DDC – Burning Hearts

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A little late to the pass, but as we haven’t had a session this week, I’ve finally got round to writing up last week’s game. It was the climactic battle against the demon Derroghast, carried on from the previous week. Darkness had engulfed a portion of the battlefield, many of the adventurers were near death, and the forces of evil looked set for victory.

Hope had, at least, found their adoptive parents – who were a little surprised to see them and asked if they had a plan. Hope’s plan for the moment revolved around throwing magic stones to try and disrupt Derroghast’s war priests’ spells while Arwan and Valenia did their best not to get pinned down. Arwan and Valenia managed to save their colleagues’ lives several times with timely casting of healing spells but the DDC was on the ropes. In frustration, when being taunted by Derroghast, Hope at last called out to Gerlon – their celestial patron, who had promised to come when called for this battle.

In a burst of radiance, the solar emerged through the portal from the original church, and teleported to Hope. With a simple laying of a hand, the dominating magics on Hope were dispelled, freeing them to rejoin the fight properly. The tide was close to turning.

Gerlon and Derroghast became locked in combat, using spare actions to aid or attack others on the battlefield. Seething malice met pure light, while the DDC regained their footing. In quick order the succubi, war priests, and the blackguard warrior of the twisted faith were overcome. This in turn freed up each of the group to join in the final battle.

It was fitting that Hope was able to land the killing blow to their infernal parent – sparking the collapse of the miniature realm within which they were fighting. A hurried retreat, and rescue of the prisoners saw everyone returned to the original chapel – outside of which could be heard a riot. Gerlon strode through the doors to the courtyard beyond and his presence stilled the fighting, allowing the DDC to leave and return to the cloisters. Hope’s appearance began to change again as the infernal portal collapsed – their horns receding backward and smoothing to almost form a loop behind their skull rather than stabbing into the air – their skin also lightened a little, suggesting a diminishing of their infernal origins and a closer link to the celestials of the Sovereign Host.

And that’s where we left things

Sunny Weekend

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I made a conscious decision this weekend to get as much sunlight and fresh air as possible. It’s part of the conscious self-care approach I’m doing, and seeing as good weather has surprised us all it felt rude not to take advantage.

Yesterday therefore I took the cub with me to town for a wander about. As much as he puts on a rebellious and unaffected set of airs, he apparently looks forward to going out with me. I suspect the availability of Costa breakfasts, fast food and the occasional shopping treat has something to do with it. Whatever the reason, he was up and out of bed in record time when I poked my head round the door. Traffic was grim, but I managed a rare embarrassed smile and eye roll when I announced that the traffic jam was our cue for bad in-car dad dancing.

He did not join in.

Once we were there though we had a good saunter around. He did well out of it, some american import candies from a traditional sweets store, a second hand game from CEX, and we got ice cream cones and sat and people watched a while. I also dropped in to the comicbook store and managed to get an order in for the second Starman compendium so that made my day. So much so that I even avoided going into any bookstores as a result.

The cub was rather perturbed that I would rather drop money on a big book than a computer game. He’s funny like that.

And then today, as we haven’t had a D&D game, I grabbed Lady M and kidnapped her away to a local walled garden. I’ve had a lovely time sat on a lightly shaded bench, sketching and reading “The Haunting of Borley Rectory” – which has been a fascinating story of the ghost stories.

It examines the social and historical contexts of the people and places involved and the political shenanigans of the various societies involved in the promotion and debunking of spiritualism and psychics. I’m enjoying it immensely. (By the way, the link is not affiliated, I’m not earning anything, I just think it’s a really good book)

Map – Einnaer’s Ruins

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I’ve whipped this up this evening as we haven’t been streaming – really just to play with some new assets I’d downloaded. Its some sort of hamlet, or a collection of iron age style houses anyway, arrayed on the banks of a river as it opens up into a shallow lake that has some sort of ruined structure at the bottom. That’s about as far as thinking about it or any scenarios. I suppose you could go some kind of Grendel route with an entity disturbed by sounds of celebration or something?

Anyway, it’s here if you want to grab a copy – and the Dungeon Alchemist files can be found at https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3243852894

Drugs but No Rock and Roll

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One of the drugs I need to take to manage my diabetes (ie stay alive) is dulaglutide. Its a drug that stimulates my pancreas to produce insulin. It is also an appetite suppressant. Some of you may know where this is going.

Supplies were already restricted due to Brexit-related shenanigans around licensing and import red tape, but then off-book prescription was approved for helping people lose weight.

So for the last two weeks I have been unable to get a repeat prescription, and my pharmacy has no idea when they will next get some delivered.

I have an emergency consult with my GP pharmacist tomorrow to see what alternatives might work with the cocktail of drugs I’m already taking. My stress levels are through the roof.

I also have a scheduled appointment tomorrow to talk about my mental health.

I’m doing a lot of breathing exercises at the moment

Map – Brewery Street

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I’ve made another street intersection map that can be dropped in for random encounters or as the location for a heist. There’s a main thoughfare crossed by a smaller street, and there are also alleys leading to interesting places and back doors. Most of the right hand side of the area is dominated by a large pub, and a brewery with attached owner’s rooms. The relationship between the pub and brewery is up to you.

In the other block there’s a baker, a butcher, some homes, and a library – all of which could be interesting locations for encounters or backgrounds for conversations. The map, including the border is 33×32 – and I’ve shared the Dungeon Alchemist file on Steam as usual – it can be found at https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3241143164

Lore Drop – The Fall of The Hearthsflame

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Laren was among the first to feel it. He’d just finished washing up after his evening meal and was standing in his garden. Sunset was always his favourite time of day – winding down after a busy one always felt like a reward. The sound of carpenters repairing the roof had faded some time ago as they finished up. He would have offered them room and board, but still feared that he might not be here come the morning.

He also feared what his still being among living come the dawn might also mean. The voice in the dark had been so insistent that his return to life was reliant on the the tiefling surrendering to it. Two days had passed since then.

His younger days, serving in the army, had made death no stranger to him. He had fought in the Last War for his country. He had served alongside the glorious undead raised to fight again against the elves. He had signed a will leaving his remains when the time came to civic service.

His brief moments in the dark had shaken him to the core. His faith taught that this life was all that there was. It taught that the divine lay in everyone to manifest through actions and example. He had been taught that death would be the rest at the end as his spirit returned to the void. Being caught in the dark and sent back had tested that faith. He remembered Derroghast’s hunger, vividly.

A twinge in his chest drew him from his reverie. Is this it? The twinge came again, stronger, and he sank to his knees as searing fire seemed to ignite in his veins. Somewhere, someone was screaming.

He wasn’t to know it, but the same scene was playing out across the continent of Khorvaire. Priests of the Hearthsflame cult found their prayers suddenly unanswered. Undead raised by Derroghast’s followers crumbled to dust. Warlocks had the connection of their pacts ripped out of them. As Derroghast fell, and her realm collapsed, so too did the web of shadows and deceit she had spun.

Laren’s vision blurred and darkened as the breath caught in his chest, tighter and tighter. A small part of him found time to rejoice – that Hope had resisted – even as his life was forfeit. He would hold that victory with him as he fell into the night.

The dawn arrived, and dew covered him. Old Dahlia continued to shuffle around the garden, sweeping and tidying. She didn’t feel the morning cold and damp, that ability had faded decades ago, before even the birth of Hope and the arrival of the refugees. Old Dahlia wanted for nothing, and was curious about less. She had skirted around the still form a couple of times in the night, leaving it undisturbed as her orders had made no mention of it.

The morning dew and lightening sky, by contrast, did bother Laren. He wasn’t expecting to ever be bothered by anything again, but here he was. Muscles protesting, and head pounding, he stirred. He rolled onto his back. He opened his eyes and saw clouds. The fire behind his eyes and in his veins was gone. There was no sense of Derroghast. No whisper in his ear, no grip on his heart.

The pact was broken. He was free. He began to dare to believe in Hope

Map – Derroghast’s Lair

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I didn’t publish this previously so that it could be a surprise for my players when I suddenly shifted the whole map for its new phase. The map below is the current battlefield on which the DDC is fighting, and barely staying on their feet. It represents a pocket realm with a typically hellish theme of flames and blood and ruins. As befits a mother of succubi, it is also well strewn with cushions among the wreckage.

Around the ruined temple complex lies a graveyard strewn with bones, and large pools of warm blood lined with open arches are a significant feature. Hundreds of candles light the area, breaking up the gloom.

As of the end of the last session, most of the group were fighting near the middle of the map, while Hope had been sent to the middle room at the bottom of the temple.

I’ve shared the original 32×42 map on Steam at https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3221585294 – feel free to grab a copy!

Lore Drop – Goat Delivery

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“Where d’you want this?” The goblin goatherder looked up at the speaker and nearly squeaked in surprise. Kher was blocking out the moonlight, looming and holding an indignant goat in the air. The goat had obviously given up on protesting, and merely favoured Obtress with a jaundiced glare.

“Oh! I didn’t hear you!” Obtress dropped the shepherd’s crook, his fingers shaking. There were stories in his tribe of the brutality of Kher and his brothers in times past. Laments of clans crushed, their bones stacked in piles as warnings to avoid the peaks claimed by their mother. The stories didn’t really stack up against the almost docile expression on Kher’s face, or the casual slump of his shoulders. He picked up his crook and pointed at the field next to him. “In – in there please?” He stepped out the way as the half ogre, half hag wall of muscle eased past him on the path and gently put the goat on the other side of the dry stone wall.

“Nice goats. They don’t wear clothes, do they? Any good at songs?”

“What? No! Wait, what?” then again “No! And I’m not a singer either! Why?” The only response Obtress got was a chuckle and a clumsy wink. Then Kher wheeled round and ambled back down the slope towards the long house and the sounds of merriment still coming from it. Obtress watched him go, and then looked at the goat. It was trying to pretend that it had wanted to be there all along and that the whole embarrassing incident hadn’t happened. He went over anyway to check it over for any injuries. There weren’t any, just a line of mucus that suggested the half ogre had wiped his nose with the goat on the way up.

Obtress wasn’t sure which version of Kher was more worrying to him. At least the one in the stories was predictable. You knew where you were with mindless rampaging brutes – preferably at a long distance and behind some rocks for cover.

Queer Joy Moments

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Every now and then I get someone look askance when I talk about finding the moments of joy that come with being part of the LGBTQ+ community. Do I mean parades and weddings? Well, they can be fun, depending on your tolerances for crowds and noise but I think for me it’s a more personal experience. 

I’ve written about it before – the quiet joy of seeing a gay couple having a great night out, or seeing yourself represented in media in a positive way. It can be the unexpected acceptance by someone you feared would not be accepting – or hearing people be happy in their own experiences or overcoming difficulties. It can be affirmation, it can be breakthroughs, or it can be allyship that isn’t performative. It’s often quite deep and personal depending on your own journey.

Along the way in my unconventional relationships, I’ve taken on an unexpected role as an adoptive parent in recent years. My boyfriend, boy s, has a son who is a typical teenager. He loves his games console, chatting online with his friends, and threatening to burst into flame if he encounters daylight. He actively dislikes school and experiences great anxieties which has led to a few constructive conversations with his school and inclusion officers along the way. 

boy s lives with Lady M and me while he tries to sort out new housing – and so we were expecting to have to do a lot of explaining. Three adults in a relationship and a teenager?

My fears, stoked by having grown up through the 80s, were that we would have to be on the defensive – and to find acceptance sounds such a small thing, but has been such a source of joy. The only question we’ve had has been to ask how the teenager feels about having three parents bossing him around and making him go to school.

In answer to that, we’ve each settled into different main roles – boy s of course dotes on the boy and teases him mercilessly. Lady M is the deep conversations and mothering person, and I’m the cruel and heartless person who challenges him, makes him do his homework, and get up in the morning. The adage of it taking a village to raise a child has definitely found its focus in our little queer household.

The joy of having schools and council contacts not even bat an eyelid would be enough – let alone the welcoming and supportive interactions we’ve actually had. I take joy in the nuances of how our household spins along.

DDC – Knocking on Hell’s Door

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After a couple of weeks’ hiatus due to illness, we returned with an episode of battle. The group had managed to sneak past a large number of cultists in the temple grounds and then broke through windows to confront the priests, cambions, and succubus within. Thorin had led the charge and landed a solid blow on the succubus who was right in front of him, but then he heard Kerne telling him to fall back.

Now, anyone who has been following the adventures of the DDC knows that Kerne has a tendency to melt large elements of the battlefield given half a chance, so Thorin ducked behind the altar as Kerne unleashed a sunburst spell. It flashed brilliant sunlight that burned everyone in range, and blinded one of the priests and one of the cambions. Unfortunately it was also very visible through the temple’s windows and alerted the cultists outside that something was going on.

The succubus slipped away into the ethereal plane, and one of the priests cast a banishment spell on Hope to trap them. The fight saw Arwan commanded to flee and being compelled to do so, a guardian spirit set to attack any of the DDC who climbed in through the window, webbing capturing some of the cultists rushing in to assist, and then a prismatic spray from Kerne follow up on the mass destruction front.

The damage from that did at least disrupt the priest’s concentration on the banishment spell on Hope, returning them to the battlefield. Unfortunately the rest of the priests and a blackguard who had arrived as reinforcements were able to blind and then beat Thorin to the ground. This is when the succubus returned with reinforcements

The demon and two more sisters appeared next to Kerne, Valenia, and Coal, and successfully charmed them. Worse, Derroghast herself appeared next to Hope and enthralled them with a dominate spell.

The world shifted, and suddenly they weren’t in the temple any more. Instead they were in a pillared and cushion-strewn set of ruins surrounded by candles, canals full of blood, and the sound of a mighty heartbeat. The DDC were in the depths of Derroghast’s lair.

Unable to attack the succubi that had charmed them, the DDC tried trading off opponents, but were each subjected to draining kisses that leached their life forces. Hope was given a chance to surrender, but spat in Derroghast’s face – refusing to bow down. In response, the demon queen told Hope to go to their room and stay there. She pointed at a side chamber. Gripped by the dominate spell Hope was forced to walk in there. Through a stone trellis to one side, they saw the priests who had raised them, trapped in a room without exits.

Arwan and Valenia were still largely unharmed so far. They saw Coal and Kerne fall – and Arwan bought more time with a mass healing spell – which was reinforced by Hope. They had realised that although they couldn’t leave the room, there was nothing stopping them from doing what they could to assist from there.

The revived Thorin entered a berserker rage. Kerne frantically threw up protective magics – and as magical darkness spread across her, Valenia blindly invoked a Misty Step and ended up landing in one of the blood canals.

And that’s where we paused the session. The DDC are in a fight for their lives and souls, and everything is balanced on a knife edge.