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  • File : 1299698854.png-(769 KB, 1600x1200, 1275910125715.png)
    769 KB Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:27 No.14185204  
    In another thread someone started the idea of a fantasy setting or just a conglomeration of tragic, sad, pathetic, or depressing villains and encounters with tales so heart wrenching that players couldn't help but feel something for them. Please post more, the sadder the better. Here are a few:

    -A Mindflayer loses his kitty and is trying to lobotomize his prisoners so they'll be more catlike.
    -A hill giant stealing sheep because he likes petting soft things and they keep breaking in his embrace.
    -A Medusa that tends to the statue of her lover and talks to it endlessly and promises he'll get better and that they'll travel the world together some day.
    -A lich which had lived for too long, and is begging for the adventurers to smash his phylactery, as he is currently too frail to smash his own phylactery.
    -A room with a mirror and the statue of a woman. Upon closer inspection, she's actually a Medusa.
    -A child ghost wandering down the hallways; if asked, have her reply that her dog is a bad dog, and that's the end of it. On another room, have a werewolf who chained himself to the floor. He's crying, and upon closer inspection there's a piece of cloth similar to the girl's clothing between his teeth.
    -A room full of disarmed traps, the remnants of the previous party still evident near them. Maybe have one corpse whose legs are caught in a bear trap have their last will in its hands, hastily inscribed behind the map to the dungeon (not of the dungeon, mind you).
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:29 No.14185229
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    - A Spectre that only wants to hug its surviving family members, but doesn't understand that it has Energy Drain.
    - A friendly Beholder that likes to find friends to play "Peek-a-boo" with and can't figure out why people keep trying to kill it.
    - An Illithid that is using magical containers to preserve the minds of every brain it devours so it can have conversation partners.
    -A Fallen Angel who sacrificed her immortality to live with a human, only for him to die in a sudden accident shortly after. Trapped in a mortal body and unable to return to the Upper Planes she has begun to lose her sanity as she notices her body aging.
    -A great horrifying Dire Raptor sits at the front gate of a halfling village every day. If anyone asks, he's waiting for his master to return and watches the road for him from dawn until dusk. His master died in a war campaign years ago.
    -The PCs find an abandoned tower crumbling from age. Upon entering the top room they find it warmly lit by a cozy fire and a family relaxing together. The children, two little boys, are playing with toys and the youngest girl is sitting on her mother's lap by the fire. And sitting in an armchair next to them is a skeleton that the little girl repeatedly asks, "Daddy, can you tell me another story?". The entire room is a permanent persistent image of a family and inspection of the adjacent plot shows four graves, carefully tended to.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:30 No.14185241
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    -A forest is growing and choking the life out of everything around it. After braving the perils of the dark wood and its creatures the PCs find a little dryad crying upon a decaying and rotting tree. If the PCs ask her what she's doing, she says that mister sycamore wont wake up. She's doing the best she can, using all of her druidic magic, but he won't wake up.
    -A warforged is digging into a mountain endlessly to save his friends who have been trapped in a cave-in. People point out to him that it has been months now and they have undoubtedly starved or died of thirst by now if the initial cave-in didn't kill them all. The warforged ignores these comments and continues to dig with streams of oil dripping down his face. He WILL save them. He has to.
    -A peaceful vampire couple that want's to have a child of their own, but all of their children are still-born.
    -A cloaker that wants nothing more than to be worn by a fashionable gent and would never think of strangling anyone. No one believes him though.
    -A red dragon has worked for 200 years to make a treasure trove and keep it in an impenetrable fortress that none can break into or out of. Now he's really lonely and will gladly give treasure to anyone if they would only visit him and keep him company.
    >> Vance Astro !!+8+hhOY7kCX 03/09/11(Wed)14:32 No.14185256
    >-A Medusa that tends to the statue of her lover and talks to it endlessly and promises he'll get better and that they'll travel the world together some day.
    I think some dust got into my eye...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:33 No.14185267
    that was a terrible album.
    I prefer Cries of the Past to anything though.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:40 No.14185336
    >The PCs find an abandoned tower crumbling from age. Upon entering the top room they find it warmly lit by a cozy fire and a family relaxing together. The children, two little boys, are playing with toys and the youngest girl is sitting on her mother's lap by the fire. And sitting in an armchair next to them is a skeleton that the little girl repeatedly asks, "Daddy, can you tell me another story?". The entire room is a permanent persistent image of a family and inspection of the adjacent plot shows four graves, carefully tended to.

    many of these are sad, but that one got to me
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:40 No.14185339
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    >-The PCs find an abandoned tower crumbling from age. Upon entering the top room they find it warmly lit by a cozy fire and a family relaxing together. The children, two little boys, are playing with toys and the youngest girl is sitting on her mother's lap by the fire. And sitting in an armchair next to them is a skeleton that the little girl repeatedly asks, "Daddy, can you tell me another story?". The entire room is a permanent persistent image of a family and inspection of the adjacent plot shows four graves, carefully tended to.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:41 No.14185348
    A legendary dwarf warrior who stayed behind to guard the gate from the far realm to cover his allies' escape. He was prepared to die an honorable death at the hands of the endless hordes of aberrations while his friends closed the portal from the other side. But, against all odds, he defeated the hordes of the unnameable. Now he wanders all alone in the far realm, not even allowed to die a warrior's death.

    An elven father, desperate to save his daughter's life, makes a pact with a devil to trade his immortal soul if only the fiend will not let her die so young. After making the pact, the elf learns that his daughter is alive but lives in constant pain. She tries to end her own life but finds she cannot, unable to die.

    A sphinx toils away endlessly in every arcane library she can find. Her mother, who passed away when she was still young, never told her the answer to the family riddle. Unfortunately, no one else knows the answer either and all history of it seems lost as she is the last of her line.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:44 No.14185374

    God damn it... Reminds me of Nox...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:45 No.14185389
    Wait, so the persistent image was cast by the father/husband before he died, and now he lives on in undeath, tending to the graves? Why are their four graves then if the father's skeleton is in the room?

    I think I'm trying too hard here. Regardless, these are good, OP.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:46 No.14185399
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    >A warforged is digging into a mountain endlessly to save his friends who have been trapped in a cave-in. People point out to him that it has been months now and they have undoubtedly starved or died of thirst by now if the initial cave-in didn't kill them all. The warforged ignores these comments and continues to dig with streams of oil dripping down his face. He WILL save them. He has to.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:46 No.14185400

    2 boys, 1 girl, and their Mother
    4 graves.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:48 No.14185425
    Oh cool, I'm bad at reading. So the skeleton *is* reanimated.

    Shit, I wonder what my players would do about that kind of situation.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:49 No.14185431
    A group of wood elves approach the party to track down a red dragon who has been tearing down trees at the edge of their forest.
    Following the dragons trailing they find a massive circle of devastated lands, every tree, shrub or bush has been torn up.

    At the center they find the Red dragon carefully tending a large bonfire, his mates funeral pyre. He refuses to let it burn out and has been searching further and further for fuel to keep it going
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:50 No.14185438

    Powerful mage's family dies. He creates an illusion spell so that he can continue to be with them.

    He eventually dies himself, but the illusion persists.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:50 No.14185441
    Sounds kinda like Anghammarad to me. You failed your duty, so you'll endure until the universe dies and history repeats so you can do it right this time.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:51 No.14185449
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    A highly intricate and refined warforged rules a realm of intricate precision and harmony. No enemies, no plots, no faults.
    Everything runs with mechanistic timing.

    Its all worth the cost of mechanising them all! Surely purging all non-controllable factors down to the last child was correct?

    After all, my creator did ask of me to see to it that his realm would become a perfect one....
    >> MARK III 03/09/11(Wed)14:53 No.14185469
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    >>-A warforged is digging into a mountain endlessly to save his friends who have been trapped in a cave-in. People point out to him that it has been months now and they have undoubtedly starved or died of thirst by now if the initial cave-in didn't kill them all. The warforged ignores these comments and continues to dig with streams of oil dripping down his face. He WILL save them. He has to.

    Mitt anlete när!
    Feels BEEED MAN :'C
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)14:56 No.14185501
    >>Feels BAAAD man...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:00 No.14185540
    It's sad things like this that remind me that /tg/ actually does have a soul...

    When we are cut, we do bleed.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:05 No.14185603
    Interesting part about these stories is that they aren't standing for themselves... On their own, they are sad. But if you build them into a campaign, they can become heartwarming.
    I wish, I had a group. Some of these would have been an awesome addition to the campaign.
    I really want to know how the players would react.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:05 No.14185608
    A man begins research to bring back his family from the dead when such things are forbidden by the gods. They died during a raid while he was out of town and unable to save them. The quest for a ritual becomes long and he fears he will die of old age, so he becomes a Lich (with his wedding ring as his phylactery). After his body has long since withered and he is nothing but the shell of the man he once was he finally creates a ritual to successfully bring back the dead with their mind, soul, and body intact. He has tested the ritual and found it works successfully. But then he locks this secret away and himself with it so that he may mourn until the end of time. Because the most essential ingredient is blood shed willing by a loved one. And his veins have long since gone dry.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:06 No.14185614
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    The adventurers come across this scene.

    "Master, would you please give me new directions. Master. Please..."
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:06 No.14185619
    Man, mine suck.

    A nymph believes herself to be the ugliest creature in existence, because her beauty blinds whoever sees her. She spends her time making masks that she considers more beautiful than her face.

    An aboleth is born with a brain defect that allows him to feel loss and regret. With a billion-year memory, he makes a giant sculpture symbolizing everything in the world he has lost or regretted. He stopped long ago, not because he finished, but because the ocean wasn't big enough.

    An intelligent undead maintains the graffiti around his mausoleum. He believes that if someone, anyone, cares enough that he existed, that they will clean the graffiti and his life will not have been meaningless. Then, and not before, he believes he can pass on.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:07 No.14185632

    I know that I, for one, would throw down everything I had and help that warforged dig. We would dig together, side by side, and I would stop only to rest and eat. I would enlist every spare hand I could, and we would dig until we found those bodies. And then we would hold a funeral, and lay each of the to rest in the warm earth, where the sun would shine upon them once again.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:07 No.14185634
    >the most essential ingredient is blood shed willing by a loved one. And his veins have long since gone dry.

    I'm sad.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:08 No.14185644
    there is no image maro for how sad this is :C
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:11 No.14185674
    Any of these would grant my PC a purpose in life.
    Normally I play reactive characters, but this would actually change them. I would spare no expense to save these creatures.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:12 No.14185685
    Wow, I'm glad you guys liked that.

    These are pretty good, especially the nymph one. Such classic tragedy...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:14 No.14185709
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    I would help you.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:15 No.14185723
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    And my Axe!
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:18 No.14185755
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    my thinking behind it is obviously similar to tron legacy.

    But really, a warforged/programmed construct desperatly trying for something inattainable, unsure even what perfection truly is, probably slowly going insane as it realises it can't die or end itself, it HAS to keep trying.

    Despite its makers best intentions, they did not have the foresight to see the results of their efforts.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:19 No.14185766
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    You find a brain in a jar sitting on a shelf. He says his name is Bryan. He has lived here as long as he can remember, gently using his psionics to learn about the world around him by reading facts from the brains of passerby's. He says the world seems like such a beautiful place from what people tell him. What's love like? What does it feel like to see the color orange? He would like to know what it is to dance some day...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:20 No.14185777
    >A Medusa that tends to the statue of her lover and talks to it endlessly and promises he'll get better and that they'll travel the world together some day

    Oh fuck this one got me
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:21 No.14185783

    Interesting concept but how is it a pthetic/tragic villain?
    >> Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK 03/09/11(Wed)15:22 No.14185804
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    All of these can be solved by a wizard. It's quite boring.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:23 No.14185808
    It's not necessarily a villain, just a tragic encounter. It's like a blind, deaf, cripple that can never know the beauty of the world, the sound of music, or what it is walk and run and play. But from what people tell him it does sound awfully nice... It's just a shame he'll never be able to experience any of it...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:25 No.14185835
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    Somehow the false hopes of things that can never be are the saddest part.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:26 No.14185854

    Besides that Warforged I would dig. would my pick break I would use my hand and fingernails until they were naught but bloody stumps and still I would dig. We would not stop digging. Never stop. My body would fail, my throat run dry , my stomach hollow and my blood become dust upon old bones. But I would not stop, not until they are found or until we fall out of the underside of the earth. But By then they would be dead.

    I would dig into the very depths of Hell and bring them back to this world. And none would stop us, they would not dare.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:27 No.14185863
    And we shall call you... Simon.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:28 No.14185876
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    Taking it a weee bit too far there.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:30 No.14185897
    Yeah I'd probably just go get another pick, but whatever boats your float I guess?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:32 No.14185912
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    Thank you brother, but this task is mine and mine alone.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:35 No.14185947
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:36 No.14185961

    >-A Medusa that tends to the statue of her lover and talks to it endlessly and promises he'll get better and that they'll travel the world together some day.

    Damn. Monster or not, I don't think my paladin could bring himself to kill her after watching that scene.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:37 No.14185975
    this thread is sad
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:37 No.14185982
    I'd hammer through the mountain,and cremate them, then spread their ashes to the wind.

    The ground would never trap those men/women again. Not even in death.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:40 No.14186010
    A child lives in the sewers of town, her parents killed by a church inquisition when they were trying to find her. She comes out only during the night time and runs around alone to find something to eat, usually rats or other small animals eaten raw. During the day she watches her old friends play from the shadows. She wishes so dearly that she could play with them, but the sunlight hurts so much... And she always feels so cold.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:41 No.14186016
    I'd just be all "stand back eh lads?" as i load another HE grenade into my blooper.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:41 No.14186017
    Somebody should draw this, first a solitary adventurer joins the warforged, and as time goes by, more and more adventurers join them, until one day an entire army of adventurers breaks through the walls of hell inspired by the lone determined warforged.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:41 No.14186026
    Wow, that would be awesome.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:44 No.14186053

    But its retarded...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:46 No.14186078
    Are you an Asspie? Don't you feel the beauty of this situation?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:46 No.14186085
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    >this thread
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:46 No.14186086
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:47 No.14186087
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    This thread is going in a very different direction from what i intended... Oh well, that's /tg/.

    Guess everyone really felt bad for that warforged.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:47 No.14186089
    >-A hill giant stealing sheep because he likes petting soft things and they keep breaking in his embrace.
    I can see it, george! I can see-! ;_;

    >-A Medusa that tends to the statue of her lover and talks to it endlessly and promises he'll get better and that they'll travel the world together some day.
    Now I can't stop thinking about her backstory. She killed all the members in a caravan and discovered among their personal effects a letter from one of the deceased's betrothed. As a cruel joke, she wrote him a letter under the woman's name, a nasty breakup letter. To her surprise, he sent a letter in response, a moving, heartfelt, poetic plea for her heart. Originally, she just sought to toy with him some more, but something in that note resonated with her. Over the coming months, she wrote less and less as the other woman and put more of herself in it, and he still wrote sweet words to her. Eventually, she writes "I must confess, I haven't been honest about my name. My real name is..." When she received a reply forgiving the deception, addressed to *her* and not the woman she was pretending to be, she passed the point of no return. Somewhere along the line she became obsessed with the man. They had shared their dreams and aspirations, and mused about growing old together, without ever having truly met. She decides to fix that by inviting him to her lair, and in a moment of excitement and forgetfulness, comes to greet him in her true form, turning him to stone.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:48 No.14186095
    Guy's let's ignore the troll.

    And archive the thread.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:48 No.14186101
    I didn't even think that was the saddest one. But a lot of people have a special place in their heart for the metal men.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:49 No.14186111
    Well, it went from heartrending to heartwarming.
    Consider it skipping the "state the situation" part for the "the players resolve the situation" part.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:50 No.14186122
    A wizard, terrified of the prospect of dying, turns to necromancy. One by one, his friends and family desert him, appalled by his experiments, but he continues alone, knowing that they'll forgive him when he saves them from the stark terror of death. Eventually, he masters his art, and becomes undying. By this time, the friends and family he left behind have begun to die and those who still live won't listen. So one by one, he exhumes the bodies of those who've died, raising them as zombies which he carefully preserves. He's waiting for his son to die, so that they can live on together in acceptance and love.

    And his son has his own family: grandchildren and a daughter-in-law who he wants to spend quality time with. It can wait though. He has all the time in the world.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:50 No.14186123

    If it makes the people helping feel better and doesn't harm anyone else, why should you care? Just go off and do your own thing, we'll be doing what we believe in our hearts is right.

    Even if it looks retarded to you.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:50 No.14186127
    I'M SAD.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:51 No.14186132
    Jesus, I wish I can put some of these in my nWoD campaign. Especially the one with the persistent image.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:52 No.14186143

    That's less "sad" and more "really fucking creepy".
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:52 No.14186145

    It's because that's one we can fix. We can help that guy.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:53 No.14186150
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    Pfft, I made what I saw it as.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:53 No.14186153
    Can you cast baleful polymorph on just a brain?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:53 No.14186155
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    These are the some of the saddest one-liners I have ever read...

    >And /tg/'s heart grew three sizes that day.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:54 No.14186165

    Replace "Wizard" with "Mage" and you got it. Also, replace "Lich" with Necromancer/Thaumaturge and you could adapt some of them.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:54 No.14186174
    >-A lich which had lived for too long, and is begging for the adventurers to smash his phylactery, as he is currently too frail to smash his own phylactery.

    I can just picture how the PCs would come across him. They enter a deep part of the dungeon, and hear a repeated knocking. Knock, knock, knock, knock... As they grow closer, it grows louder. They ready their weapons. When they're almost at the source they hear a muttering.
    "It must break sooner or later. It must one day break, and I will be free... It will surely break..."
    They find him, curled up in an alcove, knocking the necklace against the stone. The lich's fingers have been ground to short nubs. Investigation shows that the alcove was carved by the lich's long, fruitless efforts.
    >cruel etsAk
    Yes, captcha, it is a rather cruel fate.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:54 No.14186177
    Imagine a campaign where the players see the Warforged mountain scenario pretty early on, and leave as more people go to help him. The campaign ends with the players making their way to the nine hells for a final battle with Asmodeus or something similar, and when all seems lost, the warforged with an army of commoners and adventurers bursts through the wall and starts ransacking the place looking for the Warforged's dead friends.

    Unable to defend itself from both parties, Hell is defeated and the day is won.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:57 No.14186212
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    But what about all of these others, in their pain and suffering? There are so many people that hurt and that cry out for comfort and absolution.

    We cannot help them all, but we can help this one. And that is a start my friends.

    But there is much pain in this world. And we can no longer allow ourselves to turn a blind eye to it's presence.

    Each soul we help find peace is another soul that can in turn help others to be at peace.

    And so our path is set, our quest begins, and our minds are made. We will make this world a better place, not by the sword or the axe, but by the spoken word, the hand, and the heart.

    Join me in this pursuit. There is nothing to lose, but much to be gained. Let us begin anew.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:57 No.14186217
    A living, indestructible weapon of immense power that has been used to kill so many and commit so many atrocities, all it wants is for someone to find some way to destroy it, but it was crafted so well the task is nearly impossible.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:59 No.14186234

    I think I would just kill it. The thing has lost grip on reality. It's existance is pitiful.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)15:59 No.14186238
    Maybe they did survive - rings of sustenance etc. They'd probably be at least half crazy after potentially years underground though.

    Maybe the Warforged gave them a gift on the day they were lost in the caves - a chess set made of the same matierial as his body so they could play together - and when he gets there, he find the surviving party members clustered around the worn down pieces chatting and perfectly fine. And then they just turn to him and say,

    "We knew you'd come".
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:00 No.14186239
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:00 No.14186240
    And so shall it be... We are the carewarriors.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:01 No.14186252

    That...that would be the greatest conclusion to a campaign EVER.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:01 No.14186257

    But find a better name.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:02 No.14186265
    The issue would be getting the players to leave the warforged.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:03 No.14186274

    I thought the idea of a man spending eternity pretending that all his friends and family didn't abandon him because of the madness he was pursuing was pretty sad. I mean, all he wanted was to not have to say goodbye to them all. Now he doesn't have to, at least in his mind.

    In reality he's a mad old man surrounded by walking corpses. In his mind, he's a jovial old grandfather surrounded by his loving family.

    But oh well.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:03 No.14186275

    Just kill it!


    Who cares about it and its delusions? Why are you so moved by this? WHY? WHY?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:04 No.14186293

    And now I'm thinking of a variant.
    The PCs come across a cave, lined with the typical medusa's victim statues, but in the back of the cave is a rather special statue. The PCs find letters. Love letters, to be exact, though at one point they change to diary pages. They eventually speak of going on a journey, then move to self-chastisement.
    "I'm such a fool... I cannot bear to leave him even to cure him, and I am not strong enough to carry him, either. I have no horse, no cart, and I dare not leave my lair to search for such things. Such a fool. Such a lovestruck fool."
    The statue? A medusa kissing a human deeply. The human looks frightened. The medusa's face shows both joy and sorrow. In one hand is a mirror.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:06 No.14186307
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    I feel no shame in saying that I am going to steal most if not all of these for my campaign.

    My thanks, kind OP and courteous posters. You have made my job a lot easier.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:06 No.14186311

    I'm in. The world's a sad and dark place.

    Let's fix that, shall we?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:06 No.14186318
    >A group of wood elves approach the party to track down a red dragon who has been tearing down trees at the edge of their forest.
    Following the dragons trailing they find a massive circle of devastated lands, every tree, shrub or bush has been torn up.

    >At the center they find the Red dragon carefully tending a large bonfire, his mates funeral pyre. He refuses to let it burn out and has been searching further and further for fuel to keep it going.

    Collect a load, and I mean a SHIT LOAD, of acorns and cast some sort of Rampant Growth style of spell on the area that the Dragon has plundered. Repeat as needed

    That fire will never go out and the Red Dragon can continue to honor the memory of his loved one for as long as he/she needs.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:09 No.14186347

    Because we are human.

    The warforged may not have a heart beating within its chest, but its spirit of determination and steadfast loyalty speaks of a soul stronger and purer than countless others who are flesh and blood.

    It resounds with a love that is decidedly human. We hear it and it moves us to follow. I am sincerely sorry that you are deaf to it.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:09 No.14186349
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    Picture is related. Picture is SO related.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:10 No.14186357
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    There ARE heroes left in man
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:10 No.14186358
    I think that would be an awesome story for a series or a videogame. Maybe even a book.
    But it would feeld kinda forced for a campaign.

    Well, who wants to start the writefaggotry?
    "Defectants of the GRIMDARK"
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:12 No.14186386
    We are here to propogate the GRIN-LARK!
    Grin-Larf? Laugh?

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:13 No.14186388
    I wish i had the eloquence to describe the images that your post put in my head. All i feel i can manage is

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:14 No.14186405

    I don't understand what you mean, its doing something pointless, surely? They would be dead, why not give up? Why?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:15 No.14186408
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    >-A forest is growing and choking the life out of everything around it. After braving the perils of the dark wood and its creatures the PCs find a little dryad crying upon a decaying and rotting tree. If the PCs ask her what she's doing, she says that mister sycamore wont wake up. She's doing the best she can, using all of her druidic magic, but he won't wake up.
    I really like this one for some reason...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:15 No.14186410
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    Never change, /tg/. You are the light in the dark.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:15 No.14186414

    "The darkness only makes our light shine brighter."

    This thread has pretty much turned into the epitome of Nobledark. The world sucks, but we aren't going to let it drag us down to its level. We are better than this, and through our compassion and determination, we will better the lives of those around us.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:16 No.14186424
    Well. Now I have to find a way to incorporate that into my campaign.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:18 No.14186445
    I'm thinking of a Chilean miners style campaign.
    Warforged can dig at x feet per day, adventurers will die in y days without help.
    You must find ways of keeping them alive long enough for a rescue
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:18 No.14186449
    To give up is to be beaten.
    To give up is betray the trust that the humans put into it when they called it 'Friend'
    To give up is a betrayal
    Though it may take a hundred years that poor bastard will not give up, simply because they are his friends.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:19 No.14186453
    It's threads like this that convince me there are good people left in the world, and that there is hope for mankind yet. I swear, /tg/ means alot more than just Traditional Games.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:21 No.14186470
    Well, now I want some writefaggotry about making WH40k a better place...
    But that would be very easy to turn into Mary Sue fare.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:22 No.14186474
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    I think I see.

    I would not kill it now. I would help it until we found its friends and freed them!
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:23 No.14186487
    This, gentleman, is what we call troll logic.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:26 No.14186507
    I think I have it figured out. /tg/ is the anti-/b/; the Internet Love Machine. When the pure souls of /tg/ outnumber the rampant amoral demons of /b/, the world can finally know peace- and the internet can be rebuilt into a beacon of hope and beauty.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:26 No.14186509
    so long as its got a large cast and beliveable reasons.
    Orks decide Tyranids are best thing to fight
    Necrons still chaos and maintain the borders of the warp and give up killing.
    DE & Eldar make up and try to find new unclaimed worlds.
    Tau stay in their corner and overthrow the etherals
    Humanity rediscovers science and reason and lets the emperor die.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:26 No.14186510
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    After you win and the world is safe and sound, this guy emerges from somewhere and licks at the BBEG's face.

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:27 No.14186522
    Well, it's a balance - If there's too much good, the forces of evil will be even more satisfied for corrupting it.
    If there's more evil, the forces of good feel tempted to clean it.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:29 No.14186544
    Then... Then it is /tg/'s place to cancel out the threat. Never to exceed it, but to keep it from harming mankind at large.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:30 No.14186559
    The Brightest Light Casts the Darkest Shadows.
    In Darkest Shadows, Light Grows Brightest.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:31 No.14186560
    Knowing your own limits is crucial. Concentrate on where you can do the most good, rather than blindly attacking the greatest evil.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:31 No.14186564
    And thus /tg/ finds out that it is Neutral.
    >> Writeanon 03/09/11(Wed)16:31 No.14186565

    "Three thousand years. Really, I must admire your persistence."

    "Three thousand two hundred and fifty-eight years, four months, eleven days, 12 hours, 20 minutes. Where are they?"

    "Who? Your 'friends'?"

    The King of the Dead threw his skeletal head back and laughed, a screeching roar that echoed into infinity, blotting out the cries of the damned. The metal construct was unpreturbed.

    "They're long gone by now, Warforged. My torturers are remarkably effective. Assuming I do let you serach for them- which won't happen- and assuming you do manage to find them among the trillions and trillions of damned souls here, their minds will be long gone. It really is hopeless."

    "Take them to me."

    "You're ordering around Death himself? You know, I might let you live, if only to reward you for your persistence."

    "Take them to me. Now. Failure to do so will result in consequences."

    "Are you threatening me, machine? You? Alone against death? What are you going to do? Dig a hole in me?"

    The construct shook its head, flakes of dirt drifting off its rusted plating.


    Then came a sound: one which had never before been heard in the land of the dead. A great rolling shout of joy, of anger, of passion, and of determination. The sound of thousands of warriors, peoples of all nations and races, their arms raised high in triumph. The King of the Dead recoiled in horror.

    "What? How? What have you done?!"

    The Warforged merely stared at him.

    "We've come for my friends. Take me to them, please.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:33 No.14186584
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:34 No.14186593
    keep writing, that fucker needs to pay
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:35 No.14186598
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:35 No.14186599
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:37 No.14186615



    Thank you.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:37 No.14186619
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    I love you /tg/. All of these are great, especially the warforged and brain-in-a-jar ones.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:37 No.14186625
    Long ago, a wizard turned to necromancy in order to live forever. His wife, heartbroken by his deafness to her pleas, leaves him. The wizard mourns but continues onwards anyway. The weeks turn to years, the years to decades, and the wizard is at death's door. In desperation, he becomes a lich and continues his research into immortality, hoping to resurrect himself once he has found it. One day, an intrepid paladin, like so many before him, enters the lich's lair. This is not new. The lich slays him quickly and, as is his custom, searches the body for scrolls, grimoires, and magical artifacts. What he finds is a journal. He begins to read it, and only stops when he comes to a section that reads: "Today, I enter the tomb of my tragic ancestor who fell into darkness. If only I can free his soul from its torment, I will have redeemed my family name."
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:38 No.14186636
    >A sphinx toils away endlessly in every arcane library she can find. Her mother, who passed away when she was still young, never told her the answer to the family riddle. Unfortunately, no one else knows the answer either and all history of it seems lost as she is the last of her line.

    this one resonates with me alot for some reason. i can only imagine the sense of loss, of futility, of unfufilment she must have throughout her long days.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:39 No.14186642
    Why would the miners necessarily be in hell? It would make more sense for them to pass through the Shadowdark, and from there into the great unknown. The Warforged would be more likely to seige the Shadowfell to reach the appropriate deity (depending on your edition of choice) and demand the retrieval of his friends from the nothingness of oblivion.

    But Hell is certainly more dramatic, so I'll just shut up now.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:39 No.14186647
    Thanks for your request.
    It has been added to our database and the thread will be archived as soon as enough request for that thread have been made.
    This thread has been requested 1 times now.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:40 No.14186661
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    oh god

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:41 No.14186674
    While only somewhat meaning to turn this into a thread swapping various hopeful songs, I would reccommend http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3I7pUHit2Zw
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:41 No.14186678
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:42 No.14186683
    How does one archive a thread?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:42 No.14186685
    I said Shadowdark. I meant Shadowfell.

    Those are different things.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:42 No.14186692

    Already been done
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:42 No.14186693
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    Fuck you, you glorious bastard.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:44 No.14186711

    put this on loop
    read thread
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:44 No.14186717
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:44 No.14186719
    Google Suptg. Click on Archive. Scroll to bottom. Fill out forms. Failure to fill out forms correctly is treason.

    Medication will be dispensed promptly.
    >> The Pole 03/09/11(Wed)16:44 No.14186720
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    how do we archive again?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:46 No.14186740

    i'd be crying like a bitch right now if years of internet abuse hadn't taken their toll, there is however a single tear building up in my right eye.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:46 No.14186742

    Repeat >>14186719
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:47 No.14186743
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:47 No.14186752

    I can't even begin to imagine how his mind would just snap at that...

    I don't think I want to.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:48 No.14186754
    Sounds like someone hasn't been showing up to their family reunions.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:48 No.14186757
    Suptg > 4chanarchive
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:51 No.14186776
    A quarter.

    A quarter of all people suffer from mental illness.
    That isn't a gaming statistic, that's just a fact. And this is a game filled with terrifying monsters and supernatural disasters. The mental tolls must be tremendous.
    >> Writeanon 03/09/11(Wed)16:51 No.14186783

    The skeletal figure stumbled back, an expression of uncomprehending shock on its leering face.

    "I- I don't understand! You were only one! You were alone! They knew you'd never be able to come for them! How? WH-"

    It stopped as an iron fist seized its bony neck. It struggled, flailing helplessly against the unstoppable force of the construct.

    "Take me to my friends."

    The cacophony of the dead was changing, as those who still had some sanity left in their corroded souls realized what was happening. The King of the Dead regained some measure of his composure, ceasing his struggle.

    "It's futile, you realize. How can this pathetic 'army' of yours stop the legions of hell? You are puny mortals, wandering across a world you can barely comprehend. And me? I am Death! Shatterer of Worlds! This ends here!"

    Summoning all of its unholy power, the King of the Dead smote the Warforged, leaving it a smoldering ruin. Or at least it tried to. The dark energies keened, recoiling from the construct's body like frightened children.

    "Impossible! Nothing is that strong! NOTHING!"

    The warforged seemed to sigh, its ancient head cocked to one side on corroded joints.

    "I have been digging for three thousand two hundred and fifty-eight years, four months, eleven days, 12 hours, 20 minutes. In that time I have seen 25 different kingdoms, belonging to five different species, rise and fall in the outside world."
    >> The Pole 03/09/11(Wed)16:56 No.14186819

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:57 No.14186828
    /tg/ is good. /b/ is evil. Good cancels out Evil so that the rest of the world, Neutral, can live in security.
    >> Writeanon 03/09/11(Wed)16:57 No.14186830
    "What's your point, machine?"

    "In all those kingdoms, in all those peoples, there was one constant, one infallible thing that remained, burning in the dark when all else had failed. Friendship."

    The King laughed again.

    "Friendship? Oh, please. You think idealism, and not brute stupidity, has got you here? You think friendship can kill Death himself?"

    "No. Only the Dead can kill Death. And we have reminded them what friendship is."

    Suddenly, the construct dropped the King, its voice rising to an impossibly loud cry, yet again blotting out the sounds of the underworld.

    " I will knock down the Gates of the Netherworld,
    I will smash the doorposts, and leave the doors flat down,
    and will let the dead go up to join the living!
    And the dead will outnumber the living!
    And the dead will be filled with anger!
    At the one who made them so!

    Dead silence. Then one last final earth-shaking roar, a boom of righteous anger, of memory for those long lost, of hope for a better future. The Dead rose. And in the land of the Dead, the Dead outnumbered their jailors. The King fled, gibbering, his cloaked form fading away into darkness. And the construct stood alone.

    It was four figures. Four familiar figures, and new that its task was complete. It knew that now it could rest. As the light faded from its eyes, it whispered a single word.

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:58 No.14186835
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    He has to become the new King of Death.

    He just has to.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)16:59 No.14186845
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:00 No.14186855
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:02 No.14186876
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:02 No.14186878
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:03 No.14186881
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:03 No.14186884

    >The Dead rose

    There. Right there. That is where the floodgates broke. I shed a single tear at the first part.
    This one has me bawling.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:03 No.14186887
    Optimus can suck it, this guy is my new robotic spiritual liege and messiah!
    Praise be mecha jesus!
    >> Anonymous Drunk 03/09/11(Wed)17:04 No.14186903
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    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:05 No.14186904
    I need more soul-crushingly sad story hooks.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:05 No.14186911
    Perhaps its late to add one more but I liked this idea and it made for the greatest cohort in a campaign of mine.

    There is an awakened (or incarnate) golem who is trapped in an abandoned wizard’s laboratory. His master, a venerable wizard whose last will was to grant intelligence and life into all of his creations; though while awakening the golem a mishap occurred and he died, buried under rubble. The golem awoke frightened and confused of his surroundings but carries vague memories of his former master. Though he is capable of independent thought he obeys his masters last command “defend the lab” believing if I do my job well enough the master will come and rescue me. He spends his time cleaning the lab and maintaining traps using everlasting rations to feed himself and the rats he keeps as pets. He dares not touch his masters experiments or treasures, including an unopened letter his a message for him, “you’re free now, enjoy the gift of life.”
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:08 No.14186934
    Got me.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:09 No.14186946
    Anyone know the name of the song that plays in that link?

    Wish I could come up with any stories as good as these. It occurs to me, though, that all these tragic figures are victims of obsession, naivete, or both, so maybe I'll try to riff on those themes in the future.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:09 No.14186953
    -In a world of perpetual daylight, a ghost is caught in the shadow of a colossal sundial. In circles in the dust it draws the story of its life, always returning to the start.
    -When the ice covering the Snow Witch's fortress melts, the walls are shown to be scratched into: "it's so cold it's so cold it's so cold ..."
    -The last you see of the water elemental is a face staring into the sky.
    -A paladin is cursed that each step he takes is but half as long as the last. He stands a pace from the lich's chamber, by now moving far too little to ever detect.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:12 No.14186978
    Whether vampire or ghoul, this poor child made me cry manly tears.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:15 No.14187007
    Got me bad shed a manly tear
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:15 No.14187008
    Welcome to the Alpha-Complex.
    >> Writeanon 03/09/11(Wed)17:16 No.14187019
    This thread is great and everyone in it should feel great.
    Oh god. Oh god oh god.

    Does anyone want anything else written? I'm all pumped now.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:19 No.14187046
    about the cold rat eating kid!

    >>Antife humanism,
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:19 No.14187048

    Please try your hand at the lich who realises he killed his descendent who was trying to save him.
    >> The Pole 03/09/11(Wed)17:20 No.14187051
    all the ones that keep reappearing like the medusa one and the child one, they're all good
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:25 No.14187090

    >-A paladin is cursed that each step he takes is but half as long as the last. He stands a pace from the lich's chamber, by now moving far too little to ever detect.

    Off topic, but that has reminded me that I wanted to include Zeno's paradoxes in a campaign.
    Thank you.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:26 No.14187097
    On winter nights, a beggar child comes by the local shops, asking for firewood. She always says that she is too poor to pay, that she is sorry to ask, but it is so, so cold. The shopkeepers always give her one small, specially prepared bundle of twigs each. They always say the same thing when she appears: "It's not much, but take it. Would that I had given it to you yesterday." On winter mornings at sunrise, the shopkeepers travel together to the cemetery. They all visit the same small, unmarked grave to pick up their bundles and ready themselves for the night, over and over again.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:26 No.14187101
    >-A forest is growing and choking the life out of everything around it. After braving the perils of the dark wood and its creatures the PCs find a little dryad crying upon a decaying and rotting tree. If the PCs ask her what she's doing, she says that mister sycamore wont wake up. She's doing the best she can, using all of her druidic magic, but he won't wake up.

    -A Medusa that tends to the statue of her lover and talks to it endlessly and promises he'll get better and that they'll travel the world together some day.

    I want to help them so badly, but it would need too much magic to feel worth it.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:27 No.14187108
    The real sad thing is when you realize that in real world, people don't care enough for that to actually happen.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:29 No.14187116
    Is love not worth such a sacrifice?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:29 No.14187122
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    /tg/ days like today remind me why I come here.

    Bravo. Bravo all of you.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:29 No.14187123
    I didn't say that right.

    I want to help but using magic seems to be cheating. The Warforged can be helped with a few more with little beyond determined souls, and that is part of why it's so heartwarming, but those two....
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:30 No.14187133
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    rolled 7 = 7

    Oh god... I haven't been this close to crying for like two years...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:30 No.14187135
    It came out wrong the first time.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:31 No.14187142

    What is magic but you learning to reshape reality to your will? You put all that effort into learning to warp reality.

    Put it to good use. Make someone smile.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:31 No.14187147
    In the real world, there aren't spectres of little girls reliving their last day whilst simultaneously reminding people that they let her die, and compelling their neverending penance.
    Perspective, dear boy. Learn it.
    >> Writeanon 03/09/11(Wed)17:33 No.14187159
    I'll give it a try, but I'm waaaaay better at writing ROW RWO FIGHT THE POWAH-type stuff.

    We'll see how it turns out.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:33 No.14187165
    I'd be torn, if I could help them. Would a fairy-dust solution (stone to flesh) actually help, or just make a repeat of the same sad story inevitable? Both the gorgon and the dryad need to learn something.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:35 No.14187182

    I feel like the medusa it could work for. I feel like she learned her lesson after the first time.

    The dryad I feel needs a talking to.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:37 No.14187197
    Um... I admit I'm kinda short on sleep and not really at the height of my mental faculties, but what would the dryad need to learn, exactly? This is an honest question; I'm not seeing it.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:38 No.14187201
    But I have to wonder, is a dryad not accepting a friend's death any different from a warforged not accepting friends' deaths?
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:40 No.14187214
    -A ruthless tyrant witnesses the birth of his first child. The life changing experience of becoming a father has shifted his views, to the point he will make changes for the better, especially children. On his way back to his throne to make his new decree, three peasants assassinate him. His last vision is of them stalking towards his wife and child's chamber, knives ready.

    -A mage seeking to prolong his life with lichdom makes a catastrophic mistake with his phylactery. He succeeded in entering undeath, but his every moment of existence is wracked with pain. He is barely able to rise from his bed or chair by the time the adventurers arrive to assault his keep.
    >> Just a short one Writeanon 03/09/11(Wed)17:40 No.14187217
    Momma always told her that hurting animals an' plants an' bugs was bad. But the Voices tell her otherwise. She sits in the dark, snuffling, her eyes wide. The Voices tell her to eat, and so she does. The animals have learned to be afraid of her, even if she says sorry, petting them over and over as the life drains from their bodies. Momma wouldn't like to see her like this. She would like to see her out in the sun, with the others. But she can't. She can't bear the sun. The Bad Things happen. Almost as Bad as the time they came with fire an' metal- but she doesn't like to think about that.

    She sits in the dark, her cold skin as dead as the ancient rock that surrounds her, and tries to block out the happy sounds of the real world. It's the laughter that hurts the most. Once she had tried to go the the Holy Place, where she knew she could be safe. But it had hurt, an' the Bad Things had happened again, an' so here she was. Alone.

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:41 No.14187219
    Proper application. That simply pouring more power into it won't solve the problem in this case.

    Some problems, like the warforged, you can beat through sheer stubborn spirit.

    The dryad's needs to be out thought. You explain that to her, and then work together to bring it back.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:41 No.14187222
    ....Damn it /tg/ you just made me have the first good, long cry I've had in a while. I hate you for that.

    But... it also feels like it got rid of A LOT of stress that I've had recently. I love you for that.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:42 No.14187231
    I was going to run a D&D campaign in the style of Supernatural. eg. the party travel from town to town, hunting undead that plague the area. Some of these would work really well in that format. You do a few sessions where they have to take out badguy ghosts/wraiths/etc who are genuinely evil. But once in a while throw in a curveball like the ghost of a little girl who died of pneumonia. Watch players tear up.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:43 No.14187238
    Oh god. Manly tears.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)17:54 No.14187357
    There is no name for the song. The music was made just for that loop.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:05 No.14187491
    - when the party enters a tomb, they see a ghost crying and trying frantically to put a rusted copper coin over the right eye socket of a skull wich already has a coin over the other socket. The tomb is over a thousand years old.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:08 No.14187541
    Uh... this one needs some explaining.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:10 No.14187554
    Nice. Nothing grabs the heartstrings like a lost, scared child. Good thing that wasn't posted on /b/...
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:12 No.14187576
    A coin needs to be placed over each eye to pay the ferryman. The ghost is trapped because only one coin is in the correct place.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:12 No.14187583
    I get the Greek Mythology reference, but I would say there's no coin on the skull, but there is one lying on the floor he is desperately trying to grab
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:13 No.14187593
    srsly. the ghost tries to put the second coin on his own skull. because only with two coins he can pay the ferryman chaeron to take him to the land of the dead. proper burial rites and all. implying his soul has been trapped in the tomb doing this for milennia. nice idea actually.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:13 No.14187594

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:13 No.14187596

    The real tragedy of this is, unless the party understands the significance of the copper coins, there isn't much they can do. They can't exactly get the information from the ghost. After all, what are the odds that anybody speaks the same language after a thousand years? Even if they can understand it, it's mind is probably long gone by this point.
    It's situations like this where I strictly enforce what's on the sheet. No knowledge (religion)? No speak language (ancient common)? Sorry, ghosty.
    Of course, none of that really matters with my PCs. Odds are they'd just take the coins for themselves, even if they do know their purpose.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:15 No.14187607

    Someone is channeling the Epic of Gilgamesh here. In a good way.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:17 No.14187625
    A group of adventurers come upon the ruins of an ancient city deep in an unexplored forest. The city gate is one of the few structures that still stands. On it is an inscription in a long-forgotten tongue. The wizard, an avid student of languages, writes it down. The group enters the city and discover an enormous crypt beneath it, much newer than the ruins themselves. The walls of the catacombs are lined with skeletons, each one flanked by a moldering bronze plate bearing an inscription in the same tongue. The wizard makes note of some of these, thinking briefly that they look much older than the inscription on the gate. Deep in the caves, the group finds a lich. It does not resist their advance; it merely asks them to leave once. When they refuse and attack, it merely nods and allows itself to be destroyed. Among its effects, the group finds a book, written in the same tongue they have seen over and over again since entering the city. At home, the wizard pores over the script. His suspicions about the inscriptions' ages are proven correct; the one on the gate is the newest, and the only one clear enough to translate. It reads simply, "The dead are never gone so long as one person remains to remember them."
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:32 No.14187794
    also british
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:34 No.14187811
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    10/10. Superb work, anon.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:37 No.14187840

    Thanks. It's my third one here. So far I've gotten some good reactions. Maybe I should writefag more.

    BTW, my other two are the lich who accidentally kills his descendant and the ghost of the beggar girl.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:38 No.14187857
    The party is hired to investigate a house where strange things happen--it hasn't been lived in in years, but the locals are still afraid of the man who used to live there.

    They go in and find out it's like a theater, full of costumes and makeup and props. They hear the slight noise of sobbing come from a room in the back.

    Inside is a changeling, emanciated, hunched over a book and muttering, to himself, over and over again, that he has to 'fit in better'. He is in his natural form.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)18:45 No.14187949
    I wonder if the golem would get xp for digging? that would make it awsome. "i can't beleive you spent 3 millenia digging" *golem sucker punches death* "i reached level 20 in 5 decades. do you seriously think i let that stop me?"
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)19:10 No.14188309
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    The Longest Dig, a /tg/ story

    OP here, this thread has become the best thing I've ever seen on /tg/. bravo everyone. Bravo.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)19:28 No.14188533
    >Shit, I wonder what my players would do about that kind of situation.

    Turn Undead.
    Smite Evil.

    "How much XP was that worth?"
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)19:35 No.14188592
    The party has just killed a powerful vampire. While they are ransacking his possesions, a small, absolutly normal cat try harmlessly to attack one of the party members. After just one hit the cat is mortally wounded and left for dead. The party keeps looting another room while the small cat, with his last forces, stumbles upon his owner's mouth and lets the rest of his blood fall into it.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)19:41 No.14188645

    Oh man, I'd totally be rooting for the vampire in round 2
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)19:46 No.14188702
    >Oh man, I'd totally be rooting for the vampire in round 2
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)19:49 No.14188724
    All three of those were excellent. I'd like to see more.
    >> muffin !muffiNRexs 03/09/11(Wed)19:49 No.14188726
    A cat and cruel players getting their comeuppance. I approve of this.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)20:11 No.14188957
    "We've been training together every sunrise since we were 10 years old, Gregor and I." The man across the table says. "Then we come to this inn for a drink before our shift, guarding the village from bandits."

    He glances at the mug in front of the empty chair next to him. "Only one ever made it past me. That was thirty years ago." He says, tearing up, as his arthritis-riddled hand struggles to pick up the mug in front of him.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)20:17 No.14189012
    The players hear sounds of fighting down the hallway in front of them. Upon entering the room the sounds are coming from, they see a elder man--obviously a vampire hunter, from his clothes and trappings--and a tall, gaunt figure--anyone with knowledge about the undead recognizes it as a vampire--wrestling on the ground. Before the party can react, the vampire hunter stakes the vampire--and then turns his blade on himself.

    A portrait is hung on the wall. Obviously well made, there's a man standing behind three children--the man in the picture bears a startling resemblance to the vampire hunter, and is even dressed the same. One of the children, the eldest one, has the same face as the vampire.

    Two of the children, the two youngest, have had their faces torn off the portrait. A cursory glance through the old man's belongings reveals a small, portable copy of the portrait--with large, red Xs drawn over the two youngest sons, in dried blood.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)20:18 No.14189027
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    OP read Lovecraft's "The Outsider".
    Do something involving the main character.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)20:31 No.14189158
    Combine the little vampire girl and the Kitten who helps its vampire owner and get this for a story idea

    Vampire little girl blooded hundreds of years ago and forced to stay young in mind and body has bonded with a kitten she keeps around. She cares for this little thing with her whole being letting it live outside and roam free during the day, at night she and it prowl around the street finding food for it and caring for it, The kitten in return allows her to feed from it, something she wont do normally, giving her the small amount of blood she needs to stay relatively sane. One day she while watching from the shadows, as was her custom, witnessed a bunch of boys throwing rocks and kicking this kitten before inevitably killing it. That night she tracks down the first and feeds from him before brutally murdering him in his bed

    I think i need to run this now
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)20:47 No.14189360
    I've still got my eye on this thread for more sad story bits
    >> The Pole 03/09/11(Wed)20:49 No.14189375
    I too require sad stories
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)20:58 No.14189489
    One-eye is an old goblin. For the last forty years, he has been seen carriying loads of rocks from the valley, trough the human town of Surdum, to the mountain. Nobody in Surdum knows why he does this, and nobody really cares. Everyone thinks One-eye is mad and treat him accordingly

    But lately, the children have been calling him Uncle One-Eye. Some give him food, some help him with his rocks while he crosses Surdum.

    One-eye is the last survivor of a pacific mountainous clan of goblins, wich was obliterated fifty-four years ago by the xenophobic people of Surdum. All his life One-eye has been plotting his revenge, preparing a landslide wich, he hopes, could destroy Surdum in in hit.

    One-eye now has doubts. He has dedicated his entire life to revenge. He must avenge his clan, his family. But now he is old, is tired, and doesn´'t want to harm the children. If only he could drive all the children out of Surdum for a moment....
    >> Writeanon 03/09/11(Wed)20:59 No.14189504
    As in he's gonna be dropping rocks on the people?
    That- that is ethically ambiguous right there.
    >> The Pole 03/09/11(Wed)21:03 No.14189554
    please write more writefag
    >> Writeanon 03/09/11(Wed)21:04 No.14189577
    Eh, maybe not tonight. I'll prolly start a writefag thread tomorrow sometime. Plus by the time I finish it'll be autosaging, so...
    >> CA 03/09/11(Wed)21:04 No.14189583
    Watch Futurama. Take notes.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)21:06 No.14189614

    Why not? I'll try to churn out something after I'm done with my homework. Assuming the thread is still around...

    If it's not, I might write something bigger.
    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)21:08 No.14189644

    My God, I think we just recreated the Harrowing of Hell in DnD.

    >> captcha: theednd wrote 03/09/11(Wed)21:34 No.14190013

    Uh, not that it matters at this point I guess, but this entire board gets automatically archived on easymodo.net, it seemed kinda shitty to simply not mention it. This thread is more than worthy of a bump anyhow.

    >> Anonymous 03/09/11(Wed)21:50 No.14190216
    As always, /tg/, thank you for banding together when it really mattered. :'D

    Love to you all.
    >> !UdzMmUq0Oc 03/09/11(Wed)23:32 No.14191408
    I'm pretty damn okay with this.

    Though, I also like the idea of the kitten not dying, just nearly so, and the girl, wanting to save the kitten so bad she turns it, not really knowing what she's doing.
    Then she and the kitten go feed on the ringleader.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)00:01 No.14191734
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    would /tg/ like a story time from a manga about a facility charged with saving the genetic information of all of earth's creatures? (except humans, they sent their DNA on a different ship)

    it actually caused me to physically cry manly tears...
    oh who am i kidding i cried like a little bitch for the first time since i was like 8 years old ;~;

    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)00:10 No.14191802
    Most of the posts here are simply "Isn't willful ignorance tragic?" However, some are actually really good. The goblin, man. That goblin.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)00:18 No.14191870
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    actually you can read it here.

    http://www.mangafox. com/manga/hotel/v01/c001/1.html

    added a space because i've seen bans for full linking

    SO MUCH ;~;
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)00:41 No.14192049

    And thus why the lich seeks a release from his "life".

    Also, totally imaging the Warforged being voiced by Peter Cullen.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)00:54 No.14192185

    better then Father of the Machines.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)00:59 No.14192241
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)01:21 No.14192423
    Wow, sometimes nothing makes you feel better than shedding a tear for a truly sad story. I needed this /tg/. Thank you for an amazing thread.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)01:31 No.14192486
    -The Princess of the kingdom has been kidnapped by a massive cult, and the adventurers must rescue her. Upon braving the towers, shattering the cult, they find the cult leader and the upper echelons chanting a spell, opening a portal to the Plane of Eternal Torment. The Princess is standing on the edge, of her own free will. The cultist are entranced, and do nothing but chant.

    The princess reveals that a human sacrifice is the only way to protect the kingdom from a massive invasion from the darker sides of the planes. A single tear runs down her face as she says her goodbyes to the adventurers, "I do this for my kingdom, my people."

    She jumps into the portal, condemning herself to eternal torment. The cultist are actually True Neutral guardians that were attempting to satisfy a grievous issue of the balance of the universe. The leader offers his head in Penance.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)01:36 No.14192527
    Any chance of more sad plot hooks? Or is this thread dead?
    >> S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 03/10/11(Thu)01:46 No.14192612
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    Nice thread with a lot of good ideas. Too bad all of them are fantasy.
    Also remember this one?
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)01:47 No.14192616
    A legendary bard sought to create the saddest song in the world. He traveled the world, listening to every heart wrenching tale and learning of every loss that history had ever known. During the last few days of his life he composed his final masterpiece, a song that would fill the listener with all the sorrows and anguishes of the world. The bard performed the song only once, in his own private study. then, having heard what he had created he folded up the pages of his work, wrote a note of warning to any that should find it that it should be burned and never played again, and took his own life. Supposedly the music has been lost to time, but sometimes when the wind is right an eerie sound drifts through the breeze and villages are found abandoned without a soul left.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)01:53 No.14192651
    I can't really thing of a way to heartwrench this one up, but someone could have a go of it
    > Time distortion bubble is slowly covering the planet.
    > The inside of the bubble, if viewed from outside appears to be slowing down the closer you get to the center of the anomaly.
    > Party expected to travel to the center to try and stop it. Pass other adventurers and engulfed towns who appear to be frozen in time from a distance but are at normal speed when you get close. Time is passing ultra fast on the outside of the bubble.
    > At the center is a library tower. Inside is an old librarian who had to learn how to stop time so as to preserve the library. Spent most of his twilight years teaching himself magic (or technology in a future game). Is now ancient and only kept alive by whatever spell/tech is slowing time down.
    >Dude is only trying to help with the noble pursuit of preserving knowledge.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)01:56 No.14192684
    A large explosion rocks a peaceful town and leaves a huge crater. In the debris, there is a burnt corpse clutching a large gemstone and a leather bound spell book recovered. The last three pages have a hastily written final testament on it. "I have repeated the spell countless times, trying to teleport off of this accursed plane and back home, but I seem to just reappear somewhere else in the plane of Earth. Another small pocket of air in an endless tomb of dirt and stone. I am out of rations and have no more spell components. I can hear sounds above me. Marching, pounding, systematic searching. They are coming again. I won't let them take me. I'll burn everything, leave nothing for them to find. Maybe I'll take a few with me. To whoever finds this, tell my wife I love her. I only wanted to give her the diamond she always deserved."
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)01:59 No.14192718
    >Rocks fall, everybody dies

    I laughed at the reference. Also, good tragedy.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:02 No.14192748
    The blind old man welcomed us in warmly and kindly, muttering about the lack of visitors. We were a little surprised, especially when he offered us a huge meal, but Affallius assured us nothing was poisoned, so we dug in. It was delicious.
    The old man seemed to take a shine to us--Affallius and Norwene in particular he talked to about matters that sounded grave and arcane but that Norwene later told us were ridiculously elementary.
    "The old man is crazy," she whispered after he showed us to our rooms, "but good crazy. He's not dangerous, just...cute. He told us how he invented a little cantrip to keep his books dry." We all had a good chuckle as we turned in for the night, and Affallius pulled out his dowsing gear so we could get an early start in the morning. The world wasn't going to save itself after all.
    I had barely closed my eyes when he cursed. I sat up, as did everyone else as the normally impassive elf looked at us with sorrow painted across his face.
    "It's here. Dead center. This tower--that man--is the source."
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:06 No.14192777
    So there is this song, great tune, and the lyrics always make me thing of a warforged looking back on a wasted life of bounded servitude. I've been looking for a way to incorporate it into my game. Perhaps I'll have the lyrics be told by a bard about a warforged the party meets who fought in the last war despite his peaceful nature. Then upon being freed he made friends and set out traveling with them, then have the cave in happen.

    It fits so well, I mean the fucking song title is Earthmover

    >Heres the song, I'll post the lyrics next.
    >Earthmover by Have a Nice Life
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:06 No.14192779
         File1299740797.png-(1 MB, 1277x827, 1288401703736.png)
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    >ctrl+f Nox
    >1 result

    Really? Huh, guess the sticky is having more of an effect than I thought.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:07 No.14192787
    Carved out of stone, earth, blood and bone
    knock the mountains down
    the earth's grating sounds
    they soothe the great machines
    that yearn desperately

    Just to lay them down within her gaping mouth
    more than a symbol
    more than I bargained for
    they wander ridges high
    between the earth and sky

    Like spikes upon a crown we wear upon our brow
    and want is not a need reserved for human beings
    it's fingers on your throat
    is pain that all things know

    An army of the golems is stalking, now, the heart's lands
    eating all reality
    producing only dust and sand
    nothing hurts them
    nothing gets under their stone skin
    and when their earthern mouths will open up
    Just what words should come out?
    but "we wish we were dead"
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:08 No.14192802
    Has anyone considered how sad it would be that if/when the warforged dug his way to Hell, Death told him that his friends had escaped on their own shortly after the cave-in. And then they went on to continue their lives without much thought for him, that they didn't care about him, were just using him. And that, now, he had wasted his life (yes, warforged do have lives, they eventually break down and "die). Wasted all those years with nothing to show for it. And Death just laughs...

    Since we are trying for sad stories and all, just thought I'd share.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:22 No.14192928
    Except we all know it would be Death fucking with him and such fucking-with would be doomed to failure.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:23 No.14192934
    rolled 38 = 38

    I would imagine that the Warforged would refuse to believe the King's lies. Whether or not they were actually lies, he'd bitch-slap him ANYWAY.

    >Because the most essential ingredient is blood shed willing by a loved one. And his veins have long since gone dry.

    I am definitely using this guy in my next campaign. He's got a Xanatos Gambit in mind for restoring his lost love.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:29 No.14192973
    For poetic value alone.. I love this story
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:33 No.14193018
    OP here. Glad you guys liked it so much. I wrote that one as well as most of the ones in my original posts (the digging warforged among them) and several others throughout the thread.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:34 No.14193021
    Dear /tg/,

    I have some sad fluff I had written a long long time ago for a charecter out of one of the splat books 3.5 but can't recall which book it was. The character in question had several children shackled to his belt in the picture of him. Any info you can provide would help.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:36 No.14193040
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    well I like you
    and you should like yourself
    cause you're a good person
    and you have made many a fa/tg/uys day
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:44 No.14193088
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    Well, I've always liked reading sad stories. Sometimes they are the ones that touch you the most. And as any fa/t g/uy knows a game stops being just a game when you can truly feel emotion from what transpires. Feeling that strong emotion is refreshing in a busy day to day life with no room for emotional thoughts.

    That and a good cry is wonderful for relieving the worst of stress.

    So whatever you all found in this thread, I hope it made your day a little better. Hopefully no one left more depressed than when they came.
    >> helpful comrade 03/10/11(Thu)02:50 No.14193121
    I always used to think that these kinds of 'b'awww' threads could only be found on /co/ - it was one of the reasons people kept identifying us with being gay: we tend to be overly emotional

    /tg/ always felt like the strong, unmovable contrast to us - but it's nice to see you guys have hearts just as big as ours. Y'all need to do this more often.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:52 No.14193131
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    Next summer's blockbuster right there.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:56 No.14193152
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    >be more like the pony board
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:56 No.14193154

    Don't know if you're still here. Book of Vile Darkness, Dread Emperor.

    His armor splits half of the damage dealt to him between the people (up to 4) shackled to his armor.

    >INFERIOR lopTos
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)02:59 No.14193170
    I thought everyone thought /a/ and /v/ were gay? Pretty sure /co/ was among the manlier boards.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:00 No.14193174

    They have long since passed beyond the mortal realm. He is but an echo of an echo of a fragment of a memory to what remains of their spirits as they languish amongst the countless forgotten souls in the Sea of the Dead.
    His presence. His steadfast loyalty. His defiance in the face of Death himself. It stirs something within them. They are not forgotten. Their memories live on. They are more than just spiritual essence, long since bereft of power or identity.
    To them, he was nothing. To him, they were everything.

    A "wasted life" is a relative thing.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:01 No.14193185
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    Wanna /tg/ weep manly tears? Read Kromgol threads:
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:01 No.14193186
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    This guy.

    The last emperor of Byzantium
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:03 No.14193191
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:15 No.14193260

    /a/ and /v/ are beyond mere faggotry. It's with good reason that we end up discussing a lot of animu and vidya here instead of their proper boards, as few who dare venture into these hellholes have been known to return. But sometimes, in the night, you can still hear their screams:

    >> Indonesian Gentleman 03/10/11(Thu)03:15 No.14193261
    Damn, all these tragedies, they are masterworks. Maybe I'll include some of them in my Steampunk Saga storyline.
    Let me share a simplified version of Steampunk Saga's start:

    Once upon a time, there lived a girl. She lives with her grandpa because her parents are doctors, and due to the current world war they're away to become field doctors. But then, news arrived that her parents died due to an artillery shell. Her grandpa dies of sorrow the next day. Fast forward a few years later. She turned out to be a genius, and is adept in steam tech. When she went to another country to study, the war's frontlines shifted nearby, and she became a field doctor like her parents. At the day the war ended, a soldier came to the field hospital, announced that the war is over, and fell dead. She saw something in this soldier, and she carried the body back to her home to experiment on it. The experiment was a success and the soldier's body is now enchanced with steam technology. But his soul is still missing. So she turned to the arcane arts her grandpa used to dabble in, and summoned a Dealer, a mystical go-between. She made a deal to restore the soldier's life, and signed a contract with the Dealer. The soldier returns to life, albeit his memories were erased. He became her butler.

    >> Indonesian Gentleman 03/10/11(Thu)03:16 No.14193266
    Fast forward. One day the girl is kidnapped by an ex-soldier villain, thinking that her wealth is as high as her reputation as a genius. Turns out she's spent all her money on steam research. So the villain ties her to a railroad track. The steam soldier rushes to rescue her, beats up villain's henchmen. Cue shootout between steam soldier and villain. Villain got a scar in his cheek due to the steam soldier's bullet, but the train's coming. Steam soldier lets villain escape to save his master. Steam soldier uses his body to stop the train, but it was all in vain. The girl is mortally wounded from villain's bullet. As she lay dying in his arms, the Dealer shows up for steam soldier's soul. Contract ended because the death of the contractee. But then the steam soldier makes another deal with the Dealer: Let him exact vengeance to the villain, and the Dealer can have his soul and the villain's too. The next day after the girl's funeral, the steam soldier grabs his gun and goes off to the sunset to find her killer...
    And so starts the Steampunk Saga.

    Anyone can throw in stuff to make it more tragic?
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:19 No.14193281

    dead puppies
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:20 No.14193283
    Sounds like a weird mix of full-metal alchemist and ridiculous over-the-top steampunk. Also, tied to a railroad track? Do villains actually do that?
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:24 No.14193303
    >A forest is growing and choking the life out of everything around it. After braving the perils of the dark wood and its creatures the PCs find a little dryad crying upon a decaying and rotting tree. If the PCs ask her what she's doing, she says that mister sycamore wont wake up. She's doing the best she can, using all of her druidic magic, but he won't wake up.

    Wake up Mr. Bubbles! Please, wake up!
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:24 No.14193307
    Yeah. Of course few people know it. He was the last, see - the last Roman Emperor - to the end Byzantium was Rome's legitimate successor so he was the end of an era in human history, and he watched the oncoming storm from the walls of an empire reduced to one city. Oh how he pleaded the western kings and princes for help, how he was forced to sign humiliating treaties with the catholic pope for the vague promise(never fullfilled) of aid. In the end he died in a more badass way than any of you can hope to achieve - down on the burning streets of Constantinople, the last Roman emperor, fighting alongside his soldiers, defiant to the end.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:25 No.14193315
    In a remote tunnel of the Underdark, a party comes across a thin, bedraggled drow lying across a cavern entrance, so old he can barely lift his sword, his armour in tatters. He refuses to let them enter the cavern; if they get close he tries to fight them off, though too weak even to stand.
    If the party enters the cavern, they find a crudely-constructed tomb, and crumbling pages that tell his tale.
    There were two of them, once. They fled their city to be together, only for one to be lost to the perils of the Underdark, and the survivor has been guarding the tomb ever since.
    The last words upon the pages, before he gave up keeping the records that mourn his loss:
    >We tried. It wasn't enough. I miss her.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:28 No.14193326
    Eh, can't really sympathize with elves. They're not really people.

    Warforged on the other hand are as human as it gets.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:31 No.14193335
    I lol'ed. Then my eyes went all dewy, like.

    ...there is no reason not to include this at the end of EVERY campaign.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:44 No.14193397
    A man walks into a tavern and asks for a drink. The barkeep has a funny feeling about this man and asks him his name. The man just smiles and says that no one remembers anymore, he hardly remembers himself. Seeing the man's poor state, the barkeep takes pity on him. The barkeep tells him that the drink is on the house.

    The man leaves and the barkeep is suddenly struck by the realization that he can't remember anything about what the man looks like. Not sure if he was ever really there he looks around the empty room before a glint catches his eye. On the counter is a single silver piece, a coin of a nation long forgotten to time.

    Inscribed in it is a picture of the man who was just in the bar along with the words "The Nameless God" and "His true name is our strength. Our knowledge of it is His."
    >> Indonesian Gentleman 03/10/11(Thu)03:44 No.14193398
    Well, it is supposed to be steampunkish. And I once read that a real-life criminal used to blow up railroad tracks as his fetish. It's on wikipedia somewhere.
    I'm planning to mix a bit of mysticism in there as well, and more tragic stories.
    One 'story seed' is that Steam John (the steam soldier/butler) follows the trail of the villain to a town near a Native reserve or something like that. He hears from a Native bounty hunter of a serial killing in the area and a local tribal legend of an immortal hunter. The hunter was once best friends with a shaman to the point they were blood brothers, and they both have mystical powers. But then the prettiest girl of the village takes a liking to the hunter, and marries him. The shaman secretly harbors feelings for her too, and he tried to take advantage while the hunter was away. She defended with a dagger, but the shaman pushed her away and ran. The hunter returned home to find his wife dead, and found out the shaman did it. The hunter then chases after the shaman in vengeance, both using their magical powers to their aid. But in the end, the hunter caught up with the shaman, and killed him with the same dagger that killed his wife. But the hunter broke a taboo (brother kill brother) so the Great Spirit cursed him to live forever.

    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)03:46 No.14193404
    There have been reports of bullet wounds along the Volga. This seems to happen every Winter. It remains largely a mystery until the PCs are sent to investigate. In the middle of a vicious blizzard, they sweep back and forth, until a figure just barely comes into view. His heavy coat whips in the wind and his ushanka is secured tightly, but he is unflinching. The PPsh is held tightly in his gloved hands, and all that can be seen of his face are a pair of glittering, hard eyes. His uniform dates back to Operation Barbarossa. The PCs learn he's marching to Stalingrad, to warn his fellows and join them in the fight. The Nazis are coming, and he has to find his comrades. His unit is well known for having been completely obliterated at Stalingrad, in the first wave. But still, he marches on. He bled for these men and women- he will never give them up.

    A man, a former child soldier, is given asylum. He works very hard to get his citizenship, to heal the psychological wounds of being forced to kill as an 8 year old... but he has trouble. It takes him years. True enough, however, he makes good- a home, a family, loving wife and wonderful children. The PCs seek him out as the key to a formerly African gang running gun wars in the city. A stray bullet from a gun battle catches him in the left eye, killing him.
    >> Indonesian Gentleman 03/10/11(Thu)03:55 No.14193451
    Back to the present, Steam John still tracking the villain's trail. He found out that there's a group of bandits with connections to the villain, and one of them had contact with the villain recently. He stalked the bandit's camp one night, only to find out that he's not the only one stalking the bandits. Some kind of mystical werewolf-y thing ambushes the bandits in their camp, wearing tribal garments. Seeing his target bandit get mortally wounded, Steam John battles the creature. Finally, Steam John kills the creature using its own dagger. The creature turned into its human shape, and it turned out to be the Native bounty hunter. Turns out the curse can only be broken when someone on a route of vengeance kills him with the one dagger that killed his wife and his shaman friend.
    Steam John then hurries to the target bandit's side, and managed to squeeze an info on where the villain went before the bandit died. As Steam John left the scene, a mystical death figure of the local Native tribe appeared: the Crying Owl Lady. She goes over to the fallen hunter, opening her owl mask. "Let us finally leave this world, husband."
    And they both disappeared.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)04:07 No.14193496
    Why so much bbbawww today. I took a break from this thread to catch up on supernatural and i just happen to be on a episode about lycanthrope. Fucking shit. ;_;

    >> Indonesian Gentleman 03/10/11(Thu)04:39 No.14193661
    Anyone got more bawwww to contribute? Or shall I remind you guys of the lone Ork nob who finally found his WAAAGGGGHH?
    >> Indonesian Gentleman 03/10/11(Thu)04:56 No.14193746
    OK, here it goes, I saw the original story in /tg/.
    An ork Waaaggghhh landed on a Necron world, and they fought bravely before they were annihilated by the local Necrons. Their spores were destroyed by the Necron biofield (or somesuch, I forgot), save for one who mutated to grow faster. As such, when the biofield sterilized the planet, the spore had grown too big to be eradicated. So that lone spore became an ork. He walked around the planet, trying to find any action, but the world was far from activity. He found the local Necron pyramid, but since a lone ork posed no threat, the Necrons stayed in their sleep. That ork came to thought of himself as the warboss of these metal nobs, but all he did to get them to waaaggghhh failed. Then, by chance, another ork Waaaggghh arrived on the planet while the lone ork was out. The local Necrons woke up and battled the Waaaggghhh, and in the midst of the confusion the lone ork was seen by the warboss. "Oy! You! Get yer Dakka an' foight!" The lone ork was overjoyed, and immediately grabbed a gun. He had finally found his Waaaggghhhparty. He managed to fire one bullet before he was blasted by the Necrons.
    But that ork, right at that moment, became the happiest ork in the whole universe.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)05:48 No.14194041
    Okay /tg/, I've got one.

    Upon entering a tomb your party finds a ghost with pearly white tears streaking down his face, head bowed to something in his hands. It is a lute, with no strings. The ghost whispers pleading that his instrument would sing again. He seems to have lost his voice. If given another lute, the spirit seems to fumble over the strings. It has been so long, he has forgotten how to play.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)08:07 No.14194820
    Well, I'm tapped out of sad encounter ideas but bump anyways.
    >> emaN@gurrd 03/10/11(Thu)08:29 No.14194914
    Taverns. Inns. Publicans. All places good for two things- Preparing for adventures and getting Drunk. The two go hand in hand in many cases, especially if you're a Dwarf. Which is why when Valten was a young man and found himself in Altdorf he was amazed and surprised when, at the celebration for some cousin or anothers wedding, he made the aquaintence of a very unusual fellow.

    Dwarfs in the Empire were rare enough that it was unlikely to see one every month, but not so rare to cause curious stares and hushed whispers. Dwarves in Bars were favoured patrons, and innskeepers would go out of their way to accomodate them, offering beverages even the Emperor himself would be denied. The Dwarf Valten met however, was like none other he had met, for this Dwarf was sober.

    And he'd been in the inn for a Week.

    Asking the serving staff, they all mentioned how this dwarf had shown up a week ago, and had not drunk a single drop of anything bar water. He ate, slept, and even got into a couple of brawls, but would refuse to partake in alcohol. Valtens curiousity piqued, he asked the Dwarf to tell him why he was so different to his people.

    What followed was enough to make Valten glad he didn't drink himself.
    >> emaN@gurrd 03/10/11(Thu)08:31 No.14194928

    The Dwarf had been wed not ten weeks ago. And amongst Dwarfkind, that naturally meant celebrations involving copious amounts of alcohol. So much so that even the hartiest of Dwarfkind could be too intoxicated- a feat many would say was impossible... Unfortunatley, this wasn't so. And thus, when the wedding party was attacked by greenskins, very little defence was put up by quite a few of the Dwarves. The Sober Dwarf was one of the drunkest, and by the time his head had cleared his new wife was slain, along with many members of his family and hers.

    That was too much, and he felt he had failed his kin and his beloved. So he went into a self imposed exile from his people... To avoid the shame, and the liquor he now felt abhorrent. Valten made himself friends with the dwarf, and three weeks later, was there when he started his journey as a Slayer.

    And that is the saddest thing I can offer to this- A sober Dwarf. I created this as a backstory to a character in a whfrp game, but I figured just saying "A sober dwarf" wouldn't be specific enough...
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)08:43 No.14194995
    I don't have an encounter but I can drop by and say props /tg/ you made my night. Just getting over a depression that will probably come back on when I fly home tomorrow to "bury" my grandfather. He passed away earlier this week, but I couldn't break away from work (Marines, in Japan) to get home in time while he was in the hospital...

    Not an encounter but an "evoking emotion" moment from a Shadowrun game.

    I GM'd a game that involved the team getting out of a warehouse ambush on their favored (and key to the story) fixer. His bodyguard is an elf "triggerwoman" who had a long, shady and sorrowful past of tripping up with gangs, poor upbringings, getting into organized crime (twice) and being hunted by everyone. In the running gunbattle I decide to have said NPC "Phoenix" get mortally wounded. The team's troll scoops her up and gets her into the team van.

    As they speed away to the fixer's safe house one of my players (playing a 13 year old elf otaku/technomancer who is slightly kawaii and obsessed with cats) decides that at that moment to bond with the dying character. Coughing blood and having difficulty breathing the bodyguard promises to let nothing happen to the little girl as long as she lives. As she goes unconscious my player goes crazy. But they make it to the safe house... possibly in time?
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)08:45 No.14195019
    Well... I was wondering exactly what to draw today. Now I know. Thanks, /tg/.

    I'll be back tonight with my results.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)08:51 No.14195054
    After finishing the session the player decided to go on with an immersion. Which I felt like roleplaying one on one as a sort of virtual spirit quest. It took the form of a series of contextual riddles an d allegories.

    The girl was taken to a separate part of The Matrix where a wounded eagle sprite materialized in front of her. It hopped about and screeched trying to indicate something to the girl. It led her to a particular data sphere. Which the sprite kept dancing about frantically. When the character accessed it the eagle became one and exploded into a virtual phoenix, and as the flames engulfed the girl she was filled with images and knowledge, all of it Phoenix's past, her true origins, aliases, criminal background, etc. As the sprite finally "burnt" up, it became a tiny mote of light that popped and a dog tag fell to the floor. As the girl picked it up she woke up.

    It was the next morning and she found herself clutching a dogtag and found herself able to recall everything for the experience. In a bout of good roleplaying the girl sprung up and out of her bed and ran into the "med-room" where Phoenix lie hooked up to lifesupport and other machines as the Fixer watched one of his trusted Streetdocs do his work.

    The girl waited until Phoenix woke up and began sobbing and crying and telling the bodyguard how she would make her keep her promise to the girl and protect her. All the while knowing the bodyguard's true past (which was given to the player fully out of context).

    Cue elf girl sob-session.

    Wish I could post some of the more detailed IRC logs, but damned if it wasn't some of the best writing I've managed. Don't think its quite as good now as the moment felt then. Guess you'd have had to have been there. :(
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)09:06 No.14195135
    Howdy Gotrek, how goes the whole death thing anyway?
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)09:39 No.14195327
    We will be waiting.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)09:44 No.14195367
    So this world will be about the players trying to make the wrong things in this world right.
    This will end up being a fairly involved experience.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)09:44 No.14195369
    Sounds like something from Benn Jordan/The Flashbulb out of Soundtrack To A Vacant Life, but hell if I know which one.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)10:11 No.14195500
    This would be a very interesting twist to the traditional tabletop RPG game. All of these encounters can be taken at face value and anyone could just ignore the context of how these things came to be. But each of them has a deeper underlying problem or meaning that, with the right players, can bring about a far more involved solution.

    To strike down a man who has been consumed by shadows with the sword is easy. To take his hand in yours and lead him back to into the light is a much harder path.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)10:36 No.14195605
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    Spade did not remember being constructed in a dark laboratory some forty years ago. Spade did not remember being sold as a laborer to various men over the past three decades. But Spade did remember his friends. Ellie, who had first called him Spade and given him his name. Jason, who had always given spade plenty of tools to carry and made him feel useful. Tristan, who had replaced Spade's arm when it had broken and polished Spade. Ruben, who had told spade he could keep working in the mines over night since he was so good at his job and made Spade feel pride.

    They were Spade's friends who he had lived with and worked with for nearly a month. Spade knew that he was happy here and would stay with them as long as he was allowed. But fate was cruel to Spade.

    But now everything was black and Spade could not find his friends. The mountain had trembled while Spade was working to dig a new air shaft from the depths of the mine. Then rocks had fallen and Spade was disoriented and could not remember any more. Spade reactivated and found a period of 2.5 days had elapsed. He was only 6 meters underground and quickly dug himself back to the surface.

    Spade surveyed the damage around him. The mining camp was obliterated. The landslide had left only a scarred and desolate blight around the mountain side, with all traces of humanity wiped under the sweeping flow of earth.

    Spade determined that his friends were in the mine in the newly added section. Approximately 600 meters down and 300 meters East. Assuming they were not already dead due to the collapse of the mine they would survive roughly 4.5 weeks on the water and rations they carried with them. After that they would all be dead, and Spade's contractual servitude would be severed. He would be a free man. But this thought did not occur to Spade. As the sun set at his back, Spade began to dig.
    >> Indonesian Gentleman 03/10/11(Thu)10:54 No.14195713
    John Henry, he said 'a man ain't nothing but a man, oh, I will die with a hammer on my hands, oh, I will die with my hammer in my hands'.

    I shall name our tunneling Warforged John Henry. Even though he will eventually run out of power, at least he'll die with his trusty hammer in his hands, and for a noble cause.

    Locals can sometimes still hear him hammering away at that mountainside, trying to rescue his fallen friends.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)10:56 No.14195719
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    Spade did not stop digging. He did not need to eat. He did not need to rest. What he did need was to save his friends.

    Spade had been digging for a very long time. If he had checked his internal log it would have told him that a month's time had elapsed. It would also have told him that the likelihood of any miners still surviving was quickly reaching 0%.

    But Spade did not care to know how much time had elapsed. He had not yet found his friends, so he was not yet done.

    The last pick and shovel had both broken weeks ago. Spade had spent a brief period trying to excavate the dynamite supply but was unable to locate it after several probings into the old campsite. So he had returned to digging with his hands. And so for the past two and a half weeks he had dug by hand through earth and stone and rock. His progress was much slower now and Spade decided that it may be more efficient to leave and return with more tools. But Spade could not stop now. His friends could be right behind the next rock, digging to meet him so that they could be together once again.

    And then Spade stopped digging. He looked at his right hand. His primary finger had broken off. Spade would have been in great pain, but he did not have time for pain. Repairs would need to be made to prevent further damage.

    But Spade knew Tristan would fix it for him when he found him.

    So Spade continued to dig.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:08 No.14195805
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    Two weeks later Spade was still digging. But now Spade was not digging alone.

    A passing adventure band had been traveling to the mountain homes of the dwarfs through the mountain pass. But the recent landslide had blocked the main path and had forced their rout through the valley near the mine. Upon seeing the lone warforged dismantling the mountainside they had come down to investigate.

    When they asked Spade what he was doing Spade told them. They looked troubled by this and told Spade gently that his friends could not still be alive, that Spade should stop and seek repairs for his failing body.

    Spade did not stop. He would not stop. He could not stop. His friends needed him. And he needed them. They would be very sad if he gave up on them. And Spade would be sad...

    Spade wiped the oil from his face. He told the adventurers that he would not be dissuaded. And so they went on their way.

    But they had returned four days later. But this time they had tools with them and with them came another man. Then adventurers told Spade that they had come to help save his friends and this man would fix Spade's hand. And they gave to Spade the finest pick he had ever seen.

    Spade did not wipe away the black tears this time.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:15 No.14195850
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    >Of all the souls I've encountered in my travels, his was the most ... human
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:18 No.14195867
    Spade had stopped digging. In his hand he held a small yellow shape. It was the canary that Ellie had brought with her into the mine that morning. That fateful morning so long ago.

    Spade held that poor lifeless form in his hands. He did not know what to do. He had been digging for so long and the only thing he had found was death. Spade did not know what to do anymore. He was at a loss and could only stare at the little bird.

    But a gentle hand broken Spade's trance. It was one of his new friends, who had helped Spade for more than a week now. He smiled at Spade and told Spade that he still had to find his friends.

    Yes, thought Spade. They are still waiting for me. I will find my friends. I will save them.

    So spade took a shovel in hand and walked into the valley. He buried the canary in a shallow grave before returning to the mountain side.

    My friends, though Spade. I have found so many of them that I never knew I had. They are here beside me, digging. and for the first time in months Spade no longer felt alone in the world.

    But I still must find those I have lost, he thought with new determination. I will save them.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:18 No.14195872
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    >that scene
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:19 No.14195877
    The adventurers need the tome of blinding light. It allows anyone who reads it are rumored to be granted great powers. To pierce the veil that separates life and death is a trifling matter to one who knows how to comprehend the books maddening words.

    They come upon a forest town wreathed in a deep haze that has been besieged by dark beasts.
    The villagers weary of the party attacks them. Until the shadow creatures attack and begin to steal the villagers and attacking the party.
    After besting them the party will be begged for help.

    These creatures live amongst the shadow and steal the villagers for some dark purpose. The person responsible a mage has imprisoned the people of the village and slowly wittles down their numbers.
    If asked they will tell them of the shadow creatures.

    This is the clue the party was looking for. They decide to kill two birds with one stone.

    After figuring out how to leave and then killing the shadow beasts that live in the shade you have to go into the overgrown forests where corrupted creatures live. The beast known as the Shadowbourn sleeps there ruling over the forests and devouring all those who are foolish enough to enter it's dominion.
    The inevitable battle comes and they are victorious

    After besting that they will come upon a clearing, and in that clearing lies a small crumbling tower shining with brilliant light....and nothing else.
    The beasts dare not tread upon that land and no trees grow there. The deep green grass stretches on endlessly. A member of the party stumbles upon bones. The bones of humans lay in the grass.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:20 No.14195884

    "So this...this is where they were taken."

    they enter the empty crumbling tower and slowly traverse the stairs. Their footsteps echo throughout the decaying construction.

    Upon entering the top room they find it warmly lit by a cozy fire and a family relaxing together. The children, two little boys, are playing with toys and the youngest girl is sitting on her mother's lap by the fire. And sitting in an armchair next to them is a skeleton that the little girl repeatedly asks, "Daddy, can you tell me another story?". The entire room is a permanent persistent image of a family and inspection of the adjacent plot shows four graves, carefully tended to

    They find the great tome a source of nigh limitless power lying in a pile of dust next to his feet.

    Upon touching it scenes begin to shine before them. The shadow kind hunted and slaughtered the villagers the illusionist battled valiantly but fell to their overwhelming number. Another scene shows up. The illusionist rushing towards his home fighting dozens of shadowkind as large and powerful as the ones your party faced. Hoping that the barrier was still holding.
    Only to find the bodies of the villagers. The once beautiful fields were now stained with blood.

    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:22 No.14195905

    He ran towards the tower. running up the stairs.
    He summoned lighting and fire burning the creatures as he ran.

    Flash to another vision.
    He sees the remains of his family strewn throughout the room. Within the corner of the room in the darkness lay six red glowing eyes. A chewing sound coming from it.

    A sound that shouldn't come from a human came from his mouth and he tore apart the tower with lightning. It screamed in agony and he continued to strike it down.

    The shadowkind felt the death of their leader and ran towards the tower besieging it. He knew that this was it the last moment of his life. He refused to let them win.
    He raises his hands and calls out to some power and cast a spell of eternal illumination over the tower. The light tears through the shadow kind in and around the land.

    "No wonder they wouldn't step foot upon this land"

    He found and buried what remaind of his beloved wife and children. In his grief the illusionist cast his last and greatest spell. An illusion so great that it can bring reality from fantasy.

    He sat there in the chair that he sat in so many times and watched his beloved family. He spun tales of his journeys till he could speak no more. The spell took from him the majority of his life force significantly shortening his life.

    That is where the adventureres come in. The illusionist did great and sometimes terrible deeds to acquire the knowledge to bring back his beloved family....and village

    This is where the party can choose how the story should end. Was wondering if there should be a NPC there to give needed exposition.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:26 No.14195934
    An order of clerics tells the PCs of a town that has been infested by undead because of a lich that has taken up residence in a tower just outside of town. The PCs are shown a way to get to the tower without going through the terrible town.

    They confront the lich and the battle is fierce. The lich quickly becomes enraged, shouting at them about how they don't understand. Soon the sound of faint screams can be heard and his eyes are drawn to the window. He sinks to his knees in horror as he sees the town burning, just in time for the PCs to strike the final blow.

    The PCs hurry to the town, finding the order of clerics setting it ablaze. The skeletons that were tending the fields go about their duties as if nothing was happening until their bones split from the heat. The zombies which were fixing the town hall collapse in flames without raising a hand to defend themselves and all around the townsfolk are burning.

    At the edge of town a heavily burned child is trying to revive his mother who has succumbed to either the heat or the smoke. The child can only find one thing to ask them. "Why? Why didn't their protector come to save them?"
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:30 No.14195955
    AT this point it can go one of three ways
    1. They get the book and "win" the game and leave
    2. They shatter the spell finally putting them all to rest.
    3. They use the spell to help the illusionist fight off the shadowkind and secure a happy ending to his final story.
    4. They hunt and kill off all of the shadowkind still in the forest and make shadow based weapons from their bones and skin.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)11:36 No.14195987
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    >297 posts and 61 image replies omitted. Click Reply to view.

    About to hit auto sage. It's been great guys. Let's do this again some time.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)12:08 No.14196181
    If nothing in this thread pulled at your heartstrings you have no soul.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)13:00 No.14196543
    Well, it's quite fitting for a Hunter: The Reckoning game. The class system would make for quite interesting teamwork for such tasks.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)13:20 No.14196694
    I just think a game where the only purpose is to solve problems in their world will make the players more invested in the adventure.
    It can be more then just being about getting to the end of the dungeon and slaying person x or acquiring loot z.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)13:37 No.14196803
    Bump because I need more story.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)15:26 No.14197697
    /tg/ I just want to say thanks. While this thread hasn't gotten any tears from me yet, it has been extremely therapeutic for me.

    You see, my daughter died last week. She was almost two. She was beautiful, and strong. She had cerebral palsy, caused by cavernomas in her brain (inflated blood vessels, put pressure on surrounding brain tissue). Five of them, deep in her cerebellum. We always knew there was a chance to loose her, the cavernomas could rupture at any time.

    Still, you can't prepare yourself completely. She would always wake up at 8:30, play in her crib for a while, then make noises at me (she wasn't able to talk yet, even at 20 months) and I'd wake up and come get her, no matter how sleepy I was. So when I woke up from a moderately late night playing D&D with my wife and roommate at noon (wife was at work, roommate at college), I knew something was wrong.

    I rushed into her room and found her, pinned against the crib wall by the piece of foam we had put in to keep her from hurting herself. She liked to pull herself to standing (couldn't do it on her own), then let go and fall. The little adrenaline junkie had literally broken the wooden crib in three spots with her head, so we put a piece of insulation foam in to keep her from destroying it further or hurting her head. The foam was tall enough she couldn't reach the top, and even if it fell over it couldn't fall all the way in.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)15:27 No.14197707
    >>14197697 Cont

    But she had surprised us again. She was always so determined, so strong. Her physical therapists were always impressed by how she didn't let setbacks stop her. She had apparently figured out how to balance on her knees and reach the top of the foam. She pulled her self to standing, and then did her fall backwards thing. The edge of the foam caught under her chin, and the weight of her body held it there. She died 10 feet away from me, on the other side of a wall. The ME confirmed that it didn't hurt her, it was just like falling asleep, and that she likely couldn't have made a sound, but still, my baby girl died and I wasn't able to save her.

    We buried her just this Monday. I dressed her in the swimsuit she loved (she loved bathtime, always got super excited when we showed her the swimsuit, which she had to wear because we couldn't keep ahold of her otherwise), then in her favorite jammies, then put her two favorite toys in her hands and tucked her in with her "magic blanket", the one she HAD to have to fall asleep. Then we went to the cemetery and I buried her.

    So yeah, its been a rough week. I'm doing good, thanks to my wife and my bros. And I'm doing even better now, thanks to you /tg/. Something about this thread has helped, in ways I can't describe.

    So for anyone out there having a rough time, dealing with a hardship, or missing a person who isn't there, learn from my daughter: Get back up, keep trying, reach for what you want, and never let anything stop you.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)15:49 No.14197937
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    I don't even know what to say, man...
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)16:10 No.14198193

    And by saying that, you've said everything that needs to.

    She was strong, in every way. Too strong, maybe. But she loved life. We could have coddled her, padded everything. We could have minimized the risk of her death but we would have also minimized the fullness of her life. She was happy, always smiling. I'm going to miss that the most; her smile, her face when she pulled herself up on the pvc pipe frame I built for her, her face a signboard saying "daddy! look at me! I did it!"

    I just want people to know that even in the worst times, good things happen. I've literally lived through my worst nightmare. I had to give CPR to my baby girl, even though I knew she was too gone to save. Because thats what you do, you do EVERYTHING you can, so you have no regrets. Her last breath is literally inside me. Her strength is a part of me. When I feel empty, like a familiar who's wizard has died, I think of her, and how her strength came in some part from me, and how its a part of me now.

    And then I feel her strength in me. And I feel invincible. I can turn to the world and say COME AT ME BRO, because from this point on, I know that NOTHING can hurt me worse than loosing her.

    I do miss her tho. I understand the supervillain motivation now, all too clearly. But that isn't what she would want. When she fell down and bonked her head, if it only hurt a little she smiled, like she was glad to feel something, to experience a new feeling. If it hurt a lot, she cried it out, then moved on.

    Let that be the lesson, /tg/. Whether learned from our warforged rescue digger, or my daughter: Never give up, keep moving forward.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)16:27 No.14198375
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    You, sir, are a strong and eloquent man, and though I don't know you and you don't know me and we will never meet, you have my respect.
    >> Anonymous 03/10/11(Thu)17:24 No.14198958
    I haven't wept so hard since the Kromgol threads:

    You are in good company sir, we are all sorry for your loss.

    I guess it didn't help that this song was on my itunes as I read your story...

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