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The Scars on the Dovahkiin (This is from a Skyrim-based DnD campaign)

“How’d you get that scar?” I asked, pointing to her chest. An “X” shaped scar, white and pale against her dark Orsimer skin, was right under her bosom. She placed a hand over it. “That one,” she murmured, trying to remember.

We were in White River, having a swim. As she was discarding her armor, I couldn’t help but stare at the many scars that marked her body. It was more marked up than her Skyrim map; she was constantly updating though there was hardly any room left for markings.

“I want to say, Bonestrewn Crest,” she finally answered. “I walked up the stairs, following a fox, getting ready to kill the dragon at the top. As I walked, I got blasted by ice from a soul gem trap to my left. Hit me right in the chest and knocked me back down the steps. My chest plate broke, of course. But I was alright. Just unconscious for a few hours.”

“You’re lucky no animals got to you,” I said, impressed by the story.

“I know. Honestly, I’m lucky the dragon didn’t get me.”

She picked up a small bottle from a pocket; she drank its contents with a sigh of relief and tossed it on the ground. I noticed a dribble of remains. It had a violet color and smelled odd but still familiar, and I nearly reached for a taste but restrained myself. She stripped down to her tiny underclothes: a sheer bra and thong-styled underwear. It looked like she had made it from a Forsworn's outfit. She probably had. I stayed under my cloak to keep my skin from the sun, but I still stepped into the water and sat on a rock, watching the flow take leaves and flowers away. She slowly walked next to me; her legs, darkened with bruises, disappeared into the water.

How is she still alive, I thought to myself.

“That one?” I pointed to what looked like a crater just below her belly button. I looked to her back to see that whatever hit her, it came out the other side.

“Ah, yes,” she said with a grimace. “I wasn’t faring too well against a mage once. Ice spike after ice spike came flying my way.” I winced at the thought. As someone who regularly sent ice spikes into people and animals, I didn’t even want to imagine how it felt to take one. I stared at that scar, positive that she’d never be able to bear children. Would she even want to, leading the lifestyle she did?

“And these?” I got close to her and felt her left wrist where a jagged mark was.

“From, um, assassination…attempts, that is,” she said, moving away to face me.

“People have tried to assassinate you?”

“Yes, all the time. I get Dark Brotherhood assassins trailing me in the woods around Falkreath almost every time I’m in the area. And amateurs, too. They’re pretty sloppy, the amateurs. They usually have the writs on their person with the name of the person who wants me dead.”

“Have you killed any of them in retaliation?”

“Yes. But I prefer to just waltz into their towns and say hi. Some stare at me like I’m a ghost and others act perfectly normal.”

“Sounds amusing.”

“I get my amusements where I can.” She dipped her head into the water and came back up, her thin black hair sticking to her neck. “Such an interest in my body,” she said, smirking at me. “You know, if you want to really get to know me that way, you don’t have to ask all these roundabout questions. We both know that eventually, you’ll be pointing to my chest, my rear, and eventually my—”

“This isn’t like that!” I insisted. She laughed, echoing off nearby mountains and scaring away a few goats who had come to get a drink. I shook my head at her. “But really,” she said, “why the interest?”

“I’ve never seen anyone with so many battle scars on their body,” I said. “Who is alive, that is.”

“Coming from a Nord, that means a lot,” she said sincerely.

“How is it that you’ve survived this long?”

“Luck and skills, I guess.” She examined her own body, her all-dark eyes scanning her scars as one did with their own hand. “Perhaps mostly luck. There had been quite a few times I didn’t think I’d make it. People tell me I make it look easy. None of it has been easy. And I think that one day the toll will take my body from me. Or me from my body. Whichever comes first.”

I watched her as she spoke, unsure of how to respond. As a vampire, I never pondered death much. I couldn’t imagine being a mortal in her place.

She got up and walked deeper into the water to swim. I simply sat and watched her body, so bruised and battered, and by its look, on the brink of death.

*NOTE*, the roll mentioned in the title, was NOT my daughter’s first roll.

So, for context, my daughter (10f) has been listening to me (39m) and my son (17m) talk about D&D for a while. She’s been reading the “young adventurers guid, and has been adamant that we needed to teach her how to play.
This past weekend, the three of us sat down to play “Lost Mines of Phandelver” using the pre-Gen characters until she finishes making her own character.

Start the session, find the horses, and get attacked by the goblins.

Roll initiative: Gob, Daughter, Son, Gob, Gob, Gob.
Very first roll is the goblin launching an arrow at my son’s Halfling Rogue.

Natural 20.

Roll the D6 for damage (1D6+2), it’s a 6.
First attack of the game my sons Rogue (9HP) took 14 damage.

A few failed attacks from both the goblins and my daughter, she finally nailed one for 11 and took it out. Her next turn she decided to barter with the remaining goblins, her fine clothing for them to bugger off. DC of 15 (5 per goblin) she rolled a 16 and it worked.

TL;DR:
Son knocked out in first attack thanks to critical damage.
Daughter ends the encounter by bartering with the remaining goblins.

A very interesting introduction to D&D for her 🤣

I’ve started playing online DnD, and there is this player that I’m starting to suspect (casting spells he shouldn’t have etc etc) and I’ve talked to the DM and the player is her boyfriend, so I cant really argue. I can’t/ don’t want to leave the table for various reasons, and I want to talk to the DM and tell her to make rolling under a camera or in the website mandatory, but other than that, am I being paranoid? I know statistic sizw of 20 is very small, but all above 16 is a bit too much, right?

Edit: all rolls were higher than 23, with one being 21. According to our level and our stats (none above 18), its almost 20 rolls with none lower than 16.

Edit 2: This has happened enough times for me to decide to count and note hos rolls

Edit 3: we are level 4

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/5martist/

Process Video: https://youtu.be/y5Lku79CDiE

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@5MARTIST

Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/5martist

Artstation: https://www.artstation.com/smartist

Concepts for a genesis in my world. Essentially the Wood Elves of my world. Tattoos are a big part of their culture. They share a tarnished and brutal history with the dryads. The dryads believe the Arbrels betrayed them.

So this is my first ever character as a player and I'm very excited to finally have a PC

Tek is an Aarakocra Druid that was found as an egg inside a chest by a pirate crew, he has lived all of his life in the ocean, until one day he woke up on the beach of an unkown island, inside the same chest he was found and snug with his capitain's coat. Then Lulú found him (a water spirit that uses the shape of an octopus) and taught him about the ways of the nature and druidry. Now, after a year stranded, he finally has returned to the mainland hoping to find his old crew/family

Hey everyone, thought I’d share this portrait I drew of a client’s OC.

Professor Hildegard was once the brightest goblin at The Academy — until an experiment went catastrophically wrong. While attempting to eavesdrop on the conversations of celestial beings, she overloaded an arcane listening device and lost her right ear in the explosion. Refusing defeat, she replaced it with a delicate ear mechanism of her own design. It now twitches constantly, catching whispers, secrets, and occasionally voices from other dimensions.

Always find this amusing to ask the community but for you dms out there what’s the worst player you ever had to manage in a campaign? I don’t mean worst as in struggling to play the game but more in the sense of unpleasant/ rude or just disruptive to the game in general.

I’m currently doing a neverwinter campaign with a couple of my friends, but one of them really really really wants to find a way to make a bomb and blow up neverwinter(or a smaller settlement. Basically just something) but I have been saying no. The reception from the players have been mixed regarding this to. I just wanted to get other’s opinions of if me saying no is overstretching my power as a DM or not.

Thanks for any feedback.