The Big Bad GM

As bad as you can get - despair will follow you if you cross the GM. Rules over all the player characters who stand no chance against him. Good luck on your adventures! You will need it Mwhahahahahaha!

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Meanwhile... The Rest of the World Moves On

I will destroy all of you - there is no hope. That is all that the Big Bad DM ever has to say to you.   Back at the lightning rail camp
  • Journal Entry by Zelcer Fourflare, Lead Engineer of the Lightning Rail Camp
    • Day 4 of our rebuilding efforts The lightning rail camp has been facing some significant delays lately, and I fear that it is all due to the lightning elemental that seems to be causing trouble. This creature has been slowly digging into the center of the mountain, causing significant damage to the tracks and the surrounding terrain. We have tried everything we can think of to stop it, but it seems to be impervious to our efforts. A group of adventurers claimed they had a solution to our problem. They were brash and seemed eager to get the job done, but they left as quickly as they came, promising to return with the answer to our problem. It has been several days since we last saw them, and I fear they have abandoned their duties to the camp and are trying to avoid the government mandates of reconstruction. The longer this problem persists, the more our rebuilding efforts are delayed. The elemental's constant digging is making it impossible to lay down new tracks, and it's causing the already weakened foundation of the mountain to crumble. If we don't find a solution soon, we may have to abandon this site and start over elsewhere, which would be a significant setback to our already slow progress. I can't help but wonder what those adventurers were thinking when they left. Did they think their solution would magically appear without any work on their part? Did they even have a solution in the first place? It's frustrating to have put our trust in them and to be left waiting for so long without any word. I must remain vigilant and continue to work with the other engineers to find a solution to this problem. We can't afford to give up now, even though the situation seems dire. I only hope that those adventurers are still out there somewhere, working on a solution and that they will return soon. Until then, we must press on and continue to do our best to rebuild the lightning rail.  
  • Rest of the camp.
    • The Lightning Rail rebuilding camp was a bustling hub of activity, with workers and engineers busy rebuilding the tracks and repairing the trains that had been damaged in the last war. The camp was a welcome sight to many, as it offered safety and shelter to those traveling the dangerous trade routes. Among the workers was a chatty sorcerer named Rex, who had a knack for storytelling and loved to regale his fellow workers with tales of his adventures. He was well-liked by most, but his constant talking could sometimes be a bit overwhelming. One day, however, Rex disappeared without a trace. No one knew where he had gone or what had happened to him. The workers searched the camp and the surrounding area, but there was no sign of the missing sorcerer. Some suspected foul play, but others believed he may have simply wandered off on his own, caught up in his own thoughts and adventures. Regardless, the camp felt quieter without his constant chatter and storytelling. Despite the mystery surrounding Rex's disappearance, there was a sense of relief among the workers that they no longer had to endure the obnoxious sound of a bard's bagpipes. A traveling bard named De Sir E had briefly joined the camp, and while his music was initially welcomed, his obnoxious and out-of-tune playing quickly became unbearable. The workers were grateful for the peace and quiet that followed, and they worked harder than ever to complete the repairs on the lightning rail. They knew that once the rail was fully operational, they would be able ensure the transport of goods with greater speed and safety. As the days passed, rumors began to circulate about Rex's disappearance. Some claimed that he had joined a band of adventurers and was off on a new adventure, while others believed he had been abducted by a rival sorcerer. Regardless of the truth, the workers of the Lightning Rail rebuilding camp continued their work, always keeping an eye out for their missing comrade.   Dragonwood Forest Nerine the Dryad and Nathair the Faerie Dragon were sitting on a tree branch, overlooking the path that led to their hiding spot. They had been waiting for the adventurers to find them for a while now, and were growing impatient. Nathair let out a small sigh. "I can't believe they haven't found us yet. We've been playing pranks on them for days, and they still haven't caught on." Nerine chuckled. "Maybe our pranks were too complicated for them to understand. I mean, growing flowers isn't exactly a difficult feat." Nathair nodded in agreement. "I know, right? And they've been wandering around for hours now, searching for us. How hard can it be to find a dryad and a faerie dragon?" Nerine shrugged. "I guess they're just not very good at this. But we should give them some credit. They've been through a lot on their journey so far. Maybe they're just tired." Nathair nodded. "That's true. They've had to deal with vine blights, will-o-wisps, ancient constructs, and even a cursed tower. Maybe we should go easy on them." Nerine smiled. "I like the way you think, Nathair. Maybe we should give them a clue to help them find us." Nathair's eyes lit up. "Ooh, I love it! Let's leave a trail of flowers for them to follow." Nerine nodded in agreement. "That sounds perfect. Maybe they'll appreciate our pranks more if we make it a little easier for them." With that, the two of them set to work, leaving a trail of flowers along the path that led to their hiding spot. They giggled as they imagined the adventurers finally figuring out their prank, and couldn't wait to see the look on their faces.   **** Klaus the Barrel, a dwarf known for his eccentric barrel bodysuit and dual battle axes, had been traveling for the last day through the dense forest surrounding the World Tree. He had been on the trail of the Grung, a frog-like species that had destroyed his base camp and stolen a precious artifact. As he hacked his way through the thick foliage, Klaus couldn't help but curse his luck. He had thought he had found the perfect spot to set up his camp, but it seemed that the Grung had other plans. Klaus was determined to get his revenge and retrieve the stolen artifact. He had spent years searching for it, and he wasn't going to let the Grung get away with it. He gritted his teeth and pressed on, his axes at the ready. Finally, he came upon a clearing where he saw the Grung gathered around a small pond. They were jabbering excitedly, tossing the artifact back and forth. Klaus took a deep breath and charged into the clearing, his axes whirling. The Grung were caught off guard, and Klaus made quick work of them. He snatched the artifact from the air just as it was being tossed to another Grung and held it triumphantly above his head. But as he turned to leave, Klaus felt a sharp pain in his back. He looked around to see a Grung shaman standing behind him, its blow dart still in hand. Klaus's vision began to blur, and he stumbled backwards. As he fell to the ground, Klaus couldn't help but think that he had underestimated the Grung. But he had succeeded in his mission. He had retrieved the artifact, and that was all that mattered. With a final gasp, Klaus closed his eyes, his barrel bodysuit rolling him down the forest floor. The Grung had won the battle, but Klaus the Barrel had won the war.     At the crumbled tower: Vlorg the Orc trudged through the debris of his secret research facility, muttering curses under his breath. He had just discovered that his hideout had been ransacked by the very adventurers he had discovered near his tower a few hours ago. As he looked around at the scattered papers and broken equipment, Vlorg couldn't help but feel a sense of regret. He should have done something about those meddling adventurers before they had a chance to do any damage to his research. He had been so caught up in his work that he had underestimated their tenacity and curiosity. He had thought they would move on to other pursuits as they seemed to be unaware of the secrets of the tower, but they must have persisted, poking around until they had found his facility. Now, Vlorg's years of research were in shambles, and he knew that it would take him months, if not years, to rebuild his equipment and start anew. He had lost valuable research data, and his most prized possession had been taken. Vlorg sat down on a pile of rubble, feeling defeated. He had always prided himself on being the smartest orc in the land, but now he was faced with the reality that he had been outsmarted by a group of adventurers. He knew he had to regroup and come up with a new plan. Perhaps it was time to find some allies or recruit a few minions to help protect his research. He couldn't let this setback hold him back for too long. As he sat there, contemplating his next move, Vlorg realized that he had learned a valuable lesson. He couldn't afford to underestimate the adventurers again. They were a force to be reckoned with, and he needed to be prepared for anything. With a determined look on his face, Vlorg stood up, brushed off the dust and debris, and made his way out of the ruined facility. He would find a way to rebuild and protect his research, and he wouldn't let anyone get in his way.   At the Fire Spire
  • Journal Entry from Parack the blacksmith
    • I had an interesting encounter with a group of individuals today. They seemed to be looking for something, and as fate would have it, I just might have what they were looking for. They asked about my crafted prosthetics that utilize dragonshards. It's not every day that people come asking about that kind of thing, but I can't say I blame them. The prosthetics I make are the best in the region, if not the whole continent. But I couldn't help but wonder if these were the people the old man had been talking about. The one who asked me to secretly help them but make it as challenging as possible. He said they were on a mission of great importance, but he couldn't reveal more. I decided to play it cool and not reveal anything too revealing. I told them that I could make them prosthetics, but only after I had verified their intentions. I wouldn't want my creations to fall into the wrong hands, after all. They seemed to understand, and we parted ways. But I can't shake this feeling that something big is about to happen. The old man had a look in his eye that I've never seen before. And now these strangers asking about dragonshard prosthetics. It's all too coincidental. I'll have to keep my eyes and ears open and see where this all leads.   At the Dough Flow Dear Journal, What a relief! A group of adventurers finally took care of the rats in my basement. Those rats were highly intelligent and had exposed brains, which was really creepy. They had been attacking my stockpile of raw goods, and it was becoming a huge problem. I tried everything to get rid of them, but nothing seemed to work. I was about to give up hope. But then, these adventurers came in and saved the day. They were a tough bunch, and they didn't seem to be intimidated by the rats at all. They went down into the basement and took care of the problem in no time. I was so grateful that I gave them 50 gold galifars for their effort. However, I realize that this may put a personal strain on me for the next few months. Paying that much gold for their services was a lot of money, and it may take me a while to recover financially. But I couldn't risk losing my stockpile of raw goods. They are essential for my business, and without them, I wouldn't be able to keep my bakery running. I hope that nothing else goes wrong in the future. I can't afford to keep paying adventurers to solve my problems. But for now, I am just happy that the rats are gone, and I can focus on making delicious baked goods for the people of Woodhelm. Yours Truly, Aurelia Dupree, Baker at The Dough Flough   At the Obelisk Hotel Dear Journal, Today was an interesting day at the Obelisk Hotel. A previous customer, Vincent Zander, came in today with a brand new outfit and introduced himself as Miles Ashtor. He had on fancy merchant clothes, a feather hat, and a new name, but he wasn't fooling anyone. I recognized him immediately. Vincent must have caused trouble during the past 24 hours, so I was hesitant to give him another room. But he was insistent and offered to pay double the price for the room. I couldn't pass up that kind of money, so I gave in and gave him a room. I am not sure why he is trying to hide his identity or why he needed another room, but it's not my place to ask questions. As long as he pays the price, I'll let him stay. It's not like I have a shortage of rooms to fill. I can't help but feel a little amused by Vincent's attempt at deception. He may have a new outfit and a new name, but he can't change who he really is. I just hope he doesn't cause any trouble this time around. I'll be keeping an eye on him. Yours Truly, Julliana Trakas, Proprietor of the Obelisk Hotel   At the Adventurer's Guild To: Captain Christopher O'Finnegan From: Evie Lavery, Head of Adventurers Guild Captain, I am writing to inform you of a bounty that has been posted at the Adventurers Guild by a female halfling named Verna Appleblossom. She has offered a reward of 100 gold galifers for the capture of an individual named Vincent Zander, claiming that the bounty comes from you. I am writing to inquire if this bounty is valid and if you have any information regarding the individual in question. The Adventurers Guild takes bounties very seriously, and we want to ensure that our members are not chasing after false leads or acting on misinformation. Please let us know if this bounty is valid and if there is any additional information that you can provide about Vincent Zander. We will communicate any updates to our members and will work to ensure that the bounty is fulfilled if it is indeed legitimate. Thank you for your attention to this matter. Sincerely, Evie Lavery Head of Adventurers Guild   *** To Captain Christopher O'Finnegan, I am writing to report my findings on the Noble Dragonborn Paladin and the female Halfling servant. As per your instructions, I followed them discreetly to determine any possible ties with our suspect. During my surveillance, I observed that the two individuals were traveling together and seemed to be on a quest. They entered several establishments, but did not seem to interact with anyone suspicious. The Paladin, in particular, seemed to be performing some kind of holy pilgrimage. However, things took an unexpected turn when the Halfling servant split off from the Paladin and went to the Adventurer's Guild. She placed a bounty on the Guild's bulletin board for an individual named Vincent Zander, claiming that the bounty came from you, Captain. I have yet to determine the validity of this bounty, but I will continue to keep an eye on these two individuals and report any further developments. Respectfully, [Name Redacted]

    Session 11 stories

    Oh The Plot Thickens CHAPTER 1

    Parack, the artificer blacksmith, paced back and forth in his workshop, fuming with anger. Nathair, the faerie dragon, perched on a nearby anvil, watching him silently.

    "They stole my money, Nathair," Parack seethed. "And they destroyed the carpet in the foyer. That room was finally starting to look like a proper home, and now it's ruined."

    Nathair nodded sympathetically. "That's terrible, Parack. What are you going to do about it?"

    "I'm going to demand reparations," Parack declared firmly. "Those thieves need to pay for what they've done. They can't just waltz into my home, take my hard-earned money, and destroy my belongings without consequences."

    "But how will you get them to pay?" Nathair asked, looking concerned.

    "I'll find a way," Parack said determinedly. "I'm an artificer, after all. I can create all sorts of ingenious devices to make them pay for their crimes."

    Nathair cocked his head to one side, intrigued. "What kind of devices?"

    "Oh, all sorts of things," Parack replied, a wicked glint in his eye. "Traps, snares, mechanical spiders that crawl into their beds at night..."

    Nathair shuddered. "That sounds... ominous."

    Parack chuckled darkly. "Let them be afraid. They deserve it. And when they come crawling back, begging for mercy, I'll make sure they pay for every last copper they stole, and every inch of carpet they ruined."

    Nathair nodded solemnly. "I see. Well, I wish you luck with your plans, Parack. And if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."

    "Thanks, Nathair," Parack said, grinning fiercely. "I'll make sure those thieves regret the day they crossed me."

    Parack stopped pacing and turned to Nathair, his expression growing even darker. "And that's not all, Nathair. Before the thieves broke in, there was another incident. Someone came to my foundry, pretending to be on fire, screaming for help. I rushed out to help them, but it turned out to be a changeling criminal named Rex."

    Nathair's eyes widened in surprise. "Rex? The wanted criminal who escaped from the guards?"

    "That's the one," Parack confirmed, his fists clenching. "He tricked me and then escaped before I could turn him in. I suspect that all of these issues are interconnected. The thieves, Rex... there's something bigger going on here, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

    Nathair looked thoughtful. "It does seem like quite a coincidence. What do you plan to do?"

    "I need to gather more information," Parack replied. "I'll start by questioning the guards about Rex's escape. Maybe I can find out who helped him, and if they're connected to the thieves. And if I find any evidence that ties all of this together, I'll make sure those responsible pay for their crimes."

    Nathair nodded. "It sounds like a dangerous task, Parack. Are you sure you're up for it?"

    "I have to be," Parack said grimly. "I can't let these criminals get away with what they've done. Not to me, not to anyone else. And if anyone can get to the bottom of this, it's me. I'm an artificer, after all. I'm used to solving difficult problems."

    Nathair grinned. "That's true. And if anyone can come up with some truly inventive ways to punish these criminals, it's you."

    Parack chuckled. "Thanks, Nathair. I'll keep you updated on my progress. And if I need your help, I'll definitely let you know."

    Nathair's smile faded as he listened to Parack's plans. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Parack. These criminals are dangerous.

    "And speaking of danger, why did you trust them with the sacred dragonshard in the first place?" Parack said quizzically.

    Nathair sighed. "I didn't have much of a choice, Parack. They were the only ones who could retrieve it from the ruins, and time was running out. But you're right, they're not exactly the most trustworthy individuals. They cause destruction wherever they go."

    Parack nodded in agreement. "That's what I don't understand. How could anyone believe they were capable of safeguarding something as important as the sacred dragonshard?"

    "I don't think they were trusted, Parack," Nathair said thoughtfully. "I think they were just the only ones available. Sometimes we have to make difficult decisions in order to protect what's important. It's not always ideal, but it's necessary."

    Parack seemed to consider this for a moment before speaking up again. "Speaking of destruction, what about Rex? You mentioned that he's known to burn down trees in the forest. Do you think Nerine the Dryad, your companion, could accept the destruction of perfectly healthy trees?"

    Nathair frowned, a troubled look crossing his face. "I don't know, Parack. That's a good question. But I do know that Rex is a danger to everyone around him. He needs to be stopped before he causes any more harm."

    Parack nodded, his expression serious. "I understand. And I'll do what I can to help. But let's be careful, Nathair. We don't want to make things worse by rushing in blindly."

    Nathair nodded in agreement. "You're right, Parack. We need to be strategic about this. I'll gather more information before taking any action. And in the meantime, I'll continue to work on ways to protect my realm from those thieves I have inadvertently brought into my domain."

    Nathair gave him a secondary grateful nod before flying off into the air, disappearing into the distance. Parack watched him go, his mind racing with ideas and plans for how to bring these criminals to justice.

    CHAPTER 2

    Nathair flew through the forest, searching for his companion Nerine the Dryad. He knew she would be upset when she found out that the adventurers who had been entrusted with the sacred dragonshard were the same ones who had caused so much destruction in the forest.

    He finally spotted her near a small grove of trees. She was standing with her arms crossed, looking at the ground with a troubled expression on her face.

    "Nerine," Nathair called out as he landed on a nearby branch. "We need to talk."

    Nerine turned to him, her expression wary. "What is it, Nathair? What's happened?"

    Nathair took a deep breath before launching into the story of Parack and the thieves who had stolen his money and destroyed his carpet, and how they had been the ones chosen to retrieve the sacred dragonshard.

    Nerine's eyes widened in shock. "But those are the same adventurers who have caused so much destruction in the forest! How could anyone trust them with something as important as the sacred dragonshard?"

    "That's what I'm trying to figure out," Nathair said, frustration creeping into his voice. "And that's not even the worst of it. There's a changeling criminal named Rex who's involved, and he's known to burn down trees in the forest."

    Nerine's expression grew even more troubled. "That's terrible, Nathair. But what can we do? If these adventurers are the only ones who can retrieve the sacred dragonshard, we have to trust them."

    "But how can we trust them?" Nathair demanded, feeling exasperated. "They've caused so much damage in the forest already. How can we be sure they won't cause more?"

    Nerine placed a hand on his shoulder, her expression gentle. "Nathair, we have to trust in the guidance of Goldfish of prophecy. He has chosen these adventurers as the ones he will follow, and we must trust his guidance."

    Nathair sighed, feeling conflicted. "I suppose you're right. But it's hard to trust people who have caused so much destruction."

    "I know," Nerine said softly. "But we must have faith that they will do what's right. And if they don't, then we'll have to deal with the consequences. But for now, we must have hope."

    Nathair nodded, feeling slightly better. "You're right, Nerine. I'll try to have faith in Goldfish's guidance. And I'll do what I can to make sure these adventurers don't cause any more harm in the forest."

    Nerine smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "I knew I could count on you, Nathair. Let's hope that Goldfish's guidance will lead us to a good outcome."

    Nathair pondered for a moment, thinking about the wooden maze that led to the sacred dragonshard. He remembered how he and Nerine had worked hard to lay flowers in the maze, hoping that it would help the adventurers find their way. But it seemed that the adventurers were oblivious to all their hints and were completely misguided with their chosen path.

    "Nerine," Nathair began, "do you think our help in laying the flowers through the maze will ever be useful to the adventurers? They seem to be completely oblivious to the hint."

    Nerine frowned, considering Nathair's question. "It's hard to say, Nathair. But we must continue to have faith that they will find their way. Perhaps they will eventually see the flowers and understand their meaning."

    "But what if they don't?" Nathair asked, feeling frustrated. "Should we be more direct? Maybe we should get the pixies involved again. They were able to guide the adventurers before."

    Nerine nodded in agreement. "That might be a good idea, Nathair. We should do everything we can to help them find their way. But we must be careful not to reveal too much information. We don't want to give away the location of the sacred dragonshard."

    "Right," Nathair said, feeling relieved that Nerine was on board with his plan. "And speaking of finding the sacred dragonshard, do you think your staff of flowers will be useful in unlocking the entrance to the chamber where the dragonshard is held?"

    Nerine's expression brightened at the mention of her staff. "Yes, I believe it will. The staff has a special enchantment that allows it to unlock certain magical barriers. I've used it before to access hidden areas in the forest. I'm sure it will be useful in unlocking the entrance to the chamber."

    Nathair smiled, feeling encouraged. "That's great news, Nerine. With your staff and the help of the pixies, we should be able to guide the adventurers to the sacred dragonshard and keep them from causing any more harm to the forest."

    Nerine nodded, a determined look in her eyes. "We will do everything we can to protect the forest and ensure that the sacred dragonshard is kept safe. We cannot allow it to fall into the wrong hands."

    As Nathair and Nerine continued to plan their next move, Nathair had an idea. "Nerine, I think we should give the adventurers a more blatant clue to help them find the sacred dragonshard."

    Nerine raised an eyebrow. "A more blatant clue? Won't that reveal the location of the dragonshard?"

    "Not necessarily," Nathair replied. "We can give them a hint without revealing the exact location. It's worth a try, at least."

    Nerine nodded thoughtfully. "I see your point, Nathair. But how will we deliver this clue to them?"

    Nathair thought for a moment before speaking. "I have an idea. I'll write a letter and hand it over to Julliana Trakas, the proprietor of the Obelisk Hotel where the adventurers are staying. She can pass it on to them without arousing any suspicion."

    Nerine smiled, impressed with Nathair's plan. "That's a good idea, Nathair. What will the letter say?"

    Nathair thought for a moment before starting to write on a piece of parchment. "It will say, 'The answer lies in the forest, but not all paths lead to the same destination. Seek the wooden maze as its starting point stands proudly out in the most unnatural form. Allow the forest speak to you. The forest will guide you to your destiny.'"

    Nerine read the letter and nodded in approval. "That's a good hint, Nathair. It's not too obvious, but it should be enough to guide them in the right direction."

    Nathair folded the letter and handed it to Nerine. "Will you take this to Julliana for me, Nerine? I don't want to draw any attention to myself."

    Nerine nodded and took the letter from Nathair. "I'll take care of it, Nathair. We'll make sure the adventurers find their way to the sacred dragonshard."

    Nathair watched as Nerine disappeared into the forest, feeling confident that their plan would succeed.

    The Dish Must Be Finished!

    Deep within the heart of the Dragonwood, a group of bandits had made their home. They were a motley crew of humans, goblins, and even a few half-orcs. They were skilled at thievery and had made a name for themselves among the people of the nearby town of Woodhelm.

    For months, they had been preying on traveling merchants, ambushing them and taking their goods. They would then sell the stolen goods in the black market, making a good living for themselves. But there was one bandit who particularly enjoyed stealing from spice caravans. His name was Keth, and he had a passion for cooking.

    Keth had always been fascinated by the different spices and flavors used in cooking. He loved experimenting with different ingredients and techniques, and had become somewhat of a master chef among the bandits. Whenever he stole a spice caravan, he would be giddy with excitement, eager to try out the new flavors in his cooking.

    One day, a caravan of spices was passing through the Dragonwood, and the bandits had set their sights on it. They had planned the ambush carefully, and were waiting for the perfect moment to strike. As the caravan approached, they leapt out from their hiding places and surrounded the merchants.

    Keth was in his element. He quickly made his way to the back of the caravan and began rifling through the crates of spices. He could barely contain his excitement as he picked out the different herbs and spices, imagining the delicious dishes he could create with them.

    Unknown to Keth, a group of adventurers had been hired by the merchants of Woodhelm to put an end to the bandit activity in the area. They had tracked the bandits to one of their sub base camps and were preparing to launch a surprise attack.

    Keth was busy working on improving his campfire cooking skills when the adventurers launched their attack. He had been experimenting with a new recipe using some of the spices he had stolen from the last caravan they had raided.

    The attack was sudden and fierce. The adventurers had caught the bandits off guard, and they were quickly overwhelmed. Keth, however, refused to abandon his cooking. He continued working on his cauldron, stirring the ingredients with a look of intense concentration on his face.

    As the battle raged on around him, Keth seemed oblivious to everything else. He was determined to perfect his dish, even as his fellow bandits fell one by one. The aroma of the cooking food mixed with the scent of blood and smoke, creating an eerie and unsettling atmosphere.

    Eventually, the adventurers made their way to Keth's cooking area. They were surprised to see him still working on his cauldron, seemingly oblivious to the danger around him. One of the adventurers approached him cautiously and asked him to surrender.

    Keth looked up, his eyes full of determination. He knew he was outnumbered, but he refused to give up his passion for cooking. He lifted a spoonful of his dish to his mouth and savored the flavor before uttering his final words.

    "I may be a bandit, but I am also a chef. And I will never surrender my love for cooking."

    With that, Keth collapsed to the ground, his spoon still in his hand. The adventurers could only watch in awe as the aroma of his dish filled the air. Despite everything, Keth had remained true to his passion until his dying breath.

    The Continued History of the Flametongue Sword

    The previous owner of the flametongue sword was a powerful wizard named Zoltan who had a reputation for being eccentric and unpredictable. He lived in a secluded tower on the outskirts of Woodhelm, where he spent most of his time experimenting with new magical spells and creating strange concoctions in his laboratory.

    One day, Zoltan was experimenting with a new spell that would allow him to summon fire from thin air. He had been working on the spell for weeks and was eager to test it out. He had everything he needed - the incantation, the magical reagents, and the perfect setting. The only thing missing was a powerful tool to focus his energy and direct the flames.

    As luck would have it, a traveling merchant had just arrived in town with a unique weapon - a flametongue sword. The merchant claimed that the sword had been forged by a legendary blacksmith and was imbued with magical properties that would allow it to channel flames.

    Zoltan was immediately intrigued by the sword and struck a deal with the merchant to acquire it. He paid a hefty sum of gold and took possession of the flametongue sword, eager to put it to the test.

    With the sword in hand, Zoltan returned to his tower and began the incantation for his new spell. As he spoke the words, flames began to gather around him, growing hotter and more intense with each passing moment.

    Then, he focused his energy through the sword, using its magical properties to direct the flames. The combination of the spell and the sword was incredibly powerful, and soon the entire tower was engulfed in flames.

    Zoltan had pushed the limits of his own magical abilities and had created a spell that was far more potent than he had ever imagined. The flametongue sword had proven to be the perfect tool to focus his energy and control the flames.

    From that day on, Zoltan kept the sword close by his side, using it to create incredible displays of fire magic and to defend himself against any threats that came his way. However, his eccentricities continued to grow, and he eventually disappeared from Woodhelm, leaving the flametongue sword behind.

    The sword changed hands several times over the years, but its legacy as a powerful tool of fire magic continued to grow. Eventually, it found its way into the hands of Maria, who used it to great effect in her own adventures.

    Session 10 Stories

    THE ORPHANAGE In the small town of Woodhelm, there was an orphanage where many children lived. Among them was a brave boy named Jack, who was known for his courage and determination.   One day, a group of adventurers came mysteriously from the basement of the orphanage. They were armed with swords, shields, and magic, and seemed to be on a mission. The other children were afraid, but Jack was curious.   When the adventurers saw Jack, they were taken aback. They didn't expect a young boy to be so brave. They offered him a gold piece to keep quiet, and Jack saw an opportunity.   He accepted the gold piece and told the adventurers he would keep their secret. However, he also had a plan to use the information to benefit the town. Jack knew that the adventurers had money and were ripe for pickpocketing.   Jack went to the villagers nearby and told them about the adventurers' presence and the gold they had. The villagers listened to Jack's information and kept a close eye on the movements of the adventurers.   The adventurers continued their daily activities around town, but they didn't realize that they were being watched. Jack's plan worked, and soon enough, some of the pickpockets in town managed to steal some of the adventurers' gold.   When the adventurers realized that their money was missing, they were furious. They accused the villagers of stealing from them, but no one was caught in the act. Jack watched from a distance and smiled, knowing that he had helped the town gain a little bit more wealth.   From that day on, Jack was known as the brave boy who outsmarted the adventurers.

    Sidequest Backdrops

    WHISKERS THE CAT Whiskers was a small black-and-white cat with big green eyes and a penchant for getting into trouble. He lived in a cozy little house on the edge of town with his owners, but he was always looking for new adventures to embark upon.   Whiskers loved to watch the birds that perched on the branches outside his window. One day, he decided to chase after them, leaping from the window sill and onto the branches of a nearby tree. But he misjudged his jump, and ended up getting stuck in the tree for hours until his owners finally found him and rescued him.   Whiskers also had a bit of a sweet tooth, and he couldn't resist the temptation of a plate of cookies left out on the counter. He managed to sneak onto the counter and grab a cookie, but he didn't realize that the plate was perched precariously on the edge. The plate tipped over, and Whiskers went tumbling down with it, covered in crumbs and icing.   Whiskers finally had a habit of getting a bit too enthusiastic when playing with his toys. One day, he was chasing after a ball and ended up knocking over a vase on a nearby table. The vase shattered, and Whiskers was covered in water and broken pieces of pottery. His owners were not pleased.   One sunny afternoon, Whiskers was out exploring the neighborhood when he stumbled upon a group of dogs who were barking and chasing after him. Whiskers tried to outrun them, but he soon found himself trapped in a tree.   Just as he thought all hope was lost, a little girl named Elsa came to his rescue. She climbed up the tree and gently coaxed Whiskers down to safety.   Whiskers loved Elsa because she was kind and gentle with him. When she rescued him from the dogs, she didn't scold him or punish him for getting into trouble. Instead, she comforted him and brought him home to safety. Whiskers could tell that Elsa genuinely cared about him, and he felt a deep sense of trust and affection for her.   In addition to her kindness, Whiskers also loved how playful and adventurous Elsa was. She would spend hours playing with him, tossing balls and chasing after him as he darted around the house. Whiskers felt like he could be himself around Elsa, and he loved the sense of freedom and joy that came with their playtime.   Finally, Whiskers loved Elsa's company. He was a social cat, and he enjoyed having someone to cuddle up with and share his space with. Whenever Elsa was around, he would purr contentedly and nuzzle up against her. To Whiskers, Elsa was more than just a friend - she was family.   For a while, everything was perfect. Elsa and Whiskers became fast friends, and Whiskers was happy to have a warm and loving home. But one day, Whiskers wandered off again and found himself lost in the town park. He meowed and meowed, but no one came to his rescue.   As he roamed through the town park, he came across a well. Curiosity getting the best of him, he jumped in to investigate. But the well was deep, and Whiskers couldn't climb back out.   For hours, Whiskers was trapped at the bottom of the well, meowing for help but no one came. That is, until a group of Fire Newts discovered him. They were strange creatures, with bright red skin and glowing eyes. They captured Whiskers and took him to their underground lair.   Whiskers was absolutely terrified when he was captured by the Fire Newts. The strange, glowing-eyed creatures were unlike anything he had ever seen before, and their underground lair was dark and eerie. Whiskers felt like he was a long way from home, and he didn't know how he was going to escape.   At first, Whiskers tried to put on a brave face. He hissed and clawed at the Fire Newts, hoping to scare them off or find a way to escape. But as time went on, he began to feel more and more hopeless. He meowed and cried for help, but no one came.   The Fire Newts didn't treat Whiskers poorly, exactly, but they didn't seem to understand that he was a beloved pet. They treated him like any other creature they had captured, with little regard for his well-being or his emotional state. This made Whiskers feel even more alone and scared.   Whiskers was terrified. He had never been so far from home, and he didn't know how he would ever escape. But just when all seemed lost, a group of adventurers stumbled upon the Fire Newt lair.   The adventurers fought bravely against the Fire Newts, and after a fierce battle, they managed to rescue Whiskers. When the adventurers finally rescued Whiskers from the Fire Newts, he was overjoyed. He clung to them tightly, his little heart racing with relief and happiness. The little cat was overjoyed to be reunited with Elsa, who had been searching for him everywhere.   From then on, Whiskers was careful to stay close to Elsa and not get into trouble. He learned that sometimes the most exciting adventures were the ones that took place right at home, surrounded by those who loved and cared for him.   FRANK NOLAN THE BALDING MAN Frank Nolan had always been self-conscious about his bald head. He had tried everything from wigs to hair implants, but nothing seemed to work. As he approached his mid-40s, his baldness became more apparent, and he felt like he was losing his youth and vitality.   Frank Nolan walked into the apothecary shop in Woodhelm, looking for any kind of remedy to his baldness. The smell of herbs and spices filled his nostrils, and he felt a sense of hopelessness wash over him. He had tried every potion and tonic that the shopkeeper had recommended, but none of them had worked. He approached the counter and asked the apothecary if he knew of any new remedies that could help him regrow his hair.   The apothecary, an elderly man with a kind face and a white beard, listened to Frank's request with a sympathetic ear. "I'm sorry, my dear boy," he said, "but I'm afraid there's no cure for baldness. It's a natural part of aging, and there's nothing you can do to stop it."   Frank was frustrated. He had heard the same thing from countless other experts, but he refused to believe that there was no solution. "But there has to be something," he protested. "I can't just accept that I'm going to be bald for the rest of my life."   The apothecary nodded knowingly. "I understand how you feel," he said. "But sometimes, we have to accept the things we cannot change. Baldness is nothing to be ashamed of, my boy. It's a part of who you are, and you should embrace it."   Frank wasn't convinced. He had spent too many years trying to hide his baldness and had become obsessed with finding a cure. But as he left the apothecary shop and walked back to his bakery, he couldn't help but think about the old man's words. Maybe he needed to learn to accept himself for who he was, baldness and all. It was a difficult thought to swallow, but maybe it was the only way forward.   However, one day, Frank was reading an ancient tome about natural remedies when he stumbled upon a passage that talked about a mysterious substance called black root. The book claimed that black root had the power to regrow hair on a person's head, no matter how bald they were. Intrigued by the possibility of regaining his lost hair, Frank decided to investigate this further.   Frank learned that black root was a rare and elusive substance that could only be found in the deepest and most dangerous parts of the forest. He also learned that black root was fiercely guarded by trolls who lived in the forest. The trolls were known to be hostile to outsiders and would attack anyone who dared to enter their territory.   Frank became obsessed with the idea of finding black root and regrowing his hair. He spent all his time researching, planning, and strategizing. He even started neglecting his business, a small but successful bakery in the town of Woodhelm, causing him to fall into debt. His friends and family tried to talk him out of his obsession, but Frank wouldn't listen. He was determined to find black root at any cost.   One day, Frank overheard a group of adventurers talking about their latest quest to explore the forest and collect will-o-wisp essence. Frank saw an opportunity to achieve his goal and approached the adventurers. He offered to pay them a large sum of gold and a handful of potions if they would help him find black root. The adventurers were skeptical at first, but Frank's offer was too good to pass up, and they agreed to help him.   ORIGINS OF THE FLAMETONGUE LONGSWORD In the town of Woodhelm, there lived an eccentric pastry chef named Oswald Butterfield. Oswald was renowned throughout Eberron for his delectable pastries, cakes, and bread. He had won numerous awards, and his shop was always packed with customers eager to try his latest creation.   However, Oswald was not content with just being a great pastry chef. He was always on the lookout for ways to improve his craft, and one day he stumbled upon a magical flametongue longsword. The sword had been owned by a powerful wizard who had recently passed away, and it was being sold at an auction in the nearby town of Sharn.   Oswald knew that he had to have the sword. He was convinced that the sword's magical flames would allow him to melt and clarify butter faster than any other method. So, he set off for Sharn, determined to win the sword at the auction.   The bidding for the sword was fierce, with many powerful wizards and warriors vying for it. But Oswald was not deterred. He knew that he had to have the sword, no matter what the cost.   Finally, after hours of bidding, the auctioneer declared Oswald the winner. The pastry chef was overjoyed as he clutched the flametongue longsword in his hands. He couldn't wait to get back to Woodhelm and start clarifying butter with his new magical tool.   But as Oswald made his way back to Woodhelm, he began to notice strange things happening. The sword seemed to be talking to him, whispering in his ear. At first, Oswald tried to ignore it, but the whispers grew louder and more insistent.   Finally, Oswald gave in and asked the sword what it wanted. To his surprise, the sword replied, "I want you to use me for something more than clarifying butter. I have powers that go far beyond that."   Oswald was taken aback by the sword's words. He had never considered using the sword for anything other than his pastry-making. But as he thought about it, he realized that the sword was right. He could use its powers for so much more.   And so, Oswald set out on a new adventure, using the magical flametongue longsword to battle monsters and other evils that threatened the people of Woodhelm. The sword proved to be a powerful ally, and Oswald became known throughout Eberron as a hero.   But even with all of his new adventures, Oswald never forgot his love of pastry-making. And whenever he needed to melt or clarify butter, he would simply utter the activation word "buttercup," and the flametongue longsword would come to life, its magical flames melting the butter in seconds.   Years later, when Oswald passed away, the sword was passed down to his apprentice, a young pastry chef named Maria. And just like Oswald, Maria used the sword for more than just pastry-making, becoming a hero in her own right and continuing Oswald's legacy of using the magical flametongue longsword for good.   After Oswald's passing, Maria continued to use the magical flametongue longsword to create delectable pastries and to protect the town of Woodhelm. She had learned all of Oswald's recipes and had even developed some of her own, which quickly became popular among the town's residents.   Maria had also become quite skilled at using the sword's powers for fighting, just like Oswald had been. She had even ventured out of Woodhelm to help other towns and cities that were being threatened by monsters and other dangers. Everywhere she went, people were amazed by her swordsmanship and her pastries.   One day, while Maria was visiting a nearby town, she came across an unusual event. The town was hosting an arm wrestling competition, and the prize was a magical sword. Maria was intrigued and decided to enter the competition.   The competition was fierce, and Maria found herself up against some of the strongest and toughest people she had ever seen. But she was determined to win the prize, which she believed could be useful in her battles against monsters.   After several grueling matches, Maria found herself facing the reigning champion, a hulking brute of a man with arms as thick as tree trunks. The crowd cheered as the two contestants locked hands and began to push and pull against each other.   It was a close match, but in the end, Maria emerged victorious. The crowd erupted in cheers as she was presented with the prize: a magical sword with the activation word of "thunderbolt." Maria was thrilled with her new weapon, but she couldn't help feeling a pang of sadness as she thought of Oswald's magical flametongue longsword, which had been her mentor's pride and joy.   As she was leaving the town, Maria heard a commotion coming from a nearby alley. She cautiously approached and saw a group of thugs surrounding a young girl. Without hesitation, Maria drew her new sword and rushed to the girl's aid.   The thugs were no match for Maria's swordsmanship, and they quickly fled the scene. Maria helped the young girl to her feet and asked if she was okay. The girl thanked Maria and explained that she had been on her way home from the market when the thugs had attacked her.   Feeling a kinship with the girl, Maria decided to give her Oswald's flametongue to her as a gift. The girl was overwhelmed with gratitude and promised to use the sword to protect herself and others in need.   And so, the magical sword that Maria had won in the arm wrestling competition was passed on to a new owner, just like Oswald's magical flametongue longsword had been passed on to Maria. It would go on to serve many other heroes in their battles against monsters and other dangers, becoming a legend in its own right.   As Maria continued to travel and fight against monsters, the legend of the magical sword she had given away spread throughout the land. People began to call it the "Sword of Generosity," and stories were told of its incredible power and the selfless act that had led to its ownership by the young girl.   Meanwhile, back in Woodhelm, the town's leaders were preparing to hold their first-ever arm wrestling championship. They had been inspired by the stories of Maria's victory in the competition she had stumbled upon, and they wanted to hold a similar event in their own town.   As they were making preparations, one of the town's residents came forward with a proposition. He was a wealthy merchant who had acquired the legendary "Sword of Generosity" and wanted to offer it as a prize for the arm wrestling championship.   The town's leaders were shocked but also excited at the prospect of having such a valuable and powerful weapon as the prize for their tournament. They quickly agreed to the merchant's proposal and set about spreading the word of the competition.   As the day of the championship approached, the town became abuzz with excitement. People from all over the land came to watch the spectacle, and the competition was fierce. There were many close matches, with competitors straining against each other, sweat pouring down their faces as they vied for victory.   Finally, the last two contestants stood face to face, hands clasped together in the center of the arena. One was a massive brute of a man, his muscles enhanced by specialized cybernetics. The other was a frost dragonborn paladin, his face contorted in determination as he used every ounce of his strength to hold his opponent at bay.   The crowd was on the edge of their seats as the two men battled it out. Suddenly, the dragonborn let out a mighty roar, and pinned his opponent onto the ground. The crowd erupted into cheers as the dragonborn was declared the winner of the championship.   As the victor stepped forward to claim his prize, the merchant stepped forward and presented him with the "Sword of Generosity." The dragonborn was amazed at the weapon's power and felt humbled by the act of generosity that had led to its ownership.   And so, the "Sword of Generosity" had found a new home, once again donated as a prize for an arm wrestling championship. The legend of its power and the selfless acts that had led to its ownership would continue to be told for generations to come, inspiring others to acts of bravery and generosity.   ARM WRESTLING?!? In the town of Woodhelm, nestled deep in the heart of the Dragonwood, there was an annual wrestling competition that drew crowds from all over the continent. This year's event promised to be more exciting than ever, as it would feature a new twist: competitors would be tied at the arms throughout the entire match.   One of the competitors was a young woman named Lysandra, who had been training for this event for months. She was determined to win the prize money so that she could finally leave her small village and see the world. Lysandra had always been interested in wrestling, but it wasn't until she met a handsome stranger named Marcus that her passion for the sport truly ignited.   Marcus was also a competitor in the wrestling competition. He was tall, muscular, and had a sharp wit that always kept Lysandra on her toes. Despite their fierce rivalry on the mat, there was a spark between them that neither could deny. They began to spend more and more time together, discussing their training techniques and sharing stories about their lives.   As the day of the competition approached, Lysandra and Marcus found themselves growing closer and closer. They would steal moments away from their training sessions to share a kiss or a laugh, and their arms would linger a little longer than necessary whenever they were tied together for practice.   On the day of the competition, the tension in the air was palpable. The competitors were all tied at the arms, and the crowd was cheering them on as they grappled and struggled for dominance. Lysandra and Marcus faced off against each other in the semi-final round, their bodies glistening with sweat as they fought for the prize.   Despite their mutual attraction, both Lysandra and Marcus were determined to win. They pushed themselves harder than they ever had before, their bodies straining with effort as they grappled and tumbled across the mat.   In the end, it was Lysandra who emerged victorious, her arms raised in triumph as the crowd roared with approval. As she stood there, panting and exhausted, Marcus approached her with a look of admiration in his eyes.   "Congratulations," he said, his voice low and husky. "You deserved to win."   Lysandra smiled at him, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and desire. "Thank you," she said. "But I couldn't have done it without you."   Marcus took her hand and drew her close, their bodies pressed together as they gazed into each other's eyes. And in that moment, with the cheers of the crowd ringing in their ears, Lysandra and Marcus shared a kiss that would forever cement their love for each other.   MOON PEPPER COMPETITION Julliana Trakas was a half-elf with a passion for cooking. She had inherited her love for food from her mother, who was an accomplished chef in the elven community. Julliana had always dreamed of opening her own restaurant, and after years of hard work and saving, she finally achieved her goal. She became the proprietor of the Obelisk Hotel in the town of Woodhelm, a small community nestled deep within the Dragoonwood.   Julliana was known throughout the town for her delicious dishes, and her restaurant quickly became a popular spot for locals and visitors alike. One day, while perusing the local newspaper, she came across an advertisement for a cooking competition at the Fire in the Hole Tavern. The competition was being hosted by the owner, Gus Williby, who was looking for the best local specialty dish to add to his menu.   Julliana was intrigued by the competition, but there was a catch. Gus Williby wanted the contestants to use a local ingredient that was notoriously difficult to find - Moon Peppers. These small, fiery peppers grew only on top of hills, and bloomed only in full moonlight and were coveted by chefs for their unique flavor. Julliana knew that she had to get her hands on some if she wanted to compete.   She had heard that a group of adventurers were passing through Woodhelm, so she approached them with a proposition. In exchange for helping her locate the Moon Peppers, she would provide them with a free stay at her hotel and a feast of her best dishes. The adventurers, always up for a challenge, agreed to help her out.   VLORG THE ORC Vlorg the Orc had always been a curious alchemist, fascinated with the mysteries of the mind and the power of memory. For years, he had been conducting experiments in secret, using a potent blend of herbs and chemicals to transfer the memories of individual townspeople and place them into an artificial core in order to make construct warfighters that had better strategies during combat.   At first, he had simply been curious about the possibilities of such technology - with all these people disappearing in town, could he create a network of spies and informants, with his changeling friends, hidden in plain sight among the townspeople? But as he delved deeper into his experiments, Vlorg began to see the potential for something far more sinister.   He realized that by transferring the memories of those he placed into the artificial cores, he could effectively erase their identities instead and was able to control them as he pleased. They would become little more than puppets, to be used and discarded at his whim as he moved them around the continent of Khorvaire.   Vlorg also learned that if he went too far and tried to extract the memories of the townspeople completely, that their entire bodies would become completely distorted and would become abominations of nature. Some of these townspeople he hid within the town itself, striking a deal with fire newts to find a way to safely feed these distortions of sapient species.   For a time, Vlorg wrestled with the ethical implications of his experiments. He knew that what he was doing was wrong - that he was violating the basic rights and freedoms of the townspeople he was experimenting on.   But as the pressures of his work and the looming threat of discovery began to weigh on him, Vlorg found himself justifying his actions. He told himself that he was doing what was necessary to protect his changeling spies and further his own goals - that the sacrifice of a few individuals was a small price to pay for the greater good.   It wasn't until he received a surprise visit from an old friend that Vlorg began to see things differently. The friend was a wise old goblin, a former alchemist who had retired to a peaceful life in the countryside.   At first, Vlorg was reluctant to share his experiments with the goblin. He feared that the old alchemist would judge him harshly, or worse - turn him in to the authorities.   But as he listened to the goblin's stories and insights, Vlorg began to realize just how far he had strayed from his own values. He saw that his experiments were not only unethical, but also fundamentally flawed - that the memories he had wiped away could never truly be replaced, and that the artificial cores were nothing more than a cheap imitation of the human soul.   With a heavy heart, Vlorg made the difficult decision that he must continue on with his research as he felt the need to continue to protect the changelings that have been so despised in this world and at the same time provide the individuals that lost all of their memories a place to live out the rest of their lives.   In the end, he found a secluded remote village near Shaarat Kol, where the people were few and far between. There, he used his alchemical skills to build a new community, populated entirely by those whose memories he had wiped away. Vlorg then used his changeling connections within the church of the silver flame and town guards of Woodhelm plus his knowledge of the black market of Shaarat Kol to transport the individuals in secret to this new village.   It wasn't a perfect solution, and Vlorg knew that he could never truly make up for what he had done. But as he watched the people of the village go about their lives, free from the constraints of their past, Vlorg knew that he had finally found a way to live with himself and his actions.   His research had changed to try to maintain the memories of the townspeople and was seemingly an impossible task. However, one fateful day, a group of adventurers stumbled upon his lab and, mistaking it for a hideout of some sort, destroyed everything in sight. Vlorg was devastated. All of his research, all of his hard work, gone in an instant.   Filled with anger and a burning desire for revenge, Vlorg began to scheme. He knew he couldn't take on the adventurers alone, but he also knew that he had a powerful weapon at his disposal: his network of Changeling spies within the town.   Over the years, Vlorg had carefully cultivated relationships with several Changelings living in Woodhelm. He had promised them safety and protection in exchange for their services as informants, and they had proven to be invaluable in gathering information about the goings-on in the town.   Now, Vlorg reached out to his network once again. He needed to know everything there was to know about the adventurers who had destroyed his lab. Their names, their strengths and weaknesses, their plans - anything that could give him an edge.   The Changelings did not disappoint. They scoured the town for information, posing as innocent bystanders and gathering intel from taverns, marketplaces, and other public places. They even managed to sneak around the adventurer's hotel room and eavesdrop on their conversations.   Slowly but surely, Vlorg began to piece together a plan. He knew that the adventurers were trying to burn time while their artificer, Wabnuc constructed a fake dragonshard gem for a heist at the Fire Spire. As a result he came up with two moves. Vlorg had one of his contacts inform Parack that someone was intending to swipe some of his gems and that he should plan accordingly. He then placed a false post on the adventurer's guild bulletin board in the hope that they would accept the quest and would fall into his trap.
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    Character
    World
    Eberron's Darkest Secrets
    Author
    Yikghigi
    Publication Date
    30 Sep, 2022
    Creation Date
    30 Sep, 2022
    Last Update Date
    30 Sep, 2022
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    Public
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