it's not! I have to be here, I have to be with her. I have to live in her castle or she in mine. (sighs) Listen, I've learned a lot from these people over the last year or so. And one thing I've learned is that you are who you are whether you have a lot of money or not. And I don't have that much anymore and I'm still okay with that. And it's not because of the things I own, it's because of the deeds that I do. You've done some bad deeds in your life, and it sounds like you've done them to preserve our family and preserve our legacy, but that's not a reason to do them.
DM: He leans forward to you and looks to you with an honest, more honest than you've seen him, very vulnerable expression. "Every man and woman who has money has done bad things."
Player: Yes, I'm sure that's true. And I assume I'm somehow complicit in this.
DM: "You are not. I tried to keep you, your sister, and your mother as innocent as I could. My back is to a wall now."
Player: I'll have to think about this.
DM: "Think on it. The choice is still yours; I would not force you into this, but it is a chance I wish you to contemplate."
Player: What have you done to our name? Do people know of this?
DM: "No."
Player: And if I marry this girl, it will just all go away?
DM: "If you marry this girl, we will have the influence and the wealth to pay this debt and cut ties with the Myriad entirely. We would be a free family once more."
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Tiberius Stormwind, a dragonborn sorcerer . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The party, after essentially forcing this individual to reveal themself, the rakshasa fled through a tunnel underneath its room into a long subterranean tunnel fraught with traps that were set to protect it. The party managed to avoid these rather deftly until the steady decline of the hallway, combined with the increasing moisture and scent of refuse, caused a slick surface and our fantastic cleric, Brother Kash, Kashaw, slipped and fell down.
DM: All right. Next up is the otyugh, who is extremely unhappy with how that went down. (growls) You now see as it pulls from the front of its body one giant backwards-looking elephant leg that steps into the front of the material, a second one, forward. It pulls itself completely out of the pile, and you can see a third one, like a giant tripod. These thick legs carry it forward. It is going to do a bite attack and a tentacle attack on you, and a tentacle attack on Keyleth, as you're the nearest to it. So as it rears back with its mouth, this giant maw opens with all these nasty jagged broken teeth, and the smell that comes out of its mouth is horrifying, even for your experience as a dragonborn. That would be... 18 to hit.
Player: Did you roll at disadvantage?
DM: Why would I have disadvantage?
Player: Cloak of Displacement?
DM: Oh! Good call. Oh, that's even higher. 19. But thank you for the reminder; that's good to know.
Player: AC is 18.
DM: So it hits.
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, With all the enemies handled, Molly douses the flames on the dead priest's head and calls Caleb out of his withdrawn state. The rest of the party searches the room for any valuables.
DM: As you're doing that, "Good job!", you look back just as two arrows go flying towards you from the two other gnolls. They both have disadvantage, I believe, right? Because you took your defensive stance.
Player: Yep.
DM: All right, which is good because that would've been a 20, and an 11.
Player: Miss, miss.
DM: Well, that's the first attack. I rolled a 20 and 11. You dodge out of the way. The second one is going to be a 21 and a 22. That hits.
Player: See if I can catch another arrow.
DM: You take six points of piercing damage.
Player: I'm going to do my Deflect Missile.
DM: Reaction, right.
Player: I'm going to try and do like a frisbee catch in the air.
DM: Okay. Go ahead and roll your die.
Player: It's a d10, right, d10? What was it, six damage?
DM: Six piercing damage.
Player: Five plus my seven, so yes.
DM: All right, so the first arrow you dodge out of the way, and the second one you see it coming out of the way. There's a brief moment where time seems to (whirring) and you catch it right in the middle of your hand. It pulls you back a little bit and looking down you can see the arrow is there, right in the middle of your grip.
| [
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Caleb Widogast, a human wizard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Despite his efforts, you finds no record of the names of those who were only nearly killed. you does find some names mentioned, but nothing directly correlating to the experiments you is interested in ( Matt will send Liam those notes later).
DM: The things you discover, from what's available to you in the archive: time is a constant, the motion moving forward unyielding. Some powerful arcane influences can accelerate or slow the rate at which time passes locally, even stop it. There are some stories from the Age of Arcanum that speak of the greatest of sages experimenting with reversing the forward momentum of time, and supposedly with some success. But the process apparently was so taxing and the energies required so extensive that it nearly killed those who passed through this natural flow. That's as much as you can pick up on the specific research involving that shift of time. They're more footnotes and like a, "We don't mess with that because those who tried have mostly been disintegrated or destroyed in the process."
Player: Nearly killed. Does it talk about any of the people who were nearly killed but weren't?
DM: Yes, but they existed close to 1500 years ago.
Player: No record of their names?
DM: The names that were in there are none that correlate to anything you'd recognize.
Player: I would still have spent the entire three days reading about that.
DM: I'll send you those notes later. You do pick up, because of your very high roll, there are apparently some newer arcane experiments regarding time and reality being fielded within the Soltryce Academy in Rexxentrum. A newer magical energy seems to have been discovered, or rediscovered, that can seemingly adjust such properties with ease. It's being referred to as "Dunamis."
| [
"DM",
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Across from the entrance is a set of wooden doors which he listens at. He hears nothing, but notices that the door is unlocked.
DM: You get the bonus if you're both like flanking them, or you're like harrying them in combat. Because you're at a distance, you don't get the bonus.
Player: Okay, so that is a nine. And then I'm going to follow-- the nine of damage.
DM: All right.
Player: And immediately follow up with my other dagger, which also hits.
DM: All right, go ahead and roll damage on the second dagger. Which is 1d4 plus what?
Player: Six. That's a nine.
DM: Nine, okay. So, after the guy rips his arm out of Keyleth's face, essentially, a dagger comes swinging out from behind the doorway, stabs him in the other shoulder. You see he looks down at it confused for a second, and as that dagger vanishes in a puff of dark smoke, returning to your-- the side of your hilt, he looks up just in time to see the second dagger catch him right in the middle of the forehead, and he just falls onto his back at that point, unmoving. That duergar is stripped.
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"DM",
"Player"
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Nott the Brave, a goblin rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Checking their stomachs, they find a lot of bones, meat, and black feathers. They surmise at least part of her family didn't survive, and decide they can't leave her there, bringing her with them to Berleben, a miserable-looking but functional village in the depths of the swamp.
DM: There are people walking through the streets. Some of them are carrying small sacks over their shoulder from one place to another, or in the process of wandering over to make about their business for the city, and they notice you approach, and they're slightly nosey, paying attention to these strangers that came in off the Byway.
Player: I'm going to cast Disguise Self on myself.
DM: Okay. To look like?
Player: A little halfling girl.
DM: All righty. (confused chirping)
Player: It's still me. I can change my body into other things, woo!
DM: (chirping) She seems fascinated and enthralled by this.
Player: Oh, here! Take my mask. Oh, but you have a beak.
DM: (clicking) It's terrifying.
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"DM",
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It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, He sees another statue, Vandran, which he also destroys. He ascends out of the water into a dark stone chamber, with a carving of a serpent with multiple carved eyes on its body. Watching.
DM: You place your face down into the water, and as opposed to the stone surface you've seen there, it is this vacuous black void. There, you see in a sudden instant, the eye opens up before you, the bright yellow light enveloping you. Suddenly, there's searing heat and you pull back out of the pool and the entire chamber is filled with blazing hot steam. It hurts at first, but then, it begins to feel nice. This burning sensation crawling across your body, going instead from pain to a surge of strength. Of control, of purpose. The voice again says, "Reward." As you look up around you the stone falls away and on the distance you can see that horizon once more. Now an endless ocean. You can see the faint ripples of waves across a sourceless bit of moonlight. There you see dozens of ships coming towards you. What do you do?
Player: Can I look behind myself real fast?
DM: You turn behind you and it is just darkness. Inky, infinite.
Player: A shit load of ships coming towards me. Cool. Are there any pigeons in this dream?
DM: Make a perception check.
Player: 16!
DM: No.
Player: Can I reach my hand out and try and control the ships?
DM: As you concentrate, looking towards the right of you, where it looks like four or five vessels are in a localized portion of this black, endless ocean. As you concentrate you see the water begin to boil beneath them.
Player: Yeah, we're going to go ahead and grab whatever the fuck that is and pull it up.
DM: You watch as the ocean fires up like a spire, a pillar of solid ocean water. The ships are scattered in different directions, as it slams them down once more, scattering them into thousands of pieces of splintered wood.
Player: Can I take both hands and do a coup de grace, two big (crashing) over the top?
DM: The center of the ocean parts, giving this slight vacuum. This dual-sided, abyssal crevice in the center of the ocean. On the opposite ends of where your hands rise, you watch the waves rise up and in one fell sweep, two solid crystalline walls of water slam together and then even out. As the ripples subside, all you can see are the thousands and thousands of glittering shards of what once were that armada.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They continue to attack both gators. Yasha is held in the jaws of one, and Nott by the other.
DM: You can get up to here, I'd say, if you move at the same pace. That's your movement. You have your action and your bonus still.
Player: I don't think I'm-- I'm not within 60 feet of any of them, am I? No, I guess I am to throw a thing. Can I use my bonus to move a little bit further onto the top of this tree?
DM: If you want to spend a ki point to do your step of the wind.
Player: My step of the wind? I can't get within range of them with my step of the wind though, right?
DM: Almost.
Player: Fuck. God damn it.
DM: Although if you aren't moving towards that tree and you move there instead--
Player: If I move straight?
DM: No, that's still the same. Yeah, just out of range.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The mist that was once Count Tylieri's body cannot escape from the force of the Wind Wall. However, Trinket is also bludgeoned by the heavy gusts.
DM: You take-- ooh, that's a ten-- 13 points of piercing damage as the bolt strikes you right in the chest, cracking your sternum a little bit. You're like, (groans) that's going to suck. You feel the scraping of the bone as it impacts. The two with the longswords against you, Grog.
Player: Yep.
DM: That is 18?
Player: Misses.
DM: That is a 12.
Player: Misses!
DM: Both of the blades come at you. One of them actually hits your shoulder, but it just sticks an inch into the flesh, and you just flex and the blade pops out. The second one swings out and you duck your head out of the way and it (whoosh) goes long and you just grin through the anger. That's awesome. Then these two are going to fire crossbows at you, Grog. That is going to be a 15?
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The frost worm bites Keyleth, who casts Blight as payback and heals herself. Vax asks Pike for healing, then hits the visible worm.
DM: "That, I'm afraid, would be me. (sly chuckle) Pleasure to meet you. I'm Warden Cyrus Hume. What is your name?"
Player: Cyrus Hume. I'm Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III of Whitestone.
DM: "This does me no service."
Player: It will.
DM: "Hmph."
Player: I am, of course, the newly appointed ambassador from Whitestone, and I have been brought down here because apparently you are holding one of my performers. A performer who is meant to be heading towards Whitestone in the next three weeks to perform for my sister.
DM: "Describe your performer, sir."
Player: Oh, small, plain, female. (dismissive sigh)
DM: (sighs heavily) "I know of the one you speak. The same one we're arguing-- I assume this other individual that just left is one of your performers as well."
Player: Yes, he is. He is one of the official performers-- they're supposed to be performing at the new coronation of a brand new temple in Whitestone. Much has been arranged, much has been paid for, and I don't want to explain any of this to the royal court.
DM: Make a deception check.
Player: Casting-- no, not yet. 13.
DM: Okay. He goes--
Player: If you were to be agreeable to helping us move this along, I would remember the favor. Whitestone would remember the favor.
DM: "Good. Well, listen. There are fines for damages, or she sits until tried. Now."
Player: Damages?
DM: "The damages to the Nervous Brook pub are estimated to be upwards of 450 gold pieces, and the fine for drunken battery and disturbing the peace amounts to 250 gold pieces. 700 total and I would gladly let you take that rabid dug-grubber off of my hands."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Vax dashes past Greenbeard towards Kevdak, one of the herd members outside the arena attempting to swipe at the rogue but only catching feathers from the Deathwalker's Ward, and attacks the paralyzed Thunderlord with both daggers in hand. The blades strike true, Vax sinking the weapons up to the hilt into the flesh of the goliath, and the rogue flees the arena, but not before he leaves some parting words for Kevdak.
DM: And with that, as you reach down and touch Grog with it, you see Grog's form shimmer for a second into dark shadow, and then vanish inside--
Player: And I want to fly on past and go up to the next roof.
DM: Okay. So Grog is currently off the table as he's locked inside the gauntlet.
Player: Where should I go, where should I go?
DM: Where are you going? As you rush away, you do get--
Player: I'm going to fly back into the-- I'm going to fly around the back of the big building.
DM: Back here, you mean?
Player: Yeah.
DM: Okay. We'll say for the purposes of this, you are back here.
Player: Okay.
DM: As you fly off from doing this, all of them swing wide at you, that's five attacks of opportunity against you. That's 20.
Player: Hits.
DM: That is 17.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They then made their way into the city of Deastok, to the Darrington Estate, and were led up into the study of Howaardt Darrington, father of Taryon. They all discussed the reasons of why Tary was brought back, the current financial state of the family, and the intent to resolve and remedy long-standing sins of the father through ' Taryon standing up and doing his family duty', from Howaardt's perspective.
DM: 30, okay. You gather the direction that he glanced. It was a cursory look, more to see if the individual in question was still in the room or not. But you got the direction of it, and you know exactly where he was looking-- three tables and that way there. He leaves for a bit, and the laughter is still rising and falling throughout the room. The musicians in the corner, which are two younger human boys and what appears to be a female goliath, who has the heavier drum in the center, who is like the mid-piece, the big (heavy drum noises). The two guys, one of them has a small set of lap drums, (light drum noises) the faster beats. And the guy to the left of her-- they could be brothers; you're not too sure, their features are similar but different enough, the ages seem off. The guy on the left has a series of small wooden blocks and what looks to be some sort of contraption that has three or four different small percussion instruments that are all fixed to it and so he is leaping between them all. For being just percussion, that variety is still making a cool melody. You're still able to find certain notes and certain blends where it still is a very different and unique atmosphere. They manage to bring to this crescendo the piece that you entered on, and it finishes. There is no real-- there is occasionally a couple of claps here and most everyone is busy about their own shit.
Player: All right, I clap. Excuse me, players?
DM: As they're both looking over to grab a drink to stop and the younger guy with a scruffy chin and this mop of hair that's a little wild glances over to you: "Yeah?"
Player: That was a really unique piece you guys just did there. Thank you.
DM: "You're welcome."
Player: You know, I have only ever heard music like that one time, and it wasn't here. It wasn't in this city, it was actually in Emon. What was his name? Dranzel. It was a musician named Dranzel-- this is a long shot, but you haven't come across a Dr. Dranzel in your travels? I've always wanted to hear him play again.
DM: "Can't say I have, sir. My apologies."
Player: Oh, shit.
DM: "Sorry. You guys ever heard of Dr. Dranzel?" And the other guy goes, "Nope."
Player: Orcish. Stylish hats.
DM: The goliath woman is sitting there and she is just staring off across the room and goes, "No." "Sorry, friend."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Yasha Nydoorin, a half-angel barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Fjord is quickly rendered unconscious, but uses Relentless Endurance to pop back up to one hit point. He is almost immediately hit into unconsciousness again.
DM: No, that was his movement. That's right, so he wouldn't move. He went top of the round. Thank you for the reminder of that. But he used his action to throw that. So that's all he has. That ends their go. Yasha, you're up.
Player: Okay, I'm going to move to the guy who's been attacking my boy, Fjord.
DM: This one here? All right. In the water or on the side?
Player: On the side.
DM: You got it.
Player: I would like to rage.
DM: Going the full Yasha, angry.
Player: Divine Fury, all the bits.
DM: Nott and Caleb, you're up next.
Player: Reckless. Okay, that hits. 19.
DM: 19 hits.
Player: Okay.
DM: So the first strike with the Divine, 3d6 plus seven.
Player: Ooh. 20.
DM: 20 points of damage on the first strike as you carve across its torso, it hisses back, still standing, though.
Player: Another--
DM: That's 2d6 plus five.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Trent says he would very much like to talk to her in the future. As he and Oremid leave, Caleb leans forward and looks at the ground.
DM: "Jester. Hold on just a second." She gets up and walks out of the room. A minute passes. Two minutes pass.
Player: Anything on the desk of value?
DM: On the desk of this woman who has left? There looks to be a small oil lantern set there that's flickering. It's well-made.
Player: Nice pen or anything?
DM: No, it looks like she took it with her.
Player: I keep waiting.
DM: About five minutes pass before she enters with a small parcel under her arm, and goes, "I believe this is to you, Jester, correct?" It's a small box about that big, it says "Jester" written in nice handwriting on it.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, You had discussed with them, last time, a plot - fixing their seemingly not-very-well-put-together plot into a better direction (thankfully) - to acquire a wax seal within the home of Lord Sutan, to create a letter that you feel would be incriminating. Then to infiltrate the High Richter's home, do the same, and then report them to the Lawmaster or whoever else you think would be of higher estate...
DM: "He's, I would say, not too terribly far from the Skyscape Park and where the Constellation Bridge tower stands. It's a three-story house, dark wood, gold leaf carving. It's a bit gaudy, hard to miss amongst some of the other ones there, although all of them are gaudy in their own right. Look for the three-story, iron-gated, dark greenwood building in that vicinity."
Player: Great. Will do. Another thing that we realized-- in our efforts to frame and forge, which are vast, you don't happen to have any handwriting from Lord Sutan, do you?
DM: "Unfortunately, no, most lords are very careful with documentation transfer back and forth, they usually go through direct parcel services."
Player: There was nothing that ousted you from your business, any sort of receipt, or--
DM: "Oh, no. (chuckles) Nothing that was directly from his hand, at least. They usually go through intermediaries for that purpose."
Player: Is there anyone else in the area that we should know that he does business with, that he might communicate with regularly?
DM: "I mean, that would be the one that replaced us--" And he nudges over to Horris on the side. "That would be--" I had that written down. Somewhere in here. Oh, shit, it's my older notes.
Player: There's a pen pal. And finding out who the pen pal is--
DM: Exactly.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Pumat Sol is out of healing potions, but Caleb buys 200 gp worth of paper, you buys a pearl of power, Nott buys two incendiary crossbow bolts, and Fjord buys an enchanted shield. The party discusses the Lawmaster’s offer and decides against it.
DM: "Providence it is. Enter, please." He leads you inside the hall of the king and there are the two archways between the clerk's center and the Lawbearer's small shrine within the chamber. He leads you down the right hallway past two sets of doors and there's a third door on the right that is partially ajar. As you enter it, you see a spacious if rather minimalistic chamber. It's a bare chamber beyond a bookcase, the desk, with a long bench in front of it, and a series of three small windows where the sunlight comes through-- or the light, there's not really sunlight at the moment because of the weather. Beyond that, it's white marble and fairly empty. There at the desk you see, her arms sprawled looking down over clusters of parchments, the Lawmaster Orentha Stonegrasp. Her gray hair has tumbled past her shoulders and her bangs have been pulled back like a natural circlet, keeping it out of her eyes. He pushes you into the chamber, she has a dark brown fur robe on. The cold morning air makes the room, especially the dark marble, very cold. She keeps it on for warmth. She looks up from the papers and greets you with a smile and goes, "Thank you for coming. That was mighty fast. Have a seat, if you don't mind. Thank you, Voloshin, close the door, if you could." "Of course, my dear." He closes the door, leaves you in there. "I wasn't expecting such a rapid response, but I appreciate your expediency."
Player: Well, we were right here.
DM: "That's fantastic. Please, have a seat. I'd like to discuss a few things with you if you don't mind. First off, congratulations yesterday. That was quite a display and a fantastic victory. Well--"
Player: Are we going to war?
DM: "I see you are aware of the shifts in our current imperial state of affairs. We haven't had war in generations. I'm hopeful that the conflict is swift, but I'll leave that concern to those with the right expertise. I'm tasked with keeping my people safe here, not on the front. Here. Now, wartime puts us in an unfortunate scenario. Zadash effectively governs the southern half of the empire and most of military might is now leaving us. Our Crownsguard will be stretched thin across keeping the peace and dealing with unrest and worry and protecting these walls from whatever pushes through the lines of battle and the general things that wander from beyond our boundaries. Money isn't an issue, but personnel is. There are outlying threats and criminals we no longer have the manpower for and as such, the Crown has approved an expanded mercenary budget. Now you've already proven your ability to me twice. Most recent, your skills in the Victory Pit showing you capable and loyal to the king. I know not your interest, but if you would come under contact, under my office as legionnaires of the empire, you would be responsible for protecting the lives of many innocent people. Now, under contract you would receive 15 gold a week per person as a stipend whether or not you were on contract or not. It could be at your leisure, months at a time with no work and you still get paid no matter what you do. Each assignment rewards its own bounty of course, case by case. The work I'll be presenting would largely involve the hunting of outstanding criminals, the acquisition of resources that may benefit the Empire in this time of war, and sometimes the extermination of dangerous creatures that threaten life away from the front lines. Now you'd all have credentials within the Empire and that will grant you access to supplies, pro bono. Access to empirical halls, and individuals otherwise restricted to the general populace."
Player: Would we get healing potions?
DM: "When they're available, those supplies are a bit stretched thin and put toward the front lines. We could probably muster what we can. Could I hope for your help on this?"
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They play, with an eventual 600 gold pot, and Fjord wins. The Gentleman tells them they've been keeping an eye on their activities, and that the party (at least a pretty good physical description of Molly and you) are wanted for the murder of the High-Richter.
DM: "That's fine. We'll see how long Sutan stays in there, he has his ways. Depending on how strong a case you've left behind, and a little finagling on our end, if our partnership grows mutually beneficial, perhaps we could push that over the edge for him, and keep him away for quite some time. Now apparently I've also heard they're still seeking the murderers of the High-Richter. Particularly a purple-skinned tiefling who was spotted not far from the home that night, with rather ostentatious clothing. As well as a wandering dark-skinned youth, a woman with physical capability. So that doesn't bode well for you, does it?"
Player: Sucks being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
DM: "Well, as seeing as how we're friends now, I can say that I could probably make this investigation go away."
Player: Is this an investigation that you caused to begin with?
DM: "No, this is an investigation that you caused."
Player: Doing your bidding.
DM: "No."
Player: Through one of your associates.
DM: "My associate was making sure that the events would transpire in our favor. But nevertheless, we were not the orchestrators of The Knights of Requital."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, K'Varn falls, but is immediately brought back to undeath by the Horn of Orcus. A ray from his eyestalk turns Kima to stone.
DM: Kind of floating right in the middle there. Put you there for the time being. All right, that brings us to Vex.
Player: Right, well, I'm gonna just do the Hail of Thorns again.
DM: All right.
Player: From above. Yes, as the first attack.
DM: You have disadvantage on this attack 'cause you have an earth elemental currently clutching--
Player: Oh, right. It's a 19?
DM: 19 just hits.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The party decides to leave it for now and possibly come back later. As they approach the Ounterloch which will lead them to the safe house, Febron is hit by another pollen blast and begins walking straight towards the lurking plant, but Calianna casts Levitate on him to keep him from stepping into it.
DM: "I don't know, I don't go into it. I recommend not getting too close, just in case. We usually stay right on the coastal side of it, you know?"
Player: Okay.
DM: "Perfect."
Player: (splashing)
DM: "No, what're you doing?! No, shit!"
Player: Then I go back out. I just wanted to see.
DM: The whole time you're doing that, Kiri's like (chirping). Who's keeping watch on this?
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, After a faithful re-meeting with the parents of Vex and Vax, discussions were had, hats were attempted to be stolen from the leader of the city —and successfully done so. The other half of agreements were... pseudo-achieved, and they made their way northward through the Evershifting Grasses to the outskirts of the Moonbrush, a heavy, heavy forested wood that will lead them to their destination after that, which is the Gilded Run, a series of rivers that wrap around their final destination, the Shademurk Bog, where apparently Fenthras exists.
DM: As you're stalking through, looking about, you catch a scent, a new scent. One you're unfamiliar with. It smells sweet, like a freshly fallen and opened fruit. You immediately instinctively look down and sniff across the ground. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a glow as you see two small, humanoid entities with pairs of wings flutter in in front of you and stop. What languages do you know?
Player: Elven, Sylvan, Primordial.
DM: Okay. You do understand what they're saying, as they are both talking to each other in Sylvan. One says, "I'm not familiar with this one! I don't think I've seen this creature in here before." The other one glances over and goes, "You don't think she could've done it?"
Player: What was that last bit? Sorry.
DM: "You don't think that she could've done it? It's just a cat. Is it, though?" They both get closer and inspect you. They're both rotating around your face and fluttering. One starts pulling on your ear a little bit, tugging on it.
Player: I start purring.
DM: "It's okay." They move underneath, under your neck, and scratch just a little bit. The other one backs up and goes, "We have to keep looking. Something did this."
Player: I wait for a second, and then start stalking them.
DM: You follow them?
Player: Yeah.
DM: Okay. The rest of you guys are taking a rest. You continue reading.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Many of the townsfolk gathered at that square were immediately killed. The party, as well as a few other straggling survivors, ran away as both the gargantuan black and green dragons began to chase them down.
DM: I don't believe saves are ability checks, unfortunately, so that wouldn't affect that. Yeah, it is its own circumstance.
Player: It's its own circumstance? In that case, I'm going to spend my point for Deadeye.
DM: Okay. Advantage on the shot.
Player: Advantage on the shot.
DM: Go for it.
Player: And do I want to go nuts? I'm going to go nuts. I'm going to add Sharpshooter to that, might as well.
DM: You cannot overlap the shots. No, only one shot effect on an attack at a time, sorry.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The frost worm bites Keyleth, who casts Blight as payback and heals herself. Vax asks Pike for healing, then hits the visible worm.
DM: The other clerk is probably a new hire, you haven't seen him here before. Young, early 20s, very, very thin hair, kind of waify. "Lockpicks? This isn't--"
Player: Yeah, you know. I keep locking myself in the shitter and I'm really tired of asking people to come let me out. It's really--
DM: "I wish I could help. Those are outlawed, I'm sorry. That's not really--"
Player: Look, I've got these huge clumsy-fuck hands. Is there anything you could give me, maybe magical, that would just keep me from being embarrassed in front of my friends? It smells so bad and then they all come and the door opens and it's just awful!
DM: As you're getting closer and closer to him, this, looming goliath who's feigning fear and worry in his face, the guy just retracts. "I'm sorry! I don't-- We're closing shop!"
Player: No, do you have like a wand or a potion or like, a thing--
DM: "Good night!" And he runs up the stairs to the second floor.
Player: Fucking shit. Lovely goods you have here. I'll let myself out.
DM: "We'll come with you don't worry!" He puts his other arm out.
Player: All right.
DM: The three of you arm in arm.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Pike realizes she has seen this place in a vision, as well as a cavern of blue crystal beyond it. They decide to cross it.
DM: Okay, so. (grunts) You get up to the top. I'll put this here as a reminder. But that's where you are right now. Okay, that ends your turn. Scanlan!
Player: Is there anywhere I can stay on the dance floor and get a line of sight with the creature?
DM: I'll say you'll be able to get right up next to Tiberius, right here, and be able to get line of sight.
Player: And can I throw lightning and not hit Tiberius?
DM: No.
Player: (nervous laugh) Okay, then. Then I don't do that. Instead, I will-- I've got nothing to do! Let's say I will try to-- is she-- it's a he.
DM: It's a he.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, He warns the rest of the Mighty Nein as combat continues. A crew member unfurls the sail, which is plain, attempting to escape the area.
DM: Misses, yeah. You (bash) with your shield. Ricochets off, no issue. That's going to be the end of the Enforcers' turn. Jester, you're up.
Player: Okay. Am I within 60 feet of this guy?
DM: You look like you're-- it's close.
Player: Okay, I'm going to step forward a little bit. There, there... sure.
DM: Okay. (counting) Yeah, he's within 60 feet.
Player: Okay I'm going to cast Hold Person at third level on both him and him.
DM: Ooh! All right. He-- the guy with Marius-- rolls a natural 17. The guy next to Beau rolls a natural three.
Player: Okay, well, he's paralyzed.
DM: (singing) Paralyzed.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They are pulled into the center and announced as The Mighty Nein's final round. Knowing the Stubborn Stock is watching from behind the distant doorways that lead into the central arena, the members of the Mighty Nein all scattered about the sands as the sun begins to get close to dusk, shouting out their various plans and then abandoning them last minute.
DM: Roll for attack, go for it. As Jester releases her grip, this giant, heavy-looking but gorgeous glittering lollipop apparates out of the air, streaking down towards the goblin's face. Not the goblin, the ogre's-- giant's face. It's been a week.
Player: 16!
DM: 16 hits, roll damage.
Player: That slipped out of my hand. It doesn't count if it slips out of your hand. Ten points of damage! That's my bonus. For my actual thing, can I do a cantrip?
DM: Yes, you can.
Player: Yeah! I'm going to Sacred Flame him! He's got to roll dexterity over 14.
DM: He rolled a 14, but has minus one dex.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Grog suggests that someone should check and make sure that it's just a statue. you goes up to inspect it.
DM: There you go. As you step up and inspect the back of the statue, the stonework is very well done, and there is a very, very faint magical essence to this statue. It's so miniscule, and the only reason you're able to pick it up is you're so fine-tuned to seeking out that presence. It doesn't have a specific form; it doesn't have a specific school of magic applied to it. It just has a general, faint magical aura.
Player: Is it carved out of the rock?
DM: It's carved out of the white stone.
Player: Got you. But it's not magically trapped?
DM: Correct. It doesn't appear to have any sort of strong magical presence for a specific purpose.
Player: And if we touch it, we're not going to be possessed or something.
DM: You don't think so.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, It looks like really, really raw meat, purplish-red with jagged bone shards sticking out everywhere and seeping sludgy blood. you offers some to Vax, who declines but places a hand on you's shoulder.
DM: Using the bone as the utensil, okay. As you spool it up, pop it in and chew, it's-- it's very gamey. It's warm. But the flavor, it's-- it's very iron-like.
Player: Like chewing on pennies.
DM: Kind of, yeah, and a similar texture. The bones do tear into parts of your upper lip.
Player: Ah.
DM: It hurts.
Player: Ah.
DM: I'd say, in the process of devouring this one bite, you do suffer-- You suffer two points of piercing damage.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Mollymauk Tealeaf, a tiefling blood hunter . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Dwelma cast Dispel Magic ending the effects of Caleb's Slow spell and moved away from you. Beau was able to stop her from completely running away, but she was now out of the range of Lorenzo's spell.
DM: Thank you for sticking with us. I know this is going late, but I want to see how this turns out. We've been gone for two weeks. Consider it a bonus episode.
Player: There's no way I can make it to Lorenzo from here, is there?
DM: It's possible.
Player: Not anymore.
DM: You can climb over the cart if you want to.
Player: I'm going to get my ass kicked if I get there. I'm going to try and engage the barbarian before raging happens.
DM: It's up to you.
Player: God damn it. Fuck it, if you're in with Lorenzo, I'm going for Lorenzo.
DM: Okay, make an acrobatics check to try and get over the cart without issue.
Player: Ten.
DM: Ten? You lose some movement, but you still have enough to get right there. That's as close as you get. Lorenzo's technically supposed to be in that space.
Player: I'm going to take three attacks. I do not have advantage, obviously.
DM: No, you do not.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The party then, in trying to locate Grog's position, found their way, delving past the lava-fall of the obsidian rock duergar-Underdark, deeper in, discovering this cursed pit of undeath, bone shards, and glass. Upon traversing it they encountered one of these abominations that they've seen traces of left before—this weird, partial-elven, partial-tentacle monstrosity that slashed through the party, nearly killed Trinket, but was defeated by Vox Machina .
They managed to make their way across this bone field and discover what appears to be a camp across a number of pillars in the distance.
DM: You pull back and the giant war hammer swings past you and you duck out of the way. Thankfully, though the duergar are relatively small, you're much smaller, and as a gnome you slip right out of the path of the actual hammer blow. Your first arrow misses, second one you said hits?
Player: 25.
DM: 25 definitively hits. Go ahead and roll damage.
Player: Ugh, why? Why? Oh, I'm cursed today! Eight.
DM: Eight damage.
Player: Eight damage.
DM: All right, so, after he swings past Scanlan, who ducks out of the way, one arrow (whizzing sound effect) just cruises over his head and you hear it scattering and clattering against the rocks in the distance. He looks over in your direction as the second one just grazes his shoulder. You can see a little bit of blood begin to spill, but it doesn't even turn his head towards the wound, he's still just glaring at you angrily while you throw your dagger from behind. Him not even aware of your presence, currently.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, While looking through the house, you and Keg noticed the horses outside starting to get nervous.
DM: Spell's lost, Molly and Caleb start running out of the home to the tree line. And you're just going up on the roof?
Player: Is there a roof to be got upon?
DM: You're still on horseback, you can jump off your horse.
Player: No, I jumped off my horse to feel the ground.
DM: Right, right. So you're leaving your horse there and if-- you can try and look up on the roof. Part of it's collapsed. You don't know the state it's in, but you can try.
Player: I'll get on my horse and head for the tree line with everyone else.
DM: Okay (galloping). You start heading back to the tree line. What are you guys doing?
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The dominated guard, who had been pointing his crossbow at Scanlan, quickly turns and aims at Sir Kerrion. you'ahlia ducks her head into the room and shoots at Sir Kerrion from her Longbow of the Sky Sentinel.
DM: Correct. That was one of them. You fire it, it splits into three along the way, and you roll for each attack on each arrow.
Player: Oh, that one doesn't hit. Well, probably not. 13?
DM: No.
Player: 18?
DM: 18 unfortunately does not hit, either.
Player: Jeez Louise, what a waste of a storm arrow.
DM: And you still get a fourth attack with your second--
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Adra is at the door, nervous, as Trinket is being prodded into the fighting ring in the tavern by some dwarves. you worriedly rushes down to the tavern's main room and tries to disengage Trinket.
DM: Okay, as you guys head down, you can see now Balgus is now up and rubbing his chin. "Oh, never fought a bear before! "
Player: No, Balgus! Fuck! Trinket, come here! Are we allowed to cuss? Trinket, come here!
DM: You are very much allowed to cuss.
Player: Okay.
DM: Isn't that right, guys? Fuck yeah!
Player: No, no, and I run into the ring with him.
DM: Okay, as you run into the ring a couple of the dwarves pat you on the back, you get a shove into the ring. It's now Trinket and you--
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They then encountered a very elderly goliath that Grog hadn't seen in quite some time named Shale, who spoke of the scouting crew that had been obliterated by the dragon. They followed Shale as she led them up the mountain, to where the dragon's current lair resides.
DM: She shushes you. Puts her finger up and shushes you, then steps up and looks at you. The hardness in her face softens, and there is a little bit of tears gathering at the edge of her eyes when she says, "Don't you die. You stay alive."
Player: I don't intend to. But you know, I was just inside a--
DM: "You're. Not. Going. To die. You're going to go do your stupid world-saving mission like you told me, and you're going to come back, and we're going to have a lot to talk about."
Player: All right.
DM: "All right. Can you do that for me?"
Player: I promise you. I promise you.
DM: "I'll hold you to that."
Player: Well, you do the same, all right? Stay safe. I got you a present. It's a ring. It's a beautiful ring because you're a beautiful girl, and I'd like you to keep it.
DM: She takes it and looks at it and goes, "Are you sure this wasn't for someone else?"
Player: No. Never.
DM: She puts it on.
Player: And you're also strong, and you'll need this sword. And I give her my Singing Dawn Blade, which has a unique little imperfection at the bottom of it, and I say, this sword has killed a king, which makes it almost worthy enough for you. I hope that it keeps you safe until I can see you again.
DM: "I don't know what to say. I'll start with thank you. Well, I feel pretty well protected."
Player: Okay. Get out of here. If you can, try to make your way to Vasselheim. There's three more dragons, and it'll be a while before I kill them all.
DM: "I don't know, you've done quite a bit of work in even these past few weeks. Vasselheim. I'll talk it over with the doctor. See what he's interested in. You promised."
Player: Gnome's honor.
DM: She reaches up and grabs your shirt and gives you a kiss on the forehead. And then pushes you away and says, "Get out of my fucking face." Turns around and walks back towards Dr. Dranzel.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, In each corner of the room is a six-inch hole leading to a slowly-descending tube. They find a key and some jewels on the bodies of the priestesses, and shove the limbs of the bodies into the corner holes to plug them.
DM: Glancing at her expression, she's enthralled and there's a moment where her head turns and you see a flash of jealousy in her eyes, and then it reverts back and she goes, "That sounds incredible."
Player: How long has it been for you?
DM: "A few years, about."
Player: Yeah, you know, beginner's luck, right?
DM: "Apparently." Her eyes are still locked on yours and she leans forward and takes her fingers and puts them through the side of your hair and goes, "I can trust you, right?"
Player: Of course.
DM: "And you trust these people?"
Player: With my life.
DM: "Good. Good." She puts her fingers the rest of the way through your hair, through the back of your head, pulls you close and headbutts you a little bit and lets you go, and gets up and walks off.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Ghurrix then slams his tail into Vax and follows that attack by swinging his mace in a backhand motion, but it whooshes over the rogue's head. The pit fiend flies down to the other side of the building, staying out of sight of the rest of Vox Machina.
DM: 16? No. Now, the erinyes, which is up against you, Grog, let's see. Yep! It's going to go ahead and first reach off to the side and take its rope that it has. Throws it out in your direction. The rope suddenly sparks to life like a magical snake and begins wrapping around your body rapidly.
Player: Not nice.
DM: All right, go ahead and make either a strength or dexterity check.
Player: I have advantage on both. No, strength. Natural 20.
DM: No effect.
Player: I did not do that in a gloating way, because I feel like that was very lucky.
DM: The rope that tries to wrap around you bursts off and whips back to the side. The erinyes is now going to attempt to fly back and away from you, which is going to offer you an attack of opportunity, Grog.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Grog wants to destroy the orbs but Vex and Scanlan caution against it, not wanting to alert Thordak. Vex checks out the mast.
DM: Eventually you make your way back to Scanlan's Magnificent Mansion and gather the rest of the party. Percy, Kima, Keyleth and Vax are all there, resting and eagerly awaiting your return.
Player: I've got to try and fix my guns.
DM: Okay, make some tinkering checks.
Player: Is this a misfire check or a tinkering check, since I'm not in combat?
DM: These are tinkering checks.
Player: Okay, so it's proficiency bonus, dex roll. Ooh, 28!
DM: That's your Animus?
Player: Yep, that's fine.
DM: I believe Bad News was also?
Player: Yup. 26.
DM: 26 is fine. You manage to get Bad News functioning again in the workshop below. And Retort was okay, right?
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, As well as that, they do some other activites, with Scanlan helping to set up a library and commissioning a painting of himself to hang in Greyskull Keep. Vax also contacts Gilmore to ask for his help with reopening trade in Whitestone.
DM: Natural one on his part. He looks genuinely frightened and is about to back up and get the attention of the barmaid who's running this event and he sees the crowd around.
Player: I mean, you're a farmer, right? You handle food.
DM: He spits in his hand, puts it out and grabs your hand. The barmaid once again. "And-- prove your strength!" Roll a strength check. He has disadvantage.
Player: 21.
DM: Natural one. He's already straining and the back of his knuckles are immediately up against the wood. You can see fear in his eyes and he's gripping, but he's also trying to move his fingers to make sure he doesn't make too much contact with your hand. Go ahead and roll another strength check.
Player: 11.
DM: At which point, he sees the grin on your face and gets his will back behind him and (grunts) forces you back to the center. Make another strength check.
Player: Oh, shit. Seven.
DM: Natural 20.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Scanlan casts Eyebite to sicken the worm. Keyleth, out of turn order, instructs the team to get in view and within range of what she presents as a Fly spell.
DM: Correct. Yep. Yep. As you release the arrow from the actual tension of the bow, as soon as it leaves your fingers it almost burns the tips as it races into this arrow of pure energy. As it divides in the middle of the air, you can see each arrow sparking off bits of electrical power on its--
Player: Okay, so the first one is a 26.
DM: Hits.
Player: Should I roll damage for that one?
DM: Roll to see how many hit.
Player: The second one is a 29.
DM: Hits.
Player: The third one is a 20.
DM: 20 hits. Yeah, all three hit.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Caleb Widogast, a human wizard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Nott grudgingly says she'll talk to you about it, and they give her the things they need identified. Molly throws in an extra platinum coin.
DM: You back away from it, and it dissipates over the next 30 or so seconds. You keep watch to see if anybody else notices, and it doesn't. It rises up, and thankfully by the time it would hit the roof as a smoke beacon, it mostly has dissipated enough in the sky where it doesn't cause a column of visible darkness. The edge that you're catching of it, the little bit that's wafting through, has this very fine metallic smell to it, almost. The brief bit that catches your nostrils, you feel your sinuses open up very abruptly, and like a mouth full of wasabi, it's like (coughing). Eventually it clears out, and you walk inside.
Player: So not a ball of fiery death.
DM: No, not a ball of fiery death.
Player: Okay, so it's cleared away, Schmidt's gone, I assume.
DM: Schmidt is--
Player: Well, if it wasn't damage-dealing, he's still there.
DM: It might have been damage-dealing.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Tiberius Stormwind, a dragonborn sorcerer . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Keyleth makes sure he won't bleed to death. Vax and Keyleth intimidate the guards into letting the tiefling leave and bring the driver in their keep's holding cell.
DM: "We need to go ahead and notify--" at this point you can see now, Tiberius, you've stepped up in front of the stairs as Allura comes rushing out to inspect everything and sees you.
Player: (groaning, fumbling) And I go to Lockheed, and I use my telepathic bond that I have with my pet. And I convey to him, to tell her, I emote to him, with my telepathic link with him, and I (foreign words).
DM: You can't even form language thoughts.
Player: That's what I emote to him.
DM: You can give him an emotion. That's the most you can get to him right now
Player: Right, and I try to have him telepathically tell her.
DM: Tell her what emotion?
Player: Help.
DM: Okay.
Player: I do this.
DM: She steps forward and says, "Tiberius--"
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Nott the Brave, a goblin rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, you says that they've been very clear that they're in this for what they can grab for themselves. She corrects Fjord's assumption that she relies on Caleb for protection, saying it's the other way around.
DM: From there you can see your friends. You can see Fjord. You can see the creature. You can see the shadow form out of the side. You can see Beau, with a hint of Molly poking out of the darkness.
Player: All right, I'm going to shoot the shadow form.
DM: All right, go for it. Roll for an attack.
Player: (yelps) 20.
DM: A 20 hits. Roll damage.
Player: Sneak attack? MATT Sure. Technically, yeah, because these are considered one space, there. Okay. 16.
DM: Okay, you watch as it dissipates. The impact hits it, and you see it react slightly, and then vanish into vapor.
Player: It was all in my imagination! That's it. That's all I got.
DM: All right, Jester, you're up.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Caduceus Clay, a firbolg cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The crew had been waiting a number of days, the repairs had been completed on Bisaft Isle. You guys decided to call it an evening and rest up.
DM: Depends on what you're looking for. There is a blacksmith by the name of Keisha Budan who does most of the metalwork for the ship repairs and other general goods that require metalwork around the island.
Player: Keisha?
DM: As you approach the space she has-- you can tell from the large smokestack pouring out of the top of the forge that she keeps-- but as you approach, you can see a young woman in her late 20s or so, massive arms, her thick black hair pulled back into a tuft, and she has a leather apron on. You can see now a lot of metal reinforcements used for holding beams together in shipbuilding, and she's laying them out one by one as she finishes hammering and then quenching and then hammering and quenching. As you walk up, she rubs her brow. "Can I help you?"
Player: Possibly not. Seems like you have your hands full right now. I was hoping to, at the very least, get a professional opinion about something.
DM: "I can do my best. I don't get many like your height in here, anyway."
Player: That's what they tell me.
DM: "At the very least, I'm looking forward to sating my curiosity."
Player: Well, I've recently taken to travelling, which, very new experience for someone of my disposition, and I came across something interesting and I was curious if you had an opinion on what this is and how one might fix it. I pull out a broken sword.
DM: She takes it.
Player: I was really hoping to be doing something with this at some point, and giving it as a gift to a friend who could use a pick-me-up.
DM: "This is very good craftsmanship. I could not do this. Unfortunately, the break is very bad. Do you have the other part of the weapon?"
Player: Sadly, I don't. It may not exist.
DM: "If given maybe a week with the right materials, I could maybe try to work on it, but honestly, your best bet is probably to go into the coast. We don't do much in the way of masterwork weapon craftsmanship here on Bisaft. My apologies."
Player: Oh, that's all right. They're definitely trying hard to get us to leave a little sooner than we'd necessarily like to.
DM: "It has been very busy this past day or two."
Player: Has everything been all right, by the way? This seems like a lot of commotion.
DM: "It's a lot of commotion, but they'll be gone soon. We get waves of people coming through."
Player: Well, thank you so much for your time. I don't know what I could possibly do in return other than offer my gratitude.
DM: She sits up for a second and looks you over. "Can I have a hug?"
Player: Yeah. I go in.
DM: She goes and takes it and cuddles you.
Player: You want the spine lift?
DM: "Yeah."
Player: All right.
DM: "Thank you. You're quite fuzzy, and I was curious."
Player: Oh, thank you, it was a pleasure. I look forward to coming your way again one of these days.
DM: "Any time. We're here on the island. Nowhere else to go."
Player: This is awfully nice.
DM: "There are worse places to live, I'll tell you that. Have a good day. What's your name?"
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, However, upon noticing that some of the buildings on the eastern side of town began to light up with what appeared to be flame, you began to approach rather rapidly, seeing members of the city's citizens fleeing, screaming, and apparently there seemed to be some sort of attack. Upon going into the town, you realized that a number of these buildings were being set fire by an incursion of Gnolls.
DM: It catches you right in the middle of the sternum. The armor takes the brunt of it and it mostly just snaps at the impact, but it hurt. It'll bruise. That ends the remaining gnoll's turn. Next up would be Beau.
Player: Oh, are there any close to me?
DM: There's one you can close the gap with. There's only one that's currently standing in the room, the other one's been killed. It was shocked to death by Nott.
Player: Okay, I'll close the gap and come at it with a big double swing from my staff.
DM: Go for it.
Player: Finally a decent roll. 19.
DM: 19 hits, go ahead and roll damage.
Player: Six plus four. That's ten points of damage.
DM: Ten points of damage, that's enough to do it. It had already been damaged previously by Fjord's Eldritch Blast and you watch as it snarls and pulls out its bow, pulls back, notches and releases the arrow. Moments after it's released, with a quick burst of action you saunter up to its side and hit it across the torso with the stick. You feel seven different ribs break as it doubles forward. As it looks at you for a second, you take where the staff has broken in and jam upward to where its lungs would be and it (chokes) and falls to the ground, dead.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, It hits and he feels poison begin to course through him, but he manages to resist it. The erinyes flies to the top of the tower in the center of the area.
DM: Bigby's Hand can lift you up to about there. So you can see, with half cover, the erinyes down there, and three-quarters cover from the--
Player: Oh, I can see them now? Oh, that's great! How far away are they from me?
DM: It's hard to say. I'd say probably anywhere between 50, 60 feet? The erinyes is a little closer. She's maybe 35, 40 feet from you.
Player: (softly) Fuck. All right, I will-- shit. I don't care about the fucking erinyes thing. If I take a lightning shot at the pit fiend, will I hit Vax?
DM: You can probably aim it so it wouldn't.
Player: Can I get it so close to him that he's frightened for a second?
DM: Sure, you can do that!
Player: It's such a weak attack, though. Shit. Shit! All right, sure, I'll take it. I'll do a Lightning Bolt-- No! I'm not, I'm going to hold my attack until one of them gets closer. I'm going to hold a spell. Do I have to declare it now?
DM: You have to declare the spell.
Player: Shit.
DM: And whatever the trigger is.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Avantika had a head start on you, but he managed to catch up and reach the end of the tunnel at the same time as her. The two began to scrape grime off the floor.
DM: As the two of you are currently scraping bits of grime and algae off the ground, there are bits of plants that are growing up like lightless kelp that seems to have made some sort of a living down here in this subterranean, water-filled chamber. As you're pushing through and scraping around, your hand scoops this large bit of grime from in front of you and you can see a stone relief at the very base of the bottom, a concave, spherical shape about the size of a fist.
Player: Uh huh.
DM: She notices it, looks at it, looks at you. What are you doing?
Player: Could I try and stick my hand in my chest?
DM: You can.
Player: Does it go anywhere?
DM: You go and jam your hand and its hitting your armor. You have a full-on leather plate right there.
Player: I don't know what to do. Like the size of a fist? It's a sphere, right?
DM: It's about that big, and you can see it is concave. It's about the size of the stone that you'd found.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, She tests the roots of the cursed tree for any illusory magic, but it is solid and real. Grog attempts to level up the Titanstone Knuckles by destroying the kitchen, much to Scanlan's consternation.
DM: 20 points of damage to him. Nice. As you release the arrow, it sticks into his chest. (chuckles) "You will--" (explosion sound) It just bursts in his chest, these thorns go spraying into him and the nearby area, just like a pipe bomb went off in his chest, and he's just like (gasping roar of pain). All right. And do you want to move or stay where you are?
Player: I'm gonna stay where I am.
DM: Okay.
Player: But I'm gonna hold onto that tree.
DM: Okay, you grapple onto that tree. End of your turn, he's gonna use his last legendary action to make one attack with Fenthras back at you out of anger. That is a 25.
Player: That hits me.
DM: All right.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Towards the core and the back of this final defending pocket of uncorrupted forest is a stone building, windowless and overgrown. Nila determines that whatever the corruption is, it is not natural, and that there is some much older and much more powerful latent reasoning for it.
DM: Looking through, there are a few languages that come through, most of them are elven and they are very old. Some of them appear to be 100, 200, 400-500 years old. Whatever individuals or families or bloodlines have been interred in this space have been placed here for a very long time, until recently.
Player: Until recently, okay.
DM: You do see one that appears to be maybe about ten years old. Very faint elements of wear and tear.
Player: What's the name?
DM: The name on that one would be Elvish and it would be Tyriel Casala.
Player: Tyriel Castala?
DM: Casala.
Player: Casala.
DM: She knows Elvish, but she doesn't really speak it often, so the pronunciations get a little weird.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, She tests the roots of the cursed tree for any illusory magic, but it is solid and real. Grog attempts to level up the Titanstone Knuckles by destroying the kitchen, much to you's consternation.
DM: It's your call. It's a tough circumstance here, because to hit the treant from your perspective, you'd have to hit behind it, but you have no view behind it because you're on the ground.
Player: Got it. Got it. All right.
DM: I mean, if you want to try that, I'll give you a roll, and based on how good you roll it may or may not hit an ally.
Player: Then I will not risk it and I will just Fireball good old Sondur, I guess.
DM: All righty. How many more--
Player: I'll use three more charges. I have seven total.
DM: Okay. Seven total left? Or total?
Player: Total. So I've used three.
DM: Well no, you used five last time.
Player: I thought the first one is just three balls? No? I don't know how this shit works.
DM: What does it say on the actual item?
Player: I don't have it anymore. I lost it months and months ago. (All laugh.)
DM: It's a good thing it's in the DM's Guide. God damn it, Sam. Let me know these things, I can get you the item printout.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, She asks the duo who they are. The footsteps stop twenty feet in front of her.
DM: Head's down. The footsteps slow when they get about 20 feet from you. And they stop. You keep your head down. The dwarf figure brings one weird, swollen, twisted arm in front of the other, crosses it. The chained figure, you hear all the jangling, shifting, and as you get a better glance over your shoulder towards it, you can see the chains that dangle don't just dangle, they're all kind of slowly shifting and spinning around, like hundreds of small snakes that are just readjusting and moving across the body. You can see its eyes, part of its nose through as the chains pull across and hide most of its features. The skin itself a deep, deep pinkish-red, like a normal body that's been constricted so much that all the blood has rushed to the surface.
Player: Off-the-cuff, do they seem familiar? Any idea on who they might be?
DM: No. But there is a heavy breathing from the female dwarf figure that just-- they glance at each other.
Player: I say, do you want to tell me? You want to tell me who you are? 'Cause I don't have a lot of time to deal with this.
DM: The chained one says, "You seem to walk with a white one."
Player: Who's asking?
DM: "I am asking."
Player: 'I' could be referred to many people, including myself. So I am asking--
DM: "Silence. You will bring us the white one, or you will be tribute yourself."
Player: What do you want with him?
DM: There's no response.
Player: I don't think you'd want me as tribute, so you'd best bet tell me what you want with him, because maybe we could strike a deal.
DM: "The white one caught the attention of a creature that I wish to see pleased."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Nott the Brave, a goblin rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The guards attack. Caduceus casts disguise self and takes the image of a drunken, pirate-y old man and makes his way around the houses that line the dock, taking the long way around towards the boat.
DM: He gets up to the top of the edge of the ship. And... let me roll for him to see if-- that's actually pretty good, okay. He glances about the scenario, takes in his chances and what's happening, and stands up and goes, "Hold! Hold please! This is a big misunderstanding! Let's talk this out!"
Player: To us, or everybody?
DM: To the guards. For the sake of this, I'm going to have one of you guys roll for him. Who wants to roll his--
Player: I will roll.
DM: Persuasion check with disadvantage.
Player: Terrible. Both were threes.
DM: No.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Nott and Yasha kill one before she can fly away holding one of the crew. Caleb casts Fear and forces two more to flee.
DM: Okay. There's the one on the back that's near death, it's going to attempt to fly away as well. It's going to move and dash. That's 80 feet out, and it's trying to catch up with the other two. Now there's three of them fleeing. That one, that one, and that one. All right. The two that are attacking-- there's two that are attacking the mast. One picked him one, one that's singing. I know, I'm trying to remember where it is. Okay, yeah. There we go. There's the one that tried to grab the one deckhand, it's going to swoop down and try and grab him again because he hasn't made his way fully in. Does manage to grab him. Swoops down, only gets partial, only 15 feet up with him. That's its turn. Let's see, the other two are going to go ahead-- Two are fleeing. That's fleeing. Oh, there's only one that's free. That one is going to attempt to attack one of the other sails because there's multiple sails up at that point. A smaller one. You know what? No, it's going to come after you since you're the one that's holding the sail. It's going to swoop down and attack you with claws.
Player: Come at me, bitch.
DM: That is a-- actually surprising, an 18.
Player: Miss.
DM: I think that misses you. Oh, it's at disadvantage, too, because you have your--
Player: Patient Defense.
DM: Yes. Second attack. Yeah, misses with both.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Caleb Widogast, a human wizard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They return to the Blushing Tankard, where Ireena eplains the rules and introduces the defending champion team headed by Ol' Blemmy. The Nein outbid other teams for the right to compete, anteing 30 gold, and decide that Jester will sit out the contest, leaving their contestants as Beau, you, Fjord, Molly, and Nott.
DM: "Next up, we have Valkin!" You see now, this very young-- looks like the runt of his family line of gnomes-- comes forward. Looks very thin, bright-eyed, and very stark contrast to the rest of them, as he gets closer to the table and sits down. "Who's my competitor?"
Player: Ja hello, my name is Caleb.
DM: Puts out a hand, "Caleb, it's a pleasure."
Player: It's a pleasure.
DM: "Best of luck. May the best gnome win."
Player: Let's enjoy a good game. Did you just say, "May the best gnome win?"
DM: "Yes."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, A black iron gate surrounds the property. The party circles around the building, looking for the best entrance, and notices a cellar door and several windows on the first floor.
DM: There is the gate. The gate, and what looks to be a few rocks and a couple small trees that are on the actual grounds of the house surrounding it.
Player: Is the cellar door hidden from view of everything or is it out in the open?
DM: Which one?
Player: The cellar door that we saw.
DM: The cellar door is out in the open, buttressed against the back of the house. It's up against the ground on the side. It has two doors that open up and lead into the cellar below.
Player: Does it look like anybody can see us?
DM: From where you're standing? No. You're going to be hardpressed to get across without being in sight of somebody if someone were nearby.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, With Caleb's dancing lights glowing ahead, The Mighty Nein row down the underground river, coming to smaller gaps every few miles in which the boat containing Yasha, Nott and Caleb pulls ahead in a friendly race. Throughout the journey, Jester fantasizes about Tusk Love, casting you as the hero, Oskar.
DM: You watch as the moisture from the air and some of the water droplets from the river, from the splashing of the boat suddenly stick up and congeal in ice form around the outside of Fjord's body.
Player: Hex is still maintained on that bastard, right?
DM: Correct.
Player: So I can roll 1d6. Or do I, for the-- I cast Hex on the one that was on Nott.
DM: It only takes the 1d6 damage when you damage it.
Player: Oh shit, right.
DM: That ends Fjord's turn. Another one swoops down and is going to attempt to envelope the one that scorched its ally.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Mollymauk Tealeaf, a tiefling blood hunter . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, You had discussed with them, last time, a plot - fixing their seemingly not-very-well-put-together plot into a better direction (thankfully) - to acquire a wax seal within the home of Lord Sutan, to create a letter that you feel would be incriminating. Then to infiltrate the High Richter's home, do the same, and then report them to the Lawmaster or whoever else you think would be of higher estate...
DM: Ten. Nothing easily does so. You can try and pry one of the panes out, but there’s a decent chance it might break in the process if you’re not careful.
Player: That’s fine.
DM: You’re going to try? You take one of your blades and you wedge it up underneath where the metal bar is, it’s holding the pane in place to see if you can wedge it out. Go ahead and make a straight dexterity check.
Player: Nope. One.
DM: It shatters and breaks on both sides of the window. You watch as the window shatters outward--
Player: I’m going to jump out of it.
DM: The pane itself is about that big, so you’re going to take more of the window with you to do it.
Player: Yeah, that’s okay.
DM: All right! You shoulder-roll-leap through, shattering the window out of the infirmary, rolling into the alley. You see this happen as Molly is a chaotic spill of glass shards and purple skin.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Caleb Widogast, a human wizard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The Wharfmaster has heard of Marius LePual, a dubious sort of prick, and he's probably hanging out at a waterfront dive somewhere. The other party members go to the Mother's Lighthouse, where Gladys, the Lightkeeper, is a follower of Melora and admits them because Caduceus is, too.
DM: "Depending. When he disappears to do most of his work beneath in the Sluice-- something. There are two submerged gates in the harbor."
Player: The Sluice Weave, perhaps you are talking about?
DM: "The Sluice Weave, yes." Not that you'd know that, technically.
Player: You said Sluice Weave. Oh, they said it? Eh, shit happens. Forget it.
DM: It's fine, it's all good.
Player: Banished from the game!
DM: I know. You're done! Caleb is murdered. No.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Grog sprints directly into the mansion with Pike in his arms. you'ildan rockets towards the mansion door, stabbing Ghurrix in the face as he passes.
DM: You could use your haste attack to hit him on the way through, and that can only be used as an attack anyway, because that's the nature of the haste bonus. You can use your action to neutralize the poison.
Player: All right, question for Matt, and I'm Liam right now. If I bring her up ten hit points, right, poison doesn't bring her down anymore in 5e, it just puts her to disadvantage, correct?
DM: This poison, you're not quite sure. You don't know the circumstance.
Player: I'm going to use five points of Lay on Hands to cure the poison.
DM: Okay, so the poison is removed from her. That is as much as you can do.
Player: Well, if I can only use Lay on Hands once, I'm going to throw another dagger out the door into the pit fiend--
DM: You cannot see him from that side of the door. The doorway is facing outward. He's on the other side of the doorway. That is the end of your turn. Pike is no longer poisoned. The bulging black veins retract from her throat. The shallow breath is still there, though fading. Percy.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They operate out of Darktow. Avantika is waiting for them to return somewhere in the Swavain Islands.
DM: "I don't know." You get the sense the more he looks at it, one, he's definitely not the navigator of the ship's crew, and probably can't read.
Player: What's your name?
DM: "Gallan."
Player: Gallan.
DM: "Gallan Wesmen."
Player: I like your name.
DM: "Thank you."
Player: Have you heard of The Traveler, Gallan?
DM: "I've met many travelers."
Player: Have you heard of The Traveler?
DM: His eyes go a little narrow. He's like, "Oh no, not another one."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, As the party launch their assault on the dragon, Zahra finally convinces the two giants to help. Though the dragon's mere presence is terrifying, the party hack steadily away at it.
DM: So are you guys taking a short rest to heal up? Okay. If you haven't already rolled your dice-- You healed up now? Perfect. All right, so as you guys continue to trudge up this extremely cold-- let me see. I think it'll be a fun one to-- There we go. You guys continue to ascend up this pitch-black cavern here. It appears that both the giants and the dragon do not need light to make their way through this cavern structure. So you are the small beads of visual lightness in the entire structure. The floor itself is slick, and there are bits of rough rock that you can find foot purchase but there are a few moments where some of you slip and you lose about ten feet and then catch yourself and have to move upward with this slight 35-degree incline, slowly spiraling upward. You push forward for about 30 minutes or so in this long, seemingly-- for lack of a better term, there isn't a lot of changed variation to it; it's just a gradual spiral in itself.
Player: I want to keep perception out to make sure that nothing is ahead of us.
DM: Go ahead and roll a perception check.
Player: Okay, but this is pertaining to dragons. He is one of my favored enemies, so I have additional bonuses to tracking him and insight against him. Favored enemies!
DM: All right. So you're perceiving anything dragon-related and things that would be a forewarning of a dragon, okay.
Player: Things he would have laid down for us. Stuff like that.
DM: Okay. Go ahead and roll again. You have an advantage.
Player: You know, just to see. Okay. 18?
DM: Okay. Glancing about, you do see there are claw marks along the walls, you can see where portions of this cavern were carved out by the claws of Rimefang. You can see that occasionally there are pieces of frozen rock that are solid ice, some that appear to be an unthawed chunk of flesh of some kind. As you push further up this cavern, you spot what looks like the lower half of a statue.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Pike Trickfoot, a gnome cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, At the end of their vacation, the group return to Whitestone. Keyleth visits the Sun Tree, which has leafed out and is looking much healthier these days, and has a short conversation with it.
DM: Pike, on this day, you've been keeping tabs on this. A couple of the Pale Guard approach the bakery. One of them, without seeing you, walks in and goes, "We're looking for Pike. Is Miss Pike in?"
Player: Yes?
DM: "Could you please come with us? There's somebody on the border requesting your presence."
Player: Where?
DM: "On the outskirts of Whitestone."
Player: Okay. Yes.
DM: "Someone who says they know you. You'd better come with us."
Player: Okay.
DM: The two guards step back and-- do you walk with them?
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Further along the way, they meet refugees from Nogvurot. After the fourth day of travel, they camp and notice an overturned cart just off the road.
DM: There is bone jewelry. There's a bone choker that's a series of finger bones that are lined end to end that goes around the neck, there's one that can go on the wrist, looks like there's a necklace that has a bunch of various canine teeth-- not necessarily from a canine, but sharp teeth from some sort of creature.
Player: Where do these bones come from?
DM: "Oh, most of these were taken from various wolves, dire in nature."
Player: Volves?
DM: "Wolves."
Player: Wolves, wolves.
DM: "These are from the Zemni Fields, near Icehaven is where I hail. It's a very hunter-trapper community up there. I bring the goods to sell this far south."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The party then, in trying to locate Grog's position, found their way, delving past the lava-fall of the obsidian rock duergar-Underdark, deeper in, discovering this cursed pit of undeath, bone shards, and glass. Upon traversing it they encountered one of these abominations that they've seen traces of left before—this weird, partial-elven, partial-tentacle monstrosity that slashed through the party, nearly killed Trinket, but was defeated by Vox Machina .
They managed to make their way across this bone field and discover what appears to be a camp across a number of pillars in the distance.
DM: Okay, so you whip around, he's there in your face, go ahead and make-- You're using your action surge to fire two additional times, you said?
Player: Yeah.
DM: Okay, wow, four rounds. Go for an attack.
Player: First attack with Pepperbox is 13?
DM: 13? Unfortunately misses. Form shifts (whooshing sounds), and you can feel the psychic energy of its oppressive mental force, causing your hand to miss its aim with each pull of the trigger.
Player: All right fire shot for 19.
DM: 19 does hit.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Yasha Nydoorin, a half-angel barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, At sunset, they camp. you and Fjord take second watch, and are joined by Jester when their conversation wakes her.
DM: Your first one impacts one guy and there’s a splash of blood, silent. Once again, no sound here. The second one swings wide and the other guy captures it. He grabs your arm and pulls you in. He’s going to make an athletics check against you. Make an athletics or acrobatics check to try and not be grappled.
Player: 13?
DM: That’s not going to make it. He grapples and holds you in place. The other one takes and slams manacles onto your wrists and pulls it back, wrenching the blade from your grasp. Your arms are now locked behind you into these metal manacles.
Player: Can I try to scream out in some way to the Stormlord?
DM: You go ahead and scream. Make a straight wisdom check.
Player: Three.
DM: In that moment, as you try and scream out, your vocal cords strained by the sheer force of your voice, no sound comes out. Looking up in the sky, there isn’t a single cloud in sight. Probably for the first time in weeks, since you’ve been in this side of Wildemount, it is a clear night. No sign of clouds. No sign of storm. In that moment, as you’re screaming out, the gag gets put into your mouth and tied behind your head. You glance over and you can see Jester being dragged. Now the manacles affixed to the back of her ankles and she’s being pulled through the grass, Fjord a few feet behind her. Still unable to really make out the shapes of these hooded figures that are pulling them through and you are shoved to the ground.
Player: Are my legs still free?
DM: Your ankles are about to be manacled.
Player: Can I kick?
DM: Make another athletics check.
Player: 25.
DM: 25, all righty. With that, you manage to kick free and they can’t quite get ahold on it and one figure steps forward, shorter than the others, stout looking, and goes, "Oh for the--" and his voice dissipates as he gets closer. I need you to make another wisdom saving throw.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, It depicts a curling worm with tooth-like scales over its skin. Its mouth is an open ring of teeth with three ivory eyes set where its tongue should be.
DM: You hear Avantika's voice echo from across the way. She goes, "These are the Chosen." She brings light over towards the one of Uk'otoa on the wall and goes, "I guess that makes this one me?" She takes her finger and takes a little blood from the corner of her mouth from the fight and draws a little smiley face on one of the three. "And this one is you," and goes and draws another face on the middle one.
Player: I can see the resemblance. The question is, if that's you, and that's me, who's our third friend?
DM: "That is a very good question."
Player: You said you had met only one other Chosen before.
DM: "Only one, yes."
Player: And what happened to them?
DM: "They were a very informative partner. They are the one that introduced me to the great possibility of power under Uk'otoa. We traveled this ocean for quite a number of years together, but they proved to be a coward. They took something important to our mission and vanished, and I have spent many years trying to recover what they stole. With no luck. I figured it was more worth my time to pillage enough coin to pay other people to find them for me. And so far, based on the fact that it brought you to me, a much more successful endeavor, eh?"
Player: Indeed. This person that seemed to have shown you the light, did you try to track them down? Do you know anything about them or where they might be? They would seem to be very useful in our current situation.
DM: "This is very true. Well, it seems I may have some information. Let's get back to the ship, eh? Let's finish our business here and let's talk over a glass of wine."
Player: Well, we're obviously not in a huge rush. We have not explored all of this.
DM: "This is true." She begins to make her way towards the well at the center of the chamber.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, you learns that the name of the female gnome flutist is Kaylie. you and Kaylie get to talking, and Kaylie quickly dismisses you's flirtations.
DM: "Certainly!" He goes and calls over, he goes, "Kaylie, Zed, help me with the tables." And the gnome and the rotund bearded human rush off and start grabbing a couple of the tables and they cram them in the corner, so now you basically have built this monopoly on the far corner of the tavern now, where all of you guys can sit around and cluster.
Player: Kaylie, that was some fine playing. I might have a tip or two about breath control.
DM: "Sorry, not all of us are quite as old and seasoned as the others." (jeering and laughter)
Player: Well, I've learned quite a thing or two in my years and, it might interest you to take a little private tutoring session sometime.
DM: "Scanlan Shorthalt. You know, I've heard quite a bit about you."
Player: My legend is spread far and wide, I'm sure.
DM: "Indeed. And I know better than most ladies that may cross your path."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They ask Marius about what he was doing with the ship. Marius was not planning to go on the ship.
DM: "I wasn't headed anywhere. I was going to give back their money and send them off on their way, and you attacked, and they weren't going to let me stay behind, I guess."
Player: Right. But now we've changed your plans, yes? You're with us?
DM: "Apparently!"
Player: And Avantika needs the sphere, correct?
DM: "Well, I don't have it!"
Player: No, but I do. Do you know where she is? I'll reach behind my back and use Minor Image again and show the sphere.
DM: Right. "I don't really-- I was just hired to pass on a letter and wait for some sort of an arrival of that, and then it never came, and then I asked for an extension in case it was just taking its time to get there. And then, never showed up. So I had to return the money, unfortunately. But you know, I like keeping a reputation as a reliable messenger."
Player: Who were you going to give this to?
DM: "I was going to give it to-- what's his name, Captain Jawgrasp. Big fella, you cut the fuck out of and kicked him off the side of the docks."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Tiberius Stormwind, a dragonborn sorcerer . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Across from the entrance is a set of wooden doors which he listens at. He hears nothing, but notices that the door is unlocked.
DM: Okay, so. Tiberius, as you're backing up, both the duergar turn around immediately, seeing you, and rear back with javelins, throwing them directly at you.
Player: Oh! I'll cast Blur instead.
DM: Okay. Go ahead and roll initiative real fast to see who gets off first what.
Player: I'm not going to count that. Oh, I'll count that. 19.
DM: What, why didn't you count it?
Player: Because it flew out of my hand, I didn't roll it.
DM: Okay. All right.
Player: Yeah. It's on camera, tell them to play back.
DM: So you go ahead and cast Blur. You guys see as Tiberius comes running back, (startled sounds). He manages to cast a spell really fast as two javelins come flying towards him. His visible image begins to actually blur; the outline looks almost like there's two mirror images of Tiberius in the same place that are both shimmering and preventing them from actually telling where he's actually standing. The first javelin comes in at a 14.
Player: Nope.
DM: Second one comes in at a 17.
Player: 17. Yes.
DM: Oh sorry, no, it's a four, 'cause it has disadvantage. So both javelins just whish past. Looks like they pierced part of that kinda shimmering blurring form, but both just ricochet off the walls of stone and come clattering to the ground. Kinda near back where Kima and Grog are. They both step out of the way as they land.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Caleb Widogast, a human wizard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They recover Magician's Judge. you opens the door leading to the trapdoor room with Knock, and Nott determines the trapdoor is trapped from the underside.
DM: So hi guys. Frumpkin slowly descends the staircase, and you can see a rack that is bolted into the wall that has chains hanging from it, a few other sets of manacles, a few torture implements: long metal things that are hooked at the end, brands. There are a few spaces that are currently empty where tools probably would normally hang, and there is another door that leads to a chamber beyond, and that's where you hear the whimpering coming from.
Player: What I don't like about this is that the asshole was sleeping upstairs and we don't know about that at all, but I send Frumpkin along the ceiling and through-- that looks like a barred gate.
DM: As Frumpkin looks within, you can see another chamber. You can see another hired figure, at least the same cloaked individuals you had encountered before, same attire, who is currently sitting at the back, up against the wall, and is looking in the direction of the door expectantly.
Player: I will attempt to send Frumpkin over his head along the ceiling stealthily.
DM: Make a stealth check for Frumpkin. Frumpkin also noticed there is a cage in the corner that contains two figures in there. Looks to be two humanoid figures.
Player: Humanoid, that's it?
DM: With that perception roll and the low light, it's hard to tell. One appears to be larger, one appears to be smaller.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Pulling himself together, he circles past the herd member on top of him, looks over the side to see Pike, and inspires the cleric. Greenbeard, on the edge, limps to Kevdak, tells him to protect the herd, and casts Heal on the Thunderlord, Scanlan's Counterspell not strong enough to dispel it.
DM: You rolled a one? So, as you leap off the side, your foot hits the edge of the tile, and the blade behind you swings. Which I believe is going to hit you with a 20. Is that your AC?
Player: My AC's 18.
DM: 18, yeah. You take seven plus four, 11 points of slashing damage.
Player: I'm fine with that.
DM: The blow, however, is just enough to throw you off-kilter, and you go plummeting down into the alleyway.
Player: Okay.
DM: Falling prone. You can use your movement to get back up, the remainder of your movement, but you can't move from there. The fall does deal an additional five points of bludgeoning damage.
Player: Don't care.
DM: All right, so you get back up-- You're now in this alleyway right here facing this line here is all you can really see from your perspective.
Player: Who can I see from my perspective?
DM: You can see Vax, you can see Kevdak, and you can see this dude here, and an archer, but has partial cover because of the--
Player: Okay, I'm going to, as a bonus action I'm going to do a quick heal.
DM: Okay. Second Wind?
Player: Second Wind. Just to make that go away. God, that's amazing. 18 back, so, I've got--
DM: Second Wind, man.
Player: And ow! I'm going to pull out the big gun and I'm going to take a nice heavy serious look at Kevdak. What am I going to hit him with? I'm going to take a sharpshooter shot in his face. I'm going to go for a headshot with the big gun.
DM: A headshot? With the big gun?
Player: A headshot. With the big, with sharpshooter.
DM: Right, so you're using the trickshot on him.
Player: Trickshot on sharpshooter. I'm doing a combo. 23 to hit.
DM: That hits.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, That done, they begin to plan their way forward, using Locate Creature to determine the direction that the rakshasa has gone. Finding that their way forward is blocked by a stream of acid, the party mount up on the flying carpet.
DM: You're barely catching yourself. She's over the other way right now. You, however, are submerged in the liquid now.
Player: Am I under?
DM: You're having to tread. You are now underneath. Yep. You are completely submerged.
Player: Is the carpet with me?
DM: Carpet is with you.
Player: Under the acid.
DM: It is currently (sizzling) in the acid.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vax Vax'ildan, a half-elf rogue . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, K'Varn falls, but is immediately brought back to undeath by the Horn of Orcus. A ray from his eyestalk turns Kima to stone.
DM: Okay. You hold on, you get down. The spikes, now that you are up close, you can see, are about five and a half feet in length.
Player: Yes.
DM: At the base, about that wide. And pretty nasty, jagged, covered in whatever rust, soot, ash found its way there.
Player: Tetanus, yeah.
DM: It's nasty times. It's going to be a little careful to get in there without hurting yourself.
Player: All right.
DM: Go ahead and make just a straight dexterity check.
Player: That's a 25.
DM: 25. You manage to, Mission Impossible-style, swing underneath, grab the rope. You manage to keep yourself at a lithe, side angle where you reach between two of the jagged spikes. Reach down and grab this metal pole that was shining. Pull it out and it's an intricate gold and bronze javelin.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The damage quickly reverts them out of their eel forms. The fight comes down to simply destroying as many of the tentacles as they can, hoping this will allow them to get away.
DM: Well, based on the circumstances I halved the damage required for it to make the saving throw to regurgitate. However a fireball explosion based on the--
Player: Three, four, five, six, seven, eight. I'm sorry. You said 8d6?
DM: Yes.
Player: It's actually 29 points.
DM: All right. So--
Player: Please don't kill this thing.
DM: No. As the Fireball explodes, the oil that you created inside ignites and also detonates.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Beauregard Lionett called Beau, a human monk . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Checking their stomachs, they find a lot of bones, meat, and black feathers. They surmise at least part of her family didn't survive, and decide they can't leave her there, bringing her with them to Berleben, a miserable-looking but functional village in the depths of the swamp.
DM: As Jester begins walking off through the chamber, he's like, "What can I get you guys? What you asking for? What you looking for?"
Player: What's your strongest drink?
DM: "That would be the Labenda Throat Grog."
Player: What is-- what?
DM: "Labenda Throat Grog."
Player: Yeah. That.
DM: "Burns you like a fucker."
Player: Bender Throat Grog?
DM: "Labenda. The swamp you're in. Same color as the swamp. Burns your throat. Tastes like grog. That's where it got its name."
Player: What do you mean, same color as the swamp? Green and shitty?
DM: "Yeah!"
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, you, touching the handprint burned onto Vax's back, casts Daylight as a light to guide him back from the darkness. Grog steps up, slaps Vax's body hard across the face, and tells him, I told you before.
DM: Okay. The minute the words, what say you, leave your lips, one third of the glyph (charging noise) vibrates to life. Where the golden light of Sarenrae's power that the glyph initially emanates, the light, as it brightens, becomes a purplish-blue hue. So. Who wishes to be the next offering?
Player: I'll go. I go up to him, and I prop up his back and set him up against my chest and whisper into his ear and say, I know you can hear me. I know you're still in there, and I'm sure she can hear me too, but your sister is right. You've held up to your promise, to her, and you've made a promise to me. We have to settle down and live happily together, remember? You promised me. Vesrah. So I want to give you a little bit of light to follow in the darkness. And I find the scar on his back of my handprint. And I find it and I cast Daylight into his back, into the hand print and say, and besides... You know I'm in love with you, right? (quietly) That's it.
DM: Roll a d20 and add your wisdom.
Player: God damn it (sniffles) Which dice? Okay. 20 total.
DM: 20 total.
Player: Yeah. (whispering) Come on, come on, come on.
DM: As the Daylight spell brightens, your instinct is to close your eyes, but you push against it, and you know this will temporarily burn to your retinas but you still, holding that still--
Player: I don't care.
DM: --whispering into him. You can feel, not just the tears of your emotion but the instinctual pain of the blinding light piercing the inside of your eyes, but you hold strong as you whisper to him and as the final word leaves your lips, the second portion of the glyph grows alight and then transitions to that same purple-blue color. At which point, the Daylight spell diminishes in a way that you weren't expecting. As opposed to being this bright, glowing, blasting beacon, it shrinks down to a small condensed gentle glow, and you're afraid to move your hand.
Player: And I don't.
DM: Okay. There's the last offering.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Vex Vex'ahlia, a half-elf ranger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They looked above and they saw what looked like the entrance to a cavern where at least the dragon seems to fly in and out of. It's a ways up the mountain, and there's a smaller cavern towards the base of the mountain.
DM: So as you get to your feet, you look over your shoulder, you point your finger out and as you squint down, you use your ranger focus to make sure this guy is your quarry, and you take a quick scope of his body parts. You're like, those are the areas that will make him weakest. As you go to pull your arrow, you can feel a kink in your shoulder. The impact of the rock seems to have affected you. You release the first arrow and it's just slightly off mark. The second one you pull back and as you release it, it actually splinters off his shield as he knocks it out of the air.
Player: I am going to run over to cover. What is that other side?
DM: That is one of the mountain outcroppings.
Player: Yeah, I am going to hide in that little thing and go, Trinket hide with me.
DM: Okay, Trinket moves up. (bear moan) All right, and that's your turn.
Player: That's all of it.
DM: All right, Lyra, you're up.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The party makes their way back to the Lavish Chateau, and swings by the Tidepeak, and you notices that the city does not seem to be massively changed, but the normal smoke plumes are just whips of smoke. They return to the Lavish Chateau where a few people are relaxing and having dinner.
DM: Wearing a very, very fine shirt, but is Donald Ducking it the rest of the way. Thankfully, relatively thick, thick fur down there. You'd have to pry to get a good look. But is standing there, arms crossed, and goes, "Oh, Jester!" He comes over and picks you up... Actually, no, he wouldn't recognize you because you're a tortle.
Player: Doesn't he know that I am Jester, still?
DM: Probably not. Not unless you say anything.
Player: Bluude, it's me!
DM: Now we go into the "Oh, Jester!" There we go, that's the moment.
Player: My tortle eyebrows are going like this.
DM: Right, right.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Grog Strongjaw, a goliath barbarian . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The party then retrieved their first artifact and then made their way towards the Pyrah tribe of the Ashari druids, the fire guardians of the gate to the Elemental Plane of Fire, which apparently Thordak, the Cinder King—the great red dragon that helms the Chroma Conclave that has torn through all of the civilization of Tal'Dorei —emerged from. The party went there, found a surviving faction of the Pyrah tribe including Cerkonos, their headmaster, as well as a few members of Keyleth's tribe, the Air Ashari, and her father.
DM: All right, the four of you convert into mist form, crest up over the edge and start drifting your way over the top of Westruun, leaving Scanlan, Grog, and Reginald amongst the crops.
Player: Reginald, you want some ale?
DM: "Do you have some?"
Player: No, I do, yeah, hold on. Get the cask out, pour him a cup.
DM: He drinks thirstily, both because he seems genuinely thirsty, and second, it seems like he could use a long, hard drink.
Player: Pace yourself, son, there's a lot that's here.
DM: "I've been drinking longer than you've been alive, friend." Just (guzzles).
Player: Wow. Another?
DM: "Yeah."
Player: I'll keep them coming.
DM: And, for that, we'll take a quick break, come back here. See you guys here in a few minutes, and we'll continue this story. See you in a minute! [break]
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Fjord, a half-orc warlock . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Trent says he would very much like to talk to her in the future. As he and Oremid leave, Caleb leans forward and looks at the ground.
DM: "If you're going to go illegal, you can actually go just beyond the boundaries of the Empire to Shadycreek Run. Entire haven for murderers, thieves, and all sorts of strange people."
Player: Maybe if it's not so gnarly?
DM: "There is Deastok to the west, as well as Kamordah. There's quite good drink in Kamordah. There's Pride's Call if you like the jovial dwarvenfolk there. Much less dark and intense as Grimgolir, because they're right on the boundary and most of them are fighting for the war as well. Personally, Rexxentrum's got it all."
Player: We hear that. Soltryce Academy is located there as well.
DM: "Yeah, that it is."
Player: Do you know anybody that's graduated from that academy?
DM: "Not privately, no. Like I said, I've only been here for about a little over a half a year. To me, it's not been too bad."
Player: Fair enough. Well, I wish you the best.
DM: "You as well, my friends. Drink deep. Play hard."
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Percy pulls his gun, fires, and hits. He takes a second shot but his gun jams.
DM: And you feel the actual metal get extremely cold, and you have you have to shake it out like, aw, damn it.
Player: Since I can't move, I'm gonna-- my movement, my minor is gonna be just fixing my-- yeah, so.
DM: Okay, so your action is just trying to fix the gun?
Player: Yeah.
DM: All right. That brings us to--
Player: Damn.
DM: Keyleth.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Scanlan Shorthalt, a gnome bard . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Sunlight illuminates the battlefield as Keyleth maintains the spell, preparing for another round of attacks. Lady Briarwood steps forward to ..., and Vax reacts just quickly enough to slash her with his Dagger of Life-Stealing, still poisoned.
DM: She looks over to you and mutters under her breath (foreign word). It's a phrase you've never heard before, but as soon as it happens--
Player: As soon as she does that-- do I see this?
DM: You're just around the side of this.
Player: I do not see it.
DM: You glance around the side for three-quarters cover. Roll a perception check.
Player: It's a dead roll, a dead roll, it's between two. That's terrible. Four.
DM: Yeah, you do not see this happening, unfortunately. Your mind suddenly goes blank as the Power Word that's spoken suddenly stuns you in place, unable to react.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Having learned all that they can about Fjord's odd incident, the party embarks on their second day of travel.
DM: With that, you can make an attack with that as soon as it comes out. Make a melee spell attack, please.
Player: Okay, 17?
DM: 17 does hit.
Player: Ooh, seven. Seven radiant damage.
DM: Seven radiant damage, nice. As it strikes down, wham! From the creature, already watching its bones and its form shakes--
Player: Oh wait, oh wait, oh wait, I was looking at the wrong spell, hold on. Oh, 1d8 plus three! Seven plus three-- Ten!
DM: Ten. Oh, that'll be enough. You watch as it pulls back with the Infernal shouting of Mollymauk causing it to prepare itself for a lunge. As it gets low, its jaw snapping open, you watch as bits of its skin fall onto the ground as it does so (snarl). And right before it leaps, (wham) it just smashes it into the ground and its bones go flying and scattering in every which direction.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Percival de Rolo, a human gunslinger . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Tiberius rejoins the party at this point, still bestial. Lady Briarwood extends Percy a sarcastic invitation to visit his family at their home and Vex is able to hit her with an explosive arrow, launching shrapnel from the carriage.
DM: 11? So half that, six damage to each. She needs to make a concentration check. Advantage on that for war caster. Yeah, that's a 19. Okay. So (explosion), a portion of the outside of the carriage just blows apart. Wood shrapnel goes flying to each other side. As the smoke settles and the explosion, you can see, both Lord and Lady Briarwood are still standing there, seemingly unscathed by the event. She wraps her arms around him and whispers in his ear, "It's all right." And they both (whoosh) vanish in a swirl of arcane energy. You don't recognize it because right now you don't have the intelligence to really--
Player: I want to walk over to the carriage driver.
DM: You walk over to the carriage driver, who is currently on the ground, this young man who's horribly hurt, part of his torso is burned, and he's like, (coughs, grunts). Trying to climb away. (gasping) "Please, please spare my life, please. What do you want from me?" (labored breathing)
Player: What do you know?
DM: "About what?"
Player: I shoot him in the right hand.
DM: (gunshot, screams) It's an easy enough hit, he's prone before you. Three of his fingers are blown off, and the bloody stumps. (gasps, grunts) Shaking. (panting) "I'm sorry. I don't-- look-- "
Player: You're from Whitestone, yes?
DM: "I am. You don't know what it's like. I had no choice."
Player: Well, you do now. I reload again and put it on his left hand.
DM: "Please don't, please." The rest of you are gathered, and you step out from the edge of the window and make your way with the rest of the crowd, and they're watching this display on the front of the palace.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Jester Lavorre, a tiefling cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They continue to attack both gators. Yasha is held in the jaws of one, and Nott by the other.
DM: Don't tempt me. You guys all take a moment, tend to your exhaustion from plunging into this swamp haphazardly, some of you taking quite a beating in the process. Jester guides your attention to this now struggling small bird creature. It looks to be about the size of a an adolescent child, maybe no more than-- well, let's say a little younger than that, maybe like an eight or nine year old. But instead of skin, it's just black feathers. No wings really, the feathers are too small among the arm to actually be flight-ready. The lower half of its body is still sunken and thick in the bog. It has, where its face is, two bright yellow eyes, very crow, raven-like eyes and a long black pointed beak. And (scared bird croaking).
Player: Don't worry! I can help you.
DM: (scared chirping)
Player: Give me your hands.
DM: (chirping)
Player: Oh! I lift it up out.
DM: Make a strength check
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, She shouts What's the matter, Sylas? Afraid of a little gnome and a druid?
DM: There's still a semi-visible form of his body, but in a mist form. It's trying to slowly escape off the top of this structure.
Player: Okay. Pike is standing right next to him?
DM: Correct.
Player: I'm going to use Pike and use the light that I have off Pike and combine it to do a joint Sunbeam, holy bomb.
DM: Okay.
Player: Boom.
DM: Great.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |
It's a fantasy role-playing game.
DM: You are Mollymauk Tealeaf, a tiefling blood hunter . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, They find a long metallic rod half buried in the rubble about the size of the platform hole in the room below. Yasha sticks a sword into the ashes in one urn, and shortly thereafter a small glowing orb emerges and attacks her.
DM: You're not entirely certain, but you do notice, glancing about, that they seem to be emerging from them.
Player: I'm actively tracking these at this point, I would imagine, so I can't be surprised anymore.
DM: Right.
Player: All right. Can I scoot around the-- I assume the clay pot is on the other side of that will-o'-wisp right now?
DM: It is.
Player: I'm going to scoot around to that side.
DM: Okay.
Player: I'm going to take my first shot at the will-o'-wisp as I'm dancing around it.
DM: All righty. You swing wide with your first.
Player: Yeah, let's see if this hits. 17?
DM: 17 does not hit.
Player: My god, really?!
DM: You swing your blade and it ducks out of the way. These are quick little fuckers!
Player: I'm going to take my bonus action, and I'm going to break the pot.
DM: Okay. Swing.
| [
"DM",
"Player"
] |