general literature , if members have more than 5 submissions send a note to the group to make a folder for one of the following
( comic/manga )
( novel )
( settings )
The Crypt of Malec Nac by HorizonPointShawn, literature
Literature
The Crypt of Malec Nac
Costel peered into the gloom before him, the flickering light of his torch seeming all too scant in the stale and noisome air of the space in space in which he now found himself. Having lowered himself through the black aperture in the hilltop that had appeared, seemingly while he and his fellow cutthroats had slept, it was soon all too apparent that this was no hastily dug hiding place or simple sinkhole, but a well made space of astounding skill and craftsmanship. This was clear to Costel, despite being able to make out little in the way of detail, as the walls seemed square and clean, except for what seemed to be complex carvings of some sort at first glance, and the space seemed completely dry. In fact, it seemed too dry for any subterranean structure within the eternal damp of Morgulia and Costel licked lips suddenly grown chapped as much from the seemingly unnatural dryness as from the nervousness that caused his heart to pound in his chest and ears with alarming
The Coffee Shop: Circle of the Drake by ChainGangOfOne, literature
Literature
The Coffee Shop: Circle of the Drake
THE CIRCLE OF THE DRAKE
MOUTH OF THE DRAGONWhen choosing this Druid Circle at 2nd level, you learn the Primal Savagery Cantrip. It does not count against your number of Cantrips known. Additionally, you learn to speak, read, and write Draconic.
DRAGON ASPECTAt 2nd level, you gain the ability to channel aspects of dragons in to your form. By expending a use of your Wild Shape, you gain one of the following benefits of your choice for one minute:
Gain resistance to one damage type of your choice from fire, cold, lightning, acid, or poisonGain a claw or bite attack based on Strength that does 1d8 piercing damage (bite) or slashing damage (claw)
DND Stereotypes: Playable Races by ChainGangOfOne, literature
Literature
DND Stereotypes: Playable Races
So I've noticed in my time playing D&D that a player's choices in how they build their character can say a lot about them as a player. This new series is basically gonna go in to the various stereotypes associated with the various race, class, and subclass choices. And yes, before you ask, I did get this idea from YouTuber SoundSmith. Either way, we're gonna be starting with some of the various races in the game. Now, I won't be able to cover every race because some are either too uncommon for there to be a stereotype or are too new to have a stereotype associated with them.
Oh, and obligatory disclaimer: Just because stereotypes exist d
The Coffee Shop: Thug Roguish Archetype by ChainGangOfOne, literature
Literature
The Coffee Shop: Thug Roguish Archetype
THUG ROGUISH ARCHETYPENot all Rogues rely solely on their ability to hide themselves or deceive others. Some, most often pirates or enforcers, practically flaunt their criminal occupation, and are unafraid of possible consequences, as if daring others to challenge them. These thugs are unafraid of fighting, and often relish the opportunity, using the cunning normally reserved for stealth and subterfuge for picking apart their opponent's fighting styles, or sometimes forgoing thought, losing themselves in the adrenaline and thrill of a brawl. Thugs like these are underestimated at their foe's peril.
TALENTED BRAWLERWhen choosing this Archetyp
Act II: Anger ~The Moon~
As it turned out, finding a single, small, hollowed out tree in the middle of the woods I had been in for about a day, was a much harder task than finding a stream. Feeling more than a bit lost, I was very glad to have made the decision to bring all of my belongings with me after working so hard to…acquire them. Several times I found myself doubling back after running into steep cliffs or bramble fields I didn't recognize. Even when I thought I was going the right way I would see something new allowing doubt to filter in.
I had left my shelter in early morning, arrived at the stream by mid-morning and now as
Stepping over to my bed, I nestle beneath the stitched remnants of stolen bed rolls. I watch my tail twitch with nervous energy as it hangs off the raised wooden platform I carved my bed from, willing it to still. *Swish-swish flick-flick swish-swish flick swish flick* Grabbing the end in frustration, I pull it close to my body, holding the middle between my knees.
Eyes sliding closed, my heart slows down and I listen to the steady hum of insects outside my window.
*crunch*
Oh please no. Body stiffening, causing the knot between my shoulders to pinch up.
*I warned you* the voice snarls.
Not now! Fear and anger surge within me. How dare h
Act II: Anger~The Book~
Morning came and with it so too did the headaches, and the need to pee. I quickly dealt with the one I could control.
Returning to the hollow tree, my mouth feels exceptionally dry, meaning I probably spent the entire night with my mouth open…snoring. Gods I hope I didn’t swallow anything, the very idea making my shoulders twitch. Grabbing the best smelling water skin and plopping down, I pull the stuffed leather pants towards me, ready to start my day with what could actually be called breakfast. Removing one of the oatmeal pouches, water skin in hand, I shimmy to the entrance, eager to let the sun warm
Act II: Anger~Comfort~
The next several days were agony, my insides roiling as cramps would bring me to my knees. I assumed my stress made them worse. My emotions thrashed around in my head like a caged animal, memories intruding relentlessly sending me into spirals of depression and anger. My horns itched maddeningly, my headaches thrumming in my skull. Even my tail seemed to fight me, lashing out at anything within range to the point that I had to hold it against my chest, pulling thorns as a result of its last tantrum against a berry bush. I felt dirty with nothing to stem the flow. Early on I had hoped the base of my tail could wind betw
Act I: Denial~A New Threat~
A low grunting and the sound of cracking twigs startles me from my sleep. Eyes sliding open, I lift my gaze to peer beyond the tangled branches of my shelter, small medallions of moonlight dotting the forest floor.
During my stay at the spring I had observed many animals coming and going from the water's edge, often from the cover of my bush. Nestled in secret I felt safe, less exposed, less vulnerable. Deer would wander by timidly, birds came and went, a fox kept coming back, always glancing in my direction like it knew I was there. I was terrified when a pack of boars started rooting around, tearing up roots and