A Story From a Campaign I Run That Illustrates How AWESOME It Can Be!
By Riley Rath
Table of Contents
- Too Many Threats?!?
- A Mighty Paladin Falls...
- Bring Down the Nautiloid!
- Conclusion: The Gods Are ALIVE
Too Many Threats?!?
Quick question...
How does any fantasy kingdom even EXIST, let alone function, in our D&D 5e campaigns?!?
I think about how hard it is for nations to simply get by in the real world, and how a single tragedy can topple kings in the ancient world.
So how in the hell can the civilizations in the Forgotten Reams THRIVE when they are assaulted by:
- Dragons who can burn down their villages...
- Giants that can smash through their walls...
- Beholders that run criminal organizations...
- Fey spirits that don't know that stealing and murdering babies is wrong...
- Drow that steal citizens into a lifetime of brutal slavery...
- Devils that persuade the noble to commit vile deeds...
- Demons that rip and tear all living things...
- Liches that raise up graveyards of undead armies...
- And Tarraques that can kill and destroy EVERYTHING.
That is A LOT for a kingdom to have to deal with! And it doesn't include the smaller, more common monsters like orcs, trolls, and wyverns!
So HOW a DnD kingdom can exist with SO MANY THREATS is something that never made sense to me.
Now I am not a psychic, but I am guessing your initial answer back would be: "Well, all these kingdoms have good wizards and other spellcasters."
To which I reply: "Yeah, but SO DO ALL THE BAD GUYS!!!"
It's not like the clerics have a monopoly on spellcasting, forcing cultists to cross their arms, sit in the corner, and sulk at how unfair it is! There are TONS of ways an evil person can access unimaginable arcane power.
That ALONE would prevent law and order in society! Imagine if your neighbor could sell their soul to Asmodeus and suddenly have the ability to light your house on fire. It would be the equivalent of them suddenly having dynamite... that would rattle your confidence in the societal institutions that uphold society!
The other answer that came to mind was: "Well, that is what the adventuring party is for! Heroes are born because they save the world from evil and darkness!"
© Marvel Productions and D&D Entertainment
Which is true... but it still doesn't account for the sheer multiplicity of bad guys. Heroes will slay maybe ten truly terrifying and society-changing big bad guys in a campaign? Are we really to believe that the cults of Dendar the Night Serpent, elemental evil, and Orcus NEVER have plans that are being executed simultaneously?
Plus, hoping for a ragtag group of social misfits to overcome all odds and save everyone isn't exactly a foolproof plan. A king cannot tell your court of nobles:
"Listen... I know we are all scared of the demon that was summoned in the riverlands. But DON'T WORRY... I am sure some adventurers will turn up to deal with it... yessiree... aaaaaany minute now..."
So... yeah... this question sorta bothered me for a while. It's not a big deal... I didn't lose any sleep over it... but it was kinda annoying.
But just recently one of the players in my campaign made a decision so foolish that I had no choice but to kill them off.
However, I also wanted to give his character a proper send off, and THAT opportunity created the PERFECT opportunity to demonstrate my solution to the "evil everywhere in the Forgotten Realms" problem.
© Wizards of the Coast
A Mighty Paladin Falls...
My players are in the midst of a Mindflayer campaign (sorry... no further plot details... still going on!), and in this particular session one of the factions of mindflayers ambushed them as they sat around a campfire during a long rest. After a bitter struggle, the illithids snagged an artifact the party was escorting and immediately made a break for the surrounding forest.
The players were wounded and their resources taxed, and it COULD have ended right there... but the Paladin and Fighter took off into the forest.
Neither had darkvision and while it was a full moon (remember that now...) the trees were thick. Thankfully, the Paladin had something better than sight... Hunter's Mark... which he had luckily cast mid-fight on the illithid that had taken the artifact. That made tracking the raiders through the dark forest much easier, but neither of them were ready for what they saw...
There, in the clearing of the forest, with a gentle evening breeze blowing the meadow grass...
- Hovered a snail-like canopy silhouetted against the full moon...
- Huge tendrils swaying gently in the breeze...
- A hull made from a combination of flesh, wood, and metal...
© Wizards of the Coast
A NAUTILOID... and these characters had seen NOTHING like this in their lives.
From the shadows, 60ft away, the Paladin and Fighter watched as three illithid "commandos" approached the ship. As they neared, a causeway had been lowered and a single mindflayer descended to greet the other three while a fifth watched from the prow of the ship, gazing at the night sky.
So... instead of retreating (read our guide here)... naturally... the Paladin threw a javelin.
Now, I don't know what my player's expected... but they know enough about mindflayers to realize that the standard javelin damage is not going to change the math in a combat encounter.
They also just fought these guys and realized they are NOT normal mindflayers... they grow yellow swords and have the equivalent of Mega-Man cannons.
So if WOTC gave out a "stupid player decision of the week" award, this would certainly be a finalist.
As the javelin clanked against the ship, the illithids spun around in alarm. They could not see the characters, but they didn't have to; one by one, they responded with "Mind Blast" in the direction of the javelin. The Paladin, being a warforged, took MAX DAMAGE with every fail (homebrew rule). The Fighter was able to use a healing potion to bring him back up before he himself fled toward camp.
But it was too late...
- The difficult terrain of the forest gave the illithids an advantage in the chase.
- One of them was a Cleric with "Hold Person."
- And they rolled reeeeeaally well to recharge their Mind Blast ability.
A few moments later, the whole table realized there was no mechanical way for the Paladin to escape.
The player chose to turn and face his doom with a brave face. He managed to make his save on a few of the other mindflayer attacks, and unloaded his remaining smites, killing two of the illithids still wounded from the original fight. It was a valiant effort, but before long, the inevitable happened: he dropped to zero HP, went unconscious, and the "screen" went black.
The Fighter arrived at camp, expecting to see his Paladin companion emerge from the shadowy woods. But he never showed. The Bard accused the Fighter of stupidity. The Fighter accused the Bard of cowardice. And the CON Sorcerer wept, praying to her goddess Selune for mercy upon the Paladin. And in that grim, grief-filled moment, we ended the session.
But... that was NOT how the Paladin's story ended...
© John Latta
Bring Down the Nautiloid!
I believe character deaths are really, really important; at least half of my favorite sessions were when a character died. And while I am all for honoring player agency by allowing them to "reap what they sow," I did NOT like how this ended.
It was a very character-centric campaign; a lot of the plot was centered around the characters themselves. And while we had developed this Paladin's character quite a bit, there were still a couple of really important loose ends.
So the next session began NOT back around the campfire, but with the Paladin slowly regaining consciousness, bound to a table...
The mindflayers were curious; what was this strange creature with consciousness, but no brain to extract? They also wanted answers; what was he doing with such an important illithid "artifact"? They proceeded to physically torture him, filling his head with horrifying visions, demanding answers, and causing psychic damage whenever he failed to comply.
But the Paladin fought back with every ounce of strength and focus. A devotee of "The Traid," he begged Ilmater for comfort, beseeched Torm to strengthen him to keep the faith, and pleaded that Tyr would allow him the opportunity to exact just revenge. These prayers interrupted the visions and frustrated the illithids, who eventually knocked him out again before chaining him in a cell.
He awoke to utter chaos...
The flesh in the ship had turned from a deep purple to a bright red. Its hull had lost integrity, giving the Paladin a view of the giant hole in the cargo deck. And equipment was being thrown back and forth as the ship took evasive action at high speeds, careening back and forth in the night sky.
But none of these were the focus of his attention. It had not even been an hour since his torment, yet he felt his vitality restored, his being surging with divine strength. And before him were radiant female Planetars... the Shards of Selune.
You see... before the initial raid on that forest campfire had taken place, I had established that it was a full moon... and ANYTHING that takes place under a full moon, the goddess Selune sees. That combined with the prayers of the Sorcerer and the faith of the Paladin drew the attention of four major deities to a dreaded Nautiloid lingering in the material plane.
So for this session only, the other players had exchanged their character sheets (learn how to fill one out here) for the OP CR 16 Planetar stat block.
What proceeded was a series of EPIC combat encounters:
- The Planetars each cast Blade Barrier, turning the slave quarters into a razor-sharp blender, completely wiping out the thralls in the slave quarters.
- Together they killed all the Mindflayers on the outer deck, dueling them at the base of the tendrils while blasts of radiant moonlight continued to strike the Nautiloid.
- And in the control room, the Paladin cleaved his tormentors in two while the Planetars, seemingly impervious to Mind Blasts (they rolled VERY well), dealt the illithid Cleric and captain a fitting, righteous end.
But more importantly, the Paladin character was given a satisfying conclusion with three powerful moments:
- Some of the captives on the ship confessed to murders, and the once wrathful warforged was able to grant them final absolution and a peaceful, merciful death.
- The ship also had a psychic/illusory trap, creating the perfect opportunity for a long lost friend to manifest, question his character, and for the Paladin to prove he had abandoned the shame that had driven him to violence for so long.
- The session ended with the flaming Nautiloid plummeting to the earth... the Paladin struggling to climb the vertical surface before throwing his magically-infused warforged body into the "reactor" (dormant elder brain pool).
His sacrifice created a spectacular explosion that incinerated the entire ship. and THAT was the spectacular and fitting end of May Pegasa, warforged Oath of Vengeance Paladin of the Triad.
© Wizards of the Coast
Conclusion: The Gods Are ALIVE
I am sure frustrated readers might accuse me of an overhand "Deus ex Machina" rather than allowing my player to suffer knowing his beloved character met some horrifying fate due to his terrible, no good, very bad decisions.
And I admit there is merit to that accusation.
But I am not telling this story to discuss how much a Dungeon Master can or cannot violate player agency. I am telling it because it was AWESOME and because it demonstrates something that, for some reason, I always felt I could NOT do in my campaigns...
I let the D&D deities intervene!
Remember, unless you are homebrewing your campaign, the gods are objectively REAL. The DMG explicitly states this. After all, Cleric magic only works because the gods bestow them with it!
But as far as I know, there is NOTHING that says they only act through their servants on the material plane. In fact, MOST of the DnD gods have avatars they use to walk among the mortals. Famously, the chief dragon god Bahamut travels as a wise old man with 7 golden canaries.
On top of that... most D&D campaigns involve the party being on some epic quest that, sooner or later, WILL impact the fate of the material plane, or at least an entire kingdom! So why wouldn't their efforts draw the attention of the denizens of Mt. Celestia?
Hear me, hear me, ye Dungeon Masters... let the gods do stuff!
I suggest having your players run into a DnD god avatar or two on their journey! After all, if there is a devout, religious, or bound character in the party, then the adventures of the party should have...
- SOME attention...
- of SOME deity...
- that will SOMEDAY intervene!
And the stuff the gods do doesn't even have to be relevant to what the adventuring party is doing! Maybe a town has a prophet that REALLY does speak with Tyr (god of justice). Or maybe Talos (god of storms) destroys a wicked pirate city with fire and brimstone that once used to be a haven of virtue. Or maybe a section of the forest is protected because someone actually shot SILVANUS himself (god of wild nature) there one time! Or maybe every summer a farming village has one giant pumpkin that the avatar of Chauntea (goddess of agriculture) comes and picks herself!
That Said... Some Gods Are EVIL
And These Gods Are Athirst Dice Demand BLOOD!
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In conclusion: let the gods be responsible for the monsters NOT overrunning the humanoid kingdoms and planes!
As Charles Taylor said: the medieval world functioned with an understanding of the "porous self"... that beings were threatened and exposed to many monstrous and spiritual dangers. It was understood that the divine is what protected one from all those things.
Finally, I am also sure that there may be something I am missing. I have NOT read the lore over and over since the 1980s. There is a chance that some OG Dungeons and Dragons player will burst forth from the comments explaining that THIS edition of Dragon Magazine or THAT podcast episode answered this very question and I am so wrong that I should KILL my... character... as penance.
Riley Rath
Riley is a freelance copywriter, content writer, and marketer based out of Spokane, WA. He is thankful to have the opportunity to combine his passion for imaginative role-playing to help FLGS, tabletop, board game, and D&D related businesses communicate their distinct value to players everywhere. When not playing or writing about board games or DnD, he is busy hiking, cooking, and gardening... very hobbit-like for a 6'4" dude.
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