tomahawkbunny:

D&D Gothic

– It’s still there. The only die you haven’t lost from your original set. It’s a d12. You’ve never rolled it once.

– The mini you’ve been using looks nothing like your character. You commission art of your character. The art looks exactly like you described. It looks almost exactly like the mini.

– The snack bowl arrives at your table. You reach over the DM screen to grab a chip. The bowl is empty. The session has yet to begin.

– A dice tower is constructed. The whole table goes silent. A d10 is balanced on a d4. You’re all silent. The tower sits, wobbling slightly. Silence. It crumbles for no apparent reason. You can finally breathe again.

– The DM draws a map. They’ve drawn a river on the side. It’s in red. A working blue pen is right beside them. No one mentions it again. No river is ever mentioned in game.

– A player’s character dies. Next session, they introduce their new character. Then themselves. You laugh. You know them already. Don’t you?

– You are telling someone about DnD. You want to tell them about funny stories with wacky hijinks. There are so many. You can’t remember a single one.

– This weeks session was cancelled. There is a disquiet at the time you should be there. Involuntarily, your hand shakes, then tosses a non existent object. Shake and toss. Shake. Toss. It is comforting.

– You roll for something important. The result is average. You look in the DM’s eyes pleadingly. They stare back for a moment, expressionless. They then say you pass. You feel relief, but a shiver runs down your spine.

– The DM hides behind their screen. They mutter softly. They look up, tell a player to roll for something, then look down, nodding. They don’t acknowledge the player’s result.

– You have many character concepts on hand. You love them all. You get a chance to play. You no longer have any character concepts you really want to try. At least, not until it’s too late.

– A dues ex machina occurs. Was the encounter unbalanced, or was it part of the plot? You aren’t sure. You’re the DM.

– Every time you look away, a die dissappears, and this one player’s cheeks get poofier. Eventually, their mouth seems like it’s about to burst. They do. Their mouth is empty. No one knows where the dice went.

– Someone tells an inside joke. It’s very funny. No one knows where it’s from.

yourplayersaidwhat:

DM (to our bard): The six cultists shove you to the ground, bow to the massive green dragon, and say, “Oh Great One, we have brought you this gold and this human sacrifice as tribute to your greatness. Please accept our offering.”

Rest of Party, looking on from a distance: Shit. He’s dead. He’s so dead. RIP Edward. 

DM: The dragon thanks the cultists and asks if you have any last words.

Bard: I look up at the dragon and say, “I have brought you this gold and these six cultists as tribute to your greatness.”

Rest of Party: OH SHIT!

DM, who was clearly not expecting that: …………roll persuasion.

Bard: 17.

DM: The dragon says, “I like you. Duck.”

Bard: ….I duck?

DM: The dragon incinerates the cultists with his poison breath and leaves you alive, flying off with his treasure. 

Bard: Oh my god. I thought I was dead.

DM: Honestly? So did I.

phoenixflorid:

shiftingpath:

viridian-sun:

geostatonary:

shiftingpath:

siderealsandman:

phoenixflorid:

shiftingpath:

lucentgallivanter:

maidens say i can kiss the pattern spiders at work, but no open mandibles. i punch the floor so hard the loom deactivates

another day guarding Mars’ panoply. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the Banner of the Conqueror. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it

IF THE DELIBERATIVE BANS ME FROM HOLLERING AT YOZI I WILL FACE SOL INVICTUS AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO THE VOID

“auditing isn’t real” i assure myself as i break the constellation of the mask with my shitty astrology 

the blue thumbtacks on this map indicate concentrations of high lunar essence, the red ones are all the teahouses ive been banned from

“This Whole Thing Smacks Of Excess,” i holler as i overturn the Deliberative’s barbeque grill and turn the 4th of Calibration into 4th of Shit

Food 200 obols
Bribes 150 obols
Rent 800 obols
Teacups 3,600 talents
Utility 150 obols

someone who is good at the bureaucracy please help me budget this. my division is dying

THE MAGISTRATE GROWLS “TAKE OFF TH AT ARMOR, ANATHEMA.” I COMPLY, REVEALING FULL LENGTH MOONSILVER TATTOOS ON BOTH LEGS. THE MAGISTRATE SCREAMS; DEFEATED

mean while, while you were “Exalting ”, i summoned 100 different demons in a cave behind a waterfall and cried into a thaumaturge’s arms