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ferrous-ironclaw · 1 month

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Thank you Larian Studios for providing the most tense experience of my recent gaming career.

It only took two attempts, the first one crashed and burned about eight hours in due to a softlock due to a bugged dialogue, and almost put me off trying again. But the second attempt flew past at breakneck pace.

My squad was Gale (Divination Wizard, for guaranteeing those critical CC spells), Karlach (Tavern Brawler Open Hand Monk, for quite possibly the highest DPR in the game), Shadowheart (Light Cleric Spell-Tank abusing Radiating Orb) and Anja, my PC (Halfling Lore Bard who talked their way out of every sticky situation Karlach couldn't punch).

Potential BG3 & Honour mode spoilers below:

Honorable mentions to Astarion, the incredible flying Owlbear (who helped me beat Grym by leaping from the top rope and doing an incredible 200 damage) and Jaheira, who helped me buff to avoid certain one-shot thresholds in the later game.

Honestly, I think I spent too much time prepping for this challenge. All the way back in Act 1, I was making choices to ensure I had access to certain allies and options later on in Act 3 to avoid difficult checks (like recruiting Yurgir for the Raphael fight) only to end up... not really needing them. Act 1 had some of the toughest fights by far, and making sure I hit the right thresholds for XP was really important. I remember tiptoeing through the Goblin Camp, hunting for shreds of XP to hit the right level to face the Goblin Leadership, only to end up being caught out and having to brute force my way through several fights. Inquisitor W'worgaz required a whole setup to ensure I could kill him in 2 rounds, but after he fell and I sauntered into Act 2 with the Blood of Lathander and Adamantine Scalemail for Shadowheart, I was feeling pretty confident.

I talked the three Thorms to death, fireballed some plants and blundered the portal fight (Sorry Halsin!) before finally rocking up to Catacombs and taking on the Trials of Shar. I cheesed Balthazar by using Knock on his door (and treating myself to a cutscene where the only member in range of the trigger was my Quasit, who looked very bewildered by the whole encounter) and the rest was a breeze. Even Ketheric fell over to Karlach's punches, and the final phase of the Illithid colony turned out to be pretty easy when I realised I could tank 99% of the Avatar of Myrkul's damage and negate his healing just by having Karlach stand in range with her Necrotic resistance and 20 AC, and having Gale haste himself and cast Bone Chill every round. Sucks to be beat at your own game, huh Myrkul?

Act 3 swiftly turned into a collect-a-thon as I scooped up the last few powerful items I needed to make endgame builds. Lorroakan never got a chance to cast a spell thanks to two characters with counterspell, and with Markoheshkir and the Weave set, Gale became the ultimate hobo wizard capable of blowing up pretty much any threat. Level 11 brought Globe of Invulnerability and turned some of my biggest fears (House of Grief, Gortash & Raphael) into steamrolls where I didn't even take a single point of damage, and never saw a single hostile action. Viconia De'vir spent her entire lifespan being Black Hole'd into a Wall of Fire/Black Tentacles/Silence combo that rendered her impotent, new Legendary actions and all. Gortash got one round of throwables in before Karlach turned his face into a grey paste with the aid of six attacks per round, and Raphael? Oh brother. Using all the explosives I could find in Felogyr's basement, I collapsed all his pillars and then stomped him into the ground with Stunning Strike and Tasha's Hideous Laughter.

Orin came close to ruining my run through my own hubris - She managed to out-initiative my party by quite a lot and land smack bang on top of my Danse Macabre ghouls... blowing them all up and causing a huge chunk of friendly fire to Gale, who went down to bleed before his turn came up. Fortunately, some well placed potion throws and a haste bottle brought both Gale & Globe of Invulnerability up, and upcast Magic Missile did the rest.

The walk to the brain didn't bother me, even though I did forget about Voss' ambush if you don't free Orpheus, because by that point I was so stacked with items anything without the ability to deny CC would just turn into oh-so-much chunky pulp whenever I looked at them. When the time came to fight the Netherbrain, I hesitated... the pressure of losing my run to the Brain's turn timer was terrifying, and I didn't want to take that risk.

So that was when the contingency I'd been planning from Day 1 came in.

I'd been romancing Gale. Primarily to get to see his scenes and how he was as a romantic partner, but also because it lowered the DC to persuade him to detonate the orb to a 25, with advantage. I had no re-rolls left, but thanks to my Halfling race, a natural 1 was unlikely. With all my buffs & stats, I needed a 3+ to succeed, and when that total came up with a 33 I knew I never needed to worry.

And just like that, Gale of Waterdeep sacrificed himself, and the golden dice were mine.

Thank you, Larian Studios. And thank you Gale. You're the best.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #gale of waterdeep #honour mode

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otterlyart · 2 years

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🗺 ✨

(the first emoji is a little different but I'm assuming you meant the map!)

🗺️ Favourite location they visited?

The Blooming Grove. I enjoyed a lot of places in the Wildemount, but this beautiful little graveyard took the cake. There was just something so comforting about a place that treated death like an old friend and not something to fear. In the wise words of a popular tiktok.

I want to go to there.

✨ Favourite M9 spell?

Caleb cast a lot of sexy spells (counterspell i’m looking at you) but nothing made me quite as feral as his wall of fire across the surface of a ship. Honest to god one of the wildest initiations of combat I’ve ever seen. AND IT WAS RIGHT BEFORE A TWO WEEK BREAK.

The picture says it all.

#pawthorn #replies #cr2 spoilers #cr2spoilers #critical role campaign 2

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cicidarkarts · 4 months

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Blood Defied - 14: Dragon Attack

< Previous Chapter | Chapter List | Next Chapter (Coming soon!) >

“Confringo!”

Sebastian's incantation came out as an enraged growl. The fiery curse exploded between the group of goblins. Two went flying; the other two teleported out of the way. The head goblin rushed at Credence with his sword raised. A swipe caught her automatic Protego, flinging his arm back.

From the other side, she heard Ominis engaging the other two goblins. His wind charm blasted one of the goblins into the rocky cliffs. Despite Anne's pain, she pushed through and cast a strong Bombarda. Sebastian's Descendo took two goblins to the ground at once. One recovered so fast that he was a blur of dark colors. His sword sliced Sebastian, cutting through his jacket.

Sebastian didn't even wince as blood stained his clothes. He fired back with a blazing Incendio. Credence took aim at the head goblin before he could recover and hit him with an Arresto Momentum. Sebastian threw the other goblin into his leader's frozen body.

Ominis easily deflected one of the swords with his perfect Protego. He used the energy to cast a Stunner at the second, who had gotten a bit too close to Anne. Anne hit the first with a frigid Glacius just as he regained his footing from the Protego knockback.

Credence and the others drew closer, their wands at the ready. The goblins were gritting their teeth and breathing heavily.

“Tell me how to heal Anne,” demanded Sebastian. “Or I swear to God—” “Foolish boy. Even if there was a cure, you think I'd tell you?”

Credence's heart sunk. But Sebastian's fury rose. He fired another Confringo at the goblins. They teleported in a puff of smoke, scattering along the beach. Sebastian followed the head goblin and summoned him forward. The goblin muttered the counterspell and dropped to the ground.

Credence cast Levioso on her opponent, watching Ominis and Anne from the corner of her vision. One of their goblin opponents teleported behind Ominis. The other was already taking aim. Ominis wouldn't be able to turn in time. The goblin behind him raised his sword. Credence launched her opponent at him. Both goblins hit the ocean, dropping beneath the waves in a large splash.

The leader reached into his pocket and produced a small, black whistle with a row of ridges down its back. Sebastian took aim as the goblin blew the whistle. The piercing screech that filled the air was stopped short by Sebastian's slicing attack. The goblin staggered upon his feet, huffing and panting. His cold eyes met Sebastian's.

“Good luck. You'll need it.”

With that, four plumes of smoke took the goblins away.

Anne screamed and howled in excruciating pain. She doubled over, clutching her stomach and chest. Ominis held onto her.

“Anne!” He grabbed her shoulders, but then he gazed skyward, his wide eyes wavering in terror. “Something's coming!”

They paused. Credence listened hard but couldn’t hear anything. Ominis tried to drag Anne to her feet and off the rocks.

“We need to get out of here,” said Sebastian.

The moment he took a step, a thunderous clap assaulted Credence’s ears. Then a vicious roar rumbled through the sky. She faced the noise as a shadow engulfed them. An enormous figure blotted out the sun, its wings outstretched. The beast tore toward them with unparalleled speeds. A stream of fire spewed from its maw.

Sebastian and Credence used their Protego to hold the flames off. Lava-like lashes whipped and flickered along the sides of their shield. The heat burned her dominant hand.

“Get Anne out of here!” screamed Sebastian. He struggled against the wall of fire, heels digging into the ground as the force threatened to shove them down.

The shields were at their limit, searing and thick with magic. Not even Protego Maxima could hold the fire back. But when the monster's feet hit the sand and shook the earth beneath them, its flame stopped. The overwhelming power within their shields burst with mighty Stunners. But each bounced off the scales of the ferocious beast like pebbles.

Before them, a black dragon stood poised for attack. It stretched its serpentine neck toward the sky and roared. There was a collar upon it, thick and black like the goblin armor, radiating a sanguine magic. Anne could barely move. Credence heard Ominis urging her to get up, but all Anne could do was cough and moan in agony.

“Bombarda!” called Sebastian, casting at the collar.

Bombarda exploded but neither the collar nor the dragon flinched. It lurched forward, teeth gnashing, jaws snapping. Credence flourished and cast Glacius to freeze the inside of its mouth. It flinched back, pawing at its face with a gigantic wing. At the same time, it swung its tail like a battering ram.

Sebastian snagged Credence around the back of the neck and took her to the ground. The tail boomed overhead like a gunshot and a rush of air forced them deeper into the sand. The dragon whirled around, sloshing through the water. It stopped, eyes upon Anne as Ominis finally got her to her feet. When it saw Anne, it scrambled toward her, screeching and snarling.

“No!” cried Sebastian. He swiped his wand through the air and cast, “Diffindo!”

Three slashes raced toward the dragon and clawed at its sensitive wing. But it barely slowed down.

Credence and Ominis cried, “Confringo!”

Ominis’ hit the dragon in the throat and hers hit just under the wing. It was enough to make the dragon recoil and stagger. Sebastian rushed to Anne. He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her toward the valley leading back to town.

The dragon swiped a massive wing at them. Ominis was knocked face-first into the sand with a loud thud. Sebastian shoved Anne out of the way. The wing connected with his torso, sending him flying into the cliff. He gripped the bloody slash mark on his stomach as more blood spewed across his hand. He grit his teeth and failed to swallow down an agonized moan.

Credence tried to use something— anything! But all of her attacks were useless: Confringo, Depulso, even Galinn Glacius did nothing to stop the dragon. It still stared at Anne, bloodlust filling its gaze, set upon her like a rabid beast. Sebastian and Ominis had gotten to their feet. Their spells exploded off the dragon’s scales, doing nothing but infuriating it.

The dragon reared back, gulping down air, preparing to erupt once again. Sebastian stood with his wand raised against the unstoppable beast. Ominis stayed in front of Anne, protecting her as she coughed and sputtered and cried in pain upon the ground. Neither of them were a match for a dragon but both stood strong, ready to face death.

Credence knew there was one thing she hadn't tried yet. One thing that would work, that could save her bleeding and battered friends. Her racing heart slowed as she prepared her transfiguration. She wouldn't let them die, even if that meant they would see her as the monster she is.

In the blink of an eye, her body contorted and twisted—elongating, growing. She hissed at the dragon who halted its attack. The gem on her head flashed, entrancing the beast. She swayed, leading it toward her while her coils tugged her friends together. Her body protected them, pushing against their clothes and skin, Sebastian's blood trickling down her scales. Anne called her name, weak and frail between coughs. Credence nudged them toward the path.

“Run!” she hissed. “Credence…?” said Sebastian, a shock and muteness in his voice like she'd never heard from him. “Run!” Ominis reiterated. “She wants us to run!”

Just as they made a break for it, the dragon snapped out of its momentary trance. When its eyes locked onto her friends, Credence lunged for its throat. Its long neck slithered out of the way. Needle-like teeth jabbed into the back of her neck. She couldn't hold onto her hissing yelp of pain.

She looked to Ominis and the others, ensuring they were out of the way. Sebastian was dragging Ominis up the valley. Their faces were contorted in fear—pale, clenched teeth, wide and glossy eyes. Fear directed at the dragon, not at her, unlike—

Her mind's eye flashed Anaba's wide, horrified stare; gazing as though she were a great evil prepared to kill in an instant. Those striking hazel eyes filled with terror churned her stomach. But that was not Ominis; not Sebastian nor Anne.

Credence wrapped her coils around the dragon and squeezed as hard as she could. Spines dug into her stomach. With a crack, the beast let her go. She whirled her head around and snagged the dragon's wing in her mouth. Her fangs tore through its hard scales and she forced acrid venom into the limb.

The dragon ripped at her with its back claws, slicing open her flesh. She fell, briefly bashing into the sand before shooting back up. The dragon seemed hellbent on attacking her friends—on going after Anne and the familiar dark magic within her. It staggered up the path, scraping its useless wing along the ground.

Credence struck at its back but her teeth couldn't penetrate. The dragon's tail whipped her face. She snagged it in her mouth and bit down, injecting more venom. Flames inundated her as the dragon tried to free itself. Her magic-resistant scales shielded her from the intense heat, making it feel like the Wyoming summer sun bore down on her.

“Credence!” Anaba called, smiling bright in her mind. “You're a muggle-born? That's so awesome, so am I!”

Then another memory assaulted her, filling her ears with a young Anaba's sobs. A white boy stood over her, mocking her for being lowbred, a muggle spawn, a mistake, an Indian.

Credence stepped in even then, as her child voice yelled, “Leave her alone!”

Anaba gave as good as she got, defending Credence against prejudiced attacks. “An eye for an eye,” she’d teased, her brilliant smile gleaming. “We get enough crap in the muggle world, don't you think?”

Credence pinned the dragon to the cliffside with her horns and it thrashed and snapped at them. One solid kick threw Credence into the ocean waters, splashing the salty water up the shoreline, dyeing the sand crimson.

The dragon rushed up the path, carving through dirt and rocks in its clumsy wake, that wing and tail dragging heavy behind. Credence slithered after it, shooting streams of venom at the beast. It didn't slow it down. The venom that lay upon its back couldn't get through those tough, keeled scales.

It was going to reach Feldcroft soon. Credence darted toward it, charging with speeds that burned her unblinking eyes. She latched onto the dragon's throat. It roared skyward as a coppery flavor seeped into Credence’s mouth. Spells were shot in their direction, hitting the dragon and her as she instinctively coiled around it to squeeze out its life. Fire and ice and lightning seared her flesh. She injected venom into the dragon. It retaliated by whirling its serpentine neck around and clamping down on her chest. Its fangs pierced deep into her sensitive underbelly.

She cried out, releasing the dragon and trying to tear away from the assault. But the dragon had her tight. With half of its body useless, it refused to relinquish its only method of defense. Spells peppered her body in tandem, blasting her underbelly and sending shocks of pain throughout her.

“Don't hurt her!” Anne's distant voice screamed through terror and tears. “Confringo!” came both of the boys’ attacks.

They hit the dragon in the face, one fiery explosion in each eye. It released her. Blood cascaded down her chest, hot and wet, thick as it spattered the ground. So many punctures leaked down her front. She writhed and her coils unraveled from the dragon's collapsing body. Her muscles gave out. Frigid wind rushed past her head as she fell backwards. She couldn't move, couldn't stop her descent.

She hit a body of water, then a gravely bottom. Pond water streaked skywards. As her animagus form failed her, transfiguring her back to small human Credence, the icy water fell upon her in heavy raindrops. It covered her up to the ears, dulling the sounds of the dragon being subdued by the town.

Through the ice, Credence felt something hot burning her flesh. Her chest and stomach were on fire. A trembling, heavy hand reached for her wounds, dousing her frozen fingers in boiling hot liquid. Her heart was so tired it couldn't react when she saw her pale hand dripping crimson.

She was going to die. Whether it was true or not, her mind resigned her to it. She would die here in this pond. But at least her friends were safe. At least Ominis was safe. Thudding footsteps reached her muffled ears.

“Credence!” called Ominis’ voice. The sound graced her ears and flooded her with ecstasy.

Water sloshed as he ran up to her. He drenched his knees when he knelt beside her. She could barely see his face, blurry eyes struggling to make sense of blonde, peach, and striking blue. She focused on the dark brown beauty marks flecking his face, allowing his bleary features to come into view.

“Credence, oh my God,” he called, voice shaking and body trembling.

His hand touched her chest, then he ripped it away. As his face came into focus, she saw the color leave his cheeks. Her blood dripped off his hand. His blue eyes were wide in panic. He grabbed her again, lifting her head from the frozen pond.

“Ominis,” she groaned, weak and dull. “I'm so glad you're here.” “Y-you're going to be okay,” he said desperately, quivering and sweating.

She tried to take in all the details of his face. Time stopped for her, allowing her to absorb him—his thick brow, his incredible jawline, his high cheekbones. She counted his beauty marks and admired his pink lips. He was so regal. Credence thought back to his stunning smiles, his quick wit, his gentle touches. She longed to marvel at his kindness and his soft-spoken voice, and treasure him for the rest of her life. She reached up with her leaden, exhausted hand. Her fingers touched his clammy face, hot in comparison to her frozen body.

“You're the most gorgeous man I've ever met,” she said. His hand laid upon hers, fingers grasping her and keeping her close. “Credence. I won't let you die. Please. Please—”

She didn't hear him anymore. His lips kept moving but no sound reached her ears. Everything was so cold. Her vision went black.

#fanfiction #writing #fanfic #my writing #cici arts #ominis x oc #ominis #ominis gaunt #ominis x original character #hogwarts legacy ominis #credence painter #ominis x credence #ominis x cree #fighting #dragon #goblins #snake #hogwarts legacy #harry potter

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theseventhoffrostfall · 1 year

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On the topic of magical sieges: what about actually getting through the wall? Is there explosive magic? Is it just straight up gunpowder or some other physical charge? Is explosive magic a thing but most large fortresses have anti-magic walls? I imagine if you had a world where wizards could do things like cast directed lightning and fire it wouldn’t take long before someone tried to make them blow things up directly.

Well I think most magicians' first option, if they could get close, would be to use stone-shape spells to carve a tunnel quickly, but yeah, there's a wide variety of options there. I also lean towards the general setup that temporary magic protections, okayishly-effective personal antimagic gear, and counterspells are all common enough to be a tactical consideration, something like a permanent anti-magic field encircling your entire wall would be a ludicrously arduous, time-consuming and expensive endeavor to the point that, like, maybe a High King's keep, not his city, has antimagic walls.

Magic in defense of a city (and it's walls) would more likely lean towards the active defense strategy. That is, the defenders' own magicians, flying assets, contracted orcish archers wielding greatbows, etc are on alert to attack any magic user that identifies himself by casting a big flashy spell (incidentally, this is why magic users embedded in military units also forgo the fancy robes and wear the uniform and armor of the units they're attached to)

also, there'd be a fairly complex interplay of, like, baiting the defenders into wasting resources and energy running tremorsense spells and artifacts by feigning a sapping maneuver, trying to make sure fire-resistance spells (as well as fire-fighting gear like simple water and sand and such) are ready to counter magic-assisted attempts to fire the city structures, stuff like that.

#worldbuilding #fantasy

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jbt7493 · 2 days

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game where you have to solve puzzles in real time while dodging attacks to cast different magics, list of magic types and corresponding puzzles

first off, obviously there are flaws with this to begin with as me and kwarrtz and also me and sanity's stream chat have been discussing. I think it is sort of appealing from the idea that different playstyles are incentivized not just by amount of damage and damage type but also the actual gameplay, the gameplay is symbolically linked to what you're doing, and the skill ceiling is very high. However. the skill ceiling might be a bit *too* high and it would be overwhelming generally, and while you could have a lot of different mechanics to interact with, the fundamental concept of 'do puzzles while dodging attacks and aiming' is gonna be the same, and unlike a normal rpg where the gameplay isnt thaat different and you can try out the different builds, it may be too hard to try new builds in this such that youre actually more constrained into a single build

but with that said. this post is me listing some ideas of what magic types correspond to what puzzles and so on.

Spatial magic and teleportation- rubiks cube, mazes

Fire magic- this one is a bit tough, i think maybe one type of puzzle to ignite and then another to sustain the fire, so a fireball would basically just be a tougher ignition puzzle but a wall of fire would be an easy ignite and a progressively harder puzzle to keep it burning for a while. was thinking the sustain puzzle would be a bullet hell?

Summons- Was thinking a chess puzzle for like, soldier-y summons, control of the summons post summoning would depend on the type of the spell but obviously like, you could just do RTS micros for them, swap bodies to directly control very strong summons, do more chess puzzles to buff up your soldier-y summons etc. kwarrtz makes case for chess game against an ai being good, i think its you competing against a demon to maintain control over your borrowed units

necromancy, box of bones you assemble to get on board, micro to control, box has some decoy bones but open enough and those turn from a decoy into a whole nother skeleton to summon.

fey summons use later written, constructs use later written, unsure about pure arcane summons

Buffing and/or healing- was thinking a sympathetic magic empath type thing where its a dating game. originally was thinking that for healing but then i thought oh maybe a Surgeon Simulator thing. someone else said surgeon simulator type minigame for dispelling and counterspells but i think you should need to counter elements with opposing elements.

kwarrtz makes strong case for dating game being for fey magic whereas i was thinking itd be you appealing to your god. idk what buffing is then...

right so fey magic druidic summons and stuff- animal spirit summons are autonomous, no micros. fey magic requires also using other magic type to trigger spells. i like the day trading and delayed-spell-that-triggers-when-you-do-a-thing thing, and its like, the fey give you a challenge for their entertainment

Debuffs/poison - was thinking like a papas pizzeria type thing, kwarrtz kinda thinks the idea of poison magic is weird and it should just be out of combat alchemy. hexes/curses are sort of like, you have preparation but want to do it fast- drawing minigame for a predefined hexagram, pixel match for efficacy level

Electricity - circuit diagrams! kwarrtz disagrees a bit, thinks circuit diagrams would be more of a crafting thing. kwarrtz suggests like you click on the points you want it to arc to, then do a little osu thing to chain between those points, i think that might be a little too simple and direct

hm okay im also undecided on like, how many of the more direct damage elements need to exist and if we should do the whole fire earth water air thing. still dont even have a good ignition puzzle for fire, dunno what would be good for ice at all, electricity i think you can make pretty intuitive ones, even if i dont love kwarrtz's. kwarrtz says if you're making your own magic system for this you dont need it to be aristotles elements, but idk what else then :p

light magic- draw mirrors, focus the light/collimate it for better range and effect, draw a shape with it- randomly generated field, but you decide the spell to cast on that field. fire is usually direct damage but in this case would also allow you to make fire walls and stuff; light would be very long range and pretty much just damage, i dont know what else you could even do that would make sense

pure arcana magic like magic missile and shield are just helldiver stratagem arrow key sequences. unsure if it is JUST cantrip level stuff or if you can do harder typeracer sequences for advanced arcana magic

Clerical magic- You Have A Book, answer quiz questions from it, type as fast as you can, high level spells make you decipher the question before answering it, highest level you speak in tongues and answer back *in the cipher*

Qi martial arts- Where's My Water

I want conjuration magic because there's a lot of gadget-y things you can do with it and you can be both control and buffing your team by like, literally conjuring new stuff into their puzzles maybe? but idk how to do that one

crafting: alchemy mechanics, runestone language for a coding api maaaybe? kwarrtz says that's overplayed and i'm inclined to agree, plus the level of balancing for a coding language is rough because what can you do when someone writes literally the perfect script. make automatons and other gadget type things with like, one of those machine building type games, but as an out of combat minigame. dunno what to have for more direct item enchantments rather than magitech Devices, though. that's more of a thing for an api coding minigame thing but as mentioned. maybe you just need to time trial do a shitload of puzzles of the matching elements to put the enchantments on it? and then the crafting process has a skill ceiling of its own + the effect matches the school of magic, and it incentivizes a market where if you're not good at the spatial magic puzzles but want a teleportation item you wanna trade for it

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suddencosmology · 11 months

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Antimagic for the Soul: a brief exploration of bullying casters in Dungeons and Dragons 3.5 edition.

Magic is scary. There are plenty of ways to protect your squishy or poor-save allies from getting ratioed by the local evil wizard, but just like reproduction, prevention is the best defense. A proactive stance vs magic not only reduces the stress of preparing your spells for the day, but reduces the need to fill your head with staple spells like Protection From Energy.

So how does one prevent spellcasting? With Counterspell! Problem is, Counterspell in it default state is a reactionary ability. Not only do you need know what spell is coming at you, have that spell prepared yourself, and you need to ready your action to Counterspell it. That just won't do.

First we look at the feat Improved Counterspell. This alters the requirement of readied spell to be any spell of the same school, provided it can match or beat the spell level. Good, but not perfect. You still need to know the spell is coming.

For Sorcerers, Wizards, Clerics, and classes that use those spell lists, there is the spell Battlemagic Perception. A 3rd level spell, this baby gives you a boost to Spellcraft to identify the spell coming at you, and with 5 ranks in Spellcraft, you instantly sense all spells happening within line of sight/100 feet of you. Also, it gives Counterspell as a free action. Doing so ends the spell which is a bummer, but sometimes one 'lolnope' is enough. Until you're high enough level to be dealing with Quickened Spells, you've effectively stolen the caster's turn.

But it can go further. The feat Divine Defiance allows you to spend one use of Turn Undead or similar ability to immediate action Counterspell. Given the situational value of Turning, a Cleric probably has two to six more Turn attempts than they need in a day.

A character with all of these can fire off two Counterspells in the same round if need be. Very sexy.

But there are more fish in the sea, and lots of them like hitting people with sharp/blunt objects. The inherent martial solution to casters is hitting them, and the threat of hitting them. A caster within a threatened space must make a Concentration check (DC 15+(2xSpell level)) to cast their spells without provoking attacks of opportunity. At low levels this is a gamble, but at higher levels, with higher bonuses, this is an easy check.

The Disruptive feat increases the DC to cast defensively by 4. Improves the odds of failure... but what if you could guarantee failure?

Look no further than Mage Slayer. This feat makes defensive casting impossible.

The feat Supernatural Instinct covers a different, but important base. It causes any supernatural ability (such as spell-like abilities and breath weapons) used by a threatened foe to provoke an attack of opportunity.

Now, a caster can always Tumble (DC 15 to move safely) away or take a five foot step to get out of melee range. The solution here is twofold: either increase your reach, or make moving not an option.

Tactical use of the environment can force this caster up against a wall, a cliff, or just in the reach of another character.

Creating or emulating Difficult Terrain (halves move speed, cannot five foot step) has a myriad of options. There are spells galore, either produced by a friend, a magic item, or yourself if you multiclass.

For feats, Difficult Swings creates Difficult Terrain in your threatened space when you unleash a full attack. Scorpion Style cuts an enemy's speed down to 5 feet (Fort save negates), and Footslasher halves their speed on a successful attack.

Reach is often increased by being bigger (either magic or playing a Large character), but there are also reach weapons and the Extending weapon property to get an extra 5 feet between you and your enemy.

So these are all well and good, but what if you just really hate magic? What if other people casting spells at you is just the worst? Try Antimagic Field. A ten-foot radius bubble of Fuck You, available as a sixth level spell. No spells, no supernatural anything, and no magic items. Nothing works.

Oh yeah, you're a player character. You probably have and like your magic items. Recalculating bonuses is annoying, even with an app or digital sheet. Also, Antimagic Field means you, the caster, can't cast. Sadge.

But what if... haha, just kidding.

Unless? Selective Spell. A metamagic feat. +1 to the spell level, and one designated creature within a spell's area is unaffected by the spell. Select yourself, and enjoy all benefits of antimagic with no downsides.

Thank you for reading and remember: every caster is beyond salvation except the ones on your side.

#dnd #pathfinder #dnd 3.5e #character building #antimagic #all my homies hate magic #except my magic homies #solutions to problems the DM doesn't want you to solve

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nevofthewilds · 11 months

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S69: Night of Judgement, Part III

Landing heavily in a deep chasm, the battered Mudwangs took stock of their situation and began attempting to climb out. Vax skipped the climb and magically ascended into the air, where he was quickly assaulted by a growing horde of lavakin. Eventually, the four warriors scaled the rocky wall to find themselves on a set of narrow pathways over a river of molten lava, where more lavakin could be seen swimming towards the walls to climb and join the attack.Pressed on all sides, the Mudwangs fought against this greater host, driven forward as the screams of Rinna echoed through the chamber.

Dodging fire bolts and flaming claws, Taerus and Shakan were the first to reach a set of stairs that granted them a greater view of the great underground cavern ahead. The room opened up further on into a larger, rocky cavity where at the opposite end rested a large temple, ancient and decrepit in its upkeep. Its front facade bore the visage of a massive, horned demon’s head, the main entrance passing through stalagmites shaped like vicious fangs. A sinister blue light emanated from the window-shaped eyes and the gaping maw. At the bottom of a staircase leading out from the mouth was a sacrificial altar, surrounded by enthralled slaves attending to Huon Hurrard as read from an archaic book glowing in a similar ethereal blue energy.

Completing his most recent lobotimization via abominations unknown, Huon welcomed the Mudwangs to the (supposed) true seat of knowledge and power in Bofkasmaur. On a stone pedestal high above, Rinna lay unconscious under another nothic, grinning greedly, as it began to carve her scalp with it’s yellow claws. Though Huon spoke of forgiveness and opportunities to expand their minds and wisdom, the Mudwangs were fed up with this charlatan’s taunts and engaged with his infernal subjects.

As Shakan, Vax, and Taerus rushed forward to settle accounts. Rucker bravely acted as a rearguard for his allies, using his oldest tool- the paladin’s shield of Tyr- and his newest gift- Yvram’s moonstone spear- to stand strong as a mountain in fending off waves off lavakin. Taerus made straight for HH, displayed hitherto unknown powers as his cloak shifted into a set of ghastly bat wings, flying up to avoid the Heart of the Ninth and blasting blue fireballs are the party below.

Shakan and Vax engaged with the corrupted wizards by the altar and the intellect devourers haunting the shadows. Gouts of fire met counterspells; magical shields warded off blades as the two mages fought off the corrupted brains while Huon summoned flying gargoyles to harry the warriors from above.

Vax quickly fought his way through the chaos to the column where Rinna was being tortured. The half-elf way able to loose a flurry of arrows to slay the nothic just in time to save Rinna from certain death. Covered in blood and dirt, the grateful girls quickly joined the fight and launched a flurry of devastating spells to shatter the minds and bodies of their enemies.

Taerus was dive-bombed by a gargoyle, narrowly keeping his ground as the stony beast tried to fling the man into the lava below. As the beast closed his jaws over the fighter’s face, a flash of light flared in his vision, and he suddenly heard Ayeres voice. Listening to his soul, Taerus used the weight of the lunging gargoyle to drop into a backwards roll, kicking up into the creature and flinging it over the chasm towards the river below. The warrior was shocked to see his hylgee familiar, Ayeres, plunge forth and guide the gargoyle down into the flames before rising back up with a triumph screech.

Standing tall, Rucker nevertheless began to give ground as the lavakin began to surround him. Sensing a magical presence calling for him, the goliath released the soul of his father from the skull round his neck. With a burst of energy, the spiritual tribe leader spoke volumes by proudly praising his son for his bravery and character. The massive spirit then summoned a glowing hammer that he used to pulverize the now fleeing lavakin. Enchanted by his father’s magical boon, Rucker hastily turned to join his allies behind him.

Shakan Bake, the draconic sorcerer-monk who’d been prepared to leave behind all of his past at Bofkasmaur, faced the individual who’d unknowingly caused him so much grief and strife over the past year. Flying overhead, Huon mocked Shakan once more for his lack of vision and forethought. Shakan refuted the claims, pointing out he’d never stooped to infernal magicks to further his status, instead relying on the gifts he’d always possessed. He demonstrated this by launching a fireball of his own, burning the apocryphal mage and causing him to drop his book.

Startled and furious, Huon made to fly through the temple’s entrance before finding it suddenly blocked by Rucker of the Blacktails. Glowing brightly with the blessing of his father and wielding the magical moonspear, the goliath bought the Mudwangs enough time to launch a final attack that brought the weasling academic to the ground in misery. However, before they could punish him further, the cave began to rock and shake, as the temple began to shift and roar, revealing it to be the head of an actual demon. Roaring at it’s defeated acolyte, the massive demon shook the cavern in a quake, raining down boulders that crushed Huon utterly. Amidst the earthquake, Rucker was caught in the leviathan’s jaws, and before he could leap to safety was crushed in the demon’s mouth.

Though Taerus fought bravely forward to save his ally, the cataclysm of the cave collapsing around the demon’s thrashing was too much. An exhausted Vax was knocked out cold by another fallen boulder. This time, Rinna was the one to return the favor, healing the warlock enough so that they all could escape. Grabbing at the dark book Huon had dropped, Shakan called for the Mudwangs to leave this pit of despair.

With Rinna saved but their tribe once again split, Vax, Shakan, Taurus and Rinna escaped the collapsing tunnel, leaving behind Rucker’s body in the final ruins of Huon Hurrard’s evil schemes and conspiracies.

#stagstory

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coffeeinkwell · 2 years

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Crowned Devil

Medium fiend (Devil), Lawful Evil Armor Class 12 (15 with mage armor) Hit Points 45 (10d8) Speed 30 ft. STR 8 (-1), DEX 14 (+2), CON 11 (+0), INT 17 (+3), WIS 12 (+1), CHA 11 (+0) Saving Throws Int +6, Wis +4 Skills Arcana +6, History +6 Damage Resistances cold; bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing from nonmagical attacks that aren't silvered Damage Immunities fire, poison Condition Immunities poisoned Senses darkvision 60 ft., passive Perception 11 Languages Common, Infernal Challenge 5 (1,800 XP)

Spell-Storing Horns. The devil has five large horns made of different materials, each of which contains a specific spell and disappears when cast. It will try and cast them in this order. Expended horns reappear at the end of a long rest. If the spell requires concentration, it lasts for its full duration without requiring concentration. The devil is a 10th-level spellcaster. Its spellcasting ability is Intelligence (spell save DC 15, +7 to hit with spell attacks). Rock: flesh to stone Searing Metal: wall of fire Copper: lightning bolt Glass: shatter Black: vampiric touch The devil has three small silvery horns above the big horns, each of which can be used once to cast counterspell.

Arcane Ward. The devil has a magical ward that has 25 hit points. Whenever the devil takes damage, the ward takes the damage instead. If the ward is reduced to 0 hit points, the devil takes any remaining damage. The arcane ward is not resistant to any types of damage and is not immune to fire damage. When the devil casts counterspell, the ward regains 6 hit points.

Actions

Claw. Melee Weapon Attack: +5 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 4 (1d4 + 2) slashing damage. Hurl Flame. Ranged Spell Attack: +6 to hit, range 120 ft., one target. Hit: 11 (2d10) fire damage.

The crowned devil is forged from the soul of a damned abjurer, retaining similar statistics, infused with the souls of other spellcasters that take the form of horns on the devil's forehead that each contain powerful spells. Like a succubus or incubus, the crowned devil is capable of appearing humanoid to infiltrate mortal societies. However, instead of tempting a single soul, a crowned devil may pose as an apprentice wizard to gather arcane knowledge, or oversee lesser devils to seek out some magical item.

Note: This was my first homebrew D&D monster, according to my files I wrote its statblock in November of 2020.

#dnd #dnd 5e #dnd monster #dnd homebrew

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seafleece · 5 years

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goddddddddddddddddddddddd jester holding beau by the waist and yelling “come with me!” and casting dimension door is too much

that’s gay rights babey !!

#i love. her.#god #critical role #jester lavorre #beauregard lionett #beaujester #i’m so sorry i’m not done livetweeting but holy shit #first EVERYONE failing the wall of fire dc #and then caleb’s counterspell with fucking disadvantage #and the fuckin 19 perception through opaque flames #fleece.txt

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dawl-and-dapple · 3 years

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rating: general warning: No Warnings Apply relationship: Caleb Widogast / Essek Thelyss word count: 1,548

Caleb tells Essek some campfire stories. Inspired by this lovely artwork by @fea_feathers. Beta-ed by @mllekurtz.

***

Far in the northern wastelands of Eiselcross, almost two miles below the surface where storms scream for days on end, under layers of ice and rock and metal, is a single dark-grey hemisphere. It is dwarfed by the three great black marble pillars which stretch up to the arched roof of the hall which hadn't been disturbed for several hundred years, until a little over an hour ago.

There are signs of life now: two pairs of footprints leading from one doorway into the centre of the hall, stopping at the perimeter of the dome. One of the sets of feet had limped slightly.

Inside, a small campfire mutters with the unnatural docility of one created by magic. Two men sit opposite one another, both leaning in towards the fire’s warmth.

Essek used his final high-level spell against the Absorber which had subsequently broken his collarbone. He had been counterspelled anyhow. The frustration of losing that spell slot for naught is frankly worse than the throbbing pain in his chest and left ankle, particularly after Caleb had dosed him with a moderate potion of health.

He sits on a lump of broken stone Caleb had kicked into the centre of his circle before raising the dome. It’s about the right size to be a makeshift stool, though not nearly as forgiving as one. Essek shifts a little in his seat, decidedly not complaining about his back.

Caleb pulls out the bottle he’d been looking for in his bag of holding. It’s not Lionett wine this time, but a small dark-brown bottle with no label.

“Upon recommendation of our friend Veth, whom we blessed with a more refined taste. Almost as good as a health potion, wouldn't you say?”

Essek takes one mouthful of the stuff before deciding he’d rather not risk the focus necessary for trancing that night. Caleb has swallowed half the bottle by then. Instead, Essek pours a little into a mug of cocoa he’d prepared over their small campfire made from the first of six servings Caduceus had given them.

“How is your ankle,” asks Caleb. He’s not slurring his words yet, though he has quietly migrated from the other side of the dome to a spot on the floor next to Essek’s boulder. “You were favouring your right on our way into this chamber.”

“Much better. It is only my shoulder which is hurting now.”

Caleb nods. He’s slowly rubbing the pad on his thumb around the rim of the bottle, making it hum. “I cannot convince you to drink another potion.”

Essek chuckles. “I will trance it off, thank you. I have endured worse. You have, too.”

“That is true.”

“You and the others do like to brag about your scars and the circumstances behind them, for whatever reason. I recall you once mentioning an occasion involving a devil-toad…” Essek trails off, lifting his brow as a pleased expression overcomes Caleb.

“That was barely two days after Veth and I had first met the others,” says Caleb. “I spent half of that fight horizontal.” He says it with the nostalgia of one recalling their first kiss.

“We wizards truly are indispensable.”

Throwing back the rest of the whiskey, Caleb lurches to his feet and shrugs off his oiled leather overcoat. “I think I will tell you some stories,” he says. “You have missed a lot and we have never been particularly transparent with you, Essek. You still do not know what happened inside the happy fun ball.”

Essek begins to push himself to his feet too, but Caleb beats him to it and shoos him back down onto the rock-stool.

“No, no, stay there. I will be your storyteller.”

Essek watches Caleb painstakingly position himself between the campfire and the wall of rubble marking the southern boundary of their dome so that his shadow dances tall and spindly across the rocks behind him. The firelight winks for a moment as Caleb waves his hand to cast control flame and makes the fire suddenly stand tall and uncannily still like a spear of hot glass in the tinder.

Clearing his throat, Caleb holds out one arm straight and perpendicular to his body.

“A man in my hometown would tell stories like this,” he explains. “With a screen of cloth between us, the children, and him and his lamp. He would make, ah, monsters and heroes and mountains with his puppets and bare hands.” Caleb sticks one finger up behind his elbow, creating a silhouette of a person standing alone on the horizon of his arm. “I am not nearly as skilled as him.”

“I really have no frame of reference,” says Essek. “But I am no art critic either way. Tell me a story, Caleb.”

Essek is unsure how much of this can be blamed on the drink and how much on the terrible day they’d endured. Caleb seems eager to show off in front of Essek, either way.

He begins by describing the incidents in Trostenwald and Alfield. There is a lot of arm-waving and minor illusion involved in order to convey the dramatic effect the tales necessitate. Essek happily sinks lower into his warm furs with every minute of Caleb’s performance, reconstructing this timeline; a surprisingly short amount of time had passed between the Nein first meeting and their arrival in Rosohna, but so much had happened.

Caleb occasionally stumbles.

“And then—then, um, Fjord said to me...ah, I cannot remember the exact words.” He laughs and presses the heel of his fist to his temple. “After a month or so the details begin to blur, you see. But he told me that he owed me one. The joke is on both of us though, you see, because had we completed that ritual our ship would have been destroyed by a storm.”

“Oh, gosh.”

“Typical wizard and warlock behaviour. Cannot see the forest for the trees, or the deadly tempest-summoning-blood-ritual for the spell circle.”

“Indeed,” says Essek, entranced by the way Caleb’s body language has been loosened by the drink. He’s grinning so broadly his cheeks are dimpled.

“I cannot say I regret it though, in retrospect,” Caleb goes on. “Our friend Fjord was the de-facto leader at the time, as the only one with sailing experience. Given that man’s track-record it likely did him good to graze against the consequences of his actions.”

“Had you not been on a boat before then?”

“No, no. I had not even seen the ocean until a month before. The empire is landlocked and I lived nowhere close to a lake, and had no means of boarding a sailing boat in such a modest and rew—rool—roowool—rewhul...rurrool...Scheiß auf diese hässliche Sprache.”

Caleb scrubs at his eyes while Essek laughs.

“Tell me about the happy fun ball,” says Essek, breaking Caleb out of his frustration.

“Ja, ja, so we were looking for the heart of this, ah, this unkillable monster. The laughing hand. He was a mean motherfucker, as Beauregard might put it, ha!” Caleb pulls his shoulders up to imitate a larger frame. “Huge. Sword for a hand. Covered in mouths which laugh and make you crazy. Nothing we did to hurt him stuck. But...his mortal heart was deep inside the archmage’s bane and if we destroyed that—!”

Caleb points at Essek and raises his brow.

“You may destroy him.”

“Genau. And so, we dove once more into the happy fun ball. Oh, I must tell you of our first time inside the ball though. You will enjoy this story, it involves a library. I will return to our friend with the mouths later.”

Caleb goes on for another while. It is so very entertaining for Essek to watch him stumble his way through a story while lifting the empty sleeves of his coat to cast dragon-wings against the rocks, or hook it over his head to create the hulking shadow of the laughing hand, or hold his splayed fingers close to the campfire to imitate the long boney claws of the creatures they came across in the barbed fields. But Essek cannot keep his eyes open forever.

Blind, he listens to Caleb’s voice, warmed by whisky and cocoa, lifting in pitch and tone. It carries him through the southern oceans and the greying wildlands. He hears his own friends’ voices being imitated (terribly, but so endearingly) as the ache in his shoulder fades and he floats somewhere above his own body.

“Are you trancing, Essek?”

“Hm.”

“Oh. I forgot you can do that sitting up.”

Reluctantly, Essek opens his eyes. The hypnotic rhythm of thought, imagination, and memory pauses and rearranges itself into his waking brain. “You should sleep. I do not know the time, but it must be late, and we both need the rest.”

Caleb nods. His face is remarkably pink after the drink and the exertion of storytelling.

“Yes.”

“Please tell me more tomorrow night,” says Essek. He slides off the rock stool and lays out his furs. “Then, pick up where you left off, please. Tell me about the forging of that sword.”

Caleb smiles. He dims the fire, joins Essek on the ground, and rolls out his own bedspread over the cracked marble floor. “Of course. We were just getting to a good part.”

“Don’t spoil me.”

#cr fic #critical role fic #critical role essek #shadowgast #shadowgast fic #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #ficlet

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