I one time did a campaign in DND where the entire party woke up in a trash heap, memories wiped, when a man in shining white armor approached them. He helped them up, healed them, and helped them escape what was essentially the dump and find their way into the sunlight. He told them of the tale of a wicked king of immense power who bargained for his abilities from a demon, hoping to save his kingdom, and succumbed to the evil after his wife died. The wife had a pearl necklace, and it was the man’s duty to find those pearls, because they held a magic in them that could defeat the king.
This particular NPC was startlingly overpowered at first, right a long the levels of 6 while everyone else was just starting out, and he helped them along in the most dire situations, healing, defeating, and even resurrecting for them. There would be periods where he would be gone, and the party would have to face a crypt full of mummies together, or dive into the deepest parts of the ocean and retrieve these milky white pearls that would give them the ability to help their friend and defeat the wicked king. Slowly, their memories came back to them, and that was a stark comfort for them, but the entire time, there seemed to be a piece missing.
After they retrieved 5 pearls (they broke the 6th one), they journied with the man to the wicked king’s castle, and fought their way through endless ranks of guards, undead, demons, and even a lich, until they made their way to the sacred bed chamber of the king, that they all remembered the story of from before they had awoken in that garbage pile. They opened the doors, only to find it empty, save the usual furniture, marred by scratches and the ancient scrawl of demons. The man in the white armor sighed and walked into the bedroom.
And his armor changed from white to pitch black, and the whole party remembered suddenly. That was the face of the wicked king, the face that smiled at them whenever he healed them, the face that looked stern as they suggested stupids things to find the pearls. Apparently, in lapses of the demon’s control, the king had found a way to set him self up for defeat, by bringing his wive’s pearls along with brave, powerful warriors. Every absence he felt was where he had to return to the demon’s control and become the wicked king again, but he was determined to fight himself, to rid his own evil from the world, to end this curse of immortality and see his loved one again.
I made the party fight the final boss, and they saw the eyes of a friend.
They all cried, and I am no longer allowed to DM for them.
my dad was saying how he thinks that at every birthday after 18 more and more things should become legal. so by the time you’re like 60 you finally get your meth and arson liscence
if you make it to 100 instead of getting a card or whatever it is from the queen you get to commit treason
The thing that always gets me is how we still frame the idea of trying to be a good caring person as a huge laborious inconvenientinherent sacrifice instead of deeply comforting and rewarding and beneficial to one’s own self and a fundamental human need. Like joke really is on us, the loneliness of modern life is not mysterious.
my favourite thing about hercule poirot is that once he solved the murder he just makes everyone involved sit in a circle and dig shit about everyone before telling who’s the killer he’s like “i know we’re here because someone is dead but lemme tell you susan is the illegitimate child of paul and bethany is in love with her step brother. this had absolutly nothing to do with the killing but i thought yall should know tbh. now about the murder”
you know what’s more freeing than killing yourself? running away to a small town and getting a job as a waitress. buying a cheap car and sticking a bed in the back and driving southwest. adopting a cat. learning a new instrument. moving apartments. visiting a friend in another city. chopping all your hair off.
you can kill your current life without dying. you can kill this version of you and make a new one.
maybe I’m just a bipolar sucker for rebirth but sometimes that thought is all that keeps me alive
pulling a wholesome gone girl > actually killing yourself