CleverNickName
Limit Break Dancing (He/They)
Last Friday night I put a Deck of Many Things into my game world. Just, ya know, dropped it on a table and left it there, just to see what would happen. Shenanigans ensued.
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The party consists of five, 10th and 11th level characters: a human gunslinger, a human assassin, a firbolg druid, a goliath monk, and a changeling artificer. They were traveling by ship to a distant, uncharted island, when they ran across a gundalow (a sailed barge) out in the middle of the sea. There was a two-story wooden tavern built upon that barge, and it was bedecked with lanterns and bunting and a large banner that read "Welcome to the Harborlight Inn." So obviously, the party of adventurers had to stop in for a pint. Well. The Harborlight Inn is actually a Ship of the Fey. It floats on the boundary between the Material Plane and the Feywild, and only appears for a few hours every few years. Legends tell of strange and beautiful people, rare and wonderful goods--and people getting trapped in the Feywild if they stay too long.
Anyway. So the party hails the vessel, docks their ship, and joins the party. There's exotic food, there's delicious coffee, there's dancing, there's a hookah-smoking contest. And sitting upon a satyr merchant's table, nestled among some curios and bottles, was an unassuming deck of Tarot cards. Just sitting there, out in the open, unlabeled. Just waiting for someone to come along and pick it up.
That someone was the firbolg druid. He sat down to browse the different bottles, hoping for an interesting potion or two, and just casually picked up the deck. The satyr smiled, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth. "Fate beckons you," they said. "You will answer her call."
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"How many cards did you pick up?" I asked.
"Aw crap," the player said, realizing what he had done. "Well I didn't draw the WHOLE deck, geez."
I decided to give him a way out. I asked, "So how many cards did you grab?" Sometimes I'm too nice for my own good.
"I dunno man, I guess it was random...hold on." He rolled a d6, and the result was FIVE. "I guess I drew five cards. Damn." The whole table gasped in awe. "So here goes," he said, and started rolling.
The first card was The Gem, and he was suddenly very wealthy. "This ain't so bad," he said, prematurely.
The second card he drew was The Idiot, which reduced his Intelligence from 14 to 10. "I guess I won't be multiclassing with wizard after all," he said, thinking back to his last level-up when he was mulling over his options.
The third card was The Fates, and the player breathed a sigh of relief. He could relax a bit, knowing he could undo a bad card draw...and he almost used it on the spot to undo his Intelligence drain, but decided to hold onto it for the next two draws.
He didn't hold it for long. The fourth card he drew was The Talons, which would have disintegrated every magic item on his character sheet. "Nope," he said emphatically, and immediately cashed in the Fates card.
And the final card was The Comet. He is now anxiously waiting the next encounter, because he knows that he has to win it single-handedly in order to gain a level. "I don't want you to pull any punches," the player told me after the gaming session. "Don't adjust the encounter to make it a fair fight." I assured him that I wouldn't. (I never do. I have one random encounter table for this part of the world, and it contains monsters from CR 1/2 all the way up to CR 20. I trust my players to know when they are outmatched, and they trust me to give them opportunities to flee/surrender if they're on the ropes.) Then he told the rest of the players, "You guys can jump in if I drop to zero, but until then, let me play the hand I was dealt, literally."
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So now everyone is waiting for Friday night's game, to see what our firbolg druid is up against and whether or not he gains a level from it.
-----
The party consists of five, 10th and 11th level characters: a human gunslinger, a human assassin, a firbolg druid, a goliath monk, and a changeling artificer. They were traveling by ship to a distant, uncharted island, when they ran across a gundalow (a sailed barge) out in the middle of the sea. There was a two-story wooden tavern built upon that barge, and it was bedecked with lanterns and bunting and a large banner that read "Welcome to the Harborlight Inn." So obviously, the party of adventurers had to stop in for a pint. Well. The Harborlight Inn is actually a Ship of the Fey. It floats on the boundary between the Material Plane and the Feywild, and only appears for a few hours every few years. Legends tell of strange and beautiful people, rare and wonderful goods--and people getting trapped in the Feywild if they stay too long.
Anyway. So the party hails the vessel, docks their ship, and joins the party. There's exotic food, there's delicious coffee, there's dancing, there's a hookah-smoking contest. And sitting upon a satyr merchant's table, nestled among some curios and bottles, was an unassuming deck of Tarot cards. Just sitting there, out in the open, unlabeled. Just waiting for someone to come along and pick it up.
That someone was the firbolg druid. He sat down to browse the different bottles, hoping for an interesting potion or two, and just casually picked up the deck. The satyr smiled, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth. "Fate beckons you," they said. "You will answer her call."
-----
"How many cards did you pick up?" I asked.
"Aw crap," the player said, realizing what he had done. "Well I didn't draw the WHOLE deck, geez."
I decided to give him a way out. I asked, "So how many cards did you grab?" Sometimes I'm too nice for my own good.
"I dunno man, I guess it was random...hold on." He rolled a d6, and the result was FIVE. "I guess I drew five cards. Damn." The whole table gasped in awe. "So here goes," he said, and started rolling.
The first card was The Gem, and he was suddenly very wealthy. "This ain't so bad," he said, prematurely.
The second card he drew was The Idiot, which reduced his Intelligence from 14 to 10. "I guess I won't be multiclassing with wizard after all," he said, thinking back to his last level-up when he was mulling over his options.
The third card was The Fates, and the player breathed a sigh of relief. He could relax a bit, knowing he could undo a bad card draw...and he almost used it on the spot to undo his Intelligence drain, but decided to hold onto it for the next two draws.
He didn't hold it for long. The fourth card he drew was The Talons, which would have disintegrated every magic item on his character sheet. "Nope," he said emphatically, and immediately cashed in the Fates card.
And the final card was The Comet. He is now anxiously waiting the next encounter, because he knows that he has to win it single-handedly in order to gain a level. "I don't want you to pull any punches," the player told me after the gaming session. "Don't adjust the encounter to make it a fair fight." I assured him that I wouldn't. (I never do. I have one random encounter table for this part of the world, and it contains monsters from CR 1/2 all the way up to CR 20. I trust my players to know when they are outmatched, and they trust me to give them opportunities to flee/surrender if they're on the ropes.) Then he told the rest of the players, "You guys can jump in if I drop to zero, but until then, let me play the hand I was dealt, literally."
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So now everyone is waiting for Friday night's game, to see what our firbolg druid is up against and whether or not he gains a level from it.
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