So Adam and Ian don’t feel like they play enough D&D. To rectify this, they started playing a text-based adventure with a couple of friends, still using the 5th edition framework. We thought it would be fun to clean up the transcripts of this adventure and start publishing it in weekly chapters here on the site. Let us know what you think, and please share around! If you missed Chapter 1, check it out here!
Disclaimer: This is the transcript of a text-based D&D game played over a period of 6 months. Bad language included. Picture based dice rolls/media omitted. Names changed to preserve anonymity. Goblin based violence frequent. You have been warned. If you missed Chapter 33, find it here!
DM: You are well provisioned with Bronan’s wilderness expertise and supplies, you are well defended by Constance and Faustus
DM: One of you roll two dice- a survival roll for navigation, and a d10 for me as well
Constance: ill do d10
DM: (I’ve pre-made a table for that, so I’m not cheating when something bad happens!)
DM: You spend the day uneventfully heading south- the desert lives up to its name. Above you, vultures circle. At night, eyes gleam in the diatnat dark, but nothing approaches closer than a few hundred yards
DM: The next day! Same again
Bronan: I’ll do survival
DM: You are pretty sure you were going in the right direction day 1 but shifting sands and dunes…hmm
Faustus: I’ll do the d10
Bronan: Oh shit, I got. 6 total
DM: It all seems to look the same. You are headed vaguely south
DM: In mid afternoon, in the trough between two dunes, you find the skeletons of three halflings, bones picked clean by vultures
DM: Two wear mail, one sun bleached robes
DM: You spot them from atop a nearby dune. They sear to have simply laid down and died
DM: Besh snorts and steps around awkwardly. The bones look old, dried from an age of harsh heat
Bronan: (I awkwardly pat constance on the shoulder) sorry constance, is there death ritual for halflings you want us to do?
DM: A light breeze blows a tumbleweed past you as you all state dumbfounded at the dead halfling trio
Faustus: Can I arcana check the bodies? I suspect they died of thirst, but just want to make sure nothing magical affected them as they are all together
DM: You don’t sense any magical auras or strangeness
DM: But the halfling who was wearing a robe is wearing a simple silver ring that is clearly magical
Faustus: Can I investigate that further? What would that be?
DM: Sure, give me one more arcana roll
DM: It’s a simple silver band, with an eye etched on one side, and the word ‘Desuno’ inscribed within
DM: You decking you’d need to attune to it by focusing on it overnight, but after that it should work. Doesn’t appear to be cursed
Faustus: Constance, these are your people. I think you should have this.
DM: But yes, these halflings seem to have starved to death, and then bones picked clean by bugs and birds. As you stand in the brutal heat of the dune valley, you understand how. In every direction, sand and sparse dry red grass. The sun seemingly fixed at one point in the sky above you
Constance: no Faustus, I cannot take from those who have died.
Constance: please, you should take it
Constance: (I’ve already got heaps of magic stuff)
Faustus: (I’ve got a fancy hat, what does Bronan have?)
DM: (a ray of frost…amulet I think?)
Bronan: (swapped it for the hat)
Bronan: (also, unless we brought alcohol with us, Bronan might be starting withdrawal by now as I’ve been supping on the axe ale for a while)
DM: (the birdmen actually gave you a mini keg of aaracokra grass based ale, which is in the cart)
Constance: (in that case…)
Constance: a drink to these poor souls! *raises glass*
Bronan: *Bronan pokes sir dribbles and tries to distract him from the tasty looking bones* no sir dribbles, these might be aunt constance’s cousins or something
Faustus: *raise glass* and I hand the ring to Bronan. “Here Bronan, this should fit on your pinky finger”
Bronan: Yes! Good idea constance *raises Cup* thank you Faustus, it pretty, it have funny word on it
DM: Roll a d100 for me
DM: As you out the ring on, you feel it squeeze painfully tight around your finger then slightly relax
DM: 34? Great. You feel a vague sense of unease, but it soon passes
DM: What are you guys up to? Its late afternoon. You’d normally walk a few more hours before setting up camp
Bronan: (any rocks to build a cairn?)
DM: Noooope. Just sand.
Bronan: We could take em in the wagon, find good place to bury?
Constance: i think we should leave them where they are
Constance: there is nought that we can do for them now
Bronan: Ok, I make ancient grave sign of tribe (I write in the sand “we were waiting for half-life 3” in giant)
Faustus: I enjoy the number of levels that works on.
Bronan: (we rolling on til camp time?)
Bronan: (Fuck it, Besh doesn’t like it here, let’s roll on I guess)
DM: two dice- a survival roll for navigation, and a d10 for me as well
DM: For the next day
Constance: ill survival i spose
DM: Bronan, overnight you have terrible nightmares about beaks pecking at you
Bronan: (his bond is having awful visions when he sleeps, are they out of the ordinary?)
DM: Yeah, normally you have visions of the world splitting asunder. Last night, you dreamt of being eaten alive by beaks
DM: Okay, 12
DM: So a d10 from someone please!
DM: In fact you think you are only a few hours walking from the oasis as it gets to evening
DM: So, as you start slowing down and getting ready to set up camp for a night, you all stop short
DM: From the deathly stillness of days in the desert, a Gale of wind blasts across you from the south
DM: And on the horizon a wall of sand rises, blotting the sky
DM: You have 3 rounds before it hits your group. what do you do?!
Bronan: Any shelter/rockfaces pointing away from it?
DM: You are on top of a dune ridge that goes north to south. Storm is coming from the west
DM: Besh starts freaking out a bit instantly when the wind picks up
Bronan: (I have an idea but not sure if others have one that might not kill us)
DM: (you guys can talk like this out of game if you like. In game, you have three rounds each before a wall of sand hits)
Constance: (does anyone have a rope? we could throw ourselves into bedrolls, which are like sleeping bags right? and lash ourselves to the cart?)
Bronan: (ok, so, my idea is to tip the cart on its side at the top of the ridge, hide on the lee side with a tarp/something covering us, that way the cart should block the wind and won’t push the sand dune on top of us)
Constance: thats also good
Bronan: (Constance’s idea is probably less likely to kill us though, cause I can never remember if you want to be focused into the wind or away to stop sand building up over your shelter)
Constance: (ok, so tip the cart is good but do we have some coverings?
Bronan: (we do want to try to save Besh though, I don’t fancy schlubbing this cart through the desert)
Constance: yeah no shit, I’m sure we could get her in there
DM: You have 18 seconds, remember
Bronan: (does the cart have a tarp currently over the top?)
Bronan: Ok, I’m gonna yell “constance or Faustus , grab besh and get her ready to hide behind the cart, I’m going to tip it to give us some shelter
Bronan: And then try to tip the cart
DM: Okay, we are into it! Strength check bronan
Faustus: I’ll grab besh
Bronan: Do I still have inspiration? Cause I’m not raging and would like advantage on this!
DM: Hold on faustus
DM: Yeah bronan you have advantage
Bronan: Thank the Lord, got an 11 and a 21, 21 is what I’m going with
DM: With a mighty heave you flip the cart, facing its base towads the oncoming storm
DM: Faustus you are grabbing Besh? Your call- straight strength, animal handling, or intimidation
Bronan: Then I hop into shelter and wrap myself in my bearskin cloak, taking care to ensure sir dribbles is safe
Faustus: I’ll go strength. 19 total.
DM: Alright you manage to wrench Besh’s harness and get her under your control. You can move as well
Faustus: Pull her with me into the shelter
DM: Okay, constance?
Constance: ok, i dive in behind the cart too
Constance: (we do NOT have the equipment for this)
Bronan: (I’m rolling a druid next!)
Bronan: (not that I think it would help, but hey ho)
DM: Okay, you have two rounds left before it hits. Anything else you want?
Constance: I’d like to wrap a tear of cloth from my spare set of clothes around my mouth and nose
Bronan: Im gonna try to brace a javelin so it sticks upward
DM: Yup and yup
Constance: Same with my staff
Constance: “GOOD IDEA BRONAN!”
DM: That’s you done then Constance, that’s two actions
DM: Bronan you have time for one more. Faustus 2 more
Faustus: I’ll do javelin and cloth too.
Faustus: Actually not javelin. Can I brace against the cart with my shield?
Bronan: I’m gonna tuck my bedroll over Besh and then do the cloak snuggle wrap (don’t want nipped chafe from the sand storm
Bronan: Or if it’s just one. The cloak wrap
DM: Yup faustus
DM: And bronan, just the cloak wrap
DM: The storm descends
DM: Darkness and noise. Almost nothing is visible, even if you could bear to open your eyes
DM: The wind is a constant scream, and you can feel the cart strain
DM: I need a group strength check, with at least two of you reaching 15, as the storm starts to lift the cart
Bronan: I got a 6, so no pressure
Faustus: I got a 22.
Constance: Oh no
Constance: I rolled a 3
Constance: And I have -1 to strength
Constance: BUT INSPIRATION BITCHES
DM: the cart wrenches free of your grip and flips off, instantly lost from sight, your supplies scattered to the storm. Besh hunkers into the sand pressing herself flat
DM: What do you do? You are all somewhat braced against the storm, except faustus who was pressing into the cart with his shield
DM: So actually, faustus, Dex save please chum
Faustus: You piece of shit
DM: You are fine, you manage to dig your shield into the sand and hunker down
DM: And now the long run continues
DM: It takes four hours for the storm to pass over you. There is no relent, no possible calm or pause, and then suddenly…it is past you
DM: Constitution saving throws for all of you
Faustus: Urgghh. 6.
DM: Faustus, you feel…weak
DM: Tired beyond imagining
DM: Finally, the storm passes. It is the sea of night and you realise the wind is a little softer, the sand stings less and less
DM: Finally you see starlight
DM: You are all almost buried in sand. Besh shakes sand from her coat and struggles to stand. The cart, wrecked, is a hundred feet away. Some of your supplies are on the surface of the sand, half buried, but much of your food and miscellany is lost to the endless sand
DM: It’s night time
Bronan: I dig myself and my cohorts out, speak with animals and ask Besh to sniff out the water casks
DM: Alright. In which case make me an investigation check with advantage due to your camel helper
Bronan: (Bronan is no sleuth really, might almost be better to use the camels stats…)
Bronan: 7 was the highest
DM: You find one barrel, which only has a small remnant of its contents. The other barrel is nowhere to be seen
DM: You think the Slow Death oasis is maybe one more day south. You should really have hit it by now, but hey
Constance: Damn. We shall have to ration gentlemen.
DM: You have enough supplies for two days, perhaps. You should be at the oasis within a few hours walk. It’s currently the dead of night, but you are all shattered by the experience of weathering the store
DM: Resting til the next morning?
Bronan: I’m happy with that
DM: Grand, you rest til morning
DM: As dawn illuminates the desert, from the top of the dunes you can see a smudge of green that must be Slow Death oasis
Come back next Monday for Chapter 35 of The Cursed Tomb!
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