Posted on a throwaway in hopes of anonymity. And the privacy of our stories hero.

Our fighter/barbarian has no issues doing what it takes to win a fight.

Dive into frigid waters and wrestle some troglodytes? Sure!

Hit an orc cheiftan below the belt! Just try and stop him!

But he "suffers" from 1 weakness

We learned he grew up an orphan and survived on the scraps he could find to get by.

Because of this, he developed a soft spot for those who couldn't help themselves.

Especially the poor and the young.

Our dm decided to test this. And upon our party entering a town sieged by raiders the day before.

We found a collection of newly made orphans taking shelter in the ruins of a church of bahamut

The kids were abandoned by the city. It's inhabitants too concerned with their own losses to hold any sympathy for them the poor things.

The cleric healed their wounds, and the druid(me) fed them with good berry.

The orphans thanked us for our kindness. We offered to let them travel with us until we could find a safe place for them.

However, they told us They were afraid to venture outside the city walls. After seeing what came from behind them(the raiders)

And what they really wanted to do was travel via ship to the neighboring city across the ocean and join its temple as it seemed a much better option than remaining where they were.

We agreed to help them find a ship and secure passage.

Only to find out that the only ship's captain around was a crook himself and demanded 100 gold per child.

Unfortunately, two sessions ago, we spent the majority of our money buying supplies and items.

And between all of us, We had about 240 gold total. Roughly 400 gold short.

Our fighter decided to barter with the captain and offered his great sword in trade.

After Rolling a natural 20 on the persuasion roll the the captain became so overcome with fighters' generosity that he ferried the children for 100 gold total.

After a short pause, the dm remarked that he expected the fighter to strong arm the captain, not barter. And asked why he chanced losing his very expensive weapon for a bunch of nameless npc's?

Fighter just smirked and said that line we all love to hear.

"It's what my character would do,"

We later found out that every one of those kids went on to become paladins and clerics.

And upon ending the campaign, and allowing all of us to choose how we wanted to wrap things up.

Fighter decided to seek out those kids.

They remembered him expressed their gratitude to him for taking pity on a bunch of orphans. When no one else would even look at them.

He told them.

"But you're not orphans. You became my children that day. It's me who should be thanking you. For giving me the family i never had"

It's at this point that i want to point out just why this hit DM and myself as hard as it did.

Fighter didn't just play an orphan. He lived it. His real story wasn't that far off his character.

You may be wondering why i'm telling this story and not him?

Well, other than the fact, he was always too humble to ever take any credit for anything.

20 years ago. He adopted DM and myself. It's thanks to him we were able to stay together. And have the life we did. I'll always be grateful to him for his kindness.

A true hero if there ever was one.

we lost him very recently, and finally writing this out has been a small form of therapy to me.

If you've made it this far. Thank you for reading. And dont forget.

It's not blood alone that makes you family. All that matters. Is love.

I've begun DMing a survival-horror campaign for my pseudo-adopted younger sister and a friend of mine who's learning D&D 5.5e. It's been going well, and started out with a powerful homage to my fallen friend.

We began with my newbie friend's character, an Owlin named Velra who always felt unlike everyone around her - what with having been raised an orphan in a Halfling village. Their hospitality and warmth became a bit stifling when no-one could answer her questions about what she was and where she'd come from. One fateful night, her feelings of isolation and distance drew in the Mists. She flew, screamed, cried, and fought for hours to return home, trauma and fear teaching her how to navigate the Mists, and granting her the Mist Walker Dark Gift Feat. Years later, her desires to search for information about her family pushed her to brave the one place she knew was mysterious enough to potentially have answers, and she delved deeper into the Mists than ever before.

Her wandering brought her to my sister's character, a Human Artificer named Alice, trapped in a demiplane-like miniature Domain of Dread, constructed by her grief for her professor's untimely death. Professor Theodore Gower, my late friend's character she interacted with, was lost in the collapsing ruins of an ancient tomb that otherwise should have remained stable. Alice, consumed with panic and grief, has been pouring over the notes Professor Gower left her, desperately looking for some way to fix this situation. Her feelings of not being able to her professor's legacy, despite being his star pupil and best research assistant, keeping her paralyzed with panic and indecision.
Velra manages to get her attention and calm her enough to review the notes with a more critical eye, finding a Scroll of Calm Emotions tucked away within. Professor Gower always said Fear is the Mind-Killer. As the calming effects of the scroll washed over her, Alice heard Theodore's voice one last time, telling her his research was hers to continue now, if she so wished, and that he was proud of her for how far she'd come (When I did this part, I managed to duplicate the character's accent well enough that my sister did tear up a bit. She appreciated that little bit of closure.). The two then left the crumbling ruins, finally clear-headed enough to see the exit.

The Mists then carried them off to the Domain of my character, an undying Orc named Brick. He sat alone in fields of wheat that never reached harvest, in perpetual dusk. He turned towards them and simply slumped forward, disintegrating to ash, his dust carrying on the winds across the fields. Time passed. Minutes? Hours? Days? It was impossible to tell, but then Brick emerged from the old farmhouse on the small crest overlooking the fields and began watering the crops, alive once more. His grief for his wife - and the woman who first reanimated him to be her guardian - Mortar, has kept him trapped. He was always meant to be her Revenant Protector, her unstoppable shield. But when he lost her, he remained. And he lost his purpose along with his wife. The farm they retired to for raising their children became his waking nightmare, and he questioned if he even deserved to exist now that she was gone. Mortar was another of my late friend's characters, and the one I played with the most. She was a Kobold Wild Magic Sorcerer with Necromancy spells and Alchemical training. I'd played a story previously where Mortar was dead and Brick persisted, my friend played that game with me. So I had a bit more time to identify with the grief of my character than the other players in my group, and I like to think that's why I can now feel that grief without it breaking me.
Alice spoke with Brick for probably hours, but time was an illusion here. By the end of it, she convinced him that whatever he was now, he still had a mission: To keep trying to make the world a better place for the Windglass clan of Kobolds that he and Mortar sired years ago.

With a purpose, Brick joined Alice and Velra and the three ventured forth into the Mists, being deposited before the Burnt Cottage in the heart of Falkovnia, just as its borders closed and began to moan with the hunger of the dead.

Hi, all! What follows is very much a “better late than never” sort of post.

My late first wife, Calico (borrowing the name of one of her favorite PCs), has been gone well over a decade now. Best damned DM I ever played under. Calico cut her teeth on 1E (as did I), and we met at the gaming table in the days of 2E. She passed away from cancer while WotC still had 4E in playtest. When she was behind the screen, it was homebrew or bust, and I’d pit her campaign world of Nahbourn against a published setting any day of the week. Here’s some highlights!

Navamar, the Creator God, was the very antithesis of “all knowing and all wise”. The Dragon (his “true” form) was an incorrigible tinkerer, subjecting the world to a series of trial-and-error experiments in a perpetual effort to make the place more robust, varied, and happy. A race becomes irredeemably corrupt and debased? Wipe it out and try again…and again…and again. Created the rest of the pantheon to (A) delegate authority and (B) provide divine embodiments of right and wrong to serve as role models. He even experimented on himself—placing his essence in the body of a dying child, Navamar became at once Creator and Created, gaining an invaluable insight into mortal hopes and fears.

Nahbourn was the only setting I’ve ever heard of with centaurs, wemics, and eight (!) distinct species of lycanthropes as PC races. Within the setting, these beings were just another person on the street, no different from an elf or dwarf. All ten races were created 7000 years ago as the servants and soldiers of the Great Mages, and when these beings sealed themselves away, Navamar allowed them to make their own places in the wider society. Great concept—but unfortunately, Calico wasn’t too fond of the drudgery of game mechanics. So it was up to Yours Truly to do all the grunt work, using the 3.5E splatbook Savage Species as a template.

​

• Werebears: hard-working and fun-loving, bears thrive in any trade that requires strength and stamina—masonry, fishing, lumberjacking, etc. Bears are expert armorers and weaponsmiths. Not the deepest of thinkers, and impatient with bureaucracy. Noted for their drunken revelries at holiday time. Superb rank-and-file infantry.
• Weretigers: an all-female race, intoxicating in their human form, where even the most "homely" will still turn heads. Tigers seek the finest in life for themselves and their children, unjustly derided as golddiggers by the jealous. Maternal instincts border on the deranged should danger threaten. Have a racial knack for the fine arts, especially in music, painting, and sculpture. As soldiers, tigers are excellent front-line officers.
• Wereravens: curious, intelligent, and deft of hand, ravens are gregarious people-persons. Excellent hoteliers, popular entertainers, and master artisans in jewelry and gems. Not militant by nature, ravens shy from violence.
• Werehounds: the most humanlike of the lycanthropes, though they do have a mild pack mentality. Fond of simple lifestyles with a touch of personal comfort (think Tolkien’s hobbits). Industrious, but rarely driven by ambition. Like bears, they prefer to serve in the ranks.
• Werestags: this all-male race is intensely private, preferring to live in the wilds whenever possible. Will wander into remote villages only to produce offspring with a willing, unmarried woman. (Don't fret, Dear Reader, this is a long-accepted fact of life, so there is no dishonor to anyone involved. And no, stags do NOT stoop to assault; their masculine charm and innate decency sees to that.) Stags are excellent hunters, trackers, and guides.
• Werewolves: the most misunderstood of all lycanthropes. Aloof by temperament and insular by cultural habit, the pack mentality remains very strong. Conversely, they have a powerful sense of civic duty backed by a keen intelligence and strong inner discipline, leading many into law, finance, and government service. As soldiers, they form terrifying shock troops and infiltrators behind enemy lines.
• Werefalcons: one of two elven-based lycanthropes. Falcons are “natural aristocrats”, with a proud and noble bearing. That said, they hold arrogance in contempt, and are honorable almost to a fault. Arguably the most intelligent and ambitious of all lycanthropes, falcons tend to excel at anything they set their minds to. As soldiers, they make natural officers, and more than a few rise to become commanding generals.
• Werelynxes: the other elven-based lycanthrope, often cursed and derided by the rest of the world. It seems that the Great Mage who created them was a truly vile individual, and her taint affected her greatest creation. Lynxes are all too attracted to dissolute, even criminal lifestyles, made all the worse by their conniving, bullying, and selfish natures.

All lycanthropic races have three forms: human/elven, human/animal hybrid, and full animal.

We were playtesting these “races as classes” when Calico got sick. The campaign was never finished.

After she passed, I continued to DM for awhile, even wrapping up a campaign with a vision of Calico's PC and her panther familiar in the service of the Gods, my way of saying farewell. But after that, my heart wasn't in it. I walked away from TTRPGs entirely.

But with the passage of years, I healed and found my inspiration again. As of this writing, I've formed a new group, with Calico's niece and her husband (one of my players from way back) and am having fun again.

Thanks for staying with me this long.

William Helmbacher played a wizard in the games that I ran. His character, Billius Maximus, was a “Republican War Wizard,” who had a preponderance to get the spells magic missile and fireball, and was at a ten out of ten on audible levels, when a five would suffice. He played with panache, and would always be willing to have a Plank Road Beer after a game. Icehouse was probably his favorite beer, it was heavier than most Annheuser-Busch products available in the late 1990’s.

He was a lot of fun to have as a friend, and he opened his apartment to people between homes. He was a fresh lawyer for his firm when he was found murdered. It was devastating to us when that happened. Worse, the former game-stop owner ended up in Bill’s last residence, and parts of Bill were embedded in the thick carpet. Which did make it nice to yell at Bill, you pull the throw rug back, and yell at Bill’s probable brain matter like he would bellow at you.

Billius Maximus has never been retired in any of my games. Role-playing as him in my games offered many of us a chance to say goodbye to him. He always offers a collection of bottle caps, the complete Revised Set of some card game, and for wizards who shun evocation, endless berating. Billius will allow evokers to scribe the various alternative evocation spells found in Hackmaster 4E, a game that he would have bribed me to run.

Rest In Peace, Bill. We miss you.

Hi, i love the idea of this sub💜 And sorry, for my english it isn't my first language btw😅

Galder was a Quest Giver in my first oneshot and the players liked him and his grumpy intern Summer. He gave the players few cookies and all the paperwork they need to ask a few questions about a cult (it wasn't that deep cause first time dm, but my Players liked it).

In my current campaign my Players haven't met Relcar yet, but he has retired from adventuring, but is still sort of a leader/fatherfigure for many young adventurers, he works now for the Adventure Guild, helping younger adventurers. I thought of not letting him speak common, cause no tongue (atleast I thing Thri Keen don't have a tongue😅) and give him a cool parrot to translate things.

I'll always remember having "that" moment, when you realize everything that TTRPG's (pathfinder in this case) have to offer.

I was playing a Tengu Gunslinger in the first long term campaign I had ever played in. I had played in an odd game or two, but I was the DM in my other group. Well, we were doing a pirate campaign, and had some down time on a voyage. Our DM, call him R, described us sitting in the mess hall of our ship. Some event had just happened with player 3. So it was just my Tengu and player 2 eating, surrounded by NPCs.

R finished the description and asked, "What do you do?"

I remember player 2 giving me first choice, as it was my first time with this group, in a new kind of campaign. I said something like, "I don't know, what can I do?" And R got pissed.

What followed was a mini rant from R, talking about how he made over 100 NPCs with personalities and quests and backstories and how I have the audacity to ask that. That was when it clicked.

I already loved TTRPGs. I was 3 or so years I to running my on and off homebrew game, but this was my ratatouille moment. When the fireworks went off in my head and I realized I could do anything I wanted.

From that moment foreward, I made it my goal to befriend all my favorite NPCs. To find the weird and wild folks who would make for great stories and encounters.

That led me to meet Ippy Bippy. The funny merchant who, once we were friends, we were the best friends. Or else I'd join her band of skeletons with instruments. My PC got married to her best bud, and suddenly Ippy was so, so much scarier.

Or when I rolled a 1, then 2, then 1 to cross a tight rope, before the heist even started. I fucked literally everyone but maybe 2 of the like 12 folks involved in the heist. Nearly killed our mage (and made a mortal enemy) when I tried to steal an item in the vault as she finished the teleportarion spell with our bounty. Her silver teeth were suddenly permanent as I barely rolled high enough to prevent us from dying.

To when my PC was so utterly terrified of another PC that she planned to kill the other PC. Then, when the other PC left the party, preventing the fight, only to return to the ship and kill the first mate/pull some terrifying shit.

I'm rambling. R was the best DM I've ever had. Probably the best DM I ever will have. 4 years ago tonight he decided ended things. And now I have the memories of this incredible game. And the few times we all went out drinking together. The after game chats.

Damn. I'm glad for the memories. I'm pouring one out for R tonight. Dude was spectacular.

Hi, all!

I originally posted about my late first wife/player/DM back in August of 2022; the link below describes her skills as a DM and world designer:

https://www.reddit.com/r/AdventuresOfGalder/comments/wgel5a/some_happy_memories_of_my_late_wife_gone_these/

But there’s something I’ve always wanted to share, but have been very hesitant. It’s about one Arondel Sakarev, a PC denizen of her world and one of the most intriguing, challenging, and downright difficult characters I’ve run in four decades of gaming. Playing Arondel was like walking a tightrope that never ended, for reasons that will become painfully clear. And all because of his class: a Magus of Navamar (i.e., a magepriest of The Dragon/Creator God).

Disclaimer: what follows was a feasibility study for a class concept Calico!DM knew had the potential of becoming a land mine that could blow the legs off a tarrasque. She chose me as the playtester/guinea pig to see if it could work at all. We agreed that this would be a collaborative design effort, and that she could unilaterally pull the plug at any time.

I’ve described Navamar at some length in the above post (if you want to check it out first, I’ll wait). In-setting, the need of the Magus was a consequence of the rise of the Dark Gods whose clerics were, by definition, multiclassed cleric/wizards. And when your rats are this powerful out of the gate, you need some really badass cats to deal with them if and when they ignore the boundaries Navamar has set for them. Enter the Magus, whose overall mission is to help Navamar run Creation the way he wants it run. A tall order indeed.

In terms of game mechanics, the Magus were inspired by the Mystic Theurge prestige class presented in the 3.5 DMG. The basic idea is that for every level of Magus gained, your caster level as a cleric and wizard rose accordingly, to a maximum of 10 character levels. On the surface, this isn’t necessarily a problem. The real sticking point is the place of the Magus in society.

And that place is at the very top.

When you enter the throne room, kings and emperors may well bow to you. A word from you can countermand orders given by the High Priest of any lesser god (though you'd need a damned good reason to be sticking your nose in). Common folk look upon you with varying degrees of awe. And the slightest hint of real anger is enough to send proud and haughty men running for the hills—at least, those with the sense to know their place.

And then there’s the perks…

• Your familiar is a sentient magical beast resembling a large horse (some as big as Clydesdales) who pretend to be horses. A specimen entering adulthood has 4 levels of sorcerer, and grow in power as they age. (Arondel came to the conclusion that Navamar provided these creatures to keep the Magus humble…)
• Their magical weapons are sentient, inhabited by the souls of devoted followers of Navamar millennia dead.
• Even if you’re destitute, you’ll never lack for a warm bed and a hot meal so long as the Holiest of Symbols (a bejeweled adamantine pendant) is dangling from your neck.

But be warned—there’s some nasty downsides.

First off, there’s the moment of ascension to the office. Navamar finds a suitable candidate, watches them for years, and when the time is right, taps you on the shoulder and says, “Hi there! I’m the Creator of the Cosmos, and I have a proposition for you…” It’s the form that tap takes that sucks, since it’s often an especially violent event coupled with extreme emotional stress. In Arondel’s case, it was seeing one of these sentient "horses" mentioned earlier cut down by a dark priest, unable to do a thing. He cried out for help, and Navamar had the totally untrained Arondel channel a cure critical wounds. The mage was rendered unconscious by the effort.

Then there’s the issue of actually doing the job. Navamar can be a very talons-on manager, and having him in your head at any time, day or night, asleep or awake, would test the sanity of any mortal being. And don’t think for a moment that you can deviate in the slightest from the lawful good alignment required of all Magus. The ethical and behavioral standards of the class are uncompromising and relentless—throw your weight around, and you will feel the Dragon's wrath.

As for the Dragon’s idea of on-the-job training…in your dreams, you are introduced one at a time to the entire pantheon—including the Dark Gods. And Navamar withdraws, leaving you to face the god alone (but always watching to make sure that things don’t get out of hand). And as you go through the process, you realize the dangers of forgetting your place, given that you and the Lesser Gods answer directly to the same boss. (Not to mention the fact that the Dark Gods are personally sizing you up / testing you / tempting you to your face…)

Once in the field, a Magus also had his obligations. As Arondel himself put it: “I must not allow myself to fear—or to hate—anything Father allows to exist in his world.” That includes the Dark Gods and their worldly servants. To fulfill the office, you may have to visit the lairs of the corrupt, sitting down to dinner with some of the most debased individuals around, alive and undead.

Lastly, there’s the fact that the talent pool is exceedingly small. The Creator had to strain to find 200 worthy candidates in an entire continent over the course of decades. This also means your comrades are few and far between, so there’s no guarantee you’ll have a peer nearby in whom you can confide and share the burden.

Calico!DM was aware of the stresses a Magus would be subjected to; indeed, there was one NPC Magus whose mind began to crack under the pressure. More insightful Magus came up with an effective pressure valve: irreverence, aimed at Navamar himself. The Creator found a certain relief in these often comical outbursts; far better this than having his beloved servants crumble under the weight of their office.

Now…how did Arondel (and his player) deal with all this? Let’s be real—in the hands of the wrong player, this prestige class is just begging to be abused.

When he came to after channeling that cure critical wounds? Here he was, a mere Wizard 3/Magus 1, a newly recruited beat cop in service of the Creator—in other words, a crapton of responsibility and absolutely no idea of how to comport himself in public, much less assume his duties. Arondel’s response was to conceal his new office, revealing himself gradually—first to the party, then to select NPCs, one at a time and under the strictest confidence. It took game months and another Magus level before Arondel felt secure enough to reveal himself publicly. Luckily, Arondel had the wits to ask the Creator for role models; he provided a short list of NPCs (and PCs from the prior campaign)—heroes of the Godswar, beloved of the people for their innate nobility and graciousness.

Not long after becoming Magus, I (the player, not Arondel) realized that the class had a built-in booby trap; unintended, but there nonetheless. Sure, he was one of Navamar's chosen--but he was still only a PC with four character levels. And below average combat prowess. And no armor. Which meant that I was, in the short term, nearly as vulnerable as a wizard of equal level. Yet another reason to delay making his ascension public knowledge.

I mentioned the audiences with the Lesser Gods that are part of a Magus’ training. As Arondel began his, he was insecure and overwhelmed. At one point early on, he blurted out, “You can’t fool me! The only reason you created the World is that you needed a place to sit.” Calico!DM almost fell out of her chair—and ruled that Navamar did too, laughing so hard that loose scales fell from his draconic form. Part of that irreverence I mentioned.

And how does a Magus fit in as a party member? Arondel made it work by not pulling rank. Ever. These people were his friends and comrades when he was just a nobody on the run, and nothing would get in the way of that. When he could serve the party best by acting on his own, he always asked permission. “You’ve never let us down yet,” the fighter once said, and I did my best to keep it that way. And in combat, I’d let everyone know when I was low on spells, demonstrating that my powers did indeed have limits.

Lastly, I decided that Arondel needed something to help keep him grounded aside from his oft-snarky familiar. As a professionally trained musician, Arondel was determined to become a Master Guildsman on his own merits, no matter how long it took—an achievement all his own.

There’s more, but it would make Arondel look like an even bigger munchkin than he already does, so I’ll stop here. As for Calico!DM, she was debating whether to allow this prestige class in the future when she got sick for the last time. So Arondel the PC will always stand alone, for good or ill. And it makes me sad to think about it—no one else will ever have the fun (and occasional frustration) of trying to play a Magus well.

Link to my original post:

https://www.reddit.com/r/AdventuresOfGalder/comments/wgel5a/some_happy_memories_of_my_late_wife_gone_these/

Hi, all! Thanks so much for your kind words and thoughts.

Been going through my records, and thought I’d share some of Calico/Player’s PC exploits in my homebrew setting. It was a bittersweet read, as you might imagine.

Rilka Turgin (Human Fighter/Knight, LG): [Note: paladins do not exist in my setting. Knights of the Holy Orders are my homebrew replacement.]

Rilka was Calico/Player’s first PC at my table, and her all-time favorite (and mine, I daresay); Calico/Player would play Rilka off and on for nine years.

She began as an ordinary fighter, the daughter of a minor noble house who, because of her unusual height, strength, and contrary attitudes, made her a poor marriage prospect and even worse “noblelady” (imagine GoT’s Brienne of Tarth, but actually attractive). The PC was introduced mid-campaign, saved from certain death by two sentient Rats who brought the unconscious Rilka to their home—a vast underground library, its volumes literally priceless. The library’s guardian dragon, however, was rather nonplused: “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill her.” Seems that the library is a carefully guarded secret, and the Rats broke the rules in bringing Rilka there…

Here is where Calico/Player began to shine: she thoroughly engaged these NPC Rats, treating them seriously and becoming increasingly fond of their community and welfare. It’s as if she never had a DM willing to indulge her desire to RP with any depth (an accurate assumption as it turned out), and was enjoying this immensely. She was invested in my setting, and it spurred me to greater achievements as DM just to keep up with her.

Another facet of her dedicated play style was her copious in-game correspondence (which I’ve carefully preserved). The letters from Rilka to various NPCs was a two-way street, and both their contents and in-game repercussions helped drive the campaign narrative. I wish some of my players over the years would have showed even a fraction of her engagement and immersion.

Her transformation from fighter to Knight was some of the best roleplay I’ve ever seen. Calico/Player had Rilka become increasingly uncertain about life and her place in the world, her behavior turning careless and erratic, a true lost soul. But help was coming: when Rilka ran recklessly into a sacred chamber designed for communion with the divine, the goddess of mercy and justice led her by the hand back to the party, her gentle and loving rebuke ringing in Rilka’s heart.

Sensing a path before her, Rilka sought guidance from the clerics among the Rats, who encouraged her. It took a couple of levels, but Rilka went from Knight’s Candidate to Knight with a clear sense of purpose…far beyond the “I’ll take a level of X for the cool class abilities” that I can’t abide. The transition was gradual and believable.

After the main campaign ended, Rilka returned for a side quest which began with a startling admission from one of the Rats. It seems this individual was cursed, and can only have romantic feelings for humans. And Rilka’s response? A quest to make the relationship work…somehow. Thus begins a wild ride across continents and even planes of existence to gather the elemental essences that will create a human body for the Rat’s soul to reside. But as it turned out, the soul was split between the Rat and new human body, allowing both to continue their lives as independent entities with their own destinies.

Catherine “Calico” Beemish (Human Rogue): Calico’s backstory describes the quintessential rogue: street urchin to brothel owner to guild thief to carnival performer. But something deep inside wanted some semblance of “respectability”—but on her terms. Of course.

Her adventuring career began with a solo raid on the local military garrison—not for espionage or sabotage, but merely to make off with the regimental colors. Next day, bold as brass, she approached the front gate with the flag and asked to see the CO. Instead of arresting her, he put her on the payroll as a local informant. Thus began a wild and woolly career.

Through a chance encounter, Calico found that some of the odd-duck locals were actually shipwreck survivors from another continent! Calico was the driving force behind finding a ship stout enough (and a crew insane enough) to take the expatriates home. Unfortunately for her, one of the exiles was a sentient longsword with an icy military mindset—their long-running spat was epic. This was offset by her attraction to a religious knight also on board; no man had ever played hard-to-get so smoothly, and Calico was smitten.

Party sails into an alien continent wracked by a war to restore an ancient Empire: one side is led by the last surviving Imperial heir, the other by the BBEG manipulating his puppets from the shadows. The BBEG decides to hold a fake coronation with a fake Imperial Sword, hoping to win through deceit. Calico & Co. turn the tables by replacing the fake sword with the REAL one, right under the BBEG’s nose—and when the false coronation takes place, the True Sword exacts its vengeance while the Heir’s finest warriors—and the party—rush in for the kill.

From street trash to Hero of the Second Empire. And now that she’s gone respectable on her own terms, Calico got her man. Not too shabby.

Martithe “Marti” Drackeve (Human Cleric, LG): Let’s face it…adventuring with Martithe is like adventuring with your monster-cleaving, spell-slinging, cookie-baking grandma. Clearly on the pudgy side, she enjoys nothing more than a good meal, preferably one she made herself.

A cleric of the god of enlightenment, her calling as an adventurer found her in Session 1, when two less-than-upstanding citizens (fellow PCs) run past her on the road: “You thought no one would notice your snake-oil sludge poisoning half the town?” “Says the guy who was screwing around with the mayor’s daughter!” Astride her noble steed donkey, “Marti” decides then and there to follow the miscreants, to gather info for a treatise on criminal behavior. And a cookbook. Naturally.

Possessing a stellar Wisdom, solid Charisma, and slightly below average Intelligence, Martithe relies on her matronly ways and winning smile to get by in life. Her aura of cheerful domesticity was truly remarkable—at one point, she was able to charm no less a being than the Prince of Liches. [A lich in my world is, by definition, a cleric of the Overlord of the Dark Gods.] The two came to a startling agreement: if Marti would allow the lich to see the living world through her eyes (satisfying the undead’s bizarre wanderlust), he would allow her to write his biography (Interview With the Lich?) From time to time, Martithe would actually cast two shadows…

I created a rival adventuring group of NPCs for this campaign. At times they’d compete, and other times they’d be forced by circumstance to cooperate. In the latter, Martithe would cook for both teams—a godsend to the NPCs, who collectively could barely manage to boil water. When separated, each team had a magic hand mirror to check in on each other: at one point, one of the NPCs held up an incinerated duck and wrote “Martithe, save us!” on a slate board.

One last tale…party found themselves in a walk-in freezer, full of unbutchered carcasses. A solid gold cleaver is on the chopping block—and the party illusionist tries to steal it. The carcasses, highly indignant, hop off the meat hooks and attack! Not a target for the moment, Marti goes “Here, piggie, piggie, piggie…” “Oooh, bake me, baste me, broil me!” the animated carcass shoots back…

Mercedes Valax (Human Cleric, LN): Calico/Player does a total 180 with this PC. Mercedes is a cleric of the god of law and civilization, and Licensed to Litigate—as a practicing attorney. Mercedes is also an assassin/”cleaner” in service to her Order (a ruthless form of internal affairs)—a fact known only to her handler and her Head of Order. Mercedes herself is a no-nonsense, tough-as-nails persona who once cut down two armored dwarves in nothing but her nightclothes. But she wasn’t heartless: the loss of the party’s beloved dire wolf in combat affected her deeply—to the point where her superior told her point-blank to keep her grief out of public view.

Now, why would someone like this take to the road as an adventurer? In the early going, it was to pay for repairs on “the House”—a sentient piece of real estate that’s chosen the party as its rightful occupants. Abandoned for decades, the place really needs some work, and it’s gonna cost a fortune. The House itself hardly helps at times, squealing with delight with each new renovation (imagine the following in a sing-song tone): “I’m gonna get a new roof, new roof, new roof!..” But believe me—there are treasures (and secrets) in this talking manor house that any D&D party would kill to protect…

Rhanee Khardas (Human Wizard): The scion of a military family, Rhanee gave her arcane skills to her country as an intelligence operative. Rhanee comes from a clime identical to the Indian subcontinent, and has an appearance to match. Her familiar is equally striking: a full grown male leopard named Jaaduu.

In the course of the game, Jaaduu was struck down with a lethal curse borne of divine Chaos. The cat suffocated, convulsed, and lay still…but as Rhanee stood frozen in horror, Jaaduu turned black as freshly mined coal, twitched, stretched, sat up, and stared. “What are you looking at?” the familiar said aloud.

The sudden sentience of her familiar injected new life into Rhanee’s character (which was unusually subdued for Calico/Player). The banter between the two became a highlight of the campaign, and at an appropriate moment (and for valid in-game reasons), the cat became a cleric of the (LG) god of magic.

This was the campaign I was running when Calico/Player became sick, one that I understandably suspended in her final months. After she passed, I wrapped up the campaign; in the final session, the party was granted a divine vision of Rhanee and Jaaduu, now in service to the god of righteous wrath. It was best I could come up with for saying goodbye to Calico as a gamer.

My best friend and cousin Raphael was my first DM and made me fall in love with DnD. He made a game session for me and my sister in a world that we call Tormenta here in Brazil. I was a ranger with a lot of luck in my rolls and my sister was a monk that died very soon and was replaced by a thief (suited more her personality). My cousin was hard in his adventures, but we were very creative in our solutions, although I think he always left a small way out, so we won’t lose faith. I remember him telling a story about when he started playing and he was a half orc barbarian named Mc Lorian. He believed in the god of death and was dumb as a rock. In one of his adventures they needed to rescue some villagers and after a gruesome battle they found out where they were. As the group was battling their way out they shouted to the barbarian: McLorian! Free the villagers! I must say that for a servant of the God of Death, the ultimate freedom is death itself. And for someone as stupid as McLorian the request was clear. With a powerful scream McLorian whirls his axe and proceeds to slaughter all the prisioners shouting: McLorian frees!

McLorian has multiple tales of this kind and I’ll find a way to share them all. My cousin was huge and strong, with a powerful beard that resembled McLorian, but was very smart and really kind. Because of him my sister is an incredible DM today. And he also was the only person in my family to support my decision to leave my terrible job and pursue an art career. I believe he would smile if he knew I’m currently drawing DnD characters and monsters. Although I still can’t draw him without getting emotional. Thank you Raphael and thank you Mclorian.

So... first off, a little backstory. Two years ago, u/SomeHairyGuy made his post about Galder and asking us to write him into our worlds. I did, of course, and even made the suggestion for this subreddit. But, life happens and I never really checked back in on the situation of the subreddit. Recently it was brought to my attention that it was indeed created and I was asked to share some of my stories that have transpired with Galder.

Galder has become a... “Gandalf” character of sorts for my world. He’s the guiding light that helps push the party along when they get stuck and offers some assistance when things look grim. He has been a rather large staple character in many ideas. However, out of everything I have planned for him, and everything I have done with him, the most memorable has to be the first time I ever introduced him to a group of players.

One of the characters, a Human Barbarian, woke up during the night to use the tree, as he had downed a rather impressive amount of alcohol the day before and this is what I described to him:

“A stranger has made himself comfortable next to your campfire. He appears to be an older man, human by the looks of him and very well-traveled. His beard, while a bit scraggly, is still trimmed to form, barely passing his chin. He sits cross-legged on a rug, his hands outstretched, warming them by the flame. His robes are surprisingly clean, though mundane in detail; common black cotton with what appears to be white fur lining the collar. He looks to be slightly lost in his thoughts as he doesn’t notice you exiting the tent for your nightly relief.”

The player, being one for understanding combat isn’t always the solution, despite playing a Barbarian, sat down across from Galder and cleared his throat, alerting the stranger to his presence. Galder introduced himself and told the character that he was wandering the world, having recently arrived. He explained that he periodically travels dimensions, seeking out new experiences to fill his book, which he carries around on his back, ever-growing with stories and locations. He said that he saw the fire and couldn’t resist the chance to warm himself as the cold air crept into his bones quickly.

The in-game time was about four hours in passing, however, in real life, it was about six. Eventually, all of the party had woken up, either from the noise of the Barbarian and Galder talking or for some unrelated reason, and ended up joining the circle around the fire. The players were captivated by Galder as it was the first time I had brought forth an NPC that wasn't simply a Quest Giver or other cliched role. And it gave me the opportunity to test out a new form of storytelling and group discussion.

The players all began recounting their own tales, embellishing a little but were genuinely having fun remembering the things that had happened during the game's sessions. All the while, I described as Galder wrote them down for future reference and preservation. After they had finished, he told them of some wonderful locations he had visited and the people he had met, treasures discovered and lost, entire unknown regions of the world/universe. It was the first time any of my players actually took notes and wrote down possible clues and points of interest.

When the dawn crept upon them, the party awoke in their tents, as if they had never left them, and Galder was nowhere to be found. However, a single parchment paper was left pinned to the log where he had sat that read “I am so very glad to have met you, adventurers. I do hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of setting back time so that you could finish your sleep and be rested for the trials that lie ahead. I do hope we meet again someday. I am traveling to the city of Galencia from here, where I hear tell of a massive library. If you should happen along the way, please come say hello.”

Tl;dr I ran a fantastic session for players while filling in for another DM without interrupting his campaign’s story, and while I can’t quite articulate why I felt I did so well, it was cool how I incorporated Rorka.

Not a super interesting recap but here goes:

The party came upon an abandoned tent in the desert on that same plateau. After one member struggled to put up the tent (low survival role in spite of help-advantage) another party member managed to find the tracks of a creature. Some intelligence based checks and magic detection revealed that the tracks belonged to a Quasit. The Quasit was pretending to be a Quickling in desperate need of help. But when the party spoke to it in infernal, it openly spoke to the party of aiding Tiamat and wanting her to win and hoping to get the party’s help with fooling more creatures in the desert.

** The quasit** who, in spite of claiming to have never met the group before, was theorized to be the devil form of a Beholder who was killed by the party earlier in the campaign. When detect thoughts was used, it was clear the quasit had their memory modified. When asked to describe a lackey of Tiamat the quasit described them just accurately enough despite insisting that all humanoids look the same to it. It was all improv on my part. I did the prep for the session but I roleplayed well enough that the party was hooked and kept on guessing. Totally lucky break too.

The party deliberated but I honestly didn’t intend for the Quasit to be that specific Beholder npc even though I did prep very carefully by reading the log before the game. The roleplaying just allowed for the party to naturally make the conclusion and I committed to it just enough with improv that modify memory means it could be either/or.

The quasit led them to a canyon with a Necrobolisk (intended for an encounter but not used for that) and a Dwarven Forgemaster. She was hammering, working on a magic pickaxe to destroy the necrobolisk (I figured that out improvising after the fact). A time-stop spell was cast and Rorka’s runic hammer was taken from her by some unseen spellcaster. \plot point?**

+Rorka the Dwarven Forgemaster based off of Rorka the Barbarian, another tribute player character I include in my games. The quasit moved stealthily to ambush Rorka and I gave the party opportunities to act but they actively chose to be passive at first. The quasit landed a nasty hit which Rorka managed to resist most of the poison effect.

Warlock player cast speak with dead, and was able to ask 5 questions, but the Necrobolisk altered the way necrotic magic worked so he heard many different voices clamoring speaking about Rorka. Most were positive urging him to aid her, one was a scoundrel who had been slain by Rorka, and 5 voices were Tiamat’s heads rooting for Rorka to die. It was learned that Rorka was one of the heroes who helped to banish Tiamat many centuries ago.

The party acted at that point to help Rorka, using mage hand, healing word, and forcecage so Rorka could pull a badass forgemaster moment to strike a tasty hit on the quasit. The player who cast forcecage had his character ask Rorka if she was alright with it and she gave the thumbs-up.

After capturing the quasit in the tent, the party spoke with Rorka on good terms. They developed some theories about the room they started in, possibly linking the amulet and other various plot points all together. Rorka was humble but with detect thoughts, they could tell she just wanted to help the party with defeating Tiamat but was in no position to do so at this time. The Necrobolisk might be used to raise Dracolich but not if Rorka can stop it.

Great session even though the only real challenge was a CR1 Quasit.

My D&D group takes forever to coordinate our schedules, getting maybe 5-6 sessions per year, at the most, so it's taken ages to finally get Galder to pop up properly in our adventure.

Ever since this sub started, I've been adding small references to Galder, and making others like Sah Kajul and Terminatur show up around the world, but I knew that I wanted Galder's reveal to be big, probably revealing the final goal of the entire campaign.

So, for the past year or so, my players have been chasing down some odd pieces of a shattered sapphire orb, each with an engraving of a mysterious symbol, and a fragment of some prophetic text on it. Finally, last session, they found the final piece. After banishing a beholder (did you know those don't have legendary resistances?), the party collected all their equipment, which the beholder had taken from them, along with some extra items, including the final piece of the shattered sphere.

They still had to contend with the beholder's minions who would be back any second, and their final spell slot had just been used on the banishment, so they decided to connect all the pieces, hoping for something dramatic. Dramatic is what they got.

The sphere glued itself back together and started spinning and humming in the air, letting out blue pulses. Just as this was happening, the minions of the beholder got back, and started flying over to catch them. The PCs tried to use a spell from a magic item, blocking the path of the minions, but they got their first experience fighting a mage with counterspell, and their magic item fizzled.

At that point, they just prayed that the orb was a magic bomb, and started sprinting out of the beholder lair as fast as they could. Unfortunately, their 30-foot run speeds (or the monk's like, 60 feet? It's too much in any case) were not enough to completely outrun a few insane mages with fly cast on them. The mages caught up and paralyzed the adventurers, pulling them back into the cave for revenge.

Finally, at that moment, the humming from the orb they had activated stopped, and they heard a few vwoop sounds coming from where the orb used to be. Still paralyzed, they heard the high-pitched giggling of many small creatures, the scream of the beholder's final minion, and then their paralysis broke. They turn around to see the dead mage covered in small goblinoid elementals, and behind them, Galder Fendt, explorer of the multiverse.

Brought onto the interdimensional Laughing Dolphin to recover, and given as many freshly-conjured banana cream pies as they could ask for, the PCs listened to Galder explain how the sphere had been made because [insert Time MacGuffin]. He had set an alarm spell so that when all the pieces were brought back together, he would be brought out to inform the collectors of their new duty: They would have to collect the five Shards of existence, and use them to banish the invading Demon Lords from the Material Plane, before they killed the gods and their universe had to be blocked off from the rest of the Multiverse.

Anyway, I was pretty happy with how Galder finally showed up as a major part of the story, and I'm glad it turned out well, since I've been building up to it for years now. Just thought I'd share!

The party was fighting against a cult of dragonblood in the latest campaign arc. Not your typical evil magic villain cult. More a multi-level-marketing snake oil salesperson heals you with magic but extorts you if you fail to meet payments or gives you fake healing type cult. Well, the party last session (made up of fae-adjacent types) was a plague doctor-mask wearing Tiefling Knowledge Cleric named Earie, a "isekai" Fae Divine Soul Sorcerer named Luanna, and a robes of many things-clad Half-Elf Insurrectionist Rebel named Heinlein.

The party had killed the uppermost leadership of the cult previously. And the following day the city was in crisis due to the amount of sickness and injury that suddenly spiked. Tarkin & Ravella were healing those injured while their son (a npc who I named Matt in the moment) was being threatened by a cultist fanatic. They were scared and trying to find him in the triage in the city square. A fight broke out but thanks to the haunted one backgrouned Earie has and Heinlein's Rebel abilities to incite the masses the party managed to fight the cultists pretty well. It was awesome, 4 acolytes who would heal each other when they got downed, 8 cultists, 1 cult fanatic who was the intimidating leader, and 2 crushing wave reavers who ultimately were swayed by the party thanks to Luanna's high charisma.

They rescued Matt, to the tearful thanks of Tarkin & Ravella. Earie, whose backstory is all about parental abandonment and being raised by a shady cult, was tearful for the familial reunion. It feels awesome to be sharing this story. I've got a couple of stories like this, game tales about the people honored through characters, spells, magic items, etc. in our community. But this one I actually feel is interesting to read about. Having a non-player-character in the world who is immune to disease but still needs help healing folks, and is helping the party out of gratitude...

I can't wait until the kaiju battles with Dinoroar come up. And I've already got a sentient light crossbow I've homebrewed which honors our latest character addition. Remember to share game tales.

And as always, keep moving forward.

Carmine (Master Thief stats) was a former legionnaire with a freelancer attitude towards finding work. Vell (Mage stats) was a survivor of a harsh magic education who was researching a solution to a zombie plague in her home country.

They were working together to accrue the components needed to treat the condition which meant any creature infected would turn into a zombie immediately upon death. Creatures afflicted would also begin to turn slowly if they took necrotic damage from any source. So the party rocks up on Vell’s encampment of hirelings. They are researching how pixie dust (used for polymorphing and transmogrifying creatures) could warp necrotic tissue into living tissue.

The party was interested in the process, and temporarily tricked by Vell’s politeness. Given a quest to find pixies, the party encountered the local fey of the forest, discovering that several had been taking against their will, and tortured to exhausting to extract pixie dust.

The party intervened to save the Pixies, fighting Vell and most of her hirelings. Carmine observed, making sure Vell would survive. Having escaped with only 1 character dying, the party made camp. Carmine would later steal a look at the party spellbook to act as the Familiar eyes so Vell could learn new spells.

When the party again rocked up on Vell & Carmine in the city of Serine, there was a fight. Some party members wanted vengeance for the Pixies and the Thrum party member who was killed by Vell. Other party members urged forgiveness.

Ultimately, the awakened mouse Fighter in the party scored a critical hit with Inflict Wounds on Carmine. With an insight check and a glance at Carmine’s now zombie-fied arm, it became clear that Vell was resorting to desperate measures to save her paramour, as well as her homeland. Begrudgingly, the party allowed Carmine & Vell one chance to live provided they harmed no further fey.

I’m excited for this plot point in my campaign with the zombie plague. Carmichael & Isabelle the Trickster were memorable low level antagonists to introduce the desperation of the neighboring country in my campaign.

The party consists of a couple oddballs who were all drawn together by a mysterious benefactor posting a notice that a treasure was buried somewhere in the desert in one of 3 graveyards. The world isn't our planet but it once had far more advanced human technology like cars and planes and cryogenic technology. Old world artifacts like famous real-world paintings have been found in places. Magic exists but is semi radioactive. Shamblefolk and gnolls and Thurm are prevalent, as well as Dragonfolk. Elves are Humans who have been mutated by magic.

Nebbick & Remus were in the Legacy Legion, a faction of psuedo-Druids made up mostly of Shamblefolk and other constructs. Meanwhile Elmer & Dee were in the Deepwaters (also sometimes called the Bloodywaters) an opposing faction of Circle of the Tides Druids who believe in renewal and rejection of tradition through core principles. The party fought or allied with each side throughout the adventure, eventually tricking Nebbick before he could slay the party Monk. Between the Monk getting Nebbick to monologue and the Rogue replacing the treasure chest's contents with random fruit, Nebbick ceased attacking. (He'd only attacked once the party had been hit decently hard by the Deepwaters.

Treasure turned out to be one half of a set of wedding gifts. Including a Ring of Elemental Command. Turns out the three graveyards the party had explored were meant to be part of a larger story. The Genie's Lost Treasure was two treasure sets for a bride and groom who were each powerful elementalists of opposite types buried in separate graveyards: just in case their magic ever became volatile in negative reaction to opposing elemental magic. The third graveyard was positioned such that if someone were standing at that location during the Summer solstice, the noontime sun would be exactly equidistant in the sky to each of the lovers' resting places.

Remus visited the party campsite to bury the hatchet after the Legacy Legion had obtained half the treasure. Only then did each group realize that the treasure was in two parts and history checks were rolled. Remus not being the most social left things there to return to Nebbick. The party decided to search that third graveyard again. They found an upright surf board with an Amulet of Neestra suspended from the top as a kind of memorial. A ward was inscribed and 2 party members simultaneously tried to disturb the ward.

**I had not accounted for this**

That ended up summoning not 1, but 2 CR5 Elementals. It was almost a tpk since the party was only 2nd level. Luckily they were able to break the surf board and trap the air elemental in the Amulet of Neestra. They'd snuck into the graveyard as the Deepwaters were leaving. The only creature who had noticed them was a Hyena who became very frightened by the ensuing battle. Can't wait for the next session!

I wanted to share something after finding this wonderful subreddit. Thanks so much to the founders for your hardwork and vision, keeping this going.

A great tragedy befel our group last September. We lost someone very special. He was my best friend of 25 yrs and my daighter God father. He was the most giving, loyal guy Ive ever known. He left behind his wife a two kids. It was a huge and very sudden loss.

We took a few weeks off and I made some choices for the group during that time. I took his character over as a DmPc and we continued exactly where we had left off. I changed the narative a bit, removing the BBG they were about to face. Instead I put a mysterious book and a "trap" in the hall where they would have had the final battle. I had his character open and read the book. In a flash of light his character and the book disappear before he could finish his sentence, "Its not a book, its a tr..." leaving no clue as to its purpose or his whereabouts.

For the next few sessions I would have him appear momentarily, but with flashing light and garbled voice, kind of like a glitch in the matrix or something. He was trying to tell the party something but was having trouble. After 3 sessions like this the party finally got its 4th member back.... sort of. 😊

Following another cryptic, partial message and light show, a dwarven cleric appeared in front of the party, just as one had vanished before. The character that came back however, was the disappeared characters son, sent by his father in his stead. The best part is that my friends irl son took on the roll. He wanted to honor his dad and finish what his dad had started. 😢

He created a character that looked and acted similar to his father but with a younger, more carefree attitude. It was so awesome to have him in the group. It was very healing for everyone I think.

In the narative, the book contained the "pages of life" allowing its reader to manipulate time and see parallel dimensions. The sentence that had been cut short was "Its not a book, its a tr...(ansport!)" It had sent him to another timeline where he had a family. He could not return to his own timeline however, being as he had become "keeper of the pages". He would monitor the book and contact them if anyone was messing with their existance, and even enlist them to correct such actions, literally saving their timelines existence. Kind of like fantasy version of "quantum leap" except they all stay in there own bodies. 😁 We have been running this set up ever since his passing and have even started exploring time travel because of it. Its been challenging but fun and a fitting tribute to my friend.

I DM a short weekly game for my fiance (playing a goliath barbarian named Stonebreaker) and her brother (playing a wood elf monk named Leaf Dancer), usually made up of ideas I've had in the back of my mind and them reacting to them far better than I would have expected.

During these events there came to be a scenario where I wanted to get the players quickly to the other side of the planet for a single adventure. They had accidentally unleashed a series of 12 sacred blessings based on the Chinese Zodiac animals, and the freed blessings scattered across the world to find new hosts. At this point in time the only scenario I had planned of the 12 was the boar, and that was set to take place on the other side of this fictional planet. And so who better to do some high level conjuration magic than our own renowned conjurer Galder!

Stonebreaker and Leaf Dancer were doing some rest and research at an allied castle, and after awhile who should come knocking but Galder. I like to run Galder as a kind of multiversal do-gooder; he shows up when he's needed to set chains of events into motion to benefit the world he's visiting. To prevent him from auto-solving the players' problems he isn't allowed to directly intervene/damage anything by cosmic law, but he is allowed to transport people where they need to go and give lore dumps. Galder arrives because he knows these two set the 12 blessings free and he's been told that there's some trouble brewing in the Forest of Boars on the aforementioned other continent. And so he offers to bring the two there to figure out what's going on and begin to get a handle on the potential chaos the freed blessings may soon cause.

The duo departs with Galder, but before they get to the Forest of Boars they have to make a quick pit stop. They arrive inside a spacious and comfy tavern; the Brown Dragon. Galder tells the players he has to work out some details real quickly and that if they need to stock up on anything they can talk to the merchant in the corner. Galder then goes to talk to the barkeep, a brown scaled dragonborn named Mr Brown that is my in-universe take on the DM who inspired the Brown Dragon Tavern. The players didn't bother trying to listen in on their conversation, but Galder was talking to Mr Brown to get the needed coordinates for the Forest of Boars and also cosmic permission to intervene in this way.

The players did talk to the merchant though; a white feathered kenku wearing a plague doctor mask. In this particular session I was running Dinoroar as a kind of eldritch peddler from Barovia, bearing a bunch of strange trinkets and knick knacks from his otherworldly travels and always looking for something new in his dealings. The players bought some handy things from him and traded him some very rare old coins, which Dinoroar happily accepted by snatching them with an eldritch chameleon tongue from within his beak and swallowing them, before putting his mask back on and cheerfully returning to reading his book.

Galder then returned to the party and brought them to the site of their adventure, hopefully setting him up as a useful multiversal friend and the Brown Dragon Tavern as an interesting spot to return to.

Hi there folks. During my campaign I ran a story in which my players searched for the Vault of Galder, the location he had used to hide relics confiscated from the villains of a century before. It was mostly composed of traps from Tales from the Yawning Portal, with some SCP-esque items within. The party met Kwalish at the end of the Lost Laboratory questline, and he had reluctantly given them the location. They were seeking The Mind Chalice, an item of terrible power, with the goal of restoring the memories of a friendly NPC, lost in a previous arc. Just inside the vault is a small study area, and I thought I would share the letter they found there:

This is likely the last time I will be able to come here. For those who may uncover this place in the long centuries from now- this is my vault, filled with… enigmatic, anomalous items I discovered during my travels. Some were wielded by powerful, evil men, some others were simply passing from hand to hand, bringing misfortune and death as they went. This vault contains those I was unable to destroy, which unfortunately is a great many. Some in the deeper sections of the vault are terrible beyond imagination.

Future traveller, I beg of you: If you have discovered this vault by accident, turn and leave. The access shaft will carry you up to the surface, and you can go on with your life. If by chance you sought this place out, and have the capability to do so, I ask that you destroy the items that I could not. The items are heavily defended, to protect the items from those who would use them- but I trust that if you are a learned and skilled individual capable of destroying them, then you will be able to break through. To those who would use these items, I plead for you to turn around. No good can come of what is contained within these walls.

From one age to another,

Galder Fendt.

​

After arguing over the warning- the party intended to use one of the items after all- they made the decision to descend deeper into the vault, guided by a torn fragment of a manifest. Traversing the third floor, a party member almost died to a heated metal trap- but they continued and found the chalice. They read Galder's Containment Procedures, determined that the object was nightmare fuel, and backed the hell out of there. It would do what they wanted, but the price of using it was far too high. They reset what traps they could, added their own to the mix, and got the first ship back to town.

Even returning empty handed, the players loved the game. Only when they read the description of the item did they realise all of the red flags they had been ignoring over the past seven sessions- and it seeded them with hooks for some alternative solutions.

​

Edit: Description of the Mind Chalice itself is in a comment below.