Roll 6d20 in order.
It's quick, it's easy, and it's a gamble. There's no bell curve buffering to protect you and while you might get a 16 to 20, you stand an equal chance of rolling 1 to 4.
It's stupid and fun. Godspeed.
I've said that rolling stats is an important part of character creation, but the actual process of rolling takes time. Not a lot, but in a high-lethality game where you're regularly making new characters (often mid-session) the time spent rolling stats can become a bottleneck.
I use matrix rolling to avoid that delay.
Normally when creating a character you roll 3d6 or 4d6 six times and move on. With matrix rolling you roll 36 times and place the values in a 6x6 grid (aka a matrix).
This gives you 12 possible stat lines to choose from, 6 vertical and 6 horizontal. Whenever you make a character, pick one of the 12 lines and cross it off. Then, when that character meets their horrible end, go back to the grid and pick one of the remaining lines to use in making your next character.
It takes a little extra time to generate the matrix when you start, but it's worth it to be able to jump back into the game faster after being dispatched messily.
This is what a "roll X in order" matrix looks like:
Here's an example of how it plays out. I rolled this grid:
(The last 14 is used by both lines. That's fine. Crossing a line off means you can't use that complete set of 6 numbers again. You can still use the individual numbers where different lines intersect.)
And so it goes until all 12 of your pre-rolled stat lines have been used, then you generate another grid's worth. (And wonder why your game is so incredibly lethal. Maybe it's you.)
Welcome back! This final prompt is:
"undeniable beauty in desolation"
Ice storms are an annual event around here. They're destructive as hell. Freezing rain that coats everything it touches in a glaze of ice. The extra weight breaks trees and pulls down power lines. The ice covering every flat surface makes roads impassable and footpaths a hazard. But when the sun comes out and sparkles through the branches of the trees that are still standing and makes the world look like it's plated in silver, it's still beautiful.
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"deep water, cisterns, and the harvest"
Fall is my favorite time of year. The weather's beautiful, leaves are changing color, and there's all the harvest time celebrations. I try to make it up north to the Lakes at least once during the season each year. When I was little it was Lake Huron and we'd camp and fish for salmon. The past few years it's been Lake Michigan for rock hunting. Standing at the edge of a body of water that huge is peaceful in a way that's hard to describe. A view of nothing but water across the entire horizon. It's beautiful enough to make you forget just how many ships and people the Lakes have swallowed over the centuries.
Need a stuffed critter for a curio cabinet, parlor decor, or just general odd treasure? I got you covered.
Quality (d36)
11 There's no hint this was ever an animalHow are they posed? (d66)
11 Head trophy mountAnimals (d666)
111 AardvarkA holy cypress, the eldest tree in a sacred grove, stands a short walk off the road. Over the centuries generations of travelers and locals have driven a fortune of coins into the trunk and lower branches for luck. Its bole glimmers in the sunlight that filters through the canopy, more metal than wood. Below the soil its roots are carved with sigils that can still be made out, if the leaf litter is cleared away and one takes the time to decipher the healed scars left on the bark.
The coin tree is studded with 7000 GP worth of coins in mixed currencies. They can be retrieved if you spend a month prying them out of the wood, or the raw metal can be collected from the ashes if you cut the tree down and burn it.
The tree is a fairly famous shrine. Locals and travelers passing by will attack anyone defacing it.
Killing the tree will wake and free the malicious entity it was imprisoning. The entity will feel indebted to whoever releases it and will try to fulfill one minor wish. If you don't use the wish immediately, it will follow you until you do. If you don't use the wish within a month, the entity will become aggressive and start trying to force you to wish so it can discharge its debt.
The wish will be fulfilled in the spirit it's intended, no monkey's paws.
Once the wish is granted and the entity is completely freed it will roam, spreading chaos and indiscriminately slaughtering anything in its path. There's a good chance it will come after the ones who released it because they know what it is and where it came from.
Amorphous shadow form. 8 HD, gains 1 HD with each kill. Fear gaze attack, grappling tentacles, 1d12 slashing attack. 3 attacks per turn, +5 to hit, move 50'.
The entity can be sealed away by creating a new holy tree. The party must discover the sigils carved into the roots of the original tree, replicate them on another living tree, and force (or trick) the entity to touch it. As soon as the entity touches the holy tree it will be safely imprisoned again.
A gnarled, knotty hawthorn growing on the shore of a perfectly clear spring. Its branches are tied with bright ribbons and strips of cloth, left as offerings for healing or charms against misfortune.
Once a month you can cure a wound or lift a curse by leaving an offering on the tree. Tie a piece of cloth onto a branch and prick a finger on one of the thorns (1d4 damage). By the end of the next day you'll be healed.
If you can remove one of the cloths without being pricked by any thorns (DEX save), it will act as an amulet against whatever misery it was offered to cure. Its power lasts for a month once removed from the tree and will protect its bearer three times. It visibly wears and becomes tattered as it ages or is used.
Protects Against:
Damaging the tree in any way will unleash the stored curses on the vandals, one after another. Gain a new random curse each month. The curses stack and cannot be removed with offerings to the tree.
A massive hollow oak bound in iron bands and chains to keep the sundered trunk from splitting further and falling to pieces. A thick ring of black iron is set in the earth five feet out from the trunk and supports a simple iron post and chain fence that circles the tree to keep people back. The townsfolk have many conflicting stories about the tree but they all agree that you don't go there at night, don't touch the iron, and if something calls to you from within the hollow, don't answer.
The grove where the iron-bound oak grows is an hour walk outside of town. It and the surrounding woods are peaceful, but subtly wrong. There are no wild animals within a quarter mile of the tree. Domesticated animals will refuse to go beneath the oak's branches.
Passing beyond the iron chain and going into the trunk has a chance of transporting you to another plane or an alternate reality.
Day 36
Night 51
Dusk or Dawn 76
Full or New moon 100 (Bon voyage!)
Returning through the tree is possible only on the full and new moons. (Roll d% under 3 to return.)
Sometimes things emerge from the tree and are trapped inside the circle of the chain fence. They will ask anyone present to help them get out. Mortals who answer or speak to them are enthralled (WIS save) and forced to switch places with them inside the tree.
Maintaining the iron bands and fence circle is a traditional part of the town's summer festival. The ritual work is done at high noon on the solstice and has been performed faithfully every year for as long as anyone can remember. The idea of not inspecting the tree or even delaying the festival by a day is horrifying to the townsfolk, though none of them are able to explain exactly why.
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"cool nights, bonfires, and the full moon"
Campfires are a family tradition. I learned how to build, light, keep, and safely extinguish fires almost as soon as I was big enough to carry a bucket of water. Growing up we had a dug-in fire circle in the backyard that we used constantly. Build a fire, let it burn down and cook dinner over the coals, then build it back up at sunset and relax while watching the bats fly. I miss it now that I've moved away. There's no place to responsibly light and feed a fire around here.
Populations affected by a Mean Sucker infestation are blank and listless, exhausted by the over-consumption of their emotions. Governments consider the apathy and lack of desire to upset the status quo extremely convenient and regularly import Mean Suckers from elsewhere in attempts to create artificial infestations and bolster their power.
Fortunately Mean Suckers are delicate and easily dispatched, as long as you can muster the energy to swing something heavy at them. It's a shame they're so cute.
Note: Mean Sucker blood is only a powerful euphoric after proper processing. Don't consume it raw.
d4s need more love. They're delightful, solid dice and the best way to generate probabilities in 25% intervals. Yet they seem to be everyone's least favorite dice for two main reasons:
1) They're stabby,
This is a feature, not a bug.
2) They don't roll well.
I won't deny it. The d4's combo of acutely-angled edges and a low center of gravity prevents it from tumbling nicely when thrown in a normal roll, so you end up with that disappointing flop-slide we're all familiar with. The way to avoid that is to modify how you throw them.
A traditional dice roll is a low-angle throw that relies on the die's momentum and friction with the table surface to make it tumble and randomize. Works great for d6s and the rounder dice like d12s and d30s, but not for the elegantly stable shape of the d4. Instead of relying on a roll across the table, you need to make them bounce and tumble to get randomized before they hit the table.
You can do that by using a dice cup or tower, but the easiest way to do it is just shake the dice in your cupped hands to get some randomization, then throw them in an arc up instead of the normal straight-line toss. Your goal is to have the dice tumble in the air, then hit the table at as close to a 90 degree angle as possible so they bounce. You could even just drop them if you did a thorough shake first.
It works great. Try it. Do a few practice throws right now.
See? It's satisfying.
Now go and have fun with your d4s. Teach others what you've learned and maybe one day we'll live in a world where the d4 is only criticized for being stabby. (Because they are and always will be.)
I don't particularly like any of those. They don't appeal to me, so here's my explanation: Common is the language of adventurers.
It's a professional language full of specialized jargon oriented around travel, exploration, delving, fighting, supplies, logistics, and contract law. You know it because you're an adventurer. Your colleagues know it because they're adventurers. The people you talk to (innkeepers, merchants, guides, nobles, etc.) know it because they regularly work with adventurers and need to communicate specifics while doing business.
When you're not talking about the job, you don't speak Common. It might have words for whatever the topic of conversation is, but that's for work. You have to maintain your professional boundaries. The random people you encounter during the day don't speak Common to each other or when they go home, they only speak it to you during the course of business. It only seems like everyone speaks Common regularly because your character is an adventurer and has an adventurer's view of the world.
It makes sense because adventuring is an exceptionally hazardous profession. You need fast, clear communication in the life or death situations you run into. There's no room for misunderstandings or hesitation.
You need to be absolutely clear about contracts and exactly what you're being hired to do. (Nobles appreciate it because they don't want the party of people who can probably destabilize their realm to feel cheated, come back, and overthrow them.)
You need to be specific about the gear you purchase to make sure it'll be adequate for your nonstandard needs. (Merchants appreciate it because adventurers are good repeat customers and they really don't want a party of vengeful survivors coming back because their gear failed them in the field.)
So you all speak the Common adventuring language to hash out details and make sure you're all on the same page.
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"decay, fungi, and transformation"
I like decay. Signs of wear and tear on everyday items, dilapidation and visible repairs on old things, and the way places and artifacts fall apart when they're abandoned. There are so many flavors of rot. Fallen trees festooned with mushrooms and bracket fungus, the wood still holding its shape but soft enough to push a finger into. Forgotten sheds and junked cars slowly being torn apart by plants and rusting away to nothing. Abandoned factories caving under their own weight as the elements eat them away. The endless variety of ways that it can happen is fascinating to watch.
The devotees of the Order of the Enfolding Root have a sacred duty, laboring to disenchant and defuse curses on the blasted ground of magical wastelands. They work tirelessly, cultivating the land in careful phases and cycling through curated seed libraries in terminally ambitious projects of reclamation.
The Work starts with innately magical plants that can withstand the intense arcane residue. As the soil's taint decreases they're followed by plantings of hardy mundane cultivars, flowers, grasses, and finally crops.
A reclamation can take years, a lifetime, even multiple generations to realize. Successful efforts usually end in fallow fields and tracts of wilderness that are strange, bearing the faded scars of magic but no longer virulently cursed.
When I started playing RPGs, games were in-person events. The tools and resources for playing online in real time didn't exist yet, so everyone got together at someone's house and played. (If you were lucky enough to have other players living nearby.) I don't miss those days. Voice and video chat, virtual tabletops, and the ability to find other players from all around the world are absolutely improvements on how it used to be.
Online games are a different experience from in-person though. Not better, different. With different sets of logistical complications to deal with in order to run a smooth session.
The availability of online groups combined with pandemic conditions and the world being what it is means there's a proportion of players who've never actually played in person before. And for those who have, pandemic conditions may have made you rusty. Since folks are starting to gather and play in person again (which I think is unwise) here are a few things to keep in mind to help you be a considerate player and friend in meatspace.
(Most of this is basic etiquette and common sense you probably already know. It would apply to any social situation just as well.
This is also advice about managing to exist together in physical proximity, not about playing the game. The basics of playing (taking turns, respecting x-cards/lines and veils/boundaries, making sure everyone's having fun, etc.) don't change and are even more important in person than when playing online. Don't be a jerk. If someone around you is being a jerk, stop them.)
Also, if you join a game and realize you're not enjoying playing, bow out. You can always come back for a different game later, don't force yourself to play if you're not feeling it. Your time is valuable too.
Be on time. You don't need to be perfectly punctual, but try to arrive within 15 minutes of the planned time and let the group know if you're running late. It's fine if you're late, things happen, just make sure to communicate with your group so they don't worry about you. They're your friends, they'll worry.
If you have to cancel or reschedule give as much advance warning as you can. Let your folks know what's going on and don't feel bad about asking for a schedule change if you need one, just try to give the rest of your group as much time to plan as possible.
TL;DR: To play in person folks have to travel, spend money on fuel and transportation, haul stuff around, and get back home. It's more of an effort to organize and more of an inconvenience to change plans unexpectedly, so be considerate. Respect your friends' time and communicate as much as you can if plans change.
Be proactive about messes. Watch your drink, watch other people's drinks. Watch your snacks, crumbs, and greasy fingers. Clean the table thoroughly before you set up for game, especially if you all ate there first. We all know how expensive these books are, and how many of them are out of print and literally irreplaceable. Do everything you can to not destroy your friends' stuff. The easiest way to do that is just to pay attention and think ahead. Watch your elbows. Keep drinks away from things a spill would damage. Use coasters. Consider what could go wrong and be ready to respond to other folks' messes too. Have a roll of paper towels on or near the table at all times, I'm not kidding.
Try not to distract from the game. No one is going to be completely focused on the game for the entire session and it would be unreasonable to expect that; but don't hand your phone across the table to share a meme while folks are in the middle of something. Wait for a lull or a break. If you're going to use electronics at the table, wear headphones or make sure your devices are muted. Online it's not a big deal, but in person it can make it very hard for folks who have trouble focusing to enjoy the game. Do your best to help make sure your friends have fun.
TL;DR: Make an effort to be self-aware and look out for your friends.
You got this. Be excellent to each other and have fun!
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"seeking to escape the relentless sun"
While it's the source of all life on earth, never forget the sun is a giant self-sustaining thermonuclear reaction that eternally screams at us in an unending electromagnetic barrage. It hates us and being out in its light is cumulatively bad for you.
Meringue is a little egg, aware and friendly inside her shell. One day she'll hatch into something, but until then she needs to be kept warm and protected from getting squished.
"She's wiggling again."
Meringue can sense when invisible, magical, and concealed things are near and wiggles in response. She doesn't need eyes to help her friends.
"Hey, is that a crack?"
Meringue starts with a d30 usage die. Roll every time she detects something. When the die is depleted she hatches into a…
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"disguises, sacrifice, and a snare drawing closed"
I have a lot of memories of my dad getting bit by snakes. When I was little we'd go on family hikes in the woods and I'd catch animals along the way. Mostly toads, turtles, and bugs. The only snakes I was allowed to catch were garter snakes, because they're not likely to bite and are easy for a kid to identify. Dad would catch all the rest. He'd scramble down a river bank and come back up with a water snake wrapped around his arm and its teeth sunk into his finger, then tell me how its anticoagulant saliva worked. There are lots of local species I've only been able to see up close because he was willing to get bit, scratched, or stung in order to catch and bring them to me. Thanks dad.
These strange creatures resemble animal skeletons wrapped in hazy, transparent ghost flesh. They're the same as normal livestock in their care and behavior, and are raised for their intensely magical meat and byproducts.
The only difference between ghost livestock and their mundane cousins is in how they reproduce. They don't breed. After being slaughtered the bones must be scoured and sheltered from the sun. If the skeleton is complete, undamaged, and perfectly clean a new ghost animal will rise in three nights. It won't be the same creature as before, though it shares the same skeleton.
No one knows where the come from, only how to care for them.
Warding is one of my favorite types of magic. It's extremely flexible and there are so many flavors that it's easy to work into just about anything. I'm always disappointed when games reduce warding to basic shields and 'protection from'-type spells, or ignore it in favor of flashy destructive magic. Immolating your foes at will isn't always the answer. It's practically boring compared to setting guardian spirits behind you to tear apart your pursuers.
I boiled down the different variations of wards I've seen and came up with six general types that spells tend to resemble. Description and flavor-wise a spell could be anything, but the effects and power sources usually fall into at least one of these main categories:
1) Creates a physical barrier that intruders can't pass. This is stuff like magic circles and boundary stones that exclude or contain entities. Anything trying to get into or escape the warded area runs into a solid wall of force that keeps them from entering or leaving the space.
2) Repels intruders with the sight or physical properties of an object. This is "garlic repels vampires" and "fae can't touch iron"-type stuff. There's not a physical force keeping intruders out, but they're blocked by the properties of whatever's set out along the boundary. It might have an actual effect or the intruder might just believe it does, but it's more applied folklore than magic.
3) Repels intruders by invoking a Power to protect the space. This is when the warded area is guarded by a god or guardian spirit that the caster has politely asked to help. Anything that tries to get in either can't, gets thrown out, or has to fight the guardian entity. The key thing is that the guardian is helping because of an entreaty from the caster, not compulsion.
4) Tethers a force to guard a space. This is stuff like the spirits of ancient warriors bound to statues in a tomb to guard it forever. It's the same as 3, except the guardian(s) is there and acting the way they are because of a compulsion from the ward's magic.
5) Makes an area actively hostile to intruders. Things like holy ground or threshold magic, where an intruder either can't enter at all without an invitation or are severely weakened while inside the bounds of the ward. May also burst into flames.
6) Acts as an alarm. Intruders can pass across freely, but it pings the caster or otherwise records their presence. Sometimes acts as a trigger for other spells.
That's it. There are your archetypes. You can break down most types of protective magic and they'll fit into one or more of them. Try it out.
I also thought about why warding regularly gets downplayed or entirely overlooked in games and settled on two main reasons:
First, cowardice. Like I said before, warding is extremely flexible. Your options for using it change with each new space you visit. Codifying how the magic could potentially interact with different architectural elements vs things inside rooms vs open space in a way that produces satisfying rules would be an effort. So designers don't and we end up with boring and generic protection spells. Cowardice. There's no need for that level of exactness and specificity in rules, just give the players things and trust them to have fun.
Second, flavor. Warding is usually complex, static magic with (by definition) sharply marked boundaries. Making wards takes careful planning, time, and precise spellwork because they're supposed to be major enduring pieces of protection. It gives you things like castle cities where the wards have been active for centuries, family homesteads protected over generations, and magic barriers in the far-off wilderness that have barred monsters since before living memory.
It's good stuff and works great for locations the players might visit, but not so well for the players themselves while they're on the road adventuring. Any wards players might use in the field would have to be made fast. Improvised work cobbled together from whatever was lying around or in their pockets. Protections that would serve to secure a campsite for a few days or seal an area of the dungeon so nothing can sneak up on them, but that wouldn't last long after the party leaves.
In that spirit, here are some ephemeral wards made from basic supplies that can be easily carted around and deployed as needed.
1d12 Ephemeral Wards
1) Water from a holy lake or well. Works until it evaporates.
2) Blessed bones. Animal? Human? Something else? Yes! Each have a spirit bound to it that awakens and attacks when an intruder comes within range.
3) A stone. Seal evil entities by way of plonking a big rock on them.
4) Teeth. Summons a ghostly maw to devour unwelcome visitors.
5) Smoke. Creates solid walls of haze between fires burning at the edges of the safe zone.
6) Carved pebbles. Put them in conspicuous places around the area, the sigils on them repel interlopers.
7) A design of footprints pressed into the dirt by dance. Creates a palisade of invisible spikes from each print.
8) Sootblack collected from a sacred fire. A figure made of greasy lampblack tirelessly pursues anyone who crosses the ward's perimeter.
9) Fallen leaves arranged in careful patterns and drifts. Forcefully imparts the idea of gravity to pin anyone who enters the space uninvited.
10) Chunks of empty honeycomb. Houses a swarm of spectral bees. If anything passes by they fly to warn the caster with a waggle dance.
11) Holy texts. Stack them like bricks into a solid wall that'll seal doors and portals.
12) Braided cord made of hair. Delicate and so fine it's almost invisible. If anything breaks it, it starts screaming and won't stop.
(If you'd like more stuff in this vein, Luke Gearing's created a magnificent batch of wards that I absolutely love.)
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"the first signs of your efforts coming to fruition"
I grow morning glories every year. I've grown the same seedline for almost a decade now, collecting seeds to plant again each spring. The plants I have now are exceptionally hardy because I'm a neglectful gardener. Only the ones who can withstand regular droughts and bad soil make it to flower. I still worry though, mostly about the newly-sprouted seedlings. Will they survive frosts? Is their soil draining properly so their roots don't rot? Do they actually need fertilizer this year? It's not until about June when the vines have climbed onto the trellis and started flowering that I can be sure something won't go terribly wrong.
1 Call their name three times
2 Say their name
3 Think their name
4 Look in a mirror, any mirror
5 Compliment them out loud
6 Insult them out loud
7 Go on down to the crossroads and make your presence known
8 Talk to the doll they gave you
9 Write your request on an offering and burn it
10 Submit a request for audience in triplicate via courier imp
11 Turn around
12 Close your eyes
13 Go to sleep
14 Pour a drink
15 Put out a plate of cookies
16 Call them up, they've got a cellphone
17 They prefer texts
18 Email works best
19 Just talk to them, they're accompanying you on your journey
20 No need, they're always watching
Message is a classic spell, one of the oldest and most useful out there. Here are some variations on it for when you want to play with magical telephony.
Black Fax
Duration: 3*[caster's level] minutes
Components: Your best imitation of a dial tone
Instead of conveying information this spell fills the target's head with darkness and static. Thought and movement is impossible for the duration of the spell while they receive the warped message. When it ends the target knows exactly who cast the spell. The target can't respond to anything happening around them, but can choose to make an INT or WIS save. On a success the spell only lasts half its normal duration, on a fail the duration doubles.
Spam
Components: A list of strangers' names and a shard of your soul
Sends an identical message to every intelligent creature within 1000'. They can't respond or tell who sent it. The spam message preempts or interrupts any other communication a target might receive. Spam can be cast as a cantrip to send 1 message, or with a spell slot to send [spell level] messages in sequence.
The message's subject is:
Party Wire
Components: 1 SP
Sends the same message to up to 10 targets the caster chooses. Each recipient can respond, but their return messages will get garbled if they try to reply at the same time and talk over each other. After the caster sends their message and hears all the responses roll even or odd. On even only the chosen targets got the message. Odd, the caster accidentally connected another person into the spell and they heard everything. GM decides who the extra person is.
Landline
Duration: Up to 10 minutes
Components: A little bit of your dignity
Lay face-down on the ground with your forehead pressed into bare soil. While in that position you can speak to 1 target and carry on a normal two-way conversation with them no matter where they are as long as their feet are touching the ground.
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"winding trails, disorientation, and the scent of flowers"
Getting lost in the woods is a peculiar feeling. It quietly picks at something superstitious in the back of your head. The absence of people, places, even background noise you could use to orient yourself gets to you in a way that just 'not knowing where you are' doesn't match. It's easy to get turned around, even when you're on a trail, and if you can't find a blaze or marker to get your bearings you have to look for landmarks. A distinctive tree, a big rock you passed, the sound of a stream, anything that might cement where you are. I used to use the smell of honeysuckle. Most of the parks around here have their parking lots and trail heads in meadow areas where they grow; so smelling honeysuckle meant I was on the path back to the car.
Unless you invested in perimeter golems, guards are people. They have off days, get distracted, and are people. It's unlikely that every guard you meet will be completely on top of things all the time, so roll for their mood when you come up to a guard post. This doesn't replace a reaction roll.
The guards are... (1d8)
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"waking, hunger, and iron determination"
Early spring is a hard time in nature. The hopeful associations with renewal are something that we attached to the season. Yes, the snow's melting and it's warming up, but there's not much food yet. The winter forage is mostly gone, new plants haven't grown in yet, and most of the small prey is still dormant. The creatures that are active are running on the fumes of their winter stores and have to hold out until there's something to eat. One of the few things that thrives is skunk cabbage. It generates its own heat to melt through the snow and start growing weeks before other plants even sprout. It can survive frosts and drinks in the weak sun like nothing's wrong. The sheer moxie of this plant is breathtaking.
Spell reed is a hyperaccumulator that, when planted in tainted soil, absorbs and condenses any magical residue present. Research shows they are effective in mitigating all forms of arcane phenomena, including even well-contained spellwork such as ancestral curses or enchantments that some may consider beneficial. The condensed mystic power is sequestered within the plant's tissues and may be harvested for proper containment and disposal. As with any such project, the speed at which territory can be rendered safe for habitation varies depending on the severity of the contamination and the number of reeds planted. If following best practices, it is usually possible to reclaim up to an acre of land within 1 to 2 months, though heavily tainted soil may require years of effort.
It is possible to use specially processed spell reed in crafting magical objects or to augment spellwork, but such practices are dangerous and release the concentrated magical energy stored inside the plant. As such, they negate the environmental benefits of cultivating spell reed and are not advised.
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Spell reeds:
The refined ashes can be:
Ash abuse is dangerous. If you consume ash more than once a day, for each extra use roll over 50+(# of extra uses * 10) on a d%. On a fail cast fireball on yourself as the stored magical energy breaks free.
If planted in a dead wizard's skull or brain, it will absorb the spells they had memorized at the moment of their death.
This month's prompt is:
"volatility, predictions, and the slow grind of change"
March might technically be spring, but around here it's still very much winter. The snow's only barely begun to melt, the weather changes by the hour, and the days aren't getting noticeably longer yet. It can be demoralizing, even when you know the season is turning and you just need to be patient. The best sign of change is the birds. When the robins start building nests and the goldfinches turn yellow again you know spring is actually on the way.
2 Talking Storms - Occur in high winds near certain honeycombed and eroded sandstone canyons. The wind running over and through the rock cavities doesn't just sound like voices, it produces actual human speech. The words are distinct and range anywhere from beautiful choral concerts to horrible things whispered directly into your ears.
3 Inky Rain - These organic deluges happen in late spring when driftcap mushrooms sprout. These inkycap relatives grow lighter-than-air fruiting bodies that break free from their stalks and float on the wind in clouds of thousands. They begin to melt within hours of takeoff, dropping inches of self-digesting spore-bearing black fluid as they go.
4 Giant Lamprey Migration - In mid-autumn the lamprey swim inland from the ocean to spawn, choking waterways of all sizes with their 12'-long squirming grey-white bodies. They're delicious if you can catch one, but DO NOT GO IN THE WATER.
5 Mirror Sky - Occur on warm days over low rolling hills and plains. The still air creates a mirage of the ground below, a perfect reflection complete with exact copies of all the local places and people. If you look straight up, you can see yourself staring back. It feels as if there's a second planet hanging directly overhead, even if you know what's going on.
6 Night Tide - Schools of impenetrably black microscopic diatoms that drink in all light, casting the areas around them into constant night. The schools can be miles wide and come into the shallow waters in high summer, blanketing swathes of coastline in darkness. A tide usually lasts for about a week before the school disperses. The longest on record lasted almost five months.
7 Companion Halos - On cloudy days distinct rings of indigo-violet light form in the sky directly over thinking creatures. Each individual attracts a single halo that follows them perfectly, staying exactly overhead and visible for miles. The halos' size and intensity occasionally change, no one knows why.
8 Sibling Suns - Instead of setting the sun diffracts into many much smaller suns, each a different color. Together they shine their single-hued lights in overlapping cones, casting bizarre vibrant shadows and filtering the world into zones of monochrome. Events occur more frequently the farther north or south you go.
9 Return Frost - In late autumn before the ground freezes extreme overnight cold snaps cause frost heaving so intense it churns the soil and unearths recently-buried corpses. Morning finds the land encrusted in feathery rime and the exhumed bodies impaled on thousands of needle-fine shafts of ice. Areas with frequent return frosts usually create the dead, so bodies found after a frost are deeply suspect.
10 Coffin Rain - Torrential freezing rains that occur in high winter. The water falls and freezes fast enough to trap anything caught outside in a shell of ice a few inches to feet thick. Seek shelter immediately! Buildings in areas that experience regular coffin rains have extremely wide eaves that curve downwards to protect exterior walls from ice buildup.
A massive salamander with the ability to control fire. These intelligent creatures cause chaos by entering a settlement, extinguishing all fires, and refusing to allow new fires to kindle until their demands are met.
Their demands are often strange and inscrutable, running the gamut from strenuous quests (like retrieving a rare food or treasure) to simple favors (like giving a good back scratch).
Aside from their ability to shut down all civilization in a 50 mile radius, Fire Tyrants are usually nonviolent and willing to negotiate, but they're stubborn.
HP: 12d12+12 AC: 19
Resistance: Magic, acid, poison, cold, physical weapons
Immune: Fire
Extinguish - Magically douses as many fires within a 50 mile radius as it wishes. Fires can't be relit without its permission. Affects magical fires.
Flare - Reignites as many fires as it wishes within a 50 mile radius. They suddenly explode causing damage as a fireball spell.
Gentle Smile - Just a big old goofy salamander smile. Gives +7 to its CHA and CHA-based skill checks. Any character with proficiency in Animal Handling who sees the smile must pass a DC 14 WIS save or fall under a Charm Person spell.
Welcome back! This month's prompt is:
"bonds and letting go"
We usually think of bonds in the context of connections to people and not the connections we have to places, objects, and times past. Things that shaped us or anchor us back through time with memories. Your childhood home, the park you used to hang out in, the small collection of cool rocks you picked up over the years, your pet's old collar kept as a memento. What do we draw from those bonds and what happens when we decide it's time to let them fall away?
Have at and have fun!
Welcome back and happy new year! This month's prompt is:
"waiting, sleep, and the in-between"
I'm all about liminal spaces and states. We're in the heart of winter now, here in the north. It's a time of thresholds and change according to the calendar; but outside most everything is dead or dormant, on pause until the snow melts. Winter is a season-long liminal state while we look forward to spring and a static silent time all its own. Plenty of time to think about all the changes that happen even when things are supposed to be still.
Have at and have fun!