How 11/21/16 D&D Session ended..



Though your eyes are bound against the bright light of the surface, some light form the sun stabs through the cloth, stabbing into your brain like ethereal daggers.  Though the light must be very bright, there is no warmth to it.  You can smell burning sulphur and decay, the ground slick and spongy beneath your feet. Perhaps most alarming of all though, is the sound.  No birds sing, no insects buzz.  As you emerge from the shattered mine tunnel, the utter, complete silence batters you, almost knocking you back.  The sound of your own steps, as you shuffle through the boggy ground is muffled to be nearly imperceptible, and the air is so very, very thick.


As the sun sets, you carefully, slowly remove the bandages protecting your eyes from the light of the surface world, wincing even at the dim twilight from the stars and rising moon.  The world you left, just days ago, when you went to investigate the claims of the dwarves and gnomes, is gone.  Just over the horizon, in the direction of Centerholm, a sickly greenish glow flickers, reflected on the clouds hanging in the sky.  The sky itself looks gangrenous, with a yellowish green cast to the stars.  You trudge toward town, taking in the devastation of the land around you.  Some trees are burnt to cinders, some are blasted, yet crackle with electricity, as if they’d absorbed a lightning strike and are gradually releasing the energy back into the air.  You pass a farm, where the fields have decayed to a foul smelling sludge, and the livestock are dead, as if partially dissolved in acid.  The one sign of life you see is a barn cat in profile, which mewls evilly, then turns toward you, revealing half of its face warped, sprouting tentacles where its whiskers should be, the eye on that side glowing with a pustulent yellow light.


As the road carries you to within sight of Centerholm, the source of the flickering glow is revealed.  Shattered buildings lay across the streets, while green flames die down in the ruins of some of the houses.  The spires and central tower of the library stand shattered, thrusting into the sky like the talons of the dead, clawing their way out of their graves.  Nothing moves.  Nothing breathes.  Nothing cries out for help.


You cast around the wreckage, and manage to find a room that has not been completely collapsed.  You salvage enough from the wrecked town to lay down some bedding and make camp for the night, resting your weary bones.  As you bed down and drift off to sleep, not even bothering with keeping watch, you hear the sound of great leathered wings overhead, and a loud thud, as something very large comes to ground.  A mournful, sad cry of rage shakes the walls of your shelter as whatever it is roars its sorrow over the devastation.  You rush outside, weapons in hand, and see a massive dragon in the center of the town square, the firelight reflecting green from its bright golden scales, tears of flame falling from its eyes to burn the shattered flagstones below.  It turns its massive head, the size of a wagon toward you, and opens its eyes, sapphire irises with pupils glowing the pure white of a winter’s full moon, and prepares to speak.


Back to “Reality”

Our return to the land where the veils were falling, and the beginning of our characters becoming dual-classed, starts in tonight’s game.

Here’s the intro (by my husband):

You wake,  stone cold and hard against your back, a moment of claustrophobic panic passes as you realize you are not, in fact, buried alive.  You move, weakly, muscles soft, joints stiff from untold time, sleeping in your cell. You brush your hand across the top of your bare head, and some kind of fibrous material lets go of your scalp, and you feel some of it pulling away from beneath your skin.  You crawl out of your alcove, so see your friends emerging slowly from theirs.  You get yourself to your feet, achingly, slowly, and are buffeted by a wave of hunger which brings you back to your knees.  Only through sheer force of will do you mange to stand.  It is cold.


As you regain your senses, you find yourselves in large, open cavern, shaped like an ampitheatre.  What little light there is comes from glowing blue cave mosses and sickly yellow luminescent slime dripping down the walls, casting the cavern in a dim, gangrenous light.


The cavern looks to have been carved from the bedrock, with a long, 10 foot wide path spiraling out from a 40 foot area in the center of the room.  Along this spiraling path around the cavern, are equally spaced horizontal alcoves, each one approximately 3 feet in diameter, dug approximately 8 feet into the wall of the cavern.


In the center of this place, a large, broken, glass cylinder, leaks a viscous, foul smelling fluid.  The floor of the central area below you is covered about 6 inches deep with it.  When the cylinder was intact, this fluid supported the weight of a large brain, sprouting tendrils of nervous tissue out from the vessel, and into each of the occupied alcoves.  That brain now sits, tilted between the bottom of the tank and what remains of its wall.  Even now, you can see it decaying, desiccating where exposed to the air, dissolving where still submerged in its encephalic fluid.


Around the ampitheatre are dozens of bodies.  Some lie in groups, some solitary, sprouting bolts from crossbows.  Here and there, are remains that have been rendered unrecognizeable, blasted  against the walls, shattered against the stone.  A great battle has obviously been fought, with terrifying weapons used by both sides. Illithid and Drow corpses account for most of the carnage, though smaller, dark skinned, eyeless humanoids are scattered here and there.  The bodies that remain in the alcoves are largely untouched, but for one section, which has been completely emptied of its occupants.

StartFragmentYour arms and equipment have been taken from you, you are clothed in scraps, barely enough for decency but not enough for warmth, and you are starving and cold.  Your first priority is warmth, then food, then surviving the trip back to the surface, and Centerholm.  Anything beyond that is, for now, wishful thinking.

Come on over and “watch” us play if you like, beginning 7pm EST
Click here for Tribizzle’s Stream

D&D Dreamworld Begins 1-17-16

When last we saw our courageous champions….
The party saw the mage who had joined our party have his brains sucked out. We all fell into a stupor and in fits and spurts of consciousness became vaguely aware that we are somewhere “other” some strange cavern ridden with alcoves in which we have been stowed-with something attached to our heads…
BUT, we don’t remember that…or who we were…or what we were doing. The DM has asked us to create new characters. Same stats, new class.

So, here’s what we DO know about our new reality:

“Each of you has grown up in the regions around Hillsfar, on the southern edge of the Moonsea.  As you all came of age, you gravitated toward the city from your villages and farms, seeking your fortunes, gradually coming together as an adventuring group.  While you are registered and authorized to operate along the southern coast of the Moonsea, you are currently indentured to the City of Hillsfar.  There was an incident involving a Merchant House and some Zhentarim and some double crossing, mistaken identity stuff almost a year ago where the City had to intervene on your behalf, to prevent your summary execution by that Merchant House.  You have been non-voluntary agents of the City since that day, with your freedom almost at hand.  There is one last task ahead of you, before you are granted autonomy once again.

The City of Hillsfar has been actively engaging with the Dalelands in securing the trade routes around and through the Cormanthor Forest.  They have each agreed to maintain small settlements one day’s journey apart, for the use of caravans and other travellers along the established roads.  Several days ago, travellers stopped arriving on the Western road into Hillsfar, with reports of the nearby settlement having come to some misfortune, making the road impassible.  You have been assigned the task of investigating the way-village, and if within your abilities, reclaiming it.

The settlement is one day’s journey along the western road, within sight of the ruins of Zhentil Keep, the site of a long ago battle between the forces of Cyric the now imprisoned god of Strife, and a local resistance made up of the peoples of the surrounding areas.  That battle was many years ago, before most of you were born, and the ruins have been quiet, besides the occasional visit by treasure seekers and adventurers.”


Who we were and are now

For those of you who have been watching us play, the party is made up of:

My husband Rob is the Dungeon Master. The stories are his.

Jainella Milner the Dragonborn Druid —> Neelba Jellybottle the Forest Gnome Cleric

Bob the Human Barbarian —> the Paladin who isn’t showing up today

Alwyn Connor (Josh/Dragxis) the Elven Fighter —> Alwyn the Wood Elf Monk

Selena Meyer (9of12) the Human Bard —> Bettie Hearthsage the Halfling Sorcerer

Bizzle the Human Ranger —> Monkizzle the Wood Elf Monk

Nala (sweetandspicay) the Dragonborn Sorcerer —> Nala the Dragonborn Ranger

Dice Pouches!

Well, the dice pouches I had on commission at the #LCBS (That’s Local Comic Book Store for those of you who aren’t that brand of nerd) finally sold. Apparently, folks are asking for them now! I took some in today and the owner bought All 4! This pic is before I got all the drawstrings in:


I also made my son Fletcher’s. He is starting a D&D club at school and wanted a purple one:purplepouch

Tribizzle said he wants one, even though he doesn’t have real dice (yet…he’s so hooked on D&D now it’s only a matter of time). I suspect he’ll fancy the silver dragons…

Dungeons & Dragons

So, Rob (my husband) and I have been using to play D&D with some folks we met online for a while now. Crazily enough the DM was from PEI (where Rob’s from). Unfortunately that gentleman had to bow out after a few sessions and hasn’t been able to return.

Well, Rob stepped up and has been running a fine campaign. A couple of our original gamers are still in with us, 2 are folks we met in World Of Warcraft that live out in the western US I believe. One is a streamer I invited late one night (he’s from England), another is his buddy from Ireland.

The streamer Tribizzle has started streaming our Sunday night (8EST) games. It’s loads of fun, we draw (terribly) our encounters. This is a flying ship we were using for a while:Screen Shot 2015-12-06 at 10.13.08 PM

It’s been interesting to see the variety of reactions to it. Some folks are like what the HELL is this?! and leave, others get nostalgic for when they used to play tabletop RPGs (I’m sure we have contributed to some boost to use of, and some people have become interested enough to seek out and find their own games. One of those people is playing IRL now, and joining us online this week!

Anyhow, there’s a handful of stream followers who are actually looking forward to watching us now. I’m posting now to get them some info, and get it to others who are asking a lot of questions in the stream chat about the world we are playing in and what has happened so far.

I don’t use this blog much, so pardon me if the formatting is lacking. Continue reading

The Work

Yep. I have a job.

A real one…in that I get paid for it. I’ve been of course working hard as a full time mother of three boys and doing the wife thing (CFO, CEO, etc of McCrady NC Household). I’ve been an activist with the Democratic Party at precinct, county, district, and state level….does being a delegate count as national level? Listing the committees and positions is long and boring and would probably seem conceited. Suffice it to say it is nifty and new to be paid to do the Good Work I’ve been so dedicated to for so long now.

I’m trying to help, as a Regional Field Director, to elect Billy Kennedy for Congress in NC-5

Great candidate! Lousy incumbent (Virginia Foxx) we’re trying to unseat. Great team/staff, good plan with substantial numbers.

The challenge, to motivate volunteers in Iredell county. It’s hot. It’s summer vacation. I ❤ Billy, but he’s not Barack Obama-so the vols aren’t exactly beating at the door. This job is harder than all the volunteering I’ve done-put together. Convincing folks to vote is difficult enough it seems, and getting them to volunteer to go ask others to also vote? Whew. It seems that few people feel as responsible to take part in government/politics as I do. I will keep pushing this rock up this hill…don’t you worry.

Elsewhere in my life, I’m going to have to try and find the time to Etsy or something. The local gallery that was handling the jewelry I make on consignment has changed their business model. Now it will be a co-op and I don’t see how I’d ever make around $200 a month to share their bills for the storefront to sell a bit of jewelry each month. I had to mark stuff up like crazy because it was 60/40 to begin with! 😦  It was nice to have my little hobby going so nicely, being at the art crawl and in the gallery and making a little money to buy more materials…but self-marketing is time consuming so that whole thing might wait until after the current election (November!) season. We’ll see what happens.

How cool is it that Charlotte is in the running for the DNC!!!???!! I think our newly blue state with our new Dem Governor in Charlotte just HAS to have a really really good chance at this thing. I look forward to being involved.

OK. There. I blogged. I really have to find time to do this more often….but, well, saving the world is SO time consuming 🙂