February 11, 2015

The Wednesday Night Pyro: Goodbye to the Gnome

The things that go on in my notebook, I swear...

That windy, stormy night, I slept long past my necessary four hours, an absolute luxury considering the past few days. Thoughts kept nagging at my mind as I slept, plaguing my rest with sounds and images only I was forced to cower in fear of alone in the clutches of my mind. 

And then, swift as a d20 to the back of my head, reality set in. The fatigue of a long Wednesday hit me like a well-rolled cantrip; I was at the weekly D&D table, back again with Lylien Ziandiel (the elfin pyro of the utmost awesomeness) and a team of equally interesting charac - er, people - but only when we have to be.

No mini scenarios or interesting table set-ups tonight;
Hope you like the multitude of dice shots I have on hand.
I hadn't been present the week before. Player absences are well-accepted at our table, since we all have lives to attend to, but this one left two drakes in the control of an absent elf. Nonetheless, the DM helped the table get the drakes under control (Invisible, mute, unresponsive elf...? No complaints.) and led my comrades into another near-death situation.

Yet, this one was different. When I walked in this week, I was met with desperate looks. "Thank goodness you're here!"; "You'll never believe what happened last week!"; "Do you know how to resurrect?"

I sat down at the table quietly with my pieces of pizza, dumbfounded. Apparently, everyone was unconscious, one set apart from the others, an outlier at -1 hit points. That was Tramdoodle Weathersponge, a rock gnome druid of curious name and...well, a gnome-load of power, which was absolutely not to be messed with. Rising from my less-helpful state, I was able to get everyone on the backs of the drakes under my control (More like befriended, just to clear it up) and make good speed for Greenest.

The following few days were of just sitting and waiting for me. I read up on spells, having strengthened since I had last been able to study. I memorized a few inscriptions and copied them into my book, satisfied with my new shows of power. Upon the second or third night of waiting, my friends - Finn Flintbread and "Ammo" - and I were greeted sorrowfully with the news of Tram having truly departed the mortal plane. Nighthill was immediately on the scene as well, passing on his condolences and properly dismissing us of our duties to him. (It hit us later that we were pawns of his poor planning, but that was when we were far enough away.)

"So, what would you guys like to do?" I snapped back into the realm of my physical existence and looked back at the shocked expressions of the table. The silence hung heavily on our shoulders. Tram was dead. Tram was dead. Tram was dead. We spent the next several minutes arguing over what to do about Tram. We soon realized that resurrection wouldn't be a likely option unless there was some miracle, and it was enough of one that the rest of us made it out alive. Eventually, we came to a consensus and buried Tram in the shade of a nice hill just outside of Greenest, continuing our journey.

"People die," Tram's player mused, "Everyone does. We've just got to move on." I had seen characters die maybe only twice in my years of playing, and we all fall back to the same conclusion. Everyone dies. We just hope for better rolls later.

The following days of travel, the DM recorded, were the worst of our lives. The wind struck and nipped at all of us, my elf's ears becoming the favorite target of the beginning of winter's wrath. We traveled through a hilly region with few options for shelter; The burnt-down, flattened buildings of Berdusk were a fantastic sight. And to our surprise, we found a survivor - the only one - in the inn: A halfling, no more than a teenager. 

With a short exchange of words and scribbled down character information, the new party member was born. Melody.

"Hello, there," Finn said quietly, kneeling down, "Are you alone?"


  1. Thank you for writing up something so awesome about Tram and tonight's D&D events. I'm sharing it on FB, hope that's okay :)

    1. The Rock Gnome Druid of Awesome will forever live on in our hearts. Thanks for sharing - the SEO analysis this morning picked it up. :)

  2. Delightful as usual even though I was lost most of the time lol. Lives that vibrated the most in my soul: " I was forced to cower in fear of alone in the clutches of my mind. " (Lovely and very emotional phrase), "I snapped back into the realm of my physical existence" (Brilliant description of the mental leaps between our gaming and real life collisions) and "Hello, there," Finn said quietly, kneeling down, "Are you alone?" (Pulled me right in and now I yearn to find out the rest of the story) The marks of a great writer: Phrases that resonate with your soul.
    Never stop. <3

    1. Haha, the D&D pantheon takes a little getting used to! Shoot me an e-mail or DM if you'd like anything explained. Check back next week for another segment! (Melody is a very interesting individual indeed.)


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