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You pry open the heavy earthen door that has been keeping you from the tomb's inner-most sanctum. You are buffeted by a thick cloud of dust that is almost as bad as the stench of fresh corpses that rushes out to greet you. Wait, why would the corpses be fresh? Supposedly none have entered the tomb of the praetors in generations. A shadow moves, defend yourself!

Greetings adventurers! We are excited to announce that the /r/DnD mod team is looking to expand. Moderating a community as robust and complex as ours takes a lot of work, and requires a diversity of thought in its management. Do you think you're up to the task?

We are looking to fill several key gaps in our mod team. We are interested in users who can help with the regex that governs automod, users who can moderate outside of US time zones, users with experience identifying AI content, and users who can advocate for communities that are under-represented on /r/DnD. That being said, ALL INTERESTED PARTIES are encouraged to apply! We need mods who are willing to just do the monotonous busy work of moderating, which is most of the work.

Do you think you would be a good fit for our mod team? Apply today! If you have any questions please let us know in the comments.

2026 /r/DnD Mod Recruitment Form

The application will stay open for at least 1 week, though we may keep it open longer. After applications close we will work to review and reach out to those selected within a week, and then make a public announcement after onboarding.

With the final nothic slain, you are finally able to take in your surroundings. Piles of bodies, some of whom you recognize as the missing clergy, are in various states of decay. You doubt the bishop of Tyr is going to be willing to hand over that bonus now...

I named this comic Dummy Party Adventures and this is part one. It's based on real events that happened during our sessions.

In every adventure, there are serious parts but also stupid, illogical and weird madness and I'm here for it.

This majestic elf fell out of favour of Dice Gods. Other times he spoke and behaved very wisely, but now he derped his biggest derp. Truly tragic for him, but hilarious for the rest of the party.

The biggest damage he did was to his own ego.

Stay tuned for the next adventure!

These three handmade miniature stone golems stand on 40mm round black bases. Each is built from stacked pebbles, forming chunky limbs and torsos with a rough, natural texture. Tufts of yellow-green grass sprout from their shoulders and heads like wild hair. The bases are decorated with soil, tiny green flock, and bits of wood, giving them a rugged, earthy tabletop wargame look. Made for the fun of it.

DDB has seemingly updated every reference of 5e (2024) to 5.5e. I guess we should expect an official announcement at some point soon?

Raising the dead is one thing, but to create an amalgamation oh flesh, sinew, and bone is another level of unholy magics. Created from a mass of bodies and souls, the golem is of one body and mind. A puppet for the master necromancer who has summoned it. If the necromancer behind it is disposed of then the golem will blindly rampage until it cannot anymore, tearing apart itself and anything in its way.

If you like what you see, check out my other pages! My socials are linked in my profile.

Amelia Goldenhill was raised in a monastery dedicated to Lathander, god of the morning and of birth. In there, she was raised as an acolyte to learn the ways of the Morningfather, and developed a great friendship with a boy named Marcus, another child of the monastery. As time passed, they both grew and became closer and closer friends.
One day, Marcus revealed to her a book he had found, which contained forbidden lore to followers of Lathander. It was a book about necromancy. Marcus had been studying how to bring people from the dead, and even how to live forever.
Amelia was shocked, being a very faithful follower of Lathander and knowing just how horrible and forbidden necromancy was, she chastised Marcus. The boy, resentful, continued studying. Their friendship slowly dwindled.
Marcus had lost his parents at a very young age, and desperately sought ways to bring them from the dead. Amelia did not understand this, being an orphan from birth and being raised as a child prodigy by the elders. One day, he attempted to perform a ritual to bring his parents back, but failed catastrophically. When his tomfoolery was discovered, he was banished from the temple and vilified by all Lathander followers.
Amelia didn't see Marcus for many years, until her monastery was attacked by a gigantic undead horde. The attack was fended off, but Amelia felt, and somehow knew: Marcus had something to do with this. Filled with a sense of duty, she asked for blessings and, against the wishes of her elders, set off in search of her long lost friend, to hopefully bring him back to the light.
In this quest, she will find out she is an aasimar chosen by Lathander, which is why she was so gifted as a child.

Bringing Brad Ohlman’s (GoblinScribe Gaming) vision to life has been an incredible journey. This cover is part of a series of paintings I’ve crafted for the world of Revolt. I truly enjoyed the creative flow and the dark, low-fantasy aesthetic we’ve built together. It’s been a privilege to translate Brad's gritty storytelling into art; a collaboration as rewarding as the game itself.

Okay, we all know how this goes. Sylvian hosts hold a feast for the mountain emissaries, and the sudden call of "But where's the meat?" issues from every stocky limestone licker at the table.

But I think this, is fundamentally incorrect. Let’s take a more forensic look at out two subjects.

Elves have lower bodyfat, they have good eyesight but also, they see in the dark (which means their colour vision is likely poor). Elves are nimble, they have better reaction speeds.

These are the traits of a housecat. Elves are very optimised for hunting (hence the bows). And they're thin, they can't be eating lots of carbohydrates. Like any predator they're lanky. Obviously, they're omnivores, but they live in a game rich environment, and they don’t have fat stores to live off of, so they need energy rich food.

And elves (on the whole) do not believe in land clearance, so any farming would be happening under a canopy, and unless they’re farming coffee and strawberries, that’s a lame farm. Which means most of their vegetables are gathered wild.

-

Dwarves are a different story. Stocky, strong, enduring. They have the build of an Ox. Bodies which are hard to move quickly, but very efficient. They pack on fat and muscle. They have thick bones like iron. They also have Darkvision, but Dwarves live in the dark constantly, it's not a hunting advantage. They live like mole rats.

Dwarves live under hills and mountains, a protein scarce environment. Their main fare are likely mushrooms, roots, and tubers. Things you can grow in the dark. Dwarves are also resistant to poison, which is an adaption you would have if you ate mushrooms and potatoes. Not bacon.

We haven't even gotten into the amount of agriculture you need to produce good beer. Dwarves are good farmers. Most of their weapon’s double as tools. We’ve all seen Dwarf bury a pickaxe into a troll’s prison pouch. An axe too. Honestly, I think only sheer impracticality is preventing them from bringing a plough into battle. Seriously how would an Elf use a plough? The horses in the elven grove are unicorns, and they teleport if you try to yoke them.

-

Now, it’s important to note this is all just physiology and the culture which proceeds it. Omnivores frequently crave food that's hard to find in an ancestral environment. Like how humans crave sugar, we're not supposed to have lots of it. But we want it badly because it used to take lots of effort to find.

By that same token. Elves might enjoy vegetables because they would taste very sweet (Cats like eating some vegetables but can’t handle the sugar well). Similarly Dwarves might enjoy meat because it has a lot of protein and calcium, which they likely crave due to their thick bones (This is horses sometimes eat birds). They would crave things hard to get when you eat mushrooms and tubers.

-

So, the "Where's the Meat" exchange could happen. But only due to two tragic misunderstandings. The dwarves think "These cheap-ass knife-ears are havin' a feast and they're bringin' out what me wife makes when she's on a health kick". With the Elves are thinking "Oh these poor humble hill folk, they must be unused so such decadent fare. Have more sweetcorn."

Hey all, I could really use some outside perspective.

I’ve been playing the same character for about 7 years now, basically weekly. Our campaign is well past the halfway point, and the combat, although sparce, is brutal — very hardcore, very strategic, and absolutely unforgiving. Bad calls got me killed twice before.

Last session, my character was supposed to be killed outright by an artifact that would have destroyed her soul. No resurrection, no afterlife, just gone. Through what was essentially divine intervention, (a favour) she was saved at the last second… but with a warning: if she dies again, her soul will be destroyed. No coming back.

So now I’m sitting here with this weight over her.

She started as a deeply tragic character. Over the years, she’s grown, healed, found happiness. But she hasn’t completed the reason she entered the story in the first place. Her original goal is still unresolved.

She’s a young eladrin, so in theory she’d live a very long life if she survives the campaign. She could step away, retire, maybe become an NPC helping the party from a safer position. She could live.

But this is also a story in a game. And if she walks away before finishing what she came to do… is she even really alive in the way that matters? Or is that just me being dramatic after 7 years of emotional investment?

So I’m torn between:

A) Retiring her while she’s happy and ahead and letting her transition into an NPC ally

B) Going full ride-or-die and risking true permadeath to see her arc through

If this were your character, after 7 years, what would you do?

Any advice is appreciated.

This escalated quickly. I mean this got out of hand fast.

And it started with a simple thought : " I want to be a DM".

Aproximately 2 years ago my group of friends (35+ year old boys) thought that we should try D&D, since every football session ended with a visit to ER by one or more of those same middle age boys.

We had a friend who was an experienced player (and whose initials are actually DM) and he agreed to DM for us. We had a few sessions, but my time as player - I kinda did not like it.

But to be Dungeon Master, oh I loved the idea. To be narrator, prepare the story, imagine worlds and endless possibilities, it appealed to my character so much that I now think I was born to do it. So far so, that I do not want to be player, ever.

And as numerous DMs before me (and after looooong research) I have decided that LoMP will be my First campaign as DM. I heavily adapted it so it is actually set in Wildemount, which is in turn also heavily adapted based on numerous historical and personal things I experianced and liked. But that is not the point of this post.

As my first introductory one-shot wrapped up (which was actually another famous one shot adventure "Frozen Sick") my party made its way to Phandalin and I made my first few props for the game. A few handouts, diary with invisible ink, potions, the usual suspects.

And then things escalated. In months between sessions (we do have busy lifes and our sessions are 1 per quarter at best) I started watching youtube videos about making trees, rocks, modular terrain, painting minis etc.

And as they say, one thing led to another. (well actually it took me cca 1 year of weekends and afterwork crafting sessions)

And now I present to you - my vision of Phandalin, situated comfortably on my 2 square meter kitchen island.

PS

Oh yea, Phandalin was under siege by hordes of Goblins, heavily inspired by Game Night BLog and his amazing LMoP series which I wholeheartedly recommend: https://gamenightblog.com/2019/05/03/phandelver-campaign-diary-9/