This is Halloween!


Not counting Groundhog's Day, Halloween is my favorite holiday. I have made quite a few Halloween-themed posts over the years and thought I would compile them in one place for DMs who might want to mine ideas for a Halloween-inspired session.


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Recent Posts

Tarithnesti - The Battle Begins

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07 Deepkolt 349 AC EN ROUTE TO TARITHNESTI Knowing the only invisibility magic that he has left protects only himself; Kysek protects his steed. He keeps to the shadows of the treetops, concealing his outline as he approaches. Leaning in close to Dusk's neck, he murmurs to the griffon, directing her to weave between the trees and beneath the canopy. Staying low so as not to present a target to watching archers or wizards. Kysek sends Bubo ahead to scout the area and look for enemies prior to his arrival. The owl flies ahead on silent wings. The further the familiar moves toward Tarithnesti, the more signs he sees of possible enemies passing through the area. Rowboats abandoned on riverbanks, pulled up onto the shore and out of the water. A broken branch here, a scuffed patch of moss or partial footprint left in the snow. Something, or, more specifically, a lot of somethings moving through the forest toward the city. And it looks like Kysek isn't going to get there before the...
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Tarithnesti - Infiltrated!

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07 Deepkolt 349 AC EN ROUTE TO TARITHNESTI Kysek continues as planned. He concentrates upon his raptor familiar and tells Bubo to continue to relay what he sees; hoping to better formulate a plan prior to his arrival. He continues to guide Dusk through the treetops and under the canopy for concealment as his mind sifts through Bubo's information and runs down the spells he has remaining. His world narrows to two wildly different views. Below, he can feel the rise and fall of Dusk's wings, he can hear the whistling of the wind as the griffon skims the treetops. He smell the tang of pine tar from the forest and the new leather of his saddle and harness. He closes his eyes, trusting his steed to carry him where he needs to go and focuses on what Bubo can see. It's like looking through a tunnel. Everything close by is a hazy blur cast in shades of gray, black, and white. Farther out, the elf is able to pick out fine details - individual needles on pine trees, patterns of tr...
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Yes, But... What if it was Shadowrun (Part 6)?

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Like the other posts in what has become something of a series , this is not actually Shadowrun but relies on tropes from the setting for my home campaign.  - - - - - The music in the ballroom pulsed like a living thing—deep, synthetic techno-bass threaded through with something almost orchestral, as if the past were being politely strangled by the future. Light cascaded from the chandeliers, reflecting against chrome limbs, subdermal implants, and cybernetic eyes that glowed faintly. Raven stood at the edge of it all, a still point in a sea of motion. The tuxedo, delivered to his rented room just hours earlier, along with an invitation that implied an offer of employment, fit him as though it had been tailored by magic rather than machine. It concealed much, but not everything. The faint crystalline dusting across his pale skin caught the light just enough to suggest something… other. Something not entirely of this world . His swords—subtly worked into the ensemble, disguised b...
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Road Trip to the Dragon Isles - Ak-Krin to Ak-Tubal

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11 Newkolt 349 AC Arthur mounts his horse and rides along with Agnes, Davaa, and Altan, keeping an eye out through their travels. The windblown snow stings and reddens exposed skin. The few clouds that are visible at the beginning of the day swftly vanish, either carried off on the wind or simply evaporating as the sun rises higher, leaving behind a pale blue sky. Davaa is at the head of the line, leading the group toward the sea for the first hour or so before turning due north. Altan brings up the rear. Both of the Khurish warriors ride with confidence born from years of experience. A few hours into the journey, as the sun is just passing its zenith, a flash of movement is spotted just beyond a low rise of the rolling grassland. Figures, clad in heavy furs, move just behind the ridge. Davaa slows his horse, allowing the others to draw closer. "Might be trouble ahead." He looks at Agnes, "Can the...woman be counted upon to not panic if we are attacked?" A shaggy...
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Earth-218

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I never set out to create a shared universe for the campaigns that I run. I simply started introducing Player Characters from previous stories as NPCs out of, well, basic laziness. Still, the opportunities this has provided speak for themselves considering that nearly all of the characters in my current campaign have come from these previous stories. Everything up to this point has been leading to a crossover that ties my D&D campaigns in with the “modern” settings will happen on Earth-218 - a world where DC and Marvel characters both exist (and is home to the Marvel Superheroes campaign I ran back in high school).   This is where the gaming materials I have for Colonial Gothic, Boot Hill, Gangbusters, Call of Cthulhu , d20 Modern (and its supplements), the James Bond Role-Playing Game, and Star Wars plus several other smaller settings (Kill Puppies for Satan, Infestation, Creeks and Crawdads , Toon, and Ninja Burger) will all be combined into what hopefully turns out to...
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Kurinost - We Walked All of the Way Here Just to Leave Five Minutes Later

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17 Gildember 348 AC Ra’ziir shakes the halfling’s hand replying with “Hello”. Withdrawing his hands back into the folds of his robes, Ra’ziir continues, “Now tell me, what do you know of these waters,” as he nods toward the bay. A faint smile cracks the corner of the Elf’s mouth. “Be wary little one, my possessions are cursed. Best not to touch anything I am carrying without permission lest you wish to be cursed as well. The last time someone did, they were instantly vaporized…” he let’s the words hang in the air. Butch jumps and down, clapping excitedly. "Being vaporized would be a Bad Thing for the vaporizee. Does it happen every time?" He reaches out cautiously, one finger extended toward the bladesinger's wrist. "What if someone just grazes your stuff. Leaving piles of dust behind you because you got jostled in a crowded tavern would be awkward at best." He stops, remembering the he was asked a question about the bay. He looks out over the rolling surf, t...
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