Buck: *hates math*
Athena: *wondering if they should hire a tutor*
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Hey there! I’m a huge fan of your work and it’s given me a lot of inspiration for my own world building.
I’m hoping to take my players on an artifact/treasure hunt in a lost rediscovered civilization ala Atlantis. Clockwork automatons, rival pirates, and multiple nations/kingdoms competing to take the powerful (possibly eldritch) prize would be lovely elements to this quest. Any connection between said prize and the civilization’s downfall would also be great.
Thanks in advance!
Adventure: The Rising Isles
Just as all souls must one day venture into the underworld, so too must all continents one day succumb to the ever churning sea.
Setup: Over the past few years, a series of oceanic quakes and tectonic shifts have unleashed a number of minor but unpredictable tsunamis on the surrounding coasts. Tracking this chaos back to its source, several royal oceanography societies have reported a localized rise in a particular set of the sea floor, transforming a stretch of lowland waters into an an unexpected archipelago.
As this landmass is revealed, so to are the ruins of an ancient civilization swallowed long ago by the waves, setting off a gold rush of archiologists and treasure hunters ( same difference) interested in scraping up all the treasures and artifacts they can before these new lands are claimed by an empire or sink back into the sea.
Despite what these colonial cartographers and dig-happy relic hunters would prefer to believe, the “Rising Isles” were not simply waiting unremembered at the bottom of the sea for thousands of years, and were instead the home to a collective of Merfolk schools known as the Buulral, who’s way of life have been greatly upset by the sudden dislodging of their homes. The Buulral now face a displacement crisis, as well as an influx of land dwellers intent on pillaging their ruined homes who mostly consider the merfolk literally "beneath their notice"
Beneath all of this, a sinister force lurks, one with the power to end civilizations and sink continents below the waves, abandoned by its aquatic caretakers in the midst of this chaos, waiting for some greedy or desperate soul to unleash it.
The civilization that ruled the archipelago before it sunk into the sea ( Referred to as the Gilt for the prominence of untarnished metals worked into their structures) were masters of artifice, and many of their ruins are still maintained and guarded by barnacle covered construcructs despite the landmass's long sojourn beneith the waves. Those temples and palaces that have spent the longest time above water have somehow been repaired to their former glory, bedecked with banners made of processed seagrass and decorated with trinkets of machine carved coral and sandbaked glass. Venturing into the flooded depths of these remade ruins reveals vast mechanisms of unknown purpose, intermixed with Gilt ritual sites and laboratories
Numerous empires see the Risen isles as the latest battleground in their endless game of intersea expansion, and have already begun to build strongholds in preparation for carving up territory, pushing the pirates and treasurehunters into ever more dangerous reaches of the changing sea while barely avoiding clashes with rival navies. Privateers run rampant throughout.
The crisis faced by the Buulral has brought old inter-school rivalries to a head, as different groups clash for safe territory while others consider alliances with the land dwellers. Negotiating with the merfolk may be the best way for a group or faction to gain an advantage on charting this emergent landscape, though looters may make an enemy of those merfolk traditionalists that want their territory back and don't care what losses they may cause or suffer in the process.
Investigating the culture and iconography of the Gilt shows the existence of a pantheon of mostly forgotten or since reimagined gods primarily relating to life upon the waters, chief among them an earthshaking deity from whom the civilization's leaders claimed to descend. A different iconography is found in hidden sections of the ruins: skylines of cities, architectural studies, and birds-eye topographies of mathematically perfect landscapes ,all centering around the iconography of some kind of sphere, all completely bare of people.
These signs are the last vestiges of a cult that undid the Gilt, in service to an outergod/philosophy by the name of Cezil’Tek, or “ The Cutting Stillness”, which filled its followers minds with visions of a perfect city, a perfect society.. The Cezil’Tek cult grew as a faction among the city’s artificers and political elite, and in their zealotry constructed a device they called the Auriferous Epiphany that would purge all “imperfection” from their ranks. Whether they knew it would kill them all is lost to time, but the effects remain the same: every living thing in the city, in the entire isles was transformed into gold, to be melted down by their own servitor constructs and used to gild their temples.
The Early Buulral settlers of the sunken archipeligo discovered the Epiphany and the danger it possessed, breaking it into peices and putting it far beyond the reach of any who might use it. While some of these pieces ended up in the bellies of leviathans or tossed into the stygian abyss, others ended up in the surface-breaching spires of some ruins, tragically accessible to those who could breathe air. These ancient merfolk also kept their discovery a secret.
Though scattered, The pieces of the epiphany are still extensions of Cezil’Tek, and long to be reunited and used once again, instilling the minds of those that hold them with dreams of strength, order, and perfection. A privateer dreams of a villa on an island paradise, filled with gold and perfectly peaceful. A colonial admiral dreams of a full warchest and a fleet of invincible ships to guard the empire forever, a Buulral school leader dreams of the power to sink the archipelago once again, this time so deep into the ocean that no one will ever be able to find them again. Each launches a treasure hunt for the other pieces in their own way, never suspecting the otherworldly influence that plays in their mind.
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911 4x12 // “I think it’s time we show them how it’s done.”
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Eddie sweetie your jealousy is showing, and we love to see it.
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Villain: Captain Barrgo Dyer, head of the Civil Guard
“The Masters o’ this city have left the task of keepin the peace, an’ I’ll more n happily break yer yapping jaw rather than let any of your caterwauling trouble their ears. Am I understood, gutterskum?“
Setup: Despite presenting themselves as defenders of law and order, Captain Dyer and his “Civs” are perhaps one of the largest criminal organizations at work in the city today, squeezing the populace for coin with one hand while cracking skulls with the other.
Originally intended to be a stop-gap measure after a series of disastrous grain shortages led to riots and fires across the city’s wards, the civil guards were made a permanent fixture of city infrastructure almost twenty years ago, replacing the patchwork of neighborhood watch organizations and mutual protection pacts that dealt with crime and disruption since. Where as those groups had been loyal to their communities, the Civs were loyal only to the nobles and guilds who paid into their charter, and had no qualms about enforcing peace at spearpoint.
Taking eagerly to being a blunt instrument for uncaring overlords, Barrgo ascended up the ranks and secured his place as Captain of the Guard, and has since used his position and the resources granted to him by it to turn the city into one large protection racket. Every law enforcement agency takes bribes to look the other way on occasion, but Barrgo’s ambitions were larger: squeezing neighborhoods and individual merchants for “donations” while feeding information to his criminal contacts about who was and wasn’t under his force’s protection. He also changed the entire ecosystem of crime within the city, allowing specific illegal enterprises to pay for his lenience, while at the same time sending him after their competitors. Years of this “bidding war” have seen Barrgo become a rich man, and an unofficial kingpin of the city’s underworld, with all but the most minor crime or graft requiring his approval.
The Status Quo suits the Captain just fine, and he vigorously opposes any force or actor that would seek to disrupt it, even if they might have the city’s best interests at heart. Should the party go about warning the populace of a looming threat or even trying to solve a crime on their own, it’s very likely they’ll be getting a visit from a number of armored thugs intending to intimidate them into silence. This “intimidation” can escalate to full on beatings and abduction if the party crosses one of the nobles or guilds who pays into Barrgo’s charter, making him a great secondary villain alongside aristocratic antagonists to good to do their own dirtywork
While each Civil garrison has its own lockup, real troublemakers get tossed in the Shitpit: the Guard’s clandestine prison operated without the city’s oversight, and converted from an old Cistern. The party is likely to find one or all of their number in the Pit should they offend Barrgo personally, or if they happen to need the services or knowledge of someone who did.
Defeating Barrgo is easier said than done, as exposing his criminal enterprise or outright killing the man doesn’t stop the system of thuggery and corruption he’s built up around him. If the party truly wishes to abolish the Civil guard, and prevent the rise of a new Captian Dyer, they’ll need to rally the populace and petition the city’s rulers, replacing the Guard with a a system with more oversight and accountability built direclty into it.
Converted from a disused cistern and surrounding tunnels, the Pit has only one entrance or exit, a hole in the central ceiling that requires prisoners and supplies to be hoisted in and out. Criminals and vagrants are left to fight over whatever hiding space they can find and whatever supplies they can snatch away from the others. When the Civs want something from their prisoners ( such as a specific individual to come back up) they simply withhold food for a couple days, and have no qualms about letting the whole group starve to death in order to “clear out” a troublesome back of captives. Repeated starveouts have given rise to a nest of ghouls that dwell within the darkest corner of the shitpit, preying on weak or unwary prisoners.
The oldest prisoners of the pit tell tales of a darkened doorway that appears where you least expect it, and those fool individuals who have walked through it and never returned. Is this a miraculous escape? or a portal to an even worse prison in the underdark or shadowfell?
One of Captain Dyer’s greatest frustrations was a thief by the name of Lyle Latch, who stole a fortune in jewls and gold over the years before falling into the Captain’s custody. Even under torture, Latch wouldn’t reveal where he’d hidden his treasures, so the Captain threw him into the Shitpit in order to see if darkness would loosen his tongue. After three months, Lyle was hauled out, delirious and dying from infection, and was yet again questioned by the Captain. Lyle laughed , saying “ I left you a map, why don’t you jump down and find it out for yourself?” before spitting in Barrgo’s face and dying on the spot. Ever since, the Captain has been obsessed with the map, offering any prisoner who brings it to him a chance to walk free, no matter their crime.
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The duo is finally here!...I just figured Illinois and Captain Magnum would make quite the pair on their treasure seeking adventures... not that it always goes smoothly for the Captain, who at the moment is frantically patting the fire out of his beard, thanks to his keen sense of direction and Illinois taking his sweet time sauntering...
I included thumbnails since this was a really large piece... please click and zoom for details!
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Campaign Start: Windfalls & Wyrmlings
It takes a village to raise a child, lets just hope the village isn’t razed in the process
Setup: It’s been years since the dragon Zaurigel terrorized the skies over the hinterlands settlement of Colver’s Deep, brought down by a now famous team of hunters who’s names have been sung across the land ever since.
Our story does not begin with these slayers, instead we follow a band of hardluck sellswords and their tagalong companions who missed out on the dragonhunt altogether, and have only now stumbled into the events that will make them into heroes
Despite the beast’s glorious death, no one was able to find Zaurigel’s lair you see, and the vast horde of wealth that was rumored to be contained within. No one, until one of the party managed to discover a deep cave out in the mountains that bore clawmarks and telltale blue scales deep within its reaches. Assembling a few of their trusted friends together to brave against the dangers of the wilderness ( and help carry all the loot), they set off to make their fortunes. Traveling to the horde is not all that dangerous. Sure it takes a bit of climbing, and in the dragon's absence some beasts have moved into the cave.... but the true adventure begins when the party looks out over a cavern full of riches and realize how woefully unprepared they and their community are for such a vast inheritance.
Unlike most underdog adventures, this campaign start is less about grinding to the top meant as a test of what happens when people unprepared for power suddenly handle it. The party should all have financial woes that this wealth could go to alleviate, great ambitious that it could fund.... but walking into town and paying off your family’s debts to the local land baron is likable to raise some eyebrows. They HAVE to be careful with it, or else they’ll end up thrown into a dungeon and tortured by the avaricious until they’re forced to give it away. Whether it be bandits, Colver’s deep’s own corrupt authority figures, or those dragonslayers who catch word of that long deferred lootdrop.
Perhaps the greatest treasure in the horde is a single mottled, melon sized egg, one that will quickly hatch after the party begins fussing over it and expunge a derpy little wyrmling the party will be forced to adopt on the spot out of sheer cuteness. What better metaphor for unexpected responsibility than becoming unwitting parents to an undersized apex predator that will totally blow their cover if the townsfolk ever catch sight of it.
In addition to the valuables contained within the hoard, there are also a plethora of obscure magical objects, that the party will have to spend time discovering. hijinx are guaranteed to ensue, as each of these treasures can become an unexpected adventure hook in their own right. Expect cursed items, sentient items, and things that are just a little too magical to sit still once the opportunity for escape has been presented to them.
While the party could continue to go on your traditional “do task and be rewarded” sort of quests, their sudden influx of funds is likely to throw the traditional adventure motivation system out of wack. Instead, they should be confronted with problems where throwing money at the issue is the easy option, but risks people noticing just how loaded our party has become. Bandits kidnap an important NPC’s family member? why not just pay the ransom? Abusive landlord working his tennant farmers to the bone? Buy the land out from under him and set the party up as kings of their own village. The idea is to force the party to think smart about what resources they have at their disposal, or else let the villains onto the fact that they know where the dragon’s horde is. Eventually our heroes will slip up, and you’ll have your first-act baddie.
Neck deep in their current troubles, the party is completely blindsided when one of the dragonslayers shows up, turning their battle with the avricious villains of Colver’s Deep into a three way standoff. In true murderhobo fashion, the slayers are badasses but completely amoral when it comes to their persuit of loot, and they have very few qualms about putting the squeeze on the party to get what they deem to be theirs. Only one shows up at first and is more than a match for the party... but then the rest of the slayers arrive, and our heroes will be completely outgunned.
The most dangerous of the dragonslayers is their leader: Ezekiel Reigns (not his real name), a wily old sorcerer who now wields a staff composed of Zaurigel’s bones that allows him unparalleled mastery of the skies. All the fun and tension of facing off against a sniper, except the sniper is several hundred feet in the air throwing down lighting bolts out of a clear sky.
After having a showdown with a dragonslayers over the horde, the party returns to find storm clouds over Colver’s Deep, and the settlement itself in flames. Zaurigel’s lesser siblings have shown up, and they want revenge... or at least one of them does; another wants the treasure and are intent on terrorizing the townsfolk until they learn it’s location, the last wants to claim the town and its surrounding regions as their new territory, and is squabbling with the others with no care for collateral damage. Lets hope the party was kind in raising their wyrmling friend, as it might be the only thing that can avert a disastrous confrontation.
Also, I’ve had this adventure in my head for a while, and was largely inspired by this post, Griping about skyrim is how I got my start in designing adventures, and I encourage the rest of you to go out and imagine better versions of the things you love to jumpstart your own creativity.
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No one knows where that treasure chest is but me.
Forrest Fenn, an 85-year-old millionaire, former Vietnam fighter pilot, self-taught archaeologist, and successful art dealer.
Fenn is a millionaire who hid a treasure chest in the Rocky Mountains. Adventure seekers look for clues based on a poem he published in his book, The Thrill of the Chase, with hopes of claiming the million-dollar treasure.
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GRIAN YOU ABSOLUTE MADMAN.
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Wondering if you had any ideas for making the obligatory D&D barroom brawl a bit more interesting? Just curious. Thanks.
Adventure: Brawling in the Buck n’ Barrel Tavern
“A place so nice you can’t help but want to take a bat to it”
Setup: While most taphouses frequented by adventurers fall somewhere from rustic to raucous to “ready to kick your teeth in”, sometimes there’s reason to patronize a more civilized establishment. Located squarely in the “Nicer” end of town ( though not actually wealthy), the Buck n’ Barrel caters primarily to merchants and well to do townsfolk, as well as those travelers who want a place to rest where they don’t have to sleep in a common room or check the mattress for dire-flees.
Serving such a discerning customer base means the Buck n’ Barrel is the ideal place to conduct business, go trawling for marks to pickpocket, or wine and dine a perspective patron.
Though a stay at the Buck n’ Barrel can come out on the pricier side, it’s well worth it for those adventurers who can afford the scratch: The tavern’s extensive menu, good company, and deliciously comfortable beds not only restore all lost hitdie on a long rest, but also grant two bonus hitdie at the start of the day, which may be added to the character’s total, or spent immediately for temporary hitpoints that last all day.
Weapons are not allowed past the door in this tavern, meaning that the party will need to get creative if they want to throw down with an aggressive opponent. The one exception to this rule is Malvalio a swaggering braggart of a duelist who is retained by the proprietors as security for their establishment. Though he’s cocky and as much a showoff as his bared 6-pack would suggest, Mal is skilled enough to back up his words, and is sworn to defend any of the clientele against aggressors. Urbane villains may contrive to meet with the party at the Buck n’ Barrel under the flag of parlay, then pull a stunt to make it seem as if our heroes are the ones out for flood. With a master swordsman guarding their escape, the villain leaves and lets the party suffer the consequences.
After receiving a job offer from a wealthy antiquities dealer to do some dudgeon delving on their behalf, the party meets in the Buck n’ Barrel to discuss their contract only to hear raised voices coming from one of the private rooms on the upper floor. Their prospective employer, Basilidies Slynt makes his fortune in trading rare antiquities, and has recently acquired information pointing to the tomb of a lost saint of the Allhammer. News of this acquisition reached the ears of Shaper Torlun, a dwarven monk whos abbey was founded by said saint, and who greatly disapproves of someone selling off their founder’s bones piecemeal. Tolrun came with the intention of convincing Basilidies to give up the information and the relic’s location, but has lost his temper after the antiquarian became politely intractable. Having been discovered in his fury, Torlun will leave, but the players should expect to see more of him should they decide to work with Basilidies.
For the Asker: So, everyone’s run a barfight, and since running a regular combat with improvised weapons tends to fall short of the “iconic” experience we’re trying to tap into, I think there’s definite room for improvement.
To that end, I recommend using my BRAWL system, a mini-game I designed to do quick n dirty combats, such as the party fighting past the disposable guards to get to the big boss encounter.
Brawls are run like a skill challenge, ( you need to get X successes before 3 failures, where X is the difficulty of the challenge ( generally 2+the number of players involved+1 per “difficulty” of the challenge)) with a few exceptions:
At the end of every round the brawl isn’t over, the mob of combatants make an attack roll vs every player currently engaged in the brawl ( decide for yourself how tough this attackroll is based on the crowd’s particular rowdiness). A successful hit does a minor amount of damage, but also INJURES those hit
INJURIES are tallymarks noted next to an ability score ( to assign an injury randomly, roll a d6, and go down the list of abilities), every tally mark beyond the first represents a size of die that is subtracted from rolls using that ability: so 2 tallies is a -1d4, 3 is -1d6 etc.
Healing INJURY requires the character to spend extra hidice equal to the amount of tallymarks they want to clear during a long rest, with a successful medicine check allowing the same over a short rest.
Players can ALWAYS choose to “ Stay out of it” as their action in the brawl, suffering no injuries in exchange for not adding to a fight. A character who was previously brawling might need to make a diplomacy, deception, or stealth check to disengage from combat.
Players can also GET INTO THE THICK OF IT, rolling direct attackrolls against the crowd for successes, but granting the mob advantage on the end of round attack wave against them.
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The Adventure Duo
Art Wip?? I guess?
Please forgive how sloppy this is, I’ve been fighting a migraine all day so it’s been slow go on this... heck I don’t even know if it’s funny to anyone else... I just figured Illinois and Captain Magnum would make quite the pair on their treasure seeking adventures... not that it always goes smoothly for the Captain, who at the moment is patting the fire out of his beard... thanks to Illinois’ torch and his keen sense of direction.
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Dungeon: The Castle of Great-Pyre Lake
“I operate under the principle that if that folk immortalize your downfall in a ballad or skip-stone rhyme, you were likely an ‘arse and deserved everything you had coming”.
-Pravi Thornmead, haflfing bard.
Settling in at the local tavern, There’s a story the locals tell late at night; part folktale, part ghost story, and it begins with a man who had everything. Like any man who had everything he was never satisfied, and his many abuses (detailed below) of the poor tenants who he presumed to possess culminated in his attempt to replace a maid he’d recently work to death by purchasing the daughter of the village cobbler. Having had quite enough of this spendthrift tyrant, the daughter led the villagers in sealing the man who had everything, along with all his possessions and his many guards inside his richly appointed castle and setting the whole thing on fire. The party is welcome to venture out to the swamp and see the still blackened ruins, to perhaps poke through the ashes for some treasure as many have before. Perhaps they’ll come back and spend a few of those coins on drinks for the ones who told them the tale, eh?
The deposed master of this domain once imported beasts from all over to fill his menagerie, discarding them into the wilderness when he grew bored of them. Folks still tell tales of the hobbled chimera that held up in the hills some generations ago, and even today there’s a dangerous number of cockatrice still stalking the marshland.
Though tales of the Man who had Everything’s cruelties are myriad, a sharp eared treasurehunter might pick out a story where a starving farmer was offered the chance to pay off his debts to his lord if he retrieved a particular sapphire ring before the end of the day. After getting the farmer to agree to the terms of this bet, the man who had everything showed him this ring, and tossed it down an old well. Neither the farmer nor the ring were ever seen again, but perhaps the party will fare better in delving into the dark and chilling aquafer in the hopes of loot.
Setup: While he burned, the Man who had Everything ( who’s name was Lord Andras Vernocck) thought nothing of escape, instead racing about his increasingly smoke filled castle attempting to save his treasures and cursing his treacherous servants and inattentive guards. His squawking ( and all the fire) caught the attention of a dark spirit of pride and cruelty that’d come to live, stealthy as a tapeworm, in his abode. This devil approached the dying Andras, who’d collapsed trying to haul a portrait of himself out of a burning study ( the delicious irony), and offered to repay his host’s unwitting hospitality by ensuring that Lord Vernocck survived the disaster. Fortunes could rebuilt after all, and he’d even do the noble a courtesy befitting of his station and not take his soul in the bargain.
Fearful of the flames and losing anything more, Andras Vernocck accepted the deal without hesitation, immediately regretting it as the devil walked off into the conflagration untouched, laughing all the while. In the proceeding hours, the man who had everything was reduced to nothing along with the rest of his possessions, his soul secured to this plane by the devil’s bargain, unable to escape to any afterlife.
When the fires died down all that was left of Vernocck was his charred and blackened skeleton, around which his being slowly began to reconstitute. He now exists as a twisted form of vampire, his flesh nothing more than compacted ash hanging off his bones, forced to hide in the ruins of his once palatial home for fear of a wind that may flay him, or the water that will dissolve him into mud. Truly unable to die until the devil releases him, Andras has devolved into something piteous and feral, driven to stalk and rob those who come to loot his destroyed home, driven by visions of rebuilding the privilege of his past.
Background: Like any other man who had everything he was never content, either with his money or his malice, and engaged in petty acts of cruelty to flaunt his high station above those poor souls who lived on his land. As he walked he’d toss gold coins into gutters and animal pens, just to watch laborers foul their clothes scraping in the muck. He’d amuse himself by importing exotic beasts from forign lands as pets and when he’d tire of them he’d release them onto the common land, either to die or to terrorize his tenants. To spite winter’s chill he’d keep every grand room in his drafty castle blazing hot, having his servants chopping and carting in loads of firewood during snowstorms to feed the hearths of halls they’d otherwise be forbidden from entering.
Things came to a head when one day the man who had everything showed up at the house of the village cobbler. He was there to make a purchase he said, and hefted a pouch that jingled most appealingly.
“I’ve made you many fine shoes already” said the cobbler, “but anything in my shop is yours”
“ Anything? Good” said the Man who had Everything. “ I was attended by your lovely daughter last time I was here for a fitting, and have decided I’d like her to be a maid in my castle. She is very pretty, and my last one caught a chill and died quite suddenly.” And with that he dropped the pouch, which spilled gold and rubies across the Cobbler’s floor.
The Cobbler was stupefied, as was their daughter, it was enough money to feed her remaining siblings for years, but all were well aware of the cruelty with which the man who had everything treated his servants.
“ Give me a day to finish my work and a day to pack my things.” Said the daughter to the Cobbler’s horror. “ On the third day I’ll be on your doorstep ready to do clean your castle from top to bottom.
The Man who had everything smiled and tipped his hat, pleased at his purchase, and returned to his castle. The Cobbler broke down into tears, and could only be consoled when their daughter told them her plan. They went to the Cobbler’s cousin the Smith, and the Smith brought many nails. They went to the Smith’s beau the Boatmaker, who carried up thick barrels of pitch. They went to their neighbors who together brought up timbers and their tools, and on the night before the third day they went in secret to the Man’s muchabused servants, who brought them to the backways of the castle, under the noses of their employer’s guards, who were stupefied by a sudden and unscheduled donation from the town’s master brewess.
Quickly and quietly as they could, the cobbler’s daughter and all her friends and neighbors nailed the Man’s castle shut, turning it into a vast trap .
The villagers stood and watched their work burn through the night, and on the dawn of the third day the cobbler’s daughter stood at the doorstep and surveyed her work. “ I was called to be a maid but it seems this castle is already clean” She said, “ From top to bottom I see nothing but good, clean ash here, and that will be swept away by the wind without my help. Pray help me friends look this over, and we can see if we can find anything that needs cleaning”.
And so the villagers walked through the ruin, scraping up what gems and other riches had survived the blaze. It would do little to repay the years of abuse heaped on them by the man with everything, but still a little pay was more than the Man had ever given them.
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I realized that I haven’t shared this here on tumblr (´∀｀；)
These are recolors of Lovelace's 3t2 Graffiti Jacket (AM only), edited without the graffiti and added with some details :D
Info, swatches, and the mesh are included in the rar. Enjoy!
Download Jaunty Jackets
Credits: EAxis, @lovelacing
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Treasure Hunt ArtWIP update thingy
It’s not much of start but hey Im finally doing a thing?! But now I can’t keep my eyes open anymore so gnight and sweet dreams to y’all 💕
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Wilderness: Down the Sentinels’ Way
Since a time before empires the sentinels have stood, stone colossi guarding the old road against an unseen threat from beyond the horizon. Time has thinned their ranks but seems unable to conquer them completely.
Setup: Stretching from a high mountain pass to the lowlands sheltered within the heart of the continent, the Sentinels’ way is perhaps one of the most ancient roads in existence. The sentinels in question are giant statues, ranging between four to twenty stories tall, erected in the dawn age by some long forgotten empire for an unknown means, each depicting a warrior standing ready and proud.
Well over eighty and a hundred miles long, the actual “way” of Sentinels’ way ranges from well traveled roads between settlements, crumbling cobbles half swallowed by the land, and long drowned sections of the path washed out by encroaching rivers and lakes, navigable only by boat. Still, this ancient highway is well traversed, and the party can expect to have many adventures as they traverse it in search of greater adventure.
Caravans of merchants and pilgrims make their way up and down the Sentinels’ way constantly, connecting isolated temples and backwater towns in a vast network of support. A party can earn good coin as guards on these circuits, getting to know the caravanners, the watering holes, and the people who frequent the route. Exploring and mapping out their own routes through the Way could make up the arc of an entire campaign, ensuring the party is familiar enough with the terrain, people, and politics to launch into a really in-depth war adventure, or an in-depth drama involving trade disputes, sabotage, and rival business interests.
The party comes into possession of a very abstract treasuremap, depicting three sentinels facing the viewer, and a top down view of a particular highland valley & lake. Only one of the statues is actually NEAR this valley, where as the other two are scattered miles away from one another. A clever surveyor may understand that the secondary two statues actually look out over the landscape at different angles, and that by overlaying this intersecting angle on the original map (anchored by a few more symbols) their intersecting views can point the way to a buried vault of treasure. Asking around for the location of these statues may draw unwanted attention, as rival treasure hunters will be eager to steal the map, or to jump the party once they’ve made the claim.
A rivertroll has been harassing the barges along one of the flooded sections of the way, demanding tribute in exchange for not sinking the boat or snacking on any of the oarsmen. Though investigation the party learns that the troll has a particular fondness for alcohol, and that by staging a bargewreck ( as well as somehow acquiring enough hooch to do the deed) they may be able to get their quarry drunk enough to properly ambush, negating both its sharp senses, and its titanic strength.
( This adventure can be part of a larger adventure arc, which I’ve outlined HERE, feel free to check it out. )
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If you know which game this dialogue is from, then kudos to you!!
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[KAKASAKU PIRATE FEST] - TREASURE HUNT
Kakashi : “ Looks like it took you so much time to find the treasure map huh, Miss Haruno “
Sakura : “ Tehehe So sorry, my habit is a little hard to give up when you found a lot of medical literature “
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i'm not super into dnd, mostly bc no real try at it has worked out w me and my family/friends and Current Events means i can't like go to my local game place, so i come with something that may not fit, but could be a good inspo for someone else. could you make a safe, happy place? like a lil sanctuary where adventurers can take a breather, maybe do some lil side quests for trinkets. no hidden motive, no secret evil, just a place to relax and grow together as a party. Maybe even some RP opportunities? idk, if that's too much then just pick out what u want to use. ty for ur time
Player home: Duskwater Manor
Bruised, blooded, and exhausted after their last disastrous expedition, the party finds themselves on the doorstep of a grand lakeside estate, welcomed in by the few servants who maintain the grounds and provided a place to rest and refresh themselves. A true and lifesaving boon to be sure, but what exactly is this place, and why is it that the oft referred to mistress of the house never quite makes an appearance?
While in the company of some more seasoned adventurers, the party hears tell of a place called Duskwater Manor, a sort of clubhouse or retreat exclusive to those who've "made it" as wandering explorers and do-gooders. If the party wants to join this esteemed society, they'll need to bolster their reputation as local heroes, earning the respect of their peers and whatever unseen benefactor offers access to this manse.
Actually FINDING Duskwater Manor can be quite convoluted, as few in the nearby settlement actually recognize the name. Rather than instructions, the invitation the party may receive ( or stumble across in the course of their adventures) contains a few pleasantries and a hand drawn map depicting a stretch of the local lakeside. The heroes will need to put their cartographic skills to the test, searching out the area on foot or perhaps hiring a boat to survey the lake itself.
Setup: Built on the edge of a lake famous for the way it reflects and refracts the colors of the setting sun, Duskwater Manor is a scenic sanctuary located on the edge of civilized land, a perfect place of respite for those heading to/from adventurers in the greater wilderness.
While it was originally built as a small fortress meant to protect the town on the other side of the lake from raiders and river pirates, the structure was eventually abandoned and became a lair for wandering monsters. When a group of adventurers were hired to drive these monsters out, they fell in love with the beautiful lakeside views, and decided to refurbish the crumbling fortification as their base of operation. Generations later, Duskwater Manor is a haven for the wayward, providing a home for all those who venture far in service to the greater good.
Travelers and bravos congregate by the Manor's hearth, recuperating after long journeys abroad or simply preferring the scenery to the clutter of the nearby town. While some prefer to spend these days in solitude wandering the grounds, others cluster by the hearth or in the halls, trading boasts and stories of their travels. If the party keeps an ear out, these gossips can be an endless source of new adventure hooks, sharing tales of near and far and mysteries waiting to be explored.
Like any great house, Duskwater Manor employs people to take care of it, though the staff is largely limited to a few servants and groundskeepers, as well as a bargeman who ferries supplies and guests to and from town when offered the proper incentive. By far the most notable of this staff is the gnomish librarian Forebeth Valchi, the niece of one of the original adventurers who took Duskwater as their home. An ardent bibliophile and keeper of knowledge, Forebeth has a special interest in tales of dragons, and is delighted to speak with any who might share rumors or accounts of them. A party who befriends Forebeth can get leads on lost hordes, on wyrms still marauding out in the wilderness. They might even be able to bribe her with salvaged draconic scales or teeth for access to the Manor's restricted books and other secrets.
Though the servants speak of her with Reverance, and the guests toast to her each night, the Mistress of the Manor remains unnamed and unseen, making her will known through intermediaries or notes slipped under doors in the dead of night. Guessing at the Mistress's identity is a popular pastime among local adventures, with leading theories being a scandalized offshoot of the ruling family, a victim of a faerie curse of anonymity, or the ghost of one of the original adventures.
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this honestly describes a fair amount of the tumblr population
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