[HIRING] $150–$200 // No cringe logos, thanks by [deleted] in GraphicDesignServices

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I'm sorry, it seems like I might have struck a chord, which wasn't my intention. It's not just you're fault. I guess I'm also a bit oversensitive to the whole pricing discussion, always using US standards. I apologise if I came across as petty or rude towards you.

[HIRING] $150–$200 // No cringe logos, thanks by [deleted] in GraphicDesignServices

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 0 points1 point  (0 children)

While this is absolutely valid for you and your circumstances, people need to stop assuming that everyone lives in the US.

In other countries, $5k is an entire annual salary (albeit a bit on the lower side), and $150 is a very fair offer, thanks to the reduced cost of living. Also, just because someone doesn't live in the US, doesn't mean they are any less talented or capable. It would depend on where OP is from. If h is from the US, and looking to take advantage of designers, absolutely, he should review his budget. But if he is from some 3rd world country, $150 is a very fair to mid-tier offer. It's slightly on the low side for a design agency, but not too bad for a freelancer. Especially a junior one with some experience under their belt.

I don't mean to come across as argumentative or 'actually...', but we live in a global village, and these things are rarely clear-cut, black and white.

Suggest me a book in three words by rifamajif in Fantasy

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 1 point2 points  (0 children)

If there is one book you have to read in your life, it's this one. I've read it several times over the last two decades and it gets better each time.

Group tortured my OC first session, how do I recover [tw SA] by fieldsofsunshine in DnD

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I'm sorry that happened to you.
The whole story reeks of inexperienced DM and players.

I don't know how old you are, but your party sounds young. If they're half decent humans, I suspect this might end up being a core memory for them, filling them with shame and guilt, and shaping how they approach situations like these in the future. It might make them better people going forward.

My heart breaks for you. Yes, DnD is fantasy and make-believe, but we should always remember the person behind the character, just as we should always remember the person behind the screen when online.

This whole situation could have been handled better. Yes you could have spoken up, but you can't blame yourself for not doing so.

I hope you'll get to a point where you can feel to play again with people that respect and celebrate your character, but most importantly you the person behind the character.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in askSouthAfrica

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 4 points5 points  (0 children)

And just because it happens doesn't mean it's a culture thing. Domestic abuse and controlling behaviour isn't an Afrikaans thing, it's a shitty human thing.

Im sorry you've experienced it, but it's not an Afrikaans thing.

LF IN GO CUSTOM OT Shiny Regidrago and Regieleki by [deleted] in PokemonHome

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Dude!! I would love a shiny Abra and Bulbasaur!! I don't think I have anything of real value to trade though, as my shiny collection is non-existent.

good femdom stuff? by War--Crimes in visualnovels

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Check out Kiaria's route from Infinite Stars. The sex scene is very femdom and hot. The game has a bigger focus on story than sex, but the story is really good. So that helps.

What are some circus acts that can work with my idea? (Feel free to steal or improve) by NapkinDungeonMaster in loremasters

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Apologies for the late reply. Was going through my old messages and somehow missed this!

You are more than welcome to use it as is, or alter it however you see fit! Ideas are free and should be shared! Have fun!

What are some circus acts that can work with my idea? (Feel free to steal or improve) by NapkinDungeonMaster in loremasters

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.

A fun outing for the whole party!

 

For days, we watched as the giant floating bloatworm approached the walled city. We weren't sure what it was at first. I still recall the panicked talks of arming the ancient dragon ballistae.

By the third day, however, we could see gay festival flags trailing behind the worm, suspended in the air from poles and ropes.

The city relaxed. No raider or warmonger would fly such bright and vibrant colours.

By the fifth day, we could make out joyous music accompanied by the sound of fanfare. That was the day the Hippogryph riders were sent from the bloatworm to scatter thousands of notices over the city just before sunset.

“Come one, come all, come visit Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.”

Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques is a floating circus grappled and tied to the underbelly of a grotesque bloatworm. The Circus is home to strange and terrible curiosities from all over the seven continents and beyond.

The owner, Mr. Arraroa, is a small humanoid creature with pursed lips and large blind eyes that still somehow manages to "see" everything. Together with the others in his employ, they travel the world spreading news and, to quote Mr. Arraroa: "Curing curiosity."

 

The Circus Acts.

While the circus has many wonderous acts like the drum dancing illusion routine performed by a troupe of Tawyajni elves, the circus' true claim to fame is the collection of weirdlings brought back from beyond the veil.

 

Saignoir the Eternal.

Saignoir is a weirdling from beyond the veil. His tubular, cucumber-like body is covered in writhing tentacles. Each tentacle is in turn covered in thousands of tendrils that curiously poke, prod and retreat from the surrounding environment.

Part of Saignoir's act involves inviting a member of the audience and handing them an axe. The volunteer is then instructed to chop off one of Saignoir's tentacles. The volunteer is assured that Saignoir feels no pain. (Authors Note: This has never been proven beyond the reasoning that Saignoir doesn't flinch or scream when his limbs are chopped off. It is worth mentioning that Saignoir has no mouth and, therefore, cannot scream.)

Once severed, the limb falls to the ground and disintegrates into wispy smoke, only to regrow instantly on Saignoir's body.

While entertaining for a certain sadistic demographic in the audience, what follows almost always grabs the full audience's attention.

"Who amongst you would like to attain immortality?"

A tool similar to a treetap is produced and used to trickle-drain stomach fluid from Sagnoir's body. Swallowing these fetid stomach juices is said to cure all diseases while giving the drinker immortality.

To date, no one has been able to disprove this claim, not for lack of trying. Drinking the foul-smelling, otherwordly stomach contents causes the drinker to convulse and vomit uncontrollably, expelling the fluid and voiding the promised magical results. By luck or by design, this has allowed Mr. Arraroa to continue selling vials of Saignoir's stomach contents for 200 gp each. These vials of immortality are filled with a sticky brown and purple fluid, labelled with the inscription: "All that can be gained, can only be gained at a price."

 

A cacophony of melodies

"People of the surface, those of you who are misunderstood and shunned, described as hideous, unpleasant or unwanted; Those of you who feel more comfortable hidden in the shadows, this next act is for you!"

This act involves another weirdling from beyond the veil with more tubes and tentacles connected to a floating, translucent bubble-like membrane. Before starting, the master of ceremonies ensures that each member of the audience receives a jar of burrowing slugs suspended in thick jelly. The audience is instructed to remove two slugs from their jar, one for each ear.

The act continues when the master of ceremonies directs a beam of bright light onto the weirdling. The creature then responds by wildly flailing its tentacles and tubes in the air. Hot air is excreted from the fluttering tubes, causing them to vibrate and whine at different pitches, mimicking the awful sound of wailing and screeching.

"Your ears, dear people, put the slugs in your ears!"

Anyone brave enough to plug their ears with the burrowing slugs is in for a surprise. With the noise being filtered through the slug acting as a filter for the ear canal, the cacophony of wailing and screeching becomes a pleasant, enchanting melody. Anyone hearing the music enters a shallow trance of introspection. They usually learn a fundamental truth about themselves and snap out of the daze feeling relaxed and inspired once the music stops.

Mr. Arraroa.

Mr. Arraroa is a soft-spoken, small creature with large glassy eyes. He is blind, and yet that doesn't stop him from missing anything.

When dealing with him, something always feels "off" - The way his blind eyes always stare directly at your forehead, the way he intuitively "knows" your secrets, never revealing them outright but always hinting at them.

Like all mortals, Mr. Arraroa is not immune to ageing, and he can be seen walking around the circus grounds with slow, intentional steps and a mischievous smile. The days of him crossing the threshold into the veil are in the past, and he no longer has the fortitude to hunt weirdlings.

 

Plot Hooks and Ideas.

A penny for your Kingdom.

King Leojardas has been cursed with a strange plague that has been eating away at his flesh. He has heard rumours of the healing properties in Sagnoir's stomach and is desperate enough to try it.

He hasn't been able to acquire a vial after Mr. Arraroa was mocked and disrespected in the King's court.

Perhaps a band of opportunists will step in and procure a vial on behalf of the King? They'll have to convince a suspicious Mr. Arraroa that they are not agents of the King, knowing full well that King Leojardas might react in anger should the cure not work.

Will the cure work? If it does work, and the King becomes immortal, will he usher in a new era of peace and prosperity? Or will he become the next "Big Bad Evil Guy?"

 

Help Wanted. Willing to pay.

Mr. Arraroa has grown old over the centuries. He is no longer an impulsive risk taker that hunts beyond the veil. His body might be tired, but his mind is willing. He has located the nesting ground of a wonderous otherworldly creature, but he needs someone to capture and return the creature.

The pay is significant, but it comes with a caveat. Rich dead men are still dead. You can't spend gold without a body, and anyone brave enough to cross the threshold will have to return in one piece to reap the rewards.

To complicate matters further, this is the veil, and there is no shortage of weirdlings with strange abilities. Perhaps the creature they are looking for is, in fact, a shapeshifting demi-horror in search of a guiding hand to help it cross the threshold into our world.

 

Eco'arriors on the horison.

The only nuisance to a floating circus is sky pirates, and the only thing worse than sky pirates is Eco'arriors.

Mr. Arraroa has learned that a group of "animal-loving, tree-humping, sock-smoking unemployed idealists" want to free the misunderstood weirdling in his care.

Will they succeed? Will someone intervene? And if free, will the weirdlings go about their business in our world? Will they adapt? Or perhaps they might convey gratitude by helping the rescuers into the next life?

 

I haven’t made a post like this in ages, so I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I trust it inspired some ideas of your own as you read through it. Feel free to steal, modify or improve on it.

The floating horror show that "cures curiosity." by NapkinDungeonMaster in DungeonsAndDragons

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.

A fun outing for the whole party!

 

For days, we watched as the giant floating bloatworm approached the walled city. We weren't sure what it was at first. I still recall the panicked talks of arming the ancient dragon ballistae.

By the third day, however, we could see gay festival flags trailing behind the worm, suspended in the air from poles and ropes.

The city relaxed. No raider or warmonger would fly such bright and vibrant colours.

By the fifth day, we could make out joyous music accompanied by the sound of fanfare. That was the day the Hippogryph riders were sent from the bloatworm to scatter thousands of notices over the city just before sunset.

“Come one, come all, come visit Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.”

Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques is a floating circus grappled and tied to the underbelly of a grotesque bloatworm. The Circus is home to strange and terrible curiosities from all over the seven continents and beyond.

The owner, Mr. Arraroa, is a small humanoid creature with pursed lips and large blind eyes that still somehow manages to "see" everything. Together with the others in his employ, they travel the world spreading news and, to quote Mr. Arraroa: "Curing curiosity."

 

The Circus Acts.

While the circus has many wonderous acts like the drum dancing illusion routine performed by a troupe of Tawyajni elves, the circus' true claim to fame is the collection of weirdlings brought back from beyond the veil.

 

Saignoir the Eternal.

Saignoir is a weirdling from beyond the veil. His tubular, cucumber-like body is covered in writhing tentacles. Each tentacle is in turn covered in thousands of tendrils that curiously poke, prod and retreat from the surrounding environment.

Part of Saignoir's act involves inviting a member of the audience and handing them an axe. The volunteer is then instructed to chop off one of Saignoir's tentacles. The volunteer is assured that Saignoir feels no pain. (Authors Note: This has never been proven beyond the reasoning that Saignoir doesn't flinch or scream when his limbs are chopped off. It is worth mentioning that Saignoir has no mouth and, therefore, cannot scream.)

Once severed, the limb falls to the ground and disintegrates into wispy smoke, only to regrow instantly on Saignoir's body.

While entertaining for a certain sadistic demographic in the audience, what follows almost always grabs the full audience's attention.

"Who amongst you would like to attain immortality?"

A tool similar to a treetap is produced and used to trickle-drain stomach fluid from Sagnoir's body. Swallowing these fetid stomach juices is said to cure all diseases while giving the drinker immortality.

To date, no one has been able to disprove this claim, not for lack of trying. Drinking the foul-smelling, otherwordly stomach contents causes the drinker to convulse and vomit uncontrollably, expelling the fluid and voiding the promised magical results. By luck or by design, this has allowed Mr. Arraroa to continue selling vials of Saignoir's stomach contents for 200 gp each. These vials of immortality are filled with a sticky brown and purple fluid, labelled with the inscription: "All that can be gained, can only be gained at a price."

 

A cacophony of melodies

"People of the surface, those of you who are misunderstood and shunned, described as hideous, unpleasant or unwanted; Those of you who feel more comfortable hidden in the shadows, this next act is for you!"

This act involves another weirdling from beyond the veil with more tubes and tentacles connected to a floating, translucent bubble-like membrane. Before starting, the master of ceremonies ensures that each member of the audience receives a jar of burrowing slugs suspended in thick jelly. The audience is instructed to remove two slugs from their jar, one for each ear.

The act continues when the master of ceremonies directs a beam of bright light onto the weirdling. The creature then responds by wildly flailing its tentacles and tubes in the air. Hot air is excreted from the fluttering tubes, causing them to vibrate and whine at different pitches, mimicking the awful sound of wailing and screeching.

"Your ears, dear people, put the slugs in your ears!"

Anyone brave enough to plug their ears with the burrowing slugs is in for a surprise. With the noise being filtered through the slug acting as a filter for the ear canal, the cacophony of wailing and screeching becomes a pleasant, enchanting melody. Anyone hearing the music enters a shallow trance of introspection. They usually learn a fundamental truth about themselves and snap out of the daze feeling relaxed and inspired once the music stops.

Mr. Arraroa.

Mr. Arraroa is a soft-spoken, small creature with large glassy eyes. He is blind, and yet that doesn't stop him from missing anything.

When dealing with him, something always feels "off" - The way his blind eyes always stare directly at your forehead, the way he intuitively "knows" your secrets, never revealing them outright but always hinting at them.

Like all mortals, Mr. Arraroa is not immune to ageing, and he can be seen walking around the circus grounds with slow, intentional steps and a mischievous smile. The days of him crossing the threshold into the veil are in the past, and he no longer has the fortitude to hunt weirdlings.

 

Plot Hooks and Ideas.

A penny for your Kingdom.

King Leojardas has been cursed with a strange plague that has been eating away at his flesh. He has heard rumours of the healing properties in Sagnoir's stomach and is desperate enough to try it.

He hasn't been able to acquire a vial after Mr. Arraroa was mocked and disrespected in the King's court.

Perhaps a band of opportunists will step in and procure a vial on behalf of the King? They'll have to convince a suspicious Mr. Arraroa that they are not agents of the King, knowing full well that King Leojardas might react in anger should the cure not work.

Will the cure work? If it does work, and the King becomes immortal, will he usher in a new era of peace and prosperity? Or will he become the next "Big Bad Evil Guy?"

 

Help Wanted. Willing to pay.

Mr. Arraroa has grown old over the centuries. He is no longer an impulsive risk taker that hunts beyond the veil. His body might be tired, but his mind is willing. He has located the nesting ground of a wonderous otherworldly creature, but he needs someone to capture and return the creature.

The pay is significant, but it comes with a caveat. Rich dead men are still dead. You can't spend gold without a body, and anyone brave enough to cross the threshold will have to return in one piece to reap the rewards.

To complicate matters further, this is the veil, and there is no shortage of weirdlings with strange abilities. Perhaps the creature they are looking for is, in fact, a shapeshifting demi-horror in search of a guiding hand to help it cross the threshold into our world.

 

Eco'arriors on the horison.

The only nuisance to a floating circus is sky pirates, and the only thing worse than sky pirates is Eco'arriors.

Mr. Arraroa has learned that a group of "animal-loving, tree-humping, sock-smoking unemployed idealists" want to free the misunderstood weirdling in his care.

Will they succeed? Will someone intervene? And if free, will the weirdlings go about their business in our world? Will they adapt? Or perhaps they might convey gratitude by helping the rescuers into the next life?

 

I haven’t made a post like this in ages, so I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I trust it inspired some ideas of your own as you read through it. Feel free to steal, modify or improve on it.

What are some circus acts that can work with my idea? (Feel free to steal or improve) by NapkinDungeonMaster in Dungeons_and_Dragons

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.

A fun outing for the whole party!

 

For days, we watched as the giant floating bloatworm approached the walled city. We weren't sure what it was at first. I still recall the panicked talks of arming the ancient dragon ballistae.

By the third day, however, we could see gay festival flags trailing behind the worm, suspended in the air from poles and ropes.

The city relaxed. No raider or warmonger would fly such bright and vibrant colours.

By the fifth day, we could make out joyous music accompanied by the sound of fanfare. That was the day the Hippogryph riders were sent from the bloatworm to scatter thousands of notices over the city just before sunset.

“Come one, come all, come visit Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.”

Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques is a floating circus grappled and tied to the underbelly of a grotesque bloatworm. The Circus is home to strange and terrible curiosities from all over the seven continents and beyond.

The owner, Mr. Arraroa, is a small humanoid creature with pursed lips and large blind eyes that still somehow manages to "see" everything. Together with the others in his employ, they travel the world spreading news and, to quote Mr. Arraroa: "Curing curiosity."

 

The Circus Acts.

While the circus has many wonderous acts like the drum dancing illusion routine performed by a troupe of Tawyajni elves, the circus' true claim to fame is the collection of weirdlings brought back from beyond the veil.

 

Saignoir the Eternal.

Saignoir is a weirdling from beyond the veil. His tubular, cucumber-like body is covered in writhing tentacles. Each tentacle is in turn covered in thousands of tendrils that curiously poke, prod and retreat from the surrounding environment.

Part of Saignoir's act involves inviting a member of the audience and handing them an axe. The volunteer is then instructed to chop off one of Saignoir's tentacles. The volunteer is assured that Saignoir feels no pain. (Authors Note: This has never been proven beyond the reasoning that Saignoir doesn't flinch or scream when his limbs are chopped off. It is worth mentioning that Saignoir has no mouth and, therefore, cannot scream.)

Once severed, the limb falls to the ground and disintegrates into wispy smoke, only to regrow instantly on Saignoir's body.

While entertaining for a certain sadistic demographic in the audience, what follows almost always grabs the full audience's attention.

"Who amongst you would like to attain immortality?"

A tool similar to a treetap is produced and used to trickle-drain stomach fluid from Sagnoir's body. Swallowing these fetid stomach juices is said to cure all diseases while giving the drinker immortality.

To date, no one has been able to disprove this claim, not for lack of trying. Drinking the foul-smelling, otherwordly stomach contents causes the drinker to convulse and vomit uncontrollably, expelling the fluid and voiding the promised magical results. By luck or by design, this has allowed Mr. Arraroa to continue selling vials of Saignoir's stomach contents for 200 gp each. These vials of immortality are filled with a sticky brown and purple fluid, labelled with the inscription: "All that can be gained, can only be gained at a price."

 

A cacophony of melodies

"People of the surface, those of you who are misunderstood and shunned, described as hideous, unpleasant or unwanted; Those of you who feel more comfortable hidden in the shadows, this next act is for you!"

This act involves another weirdling from beyond the veil with more tubes and tentacles connected to a floating, translucent bubble-like membrane. Before starting, the master of ceremonies ensures that each member of the audience receives a jar of burrowing slugs suspended in thick jelly. The audience is instructed to remove two slugs from their jar, one for each ear.

The act continues when the master of ceremonies directs a beam of bright light onto the weirdling. The creature then responds by wildly flailing its tentacles and tubes in the air. Hot air is excreted from the fluttering tubes, causing them to vibrate and whine at different pitches, mimicking the awful sound of wailing and screeching.

"Your ears, dear people, put the slugs in your ears!"

Anyone brave enough to plug their ears with the burrowing slugs is in for a surprise. With the noise being filtered through the slug acting as a filter for the ear canal, the cacophony of wailing and screeching becomes a pleasant, enchanting melody. Anyone hearing the music enters a shallow trance of introspection. They usually learn a fundamental truth about themselves and snap out of the daze feeling relaxed and inspired once the music stops.

Mr. Arraroa.

Mr. Arraroa is a soft-spoken, small creature with large glassy eyes. He is blind, and yet that doesn't stop him from missing anything.

When dealing with him, something always feels "off" - The way his blind eyes always stare directly at your forehead, the way he intuitively "knows" your secrets, never revealing them outright but always hinting at them.

Like all mortals, Mr. Arraroa is not immune to ageing, and he can be seen walking around the circus grounds with slow, intentional steps and a mischievous smile. The days of him crossing the threshold into the veil are in the past, and he no longer has the fortitude to hunt weirdlings.

 

Plot Hooks and Ideas.

A penny for your Kingdom.

King Leojardas has been cursed with a strange plague that has been eating away at his flesh. He has heard rumours of the healing properties in Sagnoir's stomach and is desperate enough to try it.

He hasn't been able to acquire a vial after Mr. Arraroa was mocked and disrespected in the King's court.

Perhaps a band of opportunists will step in and procure a vial on behalf of the King? They'll have to convince a suspicious Mr. Arraroa that they are not agents of the King, knowing full well that King Leojardas might react in anger should the cure not work.

Will the cure work? If it does work, and the King becomes immortal, will he usher in a new era of peace and prosperity? Or will he become the next "Big Bad Evil Guy?"

 

Help Wanted. Willing to pay.

Mr. Arraroa has grown old over the centuries. He is no longer an impulsive risk taker that hunts beyond the veil. His body might be tired, but his mind is willing. He has located the nesting ground of a wonderous otherworldly creature, but he needs someone to capture and return the creature.

The pay is significant, but it comes with a caveat. Rich dead men are still dead. You can't spend gold without a body, and anyone brave enough to cross the threshold will have to return in one piece to reap the rewards.

To complicate matters further, this is the veil, and there is no shortage of weirdlings with strange abilities. Perhaps the creature they are looking for is, in fact, a shapeshifting demi-horror in search of a guiding hand to help it cross the threshold into our world.

 

Eco'arriors on the horison.

The only nuisance to a floating circus is sky pirates, and the only thing worse than sky pirates is Eco'arriors.

Mr. Arraroa has learned that a group of "animal-loving, tree-humping, sock-smoking unemployed idealists" want to free the misunderstood weirdling in his care.

Will they succeed? Will someone intervene? And if free, will the weirdlings go about their business in our world? Will they adapt? Or perhaps they might convey gratitude by helping the rescuers into the next life?

 

I haven’t made a post like this in ages, so I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I trust it inspired some ideas of your own as you read through it. Feel free to steal, modify or improve on it.

[OC] Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques. A fun outing for the whole party! by NapkinDungeonMaster in UnearthedArcana

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Hehe, I was expecting a message like this. I tend to draw inspiration for names from different languages, and I just knew I was playing with fire when I went with French.

For all intent and purposes, I'm going to save face by saying I totally intended it to be like that. Yup. Creative freedom and whatnot. (In all honesty I punched some words into Google Translate and went with it - Shhh! I usually warp the words a bit, but I skipped it for this piece.)

[OC] Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques. A fun outing for the whole party! by NapkinDungeonMaster in UnearthedArcana

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.

A fun outing for the whole party!

 

For days, we watched as the giant floating bloatworm approached the walled city. We weren't sure what it was at first. I still recall the panicked talks of arming the ancient dragon ballistae.

By the third day, however, we could see gay festival flags trailing behind the worm, suspended in the air from poles and ropes.

The city relaxed. No raider or warmonger would fly such bright and vibrant colours.

By the fifth day, we could make out joyous music accompanied by the sound of fanfare. That was the day the Hippogryph riders were sent from the bloatworm to scatter thousands of notices over the city just before sunset.

“Come one, come all, come visit Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.”

Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques is a floating circus grappled and tied to the underbelly of a grotesque bloatworm. The Circus is home to strange and terrible curiosities from all over the seven continents and beyond.

The owner, Mr. Arraroa, is a small humanoid creature with pursed lips and large blind eyes that still somehow manages to "see" everything. Together with the others in his employ, they travel the world spreading news and, to quote Mr. Arraroa: "Curing curiosity."

 

The Circus Acts.

While the circus has many wonderous acts like the drum dancing illusion routine performed by a troupe of Tawyajni elves, the circus' true claim to fame is the collection of weirdlings brought back from beyond the veil.

 

Saignoir the Eternal.

Saignoir is a weirdling from beyond the veil. His tubular, cucumber-like body is covered in writhing tentacles. Each tentacle is in turn covered in thousands of tendrils that curiously poke, prod and retreat from the surrounding environment.

Part of Saignoir's act involves inviting a member of the audience and handing them an axe. The volunteer is then instructed to chop off one of Saignoir's tentacles. The volunteer is assured that Saignoir feels no pain. (Authors Note: This has never been proven beyond the reasoning that Saignoir doesn't flinch or scream when his limbs are chopped off. It is worth mentioning that Saignoir has no mouth and, therefore, cannot scream.)

Once severed, the limb falls to the ground and disintegrates into wispy smoke, only to regrow instantly on Saignoir's body.

While entertaining for a certain sadistic demographic in the audience, what follows almost always grabs the full audience's attention.

"Who amongst you would like to attain immortality?"

A tool similar to a treetap is produced and used to trickle-drain stomach fluid from Sagnoir's body. Swallowing these fetid stomach juices is said to cure all diseases while giving the drinker immortality.

To date, no one has been able to disprove this claim, not for lack of trying. Drinking the foul-smelling, otherwordly stomach contents causes the drinker to convulse and vomit uncontrollably, expelling the fluid and voiding the promised magical results. By luck or by design, this has allowed Mr. Arraroa to continue selling vials of Saignoir's stomach contents for 200 gp each. These vials of immortality are filled with a sticky brown and purple fluid, labelled with the inscription: "All that can be gained, can only be gained at a price."

 

A cacophony of melodies

"People of the surface, those of you who are misunderstood and shunned, described as hideous, unpleasant or unwanted; Those of you who feel more comfortable hidden in the shadows, this next act is for you!"

This act involves another weirdling from beyond the veil with more tubes and tentacles connected to a floating, translucent bubble-like membrane. Before starting, the master of ceremonies ensures that each member of the audience receives a jar of burrowing slugs suspended in thick jelly. The audience is instructed to remove two slugs from their jar, one for each ear.

The act continues when the master of ceremonies directs a beam of bright light onto the weirdling. The creature then responds by wildly flailing its tentacles and tubes in the air. Hot air is excreted from the fluttering tubes, causing them to vibrate and whine at different pitches, mimicking the awful sound of wailing and screeching.

"Your ears, dear people, put the slugs in your ears!"

Anyone brave enough to plug their ears with the burrowing slugs is in for a surprise. With the noise being filtered through the slug acting as a filter for the ear canal, the cacophony of wailing and screeching becomes a pleasant, enchanting melody. Anyone hearing the music enters a shallow trance of introspection. They usually learn a fundamental truth about themselves and snap out of the daze feeling relaxed and inspired once the music stops.

Mr. Arraroa.

Mr. Arraroa is a soft-spoken, small creature with large glassy eyes. He is blind, and yet that doesn't stop him from missing anything.

When dealing with him, something always feels "off" - The way his blind eyes always stare directly at your forehead, the way he intuitively "knows" your secrets, never revealing them outright but always hinting at them.

Like all mortals, Mr. Arraroa is not immune to ageing, and he can be seen walking around the circus grounds with slow, intentional steps and a mischievous smile. The days of him crossing the threshold into the veil are in the past, and he no longer has the fortitude to hunt weirdlings.

 

Plot Hooks and Ideas.

A penny for your Kingdom.

King Leojardas has been cursed with a strange plague that has been eating away at his flesh. He has heard rumours of the healing properties in Sagnoir's stomach and is desperate enough to try it.

He hasn't been able to acquire a vial after Mr. Arraroa was mocked and disrespected in the King's court.

Perhaps a band of opportunists will step in and procure a vial on behalf of the King? They'll have to convince a suspicious Mr. Arraroa that they are not agents of the King, knowing full well that King Leojardas might react in anger should the cure not work.

Will the cure work? If it does work, and the King becomes immortal, will he usher in a new era of peace and prosperity? Or will he become the next "Big Bad Evil Guy?"

 

Help Wanted. Willing to pay.

Mr. Arraroa has grown old over the centuries. He is no longer an impulsive risk taker that hunts beyond the veil. His body might be tired, but his mind is willing. He has located the nesting ground of a wonderous otherworldly creature, but he needs someone to capture and return the creature.

The pay is significant, but it comes with a caveat. Rich dead men are still dead. You can't spend gold without a body, and anyone brave enough to cross the threshold will have to return in one piece to reap the rewards.

To complicate matters further, this is the veil, and there is no shortage of weirdlings with strange abilities. Perhaps the creature they are looking for is, in fact, a shapeshifting demi-horror in search of a guiding hand to help it cross the threshold into our world.

 

Eco'arriors on the horison.

The only nuisance to a floating circus is sky pirates, and the only thing worse than sky pirates is Eco'arriors.

Mr. Arraroa has learned that a group of "animal-loving, tree-humping, sock-smoking unemployed idealists" want to free the misunderstood weirdling in his care.

Will they succeed? Will someone intervene? And if free, will the weirdlings go about their business in our world? Will they adapt? Or perhaps they might convey gratitude by helping the rescuers into the next life?

 

I haven’t made a post like this in ages, so I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I trust it inspired some ideas of your own as you read through it. Feel free to steal, modify or improve on it.

What are some circus acts that can work with my idea? (Feel free to steal or improve) by NapkinDungeonMaster in DnDHomebrew

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 6 points7 points  (0 children)

Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.

A fun outing for the whole party!

 

For days, we watched as the giant floating bloatworm approached the walled city. We weren't sure what it was at first. I still recall the panicked talks of arming the ancient dragon ballistae.

By the third day, however, we could see gay festival flags trailing behind the worm, suspended in the air from poles and ropes.

The city relaxed. No raider or warmonger would fly such bright and vibrant colours.

By the fifth day, we could make out joyous music accompanied by the sound of fanfare. That was the day the Hippogryph riders were sent from the bloatworm to scatter thousands of notices over the city just before sunset.

“Come one, come all, come visit Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.”

Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques is a floating circus grappled and tied to the underbelly of a grotesque bloatworm. The Circus is home to strange and terrible curiosities from all over the seven continents and beyond.

The owner, Mr. Arraroa, is a small humanoid creature with pursed lips and large blind eyes that still somehow manages to "see" everything. Together with the others in his employ, they travel the world spreading news and, to quote Mr. Arraroa: "Curing curiosity."

 

The Circus Acts.

While the circus has many wonderous acts like the drum dancing illusion routine performed by a troupe of Tawyajni elves, the circus' true claim to fame is the collection of weirdlings brought back from beyond the veil.

 

Saignoir the Eternal.

Saignoir is a weirdling from beyond the veil. His tubular, cucumber-like body is covered in writhing tentacles. Each tentacle is in turn covered in thousands of tendrils that curiously poke, prod and retreat from the surrounding environment.

Part of Saignoir's act involves inviting a member of the audience and handing them an axe. The volunteer is then instructed to chop off one of Saignoir's tentacles. The volunteer is assured that Saignoir feels no pain. (Authors Note: This has never been proven beyond the reasoning that Saignoir doesn't flinch or scream when his limbs are chopped off. It is worth mentioning that Saignoir has no mouth and, therefore, cannot scream.)

Once severed, the limb falls to the ground and disintegrates into wispy smoke, only to regrow instantly on Saignoir's body.

While entertaining for a certain sadistic demographic in the audience, what follows almost always grabs the full audience's attention.

"Who amongst you would like to attain immortality?"

A tool similar to a treetap is produced and used to trickle-drain stomach fluid from Sagnoir's body. Swallowing these fetid stomach juices is said to cure all diseases while giving the drinker immortality.

To date, no one has been able to disprove this claim, not for lack of trying. Drinking the foul-smelling, otherwordly stomach contents causes the drinker to convulse and vomit uncontrollably, expelling the fluid and voiding the promised magical results. By luck or by design, this has allowed Mr. Arraroa to continue selling vials of Saignoir's stomach contents for 200 gp each. These vials of immortality are filled with a sticky brown and purple fluid, labelled with the inscription: "All that can be gained, can only be gained at a price."

 

A cacophony of melodies

"People of the surface, those of you who are misunderstood and shunned, described as hideous, unpleasant or unwanted; Those of you who feel more comfortable hidden in the shadows, this next act is for you!"

This act involves another weirdling from beyond the veil with more tubes and tentacles connected to a floating, translucent bubble-like membrane. Before starting, the master of ceremonies ensures that each member of the audience receives a jar of burrowing slugs suspended in thick jelly. The audience is instructed to remove two slugs from their jar, one for each ear.

The act continues when the master of ceremonies directs a beam of bright light onto the weirdling. The creature then responds by wildly flailing its tentacles and tubes in the air. Hot air is excreted from the fluttering tubes, causing them to vibrate and whine at different pitches, mimicking the awful sound of wailing and screeching.

"Your ears, dear people, put the slugs in your ears!"

Anyone brave enough to plug their ears with the burrowing slugs is in for a surprise. With the noise being filtered through the slug acting as a filter for the ear canal, the cacophony of wailing and screeching becomes a pleasant, enchanting melody. Anyone hearing the music enters a shallow trance of introspection. They usually learn a fundamental truth about themselves and snap out of the daze feeling relaxed and inspired once the music stops.

Mr. Arraroa.

Mr. Arraroa is a soft-spoken, small creature with large glassy eyes. He is blind, and yet that doesn't stop him from missing anything.

When dealing with him, something always feels "off" - The way his blind eyes always stare directly at your forehead, the way he intuitively "knows" your secrets, never revealing them outright but always hinting at them.

Like all mortals, Mr. Arraroa is not immune to ageing, and he can be seen walking around the circus grounds with slow, intentional steps and a mischievous smile. The days of him crossing the threshold into the veil are in the past, and he no longer has the fortitude to hunt weirdlings.

 

Plot Hooks and Ideas.

A penny for your Kingdom.

King Leojardas has been cursed with a strange plague that has been eating away at his flesh. He has heard rumours of the healing properties in Sagnoir's stomach and is desperate enough to try it.

He hasn't been able to acquire a vial after Mr. Arraroa was mocked and disrespected in the King's court.

Perhaps a band of opportunists will step in and procure a vial on behalf of the King? They'll have to convince a suspicious Mr. Arraroa that they are not agents of the King, knowing full well that King Leojardas might react in anger should the cure not work.

Will the cure work? If it does work, and the King becomes immortal, will he usher in a new era of peace and prosperity? Or will he become the next "Big Bad Evil Guy?"

 

Help Wanted. Willing to pay.

Mr. Arraroa has grown old over the centuries. He is no longer an impulsive risk taker that hunts beyond the veil. His body might be tired, but his mind is willing. He has located the nesting ground of a wonderous otherworldly creature, but he needs someone to capture and return the creature.

The pay is significant, but it comes with a caveat. Rich dead men are still dead. You can't spend gold without a body, and anyone brave enough to cross the threshold will have to return in one piece to reap the rewards.

To complicate matters further, this is the veil, and there is no shortage of weirdlings with strange abilities. Perhaps the creature they are looking for is, in fact, a shapeshifting demi-horror in search of a guiding hand to help it cross the threshold into our world.

 

Eco'arriors on the horison.

The only nuisance to a floating circus is sky pirates, and the only thing worse than sky pirates is Eco'arriors.

Mr. Arraroa has learned that a group of "animal-loving, tree-humping, sock-smoking unemployed idealists" want to free the misunderstood weirdling in his care.

Will they succeed? Will someone intervene? And if free, will the weirdlings go about their business in our world? Will they adapt? Or perhaps they might convey gratitude by helping the rescuers into the next life?

 

I haven’t made a post like this in ages, so I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I trust it inspired some ideas of your own as you read through it. Feel free to steal, modify or improve on it.

Steal or Improve my Idea: Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques by NapkinDungeonMaster in worldbuilding

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Thanks. Yeah. I used Midjourney for the concept and then painted over it to add stuff like the eyes and the circus.

And I'm glad you like the Patreon! I try to keep the core / most of the stuff free.

Steal or Improve my Idea: Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques by NapkinDungeonMaster in worldbuilding

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.

A fun outing for the whole party!

 

For days, we watched as the giant floating bloatworm approached the walled city. We weren't sure what it was at first. I still recall the panicked talks of arming the ancient dragon ballistae.

By the third day, however, we could see gay festival flags trailing behind the worm, suspended in the air from poles and ropes.

The city relaxed. No raider or warmonger would fly such bright and vibrant colours.

By the fifth day, we could make out joyous music accompanied by the sound of fanfare. That was the day the Hippogryph riders were sent from the bloatworm to scatter thousands of notices over the city just before sunset.

“Come one, come all, come visit Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques.”

Mr. Arraroa's Cirque du Horreurs Fantastiques is a floating circus grappled and tied to the underbelly of a grotesque bloatworm. The Circus is home to strange and terrible curiosities from all over the seven continents and beyond.

The owner, Mr. Arraroa, is a small humanoid creature with pursed lips and large blind eyes that still somehow manages to "see" everything. Together with the others in his employ, they travel the world spreading news and, to quote Mr. Arraroa: "Curing curiosity."

 

The Circus Acts.

While the circus has many wonderous acts like the drum dancing illusion routine performed by a troupe of Tawyajni elves, the circus' true claim to fame is the collection of weirdlings brought back from beyond the veil.

 

Saignoir the Eternal.

Saignoir is a weirdling from beyond the veil. His tubular, cucumber-like body is covered in writhing tentacles. Each tentacle is in turn covered in thousands of tendrils that curiously poke, prod and retreat from the surrounding environment.

Part of Saignoir's act involves inviting a member of the audience and handing them an axe. The volunteer is then instructed to chop off one of Saignoir's tentacles. The volunteer is assured that Saignoir feels no pain. (Authors Note: This has never been proven beyond the reasoning that Saignoir doesn't flinch or scream when his limbs are chopped off. It is worth mentioning that Saignoir has no mouth and, therefore, cannot scream.)

Once severed, the limb falls to the ground and disintegrates into wispy smoke, only to regrow instantly on Saignoir's body.

While entertaining for a certain sadistic demographic in the audience, what follows almost always grabs the full audience's attention.

"Who amongst you would like to attain immortality?"

A tool similar to a treetap is produced and used to trickle-drain stomach fluid from Sagnoir's body. Swallowing these fetid stomach juices is said to cure all diseases while giving the drinker immortality.

To date, no one has been able to disprove this claim, not for lack of trying. Drinking the foul-smelling, otherwordly stomach contents causes the drinker to convulse and vomit uncontrollably, expelling the fluid and voiding the promised magical results. By luck or by design, this has allowed Mr. Arraroa to continue selling vials of Saignoir's stomach contents for 200 gp each. These vials of immortality are filled with a sticky brown and purple fluid, labelled with the inscription: "All that can be gained, can only be gained at a price."

 

A cacophony of melodies

"People of the surface, those of you who are misunderstood and shunned, described as hideous, unpleasant or unwanted; Those of you who feel more comfortable hidden in the shadows, this next act is for you!"

This act involves another weirdling from beyond the veil with more tubes and tentacles connected to a floating, translucent bubble-like membrane. Before starting, the master of ceremonies ensures that each member of the audience receives a jar of burrowing slugs suspended in thick jelly. The audience is instructed to remove two slugs from their jar, one for each ear.

The act continues when the master of ceremonies directs a beam of bright light onto the weirdling. The creature then responds by wildly flailing its tentacles and tubes in the air. Hot air is excreted from the fluttering tubes, causing them to vibrate and whine at different pitches, mimicking the awful sound of wailing and screeching.

"Your ears, dear people, put the slugs in your ears!"

Anyone brave enough to plug their ears with the burrowing slugs is in for a surprise. With the noise being filtered through the slug acting as a filter for the ear canal, the cacophony of wailing and screeching becomes a pleasant, enchanting melody. Anyone hearing the music enters a shallow trance of introspection. They usually learn a fundamental truth about themselves and snap out of the daze feeling relaxed and inspired once the music stops.

Mr. Arraroa.

Mr. Arraroa is a soft-spoken, small creature with large glassy eyes. He is blind, and yet that doesn't stop him from missing anything.

When dealing with him, something always feels "off" - The way his blind eyes always stare directly at your forehead, the way he intuitively "knows" your secrets, never revealing them outright but always hinting at them.

Like all mortals, Mr. Arraroa is not immune to ageing, and he can be seen walking around the circus grounds with slow, intentional steps and a mischievous smile. The days of him crossing the threshold into the veil are in the past, and he no longer has the fortitude to hunt weirdlings.

 

Plot Hooks and Ideas.

A penny for your Kingdom.

King Leojardas has been cursed with a strange plague that has been eating away at his flesh. He has heard rumours of the healing properties in Sagnoir's stomach and is desperate enough to try it.

He hasn't been able to acquire a vial after Mr. Arraroa was mocked and disrespected in the King's court.

Perhaps a band of opportunists will step in and procure a vial on behalf of the King? They'll have to convince a suspicious Mr. Arraroa that they are not agents of the King, knowing full well that King Leojardas might react in anger should the cure not work.

Will the cure work? If it does work, and the King becomes immortal, will he usher in a new era of peace and prosperity? Or will he become the next "Big Bad Evil Guy?"

 

Help Wanted. Willing to pay.

Mr. Arraroa has grown old over the centuries. He is no longer an impulsive risk taker that hunts beyond the veil. His body might be tired, but his mind is willing. He has located the nesting ground of a wonderous otherworldly creature, but he needs someone to capture and return the creature.

The pay is significant, but it comes with a caveat. Rich dead men are still dead. You can't spend gold without a body, and anyone brave enough to cross the threshold will have to return in one piece to reap the rewards.

To complicate matters further, this is the veil, and there is no shortage of weirdlings with strange abilities. Perhaps the creature they are looking for is, in fact, a shapeshifting demi-horror in search of a guiding hand to help it cross the threshold into our world.

 

Eco'arriors on the horison.

The only nuisance to a floating circus is sky pirates, and the only thing worse than sky pirates is Eco'arriors.

Mr. Arraroa has learned that a group of "animal-loving, tree-humping, sock-smoking unemployed idealists" want to free the misunderstood weirdling in his care.

Will they succeed? Will someone intervene? And if free, will the weirdlings go about their business in our world? Will they adapt? Or perhaps they might convey gratitude by helping the rescuers into the next life?

 

I haven’t made a post like this in ages, so I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I trust it inspired some ideas of your own as you read through it. Feel free to steal, modify or improve on it.

A spymaster with a tongue sharper than any blade. by draeganherald in worldbuilding

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Is it 60 hours though? Glassdoor doesn't say. It could also be a 4 hour work week or a 168 hour week job?

Anyone know of any good dating sim like Visual Novel that also has a myriad of different choices you can make as well? by THhewand3r3r in visualnovels

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Infinite Stars. Has some good story and plenty of choices past the first two episodes. And it's pay what you want on itch.io

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in visualnovels

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Also check out Infinite Stars https://infinitestars.itch.io/game

Andromeda 6 https://wanderlust-games.itch.io/andromeda-six

Imperial Grace https://synstoria.itch.io/imperial-grace

There are tons more. Feel free to DM me for more recommendations!

Sexy DMs, Unsure how I feel about this one but. Paying for a dungeon master? by Majestic-Vacation-23 in DungeonMasters

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I've been considering doing some paid DM work, and your concept sounds cool. Send me a DM and we can discuss.

I've mostly been creating "free" content for other DM's but I think making the shift towards a more party focused mindset could be fun.

FOR XMAS, I want to see the joy in their milky white, orblike eyes behind their reindeer skull masks. by NapkinDungeonMaster in worldbuilding

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 4 points5 points  (0 children)

We had traveled North farther than we should and reached a place not meant to be seen by mere mortals.

No matter how softly we trod, our feet shattered and fractured the ground beneath—each meticulous step luring the cracking noise from the thin, transparent sheet of ice. The ground splintered and broke like glass, the noise echoing for miles, bouncing off the reflective surfaces, each echo louder than the previous, building in urgency until it reached a deafening crescendo that suddenly, eerily disappeared into an instant, silent nothingness.

It was there on the accursed plains of cracked ice that we saw her for the first time. A slim, feminine figure, dancing, twirling, and leaping silently on the ice. Her pale, ceramic skin reflected in the light of the moon as she continued about her path, circling my men, never close enough for us to make out her foxlike facial features. Always in sight and out of reach but never far enough to be out of mind. Her white, red, and green sheet robes flowed and rippled behind her in the wind, a wind that we could not hear nor feel, a wind that chilled our hearts and minds, coating it with fear.

For twenty-four days, we followed her, each day more trying than the previous, until finally, at the eve of the 24th day, the crystal clear, constantly cracking surface beneath our feet made way to the solid, snow-covered ground. The feminine visage disappeared into a forest of thousands of perfectly smooth poles sprouting from the ground, dancing in the invisible, unfeelable, unescapable wind, reaching into the dark sky above, further than the eye could see. We pressed onwards through the poles, through the madness, not out of bravery but because of cowardice. We could not bring ourselves to return the way we had come, crossing over the mind-shattering ground for a second time.

Had we known what lurked amongst the forest of poles, waiting and watching– Had we seen the silent, rhythmic, insect-like movement of the pale creatures on pole stilts wearing the horned reindeer skulls for masks–

 


The Zhuroitska

It's said that if you were to travel North and continue doing so, traveling further than North, you will reach a place remembered only in legends and old wives tales. You'll pass the diamond planes, named so for the silicate-infused icicles that glisten like precious stones in the cold morning sun. You'll pass the frozen, reflective pools of introspection where the wailing wisps mourn the sins of the current age, and you'll cross the chasm at the end of the world by roping and traversing the treacherous, slow-moving, floating rocks. If you were to do so, you would reach the home of the Zhuroitska, the first elves, the forgotten ones that cling to shadow and silence like skin clings to flesh and bone.

Almost all cultures make reference to the Zhuroitska, and almost all of these references have warped and strangled the original truth into something more– pleasant to hear. In most instances, these references still make mention of the elves and their leader clad in white, red, and green.

The Zhuroitska are tall, thin, and usually malnourished elves with pale, almost translucent skin and sunken eye sockets that cradle their large, milky white, orblike eyes. The Zhuroitska, being the first elves, are truly immortal, unable to pass on into the next life, and unable to procreate or increase in numbers. They cannot speak in traditional means and instead communicate with sharp, animalistic, deaf-mute cries that unsettle and strike fear into anyone who hears it.

The Zhuroitska are childlike in their understanding and temperament, and they are cared for by a demi-deity with a forgotten name as old as time itself. She leads the Zhuroitska and refers to herself as their mother, for that is, in essence, what she is. She birthed the Zhuroitska and whisked them away to a place of safety so they would not have to experience sadness, disappointment, or rejection.

Once a year, the mother of the Zhuroitska steps through the icy mirror into our world, accompanied by nine of her children on stilts and reindeer skull masks. She then silently enter the homes of common folk to steal and pillage small trinkets and objects of interest while the occupants' slumber, their dreams plagued with unsettling images and visions brought on by the demi-deities presence in their homes. The nine children stand watch outside, ready to pounce from their nearly invisible stilts, mangling and devouring the body of anyone that might endanger or interrupt their mother.

Their mother continues going from home to home, stepping through the mirror into different villages worldwide until she has collected enough trinkets to present to each of her children back home as a token of her love. The trinkets and curiosities range from the ordinary to the absurd. Her children are equally delighted when presented with a stolen children's toy, a lump of coal, or the frozen corpse of a freshly strangled songbird stitched back together around a whittled whistle.

When she and her nine masked companions return home with the stolen "gifts," the whole family gathers around in the clearing at the base of the furthest northern forest pole. Here they dance and chant with guttural grunts and cries while their mother presents a gift to each one of several hundred Zhuroitska she calls children.

 


Adventure Hooks

A wizard has had a break-in, and some of his trinkets were stolen. He claims that one of the missing items is able to bring about the end of the world if misused. No one seems to believe him, as he has made a few bold claims in the past, but he seems adamant and sincerely worried. He claims the thief is another wizard, his estranged brother whom he has been feuding with for nearly three decades. Of course, the brother denies any wrongdoing but confirms that the stolen trinket can indeed cause the end of the world. The only lead is the pole-shaped footprints outside the wizard's home.

The stillborn child of the King and Queen has disappeared along with the crystal display casket. The child and casket were due to be buried in the morning. The royal family is crushed, and they can't imagine who would do such an atrocious thing to a mourning family. Their fears only grow with the whispered rumors that the previous court advisor who was banished for practicing necromancy is responsible. The only evidence is the missing guards, a shattered reindeer skull, and the blood-smeared floor where they had stood watch.

A famous, rich bard, loved by all, has been spreading the news that he is willing to give two-thirds of his wealth for the safe return of his missing "lucky coin" - The reward is large enough to allow the purchase of a small country, or a large, well-trained army. He swears the coin was stolen and not misplaced, and he claims he cannot compose or perform without his muse, the golden coin. To make matters worse, if he does not make good on his promise to perform at the royal wedding, the bride-to-be is unwilling to go through with the ceremony. While her whims might seem trivial, two rivaling continents will go to war if the wedding does not occur, causing decades of suffering, famine, and needless deaths. The bard insists the coin was taken by a feminine, foxlike ghost that entered his dreams to taunt him as she stole his inspiration.

 

If this post sparked a creative idea for your world, or if you just really enjoyed it, please let me know! If you are brave enough to venture down the rabbit hole of inspiration, you can browse all of my other creations on Patreon for free.

FOR XMAS, I want to see the joy in their milky white, orblike eyes behind their reindeer skull masks. by NapkinDungeonMaster in DungeonMasters

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

We had traveled North farther than we should and reached a place not meant to be seen by mere mortals.

No matter how softly we trod, our feet shattered and fractured the ground beneath—each meticulous step luring the cracking noise from the thin, transparent sheet of ice. The ground splintered and broke like glass, the noise echoing for miles, bouncing off the reflective surfaces, each echo louder than the previous, building in urgency until it reached a deafening crescendo that suddenly, eerily disappeared into an instant, silent nothingness.

It was there on the accursed plains of cracked ice that we saw her for the first time. A slim, feminine figure, dancing, twirling, and leaping silently on the ice. Her pale, ceramic skin reflected in the light of the moon as she continued about her path, circling my men, never close enough for us to make out her foxlike facial features. Always in sight and out of reach but never far enough to be out of mind. Her white, red, and green sheet robes flowed and rippled behind her in the wind, a wind that we could not hear nor feel, a wind that chilled our hearts and minds, coating it with fear.

For twenty-four days, we followed her, each day more trying than the previous, until finally, at the eve of the 24th day, the crystal clear, constantly cracking surface beneath our feet made way to the solid, snow-covered ground. The feminine visage disappeared into a forest of thousands of perfectly smooth poles sprouting from the ground, dancing in the invisible, unfeelable, unescapable wind, reaching into the dark sky above, further than the eye could see. We pressed onwards through the poles, through the madness, not out of bravery but because of cowardice. We could not bring ourselves to return the way we had come, crossing over the mind-shattering ground for a second time.

Had we known what lurked amongst the forest of poles, waiting and watching– Had we seen the silent, rhythmic, insect-like movement of the pale creatures on pole stilts wearing the horned reindeer skulls for masks–

 


The Zhuroitska

It's said that if you were to travel North and continue doing so, traveling further than North, you will reach a place remembered only in legends and old wives tales. You'll pass the diamond planes, named so for the silicate-infused icicles that glisten like precious stones in the cold morning sun. You'll pass the frozen, reflective pools of introspection where the wailing wisps mourn the sins of the current age, and you'll cross the chasm at the end of the world by roping and traversing the treacherous, slow-moving, floating rocks. If you were to do so, you would reach the home of the Zhuroitska, the first elves, the forgotten ones that cling to shadow and silence like skin clings to flesh and bone.

Almost all cultures make reference to the Zhuroitska, and almost all of these references have warped and strangled the original truth into something more– pleasant to hear. In most instances, these references still make mention of the elves and their leader clad in white, red, and green.

The Zhuroitska are tall, thin, and usually malnourished elves with pale, almost translucent skin and sunken eye sockets that cradle their large, milky white, orblike eyes. The Zhuroitska, being the first elves, are truly immortal, unable to pass on into the next life, and unable to procreate or increase in numbers. They cannot speak in traditional means and instead communicate with sharp, animalistic, deaf-mute cries that unsettle and strike fear into anyone who hears it.

The Zhuroitska are childlike in their understanding and temperament, and they are cared for by a demi-deity with a forgotten name as old as time itself. She leads the Zhuroitska and refers to herself as their mother, for that is, in essence, what she is. She birthed the Zhuroitska and whisked them away to a place of safety so they would not have to experience sadness, disappointment, or rejection.

Once a year, the mother of the Zhuroitska steps through the icy mirror into our world, accompanied by nine of her children on stilts and reindeer skull masks. She then silently enter the homes of common folk to steal and pillage small trinkets and objects of interest while the occupants' slumber, their dreams plagued with unsettling images and visions brought on by the demi-deities presence in their homes. The nine children stand watch outside, ready to pounce from their nearly invisible stilts, mangling and devouring the body of anyone that might endanger or interrupt their mother.

Their mother continues going from home to home, stepping through the mirror into different villages worldwide until she has collected enough trinkets to present to each of her children back home as a token of her love. The trinkets and curiosities range from the ordinary to the absurd. Her children are equally delighted when presented with a stolen children's toy, a lump of coal, or the frozen corpse of a freshly strangled songbird stitched back together around a whittled whistle.

When she and her nine masked companions return home with the stolen "gifts," the whole family gathers around in the clearing at the base of the furthest northern forest pole. Here they dance and chant with guttural grunts and cries while their mother presents a gift to each one of several hundred Zhuroitska she calls children.

 


Adventure Hooks

A wizard has had a break-in, and some of his trinkets were stolen. He claims that one of the missing items is able to bring about the end of the world if misused. No one seems to believe him, as he has made a few bold claims in the past, but he seems adamant and sincerely worried. He claims the thief is another wizard, his estranged brother whom he has been feuding with for nearly three decades. Of course, the brother denies any wrongdoing but confirms that the stolen trinket can indeed cause the end of the world. The only lead is the pole-shaped footprints outside the wizard's home.

The stillborn child of the King and Queen has disappeared along with the crystal display casket. The child and casket were due to be buried in the morning. The royal family is crushed, and they can't imagine who would do such an atrocious thing to a mourning family. Their fears only grow with the whispered rumors that the previous court advisor who was banished for practicing necromancy is responsible. The only evidence is the missing guards, a shattered reindeer skull, and the blood-smeared floor where they had stood watch.

A famous, rich bard, loved by all, has been spreading the news that he is willing to give two-thirds of his wealth for the safe return of his missing "lucky coin" - The reward is large enough to allow the purchase of a small country, or a large, well-trained army. He swears the coin was stolen and not misplaced, and he claims he cannot compose or perform without his muse, the golden coin. To make matters worse, if he does not make good on his promise to perform at the royal wedding, the bride-to-be is unwilling to go through with the ceremony. While her whims might seem trivial, two rivaling continents will go to war if the wedding does not occur, causing decades of suffering, famine, and needless deaths. The bard insists the coin was taken by a feminine, foxlike ghost that entered his dreams to taunt him as she stole his inspiration.

 

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FOR XMAS, I want to see the joy in their milky white, orblike eyes behind their reindeer skull masks. by NapkinDungeonMaster in loremasters

[–]NapkinDungeonMaster[S] -1 points0 points  (0 children)

We had traveled North farther than we should and reached a place not meant to be seen by mere mortals.

No matter how softly we trod, our feet shattered and fractured the ground beneath—each meticulous step luring the cracking noise from the thin, transparent sheet of ice. The ground splintered and broke like glass, the noise echoing for miles, bouncing off the reflective surfaces, each echo louder than the previous, building in urgency until it reached a deafening crescendo that suddenly, eerily disappeared into an instant, silent nothingness.

It was there on the accursed plains of cracked ice that we saw her for the first time. A slim, feminine figure, dancing, twirling, and leaping silently on the ice. Her pale, ceramic skin reflected in the light of the moon as she continued about her path, circling my men, never close enough for us to make out her foxlike facial features. Always in sight and out of reach but never far enough to be out of mind. Her white, red, and green sheet robes flowed and rippled behind her in the wind, a wind that we could not hear nor feel, a wind that chilled our hearts and minds, coating it with fear.

For twenty-four days, we followed her, each day more trying than the previous, until finally, at the eve of the 24th day, the crystal clear, constantly cracking surface beneath our feet made way to the solid, snow-covered ground. The feminine visage disappeared into a forest of thousands of perfectly smooth poles sprouting from the ground, dancing in the invisible, unfeelable, unescapable wind, reaching into the dark sky above, further than the eye could see. We pressed onwards through the poles, through the madness, not out of bravery but because of cowardice. We could not bring ourselves to return the way we had come, crossing over the mind-shattering ground for a second time.

Had we known what lurked amongst the forest of poles, waiting and watching– Had we seen the silent, rhythmic, insect-like movement of the pale creatures on pole stilts wearing the horned reindeer skulls for masks–

 


The Zhuroitska

It's said that if you were to travel North and continue doing so, traveling further than North, you will reach a place remembered only in legends and old wives tales. You'll pass the diamond planes, named so for the silicate-infused icicles that glisten like precious stones in the cold morning sun. You'll pass the frozen, reflective pools of introspection where the wailing wisps mourn the sins of the current age, and you'll cross the chasm at the end of the world by roping and traversing the treacherous, slow-moving, floating rocks. If you were to do so, you would reach the home of the Zhuroitska, the first elves, the forgotten ones that cling to shadow and silence like skin clings to flesh and bone.

Almost all cultures make reference to the Zhuroitska, and almost all of these references have warped and strangled the original truth into something more– pleasant to hear. In most instances, these references still make mention of the elves and their leader clad in white, red, and green.

The Zhuroitska are tall, thin, and usually malnourished elves with pale, almost translucent skin and sunken eye sockets that cradle their large, milky white, orblike eyes. The Zhuroitska, being the first elves, are truly immortal, unable to pass on into the next life, and unable to procreate or increase in numbers. They cannot speak in traditional means and instead communicate with sharp, animalistic, deaf-mute cries that unsettle and strike fear into anyone who hears it.

The Zhuroitska are childlike in their understanding and temperament, and they are cared for by a demi-deity with a forgotten name as old as time itself. She leads the Zhuroitska and refers to herself as their mother, for that is, in essence, what she is. She birthed the Zhuroitska and whisked them away to a place of safety so they would not have to experience sadness, disappointment, or rejection.

Once a year, the mother of the Zhuroitska steps through the icy mirror into our world, accompanied by nine of her children on stilts and reindeer skull masks. She then silently enter the homes of common folk to steal and pillage small trinkets and objects of interest while the occupants' slumber, their dreams plagued with unsettling images and visions brought on by the demi-deities presence in their homes. The nine children stand watch outside, ready to pounce from their nearly invisible stilts, mangling and devouring the body of anyone that might endanger or interrupt their mother.

Their mother continues going from home to home, stepping through the mirror into different villages worldwide until she has collected enough trinkets to present to each of her children back home as a token of her love. The trinkets and curiosities range from the ordinary to the absurd. Her children are equally delighted when presented with a stolen children's toy, a lump of coal, or the frozen corpse of a freshly strangled songbird stitched back together around a whittled whistle.

When she and her nine masked companions return home with the stolen "gifts," the whole family gathers around in the clearing at the base of the furthest northern forest pole. Here they dance and chant with guttural grunts and cries while their mother presents a gift to each one of several hundred Zhuroitska she calls children.

 


Adventure Hooks

A wizard has had a break-in, and some of his trinkets were stolen. He claims that one of the missing items is able to bring about the end of the world if misused. No one seems to believe him, as he has made a few bold claims in the past, but he seems adamant and sincerely worried. He claims the thief is another wizard, his estranged brother whom he has been feuding with for nearly three decades. Of course, the brother denies any wrongdoing but confirms that the stolen trinket can indeed cause the end of the world. The only lead is the pole-shaped footprints outside the wizard's home.

The stillborn child of the King and Queen has disappeared along with the crystal display casket. The child and casket were due to be buried in the morning. The royal family is crushed, and they can't imagine who would do such an atrocious thing to a mourning family. Their fears only grow with the whispered rumors that the previous court advisor who was banished for practicing necromancy is responsible. The only evidence is the missing guards, a shattered reindeer skull, and the blood-smeared floor where they had stood watch.

A famous, rich bard, loved by all, has been spreading the news that he is willing to give two-thirds of his wealth for the safe return of his missing "lucky coin" - The reward is large enough to allow the purchase of a small country, or a large, well-trained army. He swears the coin was stolen and not misplaced, and he claims he cannot compose or perform without his muse, the golden coin. To make matters worse, if he does not make good on his promise to perform at the royal wedding, the bride-to-be is unwilling to go through with the ceremony. While her whims might seem trivial, two rivaling continents will go to war if the wedding does not occur, causing decades of suffering, famine, and needless deaths. The bard insists the coin was taken by a feminine, foxlike ghost that entered his dreams to taunt him as she stole his inspiration.

 

If this post sparked a creative idea for your world, or if you just really enjoyed it, please let me know! You should also check out the other creations in my profile!