Posts tagged D&D
Some day I’m going to play a caster in D&D 3.5 (sorcerer, wizard, etc) whose spells look like cats.
Fireball is a giant cat exploding.
Chain lightning is a kitten stream.
Magic missile is a lap-seeking cat.
I will be empowered by cats! Muwahahaha!
(Source: velvetdemon.net)
It was late, the moon casting a spotlight on the roof of the inn. Nerje, running his thick, black fingernails through his hair, sat down and pulled his stolen treasure out of his pocket—a roll, leftover from dinner. His mother, the owner of the inn, would have been cross if she’d known he was eating this late at night. But Nerje always got hungry right before he went to bed. He was growing, by leaps and bounds these days.
He was glad to be growing. He’d always been the scrawny kid, the one everyone made fun of; the kid no one wanted to touch, for fear they might break him. But now that he was finally gaining some height, perhaps they’d listen to him more. Maybe they’d bully him a little less.
Biting into the roll, Nerje, with his other hand, ran his fingers through his hair again, feeling his scalp. Daerys—another Tiefling—had told him that his cousin had grown horns during his growth spurt. Horns made you a badass, Daerys had insisted, and maybe Nerje would grow some too. No one would mess with you if you had horns.
Nothing seemed to be developing yet, but Nerje wasn’t about to lose hope. He wanted the whole nine yards of his demonic heritage—the scales, the wings, a tail, hooves. It was too bad that that stuff never came in later. You were born with it, or you didn’t have it. With wings, or hooves and a tail, none of the neighborhood bullies would feel like picking on him, surely. He could just look at them, and they’d run as fast as their legs could carry them.
“Nerje!”
He groaned. His mother? This late? “I’m on the roof!”
“Get in bed! Now! I won’t say it again!”
Something had woken her. A nightmare, maybe. She’d had more and more of those, lately. Probably about when his father had been taken out and beaten to death—when the town had been convinced of his guilt in a murder case. Law had never seemed right to him, after that. It was just a bunch of idiots trying to control you for their own purposes. Or trying to kill you, like father.
“Okay!” he called down, stuffing the last of the roll in his mouth.
He was going to make a name for himself. He was going to make those stupid guards cower in their boots, one day. They’d beg him not to hurt their families, or to mess up their reputation with the leader of the guard—or, worse, the king himself. He’d take tea with the king, someday, and the king would look forward to his visits. One day.
But first, he needed to get tall.
(Source: velvetdemon.net)
Dara’s eyes snap open, half-way through her meditation, as the face of something — which isn’t something’s face, at the same time — looms into her inner eye. Startled, she takes a deep breath. Nothing in the forest clearing has changed. Her companions, bickering at their ‘home base’ nearby, haven’t come to bother her.
So what was that… thing?
Cautiously, the half-elf monk closes her eyes again, trying to lull herself back into a state of inner calm. But the faceless creature, something rageful and emotionless about it at the same time, looms back into view, and she can almost feel it. Frustrated, and a little disturbed, Dara once again opens her eyes to stare at the clearing — the dark, twisted-looking clearing.
Who are you? she wonders, Who are you, that so grabs my inner eye and turns it upon you?
Something sinister? Something from the government? …Scrying, perhaps? But Dara has never felt a scrying before. And surely a creature that… strange… would be able to scry on a magic-less monk without problems.
Shaking her head, she stands up again, giving up on more meditation. The thing will not let her feel peace. Only its strange void of emotion, and its mentally knarled visage.
Why can’t I see its face? What could be so powerful and not have given itself a face? …it makes no sense.
(Source: velvetdemon.net)
Some Multiverse travelers are like tourists — they like to sample the new cultures, see new sights, learn new things. But some embark on the simple idea of causing havoc and gaining glory and power. This is a story about the latter type of travelers, a particularly nasty band.
No one knows quite when the first Fiendish Cacti appeared, or who was responsible for creating them. Many are of the opinion that a wizard had an equal fascination with magic and succulents. However they came into being, they are still quite rare, and catch many off-guard. Sometimes with prickly results.
Personality: Fiendish Cacti are generally suspicious of non-plant creatures, but are not outright hostile unless deliberately attacked. Most are rather close-minded and do not understand the mobile creatures’ obsession with traveling. The majority are quite scathing of potted or non-sentient plants and call them a wide variety of nicknames.
Physical Description: The tallest-known Fiendish Cacti was four feet tall, the average being somewhere around two feet. They come in a variety of colors, and resemble a cacti which is more thorny than plant. Some have been known to have eyes, and sometimes multiple eyes, but it’s not common. They do, however, all have mouths somewhere in their bodies; it serves no purpose other than to talk, as far as researchers have discovered.
Relations: See personality. Cacti delight in making fun of “fleshies,” but are not generally hostile. Amongst themselves the Cacti are perfectly amiable - the only in-fighting they can do is through words, and the race is so thinly-spread that doing so is pointless. They are all one gender, technically, but other races often identify them by what gender their voice sounds like.
Religion: Fiendish Cacti, in general, look up to more evil-aligned deities than good, although neutral deities can be common in certain areas. They are indignant of nature-deities, believing themselves to be just like any other race, and not subject to nature spells.
Alignment: Though they run the gambit, Neutral Evil is the most common, with True Neutral right behind. It’s extremely rare for a Fiendish Cacti to be Lawful, though it does happen. Lawful Cacti prefer to live in pots.
Language: Fiendish Cacti speak Abyssal. Terran is also common. Most Fiendish Cacti will only learn Common so that they can make fun of travelers.
Names: Most Cacti have very, very normal names - like Susan, Jacob, etc - because they believe themselves to be on equal footing with other races.
Adventurers: A Fiendish Cacti adventurer would be very rare indeed, probably one obsessed with delusions of grandeur. Sorting out how to travel would be the first step.
Fiendish Cacti Racial Traits:
(Source: velvetdemon.net)
The policeman, who looked to be in charge of the small circus of cops, held up his hands emphatically. Still more enforcers behind him trained their guns. Kita knew they were training them on her forehead, but a smile came quite easily to her lips.
“Officer,” she said easily, nodding to him respectfully. He seemed confused by the gesture. “It’s a fine day.”
“Please, ma’am,” he responded, glancing behind her at the monstrous behemoth who was panting and snarling on his chain, waiting to be released. “Um. You and your friends - and that thing - are under arrest. Please come with us, nice and easy.”
Kita gave him another, broader smile and flexed her gloved fingers. “Don’t worry, officer,” she said, “this is all a misunderstanding. I won’t hold it against you tomorrow. In fact, I’d like you to come with us.”
He looked confused as, in the span of six seconds, she had a gun in her hands and had placed a bullet in the brains of every enforcer on the steps of the government building. Only the officer - his nameplate said Forrest - was still standing, gasping quietly in horror. He reached for his gun, but Kita rolled her eyes and dealt him a ringing kick to his face, knocking him on his back.
She placed a booted foot on the center of his chest, her smile back in place. “Please don’t do that,” she said, nodding at his gun, which she confiscated and tossed into a nearby planter. “Come with us, Forrest. Nice and easy. You’re going to be reporting to us tomorrow.”
