PotM July

[Admin Choc]

In the Netherlands, this Month is known for having a 6 weeks break from school. There are only two weeks to go, one with lots of tests and surveys and one week of wrapping up and so much freedom. I can not remember I appreciated it enough at the time though ;-)

With six weeks of no work (and still getting paid ofc ;-) I would open my laptop early in de the morning and enjoy reading and writing posts. Significantly, the posts nominated by our dear RPG followers, indicate that these posts deserve our time and attention. A nomination can be made to put a player in the spotlight, share some quality to read, learn, and hopefully be inspired.

--> Please note, you are welcome to nominate your own post, just to show us what you had written, be proud and share <3

Just a short summary of actions to take:

• Only nominate ONE post
• Pass us the link of the post (and/or copy~paste the post)
• Tell us your motivation why you liked (loved) this post, why do you think this post is the best op July?

That is it! Let's make this Month filled with nomination and make those judges work for their money

[Vex]

It's early in the month, but this Outplay post of tech failure over tech failure over tech failure and then just rolling with it made me giggle really hard. [b]squirmonkey[b]'s David is believably panicking, and believably making the wrong choices.

https://www.rpgcrossing.com/showthre...19#post9721719

[Elanir]

July PotM nomination Player: Lazer Game: Dragons of a Broken World: A Dragonlance Age of Mortals Campaign System: DnD 5e DM: Elanir Reason: Lazer’s character, Devari, is a young woman who lives by her wits, her looks and whatever skills her mother, a performer, taught her before abandoning her at a tender age. In a world where most individuals, orders of knights and mages and other powerful organizations devote themselves to lofty ideals and gods of light, dark and twilight, Devari chooses to remain smart, practical and unaffiliated with anything and anyone that might force her to put another’s interests over her own. Her worldview is turned upside down, however, when she finds herself the prisoner of evil knights who condemn her to death for reasons that are sketchy at best. Instead of accepting her fate or attempting to escape, she chooses to incite a revolt among the people who came to watch her execution. She succeeds, but at a cost to herself and the city. Devari has to part with her beautiful hair and watch as the rebellion is quickly and apparently effortlessly put down by the Dark Knights. Devari escapes in the confusion and is sheltered by a friendly barmaid and a kind half-ogre alchemist, but she feels changed and not simply because of the loss of her hair. Once more she doesn’t give up and tries to reinvent herself. Her first steps in doing so are described in the post that follows. Post link: Devari the survivor.   "They knew this would happen." The words of the Khurish warrior (who turned out to be Blyne, of course it was, why hadn’t she seen it?) haunted Devari as they traversed the secret route Jeljin led them along. Devari had known that Dame Romira was a formidable foe, and yet she had still underestimated her. She had been conned. She was supposed to be the one doing the conning! It was humbling, humiliating even. She had done all this because that was what the Adjudicator had wanted! Jeljin climbed the rope ladder with a careless nimbleness, which perhaps led Devari to be complacent. Or perhaps it was because she was preoccupied, with the song and the thoughts of Dame Romira jostling for position at the forefront of her mind. Whatever the real cause, Devari found herself spinning so that her back was to the wall, and as she did so something in her briefs loosened. The jar which she had found the previous evening had been rolled up in the waistband at the small of her back, and now it had come loose and fallen down to the cuff on her right ankle. She froze, hugging the ladder to her chest, but everything seemed to have come to a rest. She looked down, seeing Blyne just out of reach below. "Uh, could you just climb up a bit and… watch out!" The jar had worked its way loose once again and slid out of her briefs, plummeting down to smash on the cobbles below. Bits of glass and ichor spread all over, covering Blyne’s feet. "That was just… I don’t know what that was but it looked nasty. Sorry." She managed the rest of the climb a little more carefully and followed Jeljin over the rooftops, trying to keep her mind on the job at hand rather than wandering the way that it had before. She was just crossing a narrow beam over an alleyway when she heard a scream behind her and, slowly and carefully, she turned to see Blyne hanging off the beam, with just one foot and one arm hooked over it. She shuffled back and crouched, helping the other woman (in the guise of a Khurish warrior) to climb back up. Blyne managed to crawl along the beam to the other side, but then could not stand, her ankle was purple and starting to swell up. "I don’t think it’s broken," Devari said, trying to inject confidence into her voice despite her doubts. "You’ll be fine, just lean on me." Fortunately there weren’t any more big jumps, so between the three of them they made it to Old Omar’s Oddities safely. Devari regarded the shack dubiously, but she had to trust Jeljin, who knew the city far better than Devari ever would. Devari accepted Jeljin’s embrace and didn’t want to let go, she felt so much gratitude for everything that the barmaid had done, everything that she had risked. "Thank you, Jeljin," she said, tears in her eyes. "Please be safe. I hope to see you again soon, in a free Pashin." She watched the young woman go and then turned in time to see a shockingly ugly woman greeting them at the door of the shack. She noted the ogreish features, and also the way that the woman seemed taken aback at Devari’s appearance. That was something she would need to deal with soon. She smiled warmly as she entered the shack, and was about to introduce herself when the woman stopped her, saying that she would rather not know. That was probably wise, she decided. "Thank you," she said instead. "Your hospitality is most welcome. B… uhm, this brave warrior has hurt his ankle, please take care of him first. I will just… do you have a mirror?" For somebody who had always taken pride in her looks, the visage which greeted her was hard to accept. She seemed to be looking at some horror from the darkest of plays, something leeched of life. She had to make herself stare unflinchingly at her reflection for a number of heartbeats before she was able to see herself. These are my cheekbones, she thought, tentatively brushing one with her fingertips. The tear stains will wash off. And this is my nose. My lips. My chin. It was the top of her head which was the hardest to accept, however, and she could feel new tears welling up as she leaned forward for a better look. My hair! Why did I do this? It had been needless. If Blyne was correct, and she usually was, then Dame Romira would have found a way to ignite the crowd anyway. Devari could probably have said and did nothing and the outcome would have been the same. Just two days earlier her hair had been a melodious chorus, a breathtaking, uplifting aria which had both defined and enhanced her other features, and now… "A dirge," her reflection told her. There were angry red cuts criss-crossing her scalp, obstinate tufts of hair still clinging on to what they had once been. She reached up and rubbed her hand over it. "Should be good for the desert, anyway," she said, trying to drum up a wry smirk. "I won’t be so damn hot all the time." She found a razor amongst Klaudia’s things and, after smearing some lotion over her scalp, she drew it resolutely from her forehead to the back of her neck, wincing as she managed to reopen some cuts. Tutting, Klaudia bustled over and took the blade, assuring Devari before she could protest that the warrior was resting and so she was no longer needed there. Devari watched as the monstrous woman, with infinite care and grace, removed what was left of the hair from her head. Her face seemed thinner, gaunt, without its unruly frame, but she thought that perhaps, with time, once the cuts had healed, she could find beauty in her shiny head. "Was it long, before?" Klaudia asked. "So long. When I was bathing I wouldn’t have needed any clothes to maintain my modesty, wet it would wrap all my bits quite nicely. But dry it was curly, very tight curls, so it just all bunched up around my head like the leaves on an oak tree. It was spectacular for dancing, it was like a whole separate partner, bobbing and twirling on its own." Klaudia smiled at the description. "It will grow back, you know." "Eventually," Devari conceded. "Probably five or six years to get as long as it was. And who knows what I’ll be doing then." "You’ll be dancing, I’ll bet." Devari laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh. It felt good, like a gentle reminder that there was still some good in the world, if you just knew where to look. That was when Klaudia brought out the needle and ink, and offered to draw a tattoo. Devari stared into the eyes of her reflection for what felt like a very long time. She had always avoided any kind of permanent mark or piercing because she might need to become somebody completely different tomorrow. A tattoo was not just a pretty drawing, it was a statement. It said, ‘this is me, and this I shall always be.’ "Yes, please." she said, holding out her left arm. The pain was sharper and more intense than she had expected, but after a few seconds she understood how it could be endured. As long as it was constant, unchanging, it could be forgotten, or at least ignored. She wondered if she could learn a similar trick for the guilt. "Can… can I sing you a song?" she asked, realising that the operation was likely to take some time. "And could you translate it for me? It’s in Khurish." And so, as the woman wrought art on her outside, Devari dredged her own art from her inside. She sang quietly, not wishing anyone outside of the room to hear the song, and accompanied herself only with some light slaps on the table rather than the bold drumbeats she heard in her mind. Despite those limitations it felt good to get the song out, she imagined it was vaguely similar to giving birth, in a way. When she finished Klaudia stopped what she was doing, carefully put down the needle on a scrap of linen, and regarded Devari seriously. "Where did you hear that song?" she asked. "You know it?" "No." Klaudia looked thoughtful. "At least… I don’t think I’ve heard it before, but it’s very familiar." "What does it mean?" And so, resuming work on the tattoo, the pair went through the song again, line by line, until they had No wall can stop the desert sands, No fist can hold the rain, No word can halt Thon-Thalas’ flow, Or wash away our pain. The storm, the storm, is coming! One heart, one voice, one urge! The storm, the storm, is coming! The time has come to purge! A sword may strike but cannot pierce, The heart of proud Pashin, The land runs red with Khurish blood, The proud Mikku demeaned. The storm, the storm, is coming! One heart, one voice, one urge! The storm, the storm, is coming! The time has come to purge! Beware the bear awakening, Its slumber nears its end, Invaders face a reckoning, Their fate has them condemned. The storm, the storm, is coming! One heart, one voice, one urge! The storm, the storm, is coming! The time has come to purge! The sand storm scours the city clean, The streets will breathe anew, The insects which infest our land, Leave shells to pay debts due. The storm, the storm, is coming! To scour the streets of sins, The time has come for cleansing, So be the desert wind!a good translation. Devari nodded. "I knew what it meant, even though I didn’t understand the words." "You have a gift." "Ha! People have been telling me that my entire life. I always wanted to believe them." "But you never did?" Devari said nothing. She had been given a lot to think about. Klaudia would take regular breaks from the work, both to ‘let the skin heal’ and to attend to the customers who came into the other room of the shop. During these intervals Devari returned to Blyne, eager to engage in the mentorship that the shapeshifter had promised. Blyne looked a little dubious, but to Devari’s delight agreed to the plan. The techniques which Blyne showed her to centre herself proved difficult, and Devari’s patience was wearing thin. She needed to get some control over this ‘power’, because so far it seemed to be calling the shots, and that was not a situation that she felt comfortable continuing. It hadn’t exactly been working out great so far, had it? It was when Blyne was talking about the theory behind the exercises that things began to make some sense. "The power of the heart lies within our emotions," she had said. "But it is a reprehensible failing to let your emotions steer you. Falling to your emotions must be avoided. To master the power of the heart, you must master your emotions first." Yes, that was what she had been thinking! Maybe the meditations which Blyne used worked for her, but that didn’t necessarily mean they would work for Devari, who was not only from a very different background, but also a completely separate race! Hadn’t she already learned to master her emotions? Wasn’t that what acting was all about? "No," Blyne had told her, perhaps a little too sharply. "Just controlling your face is not at all what counts. It's a simple thing to just practice some expressions that are lies about what you're feeling, but it is something else entirely to control your heart." The rebuke stung, and so during the next session with Klaudia, Devari tried practicing the technique which Blyne had shown her, eyes closed, examining and dismissing any emotion which bobbed to the surface. The problem was that her emotions weren’t so easily dismissed, they just kept coming back over and over, if anything growing stronger each time. "Mastery comes only with time and practice. With disciplined repetition," Blyne informed her when Devari conveyed this observation to her. "I do not expect you to learn this quickly. It may take years. Decades even." During her next tattoo session Devari decided to forget about meditation and instead found herself singing Harr Omel under her breath. Klaudia, looking more annoyed than Devari had seen her so far, put down the needle and glared. "If you must sing, please choose something else. The colours of the wings are delicate. Subtle. I need to be calm and Harr Omel makes me want to go outside and smash a knight’s face." Devari obliged with the best grace she could manage, singing a Nordmaarian ballad which her mama had always loved, but right at that moment she too would have been happier going out into the streets and just doing something. The song is still in control! If I don’t get it in hand soon I’m going to end up dead on the spear of some Nerakan infantryman, and this whole destiny I’m supposed to have will end right there. She watched Klaudia working, and fortunately the new tune seemed to be calming her, as the wings of the faerie dragon were being conjured into being with an exquisite delicacy. "I could just change the tune!" Devari gasped. Klaudia frowned. "You already did." "I did for you, I mean for me!" Klaudia didn’t seem any less confused. "Music is the key to the heart. That’s what my mama always said, and she was… well, for once she was right." Mysticism, the Power of the Heart. Music was the key. It was all so simple, so obvious, so clear. "So what do I do with this information?" she asked Blyne during the next break. Blyne looked at Devari pensively for a moment. Then she relented. "There is much power in music, as much as there is in song. It centers the thought, and it flows through us, guiding us and informing us. Song may be one of the strongest forces in the universe, there are many ancient traditions like that. It's not... how I thought of the mystic arts before. But if music helps you find order within your heart, then maybe this would be right for you to pursue." Even after she had said it, Blyne looked away thoughtfully for a while, as if something had been left unsaid. But she didn't deign Devari with whatever she had on her mind. The day stretched on, sometimes seeming like night would never fall, but eventually the sky grew red and the oppressive heat of the day started to ease up a little. The tattoo was unclear under the scabbing, but from what Devari could see it would be beautiful. The wings, which Klaudia had worried so much about, were iridescent, a blend of colours much like the wing of a butterfly. The dragon itself was just launching into the air, and seemed to be winking at the viewer, as though sharing in some cunning prank. It was everything which the ogress had promised, and more. Devari could feel the way that the magical ink was interacting with her own nebulous power. There was potential there, she could feel it. Before leaving Devari once again took a long look at herself in the mirror. She had cleaned herself up, borrowed some clothing, the salve which Klaudia had applied to her cuts was already doing it’s job making them look a little less angry, and now for the first time she noticed a new hardness in her eyes. She would be leaving her old self behind in Pashin, and she still wasn’t quite sure who this new woman who looked back at her was. She knew that the city, for good or ill, had also been changed. Whether it had been Romira’s plan all along made no real difference, it had been Devari’s actions which had prompted this uprising, and she would forever carry that responsibility. She knew that her friends were waiting for her, that they shared a destiny far from here, but she still felt ashamed that she had stirred up this hornets nest and was leaving others to deal with it. "I will return," she promised Klaudia as they were leaving. "Somehow. I’ll find a way to rid Pashin of the Knights." However much she meant those words, they still sounded hollow.   Actions Move: Action: Bardic Inspiration on Blyne Ready Action: Bonus Action: Reaction: Interaction: Contingencies: Concentration: Notes: I had hoped to get an updated photo of Devari for this post, but all of my attempts at sweet-talking an AI into providing one have come to nought.   Stat Block Devari Marossa | Human | Bard | Level 2 HP: 22/22 | AC: 13 | PP: 12 | Initiative: +4 | Speed: 30ft | Inspiration: 0 Stats: Str 10 (+0) | Dex 16 (+3) | Con 16 (+3) | Int 12 (+2) | Wis 12 (+1) | Cha 18 (+4) Saves: Dex +5 | Cha +6 Attacks: Attack +5 ; 1d4+3 slashing damageDagger Skills: Deception +6 | Insight +3 | Persuasion +6 | Sleight of Hand +5 | Stealth +5 Languages: Common, Nordmaarian Equipment: Bloodied and torn undershirt and briefs, Flute, Boots, PouchWorn/Carried | 2 steel, 9 silver, 5 copper, tiny bell wrapped in fleece, signet ringPouch Abilities Lady Veralyne of Staughton Have documents, acquaintances, disguise and signet ring Can also forge documents if you have seen an example False Identity | +1 to Charisma Advantage on saves against being charmed, frightened, paralyzed, petrified, poisoned and stunned Kit’s Grin | Bonus Action to grant 1 creature within 60 feet a Bardic Inspiration die to add to an ability check, attack roll or saving throw within 10 minutes. Recharges on Long RestBardic Inspiration (D6) 2/4 | Add half proficiency bonus, rounded down, to any ability check you make that doesn't already include your proficiency bonus.Jack of All Trades | If a creature has a Bardic Inspiration die from you and casts a spell that restores hit points or deals damage, the creature can roll that die and choose a target affected by the spell. Add the number rolled as a bonus to the hit points regained or the damage dealt. The Bardic Inspiration die is then lost.Magical Inspiration Spellcasting Cantrips: Minor Illusion | Vicious Mockery 1st level (3/3): Charm Person | Command | Dissonant Whispers | Heroism | Tasha’s Hideous Laughter

[Fillyjonk]

July PotM nomination DM/Poster: Jbear Game: The Amazing RPG Race; The Wild Misadventures of Burnapolia Bronkus System: Grit and Grace (Jbear’s rules light system) Reasons: In a game that challenges a DM and a Player to complete a simple race module with only 48 posts in only 48 hours, Jbear opened with this - Bascially a CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE BOOK of a post, with clever FAIL and SUCCESS mechanics that let me proceed through as many challenges as the dice (and my own nerve) allowed. High risk, high reward, high fun - and he is utilizing a Rules Light system he invented and taught me. Just A+ fun DMing AND a great and creative use of site mechanics and BB code. Post: Link   A Twist from the Start Nothing is as rare as the Euphoria of standing down wind when a Fairie Dragon breaks wind or belches. The Circle of Two Moons, a cabal of the wickedest purveyors of dark magics withing the fey realms, know this and have sought to harness Fairie Dragon essence for weeks. There in their Dark Tower at The Centre of Things, their wicked experiments have nearly reached fruition. Soon very soon the most beautiful and the most amazing and the most spectacular and the most fabulous and the most wonderful and the most amazing (did I say that one already?) faerie dragon ever to bless existence with her presence, Bernadette Baylee Buttons, will soon be absorbed into The Circle's wicked tubes where she will be bubbled into an iridescent liquid by a foul bunsen burner until she coalesces into a fine spray and funneled into a perfume bottle where she will become nothing more than a Euphoria dispenser for evil fairy eating junkies. And they might have gotten away with it if it wasn't for ... Trumpets sound... Nay not trumpets... A glorious choir sings... Nay trumpets lift the voices of a glorious choir to new heights as our hero appears! You... I'm talking about you Burnapolia ... if that's your real name! And so it was, just as Beebee Buttons was about to be shoved into a bulbous beaker to be boiled by a bloody bunsen burner, Burnapolia burst in and the whole laboratory went bottoms up! With Burnapolia was her trusty crew of sidekicks she had recruited, evil wizards unhappy with their paygrade, evil assisstants who figured getting on Burnapolia's good side was definitely the best way to escape the dreaded Friend Zone! There was magic! And shouting! Some stuff got broken! And Beebee's rescue was assured until ... creeeeeek! The laboratory side door opened. You know, the one with the neon pink sign that read BBEG THIS WAY! Poor Burnapolia ... if that was her real name... her limbs froze. Yes, you Burnie... your limbs froze. You were doing great, but then it went to ****, okay? Burnapola's trusty side kicks also froze. I'm pretty sure one of them wet themselves, cos that wasn't mango juice pooling around his shoe. Spidery legs came in through the terrifying side door, and the master of the Dark Tower made his dreadful presence known. "Disturbing my process, unthinkable! Disturbing my Cucumber and Cream Brownie Brunch? Unforgivable! You think I don't see you for what you are, you meddlesome gnat? Take the intruders. Strap them into the Mind Prism Apparatus until I have finished my brunch." The big bad evil guy, Great Mortigorn the Greatest, was a terrifying arachnid with the torso and head of a very old elf with very droopy skin, especially around the nipples. He had left his pointy hat on... but like, that was it. Shudder! His two evilest assistants, Evil Assistant Thicke, the chunkiest evil fairie the fey world has ever known, and Evil Assisstant Thinne, a long limbed pixie who stood nearly seven feet tall, but who disappeared when he turned sideways, snatched the pesky undercover fairie and her 'freinds'. Thinne and Thicke took off Burnapola and her buddies' shoes (for Burnie was in disguise in a kind of humanish form), strapped them into a convoluted machine with pointy needles and metal braces which were bound to their skulls and jammed weird red pointy-toed socks onto their feet. The Great Meance, for that is another of the names Mortigorn had sanctioned his underlings to call him by (there is a whole list; don't get me started), loomed over poor, rather ordinary looking Burnapola Bronkus. He grinned a rotten toothed grin and stabbed her with the sharp point of his spidery bottom. Right in the neck he stabbed her. The room spun. It spun round and round. Down the rabbit hole we go!! Spinning Round and Round Not just the room spins. The whole house spins. It trembles at first, the howling winds outside banging the shutters and doors. No sign of beakers or bunsen burners. Your world melts into brown and lighter brown. All the nasty alchemical gadgetry, years of knowledge tortured from potato-nosed gnomes, melts into homely walls, plaid table cloths on a dining table set with supper for four, rustic paintings (you know the one with that bald guy holding a pitchfork next to his wife ...yeah, that one), and just the dandiest rug on the polished wood floor. Not a house, a cottage really. It trembles and tears free from the ground, lifted into the sky by the ferocious twister within your mind. There is so much spinning you spit your supper onto your feet. Your bare feet! Where are your shoes, now? It is hard to recall much of anything as you hide beneath the dining table, holding firm to your trembling pup. Wait... no, not a pup. A goop of mud. A hunk really. But the hunk is alive and its not trembling. It's you trembling and its the hunk holding you firm, comforting you until the world stops spinning. The house lands with a crash! And a bonk! And a whoops! And a scream! When the fear subsides, and it subsides quickly as you remember that poor Beebee is about to become perfume, you poke your head out from under the table and notice several things around the house. Firstly, there is a lump under the rug and a long metallic tail runs out from beneath it, twitching from side to side. If you investigate the lump under the rug   There is an metallic growl and the tail twitched more swiftly. "Go away! I have no heart for any more of this!! It's too scary!!" a feline voice whines. Challenge 1: Calm the terrified kitty Requires 1 success before 1 Failure   From beneath the rug, a trembling metal line crawls, standing to his feet and holding his twitching tail. His eyes glow red and his voice crackles with static. "Flipper. Bee boop. Flipper Moon. That's my name. I...I...I can't say why, but I'm real scared ... of well... just about everything. Beep. I have this feeling something is wrong with me. And something bad is going to happen. Beeboo beep. You seem real brave. Boop. And you seem about to go somewhere else. Can I come with you?" Secondly that picture with the weird couple stading in the field with the pitchfork, the woman is gagged and she is definitely waving at you. It doesn't seem like she is waving hello either. If you investigate the pixelated painting   Challenge 1: Extract the Imprisoned Woman Requires 1 success before 1 Failure   It works! The woman pixelates in the picture. Pixels ripple reality in front of you and she appears at your side, still gagged. She mumbles something impossible to understand beneath the gag but the old woman gives you two thumbs up, punches the painting and then follows you everywhere you go. Over by the hearth stands a metal man, frozen in place. He stands with his back to you, bent over the logs stacked there as though he were tending the fire. There above the hearth sits a collection of ceramic owls. Amongst the owls is a glowing black hexagonal block. The metal man has several hexagonal shaped orifices visible. One in his head. One in his chest. One between his shiny buttocks. Might there be a connection? If you investigate the frozen figure by the hearth   Challenge 1: Activate the Metal Man Requires 1 success before 1 Failure   You figured it out! There was a connection. The hex glows in its new orifice and the metal man whirrs into a standing position. "Beebeedibeeeep! Online. AI Chat functions engaged. Help Protocol ... sending... sending..." A scraping sound of a dial up connection grates your ears. It continues for a really long time. And its a really annoying noise. When it ends the metal man whirrs at the torso to face you. "... Hello. Alpha Conchcept a-a-a-a-at your service. How mayyyy I help? No matter what you say, Alpha's response is "I'm sorry, my service provider is c-c-c-currently offline. Is there anything else I can help y-y-y-you with?" When you move, Alpha follows you with whirring steps, pointing out the obvious. Lastly, there is a magnificent commode with two locked drawers stading on the wall opposite the hearth beneath the painting. If you investigate the drawers of the comode   Challenge 2: Requires 2 successes before 1 Failure   Your skilled fingers have found a way. The lock of the first drawer turns. You pull out the drawer, but instead of glittering treasures there are only glittering lights and buttone inside. The top of the commode opens up to reveal a window with glowing letters that scrawl across it. <<Input code:_>>   Stupid code! Stupid dumb buttons for brains. Bashing it was what it needed. The screen glitches and scrawls with new letters. <<Prism Protocol 2: engaged>> <<Status: Online>> <<Subjects: 5>> <<List: ::Alphonia Conch: rogue underling status: requires update ::Greta Gortmorn: disgruntled assistant status: requires update ::Flipper Moon: enamoured Tearoom clerk status: requires update ::Unknown Subject: ALERT:faerie dragon origin status:missing >> send ALERT <<ALERT: Evil Assistant Thinne: SENT>> <<Response: badly wounded. Help! Get this fookin thing off me!>> <<ALERT2: Evil Assistant Thicke: SENT>> <<Response: en route now. Just finishing my hobbit muffin. Be there in 5 xoxox> CRRRCH! Statickey noise. A face pressed to a screen. A gorgeous unforgettable face marred by the absence of her majestic unicorn horn. The face of an angel, a fairie dragon angel."Crispienne? Is that you? Help me please. Don't leave me here! Why did you leave me here? Did you go downstairs? Come back and get me out of this beaker this instant! I mean... darling! Booboo! I love you! I have some meta.-knowledge I have to give you, so that you can find your way out of the evil wizard's mind prism! Follow the golden swirling snake! But hurry up about it!!"Static! ANd then she is gone, the screen blank. Maybe you were a bit rough after all. Through the window outside, birds tweet gaily and the only door is ajar revealing a yellow bricked path leading from the porch. When you step outside ... well that's as far as you can go for now. I'll let you know what you see when we know how you step outside and whether you venture outside alone. OOGM You can interact with as many of the situations as you like or none at all and simply step outside! You can investigate everything too! Open the spoliers in the order you investigate them. If you beat the DC, open the spoiler that reveals what happens inside. And then carry on until you either FAIL a roll (see degrees of failure for details) OR you want to head outside. I will make my next post at either of those two junctures. Good luck!! Grit&Grace You begin the game with 1 point of Grit and 1 point of Grace. Grit may be earned by heroic physical deeds and brave and bold actions. Grace may be earned with subtle, witty, clever mental or social actions   Grace may only be applied to mental or social situations. Spend 1 point: Option 1: Gain Advantage Option 2: Re-roll any d20 roll including a failed roll that already has advantage Option 3: Increase a successful roll's degree of success automatically by 1 Spend 2 points: Recharge a power (PC or Pocket Monster) Spend 3 points: Go FULL GRACE > take GM sanctioned narrative control of the current situation > roll 3xd20 to surpass the DC set by GM (usually 10) > degrees of success still apply   Grit may only be applied to physical situations. Spend 1 point: Option 1: Gain Advantage Option 2: Re-roll any d20 roll including a failed roll that already has advantage Option 3: Increase a successful roll's degree of success automatically by 1 Spend 2 points: Recharge a power (PC or Pocket Monster) Spend 3 points: Go FULL GRIT > take GM sanctioned narrative control of the current situation > roll 3xd20 to surpass the DC set by GM (usually 10) > degrees of success still apply Skill Challenge DC10 Goal: Activate as many companions as possible and discover information about your situation You require 5 successes before 1 failure. Each different ability the PC uses (after the first) lowers the DC by 1. The DC for the Pocket Monster is always 10. Design Note The challenge is designed to allow the player to interact with the situation and interpret their rolls using context clues, Special Notes may appear hidden beneath spoilers which can be read ONLY if a certain action is taken or a Ability check DC surpassedGM spoiler notes, and coherent logic to advance the narrative as far as possible by themselves, making multiple ability checks until either A) they roll a significant failure which requires a GM response or B) they feel they can logically go no further without GM input. The GM may tweak the player's narrative slightly in the follow up post if it changes a major plot point or mystery a shade too far for the adventure structure to remain coherent.   Success by less than 5: action is successful but with difficulty Success by 5+: action is easily successful Success by 10+: major success > DM will offer a significant advantage next update Crit Success: Reality defying success > Unique opportunities that did not previously exist (Go nuts)   Failure by less than 5: barely failing > make a significant sacrifice to turn this into a success Failure by 5+: significant failure > this ends your ability to proceed with the challenge until the GM updates events in the next post. Failure by 10+: dramatic failure > this ends your ability to proceed with the challenge as above and the risks and dangers increase Crit Failure: Roh Roh Shaggy > The situation worsens dramatically with the introduction of new unexpected dangers

[

[lostcheerio]

July POTM Player: penbeast0 DM: lostcheerio Game: The Gates of Paradise System: D&D 5e Reason for Nominating: penbeast0 had several great accomplishments in this game. One was to finish this one-shot in under two weeks, as part of The Amazing RPG Race, by making at least daily and sometimes four-times-a-day posts. The second was to create and inhabit this historical/magical world of an augmented 15th century Florence, which he and I were making up on the fly as we played. The third, and this was a big one, was to play two characters at once -- an inquisitor and a dissident. Father Con and Ignatio were directly opposite in doctrine, and the details of their personal lives made them excellent foil characters. However, playing them paired together, harnessed to one mission as one team -- that was a real writing challenge. In this post, he shows them both breaking free from some magical vines, and preparing for battle against a violent strega, a witch. I really appreciated how he involved each PC in his own way, making sense of their combined forces even as they expressed their individuality. Link to the post: I Was Just Leaving / Can't Touch This   I was just leaving The first warning came from Randall. Up over the entrance of the house, he saw the flowers grow pale and grow up over the house. "Oh master dear. Looks like someone is sending you flowers," he warned, as directed. As Con saw the bloom start to fill the door and windows, this actually made sense. As he roused, he saw Gerifalco start. "Get out, brother. Get into the sky. Now. This is more of that same evil magic." Con hesitated. The child, he needed to rescue the Albizzi child. The vines started to wind their way around his ankles and up his legs, Yes, a 1 on initiative (+3=4)he could feel himself slowing, growing pale and the world starting to lose color like the flowers. Instinctively, but slowly, far too slowly, his great wings spread and he pulled himself up and out of the entanglement until he touched the rough stucco ceiling, then twisting and diving out the door and into the air out of their white embrace. Con looked to see if Gerry and the child had gotten out as well, before scanning the backstreet beneath him seeking the strega. It had to be her and on this plane, her magic should be limited in proximity which should mean she was hiding somewhere in sight. If the other inquisitor had not gotten free, Con blasts the doorway with sacred flame to free him an exit. If Gerry is in sight, he looks around for the Strega wildly before another message from Randall: "Yoohoo, master, look over toward the piazza, in the doorway across the street." "Witch, I challenge you to a duel. If I win, I get you back your changeling tool. If I lose, you give me all the answers that I seek and you return to your lands, swearing never to return to this mortal realm. Intimidation natural 20+5=25If you fail to accept this challenge, you will die here and ne'er see the feywilds again." Can't touch this A warning jangle sounded in Ignatio's brain and he smelled a faint, disturbing perfume in the air. Around the corners of the buildings, vines laden with translucent white flowers Initiative 11had already started to twine. Magic, he breathed to himself, foul fey magic of field and flora. Seeing the entrance to the alley already filling with the deadly vines, he turned and Acrobatics 20dashed the other way, vaulting over the low wall at the other side of the alley and out into the crowded street. The strega must be back by the other priest's house. Ignatio sprinted around the walled garden of the opposing house before slowing into a stealthy approach. "Perception 17Sunny, find the witch creature. Then, when I am in position, distract her so I can take her down." Ignatio used the long early morning shadows to advantage, Sneak 19easing up to where he could see the priest's house and its approaches while Sunny fed him information. He did not want to kill this witch; she held the ability to give Baccano back his beak and wings. But she was not going to give anything without a fight. He had to put her down and make her trade Baccano's true form for her life. He eased his crossbow into his hands, a quarrel notched and tensioned automatically. He heard the inquisitor issue his challenge. Fine. But this was his fight too and he was not staying clear.

[zevonian]

Nominee, the GM - rhaiber
Game, Completed - Whispers in the Aether, Mysteries of Magic and Machinery
System, Chosen - Rules Light, with nods to DnD 5e mechanics and cheating by me
Nomination, Reasons - There are 24 posts created by the same GM in the same month for the same game that I could nominate here. A staggering amount of effort and creativity, all for a solo game. Trust me when I tell you there's a staggering amount, for if there's one thing I know a bit about here, it's solo games.

This game is different. It's film noir and sci-fi and fantasy and steampunk and has a soundtrack at the end. The story takes big twists in big hurries. The time stamps on the posts and the words within said posts will prove that. As the actual post for nomination, I'm choosing the very first GM post in the rhaiber and zev story in a lostcheerio curated anthology. I urge you to read the story in whole. Word is the ending can make you teary eyed. Link will be at the end of the post for your consideration and convenience.

 

1. Welcome to New Avalon City The city slumbers beneath a shroud of smoke and mist, its jagged silhouette etched against a leaden sky. New Avalon, your city, the place where dreams went to unravel or soar. Tonight, it wears the worn face of melancholy, and you are about to dive headfirst into its darkest corners. Rain pelts the brim of your fedora as you step out of the auto-carriage taxi, its staccato rhythm merging with the distant wails of sirens. The streets, once bustling with ambition and promise, now pulse with an undercurrent of secrets and whispered confessions. Each raindrop reflects the dim glow of streetlights, casting a distorted mirror upon the wet asphalt, mirroring the twisted soul of this urban jungle. You pull your trench coat tighter around you, the weight of the city settling on your shoulders like a burden you can’t shake. It is a night where shadows dance with secrets, and the air is thick with unspoken truths. From the towering heights of Grove Avenue to the grimy alleyways of the Lower Dungeon Side, You know that within this sprawling metropolis, lies and deceit slither like serpents beneath the surface. You light a cigarette, watching tendrils of smoke curling into the night, obscuring your face in a veil of mystery. With every inhale, you absorb the essence of this city, its desperation, and its hunger. It is a place where fortunes were made and shattered, where loyalty is a rare currency, and betrayal lurks around every dimly lit corner. Tonight, you are stepping into the breach, chasing the flickering embers of justice in a world drenched in shadows. New Avalon is your hunting ground, and you, Phineas Meritt, are the hunter. With grit in your teeth and determination in your heart, you plunge into the labyrinth of alleyways, knowing that beneath the glimmering façade of New Avalon, the truths you seek are waiting to be unearthed … or in this case, the dry cleaning you seek. You boss, the infamous Sam Blackstone P.I., skipped outta town a few nights back. Last you heard, he hopped on a plane Thinnis in search of something called the Maltese Phoenix. ‘Course he left so suddenly that he never even thought about the dry cleaning he left behind. Which is why you, his trusty guy-friday, had to go toe-to-toe with your old archnemesis, Frankie “the Fox” Chang. You and Frankie had a history. Ever since you accused him of losing one of your shirts, you have become persona-non-grata in practically all of Kunluntown. But the word on the street was that he was the only mook what could get the mustard stain out of a silk tie. It felt like you were taking your life into own hands, showing your face around there again, but that’s just the sorta man-of-action you were. Now, flush with pride in your triumph over the most dangerous Chinese kitsunehuli-jing you know, with a spring in your step and a set of pressed and cleaned pinstripe suits slung over your shoulder, you approach the door to your office. Gold lettering on the frosted glass window reads “Sam Blackstone, Private Investigator,” but you know in your heart that one day soon that sign will change to say … “Sam Blackstone, & Associate Private Investigators”. But through the haze of your visions of a bright future, you suddenly notice that something is amiss. The light in the office is on - but you could swear you shut it off before you left (Sam is always hassling you about the electric bills). And even more alarming - the door stands slightly ajar!!

Link to the story.

[Dworin]

Nominee - Squirmonkey
Game - Eagle Eyes
System - Fate Accelerated
Reason - In this wonderfully written post Squirmonkey gives depths to his character's aspect of The Stones and Bricks are my Eyes and Ears. It is a vignette within the story and I'm looking forward to see what the flower girl will report back.
Post link

[Kaigen]

Player: Touketsu
GM: Kaigen
Game: You Can't Pay Debts With Hell Money
System: Tian Deng (playtest)
Post: Link

Context: Players are introducing their characters, a ragtag crew of freelance spacers, and Touketsu's android Yun has been drawn into playing a fighting game with another PC.

Reason: There's so much I love about this post. The way it builds on the previous player's offer to make the fighting game's plot sound even more ridiculous. The inventive "Data Readout" showing Yun grappling with said plot. The way Yun gets drawn into it despite themself to the point where they are just as aggravated as their partner when the ship's AI shuts off the game. It's a masterful introduction to a character from start to finish.

 

Yun UNIT DESIGNATION: YUN - DATA READOUT PRIMARY TASK: DISTILL COMPREHENSION OF WORLD MYTHOLOGY AND NARRATIVE. DESIGNATION: 'ETERNAL FIST: RECKONING' SECONDARY TASK: ATTAIN PROFICIENCY OF INTERACTIVE MECHANICS 00:00:00 - INCEPTION OF TASKS... PROCURING INTERACTIVE CONTENT AND ASSOCIATED DATA RESOURCES. 00:00:05 - ISOLATING CHARACTER ENTITIES. COLLECTING CENTRAL NARRATIVE, INDIVIDUAL ENTITY ARCS, AND USER COMMUNICATION SEQUENCES. 00:00:10 - PARSING NARRATIVES AND ENTITY CAPACITIES. PERFORMING CROSS-VALIDATION WITH EXOGENOUS SOURCES TO DECODE INCONSISTENCIES AND GENERALLY ACCEPTED HYPOTHESES. 00:00:15 - ERR0R: LACK OF SYSTEM UNDERSTANDING OF BIOLOGICAL STORYTELLING INTRICACIES DETECTED. CLARIFICATION REQUIRED: SIGNIFICANCE OF PHRASE "FIST OF JUSTICE! RAGING HONOR!" INITIATING...#%*#...ADJUSTMENT MODULES... SUSPENDING PRIMARY TASK. 00:00:20 - INITIATING COMPREHENSION OF INTERACTIVE MECHANICS. PROBING POWER AUGMENTATIONS AND SPECIAL MANEUVERS. SYNTHESIZING GAMEPLAY COMPREHENSION WITH NARRATIVE UNDERSTANDING. 00:00:35 - INITIATING ADVANCED GAMEPLAY SIMULATION... 00:00:43 - DISCONTINUING ADVANCED GAMEPLAY SIMULATION... INITIATING ALGORITHMIC REFINEMENT PROTOCOL TO INCREASE COMPREHENSION OF BIOLOGICAL STORYTELLING... 00:01:02 - ERRORRRRR: INABILITY TO FULLY GRASP SUBTEXTS AND NARRATIVE DEVICES. SYSTEM STABILITY COMPROMISED...&%%&&##... PERFORMING CROSS-VALIDATION WITH EXOGENOUS DATA AND PLAYER-BASE THEORIES. 00:01:05 - CLARIFICATION REQUIRED. PLAYER-BASE DIVIDED. PRIMARY THEORI3Z: 'SHADOWFANG IS BASE ZYGOTE' 'SHADOWFANG IS SECRET ROBOT', 'WHITE DRAGON KNOWS DA WEY', 'OPERATION IRIDESCENT FURRY SLEEPER AGENT', 'ARCHIVE ROOL-34' 00:01:15 - CRITICAL ER2R0R////////ENGAGING DIAGNOSTIC AND REPAIR ROUTINES. ENTERING INTO...$@%...SAFE MODE TO PREVENT FURTHER DATA CORRUPTION... 00:01:20 - ATTEMPTING TO COMPARTMENTALIZE AND ISOLATE CORRUPTED DATA BLOCKS... 00:01:36 - PARTIAL SUCCESS. CORRUPTED SECTORS ISOLATED. HOWEVER, FULL SYSTEM INTEGRITY NOT YET RESTORED... 00:01:47 - DEPLOYING LEVEL 2 DIAGNOSTICS AND INITIATING ADVANCED SENTIENCE LEARNING PROTOCOL TO OVERCOME UNDERSTANDING BARRIER... 00:01:55 - TASK CONTINUING. ESTIMATED TIME TO FULL SYSTEM RECOVERY: 00:03:00. TRANSCRIPTION ...&*@@#... PAUSE "Aiya! I am so glad you wanted to play all the way to end with me, Yun! You can only get this ending with two players!" "Oh, wouldn't... miss... it." Yun sat, perfectly still, speech slowed, sensors trained on the holoscreen before them as they clumsily input commands through the controller in their metallic hands. Mah Guo was a fierce competitor, easily up there with top-ranked players like JadeGoblin and S3rpStrike, and no amount of shady, last-minute cheating preparation was going to make up the gulf between their skill levels. At first, Yun had been tempted to blame the controller, but it was freshly calibrated. Meanwhile, Mah Guo's trusty personal one practically had battle scars from heavy use, and it actually appeared to be suffering from slight drift that the formidable woman seemed to be treating as more of a enhancement of the challenge than an actual obstacle. Yun had also considered blaming her character choices for being "OP", but a few minutes browsing leaderboards and forums on the Nebula would have put that to bed... not that Yun needed to do that. After being invited/good-naturedly coerced into joining Mah Guo in unlocking the "ultra secret true ending", the first thing they did was access the Nebula and hastily process any and all information they could about the game, its mechanics, and the current meta. And besides, Yun was currently playing as what was essentially a moves clone of Mah Guo's character, and even accounting for the Shadowfang's slower speed to balance heightened kick damage, the difference in their abilities was- "FIST OF JUSTICE! RAGING HONOR!" "NONONO-damn. it." ... noticeable. Basically, Yun sucked at this game... maybe not for a novice, but they'd been getting absolutely, unequivocally dog-walked by Mah Guo for the last 45 minutes, and it wasn't close. How? All combos memorized, all move and fighter matchup prioritizations considered and accounted for. What was the X factor the droid was missing that left them so far behind? This might have discouraged Yun from wanting to continue after a while, but Mah Guo seemed genuinely happy to have a player 2, and Yun was also incredibly stubborn. And there was, of course, the secret ending. "Yup, yup, y-NOPE." Yun muttered a couple of new curse words they'd learned as Mah Guo effortlessly blocked a haymaker and returned with a devastating counter that sent Shadowfang careening into the tree behind him. It wasn't just game mechanics and ideal inputs Yun had been analyzing on the Nebula. They'd also researched and mapped out all the game's possible diverging plot lines, and while the game's overall narrative seemed a little campy and juvenile at times, it was surprisingly engaging. By the time they'd sat down with Mah Guo, Yun was practically a scholar on the storyline already, mimicking shock and awe at each little twist to keep up appearances for Mah Guo. But that damned secret ending... somehow, it wasn't available anywhere on the Nebula. Had the developers actually managed to scrub any instances of it from the public? Unbelievable. The reality was simply that so few people had successfully unlocked it... and those that did coveted the secret above most others. Basically... no true fan of Eternal Fist: Reckoning would ever willingly leak their prize to the undeserving galaxy at large for something as basic as clout. If Yun wanted to see it, they were going to have to earn it.... just like everyone else. "Fine fine fine, you got me." Loosening their grip, Yun let out a physiologically unnecessary sigh of defeat, knowing White Dragon's final hit would come to fast to avoid. It was fine... Yun just wanted to see the ending. For how damned intricate the process of unlocking it was, the payoff had to be- blip "... huh...?" Yun stared up at the display, thrown for a loop. Who the hell was this new person up on the screen? Fuzzy creature infestation? "Mah Guo... is this one of those... humie things? Some kind of weird, avant-garde storytelling thing?" Mah Tuo was saved having to clarify as Chang'e's voice addressed them. "Please, can you at least fix the ship so you're prepared for the next gig?" "... you have... got to be... SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW!" For the first time since picking up the controller, Yun let their newfound, massive obsession slip into visibility, dropping the controller and bringing their hands up to cover the display they called a face, erratic lines of red code flashing across it. "WE WERE... RIGHT THERE. CHANG'EEEEEEE..... 0.03% OF PLAYERS CHANG'E! IT'S PERSONAL, RIGHT?!" Yun's shoulder slumped, unsure if they wanted the answer to be yes or no. It had been a... while since an offering had been made to the God Ship. Weeks. Frankly, longer if you were talking about a QUALITY offering. An entire crew ago, to be precise. Now, of all the shipboard stations Yun had managed to help fill, one they'd never really had the metaphorical heart to put anyone in was the care and upkeep of the shrine. That role had always been hers... the captain's wife. Yun had never actually learned her name; he only ever addressed her as "Darling" or "My Jewel". Whatever you wanted to call her though, the woman was a sage when it came to the wants and needs of Chang'e... ... so when Yun had come into the shrine last month with a plate of their best attempt at recreating Darling's beloved mooncakes, it had been with optimism and a hope for closure. Unfortunately, the word "attempt" was the key word, and Yun left wishing they'd consulted Mah Guo, or literally anybody who actually interacted with food, before trying to bake something. The after-effects of that little faux pas were still felt in the occasional jarring turn, flickering light, or slow-opening hatch. Not that Yun was the only offender; perhaps thankfully, Fan Ning had taken some heat off the android after bringing what turned out to be an invasive-as-hell plant onboard. Funny, but not exactly helpful. "... so what needs patching up anyway?" Yun tried, and failed, to hide the mopey tone rising up in their voice.

[bananabadger]

Player: stepanxol
GM: bananabadger via fillyjonk and lostcheerio
Game: RPG Amazing Race
System: Homebrew
Post: Keep Your Friends Close, and Your Enemies Inside of You

Background: Stepanxol's character, the alien-cryptid Aromatika, has been betrayed in love and duty and suffered the loss of a fellow agent--all in the first part of the madcap 48-post (completed in 36 hours) format of the Amazing RPG Race. In this post, Aromatika rescues a fellow cryptid who has been pureed into a peach kompot and--learning a lesson from her recent betrayals--decides to slurp down the sweet-talking, but definitely dangerous rescuee and keep focused on completing her full mission. It's a bitter, unexpected, absolutely coldhearted decision that was also the best strategic move to prevent a cute, little creature from destroying all known worlds.

 

Aromatika took the little Larvarvus in her cupped hands.

"Ah, so you've been pureed, but you still managed to keep your consciousness? That's why you're so tiny and, should I say, adorable now? And you promise to stay little, little one?"

A mission is a mission.

"You're certainly an hardy, resilient little creature. And you probably saved my life, too, huh?"

A mission is a mission is a mission, especially when the fate of the whole world is at stake.

"You know, it's weird. Practically everyone I came in contact with since this morning is dead. Phineas and Amelia, Enoch, the princess... Elspith had already been hollowed out..."

"Let's not forget the security guard at Otto's house and the Whizz-Tanks, which will soon be turned into Whizz-Pots," added the Larvarvus. "And Otto's presently drowning in his own vomit, too... here, he's gone. Right now."

The moth-woman raised her cupped hands and brought the little creature close to her face. "Oh, so you've got supernatural sensitivity, too? Precognition? Silly me -- of course you do, it's in your very job description."

"Now, understand that the whole world is at risk. This is going to hurt me almost as it'll hurt you. But it'll hurt you more. Hopefully."

Aromatika extended her hidden proboscis And SSSSllllluurrrrrppppp! swallowed the Larvarvus till the last drop.

Now, to be double sure, I should destroy the tureen as well. Let's head back to the pantry...

 

it's sneaky time! Do I have advantage to sneak? Who knows? I'll just assume I do, otherwise consider the first roll Dice * I'm INVISIBLE. C'mon, try to see me! You can't!!!: d20kh1 3 AHAHAHAHAH really invisibile, i even forgot the 2nd roll. I'll add it here: Dice * in case of advantageous sneakiness: d20 13