But you don't feel moved to start threads to share what you've created?
D&D 5E So long and thanks for all the fish!
- Thread starter Thedip
- Start date
I do, but do not feel most of what I have created is to the point of sharing yet. As I mentioned, I had the World building threads that hold some of my work. Most of my current bits are more behind-the-scenes lore stuff that are too partial, IMO, to consider sharing. Once I make some more progress on them, they will probably be put into my threads with an update post to bump them. Honestly, I do have a bit of mental work built up that I should drop on the Race thread. Maybe some time in the next week I will set aside some time for it.
My original World building thread, before the forum loss, was great. I went into it with almost no idea of what I was doing, and got tons of help that directed my world. After the forum loss, I couldn't really revive that feeling. All of the old hands saw a kid lost in the woods, and happily helped him find his way. A new thread acting the same way would have just felt weird. Now, most of my threads feel more like I find the answer in the same instant I hist Post.
rgoodbb
Adventurer
Throg Throggsonn swaggered into the Painted Pumpkin and growled at the barkeeper. "Hey Jak, a quart of ale for me and ... a thimblefull for the little guy on the stool."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Hey, big spender!" replied the brownie barfly. "for a Gnome I'm pretty big. I even get mistaken for a Dwarf, by people who haven't seen one before" The small form of Gildan Midas said "Anyway, how are the rest of your band of merry men?"
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
"If ye can lift this wee bar of soap up from the bar ladee, I'll see your drinks free for the night." replied the pumpkin-nosed barkeep. As he uttered those words, the crowded, bustling tavern sank to a hush. All eyes fixed upon Throggsonn, and as dumb as the seven-footer was, he knew this was some sort of set-up...He at times was an unstoppable force. Had he met his match in an immovable object?
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Hey, big spender!" replied the brownie barfly. "for a Gnome I'm pretty big. I even get mistaken for a Dwarf, by people who haven't seen one before" The small form of Gildan Midas said "Anyway, how are the rest of your band of merry men?"
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
"If ye can lift this wee bar of soap up from the bar ladee, I'll see your drinks free for the night." replied the pumpkin-nosed barkeep. As he uttered those words, the crowded, bustling tavern sank to a hush. All eyes fixed upon Throggsonn, and as dumb as the seven-footer was, he knew this was some sort of set-up...He at times was an unstoppable force. Had he met his match in an immovable object?
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MechaPilot
Explorer
I know I frequently don't feel moved to start threads to share my creations. I generally don't expect other people to enjoy or appreciate what I create, so I usually keep it to myself.
I don't always start threads on ENWorld, but when I do, Chuck Norris dusts off his PHB.
BoldItalic
First Post
Throg Throggsonn swaggered into the Painted Pumpkin and growled at the barkeeper. "Hey Jak, a quart of ale for me and ... a thimblefull for the little guy on the stool."
"Hey, big spender!" replied the brownie barfly. "for a Gnome I'm pretty big. I even get mistaken for a Dwarf, by people who haven't seen one before" The small form of Gildan Midas said "Anyway, how are the rest of your band of merry men?"
"If ye can lift this wee bar of soap up from the bar ladee, I'll see your drinks free for the night." replied the pumpkin-nosed barkeep. As he uttered those words, the crowded, bustling tavern sank to a hush. All eyes fixed upon Throggsonn, and as dumb as the seven-footer was, he knew this was some sort of set-up...He at times was an unstoppable force. Had he met his match in an immovable object?
Gildan giggled and swiftly downed his drink. He had made an Arcana check and he knew this was going to be interesting.
Throg look carefully at the bar of soap. He gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. He peered carefully under the bar. He looked at his quart of ale and noted that the suds floating on top had formed into a smiley face. He took this as a good omen. He looked the barkeeper squarely in the eye (did I mention Jak was a one-eyed barkeeper?), then, from his back, he unstrapped his Battleaxe of Meaningful Significance and muttered a prayer to the ancestors.
Several people who haven't hitherto been mentioned in the story, drew back. There was a whoom noise as the blade sliced the air. Then there was a slrrick! noise as the blade sliced through the wooden legs holding up the bar followed by a thudcrash as the entire bar dropped six inches before your very eyes, children.
The bar of soap ...
"Hey, big spender!" replied the brownie barfly. "for a Gnome I'm pretty big. I even get mistaken for a Dwarf, by people who haven't seen one before" The small form of Gildan Midas said "Anyway, how are the rest of your band of merry men?"
"If ye can lift this wee bar of soap up from the bar ladee, I'll see your drinks free for the night." replied the pumpkin-nosed barkeep. As he uttered those words, the crowded, bustling tavern sank to a hush. All eyes fixed upon Throggsonn, and as dumb as the seven-footer was, he knew this was some sort of set-up...He at times was an unstoppable force. Had he met his match in an immovable object?
Gildan giggled and swiftly downed his drink. He had made an Arcana check and he knew this was going to be interesting.
Throg look carefully at the bar of soap. He gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. He peered carefully under the bar. He looked at his quart of ale and noted that the suds floating on top had formed into a smiley face. He took this as a good omen. He looked the barkeeper squarely in the eye (did I mention Jak was a one-eyed barkeeper?), then, from his back, he unstrapped his Battleaxe of Meaningful Significance and muttered a prayer to the ancestors.
Several people who haven't hitherto been mentioned in the story, drew back. There was a whoom noise as the blade sliced the air. Then there was a slrrick! noise as the blade sliced through the wooden legs holding up the bar followed by a thudcrash as the entire bar dropped six inches before your very eyes, children.
The bar of soap ...
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rgoodbb
Adventurer
Throg Throggsonn swaggered into the Painted Pumpkin and growled at the barkeeper. "Hey Jak, a quart of ale for me and ... a thimblefull for the little guy on the stool."
"Hey, big spender!" replied the brownie barfly. "for a Gnome I'm pretty big. I even get mistaken for a Dwarf, by people who haven't seen one before" The small form of Gildan Midas said "Anyway, how are the rest of your band of merry men?"
"If ye can lift this wee bar of soap up from the bar ladee, I'll see your drinks free for the night." replied the pumpkin-nosed barkeep. As he uttered those words, the crowded, bustling tavern sank to a hush. All eyes fixed upon Throggsonn, and as dumb as the seven-footer was, he knew this was some sort of set-up...He at times was an unstoppable force. Had he met his match in an immovable object?
Gildan giggled and swiftly downed his drink. He had made an Arcana check and he knew this was going to be interesting.
Throg look carefully at the bar of soap. He gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. He peered carefully under the bar. He looked at his quart of ale and noted that the suds floating on top had formed into a smiley face. He took this as a good omen. He looked the barkeeper squarely in the eye (did I mention Jak was a one-eyed barkeeper?), then, from his back, he unstrapped his Battleaxe of Meaningful Significance and muttered a prayer to the ancestors.
Several people who haven't hitherto been mentioned in the story, drew back. There was a whoom noise as the blade sliced the air. Then there was a slrrick! noise as the blade sliced through the wooden legs holding up the bar followed by a thudcrash as the entire bar dropped six inches before your very eyes, children.
The bar of soap ...
________________________________________________________________________________________
... Had not moved
In a moment of pure inspiration, Throg Throggsonn realised that the Fighter, Barbarian, Paladin, Life Cleric, Moon Druid, Abjurer Wizard and the Fiend Warlock were all naught in comparrison to this individual. If he could get this, at times, unmovable bar of soap to join the party. Well, they may have just unearthed the most perfect Tank that did ever exist.
This could also be why, Throggsonn - son of Throgg reasoned, the Fighter really just sucked, and the Warlord had become extinct.
Throg reasoned that he had never reasoned before and that this bar of soap was making him a deep-thinker, (In fact his Int and Wis stats had just skyrocketed by 6 points each giving him a now combined intelligence and wisdom of 18!)
I’m going to talk to it instead of falling for this trick
…….Uhm, y’know, uhm, like. I was last bar standing on the latest series of Survivor Soap: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!!!! Man that was brutal man and uhm, y’know, won a holiday to here of all places man. Since then I have become uhm like y’know complacent man and kind of stuck. I’m uhm, y’know like really bored now… Y’know?
Just at that moment, Spiton-the Bard flamboyantly entered and floated across the room, accompanied by flamboyant trumpets and just enough breeze to float his beautiful flamboyant golden hair. He flamboyantly Prestidigitationed his head and body to remove both the encrusted and recently deposited saliva; an unfortunate but common side effect upon ever flamboyantly introducing himself. Some people would just never understand, he flamboyantly mused as he pulled up his flamboyantly coloured tartan breeches and scratched his back with Titicaca, his flamboyant trombone...
"Hey, big spender!" replied the brownie barfly. "for a Gnome I'm pretty big. I even get mistaken for a Dwarf, by people who haven't seen one before" The small form of Gildan Midas said "Anyway, how are the rest of your band of merry men?"
"If ye can lift this wee bar of soap up from the bar ladee, I'll see your drinks free for the night." replied the pumpkin-nosed barkeep. As he uttered those words, the crowded, bustling tavern sank to a hush. All eyes fixed upon Throggsonn, and as dumb as the seven-footer was, he knew this was some sort of set-up...He at times was an unstoppable force. Had he met his match in an immovable object?
Gildan giggled and swiftly downed his drink. He had made an Arcana check and he knew this was going to be interesting.
Throg look carefully at the bar of soap. He gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. He peered carefully under the bar. He looked at his quart of ale and noted that the suds floating on top had formed into a smiley face. He took this as a good omen. He looked the barkeeper squarely in the eye (did I mention Jak was a one-eyed barkeeper?), then, from his back, he unstrapped his Battleaxe of Meaningful Significance and muttered a prayer to the ancestors.
Several people who haven't hitherto been mentioned in the story, drew back. There was a whoom noise as the blade sliced the air. Then there was a slrrick! noise as the blade sliced through the wooden legs holding up the bar followed by a thudcrash as the entire bar dropped six inches before your very eyes, children.
The bar of soap ...
________________________________________________________________________________________
... Had not moved
In a moment of pure inspiration, Throg Throggsonn realised that the Fighter, Barbarian, Paladin, Life Cleric, Moon Druid, Abjurer Wizard and the Fiend Warlock were all naught in comparrison to this individual. If he could get this, at times, unmovable bar of soap to join the party. Well, they may have just unearthed the most perfect Tank that did ever exist.
This could also be why, Throggsonn - son of Throgg reasoned, the Fighter really just sucked, and the Warlord had become extinct.
Throg reasoned that he had never reasoned before and that this bar of soap was making him a deep-thinker, (In fact his Int and Wis stats had just skyrocketed by 6 points each giving him a now combined intelligence and wisdom of 18!)
I’m going to talk to it instead of falling for this trick
…….Uhm, y’know, uhm, like. I was last bar standing on the latest series of Survivor Soap: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!!!! Man that was brutal man and uhm, y’know, won a holiday to here of all places man. Since then I have become uhm like y’know complacent man and kind of stuck. I’m uhm, y’know like really bored now… Y’know?
Just at that moment, Spiton-the Bard flamboyantly entered and floated across the room, accompanied by flamboyant trumpets and just enough breeze to float his beautiful flamboyant golden hair. He flamboyantly Prestidigitationed his head and body to remove both the encrusted and recently deposited saliva; an unfortunate but common side effect upon ever flamboyantly introducing himself. Some people would just never understand, he flamboyantly mused as he pulled up his flamboyantly coloured tartan breeches and scratched his back with Titicaca, his flamboyant trombone...
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BoldItalic
First Post
"Oh, wow!" said the soap, having failed its saving throw against the bard's Charisma. "Take me, I am yours!"
The bard took the soap lovingly into his hands and sang all four verses of the love aria from a well-known soap opera. He was utterly smitten. Or was it smitted? No, I'm pretty sure 'smitten' is the correct usage here. There is a whole thread about it somewhere. But I digress.
"Oh, get a priest," groaned Throg.
Just then, Sister Hermione entered the Painted Pumpkin. Jak the barkeeper had diversified into selling embroidery cottons and she needed some three-ply turquoise for some new vestments she was making. "Blessings upon thee," she spake with a nod to Throg whom she last adventured with not a seven-night ago. "Doth someone hath need of a wedding, perchance? It is Ogbert's Day on the morrow and the auspices are favorable."
The bard took the soap lovingly into his hands and sang all four verses of the love aria from a well-known soap opera. He was utterly smitten. Or was it smitted? No, I'm pretty sure 'smitten' is the correct usage here. There is a whole thread about it somewhere. But I digress.
"Oh, get a priest," groaned Throg.
Just then, Sister Hermione entered the Painted Pumpkin. Jak the barkeeper had diversified into selling embroidery cottons and she needed some three-ply turquoise for some new vestments she was making. "Blessings upon thee," she spake with a nod to Throg whom she last adventured with not a seven-night ago. "Doth someone hath need of a wedding, perchance? It is Ogbert's Day on the morrow and the auspices are favorable."
rgoodbb
Adventurer
Upon further discussion, (and to satiate my need for crap humour), the group found out that the bar of soap’s full name was Bar De-Door
The party; now assembled and wed, through the cunning use of new UA spells, they left for their honeymoon, and what better than a honeymoon for adventurers than an adventure honeymoon.
After browsing for hours and cutting out the middleman, the party (cheaply) opted for an icy mountain campaign setting
Jak the Nothic barkeep wept out of his one eye and wished them well, as he started repairs on his recently cleaved bar.
The Party
Throg Throggsonn Barbarian Cleaver
Gildan Midas Teeny, Tiny (Brownie/Gnome snowflake mix) Wizard
Spiton-the Bard Flamboyant Bard
Bar De-Door Ultimate Tank
Sister Hermione Cleric of Ye Olde Tongue
The party; now assembled and wed, through the cunning use of new UA spells, they left for their honeymoon, and what better than a honeymoon for adventurers than an adventure honeymoon.
After browsing for hours and cutting out the middleman, the party (cheaply) opted for an icy mountain campaign setting
Jak the Nothic barkeep wept out of his one eye and wished them well, as he started repairs on his recently cleaved bar.
The Party
Throg Throggsonn Barbarian Cleaver
Gildan Midas Teeny, Tiny (Brownie/Gnome snowflake mix) Wizard
Spiton-the Bard Flamboyant Bard
Bar De-Door Ultimate Tank
Sister Hermione Cleric of Ye Olde Tongue
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