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The Siren's Song
The sun was setting over the coastal cliffs, casting a red and orange hue over the rocky terrain. The sound of a beautiful song could be heard echoing through the valley, drawing the attention of a group of adventurers who were making their way through the treacherous path.
As they approached the source of the music, they were greeted with the sight of a harpy, perched on a cliffside. Its body was that of a vulture, with wings and legs, but its torso, arms and head were that of a human. Its wicked talons and bone club made it a formidable threat in combat, and its eyes reflected the absolute evil of its soul.
The harpy's sweet song had lured countless adventurers to their deaths, drawing them in close for the harpy to kill and consume. The adventurers were caught off guard by the harpy's song, and they were compelled to blunder towards its source. The harpy charmed them before attacking, using its song to lure them over the cliff and into deadly pits.
The harpy took pleasure in the suffering and death of its prey, delighting in the "music" they made as they screamed. It took its time dismembering its helpless foes, and it could spend days torturing its victims before the merciful end.
The harpy collected shiny baubles, valuable objects and other trophies from its victims, sometimes fighting with other harpies for the right to claim the choicest prizes. When no valuable objects could be found, the harpy took hair, bones or body parts to line its nest. Its lair was hidden in remote ruins, where adventurers could discover valuable treasure and magic hidden beneath foul piles of offal.
The group of adventurers were never seen again, and their fate remains unknown. But one thing was certain, the sadistic harpy was always on the hunt for its next prey, and its sweet song would continue to lure unsuspecting victims to their deaths.
#dnd#dungeonsanddragons#harpy#fantasy#rpg#creaturefeature#worldbuilding#dndworldbuilding#dndinspiration#dndadventure#dndstory#dndart#dndcommunity
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My dnd party.
So context we're exploring this dungeon.
Bard(me): FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME I AM NOT CUTTING OF MY HAND BURNING IT OR USING ACID. IF I HAVE A CURSED SWORD STUCK TO MY HAND AMAZING ATLEAST I CAN USE IT UNLIKE YALL.
Rouge: .....but acid
Sometime later after we get attacked my cosplaying vampires.
Wizard: where should we go now.
Druid: LETS GO DOWN THE SUDDEN DEATH PATH.
Bard(me): NO I DONT FEEL LIKE DYING TODAY.
Safe to say the druid went and took our two rougrs and cleric then the warlock wizard and I went the other way. We got attacked by two grells. Dm was sure we were going to die. We killed them easily without anyone getting incapacitated.
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My third first character ever was inmidiatly before the monk. Both of them were characters made for the run of the aventure "Ruins of phandalver". It didnt had a design and i created literally Sam from LOTR to be quick about creating him, yet he lasted just one session. He died and the table was disbanded. In the future now me as a gm had the oportunity to run that same adventure for my friends and payed tribute to this random character as the form of his shield as a magic item.
Sam - lightfoot halfling - Cleric domain of life.
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Happy pride month! Check out the new pride D&D scrunchies! #dnd #dndstories #dndstuff #dndstory #dndshop #dndpride #dndpresents #scrunchies #pridemonth #pride #lgbtq #lgbtq🌈 #lgbt #bisexual #transexual #transgender #trans #gay #gayming #queer https://www.instagram.com/p/CeQMON6MP2i/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#dnd#dndstories#dndstuff#dndstory#dndshop#dndpride#dndpresents#scrunchies#pridemonth#pride#lgbtq#lgbtq🌈#lgbt#bisexual#transexual#transgender#trans#gay#gayming#queer
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My PC killed another PC
The thing with dnd beyond is, you can see all the characters in the group, so if you want to surprise them with something you gotta be real sneaky about it. I'm a forever DM and when I got my chance to be a player in a friend's campaign, my DM brain kicked into gear and I started planning a series of fun surprises for my character that the group would learn as the group got to know each other.
My group of friends knows me, they know that I've never liked kenku because they're a bit gimmicky, so for a new campaign I thought I would surprise them by playing one. I'm one of those DMs who does a lot of voices, and so I made a list of personalities the character would quote when speaking; I put work into it. I wrote the backstory, discussed with the DM, and I was actually feeling pretty excited about this kenku.
Until one of the players jumped on dnd beyond and saw my character sitting there in the campaign page and said in our Discord, "Oh wow, ArdisFoxx is playing a kenku?? Amazing!" I thought, well shit. I was banking on surprising the group and now the whole thing had been spoiled. It wouldn't have the same payoff now, for me or for them.
My thoughts immediately began to pivot.
Years of DMing had trained me how to deal with changes in the narrative. When players do shit you don't expect, you improvise. Adapt. Overcome. So I decided on a new surprise.
The group had been trudging through the sublevels of Death House, a horrifying dungeon in the depths of a cursed Barovian mansion. The group heard wailing from somewhere within, and crept forward, edging their way into an underground jail. They moved past the corpses of prisoners who had been tortured to death, through the blood-soaked hallways of broken stone and dirt. They entered a cell where two creatures had been chained to a wall - a woman, and a kenku. They discussed among themselves whether they should release the prisoners - but it was the sort of good natured debate players do when they know the stranger before them is their friends character. It's the kind of discussion that gets peppered with knowing smiles and laughter whenever someone jokes, "They could be dangerous, just leave them". Everyone at the table knows that they will release the prisoners. They're just roleplaying a little, letting the scene breathe, but they know what's coming.
Except that they didn't.
I had discussed with the DM, my desire to make a bait and switch. I'd introduce a new character - a gritty noir detective hot on the trail of an insane kenku thief and murderer. The DM was on board - another player didn't like their dragonborn they had made and wanted to switch too, so together we concocted a plan to pull a fast one on the group.
So there they were, in the pits of this killer dungeon, in a gothic horror setting, smiling with relief as they made ready to release the prisoners that were sure to be great allies in their fight to escape this place where Literally Everything Was Terrible and Trying to Kill Them. The dragonborn picked the lock, released my kenku from his manacles, and the DM looked at me expectantly. "What does Zesi do?" To the total surprise of the other 5 players, I immediately attacked the dragonborn with my cursed dagger, striking with advantage. I hit the sorcerer and made a show of rolling damage, to which the player declared had dropped him to 0hp. The DM declared him dead instantly, with the kenku pulling his soul into a cursed dagger.
On the very next turn the DM described a silver haired man in a long brown trench coat dashing into the room. The group embodied all of their bewilderment as the DM looked to me again, asking, "What does Neph do?"
TL;DR: Forever DM joins his players in another campaign as a player, only to use their meta knowledge against them and continue fucking with them
Bonus: Here's that same silver haired detective which I doodled earlier this month. His homunculus is a 2-foot tall gargoyle named Smoliath (90s kids know), and his Guidance spell is magic cigarettes!
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Okay so you see, Durrin’s evil was there, it was already simmering, latent and waiting to be let loose
Vaine was so worried about not being human, about changing to something he wouldn’t be, to something he’d fear seeing in the mirror
But Keir
Oh sweet, poor Keir
He’s so desperately clinging on to the humanity he no longer Has
He no longer is
The beast is under his skin, calling to him
And it’s harder and harder not to listen
Watching powerlessness, watching the danger grow as Gav, Florence, Vlad, Tali and even Sailo and Robert are being endangered, he fears their loss and he fears that he can only save them by listening to the power within him
But the way he’d obtain that is with the loss of them
He’s so desperate to be human when he can’t be anymore
And the siren song of violence is drawing ever closer
(And also Munashi is so hot)
#dnd shenanigans#dnd story#dungeons and dumbasses#dnd#vampire the masquerade#vampire#villian arc#vtm#vtm shenanigans#vtm character#dnd character#dndstory#VtM story#vtm memes
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Chapter 2: The Tax Collectors
The first tax collector gored himself on the minotaur’s horns. With a flick of her head, he went flying through the nearest merchant’s stall. The tax collectors that had stood lazily on the outside of the crowd now readied bolts in their crossbows. Morbek jumped out from behind the houses with his hands raised.
“In the name of Moradin, stop!” He bellowed. The earth trembled at his voice, shaking slightly back and forth.
The tax collectors paid it no mind; one of the crossbow wielders aimed at Morbek, shooting a bolt into his shoulder. Morbek stumbled backwards, clutching the arrow, before retreating back behind the houses. The five remaining collectors began shouting at each other, forming a plan to take out the intruders. One of the larger collectors picked up his heaving club and began to stalk over to Birdie and Morbek.
Birdie, in a drunken haze, saw Morbek clutching his shoulder and peeked out from behind the edge of the house. He took a mental note of where each collector was while pulling out his sword. Unlike his performance earlier in the day, Birdie played the notes smoothly; a haunting bass piece filled the air with magic.
Morbek began to reach his hand out to stop Birdie from continuing to play when he heard one of the collectors scream in anguish. Through the dim torchlight, the pair saw the largest tax collector clutching his ears, blood dripping down in large amounts. He bellowed in rage, letting the blood fall freely onto the pavement.
Birdie rushed forward, abruptly cutting off his piece as he took a diving stab at the rageful tax collector. The blade sunk into the half-orc’s side, more of his blood spilling onto the pavement.
In a final act of defiance, the deeply damaged tax collector swung his club in an arc. The blow knocked Birdie aside, into the nearest houses’ walls.
Birdie pulled himself upright to retreat behind the houses once more. He breathed heavily, the fight beginning to sober him up. He looked down at his rapier, covered in blood for the first time. Was this really happening?
He heard a loud smash as someone’s bones crushed under some weight. He looked up from his sword to gauge where everyone had moved to since his retreat. Instead of a vengeful tax collector, he saw the minotaur from before, gravely wounded. She sucked in a breath of air, wincing as she pulled a crossbolt out from her side.
Birdie stumbled over to her, holding his hand out. She backpedaled, then recognized him as the halfling from before. She let her guard down slightly as Birdie finished his approach.
Birdie began to whisper a spell he semi-remembered in his drunken haze. He placed a hand to her side where the bolt had been, watching as the wound began to close itself. He stepped back from his handiwork, nearly slipping into the river that ran by the houses.
The minotaur made eye contact with Birdie, nodding to him as she blew fresh steam out of her nose. He nodded back. “That. IS the only one I know.” He slurred out before stumbling his way back out from behind the houses to help his other friends.
Two tax collectors remained upright in Moonshine’s square. Birdie watched as an apparition of a hammer tore through the square, crushing one of the ranged collectors in the chest. She wheezed out, dropping her crossbow.
Birdie decided he should help out more. He took the small dagger from his hip, sticking his tongue out as he aimed at the blurred image of the tax collector. He quickly flicked his wrist, sending the knife flying into her shoulder. She clutched it, falling to the ground, then laying still as blood pooled around her shoulder and mouth.
The last tax collector made a break for it through the town square, jumping over the burliest tax collector towards an escape. The owlin leapt out from behind one of the houses, clotheslining the retreater. The last collector fell to the ground, gasping for air as he backed himself up on his elbows. The owlin stalked after him, pressing his foot against the tax collector's chest.
“You, are going to answer for your crimes.” He threatened.
Birdie made his way over to the fallen foe. Through his film of vision, he saw fear in the man’s eyes. He was small, for a human, blood soaked his shirt and pants as he struggled against the weight the owlin had pinned him under.
“I don’t want to die, I just wanted my cut of the money! They promised me a cut, they said this would be an easy job!”
The owlin took his weight off the tax collectors chest. Morbek and Hesmira had made their way over to the other two.
“So, who do you serve? Anyone?” Morbek interrogated.
“No one! No one, I swear! I just saw that this was supposed to be an easy job, easy money!” The man sputtered out.
Birdie lifted his sword once more, this time to the man’s neck. “You,” He garbled. “Are going to leave, and never come back.” Birdie removed his sword, leaving a small knick on the man’s neck.
The man began to scramble to his feet, trying to take off as fast as he could from certain death. He slipped on his and the other tax collectors blood. He tried once again to struggle to his feet. The owlin was less patient with the man’s attempts to escape. With a resounding thwack, the weighted staff crushed the deserter’s head. The owlin made no reflection on the act as he placed his staff back to its origin.
“Murderers!”
The four “heroes” turned to face the crowd. More began to raise their voices; “Murderers!” they called out, circling the group. With a sharp whistle from Birdie, the jeering came to a halt.
“How are we murders to you?” The minotaur barked out. “We just saved you all from men who were about to take everything from you!”
“We don’t mean them,” One brave person stepped forward, pointing past the four of them. “We mean our guards.”
“Hang them!”
“Murderers!”
“Have them face the chief!”
The crowd roared in agreement as the town hall’s doors swung open. A bullywog walked through the crowd, his ornamental staff clicking against the stone every so often.
“Now” The bullwog started, himself face to face with the four accused. He began to speak again, but not before Birdie became sick by the amount of alcohol he had consumed before the battle. Right at the bullywog’s feet. The chief sneered at him in disgust. Birdie offered back an apologetic smile.
“Now see here,” the chief restarted. “you have saved us from a problem I myself did not want to deal with. Those tax collectors have been bothering us for quite some time.”
“However, you did kill two of our guards, leaving us vulnerable to attacks that may come our way.”
“But you let them take money from the townsfolk willingly?” Morbek indicted incredulously.
“Now, you don’t run this town, I do.” The bullywog puffed out his air sack with a deep rumble of warning. “And as such, I am sentencing you to trial for the murdering of our guards. You will be escorted to Giant’s Foot where you will stand trial in front of Lord Gracious.”
The owlin took a step forward and began to reach for his staff. “And if we refuse?”
“Then I will have no problem ending your lives here and now.”
The sound of large, mounted crossbows moving into position and being loaded was heard. The four realized that they were surrounded, with no way out.
Morbek slung away his hammer in a sign of surrender. “When do we leave?” he asked, hopeful to cause no more trouble.
“Immediately.” The chief drawled. He motioned for the carriage driver from before to pick up the four miscreants. “Tell me the name of your group, so I know who to tell Lord Gracious to expect when you arrive in Giant’s Foot.”
“WE ARE.” Birdie exclaimed, “THE ROGUE FOUR!”
Protests erupted from the other three. The bullywog sneered again in disgust at Birdie. He composed himself quickly before finishing his letter, placing it on a small falcon and sending it out of the town.
“The Rogue Four it is. I ask that you hastily make your way to Giant’s Foot. His Graciousness will be expecting you.”
The four clamored into the empty carriage. Birdie stumbled into the carriage, curling up in a corner, burying his face into the small velvet handkerchief that stuck out of his breast pocket. Morbek climbed in afterwards, turning and bowing to the bullywog chief one last time before sitting in the opposite corner on the same side as Birdie. The minotaur followed, still clutching the wounds on her torso, looking at the halfling that somehow got them all into this mess. The owlin took the last empty corner, contemplating the group’s fate.
The carriage pulled forward out of the town, leaving in an eerie silence.
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In the first fully homebrew adventure I DMed, I was still developing the megadungeon between sessions. The players caught up to my prep so I had the bright idea to introduce a fourth wall breaking deity who was still "making" the place, and teleported them to a spot i'd already finished.
Later in the same adventure I came to terms with my toxic expectations for myself and the DM v players attitude I'd developed, so the stranger showed up exhausted and mad at something the party did "wrong". A well-rested version of the stranger appeared, peacefully put the first one to sleep, apologized for his behaviour, and disappeared. I bore my soul for that role, but my players were just kinda confused.
#dnd#dnd5e#dnd story#dndstories#the players started with blank character sheets like that famous post i was juggling way too much#btw he's a she now#also she has a job in outer planar bureaucracy#why'd i give my self-insert a data entry office job#at least she's not a cop
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Never underestimate your players like in this story titled 'Whenever You Make Something Idiot Proof, God Makes Better Idiots' from r/dndstories.
#dungeons & dragons#d&d#d&d 5e#dnd#dnd 5e#dndstories#ttrpg#fantastic tales of adventure#stories by the fire#storytime#reddit
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He Lost His Name and His Tittle After Being Cursed - Tales of Darkness
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A Quest for the Secrets and Treasures of the Gods
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a great sphinx who guarded the secrets and treasures of the gods. It was a creature of great power and strength, with wings that swept along its flanks, a tawny leonine body rippling with muscle, and forepaws powerful enough to tear a humanoid in half.
For centuries, the sphinx had watched over the ancient temple, sepulcher, or vault, where the secrets and treasures of the gods lay hidden. It had seen many parties come and go, but none had ever been able to pass its tests and gain access to the secrets and treasures.
One day, a party of adventurers came to the sphinx's lair, determined to pass its tests and gain the secrets and treasures of the gods. The sphinx regarded them with a calm, unblinking gaze, knowing that they were bound to the test unto death, and only those who were worthy would survive it.
The adventurers were brave and strong, but the sphinx's tests were difficult and dangerous. They had to solve riddles, complete quests, and face the sphinx's terrible roar, which echoed for miles and terrified and deafened nearby creatures. But the adventurers were determined, and they battled on, never giving up.
Finally, after many long days and nights, the adventurers passed the sphinx's tests. They were rewarded with a heroes' feast, and the sphinx granted them access to the secrets and treasures of the gods.
The adventurers were overjoyed, and they thanked the sphinx for its guidance and protection. And as they left the sphinx's lair, they knew that they would never forget the great creature who had helped them on their journey.
From that day on, the sphinx continued to guard the secrets and treasures of the gods, always testing the worth of those who sought them, and only granting access to those who were truly worthy. And the adventurers, who had passed its tests, would always remember the sphinx with great respect and admiration.
#dungeonsanddragons#fantasy#rpg#adventure#sphinx#guardian#treasurehunt#mythicalcreatures#roleplaying#tabletopgaming#dndworld#fantasyworld#dndstory#rpginspiration#dndart#tabletoprpg#dndcommunity#fantasyfiction#dndlife#rpgadventure#tabletopgames
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Samurai Crawl Classics? Nope.
Yes, some old, classic AD&D books had what some considered to be racist content. However, some of us learned to learn about, love, and respect other cultures as a result of playing D&D. Please remember the sociocultural and anthropological value of RPGs.
I’m backing off of the idea.
The intent is to uplift and respect other cultures, or at least show a modicum of sensitivity.
Most of the changes I wanted to make were nominal. There are a few deviations from the regular Dungeon Crawl Classics rules, mostly new classes. I was basing bits and pieces off of the often maligned AD&D Oriental Adventures, but not entirely. The other question I was…
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#dndmemories#dndstories#orientaladventures#respectasianculture#rpgwriter#ttrpg#ttrpgdesign#ttrpgwriter
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Ghost Ship! What treasures will the heroes find?
Get the Pirate Cove map pack for only $4.99 on roll20! 5 variations included! Or check out my patreon for all these maps and more!
marketplace.roll20.net/browse/set/23427/
#piratesofthecaribbean #pirate #pirateship #battlemap #DnD #pathfinder #dm #roll20 #dungeonsanddragons #dndart #dndstory #dndhooks #ttrpg #rpg #maps #ghostship
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LGBTQ+ D&D scrunchies! Available in my etsy, link in profile. #dnd #dndstories #dndstuff #dndstory #dndfashion #dndshop #dnddice #dndpride #dndpresents #pridemonth #pride #lgbtq #lgbtq🌈 #loveislove #gayming #gaymer #gay #bi #bisexual #trans #queer #etsyfinds #scrunchies #accessories https://www.instagram.com/p/CfUO5SUMN1P/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#dnd#dndstories#dndstuff#dndstory#dndfashion#dndshop#dnddice#dndpride#dndpresents#pridemonth#pride#lgbtq#lgbtq🌈#loveislove#gayming#gaymer#gay#bi#bisexual#trans#queer#etsyfinds#scrunchies#accessories
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Sometimes you just have to ask.
Based on a submission by @dearratroi
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