DM-Nastics #86: Something Old, Something New

4. EGOTISTICAL HALF-ORC CLERIC FROM AN UNDERGROUND CITY WHO BELIEVES IN AN EYE FOR AN EYE (NPC called Grek)

13. FAITHFUL HALF-ORC PALADIN FROM A PEACEFUL COASTAL TOWN WHO ALWAYS WANTED TO LEARN MAGIC BUT STRUGGLED WITH IT (PC called Nathaniel)


Nathaniel left his peaceful town per instructions of his old teacher. Nathaniel wanted to learn how to further his skills in the divine magics, but his teacher, Paladin Marcus, lacked the skills in order to teach him. So Marcus sent him to study under his long time friend and fellow devoted follower of Iranre, Grek the Shepard. Iranre is the god of harmony and calls his followers to help keep and maintain that peace in all things. So it was very shocking to Nathaniel when he found his new teacher in the dwarven city of Karthog, rendering a dwarf blind in a makeshift court in the middle of a temple to Iranre.

Nathaniel was a gentle boy. He was brought into this world as a result of an orcish raiding parties attack on his town, leaving his mother, amongst other woman, laden with child. His mother died months after his birth because of complications. Being the cause of the so much harm to his mother, Nathaniel had only found some semblance of peace in Paladin Marcus's teachings of Iranre. However, this brute of a cleric showed none of the kindness or serenity Paladin Marcus had taught him. Why in the world did Paladin Marcus regard this....thug so highly?

Grek on the other hand was similarly disgusted at what he saw. His friend had once again sent him some flower minded, holy then thou, idealistic youth. And he had wanted him to teach this boy how to use Iranre's divine arts! Fine, if Marcus wanted him to shatter some poor kids disillusions he would do it dammit. For Grek new what it truly meant to hold true to Iranre's words. Harmony and peace aren't things that happen by pushing down ones emotions and experiences. Those things happen by facing your problems head on, addressing them, and making things right and equal. Grek pitied those short sighted fools he called his peers from his acolyte days. It wasn't like the concept was hard, as even his thick skulled dwarven flock seemed to get the message. It was a good thing Marcus understood his superior insight into Iranre's will, even though his friend still clung to the lesser points of Iranre's words.

The pairs first meeting was less than cordial, as Nathaniel was outraged at the "desecration" and perverted use of a temple to Iranre. Grek was quite mad at the fact Nathaniel had insulted him and his temple with his slanderous words. Especially since it was Nathaniel who was coming to HIM for guidance in his "failings". Only staying because of Paladin Marcus's words, Nathaniel apologized and set to work under Grek the Shepard. The following months were hard, as Grek stripped Nathaniel of his armor and forced him to do grueling and humiliating menial tasks. Nathaniel took it all, keeping his inner peace and focus on why he was here in the first place. Four months of this, and with hardly a peep from the boy, Grek called him into his office. He told Nathaniel that after long consideration and correspondence with Paladin Marcus, he would train him in the magical arts. Nathaniel stood in front of the cleric dumbfounded, what had he been doing the past 4 months laboring away under him? Grek informed him it was his apology for insulting one of the most devote clerics of Iranre. With a grit of his teeth, a deep breathe, and relaxing motion, Nathaniel replied with thanks and asked when they would start.

Now Grek wasn't expecting this, normally this is when they would crack, and then he could begin teaching. But this boy took it in stride, he held a determination in his eyes. Something deeper had scarred him, and that wound had crusted over many times over. Grek could see it now in this boys eyes. He was carrying something within him, and he had to find out what if he wanted to teach him anything. So to begin his instruction, Nathaniel and Shepard Grek set out into the world.

Along the way Grek would continually try and teach Nathaniel the "correct" teachings of Iranre. Just because Iranre teaches harmony and peace, doesn't mean we suppress our feelings. Suppressing them only makes them fester in the long run, creating imbalance and turmoil. Only true harmony can be achieved through balanced, and balance achieved through action served in kind with an action. Violence per violence, kindness per kindness, punishment per punishment, reward for reward. And so they went, with Grek trying to drill these things into his students head, all the while Nathaniel stubbornly holding on to his old teachings, and continuing to struggle with his magic lessons.

Eventually Grek happens upon Nathaniel's lineage, and is convinced in order to get over his magical stumblings, he must hunt down his Orc father and kill him.

Been listening for a while- first time to the forums- love the podcast!  Apologies for a novel on my first go, but the mind goes where it goes.

2. FRIENDLY HALFLING WARLOCK FROM A DESERTED ISLAND WHO IS WRITING AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY

6. GENTLE DRAGONBORN WARLOCK FROM A WEALTHY VINEYARD WHO IS DEALING WITH A MIDLIFE CRISIS

Alshion sipped the deep red wine from the goblet in his hand and then held it up to the light, looking deeply into its sanguine depths at the swirls of tannins gathering at the bottom of the glass. Deep red tinged with purple. Slight astringency in the tannins but a pleasing finish of mulberries and pipe smoke- a good vintage. He knew everything about the wines from this vineyard. Too much. All the magics the spirits of the earth bestowed on him put to no use other than the assurance of good harvests and healthy grapes. His whole life had been here and would be forever. The thought suddenly overwhelmed him. His breathing shallowed. His skin grew clammy and he shut his eyes as he felt the grape vines pressing in on him, tangling his feet, holding him fast in place, dooming him to repeat the same day over and over again. A small place pressing in on a small man.


“Are you alright, my friend?” Alshion, startled, looked towards the voice and down into the gray-whiskered, kindly face of an old halfling with a walking stick staring up at him. “Oh, I…yes, yes I’m fine,” Alshion replied and then quickly hid behind another a sip from his wineglass. “Merimac. Merimac Proudmead is my name,” the halfling said as he seated himself next to Alshion, “and I fear I saw the same look in your eyes just now as I saw in my own not long ago.” “I am Alshion. Pleased to meet you Merimac, but I doubt there is much in common between you and me,” answered Alshion. “Oh, well allow me to doubt your doubting. What you are looking for is a change from the tedium of your life. What you are wanting is an adventure,” replied Merimac, as he gestured wide at the world with his arms as if he offered it to Alshion.

Alshion’s eyes widened. This stranger had indeed named the desire newly written on his heart. Merimac continued, “You know I fancied I’d had an adventurous life. I spent my nights retelling my tales to simpler folk until I built the lore up into something quite heroic. I wove the stories so well that this year I convinced myself that the world needed a book of them.” “Here.” Merimac produced a thick leather volume and handed it to Alshion. “There is the fruit of my labor. My great autobiography,” Merimac stated somewhat bitterly. Alshion opened the cover and thumbed the pages. He counted only 20 or 30 that had been written on. “It’s mostly empty,” Alshion remarked, handing the volume back to Merimac. “Yes,” Merimac replied, “Empty as the life I tried to fill it with. I realized that all the great deeds of my life were but a drop in the bucket of my long years. What a sad autobiography I set out to write. And so, I have now pledged to only live days that are worthy of recording. That is why I traveled so far, to this place, to look on the peaceful dragonmen and their strange and beautiful vineyards! But I found more than that here. I found you, Alshion my friend! We are in need of the same thing you and I. I am old and you are aging, but there is life left in us still. Let us go out and live it! What do you say?”


Alshion looked deeply into his wineglass again, pulling his eyes up from its depths to his face reflected on the crimson surface. A portrait of a winemaker. No, he thought, a winemaker no more. Downing the remains of his wine, Alshion turned to Merimac and extended his hand, “On to adventure then and a life worthy of recording!” Grasping Alshion’s smooth scaled hand in his own tiny fist, Merimac beaming replied, “To adventures on the horizon my new friend! But more wine first, yes? No need to be hasty.”


PC/NPC- I see these two as PCs in their own story of course, but they would make fun NPCs for a party to interact with, I think, as another small adventuring team with their own quests and history.

Should have taken the time read the one above mine before posting. Way better.

In addition to math challenges I'm also super new and bad at posting mechanics...I meant to just implant the first part of that first post and then comment like I've seen others do. I have much to learn.

7. SELFISH GNOME PALADIN FROM A LOCAL STTREET GANG WHO HAS A HUGE DEBT TO PAY BACK (PC Francek)
10. TACTLESS HUMAN CLERIC FROM A YOUNG OFFENDERS INSTITUTE WHO HATES TO BE CLEAN (NPC Quentin)


Francek had problems. Everyone who knew him knew he had them. Drugs, gambling, hookers, you name it, Francek probably had his tiny gnomish nose in it at least once. He wanted to feel the thrill of life, to be "extreme". So he joined Scurra's Sons, local gang that was involved in most mischievous matters. Membership didn't come free though. Soon his funds would go dry and instead of fine establishments, he would spend the rest of his money on cheap fisstech.
One day, when he was lying on the ground, completely trashed, a cleric of Alveor, god of winds and freedom, found him. There was no hard decision to make. Just take him to the temple, tie him to a pillar and wait for him to wake up. And so he did.
When Francek came to his senses, he was hungover and he was mad. Why would a cleric to god of freedom tie anyone to a pillar? He spat on Quentin and on his faith. Quentin's reaction? He just slapped Francek left to right, right to left and than, without a word, he'd leave.
He came back an hour later and found Francek asleep. He took a bucket of water and poured it over his head and told him
"you are more free now in these binds than you were back there on the street. There are chains that bind the body and chains that bind the mind. Some people need to know imprisonment to appreciate freedom to the fullest. I'm actually doing you a service."
And than he left again.
Francek thought about what Quentin said, he had nothing better to do anyway. Quentin wouldn't come for a whole day.
Next morning, Quentin untied Francek and threw him out of the temple. And Francek felt free, it was the thrill he's been looking for, it was what he needed. He turned and went straight back to the temple, now by his free will and decided to take the oath of Goldwings order. To spread freedom to those who need it as he did.