Classic Fantasy D&D 5e - Shadow of the Demon (for lack of a better title)
#41
I did some research and could not find any information about the text size issue. I'm not sure what is going on but I'll keep an eye out.
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#42
Back at the Inn


Tatyana puts the scimitar and crossbow in the corner of his room and they enjoy the evening together, feasting on fine wine and fine cheeses. Renchant basks in yet another soul cleansing bath and another pleasurable deep tissue massage. Twice he had suggested they move to the bed, but she resisted. 


Resisted... who could resist Renchant?


For a serving wench, Renchant thinks she shows remarkable intelligence and interest as he pratters on about the many books and scrolls he has read. She responds in kind and seems genuinely interested. Most people’s eyes glaze over, but not Tatyana’s.


“You have a fine head on your shoulders, girl,” he says. “It’s a compliment that it so well complements the rest of you.” He smiled at his own wit and belatedly realized that might have sounded crass, but he was now on his sixth glass of wine and was intoxicated, blessedly so and didn’t care that much.


(He rolls a 2 on the intoxication chart. That means he gets advantage on charisma skill checks. Bam! He’s going to try something.)


“You’re wasted here, Tatyana.” he leaned closer to her and exuded his considerable charm. He sat in a clean robe and she was massaging his now stockinged feet as he nursed another globet of mulled wine. “Why don’t you come with me? I could use a good masseuse on the road. I’ll pay you ten times what you get here if you stay on with me for, say...a year? Tell me you will?”


She shifts and mulls it over while she refills his silver goblet with more wine. 


“Ten times the pay, you say? But Master Renchant you don’t even know what I make,” she responds with a smile. “You don’t even know me. And I certainly don’t even know you.”


He loves the way she says his name, the playful lilt in her voice. “Oh, but you shall, girl. I promise that I will be the most... intriguing person you have ever met. Think of the adventures we could have...together! Me attached to you and your unique...talents,” he raises his silver goblet and looks her slender form up and down, meaningfully, laying the charm on thick with a winning smile. “You could even become my apprentice. Think of that? I’ll teach you what I know about magic...and you can do...odd jobs for me,” he says airly.


“Where would we go?” she asks with eyes wide and innocent.


“The world is wide open, ripe for adventure, lass. But we’re going south, far south to where the winds are warm and the landscape is open with vast dunes of white sand.”


“Sounds...hot.”


“I’ll buy you a silken desert dress. It’ll feel like the barest breath of air on your skin, so fair, and I must say I’m quite interested to see how you’d look in such a gown. Quite fetching, I’d say. Quite fetching, indeed! More fetching than the Queen of Kendrassa, and believe you me, she was renowned among women--one of the most beautiful of the desert people.” 


He got an 18 total on his persuasion.


Tatyana smiles and leans towards him. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but on one condition.”


“Anything, my dear.”


“If I am to be so...closely attached to you,” she places a hand on his knee. “With me being a young girl and you a solitary handsome bachelor. I would have certain assurances as to my well being.”


He raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Of course. Say on.”


“I shall be more than your apprentice, Renchant,” she moves even closer to him and he can smell the heady scent of the light rose water on her neck. Suddenly, she is on his lap with one arm around his neck, caressing his neck gently, sending electric thrills of pleasure coursing through his spine. 


“How about I also be your friend, your confidant, and...lover?” she looks at him with those liquid eyes.


“I am liking this arrangement more and more,” Renchant smiles and pulls her closer. “Very well, I accept.”


“I thought you might. I promise I shall be all those things and more if--” she pauses meaningfully.


“Yes?” He can barely hear her, as he gently kisses her shoulder and then her neck. Magic was his passion, but this...creature, this girl--probably a bit more than half his age--and yet...yet she possessed a passion that was a magic all its own. “Anything.”


She pulls away slightly and touches his nose. “--if you marry me.”


Marry. 


The word hits him like an ogre’s club and sputtering, poleaxed, he stands up, so suddenly startled that he sends her falling with a yelp onto her rump onto the carpeted floor. The royal splash of wine marrs the white fur carpet. 


“What did you say?” He asks and wipes wine from one hand onto a nearby white towel.


“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me,” she pouts and moves to a sideways sitting position, tucking her legs to the side under her, her dark hair glistening around her form, framing her. Her simple modest white dress molds to her figure in distracting ways. “You saved my life Master Renchant.,” she beams up at him. “I already love you for that. And I am interested in you and what you do. But I am a proper girl, not some whore to be used up and cast aside. I will be wed before...you know.” she glances at the bed.


Wed...? She was beautiful, there was no denying that, but... marriage? His analytical brain started firing alarm bells. Never in his life had marriage ever crossed his mind. He had seen that kind of thing destroy too many happy friendships! 


Marriage...? Him? With her?


It was preposterous! Out of the question! He was married to his...research, his books, his magic! That was his true passion, wasn’t it? 


His head felt fuzzy. He had had too much to drink. He knew it made him extra charming, but he couldn’t help feeling something had backfired here.


“But I barely know you,” he says, backpedalling the deal. “And you barely know me.”


“I know. I already said that earlier.”


“Marriage? Do you even know what you’re asking?” he asks.


“You look frightened, Renchant, are you unwell?” 


Such an alluring smile. Hells and Demons! “You sure you won’t just... come along as a friend? You know, just for the fun of it?”


The way she tilts her head and smiles back at him with those eyes...She slowly shakes her head still smiling at him. The motion, her form, those eyes. It makes his gut ache with desire.


“I’m surprised at you, Renchat, and at most men! Why would you settle for spending one night with me in some fleeting fling of passion rather than have me, the real me, devoted and joined at your side, for all time?”


He hadn’t thought of it like that. Why indeed? But...this was happening too quickly. “I... I just don’t think we should rush into something so...important as marriage.”


“Could it be that you’re afraid of commitment? I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”


He stands up, anxious, and begins to pace. He snatches up the goblet and takes a long drink. Blast! He needed the fortitude it gave. “I’m not afraid girl. But we have to know this will work won’t we? What if we’re not compatible. We should at least have an engagement first.” He sputters. He couldn’t believe he’d just said that.


“Engaged? How sweet! Very well, I accept!” she claps her hands together and beams up at him, then suddenly she’s hugging him awkwardly, causing him to nearly spill the goblet of wine.


“Girl, I... “ he gently pushes her away with one hand. “Are you sure? Stars above, I’m old enough to be your father! What do you see in me? Certainly not...romance.”


“You think you’re not distinguished enough?” she asks, playful again. “Not handsome enough? Not young enough for romance?” she sighs and moves towards him again, taking the goblet from his hands, drinking some herself. She sets it down on a small table. “You are some years older than I, true, but you are not elderly. You are still young and strong. What? In your mid thirties maybe? You have a fine physique--I know--for a book-learned man anyway.”


“Well...yes, I do try to take care of myself,” he says, and he hopes the grin doesn’t look too foolish. He could feel the heat rising on his face. This conversation was absolutely ridiculous.


“I’m no fool, Master Renchant. You are right about my prospects here. With so many refugees and war threatening on the horizon, there is little for me here. You are a man with power and wealth. I know that you will go places. And I’ll help you! In turn, you’ll help me. Think what we could do...together!”


Indeed. His face felt warm again. “I...” he pulls at his beard. “Being married to me will not be easy.” And yet...to have such a charming specimen at his side, he deserved that didn’t he?


“The best things in life are never easy,” that’s what my father always said.


“Your father? Who is your father? Gods above, who are you!?”


“I’m Tatanya,” she smiles up at him again with those bewitching dark eyes. 


“I know that. But I know nothing about you.”


“I’m a mystery,” she smiles enigmatically in her playful way. “You like mysteries. You spoke so much about how many magical mysteries were yet to be had, contained in those musty old tomes you haven’t read.”


“I do like mysteries. I like them to be uncovered and discovered.” He sinks down into his chair. “So, tell me... who are you, Tatyana, the serving girl?”


“What if I told you I was a mere peasant girl, the daughter of a farmer. Would that spoil things?”


“You aren’t. I can tell that you know how to read and the way you speak, you have a keen intelligence and wit.”


“Are you saying a farm girl cannot learn how to read? That they can’t be intelligent?”


“Certainly they can be, but few have the time nor the inclination for reading. You have been tutored,” he says. “In the king’s own tongue as well. I can hear it in every word you say.”


She smiles at him and winks and then gives a courtly bow. “You have found me out. I am not a daughter of a farmer. I am, in fact, the daughter of Sir Collin Bolstead. Have you heard of him?”


He got an 11 on his History check.


“No, should I have?”


“He is--well okay--was a Knight of the Realm and the Duke Oaken Watch.”


Renchant finds her back on his lap, and she’s now tracing her fingers atop his hand, her head on his shoulder. “He’s been imprisoned on charges of treachery. It’s all a misunderstanding, of course.”


“Of course...” he mutters, pulling at one end of his mustache.


“I’ll need your help with that at some point.”


“Of course...” he says automatically.


“Good,” her lips find his and she kisses him long and deep. When she pulls away, he’s shocked to see his own desire mirrored in her eyes.


“Well, I had better get to bed,” she stands up slowly, one hand lingering on his shoulder. 


She looks down at him. “You’ll be here in the morning? You won’t run off, will you? We are engaged after all.”


“Run off? Me?” the coughing fit caused him to reach for the wine goblet again.


She folds her arms and looks at him with a stern expression, tilted head, expectant, like a demanding little queen, he thought. 


Stars and demons, but who was this girl? “I’ll be here,” he finally answers after his bracing gulp of wine.


“Promise?”


“Of course,” he said. Then louder. “Of course!” And he gives her a big winning smile.


She flashes an answering grin that brightens the room and leans down and kisses his nose. Then, with a twirl, she spins away, causing her white dress to flair dangerously above her calf. His heartbeat is fast and heady as he watches her skip out of the room humming to herself.


He sank back into his chair. Engaged. He was engaged. 

“Upon my magic, what just happened?”
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#43
Quote:His friends figure there were lots of guards about earlier and that the guards must be taking care of things.

Are there guards about right now?
(50/50 | 4[d10]) No

Of course not, but it made for a nice bit of comedy relief.
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#44
That bedroom scene must have been fun to write. It was very entertaining to read.
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#45
Glad you enjoyed it Teviko!

It was fun to write up. 

I decided to keep playing off of the earlier post:


https://www.rpgsolo.com/forum/Thread-Cla...00#pid3400
where the oracle came up with "Dangerously" "Cute". 

I originally thought she was in on the plot to mug him, but no, turns out she was a victim of the crime just as he, and the situation just brought them together. Then I had to figure out how his persuasion roll would make sense to where she would willingly join him.

I'm glad how it turned out. 

While I like Renchant, he is a bit of an overbearing know-it-all, so it's fun to see an intelligent girl with wits and charm put him in his place.
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#46
(I know when I started this game I said it wouldn't be narratively heavy, but sometimes the muse has other ideas.)

Later that Night

Do the guards show up to investigate the bodies in the alleyway?
(50/50 | 5[d10]) No, but...

No but someone living there heard the commotion and is raising a cry.

Do the guards come and investigate at the inn? (SL)
Yes

Did anyone see Renchant’s involvement. 50/50
No

Is Renchant questioned: 50/50
No

With Renchant’s innate ‘noblesse oblige’, the guardsmen were loathe to question such an important figure with his fine clothes and riches and so they did not interrupt his sleep. He heare little of the commotion through his wine-fogged Tatyana-laced dreams anyway.


The Next Morning

It took a while for the wine to wear off, and in the morning hours, before his keen intellect had kicked into high gear, he wondered if he had perhaps imagined the entire night. The lovely Tatyana. His engagement. It seemed ridiculous in hindsight. Surely he could not have been so foolish as to actually get engaged to someone while drunk?

Yet...the scimitar and crossbow collected by Tatyana, leaning against the fireplace brought the reality crashing back. They would implicate him in last nights events. But that hardly seemed important when compared with the earth-shattering reality that he had in truth become engaged.

Him. Engaged! A little flutter of anxiety coursed through him. When would she be here? Maybe he should leave before she arrives? He glanced out at the window, the cold, the snow blowing fitfully about. No. He could wait, he decided. Besides, if he left, he wouldn’t see her again.

He went to the gilded mirror, splashed water on his face, and smoothed his beard. Then he turned sideways to examine his fine figure. He tilted his head to the side slightly, turning up his lips and narrowing his eyes slightly. The action firmed his nose and jaw. He thought himself rather debonair.

The knock on the door startled him. It was her! He leapt to the door, and threw it open, leaning with against the door frame, his winsome smile beaming like

“Congratulations sir!” The innkeep stood before him and pumped his hand. “Let me be the first to congratulate you! Tatanya has told us all so much about you! While I’m sorry to see her leave--she’s been an absolute dear you see--I know you’ll make her very happy!”

“What is this about?” Renchant felt he was losing his equilibrium again and he had only one goblet of wine this morning. Now for the first time he sensed a festive air in the place. Hot smells of baked sweet bread wafted up from below and he heard sqeals of joy. Squeals...

“Well, the honorary breakfast following the official bethrothal of course. The priests and documents of writ are below, as are your companions. All is ready for the signing.”

“Wait...a betrothal? Signing?”

“You know... the--”

“Ah yes. Nevermind. I understand,” his mouth twisted downward slightly. He remembered now.

(Rolled a 19 on his INT check). Dusty legal volumes weren’t his forte, but he DID like to read and sometimes you couldn’t be picky. The bethrothal wasn’t the official marriage, but it was very near it from a legal standpoint. There were ways out of it, of course, with the proper lawyers and funds. It protected the interests of both parties.

“Tatyana has been busy, I see,” Renchant added.

“You have no idea, sir. I don’t think she slept nary a wink with her telling us all the happy news and with all the cooking. We’ve spared no expense. Tatyana assures me you’re good for it.” The statement had the feel of a question and a bead of sweat trickled down the inkeep’s face.

“Oh... of course,” Renchant said and waved a hand airly as he gave a courtly bow. “Let me grab my things.”

“We’ll be below.”

He could still run. He didn’t have to sign anything. He knew a spell that could bend light about him and he could slip out simple as that. He was master of his own fate, not a slave to the dictates of society and the whims of some pretty girl.

He went to the window and stared out onto the snow-filled courtyard below. Then he pulled up the sash and felt the bracing air hit him. He wouldn’t bump into people if he left through the window... But Stars it was cold out! It had snowed hard all night and the drifts had piled up the snow up on walls and fences and sides of homes. Wind blew the flurries about. The wind seemed so free...

Stay or go... that was the question. He would be married to a woman and not to his magic. Could he really do that?

“Renchant?”

He spun. How long had he been standing there. She stood in the doorway, her dark hair brushed until it shone in light from the hallway window. She looked radiant and stunning in a green gown with silver scrollwork that complemented her figure.

“Why is the window open?”

“Ah...just getting a bit of fresh air. Don’t you find it a bit stifling?”

“Hardly,” she said, holding her arms. “It’s an ice box up here. How long have you had it open?”

He ignored that and kept it open. He leaned against the window sill and pulled at his beard, studying her. The wind at his back felt cold, but he ignored it. His dark eyes studied hers narrowing. He was not going to be bullied or rushed into this. He had faced down far worse things than a lovely girl. “The inkeep says you have priests and lawyers below.”

“I do,” she smiled. “Everything is ready for the signing. And your friends are below too. You wouldn’t believe how stunned they all are.” She gave a brief chuckle.

“Oh I think I can imagine,” he said dryly. “I can hear them now, ‘The unapproachable Renchant finally tied down.’ You do know what people call marriage don’t you? ‘The ball and chain.’ Are you sure you want that?”

“Of course not!” she said, firming her lips. “How dare you even ask that. As if it’s some foregone conclusion.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No. It is not, and you know it. Surely, WE have a say in the matter.”

“Do we? We’ll grow old and flabby and gray and all the mystery in love will bleed out with the sands in the hourglass,” he muttered and flicked at a speck of dust on his robes.

“You know this?” she whispered.

“Oh, I’ve seen it, my dear. Time and time again in every crusty couple who incessantly harps at each other. It’s like they can’t wait for the other to die to have a moment of peace. But then fear the moment for then who else would they torment?”

“You have a very sad outlook on life.”

“I have a realistic outlook on life.”

“No, you have a jaded outlook on life! And you have no imagination for what might be.”

“No imagination! I tell you girl, I’ve imagined up things you couldn’t begin to under--”

“Oh yes! I know all about your magic and your ability to comprehend things beyond mere mortals like myself.”

Her hands flew about when she grew animated, he noticed. They seemed to dart about like small birds cutting through the air in swift flight.

“I never said you were a mere mortal and--”

“You could scarcely talk about anything else last night,” her hands were on the hips now and then folded across her breast, and then she was stalking into the room, her finger pointed at him. “Magic this. Magic that. Magic me. Magic ooo wow!”

“Well, it is all I am,” he said, wanting to take a step back, but he had the wall and the window to his rear.

“No, it is not. What is your full name?”

“What?”

“Your full name.”

“Renchant Pel Nil,” he said proudly. “I thought I told you that.”

“You did, but apparently, YOU needed to hear yourself say it again. It means ‘born of the Nil family’, am I right?”

“That is not very common knowledge. Where did you--?”

“I read and I learn!” she locked eyes with his and thumped a finger into his chest. Though she stood a head shorter than he, the fire in her eyes made her seem to grow in height. “Just because I’ve had to work as a serving girl does not mean I cannot think, read, nor reason.”

“No... obviously not. And what did you reason out?” He asked. He felt himself again strangely attracted to this fiery intelligent creature.

“That you were born into this world,”

“Ah. How astute.”

“Oh don’t look at me like that. You don’t seem to believe it! You think you were cut out of some magic fabric and fell from the heavens like some blessed star to shed your all-consuming light of knowledge about magic lore upon the rest of us. But you are a flesh and blood breathing man,” she said.

“Yes and?”

“And because you have studied magic, you think THAT life is all you are and it will ever be. It’s absurd and it’s sad.”

“It’s true.”

“No it isn’t!” she stamped her foot. “You were born into the Nil family. You were a babe first, and you didn’t start burping magic sparks while at your mothers breast did you?”

The image made him smile. “Burping sparks... Where did you come up with--?”

“You were a boy, you grew up and played with other boys. You put a toad in your sister’s bed and teased her mercilessly.”

Is she right? 50/50
Yes

“Wait, how did you know that? I--”

“The point is you were normal, like everyone else, and you later chose to study magic.”

“Obviously. And I’m proud of it.”

“I know you are, but it means you chose.”

“What are you getting at girl?”

“That logically, you still have the power to choose.”

“And?”

“You can choose something other than magic.”

“I’m not sure I can,” he muttered.

“Oh, don’t limit yourself. Are you really going to be that two-dimensional? Don’t you see the magic in a beautiful sunrise? A sunset clothed in reds and oranges? There is beauty and magic and wonder in the world even without the flashy sparks and the funny words.”

He felt truth in her words. Looking at her, the magic he felt last night grew inside him again. But even so, he couldn’t help feeling a bit defensive.

“Fine. So I can choose...things,” he waved his hand airily. “What are you getting at?”

“Will you choose to live a full life with me?”

“A full life. What does that mean? Bouncing babies on my knees. Girl, I do not think I would make a good father.”

“Again, no imagination. How do you know?”

“My father was not the best role model,” he scowled, remembering his father’s heavy handed approach to raising children. Renchant had found a measure of safety and security cowering under his bed many a night.

“And you are trapped is it? Your father cast some magic spell on you, and you have no choice to be something other than what he was?”

“No. It wasn’t that, it’s just...” what was it? He had blocked the memories out for so long. Had buried them under the long years of magical study and not wanting to remember.

“Think it. Imagine it. Live it,” her hands counted to three in front of his face. “That’s how things get done.”

“What?”

“You want to have a happy marriage?” Her mind darted about like a humming bird in flight. Was it just her mind, or did all women do this?

“I want to be happy,” he said.

“Are you happy?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Your magic makes you happy?”

“It intrigues me. Challenges me. When I learn a new spell and can wield its power, I feel alive in ways I’ve never felt before. So... yes, I am happy.”

“I think you don’t know what happiness is.”

“And you do?”

“I think I know where to find it.”

“As my apprentice? My consort,” he smiled down at her.

She gave him an answering smile, and she slipped her hand into his. “You said all couples turned crusty and old and basically hated each other.”

“Seems that way to me.”

“I find that to be a rather large generalization,” she said looking up at him.

“Oh?”

“I’ve seen couples grow together into a unity so stunning it takes your breath away. And I’m not talking about the act of love making.”

Intrigued, he held her hand and looked down at her perfect face. The wind gusted past them and a few strands of dark hair pulled free of the intricate braid.

She didn’t seem to notice. She stared past him out the window and spoke quietly. “My mother and my father. They adored each other. They loved to be around each other. Every waking moment together was a joy to them. They had other interests of course, but they lived for each other...and that is the secret.”

“The secret to what?”

“To a happy marriage... but more than that. The secret to a happy life.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you didn’t seem to know it. You seem to be chasing after it in mouldy books and tomes and subterranean chasms when it is right in front of you--”

“My magic is real Tatyana. You saw it last night! It is real power. It’s that power that saved us.”

“Yes, I know. But is it real happiness?”

He blinked. “Who knows? We wouldn’t be having this conversation without it. That’s something to be happy about. In any case, philosophers have debated much what happiness is and where it comes from. Some say it’s from wealth, some say it’s from ease and luxury. Some from power.”

“What did you yearn for when you were a child when your father beat you?”

“I never said my father--”

“You didn’t have to. I saw the pain in your eyes.”

Stars, but she was perceptive. What had he yearned for? He swallowed and memory took him. Father slamming him against the wall. The fists slamming into him. Father looming over him, the wine thick on his breath. He remembered tasting blood and tears that pooled in the back of his throat.

He remembered feeling afraid to his core.

Renchant’s voice grew distant, a mere whisper that mixed with the wind. “I wanted him to hold me like other fathers did. To be proud of me. That’s why I tried so hard in my magic. I wanted him to appreciate me. To want me. To love me.” Rechant swallowed, and he felt her squeeze his hand.

“Did he?”

(50/50 | 3[d10]) No

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No... When I was fifteen I finally had had enough. It had gone on for years, him beating mother and me when he would come in at night in some drunken stupor, stinking of filth. But that year I discovered the power to stand up to him. The well of power I now wield became a possibility to me.”

Renchant remembered how the spell came to my mind, like words of fire. Mystic flames surrounding his hands. Father grabbing him. Renchant screaming in defiance. The flames flaring up. Father had staggered back, cursing, his arm and tunic aflame.

“I cast my first spell that night,” he whispered. “The look on Father’s face was not one of pride nor of love, but of shock, pain...betrayal--like he couldn’t believe his own son would do something like that to him.”

“I’m sorry,” she said and she leaned closer, and he felt glad for her comforting warmth.

“There was no acceptance, Tatyana. There was no love, only fear.” He remembered Father shrinking away from him as if Renchant had sprouted a score of horns and a hundred tentacles. “The same fear I felt when he stood over my bed each night, he felt towards me. I tried to tell him I didn’t mean to hurt him. But it was too late. That fear drove him away. He never came back.”

He couldn’t help but feel the sting of irony at those events. He felt a warm tear begin to freeze on his cheek.

“Philosophers don’t know everything,” Tatyana finally said. “Love and happiness are intermixed. There is no happiness without love. And I’m not talking about physical attraction. But love. True self-sacrificing love and commitment. That’s what my mother and father shared. That’s what you desired from your father. That’s what you and I can have.”

He stared at her, his mouth parted slightly. She looked back at him a serious expression on her face.

“You’d offer that to me?” he whispered, and he couldn’t hide the disbelief in his voice. He had only met her the night before...yet he had bared his soul to her, had told her things he’d never told anyone before.

In answer, Tatanya traced the side of his face with a hand that had begun to chill and kissed him gently. The expression of love bore no heat of passion, but the depth of devotion it contained startled him.

He enfolded her in his arms and pulled her close, breathing in her scent and felt a sweet silence settle about them, though the wind at his back swirled mocking flurries into the room. A protectiveness for her blossomed within him, a new flame that mingled with his desire and thrill for magic.

After some time, he pulled away. “Let’s go downstairs,” he said as he shut the window and latched out the cold.
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#47
(11-12-2021, 01:32 AM)Jingo Wrote: (I know when I started this game I said it wouldn't be narratively heavy, but sometimes the muse has other ideas.)

Nothing wrong with that :-)
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#48
A nice continuation of the Renchant/Tatyana storyline from the previous post.

We, as solo gamers, spend mere hours actually "rolling dice." The rest of our free time is spent pondering how we are going to turn those die rolls into an interesting post. That is from where this type of chapter comes.
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#49
(11-15-2021, 03:03 PM)Teviko604 Wrote: A nice continuation of the Renchant/Tatyana storyline from the previous post.
Thanks I'm glad you're enjoying it!

(11-15-2021, 03:03 PM)Teviko604 Wrote: We, as solo gamers, spend mere hours actually "rolling dice." The rest of our free time is spent pondering how we are going to turn those die rolls into an interesting post. That is from where this type of chapter comes.
A very true statement Teviko! Sometimes it's mere minutes on the dice rolls and hours on the pondering and writing. Smile
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