Chaosmancer
Legend
The best character I ever DMed for was in 4e, a tiefling fiend warlock.
Her patron was one of the Lords of Dust, demons bound below Eberron, but the other characters could never quite get a good handle on her: was she a dupe? A person making the best of a bad situation? A person driven by desperation? Or a pragmatic opportunist?
The attempts of the other players to sound out her intentions were foiled by her sky-high Bluff check. As DM, I trusted the player to create an interesting and complex character. So, the other characters kept the warlock somewhat at arm’s length, because they couldn’t pigeonhole her, though she got along well with the druid.
The climax of the campaign had the characters defeat an existential threat to Eberron, but at a great cost: the were lost in Xoriat, the plane of madness.
The creatures in Xoriat were brutal, but if killed, residuum could be harvested to either contact Eberron, or if enough creatures were killed, to free themselves. But I told them, once they have committed to a plan to escape, each character had to roll a die. One a 1, their character irrevocably died before being rescued. On a 2, their character survived but was sufficiently maimed that they would have to give up adventuring forever.
Here’s the kicker: the size of the die was inversely proportional to how long it would take the plan to reach fruition. If they waited to harvest enough residuum to free themselves, they would roll a 1d4.
The warlock reached out to her patron. Over the campaign, the warlock had accrued favors to her patron that she would have to pay off, but the patron also saw her as a powerful investment, so he wasn’t about to cut her loose. The patron suspected that the others would not want to work for him, so he offered the warlock a deal. For freeing the warlock, the warlock would accrue a favor to him. For freeing the others, each of them would accrue a favor to the warlock.
The warlock pitched the hell out of this proposal (no pun intended!) to the other characters. The other characters did not trust the warlock enough to accept, though the druid was wavering. The warlock took the deal for herself alone, lamenting her friends.
Time passes differently on Coriat than on Eberron. The swordmage (who had been trapped in Xoriat for 30 years in his backstory) cracked, and one day, simply walked off into nothingness.
The barbarian, the elf and the druid were saved by the barbarian’s great-nephew (the barbarian’s clan had also been contacted). The barbarian got to see his clan triumphant and his great-nephew a hero following in his great-uncle’s footsteps before dying at the literal last moment before crossing over.
The elf survived but suffered a wound so great that he was unable to ever adventure again. He suffered the tragedy of returning to a world in which he did not fit, where his greatest enemies had become his people’s greatest allies.
The druid returned safe and sound but retired from adventuring anyway. The party had been trapped in Xoriat by an enemy seeking to strike at him personally, and he took the deaths of his friends hard. He had a purpose however, nurturing the growth of the founder of his order.
As for the warlock? How do you react when the people whom you trust, whom you have travelled with, literally tell you to your face that they would rather risk madness and destruction than put themselves in your hands? She had left early, arriving mere months after her departure to Xoriat rather than years. In the epilogue, she had followed in her mentor’s footsteps, becoming a crimelord, though one with a bit of a soft spot for orphans.
Glorious. I love things like this. Excellent, and Bravo