Bungeonsandbagons - I Keep All The Stuff Here That I Like

Adventure:  Rebels in the Rimebough 

No matter how cold the north wind blows, the pain of old injustice burns hotter. 

Setup: The Frontier kingdom of Volskolt sits on the edge of a vast wilderness, the last bastion of so called civilization against the vast territories where no sovereign save winter can rule. Given that the kingdom was only established and its populace converted to the dominant faith less than two centuries ago most on the continent regard the Volskoltans to be little more than backwater heathens, feigning piety in polite company while practicing barbaric rituals while at home. This attitude is reflected by the urban Volskoltan population towards their rural neighbors, and by those rural neighbors towards the migratory tribes that live in the hinterlands. 

It is this tension that sits at the heart of the kigndom’s current troubles, as the elders among their people remember that their now sedate nobles came to their land as militant holy orders seeking to crusade against their heathen neighbors, burning what villages they did not take for their own and building stout stone walls as a sign of their dominance. While the elites now consider themselves one people with the “common Volskoltan”, few who keep to the old ways have forgiven them for the bloodshed, or the merciless suppression of their ancestral rites in favor of the continental faith. 

And so we come to the crossroads of fate, nearly two hundred years of injustice and resentment reaching a boiling point during the coldest winter in generations. Rebels gather their power, giants stir in the mountains, and the destiny of a kingdom may hinge on a single life. 

Adventure Hooks: 

After rescuing a waylaid caravan of holyfolk out in the hinterlands, the party arrives in a village just in time to interupt a group of villagers being burned alive in their home by a priest and his mob. Though there is no secular law against worshiping other gods in the kingdom, the church takes folk worshiping both the new and ancesteral ways as the greatest affront. Now the party must decide between preserving their in with the church and doing the right thing and saving the townsfolk from a mob that could just as easily turn on them.  

The party is called together by noble allies who have become aware of a grim secret. The young heir to the throne of Volskolt has been kidnapped while hunting near the Rimebough forest. Some ready themselves for ransom, while others cultists are behind the dead, others are worried that political dissidents are behind these actions and expect him to be used against the royal family some time soon. All that matters now is that the boy be returned home unharmed, a deed that will require the party to brave the harshest wilderness, but will see them royally rewarded. 

While everything else is happening, a normally sedate clan of giants have decided to start marauding down into civilized lands.  Is this mere chance? A plot by a faction of the Rimebough rebels? or do these giants answer the call of something even more ancient? 

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OP: When demonstrating dance moves, it's crucial to execute the actions precisely. (cr 爵士舞柳柳老师)

Art by Tiffany "arty" Boother This month, truth compels me to write four subclasses. Every single one of them are completely new, and I'm polishing up the final one as we speak. This first subclass, the Spelleater (gmbinder doc here) takes a theme that is notoriously hard to execute (good at beating up wizards) and does as much as it can to actualise that idea: its benefits still completely deck most spellcasters, but they also work reasonably well against pretty much any foe there is. Antimagic Vigor is essentially the opposite of a barbarian rage (or rune knight's hill rune), and gives you a combat's worth of survival and ultra high saving throws vs magic. Spell Drain is my favorite part of it. You cause a bunch of creatures to succeed on a save against a spell being cast - but the spell can be from either friend or foe! Now you can work in tandem with other spellcasters to shape your allies' spells safely round the party, Or, you can just completely screw a lich over. Either way, you get to absorb the magic into your sword, and then unleash it the next time you attack. It's a really nice feature that makes them fantastic against spellcasters while still being handy elsewhere!

What are some ttrpg's on your game wish list? Ones that you'd want to play or plan to play (or maybe don't have time to). also as a side note your love for ttrpg's fills me with a lot of joy and reminds me why they're so special! : )

Inevitable: COWBOY KNIGHTS TRAGEDY this is number one i wanna play this so bad with a crew who will watch a few anti-westerns and arthurian films beforehand and fully commit to the tragedy aspect (big bold decisions if you know it ends in tragedy!) oh my god this specific flavor of game appeals to me a little too specifically

some kind of horror game. VTM, Curse of Strahd, Shadow of the Demon Lord, Call of Cthulhu, whatever lends itself to horror well. the horror genre is one of my favorites and i would so be down to play some good horror!!

MASKS as a PC!

and always more dnd.

uhhh I'm sure there would be other things but I don't know many ttrpgs off the top of my head. quite like ttrpgs. would very much like to play more. especially with a group of artists who will post dodoles and songs that remind them of characters and talk about them throughout the week and do psychological deep dives and theorize about the story and themes and and and

The Pantheon Domain - A 5E Cleric Subclass Homebrew. For the cleric whose faith is as fickle as the gods themselves. Great for roguelite lovers. You’ll have to figure out what you can do with the tools at your disposal every day. Links in reblog!

Image source This was the first subclass I ever made and I'm stilllll tinkering with the thing - it's, fittingly, stuck in a time loop of rewrites.

Have a great week!

Wilderness: Roads of the Coldhearted

Your party presses through the veil of sleet, and every step you take feels like a struggle. You are fighting the very wind itself, and the frost covered bones and crumbling ruins you’ve passed serve to remind you that standing still in such weather is a death sentance. How did you get here? What need could be so great as to climb these perilous peeks? The hole in your memory shocks you enough that you nearly lose your friends around a bend in the path. Catching up to them, you see it, battlements only visable against the rock and the migrane colored sky by their sheer scale.   A castle, and perhaps a chance to get out of the cold you’ve been trapped in for so long. 

Setup:  There are many dread domains, each one a nightmare prison built to contain a great evil. This one is a labyrinthian tangle of pathways through a jagged mountainside, reflecting the final hours of a bloodthirsty margrave who spent hours fighting though a winter storm to return home, only to discover that all his cruelty had been in vain. 

Sorrow, war, and misfortune are the ruling elements here, along with the horror of exposure and a chilling wind that hunts the party with it’s own malicious will. 

Challenges & Complications: 

Wretched beasts ride the skies of this domain, striking without warning or circling like stormbitten buzzards. The remnants of soldiers mummified by the cold shamble their way through patrols or wait in ambush, and always return to their station after some time after their clashes with the party. Those that wear tattered officer’s uniform even manage to remember previous encounters, and will plan their defenses accordingly. 

Leaving the domain will require the party to trace a shifting maze of claustrophobic caverns, icy canyons, crumbling bridges and narrow switchbacks that what. as the “roads” of this domain. They possess their own sinister intelligence, seeming to know the exact right time to close or fail and drop the party into a new form of peril.  Scaps of maps may be found hidden along the road like treasure, but these too are full of misdirections, showing no true path and seemingly only able to agree that the mountains they depict are called “The Sorrows”. 

The castle in the heart of the ragged web of pathways is no shelter from the blizzard, as the cold winds pour from its open windows and echo through it’s echoing halls. This fortress is home to many terrible beasts, none more so than a screaming windstorm known as the Resounding Agony, which prowls the domain the way a shark might a reef. While not exactly intelligent, it will harry interlopers by alerting their pursuers, causing avalanches, and causing maddening fatigue. 

Sorrowsworn and other shadowfell beats are drawn to the Roads of the coldhearted en-masse, and can frequently be seen clashing with the soldiers. This is quite unusual for a dread domain, but whatever unseen architect is at work here seems to allow it. 

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More Non-Monetary Rewards

People seemed to like the previous list, so I thought I’d make some more.

Honorary Titles (courtesy of Vlad)

Free passage aboard any vessel in the fleet

A scroll of any spell the court wizard can cast

A manual outlining the fundamentals of the local language

A portion of land with a fixer-upper of a keep

The finest hound from the kennels

A large, unidentified, jewel encrusted egg

The captain of the guard as a retainer

A map detailing the location of a mythic treasure

The book of vile darkness

A willow extract that cures headaches

A book of coupons (near expiry)

My latest Terrible* DnD Campaign idea:

Scaling Hard "Nuzlocke" Mode.

We're gonna take the entire XP mechanic and through it out the fucking window.

Everyone starts at level one, but they make a backup character at the next level. They play that first character at level one until shit gets too hard and they die. No rezzes. Next available opportunity, bring in the backup level two character. Player makes a new backup, at level three.

So on, so forth.

The only way to level up is to die. The core goals/challenges are:

be the lowest level character to make it to the end of the campaign

get to explore a whole lot more classes and characters than you would normally

conversely, deal with the gritty reality of how dangerous this life of adventure is as so many of your party keeps falling

meta-wise, built in scaling system for less skilled players: die a lot? wind up stronger and stronger more quickly to balance it out

something something Ship Of Theseus adventurers guild?

Mystery: Butcher in the Backwoods

There’s a reason everyone everyone goes to bed so early out in the country. 

Adventure Hooks: 

The party has come to the small village of Tolthurt, perhaps because they were traveling through the region with a caravan, or because their quest takes them to a dungeon in the nearby wilderness.  After getting out of the rain and arranging lodging for the night ( Tolthurt is so small that it’s inn is more of a common room the party is welcome to lay their bedrolls out on), the party meets with Ralson Rollick, an over-the-hill bard who boasts a cheery attitude and a love of the minstrel’s trade despite never making it big. While they swap stories about their travels, Ralson takes a shine to the party, and hints he might’ve learned something that’ll be of interest to them, which he’ll tell them about once he’s sobered up in the morning.    

When the party awakes, they discover a crowd of villagers clustered around a body laying in the road. Half submerged in mud and blood, the victim has been heavily mauled, but is very clearly Ralson, robbed along with his life of his instruments, packs, and his purse.  Tolhurt’s Mayor insists that no one be allowed to leave until the killers are caught, as clearly Ralson was set upon by a group of attackers, which puts the party and their traveling companions as the primary suspects. 

Though regarded with suspicion, the publican at the commonroom insists she saw the party there all night, and on her word they’re allowed to attempt to prove their innocence. Asking the villagers about Ralson’s activities reveal he was in town for a few days claiming to need to rest from a long time on the road, while examining his body reveals it wasn’t blades he was savaged by, but claws and teeth. Clearly something more than petty banditry is going on here, which the party will obviously discover on the second night when their wagon and mounts mysteriously go missing, preventing them from easily leaving town. 

Setup: Raimus Rollick wasn’t just a minstrel, but an agent of the duke’s court, sent to investigate strange goings on in Tolthurt by his liege’s request. Through stealthy observation he discovered that ancestral enemies of the Duke’s family had survived a clash between their clans, and settled in Tolthurt to bide their time and lick their wounds. 

Said enemies (The Ibrerynne)  happened to be a family of werewolves, who in the intervening generations have expanded themselves into a pack, swaying key individuals such as the mayor with the promise of predatory power, while threatening others (like the stablemaster) with savage violence should their secret ever leak.  The Iberynne family themselves live near constantly in wolf form, dwelling in a tumbeldown ruin that they’ve made into their new “estate” and stewing in their decades long thoughts of revenge. Raimus found one of their noble seals in the mayor’s office (the Ibrerynne had been reaching out to old allies and needed someone to handle their mail), and put it, a coded letter to the duke, and his emblem of safe travel in the party’s bag before he was killed by the Ibrerynne following him. 

The mayor, having not yet received his marching orders from his half-feral masters, didn’t know who’d killed the minstrel or why, but knew he needed to defer blame. A good number of Tolthurt’s inhabitants don’t know anything about the werewolves in the forest, and his job was to keep it that way.  For their part, the Iberynne are finding the seal at any cost, and are cutting off hope of escape from the village one avenue at a time, will the party realize it before it’s too late? 

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