August POTM

[Admin Dirk]

The high, hot part of summer is here for us in the North. Middle of winter for those below the equator, of course. But that isn't dampening our gaming spirits. Come on, and show us the best posts by your gamers and peers, and nominate them for POTM.

Anyone can win (except those who have already won this year), and you are a winner just by nominating and being nominated.

Do your part, and nominate an excellent August post!

[Cereal Nommer]

Player Nominated: oztk

Game: Outplay 2019
System: D&D 5e
GM: Wynamoinen
Link: Link to post

Context: Things are happening desperately fast in a race against time, in game and out, and against various groups of competitors. After escaping an acid filled hallway, racing down a series of tunnels and then finding a mysterious altar that demanded an important sacrifice Berthe stepped up to the task admirably.
FYI: There was in fact magical healing after the "Failing forward" section.

Note: oztk is currently nominated for a July PotM as well and may be ineligible by the time voting comes around.
Reason for nomination: "The dramatic monologue." ◄= All the feels right there.
One of my favorite characters in this game, always over the top drama and one of my favorite posts from that character without the flights of fancy. Quality post that I felt led to the overall improvement of all the subsequent posts in the thread.

 

Failing forward The same things that led to Berthe’s second fall -- her overactive imagination, the spider-elf’s shadow-shell -- are the same things that allow her to recover. The fantasist wishes it, imagines it, just so, and the shadows -- the boundary where light and dark mix, where nothing is fixed in black and white but all is grey and mutable -- the shadows allow her passage. One moment Berthe is lying in a pool of acid, the next she’s standing at the light at the edge of the corridor, biting her lip in pain, but Psyliana, changed back to her frail elven form, had the worst of it. "That was my last potion, and I did say I’d stay out of her way this time -- have you anything for the jerkface elf, boy?" A slight twinge of guilt would have shown on her face, had she not been invisible -- She did have the "drink me" potion. it's probably not a healing potion, but this was mere cover for the dread off her stash being depleted, of not knowing where her next hit was coming from. The potion probably wasn't 'roids, either, but surely it would make her feel something. She hovers near Psyliana, watching Eugene, ready to implement her rudimentary field-medicine skills should magic healing not be forthcoming.

Using the useless skill Berthe races as quickly as she can through the winding passageways, anxious to get more use of her invisibility. But the dwarven craftsmanship catches her attention, she can’t help but marvel and feel proud of her race, and she’s physically back at school. Warm day, stuffy room, teacher droning on and on and interminably on about finding and using the natural fissures in the rock. It’s...rocks. I’m going to be a burglar, like Bulby, what did I need to know about rocks for? I’ll be fighting dragons and… and of course young Berthe is off to a daydream. Except present day Berthe, while actually adventuring like Bulby did, is dreaming about being back in the classroom, racking her brains to remember anything the teacher said about the different styles of work, what they meant, stonecunningany information about this place that might aid her. It's the circle of life, or somesuch.

The dramatic monologue The handleless door immediately catches Berthe’s professional interest "Oooh, where’s the hidden lever?!" and the pedestal makes clear they’ve left the Dwarven built portion of the caves -- she has to fly up a few feet off the ground with her boots to read the inscription. "Your strength alone will now allow you to pass. The door just forces open? That’s a letdown; been a while since I’ve worked an intricate lock...Musta been ‘not’, instead of ‘now’ -- magical translation is always a bit unreliable, Pykupstyx couldn’t shut up about it. We’ve all gotta ‘share our very essence’ -- is this like truth or dare?" Except Berthe’s read enough books; she knows it’s something a bit more…mystical? Touchy-feely? The Halfling chapter, Riddles in the Dark -- is it a riddle? What is Berthe’s essence? She wants to be the World’s Greatest Treasure Hunter (but Dwarfy); but she’s over a hundred and only been adventuring a year -- hardly her ‘essence’. Similarly, her other obsessions -- her family, her brewery, the potions for her pecs -- these occupy a lot of her thoughts, but are all new things, for various values of “new”. What’s been with her longer, more centrally? It's not in the book. It is the book. After this flash of insight, she pulls out her battered copy of The Halfling, a fresh acid burn on the cover, and balances it carefully atop the orb, then places her hands on the indentations on either side, floating a foot off the ground all the while, so as not to look ridiculous with her hands up at head level. The rest of the answer comes to her tongue before her brain, she speaks loud, sometimes fluidly, sometimes haltingly, discovering it as she says it. She’s not sure why she’s doing this, why she’s giving a speech, but that’s how it would go in the books she's read. So that's what she does. "My essence is this book. My essence is ... my imagination, my dreams and day-dreams, flights of fancy. But more than that … it’s, it’s - my refusal to let my fantasies be fantasies, my drive to make my dreams reality? I … I wouldn’t be here, nearly one of The Nine, if I wasn’t dreaming about it as a kid, reading this book over and over, and wondering why the dwarves needed a halfling, why I couldn’t be a burglar like Bulby. But thousands of people have read it, imagined themselves there for the battles, the songs, the travels, the meals, the adventure. But for me … it wasn’t enough to imagine it. I had to live it." "I … I was orphaned early, had no role models, no picture of what a successful, happy life was. The fact that I have a successful career as a brewer and a stable family is just as much a product of my imagination, of dreaming up a better life than what was around me, and making it so. It’s how I teleported out of the acid, it’s how I, how I…" (If any withholds, all will fail. C’mon, out with it, Berthe) "...how I got hooked on Potions of Giant Strength." Her invisibility no longer hides her guilt and shame, her scarlet-red flush proclaims it for all to see. "My essence is wanting to live in my fantasies, instead of this fallen, broken world." A few seconds of awkward silence after her feet clicking together a foot off the floor. "I … there’s got to be a bit more to this than show and tell. Not sure exactly how this works, who I’m talking to, but -- this book? You can have it. My...my imagination" Berthe bites her lip a moment, tears up slightly at the enormity of what she’s saying. "It’s yours. I...I give it up. Mmma-maybe it’s just in the way now, maybe I’m better off without it. I mean, Psyliana -- you nearly died twice here. I’m more beat up myself than I’ve ever been. But...I can’t die. I promised them, promised Magnus and Freya, that I’d come home. B--but it’s not just death that’s threatening to keep me away from them. How can I be happy there, with them, truly happy, when I’m always dreaming of making it more? They’re so great, *so* great -- my darling, my dearest -- b...but they’re not enough for me. They should be enough. They deserve to be enough. But...they’re not. They’re just not. And...and if you take away my essence...maybe they’d finally be enough. I could drop this whole stupid ridiculous adventuring lark, go home to me family, my job, a-and be….happy? So... that’s my essence. I shared it. Take it." As she removes her hands there’s tears on her cheek, snot in her nose, doubt in her voice. She meant it, meant it all, but still -- wouldn’t it be boring, not to have her imagination? What empty shell of a person do you have to be to be satisfied with the world? When she speaks again, her voice is smaller, timid, her eyes down toward the floor. "There. I didn’t hold back. I gave everything. I...I don’t know how we make the whole bigger than the parts, but -- elf, we saved you, the boy and I. And I believe you. You would have saved me, too, given the chance. And...I'm sorry. I should have made you both invisible, too. There was enough dust. We're...more than our parts? It's your turn now. Don’t you hold back. What's your story, then?"

 

Actions and movement Status: ~50 minutes remaining for Potion of Giant Strength? Actions and rolls: If Eugene doesn’t heal Psyliana, Berthe will make a medicine check Dice * medicine check to stabilize: d20+4 (20)+4 Total = 24 (24) to stabilize her, and carry her along (Psyliana is fairly light, and doesn’t have much heavy gear; with her Potion up Berthe has a carrying capacity of 315 pounds and should be fine. While walking through the winding, tunnels, Berthe makes a history check about the origins of the dwarven stonework around her Dice * stonecunning! Ha!: d20+7 (8)+7 Total = 15 (15) In the room, Berthe makes a long (and touching and moving, etc. etc.) speech while placing her hands on the orb and balancing her book on it. Contingencies: If a projectile weapon hits her somehow, she will use reaction to deflect missiles, reducing damage by Dice * deflect missile damage reduction: d10+10 (5)+10 Total = 15 (15) Should something make her fall, she will use her reaction to reduce the damage by 35.

 

Dashboard and References Full character sheet Temporary effects: Invisible for ~4-5 more minutes, STR=21 for 1 hour. HP: 19/55, AC: 17 Speed: 45’ Accustomed to life underground, you have superior vision in dark and dim conditions. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. You can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.Darkvision 60’, You have advantage on saving throws against poison, and you have resistance against poison damage. Dwarven Resilience Combat reference: You can attack twice, instead of once, whenever you take the Attack action on your turn.Extra Attack, At 1st level, your practice of martial arts gives you mastery of combat styles that use unarmed strikes and monk weapons, which are shortswords and any simple melee weapons that don’t have the two-handed or heavy property. You gain the following benefits while you are unarmed or wielding only monk weapons and you aren’t wearing armor or wielding a shield: You can use Dexterity instead of Strength for the attack and damage rolls of your unarmed strikes and monk weapons. You can roll a d6 in place of the normal damage of your unarmed strike or monk weapon. When you use the Attack action with an unarmed strike or a monk weapon on your turn, you can make one unarmed strike as a bonus action. For example, if you take the Attack action and attack with a quarterstaff, you can also make an unarmed strike as a bonus action, assuming you haven’t already taken a bonus action this turn. Martial Arts, Beginning at 1st level, you know how to strike subtly and exploit a foe's distraction. Once per turn, you can deal an extra 1d6 damage to one creature you hit with an Attack if you have advantage on the Attack roll. The Attack must use a Finesse or a ranged weapon. You don't need advantage on the Attack roll if another enemy of the target is within 5 feet of it, that enemy isn't Incapacitated, and you don't have disadvantage on the Attack roll.Sneak Attack Weapons: +6 to hit, 1d6+3 Piercing damage, Finesse, Light, Monk WeaponShort Sword, +6 to hit, 1d6+3 (Monk weapon) piercing, finesse, light, thrown 20/60, Monk WeaponDagger, +6 to hit, 1d6+3 bludgeoning, counts as magical for overcoming resistancesUnarmed Strike, +6 to hit, 1d6+3 piercing, 80/320, 20 arrows, Two-HandedShortbow 1/7 Ki Points: Immediately after you take the Attack action on your turn, you can spend 1 ki point to make two unarmed strikes as a bonus action.Flurry of Blows, You can spend 1 ki point to take the Dodge action as a bonus action on your turn.Patient Defense, You can spend 1 ki point to take the Disengage or Dash action as a bonus action on your turn, and your jump distance is doubled for the turn.Step of the Wind, Starting at 5th level, you can interfere with the flow of ki in an opponent’s body. When you hit another creature with a melee weapon attack, you can spend 1 ki point to attempt a stunning strike. The target must succeed on a Constitution saving throw or be stunned until the end of your next turn.Stunning Strike When you are in dim light or darkness, as a bonus action you can teleport up to 60 feet to an unoccupied space you can see that is also in dim light or darkness. You then have advantage on the first melee attack you make before the end of the turn.Shadow Step, Starting at 3rd level, you can use your reaction to deflect or catch the missile when you are hit by a ranged weapon attack. When you do so, the damage you take from the attack is reduced by 1d10 + your Dexterity modifier + your monk level. If you reduce the damage to 0, you can catch the missile if it is small enough for you to hold in one hand and you have at least one hand free. If you catch a missile in this way, you can spend 1 ki point to make a ranged attack with the weapon or piece of ammunition you just caught, as part of the same reaction. You make this attack with proficiency, regardless of your weapon proficiencies, and the missile counts as a monk weapon for the attack, which has a normal range of 20 feet and a long range of 60 feet.Deflect Missiles, Beginning at 4th level, you can use your reaction when you fall to reduce any falling damage you take by an amount equal to five times your monk level.Slow Fall, At 7th level, your instinctive agility lets you dodge out of the way of certain area effects, such as a blue dragon’s lightning breath or a fireball spell. When you are subjected to an effect that allows you to make a Dexterity saving throw to take only half damage, you instead take no damage if you succeed on the saving throw, and only half damage if you fail.Evasion, Starting at 7th level, you can use your action to end one effect on yourself that is causing you to be charmed or frightened.Stillness of Mind Spell save DC: 14 Cantrip: Casting Time: 1 action Range: 30 feet Components: S M (A bit of fleece) Duration: 1 minute You create a sound or an image of an object within range that lasts for the duration. The illusion also ends if you dismiss it as an action or cast this spell again. If you create a sound, its volume can range from a whisper to a scream. It can be your voice, someone else’s voice, a lion’s roar, a beating of drums, or any other sound you choose. The sound continues unabated throughout the duration, or you can make discrete sounds at different times before the spell ends. If you create an image of an object—such as a chair, muddy footprints, or a small chest—it must be no larger than a 5-foot cube. The image can’t create sound, light, smell, or any other sensory effect. Physical interaction with the image reveals it to be an illusion, because things can pass through it. If a creature uses its action to examine the sound or image, the creature can determine that it is an illusion with a successful Intelligence (Investigation) check against your spell save DC. If a creature discerns the illusion for what it is, the illusion becomes faint to the creature.Minor Illusion Spells costing 2 Ki points: Casting Time: 1 action Range: 60 feet Components: V M (Bat fur and a drop of pitch or piece of coal) Duration: Concentration, up to 10 minutes Magical darkness spreads from a point you choose within range to fill a 15-foot-radius sphere for the duration. The darkness spreads around corners. A creature with darkvision can’t see through this darkness, and nonmagical light can’t illuminate it. If the point you choose is on an object you are holding or one that isn’t being worn or carried, the darkness emanates from the object and moves with it. Completely covering the source of the darkness with an opaque object, such as a bowl or a helm, blocks the darkness. If any of this spell’s area overlaps with an area of light created by a spell of 2nd level or lower, the spell that created the light is dispelled.Darkness, Casting Time: 1 action Range: Touch Components: V S M (Either a pinch of dried carrot or an agate) Duration: 8 hours You touch a willing creature to grant it the ability to see in the dark. For the duration, that creature has darkvision out to a range of 60 feet.Darkvision, Casting Time: 1 action [b]Range:/b] Self Components: V S M (Ashes from a burned leaf of mistletoe and a sprig of spruce) Duration: Concentration, up to 1 hour A veil of shadows and silence radiates from you, masking you and your companions from detection. For the duration, each creature you choose within 30 feet of you (including you) has a +10 bonus to Dexterity (Stealth) checks and can’t be tracked except by magical means. A creature that receives this bonus leaves behind no tracks or other traces of its passage. Pass without Trace, Casting Time: 1 action Range: 120 feet Components: V S Duration: Up to 10 minutes For the duration, no sound can be created within or pass through a 20-foot-radius sphere centered on a point you choose within range. Any creature or object entirely inside the sphere is immune to thunder damage, and creatures are deafened while entirely inside it. Casting a spell that includes a verbal component is impossible there.Silence   Belt Pouch: 44.43 gold pieces Burglar's Pack: backpack, ball bearing (100), string,candle (5), crowbar, hammer, piton (5), hooded lantern, flask of oil (2), rations (Ate 3 on journey in first post5 2), tinderbox, waterskin, hempen rope Reading and writing: book (The Halfling, or There and Back Again), Wrote a letter in first post of first two rounds10 7 sheets of paper, pen, three pieces of chalk, sealing wax, ink, signet ring Other: thieves' tools, manacles, perfume, steel mirror, bedroll, fine clothes, soap, brewer's Supplies, letter of introduction from brewer, traveler's clothes Magic items: These Gloves are invisible while worn. While wearing them, you gain a +5 bonus to DEX (Sleight of Hand) checks and DEX checks made to pick locks.Gloves of Thievery, ATTUNED You gain a +1 bonus to AC and Saving Throws while you wear this cloak.Cloak of Protection, ATTUNED While this polished agate is on your person, you gain a +1 bonus to Ability Checks and Saving Throws.Stone of Good Luck, ATTUNED While you wear these boots, you have a flying speed equal to your walking speed. You can use the boots to fly for up to 4 hours, all at once or in several shorter flights, each one using a minimum of 1 minute from the Duration. If you are flying when the Duration expires, you descend at a rate of 30 feet per round until you land. The boots regain 2 hours of flying capability for every 12 hours they aren't in use.Winged Boots. Duration left: 234 minutes Consumables: 1x0x When you drink this potion, your Strength score rises to 25 changes for 1 hour.Potion of Fire Giant Strength, Drank one in burning tower in first post2x 0x When you drink this potion, your Strength score rises to 21 for 1 hour.Potion of Hill Giant Strength, 1x0x Found in a small packet, this powder resembles very fine sand. There is enough of it for one use. When you use an action to throw the dust into the air, you and each creature and object within 10 feet of you become Invisible for 2d4 minutes. The Duration is the same for all subjects, and the dust is consumed when its magic takes effect. If a creature affected by the dust attacks or casts a spell, the Invisibility ends for that creature.Dust of Disappearance, 20x You regain 2d4 + 2 Hit Points when you drink this potion.Potion of Healing 1x Potion number 2 found just inside the labyrinth, labelled “drink me”Green potion

[Strange2099]

Player Nominated: Karhald
Game: Hoard of the Dragon Queen, 5E (Hoard G)
GM: Chocoladevla
Link: Link to post
Note: thread is private, so presumably only the admins can see it, others can used copy posted below under the spoiler.

Reason for nomination: Last month, Greta Silverdeep, Dwarf Cleric and beloved hero of a small town called Greenest, selflessly volunteered to put her own life on the line to save others. While ultimately successful in freeing the innocent hostages, she paid the ultimate price and her death post was one of the most impactful pieces of writhing that I’ve had the privilege to read on this site. This month, Karhald outdoes himself with this post: Greta’s resurrection. I can’t begin to do justice to describe the emotionally packed story, but I consider it worthy to nominate for Post of the Month.

 

Time was a curiosity on Dwarfhome, where years would seem to flash by in a blink, yet hours would pass between breaths. Roaming throughout the great mansion, Erackinor, Greta could watch, read, and see everything that passed through out all realms of all dwarves through all time, but she could not remember anything. Experience was immediate and fleeting, and once she turned her attention to another aspect of dwarvenness, she what she studied so carefully before faded and disappeared from her mind. Everything, that is, but that which was related directly to herself. She would gaze into the divine eye of Berronar Truesilver, watch her son hard at work in the forges, or sleeping peacefully in the orphanage. Once, while he slept, she reached through the water and touched his dream, and was brought into his dreamworld. She could speak to him that way, though he seemed unable to remember their conversations, but she learned much of her son, so much. He loved the forge, he loved working with his hands, and he loved the stories of his people. He was sad, too, sad at his being denied a family, sad at living in an orphanage, and sad at never having known a loving home. When Greta pulled away from his dream, she wept for hours before the bowl. "Greta," the Greatmother was in the room, always observing, making sure that Greta's soul was safe during her time with the Divine Eye. "Greta, he won't remember the dreams, you should not touch them, for the pain it causes you harms you more deeply than you can imagine. When you weep for him here, you scar your soul, and your reforging may become unpleasant because of it. You are free to do as you choose, of course, but be aware of the dangers you face." Greta looked at her Matron, then back at the bowl, and then down at the slowly gathering rock of Soul-Steel Ore that was forming in her center. It was cracked now, and light blazed from the fissures in the lump. It was small, impossibly small, yet she could see every detail clearly. With sad eyes, she nodded her apology to the Greatmother, and floated back to wander the halls of Erackinor. Years seemed to have passed, yet not even a day had come and gone back on Toril, and Greta came to the Greatmother again, and sent her emotion and wish to gaze into the Divine Eye. "Of course, Greta, you may, but remember my words of caution regarding the dreams of your loved ones." Greta nodded understanding, and sent her eyes not to Haldi, but to Cara, Juniper, Merrick, and the people of Greenest. "Curious," the Greatmother said, "Do you regret leaving them so soon?" Greta pulled back from the Divine Eye, and smiled sadly at the Greatmother. I couldn't save them all, but so many of them did make it, the little ones are free with their mother. The one who slew me, Cyanwrath, he kept his word. A flash of golden sunlight flared in the bowl, demanding the attention of Greta and Berronar. She Looked into the Eye, and gazed upon her own body laying upon a table in the temple of the Dawnfather. "Lathander is in the room, they are preparing." Berronar took up Greta in her arms, and together, they watched. "You have a choice, Greta, you must choose soon when the question comes." Matron Misselin, a Morning Lord of great strength, prayed over Greta’s body and held aloft a small, clear gem, a diamond of a respectable size, and the morning light streamed through the temple windows. The multicolored beams of light, colored from the stained glass windows, wavered, bent around each other, and converted upon each other, twisting and braiding together into a chaotic rainbow rope that slowly worked towards the gem being held aloft. As soon as the rainbow rope touched the diamond, the room burst into a chaotic spray of prismatic radiance, and then Greta heard the call. "Greta Silverdeep, cleric of Life and light, follower of Berronar Truesilver, who fell in the act of protecting the young and the innocent. The people of Greenest call you back. Before Greta's eyes, a fluctuating circle of eye-wrenching colors appeared. In the center, a window showing her body and the priestess of Lathandar completing the ritual, there was kindness, love, and a desire to see her again. Greta felt drawn to the circle, yet a part of her refused to reach forth and complete the circuit. She looked again at Berronar, who looked back at Greta and smiled warmly. "Lathander asks that I release you to answer his servant's call, which I do, but it is your choice to make, Greta. Do you wish to return? Don’t concern yourself with duty to me here, for eventually you will return, and we will have even more stories to share." There is so much to do still, there is so much, but, here, I can watch Haldi, I can touch his dreams. I... I don't know. "Greta, choose quickly, the prismatic bridge will be here but a moment, look, it already begins to wane. The Soul Conduit will disappear, and there will be no further attempts. Grab it if you wish to continue guarding the hearth, for Greenest still needs guardians. If you wish, then go. We will be waiting for you." Greta looked at her goddess, then at the flickering and fading rainbow conduit, then closed her spectral eyes, reached forward, and gripped the soul bridge. I'll come. Burning light filled her eyes and permeated her soul, blinding, scintillating, flashing through countless random colors at unfathomable speeds. Her soul shrank to a single mote of spiritual energy and was fired through the Soul Conduit, dashing across an impossible distance at unbelievable speeds. The trip was terrifying and unnatural, stressful and nauseating, yet she had no control at this point, and could only scream internally at the chaotic and horrible experience. An eternity passed in a heartbeat, threatening to shatter Greta's sanity and cause the ritual to fail, leaving her maddened spirit to wander Greenest until some worthy soul ended her final fragment of existence, but she held onto her mind and she focused on the knowledge of the need that others had of her. She had to return, she had to continue to walk the path of the healer, the hearth guard, the mother and the foundation. She held. With terrible pain, Greta drew breath, her entire body aching with the rejection of the onsetting rigor mortis and the barely closed mortal wounds that caused Greta's death. She let out a low, pained groan, and slowly opened dry, blurry eyes. Sunlight, streaming through the gaudy stained-glass windows that Greta always thought to be a preposterous waste of money, bathed the scene in a cacophonous aura of colorful light, washing Greta's body with colors that blended and mixed with the Gold Dwarf's own dark skin. "Ooooo.... guh...." "Shh... Greta Silverdeep, shh... You are in a safe place and have just made a terrible journey to your broken body. You need to rest, here, at least I can help with the pain." Matron Misselin chanted the words of renewal, and in moments, a warm light suffused Greta's body was once again whole and free of pain, though a terrible nausea and weariness seemed to envelope and absorb Greta's entire being. Greta's vision cleared slightly, and she lifted her head to see several acolytes of Lathandar standing around her. Their usually spectacular robes were spattered with blood, and the exhaustion was evident on their faces. Greta, voice cracking and strained with her own exhaustion and the ordeal of resurrection, spoke to them "Th-thank you, I... I should, I should help with the w-w-wounded. Wh-where are..." Matron Misselin's hand pushed Greta's shoulder gently so her head returned to the table upon which she lay. "Shh.. just rest Greta. You need to rest." She clapped her hands, "Come! Michael, David, help her to her feet and guide her to a bed, be her legs, be her strength, and be understanding, this ordeal she has survived is a terrible one, one that I have experienced. Pray that you never have to." "Matron Misselin... you've been raised? What do you remember from the other side?" Greta whispered hoarsely. "I was in Erackinor, the great palace of Moradin and Berronar, it was calm, peaceful, and beautiful." "My experience was beautiful as well," Matron Misselin said softly as Greta was helped to her feet, "and I no longer fear death, knowing what is waiting for me. But my duties require me to stay here, though when I am called back to Lathandar's Temple of the Morning, I will happily go to bask in his light and sing my story, and the stories of Greenest." With the help of Michael and David, Greta left the temple of Lathandar, and was guided to the keep where the rest of the Legends of Greenest sat with drinks in their hands and sorrow on their faces, listening to Governor Nighthill speak of captives. As Michael and David helped her into her chair, she patted their hands affectionately and thanked them for their help. "Thank you, I'll be fine here, I'm afraid there's no time to rest, though my body screams for it. No, I'll be fine. Thank Matron Misselin for me." To the shocked and surprised Legends of Greenest, she gave a weak, pale smile. "Thank... thank you for helping me save the children, I... I have so much to tell you."

~Greta Silverdeep~

AC	HP	Channel	Spells	Status	Effects
16(+2)	21/21	0/1	0/first level3	Resurrection Sickness: -4	--

 

Save DC: 13 Spell Attack: +5, Attribute Mod: +3
All healing magic heals additional 2+spell level HP.Life Domain
Cantrips: Thaumaturgy, Guidance, Mending
1st Level: Domain Spells: Bless, Cure Wounds.
1st Level: Detect Magic {R}, Detect Poison and Disease {R}, Healing Word, Protection from Evil & Good,
Purify Food and Drink {R}, Sanctuary, Shield of Faith
*-Spells with {R} after their name are Ritual cast only, and not considered prepared.

[Retry]

Player Nominated: Simandl
Game: Adventurer's League - Season 5: Storm Kings Thunder
GM: Retry
Link: Link to the post

Reason for nomination: Simandl joined the game when they were fresh to the site and have been steadily growing in their post quality as the game has been chugging along. Their party was given the task of 'handling' two ogres after having just finished a battle that had most of them spent. While the group was preparing to fight; Simandl's character, Darab'at, took the risk of approaching them and trying to convert them into allies instead. Through a well worded speech (and a good persuasion roll to boot) the Bard saved the team from what would've been a deadly encounter proving that violence isn't always the only route, even when dealing with monsters

 

Darab'at As the group makes it way through the cavern to meet the ogres Darab'at begins to feel anxious. Dealing with ogres isn't something he had the misfortune of having to do before. Tryggva is worn-out and injured, certainly does not look up to another battle. Thankfully Brook is there, now in her canine form, clearly keeping a close watch on the barbarian. White, too, seems to be hoping to avoid confrontation, but the halfling has craftily tried to make some arrangements for back-up if things go poorly. Hopefully it won't come to that. Mialee...well, she's always ready to fight. The massive ogres come into view and the group makes their way through some of the stalagmites before coming to a halt. Darab'at takes a few steps forward and clears his throat to ensure he's gotten both of the beasts' attention. "Mmm. Good day to you both, Mighty Nob and Mighty Thog!" He makes an exaggerated, ceremonial bow and gestures to himself and the party. "I am Darab'at, a wandering musician of the Bedine folk, and these are my companions. We are here on behalf of Snigbat as we are... business associates...of a sort." He pauses a moment to let the ogers digest the large words. "Snigbat has mentioned to us that you were unwilling to shift your loyalty from Hark to herself. Your loyalty is admirable!! Loyalty is a great quality! A quality that good, strong leaders depend upon." He shrugs his shoulders and spreads his arms. "Unfortunately Hark was not a very good leader, as you ca see how most of the goblins here have quite readily shifted their allegiance to Snigbat. He also wasn't particularly strong, as his corpse now lies rotting a few chambers away." Darab'at takes an optimistic expression and motions his arms, offering encouragement "But please! Do not be distressed over the loss of Hark. For if you really think about it, Hark is no loss at all. This is actually a fantastic opportunity for both Mighty Nob AND Mighty Thog! Snigbat is now running the show in these caves. And Snigbat has many great qualities that, I'm sure you would have to admit if you thought about it, we most certainly lacking in weak old Hark. She's extremely sly, very clever. Hark certainly wasn't. She is VERY articulate, and speaks near perfect common. I never heard Hark speak with more than two-syllable words. Also, Snigbat is highly motivated, very much looking to get ahead. Old Hark was content to sit and play disgusting games with his pet rats. Hoping to seal the deal, Darab'at adopts a sales-pitch tone. "Snigbat sounds great, doesn't she? Well I've talked to her, and this is actually your lucky day, Might Nob and Might Thog! Even though Hark is gone, Snigbat admires your massive bulk and your mighty strength, and would LOVE for you both to now work with HER. I am sure you would have plenty of food and entertainment, just as it had been with Hark. And, of course, continued access to this lovely mudbath. All the same benefits as before, but with even better leadership. What a deal!" Looking serious now, the bard leans in. "So what sayeth you, Mighty Nob? And you, Mighty Thog? Are you willing to make the pledge? Are you willing to follow Snigbat's lead? I'd hate for her to change her mind before you've had the chance to come to your good senses and agree to pledge to her. That would be very sad. So sad. But I'm sure that ogres as strong, and might, and smart as yourselves wouldn't make THAT mistake. Ogres like that would probably want to go ahead and agree right away!" With that Darab'at cocks his head and awaits a response, very much hoping he hasn't made them angry

[Mostlymad]

Player Nominated: Olympia
Game: The All Realm: Flames of Heliandria
System: D&D 5e
GM: Olympia
Link: Link to post

Context: Heliandria is an island that is set to suffer the same fate as other cities built around an active volcano... even set in the same time period as Pompeii. The players are all members of a council that advises a human prince, Matthaios, who is set to become the first Human monarch in a world dominated by Elven kingdoms and the odd one off Dwarven kingdom. As players we must influence the Prince to get him to make decisions on scenarios set before us by the DM Olympia while competing with each other for his favor.

Our current debate centers on an evacuation of the island. There is only one problem, there is not enough space on the ships to take everyone. The council has been asked to give their opinion on the matters of how much to overload the boats and who to prioritize space to. We are halfway through providing our points when Olympia throws a monkey wrench into the situation by adding in Prince Matthiaos power hungry stepmother, the current Queen of Heliandria.

Reason for nomination: This was just a "flavor" post by Olympia meant to stir up and dilute the debate. But her ability to weave in different NPCs, respond to what was already posted by the players previously while so elegantly adding in another NPC to shake things up is truly commendable. It was so effective that her arrival and presence "sobered up" my own character, who at the time was advocating for a path based on emotional reasons instead of factual ones. It was her snide comments and hauty presence as described by Olympia that turned Luvon around and had him flip the Prince's decision from an emotional one for a more logical, sane path. If it wasn't for the timely and natural introduction of the Queen I'm sure things would have started going off the rails for us sooner rather than later.

 

The Queen of Heliandria As more ideas were laid before the Prince to consider, the less he appeared to react. Like an unseen balance, his mind weighed what was being presented to him, providing little in the way of approval or denial. But the more astute members of his makeshift council would know the strategy… although he was, indeed, weighing the pros and cons in silent deliberation, he was stalling. It was an open invitation for discussion, true, but it was discussion he intentionally wanted to buy him time. But given the growing chaos on the docks, hidden by only that thin veil of blue linen that served as both canopy and walls, it was unclear just what he was trying to buy time for. But as Luvon began, targeting the Prince and his delay, Matthaios' gaze was brought up in a quiet warning. However, no retort was offered. Instead, he listened… at least for a time. For behind the chimera, there was a notable shuffle of bronze greaves against the olive wood of the deck. Seeking out the source, the Prince watched as a half-dozen royal hoplites, denoted by their veil silk cloaks dyed aquamarine, stepped onto the deck of the Atlas. At the center of their tight formation, walking in almost perfect unison with her loyal guardians, was Damaris, Queen of Heliandria. With a faint motion of her hand, her guards fanned out, providing her an open path to the table where the group waited. There was something that set the elf apart from all others on the island. Perhaps it was her Amaranthine heritage, yet unsettling beauty that rivaled even that of other Empyrean elves. Her silver hair, gleaming like wisps of moonlight, contrasted against her dark, nearly black irises. A soft complexion, her skin was fairer than most Heliandrians, emphasized further by the midnight black of her chiton dress, embossed with subtle geometric patterns of gold along the edges. A translucent shawl of ivory silk draped her shoulders and arms, hinting at her slim figure beneath. A remarkably simple, single gold chain adorned her neck, with a smooth, obsidian stone pendant in the shape of an arrowhead. Her hair was held back in what looked to be at least a half-dozen braids, woven together in an intricate pattern with gold leaves, resembling an ivy vine coiling through her hair. Despite her regal appearance, however, there was something more to her than just lavish elegance. There was a command. Pausing just several feet behind Luvon, Damaris listened to the suggestion, her lips gently pursed and one finely-manicured eyebrow arched. As the chimera huffed, dramatically moving away from the table, she followed his movement to the edge of the deck. She took in a controlled breath then, turning away as he began to heave, and placed herself at the edge of the table where Luvon once stood. Ignoring the others there, she looked directly to Matthaios, lifting her chin in just the slightest. "My Queen," Matthaios said in Celestial, placing his left arm over his chest as he bowed his head. Just behind him, Halima followed suit, bowing her own head. Lady Messene, however, offered little more than a tilt of her head. "Where is the King?" She asked, her Celestial near perfect. "I expected him to be here by now." Pausing, the Prince took in a smooth breath, failing to break eye contact with the Queen. "He is at the temple," he said after several moments. "Preparing a sacrifice to the Gods." Damaris inhaled deeply, providing a slight glimmer of frustration. "Then perhaps you would be wise to send for him?" She looked to his surrounding cadre. "Your group of chimeras? Surely they could secure a safe passage for the King to the Trident?" "He will not come," Matthaios replied flatly. Arching her brow once more, Damaris shook her head. "I do not think sacrificing a goat will appease Belos now. He must know that," she said as she folded her arms beneath her shawl. It was at that moment that Matthaios finally broke their gaze, looking down at the table of parchment, scrolls, and tomes. "My father does not think the Gods are angry with a goat," he said slowly. "He believes them to be angry with him." Reluctantly, he brought his sight back up to the Queen, watching her intently as his words sunk in. At first, Damaris did not appear to fully grasp the meaning of the Prince's words. Her lips parted, prepared to offer her own retort. But before those first few syllables could be uttered, she stopped. It was as if a visible chill swept her body in that moment, breaking apart her perceived confidence and command. Decades of power and influence noticeably crumbled before her with Matthaios' choice selection of words. She blinked once, then a second time, as if suddenly forced to make a dangerous calculation that she wasn't prepared for. "And so the burden of the throne has fallen to you?" She asked carefully. Matthaios did not immediately react. But Messene did. With clear pride brightening her wrinkled expression, she smiled a joyless smile. "He is the Crown Prince of Heliandria," she stated slowly and cleanly. Looking to the human woman, Damaris watched her carefully for a handful of moments before looking back to Matthaios. She was silent, unmoving… for her mind was racing, pulling in a thousand different directions. Calculating. Prioritizing. "You are still their Queen," Matthaios said, a statement that seemed to surprise both Damaris and Messene, judging by the manner in which they both tilted their heads and narrowed their eyes. As if relieved, albeit temporarily, by his chosen words, Damaris nodded once. "We cannot load the ships as the chimera suggested," she stated with authority, referring to Luvon's idea. "And why not?" Matthaios asked, concealing any emotional reaction he may have had. "Who do you think lives closest to the docks?" She asked pointedly, allowing a few seconds to pass before continuing. "The wealth of Heliandria is not just locked up in coin and silk, but our people. Load these ones first," she said as she gently motioned to the crowds gathering at the docks. "And you load the least skilled, the least educated, and the least healthy of the population. Those with valuable connections, those with wealth that extends beyond this island, those with essential skillsets, the people we need to establish a new city all live further up, away from the smell of the harbor." She looked briefly to Melas then before returning to Matthaios. "Melas has already told me the numbers. The slaves and laborers, the vast majority of these people gathered here, will overwhelm the capacity of our fleet. I understand the sentiment of not wanting to place any one life above the value of another," she stated, though it was somewhat unclear how sincere she was. "But if Heliandria is to survive, we need our best with us. And these are not our best, no matter how grand or righteous of an argument you or anyone here can make." Matthaios parted his lips then as if to respond, but Damaris purposefully continued. "Loading those closest to the ships is an easy solution to an exceptionally complex and difficult situation," she said as she looked to Luvon once more. "It allows you to wipe your hands clean, giving fate and chance the power... and the blame when it all falls apart." She shook her head in clear disapproval, briefly glancing to the lone human councilor, as if aware that the original idea came from the freedman. "We need our nobility, Matthaios. We need our exemplaries, our artisans. Our shipwrights, architects, engineers, our scholars, and yes, even our poets. We need our philosophers, our teachers, and our hoplites. Do you think our priests and healers are in that crowd, desperate to abandon the city and their people?" She said, pointing again towards the near-deafening cries of the massive throng. "No. They are out there, in Sunveil, tending to the wounded and frail. They won't be here. But it is those people we must seek out and save first. If our ships are fast enough, Gods willing, we can return and save more." Taking in a deep breath, Matthaios leaned against his spear as he looked away from Damaris. The conflict within him was evident enough, but he appeared locked in place, unwilling to shift one way or another. "Even I am surprised to say it," came the words of Messene, breaking that momentary gap in discussion. "But I, for one, agree with the Queen. Matthaios, if you intend for us to simply be a fleet of skillless refugees, then do as these two visionaries have suggested -- save these desperate, terrified people. I'm sure the 40,000 slaves and laborers we save will stay undyingly loyal to you as we seek out a new home in a hostile world that wants to see you dead," she stated with obvious cynicism. "Surely, the Celestial nobles of Empyrea will see the value in your compassion and consider you one of their equals. Gods, the archon of Silverwall may be so inspired and touched by your kindness, that he'll ask you to guide his people and usher in a new era of prosperity?" "You've made your point, Grandmother," Matthaios stated finally, his words soft… defeated, perhaps. But it was enough to still her. Frustrated, he closed his eyes for several seconds, only to open them moments later. There was a fire burning there now, one that had not existed before. Looking up to his council, he shook his head. "Do not choose this moment to be silent. Heliandria is not lost. Speak."

DM Notes Well... my small post turned into another monster. Ugh. Sorry, not sorry! Please note that this is just a... umm... flavor (?) post. It is not intended to move the round on or end the debate. It is my way as your DM warning you in-game about the potential ramifications of your choices. At this stage, I am not going to have NPCs make rolls to convince the Prince. Maybe eventually in the future (and maybe only if a PC has made a deal with one). But honestly, I'd rather NPCs serve as sounding boards and idea generators, rather than "voters" like the PCs. My "main" DM post is still scheduled for Friday or Saturday where the round may move on and the debate may end. But I'm predicting it might get extended for one more week (giving everyone two new actions to take), judging on what I've seen so far. But I guess we'll see what happens!

[Qiksilv]

Player Nominated: Zinrokh
Game: Outplay 2019
System: D&D 5e
GM: Wynamoinen
Link: Link to post

Reason for nomination:There have been a lot of great posts in the Outplay Competition so picking one is difficult. If I had the time to re-read every thread I might chose differently however I really liked this post so, maybe I wouldn’t

I feel that Zinrokh did a great job presenting his character in his post. He had interactions with the other players and told a story of his personal past that felt very true to Ikol’s personality. All-in-all one of my favorites from Rounds 3 and 4.

 

Tell me a Story The last judge, as with those before him, softballs another question to the tragic-hero contingent of the Three... that would be the other two... Ikol sighed... and then not attracting enough attention sighed once more loudly and more dramatically. The jester then scrambled to his feet. "Firstly just for the record, the dwarfette accused me being an 'accountant' in her previous answer... such a statement is slanderous and false and I wish it stripped from the record" he whipped about to face Bethe "That coin was my coin, not someone else's. I do not count money for others or need anyone to count for me... don't go trying to force your heteronormative patriarchal socio-economic systems upon me, thank you very much." Well that's cleared up "Back to the question. I'm sure she has a answer for you... a real smooth one... a tear-jerker" Ikol stated suddenly agitated. "Oh, I left my darling Fajita... ooooohhhh my mummy issues.... ooooooooooohhhhhh wherefore art thou Magnus... Oh me family... for the greater good" Ikol gave Bethe a look that said 'I know what your up to'. Returning his attention to judges he continues... You got to take the fight to them now, Ikol. Like Granny used to say 'Crush your enemies, drive them before you and hear the lamentation of their lady folk' "I left my family too. I don't even know how many kids I got... huh? What?" Ikol paused to converse with his own likeness upon the tip of his sceptre "Forty-seven, where'd you get that figure from?... you were counting?... eww! you were watching?... but that's just the females?... what about the dudes?... pfft I'm preternaturally virile... none of them?.... biology-smilology..." Ikol tore himself from his inane tangent "Well i'm going to put a sack over you next time" He cleared his throat before continuing "My point was, once again this question really doesn't lend itself to the culture or the experience of those of other ethnic backgrounds... I mean no offense but other than the dark lord there... it's pretty 'white' in here. This setting needs diversity quotas... give us 'so-called' monstrous races a chance. "Goblins raise their children communally and we tend toward polyamory, so I'll be offering no heart renchers from that overused trope" Ikol smirked, withdrawing a potion of Giant's Strength from his vest "Nor do I have any substance abuse issues to share. My use of mushrooms is entirely spiritual and legal under Article 32 of the United Nations Convention on Psychotropic Substances act." . Ikol than took a sip of his brew, before turning the bottle up and letting the contents slosh upon the stone floor. Now where's that elf... "Now this guy, he's got issues, trust me I know. 'Kelly' was it, your Nilbog's name?" Ikol threw the accusation at Tobias indicating him for the court "Maybe together they can contrive a little tale for you, have you nodding alonging with it... something entirely relatable... Oh I'm a good person... Oh how fate turned upon me... Oh my innocence corrupted by an older more knowledgeable man... oh but my goodness shall triumph... yadda-yadda-yadda... conclusion 'I did it at a cost... for the greater good'" Ikol turned to Tobias suddenly his eyes feverish "You should be glad of your psychological parasite if it offers you any guidance" Ikol spun back pointing a clawed finger at an empty space between two judges "That! Is entirely UNHELPFUL! Those batari bastards have been dancing... clad in naught but their tiki masks for the last ten minutes..." At Ikol's anger the ghostly figures, (seemingly visible only to the jester), stopped their thrusting and gyrating, turned their masked faces to him and disappeared in puffs of smoke. A further etheral goblin, had scrambled onto Tobias' chair and was peering into the elf's ear. "Boss, that ain't no Nilbog, that's some dark booyahg, he's carrying" it offered before Ikol dismissed him with a thought. Ok, Ikol, maybe you should try and contrive an answer yourself now. Oh, Hammersted. Tell them about Hammersted, you were a hero that day... sort of. The Story of the Seige of the Human City of Hammersted The goblin host had lain siege to the walled city of Hammersted for little over a month. Our encampments encircling the city, denying them supply and aid. Such tactics did not sit well with me; in all my long years – all 10 of them – I had never mastered patience. I paced back and forth within my richly appointed pavilion, filled with the campaign's spoils. As always the host has set aside a fine dwelling for me. Such was the necessity of maintaining order amongst the goblins. A jester must be placated, least he turn to creating chaos and disorder amongst his own. I grabbed a finely wrought goblet from the table, filling it with harsh goblin wine, swirling and giving it a nose. he said as a sommelier might speak of a fine vintage. Then I grabbed a second goblet, the wine sloshing from the brim as I filled them. "Master Oakenleaf, drink with me" I requested of halfling merchant how had been my keeping as my 'guest', "Let us toast, to... to... us?" I ended with a shrug of my shoulders. The halfling took the proffered goblet, giving a worried look at its contents and wrinkling his nose at the pungent aroma somewhere between mushroom soup and sour wine. I turned from my captive draining my cup before tossing it over his shoulder to clatter upon the floor. "Master Oakenleaf, do you care for riddles?" The halfling looked up but was cut short of an answer as Ikol continued. "Of course you do." "Let me think now... of yes thats a good one Ikol" "My tongue is red, My hunger limitless as I spread, I grow and grow until I'm quenched, only when i'm really drenched, I lick and eat all I can, city, land, elf and man" "What am I?" I finished spinning around to face the halfling suddenly, making the halfling drop his goblet. "Well?" "A fire?" answered the halfling. A manic stare drained from my face replaced by thoughtfulness. "Yes, yes, quite so... a fine idea Master Oakenleaf, thank you". I stalked over to a nearby desk, picked up a scroll and gently, almost reverently placed it into a candle flame, watching the end catch. I approached a pile of spoils. My free hand stroked a priceless elven tapestry, taking in its strange beauty before touching the flaming scroll to its end and watching the fabric begin to burn. I spun about seeking other items - a wizard's tome, a pile of silken robes, the pillows and cushions upon his pallet - all were set ablaze. As if waking from a trance, My mind returned to me, as the tent filled with smoke, my face lit by the flames. "Master Oakenleaf, it has been a pleasure, it is only fair you be given a chance at freedom". I withdrew a key from his belt. The halfling's eyes went wide with sudden hope. I took a step toward the cage before halting. "too easy..." I grabbed a chest from the side, the halfling knew only too well what it contained. He had observed my neurotic self reveling in his collection of keys, I always claimed each one held a "a mystery to be unlocked". I dropped the cage key into the chest, closed the lid and gave it a good shake, before tipping the contents onto the floor before the cage. I gave a bow, before turning and skipping over to a table now half ablaze, picking up this sceptre and patting away the flames that had just begun to singe the edge of my satchel. With those belongings he skipped out of the tent humming cheerfully to myself to begin my travels throughout the world... "You might ‘why’ I choose this story to tell you. Well... The siege of Hammersted failed that day. The forces of the city sallied forth against an army in disarray, as they fled or fought to save their burning encampment. The people of the city heaped praise upon their unlikely hero... A halfling merchant who had escaped his wicked goblin captor. He had set the blaze that had saved the city. A simple halfling merchant with mismatched eyes and an odd brass sceptre the head of which bore the likeness of hideous smiling goblin... that hero was me... amazing where a little makeup can get you." Ikol ended. "Fire, loss, greater good, a hero even... and true story. I gave up everything that day, my people, my position, my life up to that point...I believe that meets the criteria of your question, your high Leafiness." Well that's the best an incarnation of chaos might offer.

*Please forgive the lack of formatting on the copy, the quote button is disabled on the Outplay thread.

[Silk]

Player Nominated: Qiksilv
Game: Outplay 2019
System: Pathfinder 1e
GM: Wynamoinen
Link: post is here.

Reason for nomination: I've found the last week of Outplay to have quite good posts. So much so that I was unable to come to a decision so I put it off before nominating a post. Since then two of the three players have received a POTM and I have decided to chose one of the posts for the third player as my POTM.

The post below is the one I found the most intriguing of Qiksilv's. While I liked the interaction between Tobias the Litch trapped within himself it was the way he answered the DM's question about the law that I liked best.

 

Tobias Lancaster Featuring Khelben Ishii "Pfft, teacher's pet" Tobias turned slowly and stared at the Goblin who promptly acted as if he hadn't been the one to mock him. Then Ikol then launched into his answer of Cuculainen's question which was surprisingly sensible. As the Nilbog returned to his place by him and Berthe Tobias met his eyes and nodded once. "Please don't encourage him." Khelebn warned, "I've met the insane like him before and they'll keep going for near forever." They were getting close. The Lich was counting the number of heads that still had to ask questions at the table and after this there would be fewer than half remaining. "Don't keep them waiting," he hissed at his host, "if they get bored they won't be as taken by what you say." After a quick glance at Berthe to make sure the Dwarf wasn't about to go Tobias stood once again to address the adjudicators of their fates. "Unless you are writing a tragedy it seems that a well-liked rule breaker and a just king make poor choices for just about any story. Once again the culprit, and theme, of the poor circumstances behind our world's problems are in fact unjust rules. However," Tobias gave a little bow to Cuculainen, "you seem to have specifically tried to steer away from the portion of this story that is ruled by law and delve into the more complicated idea;" Tobias sighed briefly as if he couldn't believe he was thinking along the same lines as the insane jester, "free will." The possessed Elf thought for a moment before continuing, "It seems to me that it would be easy for the Nine to intercede in everything. You certainly have the power and the means to have direct influence in nearly everything. So why wouldn't you? I know that there was a time when I would have wished with everything I had that you had stopped me from entering a certain tomb a decade ago. Just a flick of one of your fingers could have kept my brother and I from entering the dark tunnels that led to his death and my...problems." Khelben began to bristle but said nothing, yet. "Though meddling with my fate would have saved me lots of heartache there's no telling how different my life would be. I definitely would not be here. The events in that place made me the Elf I am today." "Ill take that as a compliment, Tobias." Ishii remarked smugly. He often told Lancaster that the reason the young Elf had accomplished anything was by the Lich's experience and link to the arcane and it finally sounded like his host was getting the right idea. "You should have almost died ages ago." The undead mage smirked in Tobias' mind. "Shut up, Khelben," Tobias said seemingly at random before smoothly transitioning back into his statements, "There were plenty of times I almost gave in to the presence inside of me. How many were likely to have died or been mutilated if that had happened? Of course the pertinent question is, could you have know all those years ago how I would have changed? I think the answer is, 'No'." "So if we go back to your story, Master Bard," he addressed the old man, "You absolutely did right to let the situation play out. Killing the king before he killed the man might have brought about the same situation. Killing the Man before the incident would been impressive but it still could heave been the catalyst that sparked a rebellion to take away the kingship. Perhaps the incident could have made the king realize his own shortcomings, de-crown himself and make the kingdom rulerless. Maybe the other kings see it working well and voluntarily abdicate their own thrones too." Tobias shrugged as if to say 'it could happen' before continuing on, "Of course that would be so unlikely that I think saying 'it would never happen' is justified." "What I think is that rules are important to maintain a functional society but, as we have already pointed out, an overabundance of rules actually makes society less functional and inhibits the ability of a person to be themselves. You could have arbitrated and ruled that the fighting ought not to happen instead of allowing the people who live in your protection to choose their own path but then the Nine would be the rulers of everything thus have eliminated their ability to choose their own path. It's sad when people beneath you make poor choices but as Ikol stated earlier, if they don't make their own mistakes they'll never learn. I might argue that one of the number one rules in your big old book is to not remove a person's ability to choose their own paths and that by controlling which side of the war won might have might begin to share ground with mass-murderers. What is murder but the ultimate act of free-will removal on a large scale?" "I can't help but feel like that was partially directed at me, Tobias." Khelben said with mock aggrievement, "I've told you before that some people just don't deserve to live. Some people are a drain on society, some impose their will cruelly over others, and well; some are just really annoying." Khelben directed their eyes towards the Nilbog but Tobias quickly pushed back and the mage didn't fight it. "Remember that just because I want to kill some who deserve it doesn't automatically make me a terrible being." Khelben's tone was just a little indignant but Tobias didn't have the energy to try and argue with his inner voice right now. The Elf had literally never spoken so much one sitting before in his life and was feeling very tired as a result of it; that and because he'd offered most of his life and energy to the control of the Nine. Tobias sank back into his stool and rubbed his head again while waiting for the Dwarf to give her response.

The post was uneditable so I had to recreate it myself. Hopefully, I didn't get the coloring wrong anywhere.

[JackinIrons]

Player: Yuul
Game: Portage: Rising from Ashes
GM: Kapera
Link to Post

Reason for Nomination: This game has been full of interesting events, investigative actions and a lot of intrigue. But this post really drives home the subtle intrigue that some of the others find. Alec, having learned things out in the world, is back with his clan so he can search for some answers. And having learned a few extra things, here he confronts, in his words, "My presumably loyal neonate servant,"... The way he weaves the dialogue is excellent, smooth but also vaguely threatening. It's the kind of post that sticks in my memory.

 

Originally Posted by Yuul