January POTM

[Admin Dirk]

It's a new year (2020), and a new chance to nominate the best of the best, the top posts of your games.

We can't do it without you, so get out there, and nominate the best prose of the month. It's easy, it's free, and even Squeak can do it.


(technically, he can't, because he's a judge, but if he could, he could do it.)

[Paul7926]

Nomination I'd like to nominate ChiefDisbelief for this post in a game I'm playing in. The party has been through a lot and not really had time to catch their breath between encounters and I think this post is not only well written but captures the exhaustion of the part member (he is now on 1hp) and their feelings at they are asked for more but cannot give it.   Originally Posted by ChiefDisbelief

[Roekahs]

Player Nominated: wodine
Game: An Untimely Encounter
System: Shadowrun
DM: Silk

Link

Reason: Sometimes a post doesn't need anyone else mucking up the beauty of what is written. This is one of those times. The minimal context required is: Xoch is the "face" of the party; we are trying to eliminate the opposition through non-lethal means and Bill is the last one standing; Xoch did some street drugs and ran into the combat zone believing he was a dragon. This is what follows...

 

Originally Posted by wodine

[phinar]

Player Nominated: DaysUntold
Game: Decent into Avernus - Demon Team
DM: DaysUntold

Link

Reason: Pitch-perfect and incisive, Days' DM post takes us through the filthy streets of Baldur's Gate and delivers us to one of its inestimable taverns. This piece of work is an exquisite study in pacing, carrying the narrative forward in broad strokes while keeping player agency strong. The descriptive prose exhibits the highest levels of craftmanship: strong verbs, a smattering of modifiers, and sturdy sentence construction that carries the reader along.

In addition to feeding us a handful of clear of opportunities for interaction with the city — even before we took liberties of our own! — Days drops us into a busy tavern with countless more opportunities for interaction. This post has more hooks than a tackle box!

I regret that exposing some of the secret text might impact play in flight. You will have to trust me that Days has taken this to superlatives as well, dropping hints and offering game-world insights where appropriate. It's a little extra seasoning to propel roleplay forward, and it has worked.

 

Wading through the filth Captain Zodge looked at Erna with bemusement as she began to rattled off conversation to the people around her. With a raised eyebrow, he looked to the others and shook his head as if unsure of what to do with the lot of them. It was when Sarillar spoke that he finally responded with a curt nod. "If it is pain that you wish, you've come to the right place," he said with a low chuckle. "Normally, I'd agree," he said to Unferth, "however, this isn't your normal job, in case the bounty didn't clue you in. If you find yourself in need of anything, find me. As far as payment - you'll be paid in full once the city has been free of cult-related killings for a ten day, and no sooner. I'm sure Unferth can get you there." He gave one last look at Erna who seemed to have taken a break, only to begin rattling away again. He shook his head and began walking back towards the gate. Dark Piano - Hate The narrow streets of Baldur’s Gate, normally cluttered at daylight, gave way to night as people scrambled for the perceived safety that four walls would often give. Stalls made by peddlers were being boxed up and carted away, orphaned children scurried into hovels and holes too small for many to bother them but not small enough to rid them of unwanted rodent guests, and the homeless gathered together whatever materials they could in an attempt to find shelter. Now and then the cry of a child, or even an adult, could be heard from one direction or another. Puddles spotted the cobblestone streets as a dingy sky loomed overhead, its muted color seemingly reflecting the dour mood of the city below. As the group passed a merchant loading his wares onto a small hand-pushed wagon, he turned and called out to them, not foolish enough to turn away a potential sale even with twilight settling in. "Magical potions!" the vagrant called out, his once fine clothes now soiled and torn. "Charms, potions, and restorative items! Assure your own salvation. There’s no need for what happened to the poor citizens of the Holy City to happen to you! Let not your children suffer!" With night began to fall and the streets emptying out, a group as large and well-equipped as theirs were a particularly alluring target. The man ran forward, forcing himself into their field of view. Even as they tried to walk around, he continued to call out to them. "You there! Surely you have needs that can be met. A ring of teleportation, perhaps!" he exclaimed, his movements as frantic as his words as he dug around in a pocket of his cloak, eventually pulling forth a silver ring. As the group continued moving, he pushed along side of them, nearly tripping over a discarded wagon wheel. "I came here from Elturel, my shop and home gone. Yet, I am here still because of powerful magic items such as this. For only five gold it is yours! Need a locket of Devil’s Charm? How about a potion of nightvision?! I have all these and more!" He waited, not wanting to stray too far from his cart, but eager to speak to anyone willing to pay him any mind. As the walk continued, grey, darkening alleys branched from the street out as legs from a disgusting creature, more than one featuring an unseemly situation unfolding. In one, two men in full-plate with the Flaming Fist insignia on the front had cornered some fool who'd gotten himself in to trouble. The man was visibly shaken and emptied his pockets in such a hurry that two copper coins fell and rolled across the cobblestones. One of the Fists' head snapped towards the group as they walked by, silently staring them down as if challenging them to intervene while his companion threatened the frightened man with a spear. Luckily, it was only a few doors down that they'd find the Elfsong Tavern.

The Elfsong Tavern Eventually, they rounded on the Elfsong Tavern. A large female half-ogre sat outside guarding the brightly-lit entrance and blocking some of the golden hue from spilling it across the ground. She looked the group over for a long moment before nodding them in. Within, uproarious laughter that came and went from the many patrons in the brightly lit tavern. Upon the left-hand side, a large suit of armor holding a longsword stood against the wall, its head occasionally moving despite the fact that it was obviously empty. Before them, they found a diverse group that had two things in common. Every patron in the room had a weapon and it was evident that each of them knew how to use them. Three padded chairs sat angled toward a fireplace on the east wall, underneath the creaky wooden staircase that led to the second floor. A couple of what looked to be typical Baldur’s Gate thugs shared stories with a Fist soldier, recounting tales of the last few weeks which had been particularly lucrative given the exploding population of the city and the extra security needed by merchants and the Fists alike. The bald soldier with a thick beard looked up, a wide smile breaking across his face as he recognized the half-orc among the group, and held up a finger to indicate that he would be right over. A man and a woman seated by the doorway spoke in hushed tones while another woman sat alone against the far wall, taking a particular interest in the masked man before returning to her drink. Directly before the adventurers a table erupted in laughter as one man threw down his fist, in disgust. One of his companions started pulling a small pile of coins towards her, a wide smile on her face. Off to the left, several private rooms sit unoccupied. A waiter came and delivered drinks to the table before rushing off to the bar once more, behind which a man stood. As the group crossed the room, he looked up and shot a friendly smile. Scene Music Song of Elturel Before they could get very far, a disembodied voice began singing and the entire room grew silent almost in unison. On the stairs, the ghostly image of a young elven woman floated downward, her voice ethereal and full of grief. Slowly, she made her rounds about the room, sharing her woeful tale. As she did, many of the patrons in the room become unexpectedly restless and attentive. One of the men near the fire shifted in his seat and began whispering to the man beside him, earning nothing more than a shrug, a tiny bob of the shoulders, in return. A woman at the table near the entrance began quietly sobbing into her sleeve. When the man with her tried to comfort her with a palm on her shoulder she pulled away, crumpling into herself. As the song fades, the ghost lingers, yet few pay her much mind. Conversation starts up once more and Alan, the barkeep, shakes his head as if ridding himself of a daze. "Right, then," he said in an attempt to sound jovial, "what can I be getting you? I imagine there’s an interesting story behind how you got all tangled up together." As he spoke, he poured six glasses of elverquisst wine. "Here's a glass of wine, on the house, in exchange for leaving the bar as in tact when you leave as when you find it" he said winking as he handed over a glass to Bethrynna. "Erna!" the Fist soldier called from near the fireplace. He stood and nodded to his company, then made his way to the bar to speak with his good friend. "Finally got some sense in you? At least enough to change your mind?" Behind him, another tavern boy brought out a tray of hard cheese and even harder bread to set on a nearby table. A delicious myriad of smells wafted from the swinging kitchen door with promises of cheese-and-potato soup and fresh crab cakes. Punctuating it all was the almost sickly sweet aroma of load cake drenched in syrup.

OOC   For ease and to get a better image in mind, there is a map of the tavern below. If anyone wants to interact with the vagrant, let me know. We can do it on the side and you can add it to the beginning of your post. Phinar, feel free to NPC Henrick, just wanted to give you the opening

 

[Retry]

Player Nominated: gavins38
Game: Dragon of IceSpire - Storm Team
DM: Retry

Link

Reason: Sometimes it not always what is said aloud that shows of the personality or quirks of a player. While gavins is still fairly new to the site they have done really well bringing out the latent personality of the gnome known as Otto, an entertainer with abysmal self-esteem, in an often humorous way.

 

Originally Posted by gavins38