Doomsday-Prophyt

It has been 50 years to the day since the sentient creature who claimed to be a spirit emissary of Rillifane Rallathil began to instruct you in the ways of nature. In the chaos of the Faelands’ collapse and the loss of your family, you never questioned the creature. After all, it provided you with the means to commune with nature, find shelter, and survive. Under Orthren’s tutelage, you have grown at one with the Forest of Thorns and been protected from the madness that has engulfed the land in the centuries following the silence of the gods. At least, that’s what you remember the elders of your former enclave telling you as

When the brave (or foolish) missionary from Artamark came to your home settlement of Tyr-Lysia several years ago, he captivated your mind with tales of the gods of old. Unlike the spirits of animals and the earth taught by the Goliath shamans, the gods had flaws and desires like any other humanoid. Since then, you’ve made frequent trips to the mostly-human settlement to learn more. Father Felix was not a young man in those first days, and his age has definitely begun to catch up with him. Just yesterday, he sent a very frightened messenger to summon to to his home, perhaps for the last time. “A [name], my son,” the elderly F

Many many moons ago, you've lost track of how many now, you left your tribe in the Dragonsmaw Mountains. The passage of time along with the influence of encroaching settlements of humans was shrinking their seasonal trek year after year. When you decided to finally strike out on your own, the tribal elders had begun to speak of settling the tribe itself before all the good land was taken. You felt there was no glory in becoming a farmer, and many of the older warriors thought the same, however they had families to care for and would follow the tribe, whatever the decision the Elders made. Thus, you set out with nothing but your wits, weapon,

You left yours and your father’s house early that morning. Your home was outside of town, and you didn’t want your father to mourn you leaving to join the town guard, his only remaining family. It is shortly after sunrise when you arrive at the town guardhouse to apply for membership in the town guard and Captain Gulley has only just arrived to open it up for the day. You take a deep breath and eagerly approach. Your arrival startles the captain, as he has only just sat down with a hot cup of dark liquid you think might be tea. “Oh! Er…” he says. “Isabell. What are you doing here so early? Something wrong a

You have been called before the masters of Pyn’s Rise Mountain Monastery, your home for the last few years. There have been whispers recently that you are ready for the trials, ready to become a full-fledged monk. You hope the whispers are correct as you make your way to the mountain peak. The air is chilly. The monastery wraps around the upper reaches of the mountain, above most of the clouds. The monks believe this brings them closer to Pyn’s warmth. As you pass through the archway leading to the small plateau of the masters [Perception check DC 10] You see the four masters seated a short distance ahead, facing you, [Success] ev

Recommended races: Human Half-orc Halfling Goliath (other races are considered rare, but still viable options) Nonexistent races: Aarakocra Underdark races (drow, duergar, svirfneblin) Everyone is starting at Level “0” as an NPC class Recommended NPC class: Commoner (MM 345) for base stats Give a +2 to your intended heroic class’s recommended primary ability score, +1 to the recommended secondary ability score. Add racial bonuses, languages, proficiencies, abilities. Ignore any racial spells (for now). Proficiency bonus +2 HD 1d8 (take the average - 5 - if under a 4) Sanity Score - 3d6, reroll 1s If you're intending to pl

Commander Yarayn entered the forward lounge early in the morning, nursing a slight headache and generally acting grumpy. He shuffled over towards one of the food replicators and mumbled something unintelligible at it. The computer voice said in its gender neutral voice, "Unable to comply. Please repeat instructions in one of the 783,422.3 languages programmed into the computer database to continue." Vol just glared tiredly at the machine. In the forward lounge that morning was Doctor Jn'kuk, reviewing something on his PADD and having a morning croissant. He smelt of bread himself, though it was slightly less intense than before. He glanced up

She is stressed. I am stressed. She can cope. I have no coping mechanisms in place, because anxiety is new. She yelled at me, insinuated I don't love her. I know these feelings aren't normal; you don't have to tell me. I know I need to get help for myself; you don't have to tell me. I'm sorry. I walk around the house, a shell of myself. No one here to bear witness to my emptiness. I fight off the tears, taking every ounce of my will. Men aren't supposed to cry. I know I smile and make others laugh; you don't have to remind me. I know I've disappointed you before; you don't have to remind me. I'm sorry. I've cancelled something