#Strahd has been a little over a year

[iliaclwrites]

everybody’s talkin’ up a storm (act like they don’t notice)

summary: The one where the boys don’t know that Eddie Munson is dating the pretty assistant librarian that always helps them out. Dustin has a crush on her. Mike thinks it’s fake. Erica just wants to get home to watch Thundercats. 

“Uh, Eddie?” Lucas started, voice small. “Do you have someone over?” 

Eddie blinked. “Uh. Just my girlfriend,” he said flippantly, tossing himself onto the sofa and taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “Keep it down for a while, would ya? She had a long night.” 

There was silence. 

“Your what?”

warnings: none! wholesome fluff here lmao. a lot of d&d references -- curse of strahd is a banger

“You kids okay?” you asked, setting down the collection of Tolkien books they’d recalled from the front desk. “Fresh out of the returns bin, I thought I’d better bring them over here before I reshelved.” 

“Thanks,” Lucas breathed, grabbing the top one from the pile and hauling it open. He’d always liked you. You’d started as assistant librarian two years ago, and had always had a soft spot for them, wheeling them straight to the fantasy section when they’d stumbled in as wide-eyed kids on their first day. 

“Now, what’s all this about?” you asked, leaning over to read Dustin’s notes. “Book report? I didn’t think Fellowship was on the syllabus.” You pressed one manicured nail to the paper. “You’ve spelled Lothlorien wrong, honey.” 

“You’ve read The Lord of the Rings?” Dustin demanded, his hair flouncing as he peered up at you from his book cavern. “Really? What’s your favourite book? Favourite character?” 

You laughed. “The Two Towers, and Faramir,” you said, and chewed on the edge of your thumb. “Pippin is a close second, though. Are you guys just in a book club?” Your eyes lit up as you took a seat next to them, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Can I join?” 

“It’s not a book club,” Mike said, and chewed his mouth a moment, obviously debating admitting something. “We’re doing research for a Dungeons and Dragons campaign.” 

You stared at them. “You’re in Hellfire?” you asked, and then pulled their notes over to you, nodding at the numbers you saw. “Ah. That makes sense then. Yikes. Five charisma, Lucas, really?” 

Lucas yanked his notes back as Dustin’s mouth fell open a little bit more. If that were possible. “You play D&D?” he asked, voice going shrill. 

“Dustin, honey, this is a library,” you said, pressing your index finger to your mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically, and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You play D&D? You know about Hellfire?” 

You snorted, and twisted in the seat, looking very unlike the prim and proper librarian you had been moments ago. The way you were lounging sparked something in Lucas’ brain, something familiar, but he pushed it down. “Do I know about Hellfire,” you muttered, shaking your head. “My brother was the first DM.” 

That caused an absolute uproar. Their pencils flew about the room, papers shoving, and you tried to no avail to calm them down. You could feel the gaze of Mrs. Leibniz, head librarian, burning into the back of your skull. 

“Boys, boys,” you said, waving your hands. “Okay, Jesus Chr– yikes,” you corrected lamely. “One at a time, one at a time.” 

“What did you play?” Mike asked. 

“Do you still play?” That was Lucas.

“Do you want to come to Hellfire?” Dustin, sweetly, hopefully. 

You smiled at them, twirling a pencil as you cast your mind back. “God, back in the day? I think my character in my Hellfire days, before I was a DM, was an Elven rogue,” you said, nodding as it came back to you. “Tinuviel, of the Woodland Realm. She was such a knockoff Eowyn it’s kind of a wonder Tolkien never sued. I do still play, a little, when my brother has the time to do a oneshot. I can’t come to Hellfire, it clashes with my shifts. Satisfied?” 

The boys nodded, and you smiled at them firmly, glancing down at a sheet of paper. There was a beat of silence, and then – 

“Wait, sorry, did you say you DM?” Mike said, twisting in his seat to look at you. 

You shrugged. “We had a rotating DM base back then,” you said, scratching the back of your head. Again, the motion pinged something in Lucas’ skull, but he wasn’t sure what. “Once my brother left, I shared the year with Eddie Munson – you guys must know Eddie, right?” 

They nodded. You leaned forward conspiratorially. 

“I made him cry when he faced down Strahd.” 

“No way,” Lucas said, rocking back in his chair. Your hand shot out, slamming it back onto four feet before he would tumble. “Shit, I mean, dang. Sorry. But you made him cry?” 

You grinned, remembering it fondly. “Yeah,” you said, and Mike saw your librarian persona totally slip away in exchange for a totally feral smile. “He didn’t speak to me for a weak after he died. God. Good times.” 

“You’re crazy,” Dustin said, pointing a pencil at you, “and you’re everything we need.” 

You blinked. “Huh?” 

“It’s simple,” he said, pointing at the paper. “You can help us outwit Eddie. Run circles around him. You’ve almost definitely played Rahasia before. He won’t know what hit him!” 

You wrinkled your nose. “Dustin, honey, doesn’t that defeat the whole purpose of D&D?” you asked, and he shrugged. “You’re better off without me, kids. Just–” You stopped, looking up at them from under your eyelashes. “Does Eddie still do that thing when he DMs, where he, like,” you chewed your bottom lip, “starts singing?” 

“I hate the singing,” Mike groaned, and Lucas nodded in agreement. “He writes all these songs! And then he sings them! Sometimes with guitar!” 

“It’s great for worldbuilding,” Lucas said quickly, “but. It does go on for a bit.” 

You bit back a smile. “Some things never change.” 

Dustin shot you a quick grin. “We’re actually going to Hellfire after school today,” he said, “if you want to come with us? Break out that old Elf rogue.” 

You shook your head. “I’m a Halfling now,” you said, quirking up a smile. “Rindi, of the Shire. Master thief. Besides, it’d clash with my shifts. And then where would I be? You don’t think you guys are my only kids, do you?” 

With that, you stood up, leaning over to whisper, “If you’re playing Rahasia, make sure you’ve got a bone dagger on you,” before moving back to the reshelving trolley. “Good luck, boys! Tell Eddie I say hi!” 

++

“Hey Eddie,” Dustin chirped as he headed into Hellfire. “We bumped into an old friend of yours at lunch.” 

He quirked an eyebrow, munching on a sandwich from his backpack. “Uh-huh?” Eddie said, not really listening to him. “And?” 

Dustin shrugged, and looked at Eddie slyly. “Tinuviel says hi.” 

Eddie blinked, and swung his leg down from where he was sprawled across the chair. “You met my girl!” he crowed, throwing the sandwich down onto the table, sending bits of lettuce careening across the minifigures. “She’s a spitfire, that one.” 

“She’s the assistant librarian,” Mike supplied helpfully, and Eddie shot him a weird look. 

“I know,” he responded, furrowing his brows. “We’re literally on the same campus, like, all the time.” 

Mike flushed. That much was obvious. 

“Anyway, enough chitty-chatty,” Eddie said, and leant over the gameboard. “You last left Rahasia in the dark of the night, exhausted and weary from a skirmish…” 

++

“Hi,” Dustin said to you, meekly. You peered over at him from the books you were checking back in, locked up in a cavernous stack of AP Calculus texts and editions of Hamlet. “This is. This is kind of a weird question. You don’t have to say yes.” 

You shoved some of the books out of the way to look at him, and pressed your glasses up your nose. “Hey, everything okay?” you asked, gesturing for him to take a seat. “Take deep breaths, Dustin.” 

He shook his hair out. “Well,” he said, taking his hat off and holding it in front of him like a Regency era gentleman. “It’s my birthday next Saturday–” 

“Happy birthday,” you said automatically, and he shot you a nervous smile. 

“I was wondering. Well, we were wondering. Mike, Lucas, and me,” he clarified, “if you’d like to come over and play a oneshot campaign with us? I’m DMing for my birthday, and it’s my first time, and I’m kind of nervous. It’d be really cool to have more people in the party.” 

You winced. “Dustin, honey,” you said, and pulled another returned copy of Hamlet toward you. “That’s not really appropriate. I’m a teacher here.” 

He rolled his eyes. “You’re an assistant librarian,” he countered. “Plus, you know what you’re doing! It’ll be fun!” 

You scratched the side of your nose, glancing down and away from him. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. It’s against policy, I can’t just show up. I could get into a lot of trouble.” You shot him a smile, unhappy with how crushed he seemed to be. “Look, look, tell you what,” you said, pressing your thumb to your mouth and chewing at the nail as you scrawled out your shift timings. “If you meet me in the library on the days you don’t have Hellfire, I’ll help you with your oneshot, okay?” 

He brightened. “I get to hang out with you?” 

You blinked stupidly. “Uh. Yeah, I guess,” you offered, and shoved the paper toward him. “I’m kind of rusty, but I’ll see what I can do. How many are in the party?” 

“The usual Hellfire guys,” he said, “so four. Oh, and Lucas’ sister. So five,” Dustin said, and you nodded, wheels in your brain turning as you tried to think of a good campaign for them that’d be finished in time. “You’d really help me with this?” 

You grinned, and nudged his elbow with your pen. “Once in Hellfire, always in Hellfire, kiddo,” you said, and he shoved his bookbag down on the table. “Hey!” 

“You’re free now,” he said, pointing at the sheet, and started pulling reams of paper from his bag. “I was thinking, like, a desert campaign. You know. Caravans and camels, that sort of thing.” 

You bit back a fond smile, and watched as he laid out the bare bones of his first ever Dungeon Master session. 

“There you are,” said a voice, after nearly half an hour of you helping Dustin build the stats of his Lizardfolk NPC, and you grinned at the sight of Eddie Munson standing near the desk. “Dude, we thought you died. You’re gonna miss lunch. Heya, teech,” he added, winking at you. 

You smiled up at him beatifically, and pushed Dustin’s papers back toward him. “Hey, honey,” you said to Eddie, and glanced back at your desk. “You’re gonna do great, Dustin. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re a natural.” 

“Can I come back?” Dustin said quickly, and Eddie glanced down at him in surprise. “Like. To work on the campaign. With you. Here. Or other places. So it’s perfect. You know.” He smiled again, and you sighed, rubbing your temples. 

“Of course you can, Dustin,” you said, and looked up at Eddie above Dustin’s head. “He wants me to help build out his birthday campaign.” 

Eddie grinned, and clapped his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “And you’re enlisting my girl Tinuviel?” he asked, and Dustin smiled nervously up at him. “There have never been safer hands, my friend. This will be a campaign to remember.” 

With one hand on Dustin’s head, Eddie wheeled him out of the room, before turning around surreptitiously to blow a kiss at you. You jumped up from the desk slightly to catch it, nuzzling it softly, before biting down viciously at the fake kiss. Eddie gasped in horror, and shielded his eyes, parting his hands slightly to shoot you a wink before he vanished out the door. 

It was a few days of this, of Dustin appearing in the library at lunch with an apple for you in one hand and a binder in the other, as the deadline of his birthday loomed. You helped him take detailed note of his characters – who did what voices, where did people stay, what was a catchphrase you could use to slip into character. He was sweet. You understood why Eddie was so fond of him. 

“You’re gonna do great,” you told Dustin on the Friday, as he was packing his things up. “Seriously. I wasn’t this prepared for my first campaign. Just remember to keep your character sheets–” 

“Right where I can find them,” Dustin agreed, zipping up his backpack. “Thank you. I’m really sorry you can’t come.” 

You shrugged. “Policy is policy,” you said, and ruffled his hair. “Knock ‘em dead, champ.” 

++

“What do you mean we can’t use the room?” Dustin demanded, staring up at the custodian. “I booked it today! I need it!” 

The custodian shrugged, grimacing as he turned back to the door. “Pipe’s faulty in there,” he said, scratching under his chin. “We need to seal the area. Should be fine in the morning.” He paused. “You got stuff in there? We can get it out before it gets too wet.” 

Dustin groaned. “Party’s off,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Unless you want to play an underwater level.” 

Mike sighed. The rest of Hellfire were gathered around the door, looking at it despondently. After a long moment of silence, Eddie turned to them, looking more serious than he ever had before. 

“Okay,” he said. “We can use my trailer–” They chorused a cheer, but he held up a hand. “Best behaviour, okay? We spent all week cleaning that thing up, and I can actually see my reflection in the countertops now, so if any of you fuck my hard work up I’ll rip your tiny little balls off.” He paused, and looked at Erica. “Or, uh. Lady balls.” 

“Freak,” said Erica. 

They piled into Eddie’s van, Dustin calling shotgun, as they careened down the road to Eddie’s trailer park. The windows were open to the trailer, and laundry was hung on the line, Eddie snatching a shirt from it as they walked in. Lucas stared at the pairs of bras dangling from the line. Hold the fucking phone. 

“Yeesh, yeesh, keep it down,” Eddie said, settling the kids down at his trestle table. “God, I never should’ve let you guys drink all that Coke. Sugar is bad for you, you know?” 

“You’re smoking,” Erica said bluntly, and Eddie nodded sagely. 

“That’s because I’m grown,” he told her. “I can do what I like.” 

Inside the trailer, Lucas froze. There was a pair of shoes by the door, heeled, small. He blinked. He knew those shoes from somewhere. “Uh, Eddie?” he started, voice small. “Do you have someone over?” 

Eddie blinked. “Uh. Just my girlfriend,” he said flippantly, tossing himself onto the sofa and taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “Keep it down for a while, would ya? She had a long night.” 

There was silence. 

“Your what?” Mike practically yelled, Dustin and Lucas joining. “Since when have you had a girlfriend? Why have you never brought her to Hellfire? What the hell–” 

“What the hell is going on?” 

Their heads snapped up to see you, standing blearily in Eddie’s doorway and rubbing at one eye with the cuff of Eddie’s shirt, hanging loose over your frame. Dustin screamed. You flinched, before pulling your hand from your face to stare at the group. “Uh.” 

There was a long pause. 

“You’re not wearing pants,” Erica said, helpfully, and you vanished back into the room with a squeak, before reappearing in a pair of shorts. 

“Eddie,” you hissed, and your boyfriend looked at you askance. “Why in the goddamn – cover your ears,” you barked at the kids, “everloving fuck are the kids in the house?” 

“That’s not the important question,” Dustin hissed. “What are you doing in Eddie’s trailer?” 

Eddie froze, his head darting between the two of you like a lost puppy. “Dude,” Eddie said, looking at Dustin in confusion. “She lives here.” 

“She’s your girlfriend?!” Mike demanded, staring at you in shock. You blinked the sleep blearily from your eyes, and head over to the counter, pouring instant coffee into a mug while shooting daggers at Eddie – he was mouthing, sorry sorry sorry. “The assistant librarian?” 

“Uh. Yeah?” Eddie said, his eyes jumping from each of the kids’ expressions. “You guys didn’t know?” 

“No, we did not know!” Dustin snapped, and you swallowed a tentative sip of coffee, coming out from the kitchen to stand by Eddie. “You never mentioned having a girlfriend!” 

“I’m pretty sure I did,” Eddie said, turning around to look at you. You were unimpressed. “I’m literally always saying, I gotta go see my girl, or hey that’s my girl.” 

“Oh,” Lucas said dumbly. “I thought that was about your guitar.” 

You snorted so hard you felt the coffee shoot up your nose. Dustin looked crushed. 

“My gui– You guys seriously think that looking like this, I hadn’t snatched up the prettiest girl in Hawkins High in my time?” Eddie demanded, tugging you by the beltloop of your shorts to come closer to him. “Guys. Come on. I was beating them off with a stick.” 

Your hand settled in Eddie’s hair, sleep still making you hazy. “You asked me out fifteen times, Munson,” you muttered, and he swatted at your scratching fingers. “One time you even wrote me a song.” 

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed. 

“But– we never see you guys together,” Dustin said, voice going slightly shrill at the end. He was alternating between staring at you, and then at Eddie, and then at you, over and over that you thought he’d get motion sickness. 

“I’m a librarian,” you said, not unkindly, coming to perch on the arm of the sofa as Eddie’s hand settling lazily across your thighs. “I can’t exactly come sit at the lunch table, Dustin.” 

“That checks out,” Lucas muttered to Mike, who was still taking in the scene. “Like. Damn. Uh. Congrats, I guess?” 

“Thank you,” Eddie said, sending you a genuinely happy smile before squeezing your thigh. “Sorry for the wakeup, Tinuviel. Hellfire flooded.” 

You hissed sympathetically. “Yikes.” 

“I’m sorry, this is great and all,” Erica said, and put her hands on her hips. “But are we ever gonna play this campaign? Because there’s an episode of Thundercats tonight, and I never miss Thundercats.” 

You bite back a laugh, and disentangle yourself from Eddie. “You guys set up. I’ll –” You glanced back at the kitchen thoughtfully. “Dustin, sweetie, do you like cake?” 

“Um.” Dustin blinked a few times. “Yeah?” 

“Then happy birthday. I’ll bake you one.” You smiled sweetly as you headed into the kitchen portion of the trailer, sipping your coffee thoughtfully as you heard the boys start to interrogate Eddie about the relationship. “Oh, and Dustin?” 

His head snapped up, sheepishly pulling away from where he was furtively whispering with your boyfriend. “Yes?” 

You winked. “Save me a seat. Tinuviel’s coming out of the woodwork.” 

++

(You and Eddie had met in middleschool, with his hair buzzed short and yours long enough to reach the small of your back. There was a copy of the Lord of the Rings that was two weeks overdue, after a lot of begging and pleading with Mrs Leibniz (Miss Franks, back then), she had finally released the culprit’s name to you. 

You shoved Eddie in the playground and demanded he return the book, standing on top of the sandpit in a blaze of righteous fury. 

Eddie asked you to be his girlfriend there and then. 

It took three years, ten campaigns, and one drunken proposal after prom night for you to finally say yes.) 

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female original character #stranger things #guys something i wrong with me

[rpgsandbox]

Official photos of the upcoming LEGO Dungeons and Dragons Red Dragon’s Tale set (21348) are officially here! Stacking up to nearly 3,800 pieces, the upcoming set celebrates the RPG’s 50th anniversay with six all-new minifigures, a giant Cinderhowl red dragon, and tons of other fiends.

The set has officially been named LEGO Ideas 21348 Dungeons and Dragons Red Dragon’s Tale – a departure from the fan-submitted model, which was called Dragon’s Keep: Journey’s End by original builder Lucas Bolt (known as BoltBuilds). The differences between the model that’s actually hitting store shelves and the original creation aren’t all that noticeable, but there are some adjustments!

LEGO’s first Dungeons and Dragons kit celebrates 50 years of the role-playing game from Wizards of the Coast and Hasbro. It stacks up to 3,745 pieces and assembles a fantasy scene. There’s a medieval building on the left, which is integrated into the stone of a dilapidated castle. There’s an extra 700 bricks from the original version. That increase goes towards a more detailed model, as well as giving some more love to the side build.

We’ve covered the Dungeon, but what about the Dragon? The LEGO set includes a massive giant Cinderhowl red dragon. It can perch on the castle tower, or just fly around in your own little adventure.

Alongside the actual model, the new LEGO Dungeons and Dragons set includes a handful of minifigures, as well as creatures for them to do battle with. There are six adventurer minifigures, including an Orc Rogue, Gnome Fighter, Elf Wizard, Dwarf Cleric, a Bard, and more. You also get three LEGO skeletons, too. The kit also includes a Beholder, as well as the Displacer Beast. We also get a small glimpse of a brick-built Gelatinous cube and the Owlbear. It’s a really solid mix of figures and beats for them to do battle with.

In true Dungeons and Dragons fashion, the LEGO set also includes a digital download for an adventure to recreate with the included figures.

You’ll be able to buy the LEGO Dungeons and Dragons Red Dragon’s Tale set (21348) starting next month. It officially goes on sale to the public on April 3, but LEGO Insiders will be able to get this one early – as per usual. It’ll drop at midnight on April 1 for those with a free account. It debuts at $359.99. The LEGO storefront page is at this link.

Plus, a Collectible Minifigure Series on the way

Alongside the main LEGO Ideas set, the collaboration will be continuing over to a Collectible Minifigure Series based around Dungeons and Dragons. The lineup will debut later this fall as a second installment of the 50th anniversary action and will include 12 different characters from the role-playing game. That includes Tieflings, druids, bars, and even the Mindflayer. The LEGO Group has now confirmed that it will launch in September.

Here’s a full breakdown of the Dungeons and Dragons Collectible Minifigure Series. Each of the blind box LEGO figures will sell for $4.99, and includes a minifigure alongside a fittingly-themed accessory. 

Tiefling Sorcerer with Red Baby Dragon

Golden Dragonborn Paladin with Shield

Tasha the With Queen with Cauldron

White Aarakocra Ranger with Dog

Mindflayer with Intellect Devourer

Dwarf Barbarian with Axe

Strahd von Zarovich with Sword

Githyanki Warlock with Knife

Halfling Druid with Bird

Halfling Bard with Lute

Lady of Pain with Cube

Szass Tam with Skull

#RPG #Dungeons and Dragons #LEGO

[mx-lamour]

Costuming Strahd: Part 1 An "I thought too hard about this" adventure.

I recently picked up some fabric for Strahd (because you know I gotta dress up when my players eventually come to dinner).

A "fine black linen" for the shirt (from here if you want to grab some for yourself), and a black jacquard chenille (kind of a mid-weight upholstery fabric) for a classy vest.

I started doing some visual research on traditional clothing in Slavic and Southeastern European regions, hungrily compiling whatever I could find to build some pattern recognition.

Having a little bit of trouble reconciling traditional peasant garb with "but what would nobility wear" and "what year is it", plus the obvious influence of Dracula and his early cinematic adaptations on descriptions of Strahd von Zarovich (which are decidedly Western), and the need to remind myself that I am building a fantasy costume not some historical reenactment.

1937 print of a Wallachian peasant vs. a portrait of Vlad Țepeș noted 1466

The vague description from I, Strahd: The War Against Azalin gives me a neat little list of his layers: "cloak, outer coat, embroidered vest, and . . . a very fine black linen shirt."

The "outer coat" threw me. I suppose it shouldn't have. But it didn't quite mesh with the Ottoman influences in Vlad Țepeș portraits nor the stout vest and almost oversized coat ensembles I'd been looking at in peasant images from Romania and Hungary. Instead, that kind of layering really read Western Europe to me, so I was shunted directly back to Christopher Lee's portrayal of Dracula (in which his costume really is black-on-black-on-black, apart from the barest hint of a white shirt beneath the squarely Victorian suit, which easily consists of both a vest and jacket and, in this case, a cape).

Side note: Nowhere have I (yet) found mention of any sort of necktie. Just the Bela Lugosi style crest (but on a gold chain, not a ribbon).

There's just something about that 1930s white tie, folks. Mm.

Anyway, I figured it was safe enough to start with Strahd's shirt. Well... but, herein lies still the same conundrums: shirts aren't all the same spanning eras and regions. I did stumble on this, though:

I love me a pattern.

What I like about this in particular is that it's structured in a way that makes me believe Strahd was inspired by a man who lived in the 1400s. These sort of blocky, pieced shapes were how shirts were commonly built throughout much of history, with various amounts of gathering and whatnot, so it could be pretty versatile in terms of "what year is it".

I like the embroidery on the neck, cuffs, and over the shoulders. And I like that the split in the neckline is centered. I've seen examples with the split at the side of the embroidery panel that are really intriguing, but while a few have been noted as Ukrainian or Polish, most of the examples I've seen have been Russian, and I'm trying to avoid anything overtly Russian. (Russian garb is yummy, but it's not Barovian.)

The lighting on that third one is either ominous, suggestive, or both.

What I don't like is the open sleeve ends. There are certainly worse offenders (there are some HUGE open sleeves in some of the folk ensembles, like, unconscionably long and billowy), but even this kind of straight sleeve doesn't feel... I don't know... organized enough for Strahd.

I have a Viking style shirt with straight open sleeves like this, and it bothers me to no end. The material over the thin part of my forearms and wrists is floppy. It crumples and rides up (maybe they're just too big overall, but that's a risk to consider). I usually just roll them up to my elbows to have done with it, but that's a move for casual wear. I could see Alek Gwylim sporting open sleeves, but not Strahd. Strahd needs cuffs. Or if not cuffs, the kind of sleeve that narrows tight around the forearm and probably has at least a dozen buttons running up the length of it... but that's hardly practical, either, is it? Strahd treads that infuriating middle ground somewhere between comfortable and elaborate.

So anyway, I'm probably going to enlarge the sleeves. Not a lot; just enough to get a little bit of that "poet shirt" gathering on the shoulder and allow some extra movement in the elbow. And it's going to have cuffs that button around the wrist. Turning it into something a little more suggestive of the Renaissance (though I'm sure as hell not adding ruffles; I'm sure Strahd would think them frivolous).

Side note: Cuffed sleeves are not unheard of in folk garb from Romania and surrounding areas, but it still felt like a very deliberate choice to make. There's certainly a noticeable trend of open-sleeve styles, especially in Transylvania, if I understand correctly.

That first image is from I Do Declare. Great stuff.

Ultimately, the slightly tucked, cuffed sleeve should also bleed well enough into late-1800s suit territory, at least in spirit. The sleeves should have the approximate volume as (or perhaps a little more than) a modern button-down shirt.

Little concept sketches.

Building up from the body, the vest is the next most important thing (aside from pants, but I'm just looking at his torso for the moment; you can fake good pants, especially at the table).

Whatever happens, I knew the vest should be at least these two things: black, and embroidered. Why not blackwork on black fabric? And, since I've picked out a jacquard fabric that already has some texture to it, let's just keep piling on that subtle intrigue. That's right: get up close and personal, look at that mesmerizing detail... lol.

I do not have an actual plan for any of the embroidery yet. That's a problem for future me. (Good luck, sucker.) What I would like to do, vaguely, is take some of the traditional/folk embroidery from that southeastern region and combine it with more western Victorian elements. Haphazardly span worlds to mimick the elvolving lore.

Soutache, anyone?

The style of the vest I sketched out is based on the below examples of traditional Romanian outfits (from what region, I have no idea). The nubby little lapels reminded me of late Victorian waistcoats (which button up rather higher on the breast than modern suits), but with the added fun of a standing collar. That thick black embellishment also caught my eye, of course.

Look at that dapper little guy.

I would like the vest to be more fitted, though, rather than the boxy, open-front (and often sheepskin or fur-lined) style of traditional peasant dress.

Along a similar vein as "the man needs cuffed sleeves", having a more tailored vest seems practical and organized. Crisp might be the word I was looking for. And he's a lord, he can afford the extra effort. A fitted waistcoat would also play along with the little fantasy Renaissance lean and nods to Victorian fashion.

Strahd said trunk hose were a thing of the past, but made no mention of doublets one way or the other.

That's it for now. I was definitely just going to do a quick intro this morning, but here it is, evening again. Joy of joys. This is my work.

. . .

[Next - Costuming Strahd: Art Addendum]

#lamour dms cos #costuming barovia #strahd von zarovich #inspired by dracula #curse of strahd #strahd cosplay #barovia #ravenloft #fashion history #folk costume #costume things #dear god am i actually blogging

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: “Don’t let go.”

A/N: Did I write this because I needed comfort and every past relationship has made be feel like a burden for needing it? Probably. I just want Eddie to hold my hand and comfort me. I hope you enjoy this one!

“Don’t let go. Okay?” You asked your boyfriend Eddie nervously. You were in the living room of a trailer a few streets over from his as “his guy”, as Eddie put it, prepped his tattoo gun.

You were getting your first tattoo after talking about it with Eddie since he came over to your house with his first one a few years ago. You had decided on a small, simple design as you weren’t sure if you would be able to handle the pain, even with Eddie telling you it wouldn’t be that bad.

“I’ve got you baby, I won’t let go I promise. My guy’s gonna take real good care of you. Right Tom?” Eddie smiled as he rubbed his thumb into the back of your joined hands as he sat next to you. Tom just grunted in agreement, not very convincing. You looked over to your boyfriend, concerned. Eddie just smiled again and brought your hand to his mouth to leave a kiss there. “Don’t worry, just focus on me sweetheart. How about I tell you about what happened in Hellfire this week, okay?” He suggested with an encouraging smile. You nodded, you loved hearing about the games, even if you didn’t really understand what anything meant. The way Eddie told the story was enthralling and probably one of your favorite things.

“Okay, so the party was in Strahd’s domain, remember me telling you about him? He’s one of the first vampires in D&D, remember baby?” He began, you nodded as Tom started up the tattoo gun. You tensed up in anticipation. “Hey, hey. Relax baby, it’ll be a lot easier if you relax.” He reassured as he leaned over to leave a comforting kiss on your cheek. “Just concentrate on me, sweet thing.” He sent you a dimpled smile as he pulled back. “I have to tell you how Wheeler almost got the whole party killed with his big mouth.” He chuckled.

With the help of Eddie’s distraction you were able to get through your tattoo easily and you now found yourself back in Eddie’s trailer watching a rerun on the couch as he looked over your new ink. “Look at you, sweetheart. My little badass.” He grinned at you. “Does it hurt at all baby?”

“Only a little bit, it’s a little sore.” You mused as you watched him trace lightly around the swollen area around the tattoo.

“Wait until it gets all itchy. You’re gonna have to slap it since you can’t scratch. It’s always the worst part for me.” He said, “I’ll help you take care of it, make sure it heals and doesn’t scar this pretty skin of yours.” He promised with a soft smile.

You beamed at how sweet he had been all day with you. Eddie was always sweet, but he was being especially gentle today. He kept your focus on him as he told his story and let you squeeze the hell out of his hand whenever Tom hit a particularly painful spot, soothing you softly through them. You had a bad relationship before Eddie, one who made you feel like a burden when you needed comfort so you felt incredibly special whenever Eddie did it effortlessly.

“Thank you Eddie.” You said. He looked at you with a small confused smile.

“For what baby?” He asked.

“For holding my hand and distracting me with the story. Taking care of me. Comforting me. It means so much to me, Eds.” You said gratefully. Eddie pulled you into his lap from your spot next to him, being careful not to touch your tattoo. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest before leaving a chaste kiss to the side of your head.

“Sweetheart, I need you to know that being here for you is the easiest thing in the world. You don’t need to thank me for that.” He smiled, his large brown eyes locked with yours. “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world, baby.”

“How did I get lucky enough to have you Eddie?” You asked, leaning your forehead against his.

“We’re both lucky baby. ‘Cause we got each other.” He beamed, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a sweet kiss before pulling back and looking at you like you hung his moon and stars.

“I love you so much Eddie.”

“I love you so much too, sweetness.”

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mayahawkewife

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie x f!reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie x gn!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie drabble #eddie blurb #eddie imagine

[thecatslug]

Ravenloft DM Musing*:

The Von Zarovich family probably suffered from a cocktail of personality, mood, and psychotic disorders.

Strahd’s meltdown™️ has the characteristics of a major depressive psychotic episode, possibly brought on from the overwhelming strain of both running the country and grappling with the death of his parents! In lore it was very sudden and tragic, and would have left Strahd to finally grapple with a LOT of childhood trauma that he’d never fully be able to resolve now that his parents were dead.

But psychotic and mood disorders don’t usually exist in a vacuum! There is usually a very strong hereditary component, meaning Strahd likely inherited the predisposition and risk factors from a close family member! A close family member like, say, his mother Ravenia. Though there’s little to no concrete lore standing for this headcannon, I personally run with the idea that Ravenia suffered from bipolar II and was possibly rather low functioning at that. The major, crippling depressive episodes that come with the disorder would have given her ample time to ruminate over the loss of her son Strahd (and possibly Strum) to the military. Barov most likely bullied her into enlisting the boys (because let’s face it, no mother willingly puts their kid in the military at age seven) and when Sergei came along, she had over a decade of depression fuelled regret put in to her relationship with the youngest Von Zarovich. It would explain why he was treated so differently, why he was so unusually pampered. Ravenia had reached her breaking point, and somehow managed to put her foot down and protect Sergei, at the expense of far overdoing his upbringing. If you want to run further with this (as I have) I headcannon that Strum likely suffered from a more mild case of bipolar II which he passed down the family line. This generic predisposition eventually led to lovely Lyssa Von Zarovich who I personally feel has a lovely little cocktail of a psychotic and mood disorder (Schizoaffective disorder) but that’s just my take on things, and is mostly due to how delusional and parabolic her mental stability seems to be.

Which brings us to Barov, my behated. Barov was a domineering, withholding, callous, and likely abusive man (he put his seven year old into the military, kids. That’s abusive even by irl medieval standards). Judging by what I can glean of his behaviour from Strahd’s HEAVILY biased little emo biography, I wouldn’t be surprised if Barov either had personality disordered tendencies, if not full blown Antisocial Personality Disorder (Psychopathic subtype). And oh look at that, personality disorders have hereditary components. To be clear, do I think Strahd has ASPD? No. He’s got some seriously unhealthy behaviours, but he’s not consistently disordered. It’s very circumstantial and I wouldn’t say he fits the full criteria of ASPD or Narcissistic personality disorder. I think he’s a very sick little man whose been warped by trauma and ya know- messing with the dark powers. HOEVER I do think he’s got some hereditary tendencies towards psychopathic behaviour. He’s eerily good at compartmentalizing emotions and has a much higher threshold for empathetic responses.

In summation- Strahd himself is a cocktail of an abusive past (I might do a bigger post on my reasoning for that later) and a really shitty genetic background. Villains aren’t born, they’re made. And unfortunately Strahd (IMO) had the deck stacked against him, at the very least when it comes to mental health. Thank you, if you read this far! Let me know your takes in the comments!

(*Disclaimer: I’m not a professional psychologist, but I will be in 2 years! I also suffer from several of the aforementioned brain issues, so it stood out to me when some NPC experiences were eerily familiar! These are just my takes on how I run these NPCs and interpret their past!!! Feel free to steal or disagree, fellow DMs)

#DM Musings #NPC Analysis #ravenloft #strahd von zarovich #curse of strahd #barovia #dnd #dnd npc #strahd #dungeon master #ravenloft2e #Ravenia Von Zarovich #barov von zarovich #strum Von zarovich

[thrumugnyr]

WAIT ITS BEEN THAT LONG IN THE CAMPAIGN??

Patataj and Rahadin have been dating for 1.5 years??? O.O

Idk why am I surprised knowing how time can be in DnD lol but the fact its been a while gives me hope things won't end too bad for them babsba

Altho it's cute Rahadin showed up to support his boyfriend I'm kinda suspicious of his answer GAH

OMG, I should have clarified this better: we have been playing this campaign for 1.5 years - the time passed for Patataj is only about 2 months and that's about the time that they're dating, or, well, know each other at least.

Let me tell you chronologically how he ended up in a relationship with Rahadin (this is LONG and has spoilers for CoS so beware):

Rahadin was the first person Patataj met after he woke up in Barovia (he got dragged in through a dream by, as we would later learn, the Abbot, who was looking for sun god support in his endeavor to fix the curse (of Strahd) and accidentally grabbed Patataj over Senna).

Rahadin was there to check out the newcomers mostly (and because my GM was scared of combat balance haha) and they went through the death house experience together. For Rahadin this meant nothing much, but for Patataj that's an intense bonding experience (also they were holding hands for most of it, as Patataj was the only one without darkvision).

After they made it out of the death house, Rahadin disappeared, but Patataj took up the sending spell on his level up a few days later and thus was able to send Rahadin little messages. That's how he was able to secure a meeting with him as well. That meeting went rather poorly, but he managed to not get killed. You must also know that by this time, Rahadin just seemed like a sulky, shy dusk elf to Patataj. Someone who would be funny to make flustered and drag out of their shell a little. Not much else. He hasn't really seen him do damage or anything.

He does start to ask random people he meets about Rahadin though and then slowly realized that, well, he does not seem to be a terribly well liked guy. Kasimir (the leader of the few surviving dusk elves) tells him to stay away from him, but Patataj doesn't quite know why, because he gets along quite well with him.

So after a few days (and after the party killed the Aboleth in the lake) he asks Rahadin for a second date to make up for the first one and to his surprise, Rahadin agreed.

They have like a romantic little boat ride and Rahadin even brings a scroll for Pataj so he can walk on water (because he mentioned missing being able to run in the open desert and the lake is...pretty big and the next best option). Of course Patataj goes for a run but in the end he can't just let Rahadin sit all alone in the boat so he offers him a ride.

And that's how this picture happened ahaha. YES, IT WAS ACTUALLY A THING not a dream or anything - I know!! Wild!

Centaurs don't just offer someone to sit on them willy-nilly (if at all), so in the end Patataj confesses to Rahadin that he caught feelings. He's a bard after all and centaur hearts beat fast.

Of course for Rahadin it's way too soon to reciprocate such feelings the same way (I mean, they knew each other for....two weeks at this point, maybe one? And he's like 500 years old. Them centaur hearts be moving in hyperspeed to him). But he still admits a certain fondness and they actually do kiss when Patataj asks for one.

Some time passes, Patataj keeps sending those sending messages and they interact like that every day. Just small things, as sendings have a limit of 25 words ahaha.

Eventually, Strahd invites the party for dinner, as he does. Everyone is low key terrified, but Patataj is excited to meet Rahadin again....and it goes well. Our warlock pisses Strahd off majorly because he continuously keeps the appearance of the girl Strahd is into, but Patataj is having a great time, even winning a bard-off against Escher.

Patataj ends up spending some of the night with Strahd, ending in him offering Strahd his blood (and I do not think he was even charmed. We're all still confused as well. Strahd just was very good with words and made Patataj feel sad for him okay?). Rahadin ends up taking care of Patataj for the rest of the night and it all gets very emotional, they exchange gifts, they kiss more, Rahadin starts to open up a little about his past and other personal things.

No, nothing besides kissing happening - but hey, progress.

They are mostly back to sending messages and short meetings for most of the campaign then. This goes on for months in real time you know haha. It does sometimes skew with my perception how much time actually passes.

At some point Patataj manages to convince Rahadin to join a little party at the tavern in Vallaki and it's all very cute. They play like, throwing knives and never have I ever and it's really stupid but fun....thanks to probably the alcohol Rahadin does actually end up comfortable enough to do ....more than kissing that night, too. And that is actually also the last night they managed to spend together until now.

Meanwhile the campaign goes on, we go to Krezk like, twice, kill the Abbot, we do the Yester hill battle, defend Vallaki (where Rahadin was extremely worried). In Vallaki there was also one instance where Patataj almost died and sent some final words type of message to Rahadin and boy, Rahadin was UPSET about it. Mostly mad because the message did not include Patatajs whereabouts and such and it took him longer to find him. He was probably also upset that the whole thing made him so scared in the first place haha. Rahadin is not used to care about anything other than Strahd and maybe Anastrasia (and since they're both vampires, they die far less easy, so not much to worry there).

But yeah, this is how you manage to date Rahadin in Curse of Strahd: You need a GM who puts him in the campaign early enough and PERSISTENCE. It's not easy to make Rahadin care, but once he does, he's very loyal and your chances of survival become very good actually ('You wouldn't want to hurt Rahadins mate' worked very well with the werewolves for example lol) - but also it can be a little terrifying at times. Patataj is trying to come to terms with the fact that all the protection benefit he gets out of this also means that it is very likely that he will end up as a vampire in the end. Also there is no turning back. Rahadin is very unforgiving and I'm sure if Patataj would break his heart, Rahadin would slit his throat, because that's just how he deals with his problems. There is also still a chance Rahadin might follow Strahd's orders to kill Patataj despite his own feelings. It's 500 years vs a few weeks/months after all.

But I do think Rahadins feelings are genuine. He says the most romantic shit sometimes and he really was very supportive in the last session (at least as much as you could expect Rahadin to be). It was actually the first time he said 'I love you' in return! MORE PROGRESS!

And I also do think he doesn't just want to use Patataj for personal gain. He's not a very....scheming guy. Not that Patataj would care either way. He'd do almost anything for Rahadin at this point, aside of things that go against his morals of course. It's quite funny, really. Patataj knows of all the terrible things Rahadin has done by now, but he kind of shoves it aside under 'well he did it under Strahd's orders, he wouldn't have done it otherwise' because he just can't fathom Rahadin is THAT bad/uncaring, since to HIM he is extremely gentle and sweet, even if sometimes a little struggling with showing emotions. Love makes blind, I swear.

But I'm rambling. I hope they get a happy ending. At least Patataj would deserve one after everything (all the suffering and pain of people around him and his powerlessness to help are getting to him), but it IS Curse of Strahd and who knows what will happen. Even at the best outcome, he will have to kill some if not most of Rahadins 'family', in the worst outcome, Rahadin kills him. In the most likely, he ends up a vampire in Strahd's castle, never to see sunlight again.

So yeah, on that depressing note and for anyone who read this whole thing, I'll leave you with two songs from my Patadin playlist because who doesn't have songs for their OC?

Nessa Barrett - Die first

Amber Run - I found

#forgive me for this overly long post #but I have lot of feelings about this #I put a lot of my free time into it after all (if you calculate all the sessions and art) haha #so if people seem curious I will be like WELL YOU ASKED SO HERE WE GOOOO #hahaha #thrum rambles #DnD #Rahadin #Patataj #Curse of Strahd #centaur #would I recommend going for Rahadin? Hard to say #(depending of course whether or not your DM is willing to let you treat Curse of Strahd as a dating sim) #sometimes it feels like I accidentally cheated the game #sometimes I feel I'll pay a terrible price for it lol #WE WILL SEE

[papermonkeyism]

With your DnD stuff, have you ever thought about making little comics from campaign moments?

(And wow, you've been through a lot of campaigns! I'm still on my first. 0_0)

Sometimes there are moments that I want to draw. Not necessarily comics, but maybe sketches or single drawings. I still wanna draw my dragonborn wizard seeing the skull of an ancient silver dragon that had been talking to her in her dreams, just haven't gotten around to it.

Unfortunately I don't feel the urge to draw pretty faced human characters, and sadly many of my fellow players have had those. Sometimes I really need something weird/interesting/nonhuman to get the creative juices moving.

(It sure has been a few! My local IRL group used to have multiple games going on and played any of them depending on which of the GMs was more prepared at any given time, at least untill one of the GMs moved away and had a kid almost a year ago. I think we properly finished only one of them, but they were fun! My tabaxi monk was for an online game that was basically just a string of one shots that were very much action with very little role playing. It wasn't untill my old art school friend recruited me to join her wife's Curse of Strahd campaign last summer-ish that it really got going, as the group is the most active I've been part of, and we adventured through the campaign in just over half a year, and moved straight into this new adventure we're just starting. I love these people!)

[rebuketheviolent]

Briar is @childofeberron's oc: a late-30s-something half-orc oathbreaker paladin; she was once sworn to the lord of a city and his family as an oath of the crown, and served as one of his most trusted knights. briar grew close to the lord's daughter miel, who was unhappy with the way her father treated the people he was lord over, and tried to convince briar to help her. radicalized by miel and the people of the town and empowered by an unknown celestial patron, briar broke their oath against the lord and killed him. briar and miel are married with a child, and travel to fight other sources of tyranny

Taber is @ice-knife's oc: Taber my darling my blorbo. Taber Lamburn is a trans lady tiefing redemption paladin/fighter, devoted to Ilmater. She was sold by her own family into indentured servitude because they thought she was cursed. They were right, she is, but that doesn't make it fair. She got out herself and has since been trying to figure out who she is and put some good back into the world. She's 6'10" at the top of her head and fights with an axe. One time four separate people were telling her to take a damn break, including her weapon. She's cried in front of Ilmater himself at least three times. Her party uses her as a personal space heater/pre-warmed air mattress. She's recently gotten into her first ever disagreement with her childhood best friend, and she survived!

Cesi is @delilahthewizard's oc: My beloved Cesi... (oath of conquest): the most cos oc ever this lovely dame spent her childhood as a fire spinner before her village was razed and she was left with just her little troop of friends to survive. So she picked up a sword and learned how to use it. Not for revenge, justice, or any such virtuous ideals. But to slash her and her friends out of poverty and weakness.

She was told of a hot new job she could take on, instead of a mercenary, she could be a whole knight for the lord of Ravenloft himself. Wherein she and her friends spent over 5 years being his tools of conquest and torture. fear and misery. Her personal job? Getting him his food. Young women would be "escorted" to castle Ravenloft by her acting as a protector for the coach, and to get the poor girl properly scared before Strahd. Eventually, after years of this going by. She saw herself in each and every woman that she passed on. Each one exponentially weighed more on her soul than the last.

Eventually Leaving his service. Running away from an even more powerful offer and leaving her friends (living and deceased). She knew she needed to fight Strahd now. No other way about it. For what purpose she is still searching. Justice, redemption, vengeance, it doesn't matter. She will turn the very fear he made her instill in the people, onto him.

#paladinpoll

[profmj]

WIP Wednesday

Victor Vallakovich has become my favorite NPC in Curse of Strahd. However, after jumping into the CoS fandom on Tumblr, I was shocked to find very little fanart that incorporated him. So I decided to throw my hat into the ring, alongside the absolutely talented likes of @pigeon-princess and @vanhelsingapologist, and post about my shameless hyperfixation.

In our campaign, my character (Laika, a shifter monk) was immediately smitten with Victor. He was quiet, brooding, sarcastic, and quite unlike anyone that Laika'd ever met before. I'll include an excerpt of the scene I'm illustrating below the cut, but TLDR: Laika obtains the Tome of Strahd and selfishly invites Victor to join our party without consulting anyone else.

Victor excused himself to use the restroom after barely picking at his food. Once he was out of the room, I nodded at Edeline and similarly excused myself. Victor's subtly-spiced scent was not hard to follow upstairs to the attic of the manor. I nearly didn't believe that Victor was up there because the room was dark and incredibly cluttered. But quickly I noticed light coming from under a door across the room after poking around. The door to the room was locked, so I did what any "upstanding citizen" would do; I knocked.

Victor answered the door with a look of poorly-masked disdain, and begrudgingly invited me inside. The room was his secret study; books were piled all around on crates and tables, and a large chalk sigil was drawn on the ground. To my surprise, he confided in me that he had been teaching himself magic, despite the local superstition and would-be disapproval of his parents. When I asked why, he told me that he wanted nothing more than to escape Barovia.

Realizing how much he'd shared, Victor asked me not to tell anyone. I agreed, and in order to establish trust decided it would only be fair for me to confide something in him. I told Victor that I was not the "upstanding citizen" his mother took me for, and transformed in front of him to take on my regular pseudo-wolfish form. Victor smiled in shocked approval.

That was the right move, apparently, because Victor then showed me his most prized possession--the book from which he'd been learning magic. It's cover was made of a dark red leather and it was fastened with steel hinges. I opened the book, expecting to see some alchemic instructions or spell, but instead was met with this:

I am The Ancient, I am The Land.

My beginnings are lost in the darkness of the past. I was Warrior, I was good and just. I thundered across the land like the wrath of an angry god, but the war years and the killing years wore down my soul as the wind wears stone into sand. No man alone can bear the brunt of what I have seen and come away with soft hands and a soft heart.

All goodness has slipped from my life and time itself has become my worst enemy. For all I have gained, I have lost more.

Father once advised me to keep record of my deeds, as men of military might should strive to make order of the chaos they have wrought. For him, such records would prove to future men the power of their betters.

I care little for this. Mother thought writing it all down might fix the broken thing inside me and, since I made her a promise, I had to try.

How foolish of her for asking, and how foolish of me for agreeing. I am not broken. I am what I was made to be--what I was destined to be-- a perfect weapon--metal that has been tempered over and over by putting it in fire.

Now we all must live with the consequences.

It is why I brought you here, dear adventurer.

Yes, you have found my journal. Perhaps you hoped to plumb my innermost thoughts, to learn my origins, to discern the secret to my destruction. See how generously I have provided you with that and more—a full and honest account of my history, even of my weaknesses—all because I have no reason to lie, no cause to fear. Doubt my words if you must; it makes no difference to me. Though, perhaps with some help, your misguided efforts may actually excite some vague interest before I drain you. Think well on your heart’s desire. What price are you willing to pay, even for the meanest hope of obtaining it?

How will you choose to die?

Will you serve justice and peace, submit to my lordship, and accept Barovia as your home? Or will you spread vain hope and dissension, rebel against my throne, and play the assassin? Whatever you choose, and though you may wish otherwise, you now have my full and complete attention.

I am Strahd von Zarovich, Lord of Barovia, Master of Ravenloft. And this... is my game.

I quickly showed the book to Victor and asked him if he could read it, too. Victor could, and he commented that the book had never done this before. He reached out to take the book back, but I withheld it. And then... I couldn't help what I said next. After the day we'd had, I couldn't lie to another person, particularly when this book was clearly so important to Victor.

I openly told him that we needed this book in order to break the curse on Barovia and release everyone's trapped souls. "Victor, I'm asking you to trust me," I said.

"Take me with you," he pleaded in earnestness.

My heart started racing again. The look of determination on his face. He was so sure, and in that moment I was willing to be selfish. I agreed.

#dnd #dnd art #curse of strahd #CoS #ravenloft #Victor Vallakovich #profmj-art

[raymurata]

13, 23, 32, 51, and 59 for oak my beloved 💖

13. What are some motifs you associate with them? did you intentionally bring in those motifs, or did it happen over time?

Openness and trust, rebirth, reparenting, CHANGES, learning, forgiving. Most of them I’d figured out from the start, some I’m still figuring out.

23. In what moment did they consider themselves to be “grown up”?

When they were living alone in Rosohna a little over two years ago (a 13year-old goblin is a 21-year-old human).

32. Which of your decisions led to their voice being the way it is?

“I want to play a chirpy, ray of sunshine little goblin who's just so cute.” It was probably one of the very first decisions, actually. Even before we knew we’d be playing Netherdeep (when we were still considering Strahd! LMAO It wouldn’t have been Oak, but a perky goblin in Barovia would have been bizarre nonetheless XD). 

51. What element of their backstory are you proudest of?

TWO-IN-ONE BAYBEEH! I am so proud of all the themes I’ve managed to explore with Oak’s consecution. The first, of course, is what attracted me to making a Consecuted character in the first place -- what happens when the person is raised in a completely different environment, even photo-negative in certain ways, two ends of the same culture? If the memories only come about later, would they not be entirely different people by then? What would happen to that person, having to accept a past self that is so different? Which aspects of that person from the past would still in fact be the same; what about us is innate? It drew me in.

Some of those questions I tried to answer myself, and some are being answered during the game. I did not know how integration would come about for example, or if it would come about at all -- and last session just kickstarted that process for Oak and I both. WILD.

But yeah. I am proud of everything that came out of that consecution. Somehow I’ve managed to pack A LOT of political and psychological themes there. Another thing that I am proud of is that, at least to me, Tarlyn’s story, while sad (I think I made it clear last session that Tarlyn’s life was sad, right? lmao), is actually hopeful in its very conception since they’re Oak now. It is a big-ass metaphor for rebirth and reparenting and being proud of being your weird little self and what have you. I’ll talk more about that in the future when it’s all out in the open. :3

59. What’s an element of their philosophy that you disagree with?

Oak is a big Luxon believer, actually. Not that they wouldn’t question their belief and/or the church itself. They sure would, given the evidence. But they believe in this powerful force and they honestly, truly read it as a force of good, even if they sometimes may question the dogmas. I think the Luxon has literally no alignment, personally.

Also, Oak believes that if they make themself vulnerable to someone, and that person somehow takes advantage of that, then it’s that person who’s 100% at fault. I love that philosophy, I think it’s beautiful, but I’m the Tarlyn inside Oak screaming for them not to be such a trusting idiot. XD

#tzan'oak zahar #oak #moonlighters #weird eyes and pronouns #dnd #call of the netherdeep #netherdeep #ask meme #oc asks

[whump-kin]

(i am equal parts a monster and a fool)

me? actually writing something related to the CoS campaign cal is from? amazing.

strahd's in a good mood. cal learns that may not be the best thing for him.

CW: betrayal of trust, mention of past abuse, manipulation, restraints, strahd doing strahd things

-

“Cal.”

Nestled among the discarded tomes and dusty shelves of the castle library, Cal raises his head. He’s been nose-deep in an archaic bestiary for hours, curled up in an armchair he’d claimed as his favorite nap spot and reading corner.

The light filtering through the doorway is blocked by a large, imposing figure. 

Cal smiles. 

He’d recognize his Lord anywhere. 

Strahd strides into the room, eyes exhausted, skin paler than usual, arms folded behind his back and red eyes glinting sharply as he looks around, relaxing when he senses Cal as the only presence in the room. 

Well, there are the spiders and the rats. Cal supposes that makes him the only thing in the room worth Strahd’s notice. It makes him glow inside. 

Cal lays the book aside, moving from his reclining position to stand. Strahd shifts, raising an arm towards him. It’s a practiced gesture, and Cal knows it’s also an invitation. He slinks towards Strahd, before internally pausing, weighing the values, and stepping slightly lighter, slightly faster, to wrap his arms around his Lord. 

Strahd pauses, before he returns the gesture quickly, allowing Cal the time to hug him, to try and make up for just how touch-starved the smaller vampire was. 

“Your Majesty!” Cal exclaims, and his heart sinks a little when Strahd laughs, but the hand in his hair, gently tousling it, says that he didn’t mess up. That Strahd finds this endearing. 

“Have I been gone so long from you, Cal, that we are no longer on a first name basis? It’s alright. You do not need to use a title with me.” Pulling away from Cal’s embrace, Strahd smiles, the nice smile that only Cal gets to see, where he sort of has a dimple on one side and his exhaustion looks just a little bit lessened. 

“I have neglected you for too long. But it was not baseless.”

Strahd has been in his dungeons, what passes for a makeshift laboratory down there, for months at this point. Cal has seen him rarely, and interacted less. So to be called by his Lord, spoken to directly, and with purpose, causes relief to wash over him. He’s remembered. He is loved. 

This is the happiest Cal has seen him in almost a year, maybe two. And however much he appreciates seeing Strahd happy again, seeing the light in his eyes, there’s that underlying fear. Strahd is not a man guided by positive emotion. He is rarely upbeat, rarer still genuinely happy. Something must have caused this, and the fact he has no idea what it is sends a chill down Cal’s spine.

“I think you’ll appreciate what I’ve been up to. Not all my experiments have been brutality alone, you know.” Strahd’s smile turned a bit wicked, a flash of fang. He steps back, taking Cal’s hand, inviting him to follow. Cal does. 

“As I was saying- you remember your area of expertise when you came here, yes?” “Of course. Magic items.” “Exactly. Now, I much prefer you as you are, with your current handle on magic, but I do think your knowledge and passion in this area- as well as the fact you are my best counsel in the magical arts- means your input will be… irreplaceable in this particular work.” Cal is too busy feeling his heart swell with pride to recognize any foul implications. Irreplaceable, he’d said. My best counsel. 

“I’d be happy to help.” He said, trying not to betray how excited he was. 

Strahd finds one of many entrances to the catacombs and unlatches it, beckoning Cal in first, their shared excitement in magical research almost palpable. Though for entirely different reasons. 

Strahd’s hand covers his eyes as they walk, His Majesty’s pace brisk and purposeful. Cal stumbles a bit- he’s more than a foot shorter than Strahd, and not as practiced on the stone floors of the dungeon. It almost feels like he’s being dragged sometimes, because Strahd does not stop walking, no matter how Cal may trip or lose his footing. But Strahd wouldn’t do that, so Cal laughs it off internally, and tries to regain his footing. 

He’d been down here once or twice before- healing, mostly, or the odd time he’d conquered his fears and tried to explore the dungeons on his own, though those ended fairly quickly due to his own cowardice. Strahd covered his eyes whenever he brought Cal down- something about not needing to see this right now, it not being the time, and a sensitive person like Cal not needing to see what went on down there- ‘Necessary, but upsetting actions’, as Strahd had put it. 

Muted groans and wails faded into eerie silence before Strahd led him to a room, eyes sparkling in the dim torchlight as the two vampires entered together.

This room is a bit better lit, with a chair in the center, a ritual circle written around it in chalk. 

A table with some bookshelves beside it is behind the chair, on the side of the room closest to the door. 

While it’s lightly furnished and decorated, clearly better treated than the cells down here, it’s obvious that it’s been modified- the chair is the star of the show, as it were. The chair itself is made of wood, bolted to the floor. It’s not a bad chair, either. Well-polished wood faded to a dull luster, a comfortable looking cushion on it. Good stuff. 

He’s torn from his sudden and ill-advised examination of the furniture by a voice.

“I had to recreate all of this as best I could,” Strahd explains, taking Cal by the hand and guiding him into the chair, “off of… witness testimony, schematics, and the understanding of the function behind the design.” He chuckled darkly when he said ‘witness testimony’. 

Cal isn’t sure what exactly he’s looking at until he sees the cuffs. His gaze travels down from there, to a familiar ritual circle on the floor. It’s like something had been keeping him from putting it together, but his sitting down, the familiar perspective causing the ‘click’ of the mechanism that sends it all flooding back. 

“At first, I worried cutting your hair would ruin the whole design of the thing. Luckily, that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

“This is-” “Yes.” Cal felt sick. He’d seen this hundreds, if not thousands of times before. This wasn’t in that cold, stone room, with the chair that had the cuffs bolted into it. This was not a group of priests standing around him, whispers he couldn’t make out. He was no longer a scared child led to that place like a sacrificial lamb.

Why did he feel so small, then? Strahd doesn’t seem too concerned, giving Cal a reassuring pat on the hand before kneeling down to begin securing the restraints. 

“Now, I’ve gotten the steps to this down. I suppose you’ll tell me if I’m doing anything incorrectly?” “Strahd, I-” “Mm?” Strahd looks up, a smug little smile on his face, one that’s self-assured enough to make any protest Cal has die in his throat. 

“Yes, Calamine?” He asks, and his voice is almost nice, even as the tone in which he uses Cal’s long-name is dripping with poison. “I assure you, I’ve researched this extensively. If you wish to back out, of course, that is fine. You risk nothing but my disappointment.” Strahd’s voice has drifted closer and closer to the edge of danger, and at the final word it’s teetering on the edge. If Cal was alive, he’d feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. 

“Nevermind. It’s nothing.” “Very good.” Ankle. Ankle. Wrist. Wrist. A belt across his waist. They’re all familiar to him. Strahd straightens up, and Cal notices he’s done something different. Cal’s hands are palm-up, instead of palm-down, and Strahd paid special attention to it. He felt like he should say something, but when he worked up the courage to do so, his Lord has vanished. 

It’s only a few moments before his footsteps return, but they drag on for far longer than they have any right to. When Strahd returns, he’s dragging a chair, looking for a moment more beast than man before he sets it down before Cal. 

His Lord sits down, crossing one leg over the other in a relaxed position. It’s far more casual than when he was subjected to this at the Convent, but to Cal that’s almost worse- this is a man who he truly believes cares for him. 

Strahd pauses, looking over everything, and the tension is almost too much. Cal wants to yell, to scream, to thrash or to beg, but instead he just lets the feeling boil inside him, putting a lid on the metaphorical pot so it can’t boil over. It’s alright. It’ll be over before he knows it. 

“Right. I trust you’re comfortable?” Cal glances around.

“Um. As I can be.” Strahd laughs again, and it’s a good sound, even if the anxiety in his chest squirms louder at it. He sweeps an arm out, eliciting a small laugh in response from Cal- just the two of them, and he knows the Count’s grandiose nature is just to relax him. 

“Let us begin, then.” 

Cold, dead lungs inhale a useless breath, and let it out. 

“What is your name?” “Calamine.” Strahd puts his chin in his hand, leaning forwards. “Let’s try… full name. Go on. Take a last name.” “... Bjornson?” Cal says, before he can think anything through. Strahd’s eyes narrow in disapproval. Wrong answer. That’s not his last name, after all. It’s Bryn’s. And it is a last name his Majesty seemed to think that Cal should sooner forget. 

“... von Zarovich?” Cal corrects, and Strahd’s hands meet at the fingertips as he leans back, hands splayed. Cal’s currently trying to keep himself calm, but he can barely make out the faintest hint of a smug smile as Strahd settles into his own chair, chin resting on the tips of his fingers.  “Acceptable. What is the date?”

“I don’t know. It’s winter, sometime in the mid-season, because it’s been snowing consistently. 1484.” 

“Where are we?” Strahd offers. “Castle Ravenloft.” Cal replies without thought, and he feels a familiar prick within his mind, like a needle pressed into his skull. Strahd’s intrigued expression says he’s doing something right. 

“How long ago since you last fed?” “Two nights.” Another prick, the sensation small and painful, but settling into a dull familiarity. 

“On who?” “Not sure.” Another. 

After that, it was hazy. Was the next question about something he’d liked, or something he’d done? How many were there? How long had it been? 

It’d been so long since he’d been subject to this. He thought he was safe here. That, maybe, Strahd hadn’t wanted him for this, whatever this was. He could be taken on his own merit, his own person. 

He could feel each and every moment as he answered the questions, and felt the sensation of them slipping away, the crushing realization that you won’t be able to form a memory, that the moment is as good as gone. And then that vanished, just to be realized again a moment later. 

In the vague haze of losing things, he was almost thankful for it. Probably better to let it slide out of his metaphorical grasp. If he was lucky, he’d forget the feeling of betrayal. 

Apparently, that rush of emotions was present in whatever quasi-magical slumber he’d been in, because he felt cold tears on his face when he awoke, restraints loosened enough he could slip out of them. 

He couldn’t make himself slip out of them. 

At first, he doesn’t see Strahd, but a scream from what sounds to be a nearby room starts, a shrill sound, quickly cut off with a ‘thud’, and then footsteps enter the room behind him. 

“Ah, there you are. Worried I’d come back and find you turned to ash. I’d have to drag out your coffin and keep an eye on it.” Strahd laughed to himself, seemingly in a better mood than he’d been in for a long time, like his day was only getting better. 

He helped pull Cal’s wrists from the restraints, unlatching the ones around his ankles, leaving streaks of blood and bone fragments on Cal when he did so, Strahd’s own hands and clothing coated in splatters of them. 

“Luckily not. I wouldn’t want you to miss this. Here, come- hm, no, wait. I don’t want you standing up and falling over. I’ll bring it to you.” 

Strahd moves, and Cal blinks. All at once, the exhaustion hits him, like he’s been hit with a battering ram. His limbs feel like lead, as if he’d put some great strain on them, and his eyelids were heavy. His head felt a bit light, woozy, like it always did after this. Just a little more intense than he remembered.

Strahd approaches him, placing a hand on Cal’s shoulder

“Look at that,” Strahd says in awe, voice a half-whisper as he leans over Cal’s shoulder, holding the vial out so they both can see it. “Like bottled sunlight.” And it is. It’s warm. It doesn’t burn, doesn’t spark up small flames on his skin, though he instinctively flinches like it would. 

The warm light looks unnatural as Cal glances up at Strahd, whose smile is twisted into a near-manic grin. He exhales softly. It’s a soft golden glow, looking like sand, casting warm light on both of them. Like the sun. 

“Nikolai told me, you know. He told me more than he thought he did. I bet it’s nice to finally be able to see this, hm?” Cal’s stomach sinks at the name, but he’s too tired to speak. 

Maybe he’s out of ‘practice’, maybe the fact that this was just another reminder of the man who had been taken from him in their youth, whose very existence Strahd used to keep him in line. 

Not that he’d ever think of acting out, of course. It was just important to his Lord that Cal knew to keep himself this way, hands-folded and soft-spoken obedience, tucking his desires and regrets neatly away so they weren’t a bother when Strahd was in a bad mood. 

It was a sour taste in his mouth, a brief and all-too-powerful reminder of things he’d rather forget.

“I always thought it was needlessly cruel, you know. Take all of this from you, and not even let you see it.” Strahd sighed, straightening up and moving to work on something behind Cal. The clinking of bottles, and Cal can make out the shifting of soft glowing light as his vision blurs a bit. 

“There. Now, Nikolai also told me you liked to sleep after these. So-” Strahd presses two fingers to the center of Cal’s forehead, brushing away some hair. “Sleep.” 

It takes just long enough for Cal to register what’s happening before he slumps over, giving into the warm sensation that washes over him, the sleep he’s been desperately avoiding for so long. His head rolls to the side, which elicits a small laugh from his Lord. The worry falls from his once-furrowed brow, and he’s just… calm. 

Strahd scoops him up, and after a moment, adjusts how Cal is held. He adjusts his cape, so Cal’s face presses into the fur that lines one shoulder. Instinctively, Cal smiles in his sleep, moves an arm up to tangle his hand into the fur. It’s something he’s done tens of times before, in the arms of another. 

He’s worlds away right now, in the arms of the man Strahd stole him from, sleeping in the embrace of a monster hunter in a bear-fur cloak in his dreams. 

The hands that untangle him from the fur, lay him back down in the armchair, rest his head on a pillow, and gently ruffle his hair are, to him, Bryn’s hands.

In his dreams, the hands do not hesitate to lay a blanket over him, unlike the real ones, which do it as an afterthought. 

It is not Bryn’s voice that mumbles about looking into leather straps to stop him from biting his own tongue off, or of experiments, of Cal’s future potential as he walks off. 

Perhaps it’s a good thing he’s not awake enough to hear it. 

#whump #whumpee: cal #oc: cal #ask to tag #whump writing #oc: nikolai #(mentioned) #other's ocs: bryn #whumper: Your Majesty #(pseudonym because eventually i wanna scrub the serial numbers off of s.trah.d)

[sarcasticgaypotato]

Well if you INSIST... ;) As you might’ve gathered from the last post, Mara is in a Curse of Strahd campaign, but no major spoilers here.

Freshly stuck in Barovia, Mara teams up with a group consisting of a fire genasi sorcerer named ‘Priscilla’ and her human fighter bodyguard named ‘Vayle,’ an aasimar paladin named ‘Beau,’ a rabbitfolk bard named ‘Quince’, and another fighter of, at the time, unknown race, but unnaturally tall and very pale, named ‘Alecto.’ The group comes to name itself ‘Community Dagger,’ who you can see here in some adorable art from one of the other players!

Mara and Alecto hit it off immediately with Mara tending to Alecto’s wounds and Alecto taking a protective role in battles. Alecto’s mysterious, but then again so is Mara- who has not told anyone of her condition or why she hides her face, leading to the only way of reading her expressions being the movement of her ears, which stick out of her hood.

Some one-on-one bonding and intense emotional scenes later, and Mara is the first to discover that Alecto is in fact a Deva- an angel who cannot permanently die, but loses some of her memories every time she perishes. She barely remembers who she is or what her life was, but she knows that she has a son who was kidnapped and she is going to get him back.

Mara, a holy woman, is naturally a little shocked at this realization, and quietly panics under her veil because this entire time she has been having some not-so-holy-thoughts about Alecto and her very big muscles, and it might be a sin to think about an angel like that- she’s not sure. Mara’s a big ol’ repressed lesbian nun- complete with intense touch starvation on account of the ‘I can’t touch anyone with my bare hands or they’ll die and I literally have a kiss of death’ thing.

Still, she swears to Alecto that she’ll do anything within her power to help her find her son and the two of them gain another relationship heart in this gothic dating sim that we’ve forced our DM along for the ride on.

If I recount the entire almost year-long campaign we’ll be here all day, so I’ll just go over the biggest Mara bullet-points.

- In a fight against one of the villains from Priscilla’s backstory and his pet Displacer Beast, Mara rolled multiple natural 20s on animal handling checks and managed to not only keep it from attacking, but sway it over to her side. She named the beast ‘Ghost,’ and proceeded to have frankly supernatural luck with further animal handling checks (including another nat 20) leading to a well-trained, friendly giant murder-cat that trails behind Mara wherever she goes.

- Alecto is naturally the first one to see Mara without her veil in a moment of trust and vulnerability,

(Mara art from the incredible @bondibee​!)

But Mara wasn’t looking quite as good as she does in this picture. Mara’s necrosis is rapidly getting worse, reaching all up her arms, across large portions of her face, and over her heart. Mechanically this is represented with an unavoidable, resistance-ignoring 2d10 necrotic damage anytime Mara’s blackened skin is touched (or if any vampire-spawn are stupid enough to drink her blood...). Damage which, fun fact, stacked with the spell ‘inflict wounds,’ which Mara was forced to have prepared every day. Less fun fact, this is actively killing Mara. Her goddess’s protection is holding back some of the damage, but she’s on borrowed time.

- So in the last post when I said Mara’s mom died of a mysterious sickness? That was a bit of a lie. Elora Delune, Mara’s mother, got very sick very rapidly, asked Mara to care for her siblings, and then was gone the next morning. Presumed dead and mourned for as such. ...Guess who’s undead? Mara’s mother, who had also contracted the same necrosis as Mara, ended up in Barovia, succumbing to the rot and becoming a feral, tortured undead that Mara and the others were forced to fight. After an emotional fight, Mara managed to get through to her mother enough for Elora to ask Mara to put her out of her misery, which a grief-stricken Mara agreed to.

- Mara’s necrosis + inflict wounds combo (affectionately named ‘nasty touch’ for its ability to do, at the time of its last use, 7d10 necrotic damage that ignored resistances with a 3rd level slot) found itself being used in a time of need, despite Mara’s hatred of performing harm and especially of using the necrosis. Then it was used again, and again, until Mara was struck with horror at just how easy it became to excuse its use in the heat of battle. In the wake of a fight with an outcome Mara blamed herself for, she resolved not to ever use it again.

- After a long emotional journey of accepting her own mortality and recognizing that she had been living half-a-life on ‘pause,’ Mara formally asked her goddess to stop holding back the progression of her illness and let the cards fall where they will, accepting whatever comes next, be it cure or death. She also asks her goddess to instead watch over Alecto, as the two of them continue to get closer.

- Mara’s appearance is gaunt and drained of life, blackened veins snaking all across her body. She gains a vulnerability to bludgeoning damage as her bones are brittle, and any piercing or slashing damage releases black smoke that reduces her ability to regain hitpoints. She grows weaker and despite her attempts to insist the group continues as planned, they all insist on finding a cure to save her before anything else.

- This results in the group finding themselves in a temple deep underground filled with pools of holy water, where Mara decides to try an unorthodox method. Alone save for Alecto nearby, she wades into the pool and uses a high-level moonbeam to illuminate the water with radiant light before submerging herself and intentionally drowning herself. Letting the holy water fill her corrupted lungs, Mara might’ve died if not for Alecto’s Healing Hands giving her just enough hit points to survive the intense onslaught of radiant damage and near death via drowning.

Pulled out of the water at just the right moment by Alecto, Mara is on the brink of death but at the same time, reborn. No trace of necrosis remains, leaving her skin its usual purple-ish hue, her features lively and seeming nearly a decade younger, but most importantly, her touch? Harmless. The two embrace in the midst of the temple, sharing a moment that very nearly could’ve become a kiss... but not quite.

- Finally free from her curse for the first time in hundreds of years, Mara is overwhelmed with emotion, full of hope for the future that she always dreamed of; settling down and raising more children, living a quiet, domestic life.

...Then she got bitten by a super powerful werewolf within 24 hours and was cursed again. (’curb your enthusiasm’ theme plays)

With ‘Remove Curse’ not being strong enough alone to break the curse, mission ‘fix Mara’s curse 2: electric boogaloo’ gets put on the to-do list.

- But... on the bright side; Mara and Alecto admit their feelings for each other, finally share a kiss, and have a night of playful mischief together pretending to be young again. This comes after months and months of delicious simmering away of gay feelings on both sides, and is to date one of the sweetest romances I’ve had the joy of participating in. The monochromatic moms are one hell of a duo.

---

There’s Mara Post part 2! I’m still leaving out plenty, but this post is long enough as is. Mara’s terrible luck with curses currently remains, and although Mara is eager to be rid of her lycanthropy, I’m personally having a lot of fun with it. ,

This character is genuinely so much fun to play, partly because of how very different than me she is. Maternal, wise, and inexplicably French-accented.

#dnd #d&d #mara #ghost #my art #friend art #tragically the mara/alecto ship name is m'lecto #I've tried to petition for literally anything else #but here we are #also it's important to note that Mara taught Ghost how to shake paw #with 4 out of her 6 paws #that's a lot of kitty beans to squish

[colorousme]

omg WHO is this mythias

He is my son, my guy, my dude, my boy, my player character in the Curse of Strahd campaign my friend runs in D&D for our group :>

He's an Elf Druid, has ADHD(-i) and also lost most of his memory up till the last 5 years (and since he's an elf, that means he's missing about... 168 years of his life). He became an Archeologist to search for clues as to how he lost his memories, which is why I dressed him like bootleg Indiana Jones :’) He likes puns, is addicted to dream pies (but recovering with the help of our cleric) and also has a very, very cursed staff.

[I guess spoilers for Curse of Strahd] The premise of the Curse of Strahd is that you and your party get caught in a heavy mist that transports you to Barovia, the land controlled by Count Strahd, the BBEG. This happened to our party and ever since, we've been trying to find our way out but it's become clear to us that the only way out is to uh.. get rid of Strahd basically. Unfortunately he is very powerful and very evil and we are but level 6 characters right now.

Anyway, a couple sessions ago we ran into someone (or she ran into us I should say) who recognised my guy Mythias under a different name! And I recognised her but only from some dreams I had, in which we uh.. held hands and danced together 😳 Anyway, here we meet her, her name is Ezmeralda and I love her so much:

Turns out my boy is from here, and not from Faerûn (regular D&D dimension) like the others! Once she’s calmed down, Ezmeralda tells me my backstory: I was born here, raised in an Elven druid commune, shielded from the rest of Barovia and most of Strahd’s influence. But as I grew up I grew restless and wanted to know what was out there, so I became an adventurer. I left the commune and saw the horrors of the land firsthand. I met a group of adventurers who’d been brought here through the mist, befriended them and became a part of their party. Then Ezmeralda met us and the two of us... fell in love. She didn’t mention that last part, but Mythias told her about one of the dreams he had and held her hand to illustrate what he saw and she... held his hand back! So there are still some left over feelings between the two of them and it’s been making me go insane for the past 3 months sjakdhflkjhsd

She also told me how we had tried to sneak into Strahd’s castle, but the mission went severely awry and one by one our party members fell, struck down by the monsters we were fighting and when she saw me go down as well, Ezmeralda managed to drag me and herself out of there, aided by an invisibility potion. She stole a carriage and fled with her unconscious friend and lover, leaving the others behind unable to save them all. She got to the mist barrier and, because of her lineage, passed through it into Faerûn and got me to a hospital, paid for all expenses and left to go back to Barovia. I woke up who knows how long after that with absolutely zero memory of what happened or who I was and decided to name myself Mythias, because that was the only name I could think of at the time. When I told her my name was Mythias during our first encounter since I came back to Barovia, she laughed at my face and went ‘Oh, you’re Mythias? Hon, that’s your father!’ so I guess we now know where he got the name :’) 

And uh, turns out Ezmeralda had something else she needed to tell him:

UUHHHH!!

So turns out I have a son :') His name is Dendrias, shortened to Denny, he's a 4,5 year old Half-Elf and I met him during our last session and I love him so much 🥺😭 Ezmeralda took us to the hidden commune so I could meet my dad, and my uncle and my little boy. All of em are druids and I feel very at home here.

Unfortunately that puts me in a very difficult position, because now I’m going to have to choose to either stay and take care of my son or to leave again to finish what we started!

And that’s where we are now and I’ve been poring myself over this dilemma for the past couple of weeks haha *sweats*

PS. For all non-Dutchies out there I put an English translation for each picture in their respective Alt-text.

Was this one the last straw be honest:

#ask away #undeactivateable #I hope this answers your question ;) #I've been kind of obsessed with him and Ezmeralda since the first reveal where she saw him called him by a different name and slapped him #aka the scene I drew in those first four pages #I originally had them arranged two by two but tumblr drafts was like 'did you mean to....Not do that lmao' and refuses to let me do it agai #anyway this is my son! #mythias #or Sylvias like Ezmeralda calls him #mythias & ezmeralda #ezmeralda #mythias masterpost #thank you for asking!!! #dnd #d&d #my own art tag....forgotten...... how...... #orz #I put it in the reblogged version tho the one with my kid in it

[mx-lamour]

Costuming Strahd: Art Addendum

I didn't include any mention of the official Dungeons & Dragons art for Strahd von Zarovich in my previous post, because I had dismissed it outright. There, I said it.

I shall strive to amend my folly in this addendum.

Let's start with that 5e cover:

I generally approve of this representation. No doubt it colored my concept of Strahd's silhouette, since this is the first image of Strahd I came into contact with, some two or three years ago.

The shape of this garb is much like what I was aiming for in my previous post. Strahd is sporting a crisp shirt with stiffened, buttoned cuffs, much like our modern button-downs or blouses spanning back into the mid-1800s. His torso is trim in a fitted vest with standing collar, which easily fits into the category of fantasy-Renaissance. Speculation on from where/when exactly the inspiration comes might be a futile effort; it would find itself at home among the elves in The Lord of the Rings, and I'm not about to dig into that concept work just now.

Actually, what his vest reminds me of most is 15th century brigandine [or tabard (see below), which would cover brigandine or a breastplate, which is why] it's the right length, if nothing else.

Reconstructing History, He's literally Elrond, and some brigandine

I believe I said it's easy to fake good pants, especially when sitting down. This example reinforces my point. His legs are indeed covered, and the result is not garish. Not particularly exciting, but nonetheless successful. You could probably even call them hose if you really wanted to.

His boots are literal extant riding boots, from "early 20th c." England, and honestly I'm so proud of this one-to-one reference.

[Fig. 1] and [Fig. 2], although my first thought had been Victorian cycling boots.

The cape draped around his shoulders appears to be quite thin and probably only falls to about his fingertips, since it doesn't drape over the chair cushion and he's not sitting on it. It could look like some kind of military cape. Or maybe even, to drag him back a few centuries again, something Elizabethan.

I'll do a whole thing on capes later.

Moving on...

Early Strahd von Zarovich was definitely Dracula by another name, but later art has been pretty consistently (from what I can see) this other red/blue outfit, with baffling ruby clasps instead of a single pendant around his neck.

That last one has me. To be fair, it's the only one gazing back at the observer... >.>

Look. This garb is sexy. It cannot be understated. While it's not what I'm going for in my own costume foray, this is a fantastic design. Here's why:

The line where blue meets red along his ribcage accentuates his chest. That same red draws the eye down over his crotch, subtly curving to accomodate his thighs. Those chains on his cloak and the sash around his waist are positively drippy, like the source of the Ivlis pouring down to the Tser Pool. The asymmetry of that and his mismatched shoulders gives him such a dynamic slant, something to visually climb back up like handholds on the face of a cliff. And the sash is supple, in direct contrast to his armored hips, solid and stalwart. His limbs are clad in slim nondescript brown, making it all the easier to focus in on his center, in high contrast dotted with solid rubies. The red and blue both, especially together, are blood colors, indicative of veins hidden beneath the skin.

He might be covered from toe to jaw, but this is an intimate costume.

Despite my appreciation for it, though, again, I personally am trying to make something a little less Lord of the Rings. For reasons.

So, let's see what I can come up with in terms of historical inspiration... if anything, lol.

This is going to be fairly stream-of-consciousness. (Not that it wasn't already, I suppose.)

The first thing that came to mind was a kaftan (or zupan?), because they can be fitted through the torso and feature a standing collar and embellished closures up the front. But, kaftans from Russia, the Ottoman Empire, and other areas touched by those cultures usually also have sleeves. I finally found the two illustrations below without sleeves, but they were difficult to track down and I'm not sure how much of what they depict is imaginary. (Although the sword, pouch, and helmet from the first one are definitely from an extant burial site.)

There's also the Polish kontusz, where the arms can be worn out of the sleeves, with the sleeves flipped back, and that can give the illusion of sleevelessness... A lot of examples I found of this particular garment are also open to the waist, which is delightfully provocative, but doesn't resemble the Strahd ensemble.

Examples from Chernigov (Ukraine) and apparently Moldova; a Polish kontusz

I can think of little source material for that long, pointed fantasy hemline, but allow me to grasp at some straws.

The straws in question.

Actually, this brings up a really good point of inquiry. Where does this drapery-between-the-legs situation that modern fantasy seems to be so enamoured with come from?

Tabards would seem the obious answer, but even that, in modern parlance, is used as an umbrella term for a wide range of garments that may or may not have any true basis in reality.

There's also just... loin cloths, I suppose, which can look like a piece of fabric just draped over the crotch and hanging between the legs, but there's usually more to it than that.

At last, after some digging around, I came across the video below. Bless Shad for his contribution to society.

It goes over all the the differences between those various styles of garment usually bearing symbols of allegiance all lumped together as "tabards", and presented me one more vocabulary word with which I was not yet familiar: the scapular.

Alas, monastic garb is my blind spot. Silly that I've played at least five clerics so far.

To summarize, I think the that the shape of the lower part of Strahd's... whatever-it-is... is inspired by a mix of these garments described in the video. It's short like a tabard should be, and has that dip between the legs reminiscent of a scapular.

But, ultimately, this thing is a waistcoat. Not a waistcoat in the Victorian sense; a waistcoat in the mid-18th century sense.

Monk wearing a scapular, and some fancy waistcoats.

Finally, the very-high standing collar on Strahd's waistcoat smacks of a couple things: Russia (again), or the Regency era. Although, in the Regency years, waistcoats became much shorter (ending at the waist) and lengthened up the other way with high standing collars. But, if you were to combine the two waistcoats above and throw in some suggestive high-hip cutouts like a 1980's leotard, you might come out with something that resembles what Strahd is wearing in all that sumtuous art.

The one with the sash really drives the comparison home.

With the initial kaftan comparison and this guy with the funny hair (a Count Vasili, coincidentally) above, Strahd von Zarovich's red/blue fantasy garb is also giving the Motherland, and folks, I already said that I was trying to keep blatant Russia out of Barovia (as much as that garb clearly slaps). But I also recently remembered due to this post that I am a total sucker for Russian pet names, so... who knows.

In the end... do I know what I'm doing? Absolutely not. I'm not sure which of these elements will filter into further consideration for my own Strahd von Zarovich costume, but I'm definitely glad I gave all this a look. Absolutely worth it. Learned a lot. ♡

#costume things #costuming barovia #strahd von zarovich #costume design #fashion history #costume history #curse of strahd #lamour dms cos #art analysis #art appreciation #ravenloft

[bc-johnson]

IP Freely

One of the really interesting things about this WotC / OGL thing (if it ends up coming to pass), is how it exposes a way they’ve shot themselves in the foot. I mean, other than the obvious.

Since you can’t copyright game mechanics (though I’m sure they’ll try to sue everyone anyway), D&D has two things remaining: brand recognition, and IP.

Their brand recognition is going to be the real hurdle, because it’s stronger now than anytime in the past, really. They’re about as close to mainstream as they’ve ever been. They got a Chris Pine movie coming out. They’re in the “generic” phase of popularity, where “playing D&D” is shorthand for the entire tabletop experience in all but the minds of the nerdliest of nerds (I include myself in this group, Deadlands4Ever!).

I’m not sure surmounting the brand recognition is possible for any new game (at least not on a short time scale), which is where the battle is going to be fought. Pathfinder has the strongest play, probably, if they can survive the legal fees they’re about to be assailed with. Sounds like Kobold Press is making some moves, too, and more power to them. Good luck, everyone.

However, WotC could have had an enormous second weapon in their arsenal, one they’ve systematically dismantled since around 3rd edition: their IP. Nowadays, I doubt many new players know anything about the D&D IP, and I don’t mean that in a grognard / gatekeepy way. I mean, the company used 3rd, 4th, and much of 5th (with exceptions) to wipe their own IP away in the name of ease of use. Which obviously worked for them - they clearly have the new player base they were looking for.

But, believe it or not, D&D used to have big iconic characters. Elminster and Tanis Half-Elven and the Dragon of Tyr. Fiction books on the best seller list. Spinoff game lore books in the dozens about each setting, packaged in full boxes with maps. Branded video games that introduced huge groups of non-dice rollers to places like Baldur’s Gate and Sigil. They had a mainstream Saturday morning cartoon show, for chrissakes.

Somewhere around 3e, though (when WotC took over), they started to seem embarrassed of their own IP. They released fewer novels, they alienated their own authors. They stopped making campaign settings (leaving 3rd parties to occasionally do it, but with little support or marketing), letting Dragonlance, Spelljammer, PlaneScape, Dark Sun, and Ravenloft wither on the vine. Generic Fantasy World A and B became the primary setting (Greyhawk in name only for 3e, the wildly beige “Points of Light” setting for 4e).

They certainly stopped trying to make movies or cartoons with their IP. Video games set in D&D worlds became thin on the ground, mostly just a half-hearted MMO no one remembers.

Why wasn’t there a Drizzt movie or cartoon? According to Telegram, the character sold 35 million novels and was on the New York Times Best Seller list dozens of times.

5e tried to make a course-correction. In the rulebooks, you started to see names like “Bruenor Battlehammer” in rules examples instead of the generic “Tordek” and “Mialee.” Curse of Strahd was probably the strongest IP exercise, single-handedly resurrecting Ravenloft and one of the brand’s most iconic villains for millions of new players.

But even these attempts have been lacking any real teeth. Ravenloft eventually got an anemic “Van Richten’s Guide” fully five years after Curse of Strahd became popular, a book that lacked sufficient detail for a true campaign setting - or sufficient flavor to excite newcomers. Dark Sun remains on a shelf. Dragonlance only recently started getting attention, but even those books have been premade campaigns pretending to be campaign settings. Spelljammer is probably their most notable effort in 5e, which actually came with multiple setting books, probably a callback to the heyday of Spelljammer (when D&D loved introducing you to new worlds).

But this isn’t about campaign setting books, though that shit contributes.

It’s more that WotC spent the past two and a half decades making D&D as generic as humanly possible, without all of the flavor and characters of their most interesting settings, and burying all of their actually valuable IP.

And now that people are looking to jump ship, the company has nothing more than branding to lean on.

I hate to say “I told you so,” but, well, shit. Turns out all those cool stories and settings hundreds of people worked on and millions of people loved had some value or whatever.

#Wotc #wizards of the coast #d&d #dungeons and dragons #ogl #long ass posts #wow this is really long #raistlin rules

[sunlitriddle]

A lot of people are UNDERSTANDABLY upset about the May 28th entry and it’s use of the G-slur. Please forgive me for not engaging with the novel’s problems itself.

My thoughts turn, instead, to the perpetuation of said stereotype within the Dracula genre TO THIS VERY DAY.  I love the Coppola Dracula (see previous posts) but it still has that damaging stereotype, further dehumanizing them.  Sure, yes, that was done in the early 90s, things have changed, right?  Well then, how about Curse of Strahd, published 2016?  Yes, it was based on a module written in 1983, but they didn’t bother to update it. Strahd and the Vistani are both barely veiled Scratch-the-Barcode-Off of Dracula and his “minions”.  And I can’t talk about the BBC Dracula because I can’t stand Moffatt’s writing, but I can assume that they’re still there, and that was 2020.  It certainly doesn’t get better if you go back in time.

Castlevania (2017) at least has the Traveling People framed as the persecuted minority who are just trying to live their best lives (whitewashed half to hell, though*), but they’re still there as a part of the Dracula setting.

Honestly, it’s hard to find a Dracula that doesn’t have this as part of the overall setting, whether you’re going for dubiously aligned fortune teller exoticism or the low-level punching bags.  And I don’t know how to fix it, because I can only assume that there would be Romani in Eastern Europe during the late 1800s, and most readily available contemporary histories were written by the Victorians and they’re terribly biased. (Think Jonathan’s running commentary, and that’s just The Vibe of the era.  The self-important Victorian historians ruined everything**). AND just think about how much of the history from the Romani themselves was (and still is) erased.  AND AND thanks to the almighty algorithm, you have to have a doctorate in search keywords and access to Behind Paywall stuff to find anything on a Googel search

Other things about Dracula that have been brought up, some of the antisemitism has been played up to absurdity (ex: the lizard wall crawling being taken literally, and Spider-man has taken over the Wall Crawling imagery) or dropped/mutated into other commentary (honestly, I always thought a lot of the “blood sucking” was a metaphor for how the aristocracy treated their serfs, so therefore a republic is better... also sex stuff) but I may have simply been naïve and not heard the dogwhistles for what they were.  

Anyway, as :T as I am about May 28th’s entry, it could have been left as this “125 Year Old Book is a Product of Its Time”, I’m more angry that this THIS little sliver of antiquity has been continually perpetuated WITHOUT CRITICISM (by filmmakers/writers/etc) for over a century.

*not necessarily “white” because calling anime characters “white” merits its own thinkpiece... yes, the anime was done in the US, but the game is Japanese, so it’s too complicated to just be an aside within another essay.  but the idea of removing the Romani coding from the Persecuted Nomadic People™ within the trope subversion to make them the “good guys” still stands and doesn’t sit right with me.

**also a broad claim that merits its own essay, but that’s not the point of this one.

#dracula daily #may 28th #bre makes noises #idk im not writing a researched essay in this chili's tonight