scribefindegil:

cryptognomicon:

probablybadrpgideas:

If you paladin rolls a natural one when smiting evil, instead of being smoten, evil is smitten. Now they wander around with a blushing demon bashfully writing poetry about them constantly

@scribefindegil DO THIS. DO THIS NOW.

i’ll take it under advisement 🙂

orriculum:

orriculum:

in a dnd game i had to role-play my bard asking the princess to marry him so i word-for-word quoted mr darcy’s proposal to elizabeth from the end of the book and now the half of my group that has never read pride and prejudice thinks im a hopeless romantic

@ccea here you go

prokopetz:

prokopetz:

rikmach:

unseenphil:

prokopetz:

D&D adventure concept: it turns out that the Fairy Queen doesn’t actually do anything with the sparkles-in-your-eyes and memories-of-a-summer’s-day and other sundry intangibles and abstractions she’s been scamming mortals out of for the last few centuries.

Whatever she had planned for them didn’t pan out, but she never ordered her minions to stop collecting them; by the time it became clear that the project was a no-go, expectations had already been set, and when you’re the Queen of the Fairies you can’t very well admit to having a bad idea.

She’s just been discretely dumping them down a disused well for hundreds of years, and the resulting effluvium of spoiled virtue and rotten whimsy has begun to contaminate the drinking water of a human village downstream – which is where the player characters come in.

It probably doesn’t help that half the Fae economy is now built around buying the stuff- every goblin market accepts your happiest childhood moment as legal tender for their dubious merchandise, and since the queen’s made it fashionable, there are fairy nobles who specialize in certain ephemera. 

(Everyone’s a little worried about the Baron of Autumn, who specializes in bespoke Orphan’s Tears.) 

But no one’s gonna admit that they don’t know what all this collecting is for, they just know that it’s valuable to the Queen.

Oh, god, imagine if the faerie realm catches on that the Queen no longer has any use for such things? Imagine the faerie realm undergoing an economic collapse!

I’m not gonna say “player characters start out investigating tainted well, end up being responsible for Fairy Realm’s equivalent of collapse of the gold standard” is specifically where I was going with this, but it’s definitely amongst the several possible outcomes I had in mind.

Since folks in the notes have been wondering about the potential effects of the contaminated water, a few ideas:

• Village residents are suddenly compelled to speak in rhyme, but most of them are lousy poets, so in practice they’re just unable to communicate effectively (this one works even if the GM is bad at improvising rhyming dialogue, since the premise takes that into account)
• Certain villagers’ personalities are warped into archetypal heroes and villains, without the skills to go with it, so you basically end up with Batman theme villains; e.g., a villainous shoemaker who devises dastardly shoe-related crimes
• Domestic animals begin behaving as folkloric guardians and tricksters; e.g., a chicken who won’t let you gather her eggs unless you successfully answer her three riddles, and devours you if you fail
• Formerly harmless rituals and superstitions become efficacious, e.g., a rash of seemingly unconnected people all getting hit with the same curse, the common thread being that they all walked under the same ladder at some point
• Local tradespeople become supernaturally effective at their trades in awkward or inconvenient ways, e.g., the village piemaker begins unwittingly baking pies that act as magic potions with a variety of exciting and undocumented effects

For bonus points, have each incident be amenable to its own targeted cure or solution that doesn’t obviously point back to the water supply. If you’re running a town-centric campaign (e.g., perhaps using a system like Beyond the Wall and Other Adventures), you could squeeze a whole series of investigative scenarios out of this bullshit before the players figure out what’s going on.

(Feel free to add your own ideas if you’ve got ‘em!)

andhumanslovedstories:

andhumanslovedstories:

A cleric who is the Team Mom and only heals by kissing you on the forehead and buffs you by licking her thumb and rubbing away some schmutz on your face

someone’s like “you know that’s not actually required for your job” and she’s like “shhhhh my beautiful child, my healing my rules, I made you a potion, it’s chicken noodle mana” 

Their holy sigil is a macaroni necklace you made in second grade. You didn’t know them in second grade. You’re not sure how they got that macaroni necklace. You ask them about it, and they just slip you a twenty and tell you to get whatever you want at the food court. “What is a food court?” you cry, but it doesn’t matter because they summoned a hero’s feast and everything tastes wonderful, and at some point you crawl into their lap to cry about something you thought you were adult enough to handle. 

“This is you handling it,” they say. “You’re never too big to ask your mom for help.”

“You’re literally not my mother,” you sob.

“But metaphorically,” they say, and you’re like truuuuuuuuuu and sob a little more before they tuck you into a bedroll because you’ve got a big day tomorrow stopping an assassination at a royal palace

vulturekiss:

my dad, picking me up from d&d: did you become dungeon master