The hunt for Xavier Ligonnès is enough to drive you crazy. It’s like looking for a lost object, a bank card for example, of which we can determine the exact moment of disappearance: we used it to pay, it was there, and the next moment it is not there anymore. Logic dictates that we look for it where we usually store it (a wallet, a handbag), then where it could be (a back pocket of pants, a hall cabinet), and the less we find it , the more we seem to see it everywhere. Faced with absence, the brain constructs images (the credit card in an office drawer, as a bookmark in a book, forgotten on the counter of the last store) but these are fictions or mirages; they encourage further research but they do not provide a solution. Xavier Ligonnès’s apparent volatilization follows the same logic and produces the same effects on the investigation. The more weeks and months go by, the more places to look get smaller. Emmanuel Teneur ends up leading the investigators to the Société Générale agency on Place Royale in Nantes, but the safe he holds there is simply empty. A request for information on Joven Soliman is sent to the security attaché for the French Embassy in the Philippines. He is a sedevacantist priest, a fringe of traditionalist Catholicism who considers the Pope to be an imposter. The attaché transmits the hours of mass where he officiates. A trip to the Philippines is being considered, but that would mean going to the other side of the world to look for a needle in the thousands of islands of the archipelago. If this track has never been closed, nothing has supported it to date. Since we must push logic to the end, the investigators even contact the American authorities to corroborate or contradict the story of protected witnesses told by Ligonnès in his famous letter. The DEA has never heard of the individual, and the liaison officer based at the Miami consulate assures us that his last trip to the United States was in 2003: Ligonnès arrived in Florida on July 18 and left on August 22. The study of his entourage also did not highlight anyone capable of providing false papers to the fugitive, and if he had gone through a criminal network, the police believed that an informant would undoubtedly have warned them to protect himself. Then there are the news reports: the portrait of Ligonnès goes around France, and even if he has undoubtedly changed his physical appearance, his hairstyle, perhaps had even resorted to cosmetic surgery, someone, somewhere, might recognize him one day. After all, that’s how John List, a New Jersey insurance salesman who killed his wife and mother in 1971, was arrested. He waited for two of his children to return from school to coldly shoot them, then attended his youngest son’s football game before shooting bullets through him at home. He evaded justice for 18 years until a co-worker recognized him from a report on America’s Most Wanted. Rarely has a criminal case given rise to as many appeals as that of Ligonnès, because his stalking not only bewitches the police, it torments an entire country. More than 1000 reports, thousands of pages of depositions, letters, verifications. You have to imagine the miles of printed paper that this represents when they are stacked on a desk. The most recent: in July, after the broadcast of a Netflix documentary on the subject in the United States, the producers of the film claimed to have received an interesting lead in Chicago; but it’s just one more drop in the bucket. Xavier Dupont de Ligonnès has been seen in Annecy, Nancy, Cholet, Corsica (several times); on the side of a road, thumbs up, by a French tourist in Las Vegas; disguised as a chimney sweep in Nîmes; in a hotel in Cantal and in a pizzeria where he paid cash in a hurry; seen again in Germany, in Italy, and heard on the telephone by the reception of the psychiatric hospital of Troyes. Since he disappeared looking like the ordinary neighbor, since he was a representative and his profession has taken him to all corners of France, there is no less reason to see him in Mulhouse than in Roche-sur-Yon, and you can simply see him everywhere. Aire de Lançon-Provence in July 2020 Extracts: “It was the same look, except that he looked very sad, in the west, but he had the same glasses as in the photo you are showing me”; “He looked like a man like everyone else, but there was something odd in his eyes;” “Yesterday, around 1:00 pm, I was watching the news on television on the TFI channel. I saw a report where an individual killed his children and his wife before disappearing into the wild. (...) Seeing the gentleman in the photo, I made the connection with the person whom I had crossed Sunday afternoon because he had the same smile.” At the Vauvert tourist office: “I hardly look at the news, but Thursday evening I saw the photo of Mr. Ligonnès, I had the impression of having already seen him, my heart was racing.” Between Carpentras and Avignon, when he comes back from the bakery, the manager of one of Nicolas Sarkozy’s brothers crosses paths with a man with a beige bob, which he is certain is the fugitive. “I flashed,” he says. “For me, there is no doubt. This is him.” Still more letters are sent to the police to offer them help. An amateur astrologer requests a copy of the suspect’s birth certificate to establish a birth chart, a woman in child-like writing recommended a great medium who had helped her find her daughter who had become a junkie in Marseille. A prisoner asked in writing to be sent to Guinea to go hunt him down in the jungle, attaching to his letter a list of the necessary equipment, including infrared glasses and a “samurai sword.” With each letter, with each phone call to report a suspicious individual, investigators attempt to cross-reference the information. They patiently collect the testimonies of the depositors to know where Xavier Ligonnès was seen, if he was accompanied or not, what was his size and his outfit. Inconsistent testimonies or those referring to individuals who are too young (Ligonnès would be 59 years old today) and too small (he measures a little over 1.80 meters) are discarded. For the others, investigators check the CCTV recordings, when they have not been erased and when the cameras have actually recorded on tape. If the person has been spotted pumping gasoline, in a Géant Casino, or in a Courtepaille, they trace the means of payment used and seize the duplicates of bank cards. They give priority to the restaurants, especially the Buffalo Grill, Ligonnès’ favorite establishment. And when the trail is still hot and the dishes haven’t been done yet, they collect DNA from the plates and cutlery. A few months after the start of the investigation, the investigating judge in charge of the case will even be forced to ask them to slow down, the seals starting to take on the appearance of a china cabinet in a large restaurant. The Total service station in Lançon-Provence, July 2020 The PJ of Nantes believed on several occasions to finally have in hand the winning ticket and to be on the point of intercepting Ligonnès. This was the case in Borgo, where a photo taken from the video surveillance of a supermarket in this small Corsican town was very similar. Upon verification, it was only a local. They believed in it even more in January 2018 when they were told that an individual with a strong resemblance to Xavier Ligonnès was at the Saint-Désert Notre-Dame de Pitié monastery near Roquebrune-sur-Argens. About twenty police officers raided and searched the premises until they came across Brother Jean-Marie Joseph, who certainly looked disturbingly like Ligonnès, but who was not him. In still other cases, the police were never able to “close the track,” and it is perhaps Ligonnès who was seen. For example, in Lançon-Provence, April 26, 2011. That day, at 2:44 am, Mahjoub B., a handler by profession, parks his vehicle at the Total service station after the Lançon-Provence toll. He fills up, then goes to the store to pay. On his way, he passes a 45- to 50-year-old man, about six feet tall, who hangs out there between the gas pumps and the store. When he returns to his vehicle, his colleague asks him if he has seen the man, whom he is convinced is the one everyone is looking for, the one who killed his family in Nantes. Mahjoub then takes a new look at the individual, notices that he is wearing glasses, light jeans, that he has brown hair a little graying and a beard of a day. At his feet, four rigid shopping bags, one red, one white, one brown and one whose color he cannot distinguish. Inside the store, employees also noticed the individual. He’s been out for almost three hours. At one point, he walks in to ask for free coffee, as part of a promotion. Behind her cash register, Jocelyne H. notes a detail: he is missing a tooth. “The second on the left, I believe,” she says when heard by investigators. This is information that has never filtered out and yet, it’s true – a little detail, Xavier Ligonnès was missing a tooth. Little by little, the space has filled in, but you can always see it when he smiles. The images from the station’s surveillance cameras are confusing: if this man is not the one we are looking for, it must be his twin brother. At 3 a.m., the cameras show him hitchhiking by a Volkswagen Combi, which investigators quickly find. The driver’s name is Christophe B. He has not heard of the case, and he must be one of the only ones in the country; but Christophe is no longer listening to the news because, he says, “the news is bad all the time.” From the hitchhiker on the night of the 25th to the 26th, he remembers that he “did not smell very good” and that he had a growing beard. They didn’t discuss much. The man simply told him that he was coming from Paris where he had gone to see “his sick old father,” and that he wanted to take the train to Aix-en-Provence. Christophe dropped him off at a motorway exit, the 30 or the 31, between 4 a.m. and 4.15 a.m. The surveillance cameras at Aix train station allow you to get back on track. He is filmed on the forecourt at 6 am, he wears light pants, a dark jacket. He buys a ticket at 1.20 euro, free destination. Then we lose track. Despite all the checks, despite all the cameras, it will be impossible to track this man perfectly resembling Dupont de Ligonnès, who could nevertheless have confirmed that he was, at least on this date, still alive. How can one suddenly evaporate in plain sight, and how could a man who has collected chess all his life accomplish this feat? The XDDL mystery makes it possible to scaffold all the theories. These flourish in books, in docudramas and, of course, on the Internet. We imagine Ligonnès protected by the secrecy of a monastery, flown to the United States, where he can go unnoticed thanks to his English without an accent, or even on the escape alongside a woman he would have manipulated. The police officers in charge of the case do not work on theories or psychological profiles, but according to a scientific approach: they always start from a fact, which opens a track, which they then explore until the end, close, and move on to another. This method is also a way to protect yourself from endless guesswork, or insanity, but it doesn’t always work. Several times, the track looks like a highway towards the fugitive, and the police are convinced that they will finally close this investigation. But they end up stumbling upon the worst thing ever, as was the case with the allusion to Emmanuel Teneur’s sailboat: coincidences. Coincidence number 1. When the Ligonnès C5 was discovered in the Formula 1 car park in Roquebrune, the night watchman informed them that two reservations had been made in the name of Dupont Xavier, one on April 5 and the another on April 14. The hotel manager then specifies that the first reservation was actually made for April 6. That day, however, XDDL was in Nantes, probably digging the grave of Thomas, murdered the day before. Had he thought of accomplishing his crimes earlier or had he reserved a room for an accomplice, who might have been hiding something for him? The videos of April 5 and 6 are no longer available, but payment for the room was made with a Crédit Agricole credit card. The number gives a name, Faiçal E., and an address. Could it be an accomplice? The checks are launched immediately lead to a man who simply used “Dupont Xavier” as an assumed name - like Ligonnès - to book a night in the same hotel, the same year, the same month, within ten days. Coincidence number 2. The liaison officer in Miami launches research around the various aliases used by XDDL, for operations of “mystery shopper” or to stay in hotels. In the FBI file, he finds a certain Xavier Laurent, one of Ligonnès’s favorite nicknames, installed in Jacksonville, north of Florida. Jacksonville is not just any city. This is where Hugues, the cousin of XDDL lived, and it is also this locality that Ligonnès and his friend Michel Rétif declared to customs in 1990 during their trip to the United States. At the very end of the personalized letter sent to Michel on April 8, Xavier Ligonnès seemed to allude to it: “I will think about you there.(Not the right to tell you where, but you went there with me...in November 90…a clue to dig.LOL).” But this Xavier Laurent is another twist of fate: the police come across a certain Evan Shaffer, a petty criminal who has chosen this alias to commit crimes. Coincidence number 3. Ten days before the crimes, XDDL reconnects with a childhood sweetheart, Catherine K., whom he met in Versailles in the 1980s. Between March 22 and 24, they exchange text messages and try to find a date to meet the week of April 12, in Chamonix. These messages intrigue the investigators, some answers seem surprising, almost illogical, and they suspect Ligonnès of having wanted to ensure a logistical relay in his escape. A little later, a certain Patrick O. reports having seen XDDL in the queue of a Sixt car rental agency at Nice airport on April 17, 2011. By peeling the names of dozens of people having rented a car that day, the police officers miss the infarction: in capital letters, white on black, appears the surname of Catherine, who would have rented a vehicle at 1:30 am. A few hours later, their heart rate drops again: it was only a perfect disambiguation. Each coincidence causes the same chain of reactions. First a eureka!, the certainty of having finally found the tiny detail from which to trace everything. The police then cast their nets like fishermen on the high seas, telephone or banking requisitions, requests for listings, identity checks. Then they wait. It can last from a few hours to several weeks, and inevitably it is a burning, nagging wait, tense by the fear that the track will fly away. Finally, there is the immense disappointment and the obligation to face reality again: Xavier Ligonnès is still nowhere to be found, a track has flown again, and we have to hoist the rock up the mountain again. Those who have worked or are still working on the affair strive to maintain a cold, rational, police facade. But little by little, by dint of chasing a shadow - not even a shadow, a ghost - obsession lurks. One of them, a police officer with a professional Protestant pastor, now out of the investigation, still returned until recently to consult the investigation file every week, saying he simply wanted to put the 12,000 pages of documents in order. For a year, a criminal analyst has also been mobilized. He enters all the elements of the file in a software which digests them and spits out, perhaps, new threads to draw. In the meantime, the two police officers who are still following the investigation - one at the PJ in Nantes, one at the OCRVP, in Paris - “live” the case, as their colleagues say. Among these thousands of pages there is no doubt a clue that has gone unnoticed or, better, a lead that has not yet been explored. Track number 1. Who typed “fraternité saint-thomas becket” on Google on April 3 at 11:34 pm, before clicking on a link in the Cité-Catholique forum? Is it the same person who, the same night at 2:01 am, from an iPhone, did the search for “communion state mortal sin,” bringing it to the same forum? On April 8, the user of this phone will in any case send the search engine the request “hello Chacou”, which will lead him (her) again to the Cité-Catholique forum. Chacou was one of the pseudonyms of Xavier Ligonnès. Investigators saw crazier coincidences, but still: can it really be someone other than Xavier Ligonnès, who himself connected to Cité-Catholique almost every day of his escape? The last article published on the site about Saint-Thomas Becket, an ultra-traditionalist fraternity which practices mass in Latin, dates from January 2009. It indicates the name of its founder, Father Jean-Pierre Gac, and specifies this: “Born in the diocese of Blois where there are two communities (…), the fraternity has also extended in the diocese of Toulon - a parish is also entrusted to them in Ollioules.” Ollioules is located six kilometers from La Seyne-on-Mer, where XDDL spent its penultimate known night, and 94 kilometers from Roquebrune. Jean-Pierre Gac was questioned by the police but claimed to have never been in contact with the fugitive. Investigators have always believed in the possibility that Ligonnès took refuge in a monastery in the Var. They considered to search them one by one, before understanding that there are dozens and dozens of brotherhoods and fraternities, that they are not always castles of the Purple Rivers but sometimes simple farms, lost in the hinterland. To mount a search, it would be necessary to ensure that they do not communicate with each other, and therefore to visit them all at the same time. The examining magistrate quickly tempered the fervor of the police and declared the operation impossible. Track number 2. Xavier Ligonnès had two secret Facebook accounts. The first is named after his favorite country singer, Waylon Jennings. One of his nieces had also found him a month before the crimes, sending him a message, “but who is behind this nickname?,” to which XDDL had immediately replied “How did you manage to arrive on the Waylon Jennings Facebook profile? Too clever! Microsoft Advantage??? Kiss.” The second account concerns a certain “George Town” residing in Nantes and is linked to one of Ligonnès’ many email addresses, [email protected]. The police send a requisition to the management of Facebook in Palo Alto to obtain the creation and connection logs of the two profiles. The answer comes in days: the first was created in February 2010, the second in December 2007, when France had barely discovered the social network. Above all, the response indicates that Ligonnès connected to the two accounts on the night of April 4 to 5, between the first assassinations and that of Thomas. The profiles have since been deleted but suggest he could have used them to communicate with a third party. Catherine K., the youthful lover that XDDL contacted a few days before the tragedy, also reported to the police that she had been approached by a certain Philippe Steiner, whom she did not know, around May 20. He sent her a strange message, suggesting that they might have had a relationship in the past. When she went to respond, the profile had already been deleted. Today there are almost 100 Facebook accounts on behalf of Waylon Jennings, some are created and deleted every day. Track number 3. When the Ligonnès family is having their last meal on April 3, 2011, around 9 pm, a young woman walks through the glass doors of the police station on Place Waldeck-Rousseau in Nantes. Originally from a small village near Vannes, Julie is a BTS student and comes to file a complaint: the Twingo that her father lets her drive has been broken into, probably during the night. There was not much inside, but Julie reported the theft of her car radio as well as the vehicle’s logbook, which she normally stored in a small Renault gray faux leather pouch. This same pouch was found on April 22 in the dresser of the Ligonnès living room where Xavier used to store his papers, during the investigation the day after the discovery of the bodies. The police did not follow this track: they put the break-in of Julie’s car on the account of one of the Ligonnès sons, Arthur, who had already been arrested for theft of a bicycle and driving under the influence of cannabis. But why would Arthur have taken the vehicle papers with the car stereo, and why would he put them in the middle of his father’s papers? And if the theft was committed by Xavier Ligonnès a few hours before killing his family, how can this be explained? Was he able to steal other identity papers to facilitate his escape? In this case, it is always about cars. Those imported by XDDL from the United States, the Citroën C5 from the escape, the vehicles he claimed had been stolen over the years: the first at the Brest police station in 1998, while living in Pornic, a second at the same time at the Saint-Nazaire police station, and then again, in Nantes, on May 17, 2006, a Golf convertible finally found then sold a few months later to a mechanic, a friend of Cédric M. Cédric M. is never far away when it comes to cars. He is also a mechanic, that’s how Ligonnès met him in Vannes a few years earlier. He is one of the recipients of the departure letter, therefore a close friend. He was even the first employee of the RDC. Ligonnès regularly went to visit him in Locmalo in the heart of Morbihan, a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Nantes. With Cédric and his partner, Renaud, they went to the local creperie. They had lunch there together on March 31, 2011, four days before the crimes. In the village, it is said that Ligonnès took care of the dark accounts of the “guys,” who have quite a reputation. Could he have built up a slush fund there that no one would have found until now? Cédric and Renaud’s garage is not indicated by any sign. It is at the end of a road. In the yard, wrecks of American cars and a goat on a leash. Inside, Renaud is working on a shiny yellow Cadillac. His attitude is confusing. He is angry with the police who have never come to question him when he is, according to him, “the last to have seen [Xavier] alive. But I will not tell you when, because that the date is important,” he adds before returning to his Cadillac, wrench in hand. To date, Renaud has still not been heard by investigators. At the same time, reports continue to flow. Ligonnès seen in Mulhouse, on the four lanes between Saint-Brieuc and Rennes in a Peugeot 308 and overtaking on the right, Ligonnès seen again in Tunis and Toulouse. Ligonnès seen, but never caught. Next Section-Part 2D
[WM] Wishing You Well. (Quest Write Ups for Midmouth's Myco-Mess, Of Dice and Deceit, Moving Moorings, The Sending, The Burning Sands, Blasphemous Rumours, Monster Mash, Trouble in Wedding Town, and The Ruined City)
Wishing You Well. (Quest Write Ups for Midmouth's Myco-Mess, Of Dice and Deceit, Moving Moorings, The Sending, The Burning Sands, Blasphemous Rumours, Monster Mash, Trouble in Wedding Town, and The Ruined City) It has been awhile since I have wrote, I know. At first, I wrote to the Curator, as she is the one that we report to. Yet, her disdain for my writing has caused me to put off this task. Why bother if I would only face her derision? I thought this way until wise guildmates urged me to change my views. The Curator may not appreciate my words, but I do not mind writing them. And… there are others besides the Curator who would like to hear my thoughts, and adventures. So, to the Ashcoat family, I wish you well, and enclosed below are my adventures so far. Midmouth's Myco-Mess DM: Jacob S. Players: Thomas S. (Nikola), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat), Ethan J. (Naeron), Peyton L. (Genevieve), Derek M. (Ice Sculpture), Nessa T. (Dill Picks) Dear Zemai, I am aware of the fact that you enjoy festivals, and I believe you would enjoy the tale of the first quest I went on for the Mavros Guild. It was a rather simple task, go to a town and handle a small problem during a festival. The town was called Midmouth, and they were celebrating a ritual for some goddess, although to be clear, I could not tell you which one. The lack of religious studies from being sent off at a young age may have caused an issue in this regard, I admit. After meeting with the organizers of the festival, they instructed us to take time and enjoy ourselves before delving into the sewers at night. We followed their instructions to the best of our abilities, meeting a fortune teller. We stood around, learning about our fates and destiny, although I suppose some of my guildmates suspected it was. Well, the word is not appropriate to write in a formal letter to an Ashcoat. I, however, liked my fortune. The Lovers, it has a ring to it. Even if it may be silly, it gave me a flash of hope. With another guildmate, I then went to a game of target practice. I suppose you would be interested in this series of events, Zemai. You said that I would make an excellent brother, had I ever been at the estate. And not to brag, but I do make a good big brother, in a way. I won a doll for a guildmate. Then, I used magic to change it into a better form. And then I snuck it into his bag. As a gift. After a long day, we went into sewers to meet these disgusting diseased rats, handling them quickly. We found the source of the issues. They were Myconids, yet somehow were sapient, speaking to us in Common. I believed that instead of resorting to bloodshed, we could come to an arrangement, a deal of sorts. We snuck these Myconids to the Guild Hall’s basement, and that was the end of this quest, to be continued another day. Of Dice and Deceit DM: Kennon C. Players: Ethan M. (Noizu), Alea H. (Hazel), Hunter M. (Oliver), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat) I suppose of all people, you, Darwin, deserve an explanation of what went on in Kostroma. After all, I feared I may have caused your predicament. After careful reflection, I know this is not the case. Regardless, I owe you my apologies and my story. Knowing you as well as I do, I know you will find this story humorous. My time in the Alchemist’s Guild has graciously given me the experience of being in Kostroma. However, not in this city. Krogstadt, as I recall correctly. An icy town just on a bay, gondolas all around. Of course, I changed my form, before the quest begun, into a plain man to avoid suspicion when possible. Our task required us to meet a rather… suspicious character owning a run-down casino. He explained that he intercepted a request for security at another casino, and that we were to do two jobs. Of course, we agreed to this. Double the payment sounded like an amazing idea, although… We would find out that things were not that simple. He requested that we gather dirt while working to take down his competition. And as I recall correctly, he did not seem to care whether said dirt were true, but only that we give him something to work with. We then went to our second job, enforcing the rules of the casino and the owner. Over our time working, however, we decided that the owner was someone we did not want to screw over. He seemed to genuinely care about his employees, his business, his livelihood. Like a more notable version of the Curator. A close family. And yet, because we decided to play both sides, we ended up hurting him. During our time in the city, we were followed by an interesting pair distantly related to him, although we never found their intentions. And in the end, we fed false information back to our hirer, still getting payment from both. With some, it did not sit right. For me? Well. I took it. A deal is a deal, and a businessman would understand. There were questions left unanswered, as we delved into matters not our own. But for once, I was satisfied with the knowledge I received, against the Ashcoat ideals. Moving Moorings DM: Jacob S. Players: Thomas S. (Nikola), Austin G. (Orville), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat), Declen P. (Oz), Brandon Q. (Ziggy), CJ J. (Naoise) I suppose that eventually, someone complained enough to make this job necessary, forcing us to move the Myconids from their home in the Guild basement to a mountain a good distance away into a mountain’s cave. With the creatures acutely allergic to the sun, we travelled at night, maintaining a cover of darkness until nearly early morning, where we had to use a variety of methods to prevent harm to our clients. After an uneventful walk, we found a cave, with quite the elaborate ruins, an intricate door blocking off the inner workings of the cave. One of the guildmates on this quest used an impressive amount of strength given his small body to break down the door. I suppose the ghouls in the cave did not like that, and they sprang forward to attack. In a strange circumstance, the shadows that are ever-present about me summoned a purple flame of great destruction, immolating their undead corpses to ash. Exploring further, we quite foolishly walked into a grand room, the doors behind us shutting, preventing any retreat. These hideous creatures, Bodaks attacking as my guildmates panicked. These monsters almost killed us all, with an aura of decay and pain. At one point, I fell unconscious, perhaps nearly dying completely, yet somehow, my guildmates were able to pull through, healing the downed party members after this battle. Stuck in the shoulder of one of the Bodaks was this cruel, malicious dagger, perhaps a source of great evil in the world. As you would expect, we took it back, trying to sell it without much success. The Sending DM: Jacob S. Players: Ethan M. (Noizu), Nessa T. (Dill Picks), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat), Kennon C. (Zed), CJ J. (Naoise), Brandon Q. (Ziggy) Apparently, I seem to get on an above average amount of quests relating to festivals or ceremonies. This time, we visited a small town near the ocean that was preparing for a ceremony called “The Sending”. However, this ceremony was delayed due to the attacks of some strange monster, only appearing at night. The Clerics in our party feared it may be divine retribution of some sort, although we quickly dismissed that notion. The beast at night was a type of basilisk, proving incredibly dangerous as it turned its victims to stone with a bite. Unfortunately, we would forget this information until in the midst of battle, of course at night. One of the Guildmates found a small child who survived the attack, bringing him back to his parent. Quite heartwarming in a way, I will admit. After that day of search, rescue, and reconnaissance, we slept in a conjured tower, awaiting another attack. And the one on watch at the mid of the night awoke us to the sight of this serpent, rampaging yet again as it claimed more lives. Quickly, we sprung into action. Yet this foe proved challenging, turning Dill into stone. You’d like Dill, Zemai. And I believe Zed almost drowned… I… almost died again. Yes, that is true. No matter though, someone soon slayed the snake, and another Cleric brought Dill back from petrification. The Burning Sands DM: Jacob S. Players: Ethan J. (Naeron), Will B. (Flake), Nathan G. (Teepimeek), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat), Josh D. (Beryl), Thomas S. (Nikola) Our prowess of our guild soon stretched to Ashkiri, and our services were once again requested, this time to find a missing caravan deep in the desert. This quest brough back up unpleasant memories of what the Curator would say to me before she shipped me off to the Alchemist’s Guild. “The Desert is Deadly, anyone lost has perished.” That matter-of-fact tone rang true on this quest, as we would later discover in Qad Takun. After some rather frivolous shopping, we made our way into the dunes, getting lost on the second day in a great sandstorm, something I did not miss from Arkheion. With us stumbling randomly in the dark dust, we soon encountered an ominous orb, vaguely conjuring a feeling of recognition in my mind as an evil creature rose to protect it. Perhaps most frighteningly, it could stop magic, the ever-present shadows about me put into a stasis as the monster stared deep into my very soul. Yet, luckily for us, there were archers who would pierce its hide with arrows until it finally fell. The horror did not end there, however, Nikola, another guildmate, had his arm wither away upon contact of this orb. We managed to destroy this insidious device with another strange weapon, yet that thought lingered in our minds… What was that orb doing here? Blasphemous Rumours DM: Thomas S. Players: Lauren S. (Gani), Casimir B. (Dr. Faust), Nic R. (Gleich), Sarah M. (Ender), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat). With the fall winds soon approaching, I found myself on another quest, travelling to Deerreach along with guildmates I was not too familiar with. Our missions always had a way to fix that, however, as even the quickest travel times gave us the opportunity to learn about each other. Deerreach was a rather interesting city, and I am shocked I never visited it in my travels as a part of the Alchemist’s Guild. The most notable aspect was the mage’s college, yet it was not like any ordinary school I have seen. Corruption lay in every corner, and we were to be complicit to not cause a panic. What was the problem? Students coming back with strange alterations to themselves or disappearing outright. We were to be silent about this aspect, and despite my innermost objections, we were. Instead, we thought ourselves as detectives, seeking out the source of the eldritch influence on this city. Some split to ask professors, others went to one of the temples nearby, while I and another guildmate went to the medical center to meet a victim. Upon meeting her, I realized I was out of my league. Yet, the knowledge proved tantalizing, as the Curator trained me in her limited time with me. “Knowledge above all else.” A creature of absolute insanity approached me, gifting me temporary knowledge of the entire city’s layout. It was projected by the victim, and apparently, she learned to do this from a tutor. What sort of tutor dealt with aberrations such as these? I had to find out, not only for the job, but for my own sake, to learn about these shadows… Our party reconvened, sharing crucial information, and with that, I knew where to go. We split once more, finding the source of these tutoring sessions after a rather… odd encounter with the clergy. I will not go into detail… The tutors were a pair of Chuuls, working for a long slumbering goddess I prepared to meet. Luckily, my guildmate stopped me, despite my annoyance at the time. He and I convinced these Chuuls to stop working for a possible uncaring goddess, and to make their teachings official somehow. Somehow, this worked, giving a peaceful solution to what may have required bloodshed. No. We did not inform the Headmaster of everything. He did not deserve to know. Monster Mash DM: Thomas S. Players: Jacob S. (6B), Nessa T. (Dill), Nathan G. (Teepimeek), Declen P. (Oz), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat), Derek M. (Ice Sculpture) Apparently, nothing normal can occur in the town of Deerreach, now monsters roamed about that required slaying. So, we sharpened our knives, prepared our spells, and prayed to the gods above this would be a normal fieldtrip. It was not. Once again, we meet with perhaps the shadiest person to exist (yes even beating out the shadow sorcerer me), vaguely hinting at the fact these prowling creatures could have been created by a former professor. As usual, people were either dead or missing. As usual, we were to not cause a panic. As usual, we could not warn anyone. Of course! Things cannot be this simple! Just kill some beasts, find the ‘Mad’ professor who did this. We instead met a strange herpetologist who kept these things as pets. Of course, he created them! He wanted us to instead weaken these creatures and promised loot. Like the mercenaries we were, we agreed to help him. I agreed because having someone like that against you is a fool’s play. Yet the first monster liquified a girl in front of our very eyes, dragging her into the well to consume later. No amount of rage we took out on this thing would ease our fury. The herpetologist soon captured the weakened beast with a spell, instructing us that there would be more later to beat. The next beast just ate sheep, thankfully. The fight was not difficult, and the former professor added a second, then third creature to his collection. The horrors were not over though, this hellish nightmare continued as we discovered the madman’s ultimate project, a snake… made of snakes. There is a reason I am drinking while writing this letter. Let me just take a moment to thank the Shadows for allowing me to shift the forms of foes and friends alike, as I changed one into a giant bipedal feathered reptile, and another to a giant crocodile. With that, they quickly nearly dispatched this failed experiment. The professor captured this one as well while I fought swarms of more snakes. Thank the Shadows for fireball… Do not show this letter to the Curator, lest she tries to recruit someone as insane as her. I still trust the insane ex-professor more than the Headmaster. Trouble in Wedding Town DM: Jacob S. Players: CJ J. (Naoise), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat), Ethan J. (Kass), Hunter M. (Oliver), Alea H. (Hazel), Dylan H. (Dustorin) At least this quest was to be happy, a marriage in Ashkiri. We were to be bodyguards as this was a politically controversial arrangement, and that is all that we were told. Yet the secretary seemed to know more than she let on, and the general atmosphere pointed to unease and unrest. In other news, water is wet. No one hires the guild for a simple quest. The journey was long, as to be expected to a trip to Ashkiri. More specifically, Saar. I knew of this place, in fact, I believe it was not too far from Arkheion. Relatively speaking, of course. Once we arrived, we had time before the wedding begun. Some of our guildmates took initiative, scouting out reasons for our employment. I, however, relaxed, naïvely believing that this would be a normal day, with a normal wedding. When the moment of paranoia reached my mind, I took to the skies, learning of the city’s layout. At the wedding, we all stood in different positions, the archer perched above, the druid and I in the seats, and others scattered about. Unfortunately, we would only know something is wrong until darkness moved across the area, a rather unfortunate look for me. The Cleric somehow already with the bride and groom… as we all rushed the scene. The bride was poisoned, and we thought her dead. The darkness cleared and it was quite possibly the worst position all of us could be in: framed. No amount of convincing seemed to work, and the guards approached us with harmful intent. The Shadows reached out, gripping two of my guildmates with its talons and turning them into giant eagles. And as this happened, I instructed them to fly. We managed to escape with everyone, including the bride’s presumable corpse. However, one cannot kill love this easily. She lived. We then explained the situation as she confessed her family was inflicted with a curse. One long, awkward walk later, we found our carriage driver. So. If Saar falls into disarray or crumbles into dust soon, we may have had a hand in it. The Ruined City DM: Jacob S. Players: Kat R. (Cynic), Ethan J. (Kass), CJ J. (Naoise), Thomas S. (Nikola), Declen P. (Oz), M.E. H. (Galileo Ashcoat) Archelogy: a surprisingly dangerous field. At least this time we somewhat knew what we were getting into. Travelling to Kostroma, some of my guildmates were caught off guard by the cold, requiring new dress. Others took advantage of the long trip, Nikola, er, Doctor Ivanovich, crafting a surplus of magic items. I, instead, took the time to relax, study, and learn more about the Shadows that plague me so. I was not very successful… yet. Soon, we were led to ruins by a pair of archaeologists. We told them to stay behind us as we encountered undead warforged. How is that possible, you might ask? We are not quite sure either, but they were unfortunately… sisters to a guildmate. We scoured for items that might belong to this guildmate now, coming back with several magic items. Moving forward, we were attacked by dragon-like creatures, the archer making short work of both. The creatures seemed to gather around a cathedral, and yet again, we encountered one of those forsaken red orbs, with another, more frightening monster guarding it. This battle would test our abilities to their fullest. I stood back and boosted my guildmates. To two of them, I blessed with speed, the Shadows enhancing their movements. Yet that was not even enough, our resources slowly flickering away like the flame on a short wick of the candle. As a last resort, once again, the Shadows came through. They siphoned energy from some parts of my magic reserves, gifting energy to others before it clicked what they wanted. And suddenly, the speed stopped, the guildmates falling into lethargy. I thought we were dead, my concentration breaking in a moment like this would prove fatal. Until somehow, two kings rise from the darkness. Lizard kings, but kings, nevertheless. And they finally defeated this monster. Thank you, Shadows.
Hello Mr Reddit and the REEEEEE army. I originally posted my story in EntitledPeople but I would love to share my story of 4 years of absolute hell (yes, this is permission to make a video of my story), and if anyone wants to read it there also, go ahead. I can guarantee there are a few details there that I forgot to include here, and vice versa. This is the story of a manipulative gaslighting ass (EX, currently 27 M) who saw a girl (me, currently 26) with stars in her eyes and saw an opportunity to crush them one by one. Maybe it can give someone else hope of escaping a bad situation. My story will be split into each year (each year starting with June 13 as that was our dating anniversary), and what happened when. I might not remember exact dates, as my divorce was finalized in 2017, but I will try my hardest to remember. Cast: Me, a hopeless romantic that has grown enough to recognize and not put up with BS...... and EX, the entitled ass whom this entire story is about (things I now recognize as RED FLAGS will be labeled), and others will be introduced when they come up.... TLDR: Gaslighting, narcissistic, manipulative EX preys on my naivete, and makes 4 years become 1950s subservient housewife slavery, forcing me into bedroom activities, and getting angry when I don't cater to every little thing that pops into his ego-inflated head Backstory: I have always lived with my parents. I have also always had a great relationship with them, and we were always close-knit. My siblings (21M, and 19F) never really had as close a relationship with our parents as I did. They always preferred to hang out with their friends rather than their family. I was always the "weirdo" in school and didn't really have friends because middle schoolers can be bitches. My parents had a one-in-a-million relationship, until my dad died this past April. It was pretty much a match made in heaven. They met in 1992 and just KNEW they would be married, and together forever. A week later they started dating. I came along in 1994, but due to some government mumbo-jumbo they couldn't get married or else they would lose their food stamps (they find a loophole a year later, and I pick their wedding date with chocolate pudding covered fingers). They had been married until my dad's death 25 years, and didn't argue EVER (amazing I know, I can hardly believe they were so lucky). I always hoped I would find a love like that. BEFORE DATING: We first met when I was a freshman (15) and he was a sophomore (16). We had gym class together, and would usually talk before the end-of-class bell with a mutual friend R who went to church with me (I no longer go to that church). He was gone a lot, but I didn't really know him back then, so I really didn't care whatsoever. YEAR 1: One day, about a month or so after I turned 19 (either late March or early April 2013), I was at Wal-Mart with my mom, my sister, and a female cousin (who was living with us at the time). We were looking at makeup, nail polish, hair products etc. At this Wal-Mart, the Beauty section was right next to the Pet section. I walked down to the pet section to look at the fish with my little sister, and a mutual friend J1 snuck up behind me and gave me a hug. I noticed EX was with him, along with J1's mom (who is literally batshit crazy), and someone else who I also went to school with, J2. We talked for a good half an hour before I had to find my mom, and they (J1, J2, EX) had to go. I thought nothing else of it. Another month or so later, I got a message on Facebook from EX's brother. He said that EX sent him a letter, and he wanted his brother to send it to me on Facebook. It was sweet, and he said he wanted us to start dating, and he would even ask my parents if he could. He did. In June, he showed up on my front porch (I would later learn that he had come to my house straight from jail, which sweet, simple, hopeless romantic me had no clue was a RED FLAG), I invited him in, and he asked my parents if he could have the honor of dating me. They said yes, and we were exclusive. He was very sweet at the beginning. Always buying me pop (soda, for all you non-Michiganders) and my favorite candy bars. Our first Halloween as a couple was spent with me sick on the couch, and him being allowed to spend the night to take care of me. Our first Christmas as a couple was spent with him in jail for unpaid fines (RED FLAG), and after he got out, we spent the entire next week together from the time I woke up, until I reluctantly crawled into bed. He would come over before I awoke, and he wouldn't leave until I was wrapped in my blanket and I could hear him telling my parents good-night. It was great. In May 2014. he had some problems with his grandma (she wasn't really his grandma. He was living at her house with his cousins (C, the "main" cousin, we add to the cast), and she was THEIR grandma, so EX just called her grandma), so my parents, EX and I had a discussion and my parents said he could move in. So, we move a spare bed into the basement (at this time the cousin we had living with us had moved out, and there were only 3 other people living with us), sharing with another couple (also cousins) living with us. So, after he moved in and being young and in love, we started THAT (this will come into play later). I soon found out that he had a "job" of sorts, helping his cousin's dad (CD) cutting down trees and splitting them for firewood (reliable side income for many in Michigan). Over the next 4 months, he would go to help them with firewood. Sometimes I went with him, just to get out of the house. YEAR 2 (starting 3 weeks or so after EX moved in): Within those 4 months mentioned in the previous "year", any time I went with him, CD would take his wife, C, and EX to "reward EX and C at the casino for hard work"....... And CD and wife would have me babysit their 4 brats while they were gone (putting it nicely, they were the definition of crotch goblins). So I didn't go much. One day in September we YEAH, and I went home the day after. He came home the day after I did. (NOTE: THIS IS WHERE THAT COMES INTO PLAY) About 3 weeks later, we went to his cousin's mom's (CM) place, because EX had agreed to help his cousin (C2, C's younger brother) clean his room. I was kind of chatting, small talk with CM. I had mentioned to her that we YEAH a few weeks ago. She asked me if I wanted to take a pregnancy test. I said "Sure, why not. Can't hurt. The worst is it could be negative" (ever since I was a little girl, I had always wanted to be a wife and mother). So I peed on it, and BIG REVEAL, IT'S POSITIVE! Very faint, but enough to tell it was there. I told EX because he was done helping C2, and he was just as happy as I was. But at the same time, he kept saying "Your dad's gonna kill me, isn't he?" So we went home. I pulled my parents out on the porch, and EX and I break the news "You're gonna be grandparents!" They were a little disappointed that we didn't wait until we were married (but they didn't either, so......). The next day I made an appointment to see my family doctor to confirm. He confirmed I was about 4 weeks along. He also said that since most of the OBs and midwives around that took medicaid did an ultrasound on the first visit, they would schedule my first visit about 7 or 8 weeks. I finally made an appointment for a midwife visit and starting WIC. I passed the next 3 weeks telling my friends and family. Everyone screamed with excitement, and offered congratulations. Finally my midwife appointment came! I excitedly relayed all the needed information, took in all the information she gave me, and then we headed down the hall to the ultrasound room. Imagine my surprise when I see on the screen TWINS!!!! EX was in the room with me first, and then I asked him to get my mom, but tell her it's a surprise. My mom came in the room and she was also very excited. But it was not all happy. Only one twin was alive. The other measured as though it had died within the previous few days. But still, I had a child inside me. I was growing a life. And I felt great. I had a relatively easy pregnancy. No morning sickness, no back pain, not really anything uncomfortable. But it was after my 2nd or 3rd midwife appointment that EX decided to go to CD's place more often (RED FLAG). His excuse was always "I don't want to stress you out" or "They need my help with XYZ". At the time I thought, ok, whatever. I guess he thinks it helps me. But no, I found out that every single time he went over there, they went to the casino, and he spent every last penny that he was "paid" for "helping" (RED FLAG). We finally ended up getting married a couple weeks after my 21st birthday (side note: I kept telling everybody "I can't drink, you do it for me!"). After we got married, I had a few labor scares. At the end of April, I had another labor scare (I was only at 34 weeks). Mom and EX took me to the hospital, and I was then sent to another hospital that had a NICU just in case my baby came early. EX got mad at ME for constantly having to drop everything and "take my ass to the hospital", and then said "I'm going to CD's house, I'm not talking to you, and when I get back this shit better be under control" (RED FLAG). Like, dude, I CANNOT CONTROL THIS!!!! Everything settled down, and at my next midwife appointment, they told me that I had mono, and that is what caused my labor scare. Little did I know that shortly after that I really would go into labor.... May: Labor started around 2AM. I woke EX, and he kept saying "Go back to bed". Uh, no, this is the real thing, no mistake this time. I wouldn't let it go, so we both got up. I was excited to finally meet my baby! We woke up his mom (EXM) (who had come for my baby shower 2 days prior, and we were letting her stay for 2 weeks). My dad was already awake, as he always had intuition about stuff like that. I remember when we walked out of our bedroom, my dad immediately said "You're in labor aren't you?" So I gave him a wide smile and a thumbs up. I called Maternity, to the midwife on call and explained what was going on. She said to come in, and that it sounded like it was go time. I told her that I would let my mom finish her shift at work, and we would be in shortly after. She said to call her before we leave, and she would let staff on the floor know that she would have a patient here in about 2 hours. After my mom pulled in the driveway, EX and I met her outside and I said "Don't bother turning the van off. It's time". From 2AM, 19 1/2 hours later my beautiful baby girl was born. My mom was the hero of the day, not EX. He went down to the main road every hour or so to smoke a cigarette. He slept through my worst pain because "he was tired" (no shit, you think I'm not????) (RED FLAG both). My mom was by my side the whole time. She held my hand through everything. Asshole EX couldn't be bothered with caring for his laboring wife..... Hell, my mom even cut my daughter's cord because "Damn that's gross!!!".... Through our next 48 hours (hospital policy), he was at the main road to smoke, or walking to Taco Bell more than he was in my room. It was like he didn't even care. When my mom came to pick all 3 of us up, she brought with her my grandma (my maternal grandmother), and EXM. Funny side note: while waiting for my release paperwork to be brought around, EXM told EX "I didn't know you could make something that cute" (XD). After I was released, EXM paid for all of us to get McDonalds. We got home and everyone was waiting to see my little princess (EX and I ACTUALLY AGREED that no one could post pictures, and that we wouldn't post pictures either, until after we returned home). My other grandma (paternal grandmother) and my aunt were helping my cousin (aunt's daughter, not the same cousin from the beginning of my story) (I also have stories about them, but they will be told some other time) at our house. My aunt and my cousin went to Wal-Mart the previous day to buy a bed (play yard/playpen with bassinet insert) for my baby, as my parents weren't able to buy it yet, so aunt and cousin basically saved them some money by buying my daughter's bed. Everyone oohed and aahed. We were happy. But after the excitement wore off a few days later and everyone went home, EX..... Well..... He was complaining about my siblings spending too much time on games, and tried using force to get them off the games (RED FLAG). A huge fight ensued after my sister basically called him a hypocrite (because in all honesty, he was being one. He was on his own games just as much, if not MORE than my siblings). Things got heated, he went to CD's house, and I went with him (though I now know I should have stayed home because the whole time we were at CD's house, he complained about the fight and tried to defend himself for being in the right.... No, no you were not EX) (RED FLAG). We stayed at CD's house and went back home the next day. Things were kind of tense at home. EX was gone a lot more than usual. After we took his mom back home, everything in our relationship took a turn for the worse. RED FLAGS everywhere. He would be gone all day with his friends, smoking weed and playing Magic the Gathering (a card game my family and I had long given up), or with C and CD. When he was with his friends, he would come home just shortly before or after sunrise. If I was awake he would badger me for YEAH. If I didn't relent, he would huff down to the basement to "relieve himself". That would also happen if I was asleep, or pretended to be. Many times he would fall asleep downstairs and I would have to wake him up to fix himself, to make sure my kid sister (or anyone else for that matter) didn't see him indecently. YEAR 3 (starts when my daughter is about 6 weeks old): RED FLAGS continuing from previous year: Whenever he was gone during the day, or staying with C and CD, he would demand I clean everything on an unwritten list, but who gives a damn if I have to take care of a newborn? I needed to clean first! Let her cry!!! I didn't clean what was on his damn list. I was taking care of my baby, doing my best to give her the best start in life. Oh, no, he didn't care. To him I was nothing more than a slave, put on this earth to cater to his every whim and satisfy his every need. "Take care of the baby on your own time! Worship the ground I walk on!"....... If I didn't have done what HE wanted done, he would yell, punch walls, pretty much everything short of shooting a gun (that if he did, he would be in violation of probation). He would always say "I'm going to CD's house. I don't know how long I'm staying there, but I'm turning my phone off. I'm not messaging you, I'm not calling you. I think I might have them take me to the courthouse so I can file for divorce!" See, every time His Majesty didn't get what he wanted, his number 1 tactic to "get me to change" was threaten divorce (this will be important later). This went on for quite a while. I was starting to realize I was happier when he was gone, but I thought it was because I didn't love him enough..... In mid to late December (maybe around the 20th?) we went to pick up EXM, so she wouldn't have to be alone for Christmas, and she would stay with us until after New Years. On the 23rd, EX got into a verbal fight with pretty much my entire family. With my parents over his constant use of the basement (which EX constantly called "his man cave"). With my uncle, B, over his poor treatment of me, EXM, and my daughter and how he's never home like a man should be. With my siblings, over what I can't remember now, but EVERYONE was pissed off at EX. So he did what he ALWAYS did, he called CD and begged to be picked up. EXM followed us into our bedroom so she could talk with EX. He turned to me (a few times while waiting for CD to get him) and said "Are you gonna be a good wife, and show them that you're on my side, and come with me?"...... No. No, I absolutely will not. We had plans for Christmas Eve, to visit family that we rarely got to see, and DAMMIT I AM NOT SHRUGGING OFF A VISIT WITH MY FAMILY SO YOU CAN THROW A PITY PARTY!!!!! So he left. We took EXM with us to visit my extended family, and everyone enjoyed themselves (I had a nice healthy cry of bottled up emotions over EX's outburst the previous day and him not being there with me). But I felt better afterward and joined my family once again. We all left in high spirits. EX came back early Christmas morning, and acted like everything was fine. It was not. He refused to apologize for anything. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The tension was there to stay. In a couple of months, for our anniversary, he went to CD's house again. This time it was only for a few hours. He came back with pop (soda), my favorite candy bar, and a small bouquet of flowers, trying to erase all his wrongdoings. It didn't work. Those "thoughtful" things were only a bandaid solution to the real problem... Things would only get worse. For the rest of this "year" he was gone more than he was home, "because he couldn't stand being married to a lazy useless wife who doesn't do her job right, or any job at all", but he asked for YEAH less, and for that I was happy. YEAR 4 (starts when my daughter is just over a year old) (Here comes the roller coaster, so buckle up for a long bumpy ride): He was gone 90% of the time. When he was home, he was starting fights with my family over stupid shit. He never apologized for anything. Hell, he STILL never apologizes for anything. But to be fair, I have him blocked on Facebook because of non-stop harassment..... Anyway, it was at this point I became almost apathetic in my marriage and relationship with him. I clung to my family and my daughter. They (and my dogs) were the only things that brought me joy. The final straw was Halloween (which we don't celebrate anymore, because reasons). Now, where I live, getting ready to trick or treat on Halloween is pretty much an all day thing. So I was getting my daughter and myself ready. EX headed toward the door and said "I want X Y and Z taken care of before I get back, or you can just take those damn costumes off right now." I didn't care, so I continued getting my daughter and I ready. He came back and said in a sickeningly sweet voice "You didn't get (tasks) done, but, because I love you sooooooooo much, you can still go. I'm probably gonna be at CD's before you get back, and I'll probably be gone for a couple days, because they need my help." So we went trick or treating. Then when we got back, I went to my bedroom to get my phone, as I had left it home to charge because I didn't have a vehicle charger. I went in my bedroom, and there, sitting on my charging phone, was his wedding ring. I was confused. I was hurt. I called EX, because I thought surely there must be some explanation. "Oh, yeah. It slipped off as I was putting on my jacket"..... Yeah, I called BULLSHIT!!!! That ring was so tight on his finger that it took some serious muscle to pull off. It COULD NOT just slip off. It was put there on purpose. I was stunned, and I ran to my parents for comfort. They dried my tears, and gave me courage. (Here is where the divorce threatening comes into play) They said "Well, if EX wants a divorce, give it to him. You know we're behind you and support you 100%." So I messaged him "I am done. I am leaving your things on the porch. You can get them and then leave." Within 20 minutes, he was in the driveway, trying to sweet talk his way back into my heart. My dad and uncle B were backing me up. I pushed EX away while handing him his things. EX got irate and started yelling, threatening to kick my dad's bad leg, accusing my parents of brainwashing me. No, EX. I haven't seen or thought more clearly in a long time. YOU have been brainwashing me..... The next weekday (I can't remember if it was Nov 1, or what date), I filed for divorce. Due to BS "squatter's rights" (because he lived at our house more than 6 months) my parents had to formally evict him. He had to be out within 30 days. Over the course of November, I spent most of the month at my paternal grandmother's, just down the road, because when I would stay at home, EX would wait until my dad and uncle were asleep, sneak into my bedroom, and sweet talk his way into YEAH. After he finished, he would go to his friend's house, and when my dad and uncle woke up again, they asked me what happened. We all agreed that shouldn't happen anymore. My dad told me that when EX was at home, milking that eviction notice for all it was worth, he would constantly play games on his phone. If he noticed anyone watching him, he would cry and mourn our marriage. Whenever EX left, my dad would call grandma's house and tell me it was safe to come back home. I would hand my daughter over to my mom, and get on the computer to check Facebook messages and whatnot. As soon as EX saw that I was available and online, he would rush back, and I would rush back to my grandma's. When there was about a week left before his final date, he walked down to my grandma's house. I answered the door, and EX was all smiles for my daughter. He was talking to her, but it was loud and directed at me "Daddy's got a lawyer, I'm getting a job soon, and my own apartment. Daddy's doing a good job to get you back!" I took my daughter back from him, and my grandma took her from me (note: fiery redhead with a temper to match) while she said to him "THE HELL YOU ARE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE ON MY DAMN PORCH?!?!".... and a loud argument ensued. My cousin (aunt's daughter) and her kids were also staying for a little while (her husband has a job that he's only home on the weekends). I brought all 3 kids inside, mine and her two, while grandma, cousin, and aunt were giving EX the ass-chewing of a lifetime. As he walked away down the road, grandma yelled after him "YOU STEP FOOT ON THIS PROPERTY AGAIN, I'M CALLING THE COPS ON YOUR SORRY ASS!". A few days later, he came back. This time it was night. Cousin's two kids were sleeping, my daughter was sleeping on my shoulder. I took my daughter inside when I saw him because I knew there would be yelling. There was. A lot. The cops were called, and they agreed to take him back to my parent's house because "with each party of a domestic dispute at different addresses, there's nothing we can do, except to return the wrong party to the rightful location" (fucking cops in my area, dumb as a box of rocks.....) So, EX finished out his notice, and had a memo notarized saying he would give up all rights to the house and property at (our address). For many nights in a row, I sat awake in terror, because I could smell weed outside my window. One night, he knocked on the window at 3AM begging me to let him in. It was because of that night, that my daughter (only about 19 months old at this point) began to suffer from night terrors. Sometimes, she still does to this day.... I woke my dad, the cops were called, and EX was caught a few houses down the street from matching boot prints. Every time I smelled weed outside my window, I woke my dad, and we called the cops. It took 3 times doing that before he went to jail. When he got out again, he didn't sneak around outside my window anymore. He just rode his bike by my house all the time, camped in our bushes out in the backyard (but we never actually caught him doing that, as he wasn't there at daybreak). When it was close to my birthday, EX decided that he was going to start his visitation AN OVERNIGHT THE DAY BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY......... I was devastated. It shattered my heart. I knew he only wanted to do that BECAUSE it was going to be my birthday... I cried, but I got my daughter ready that morning. She screamed bloody murder when he took her out the door with a smug look on his damn face. Throughout the day, he called the house to brag. Every one of my family members were in tears. Then, gloriously, EX called and asked if someone could pick them up. My heart was mended and a million times lighter! My mom, dad, uncle B, grandma, and me piled into the vehicle because I'M BRINGING MY BABY HOME DAMMIT!!!!!! We get to where he stayed that night, and my daughter was overjoyed to see me. He tried to be sneaky and kiss me, but I nipped that in the bud. On the way back home, he said "When we get back, she's sleeping in the living room with me. It's still my visit." When we got home he changed his tune "Ok, she can sleep in the bedroom"... I slept very well that night. Throughout the next 2 months, he would take his visits, but call me shortly after his time started or before his time ended giving me some excuse why he couldn't finish. One overnight visit, I seriously wish he would have called me, because he messed up her mental health.... The day after that overnight visit when he brought her home, he bragged that he got her to eat hamburger..... by shoving it down her throat (which she now has PTSD from, and is afraid to try new foods). And he bragged he got her to sleep by herself...... by shutting her in a dark, strange bedroom where she screamed from 8PM-2AM until she exhausted herself (which is why she now will not sleep without her TV, and is currently terrified of her bedroom at night because the cord to the VCR broke). The next day visit after that, he decided he would take at our house. Everything was going as well as could be expected. I left my phone on the table as I took my daughter to the bedroom to change her diaper. When I had finished, EX glared at me from across the room........ Then I noticed my phone in his hand. "Who the hell gave you the right to look through my damn phone?!?!?!" At this, he started screaming like a banshee "Our divorce is not fucking final. You are still my wife. I have every right to look through your phone, and you are talking to another guy?!?!?! WE'RE STILL MARRIED! THIS MEANS YOU'RE CHEATING ON ME!!!" At this, my dad woke up and bellowed in his deepest voice "YOU WILL NOT DISRESPECT MY DAUGHTER OR MY GRANDDAUGHTER IN MY HOUSE! YOU DO NOT LIVE HERE ANYMORE! YOU CAN GET YOUR SHIT AND LEAVE THIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!" I comforted my daughter because obviously a booming voice terrifies a child. He missed his next two visits. His visit after that, he asked me if I would stay with him and my daughter at his friend's house. I agree, if only to protect my daughter. That was a BAD mistake. We went over there, and EX sat my daughter in front of his friend's daughter's toys, and led me to the couch. He tried to cuddle with me, my resolve melted, and I let it happen, which I didn't want. When I finally left, he asked me if I could come for the next visit too. I did, to protect my daughter. One day in April, he sweet talked me into reconciliation. I really wish I hadn't, but I digress. It was a month and a half of staying overnight at EX's friend's house at least twice a week. I hated it. The only part I liked was when EX's friend put him in his place...... The very last time I visited with him, was May 27, 2017. My brother graduated high school. So did EX's friend's sister (S). EX showed up at the school gym. I thought he was being thoughtful when he held my daughter through the ceremony. But it was not thoughtful at all. Afterward, when everyone was trying to leave, he said to my daughter "Tell mommy bye and you'll see her in a few days!" OH HELL NO! I tried grabbing her out of his arms but he tightened his grip. "Uh, uh, uh, you can get her if you come to my friend's house for the night"..... So I did. S was sitting at his table drinking a beer in celebration. As I picked up my daughter I thought to myself "Young lady, you are not old enough to drink. I should call the cops right now. I mean they're just across the street". Things were going fine. I tried keeping to myself. After everyone that needed to left, and everyone else settled down to sleep, I laid quietly for a few hours. At around 6:30 or so in the morning, I got outerwear and shoes on myself and my daughter, and we snuck home. Thank God my dad was awake and unlocked the door for me. The two of us took a long nap, and I awoke to a message from EX "Hey, you need to apologize to S." "Why? What did I do?" "She and a couple other people heard you saying that she's way too young to be drinking" "But I didn't say it. I may have thought it, but I didn't SAY it." (Were they all mind-readers?!?!) "I don't care if you said it or not. Get your ass over here and apologize" (Why? You never apologized to my family for shit we all heard you say) "Fine, I'll be over in a bit" I left my daughter with my mom at home so that there wouldn't be any incentive for EX to entice me to stay. So I went back there, and apologize "Hey S, I'm sorry. I don't believe I said that, but you heard me, so I offer my apologies." And then I left to walk back home again. Through the next month, I pretty much gave myself house arrest. I didn't step foot outside my house, unless it was going to Wal-Mart. FINAL YEAR PORTION (June - October): When I finally decided to venture out into town, my mom, daughter, and I were going to meet up with her best friend, my auntie (Sh) her husband (T) and her 4 kids at a local park. Everything's going well, until speak of the devil, EX shows up. I handed my daughter over to my mom. EX tried to kiss me (in hindsight, I should have slapped him, and I would have had witnesses it was self defense), and he had a fit because "I didn't trust him with his own daughter" (damn right I don't!). He didn't leave, despite multiple warnings T would call the cops. EX didn't leave, so T made good on his threat and called the cops. Cop arrived, we all explained we were enjoying a cookout until EX started harassing us. Then EX stated outright "If I get my hands on (daughter), I'm gonna kidnap her". Cop told him to go to the court if he wanted his daughter so bad. He also told us that since we didn't rent the pavilion, EX had every right to be there, same as we did. So EX sat down with a smug look on his face, mentally gloating "I won, you can never get rid of me." I finally had enough, so I went to my mom's van under the guise of changing my daughter's diaper and her clothes, but really, to hide and hope EX would go away. T asked my mom to borrow her keys, went to the van, and said "Let's go for a ride". So we did. When we returned to the park, my dad and uncle B were there with mom and Sh. Dad asked about what happened, and when I got to the part about EX trying to kiss me, he said "Report his ass for sexual harassment". Dad helped me call the non emergency line of the sheriff's department. They sent out a police officer to mom, me, Sh, and T to give us statements to fill out, and told us to take them to the sheriff's department when we were done. On July 7, a police officer stopped by to let us know that because our 4 statements lined up with each other, that EX was arrested that morning. It was then that we all banded together, without threat of EX, to protect my daughter and I. Sh took us to the courthouse the next day, and I stopped the reconciliation. A few days later, my dad took me to the courthouse and I got a PPO (personal protection order) and he was not allowed within 100 feet of me or my daughter. He was arrested a few times for PPO violation. He sent me message after message on Facebook, and that was also PPO violation. When he was arrested for that, we had a hearing at the courthouse (for what exactly I can't remember), but as he was hauled up the stairs, he yelled to me "HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY BITCH" (yes, yes I am). The friend of the court (bitch on a power trip who thinks all moms are petty bitches) yelled at me about "the stunt I just pulled, having EX arrested while he was waiting for the hearing as I should have been"..... To be completely honest, in my mind I was throwing rose petals and making petal angels. It was sweet revenge after years of mental torture. We all celebrated that one. It was the last time I saw him (the last time my daughter saw him was the day at the park). After that, and serving his sentence, from what I heard, one of my relatives (don't know exactly which one as I have dozens in that area alone) scared the daylights out of EX by telling him "You leave OP and that baby alone, because you don't want to know what will happen". So EX has not tried to contact me whatsover, in any capacity, in over 3 years. No fake Facebook accounts, no asking friends to message me, nothing. I am happy to say that I am currently in a long distance relationship with a man who is the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of EX. Thanks for reading my story. I know it was long, but I feel better getting it off my chest to complete strangers on the internet :)
D100 floors for the magical tower that just appeared
It can be puzzles, combat, a rolplaying scene... But THEY NEED TO HAVE A CONDITION TO PASS TO THE NEXT FLOOR
It's a tavern perfectly seted up for some quick dates, in order to continue o the next floor the PCs need to find the love of their life.
It's just a trapdoor on the ceiling, but it's really far away from the floor, around 5 meters
It's a giant armadillo they need to defeat, but he refuses to fight and is made a ball so they can't attack him, they need to convince him into combat. If he surrenders it still counts as a victory.
A magic tic tac toe that makes Xs appear where it's touched and places Os where it needs in order to play with a perfect strategy, you can use the Google tic tac toe in impossible mode. In order to continue they need to win either by pressing two tiles at the same time (the board won't make his move until it's released) or by pressing a tile already occupied by an O
It's a TV quizz show called Know your monsters, the host is a humanoid bee and when asked any questions the correct answer will be B. Their opponents are a group of humanoid snakes that will always answer C (sssssssce) they only need to answer one question correctly to win since their oponents will always be wrong. You can ask random things from the monsters manual but preferably not statistics but colors of things or height, just to avoid meta.
Remember that game, "the floor is lava"? The floor is not lava -- the heat and toxic fumes would make the game impossible to play -- but a black pudding. There are several "islands" throughout the room -- a slowing dissolving wooden chest, a stone statue of a historic figure, a suit of pitted plate armor, the corpse inside sizzling and smoking -- at various distances that the players can jump to in order to reach the exit. (Or they can just boldly wade through, damage and corrosion be damned!) Each "island" poses its own challenges in terms of footing, length of time it can be stood on, how much weight it can support, and so on. Oh, and remember a black pudding can punch you with its pseudopod.
The BDP: You open the door to find a rather plain waiting area where various monsters and surprisingly enough adventurers are waiting in line. Out of the 12 teller windows only 3 are active at any given time and are manned by mindless zombies. On a successful dungeoneering check will gove the realization that the adventurers have entered the Bureau for Dungeon Placement. A sign in abyssal tells the adventurers what line they must enter and what forms they need to fill out but not in what order and may have to reenter the line upon failure to be in the right line with the right paperwork. A line takes 1d4 hours to get to the front. All monsters and npc adventurers start off with a hostile attitude towards the adventurers of they try to speed things up and cut to the front. Once everything has been properly filled/signed/stamped the adventurers are shown to the door that will lead them to the next floor.
A sphynx who wants the answer to a riddle, but can't remember the riddle. Asks the party for a good riddle to stump the next group of adventurers with and only let's them pass if they come up with a really good one. A few levels later, you encounter a troll who demands you answer his riddle. He's giddy about how hard the riddle is, and taunts you with the impossibility of it, and how you'll never ever get it right. He says if you get the riddle wrong, he gets to eat one of you, and demands you pick out the person that he gets to eat ahead of time. And then you pick out that person, and he says, no, not that one, I don't like the look of that one -- too fat/skinny/ugly/whatever, no, I want that one, and he picks out a different person, and haggles endlessly, until finally you reach a deal. And then at last he tells you the riddle, which is the riddle you told to the sphinx a few floors ago. Of course you know the answer. He flies into a rage and attacks you.
A movie theater with a really bad movie playing. The PCs have to make saving throws in order to resist the psychic damage of the most horrible plot the DM can come up with (think of things like Santa going to high school or Romeo and Juliet but it’s told by a ghetto version of Tybalt). When the room is searched there is no exit, but once the movie is finished the lights will come on and a very obvious exit will appear.
A waiting room filled with other adventurers on various different quests. There’s a ticker by the door with a double digit number on it and a small wheel of tickets with numbers on them. The players take a short rest before their numbers are shown and they can go through the door.
Several monsters or previous enemies just sitting at various tables playing different casino games. To get to the next floor each of the party members needs to win one game each. When they do they will be given a key shaped like a casino chip which they can use to open the door to the next floor. And remember, the baddies play for bets.
A library labyrinth. When the PCs enter they will see a very lost wizarding college student. They will ask the PCs to help them find a book that they think will help them get to the next floor. Upon finding the book it will act as a lever opening a secret passage. The student, however, will ignore the hidden door and rip the book off the shelf breaking something that a poor gnome worked very hard on. He will take the book with the wires still attached and head back into the Labyrinth thanking the party.
It's goats! The entire floor is a pastoral meadow full of goats. Why are there so many goats? You are unsure but they seem peaceful.
It's a giant talking head calling itself Olmec, it challenges you to run through a darkly lit five story maze to try to find an idol. Masked men will jump out and attack you as you search for the idol.
At the center of this room is an elegant fountain, an inscription on it claims that whoever bathes in the fountain will be as ageless and strong as a mountain. Any part of the body that actually touches the water will turn to stone. Warning: Drinking the water will kill you. The stairs are just behind it, its just to see if they are dumb enough to use the fountain.
It's a goblinoid street festival! Jolly goblin and bugbear merchants attempt to hawk all manner of strange festival foods! From honeyed mushrooms to fried rat skewers, horse jerky and moss based salads. Various events can occur, like: (1)a lost child that needs to find his mother, (2)a guard trying to stop some thieves from pickpocketing, (3)a store owner that needs a way to publicitate his shop, (4) a circus artists whose asisstant, a parrot that has been shapeshifted to a human, is missing and they need to find it by looking for someone that only repeats what they hear or acts socially awkward. The first can lead them to kenkus. If the group is splitted they can end up trying to publicitate enemisted shops, trying to help both the pickpocketers and the guard, helping both the mother and the kid... But you can come up with your own ideas for events and when you are done you can make them find a key or the door for the next floor to appear.
The Ball Pit - The Room is filled with colorful little hollow balls, each the size of softball. It is neck deep on a tall human (at least six feet deep). Somewhere in the pool of spheres is a trigger or switch that will lower a rope from the ceiling and the exit there. There is an antimagic field near the ceiling that cancels magical attempts to reach it, and the walls on all sides are slick as wet ice and impossible to climb. On the plus side, any fall drops you safely into the ball pit.
The shooting gallery from Zelda Ocarina of Time. Gotta play to win, gotta win to escape. (At least one player from the part must hit all the targets, DM sets a series of increasingly difficult attack rolls )
An awkward dinner party with the villain’s parents, who keep apologizing for what they’ve done. Players who can successfully change the subject of the conversation escape.
A huge room filled with desks, hundreds of people sitting nervously. Yes, it’s your calculus final, and none of you have studied. At least one player must pass a math quiz to escape .
David S. Pumpkins https://youtu.be/rS00xWnqwvI, when he finishes dancing and asks for questions he banishes, he will now appear every d4+1 floors, rolling again everytime he appears to make it unpredictable. You can be creative with the scenarios he appears in, like in a riddle in which one of the skeletons always lies and the other tells the truth and there are 2 doors, the one the skeletons act as if was the door with the stairway contains David S. Pumpkins or similar scenarios to surprise your players
Nothing but chickens. The whole floor is a well-appointed coop with straw on the floor (that magically refreshes twice a day), bins for water and food, lots of little hutches for roosting. Every day at noon, a swarm of insects materializes, and the chickens go apeshit hunting them down. In order to pass to the next level of the tower, the characters must find the golden egg that one of the chickens has laid. There is a cup to fit it in the very center of the floor, but no other indication of what to do. Any non-golden egg placed in the cup explodes and does 6d8 force damage to anyone within 20 feet (DC 15 DEX for half). This explosion leaves the chickens unharmed.
March in Minnesota - The air is crisp, clean, and heading to warmth. A near by window lets in light that is warm and inviting. On the far side of the room is a door out. It is roughly 300 feet across with a rough and uneven floor, but not s much as to make walking difficult. Maybe you will stub a toe, but that's the worst danger. As soon as the PCs take a single step in, snow plummets from the sky, burying everything in a depth of snow that varies per ten foot square from one inch to approximately three hundred inches (3d100 - 2). Situated near the door are exactly enough snow shovels for each party member. There is also a sign that states "All Walkways must be clear or fines levied." A diagram shows a wide (20 foot x 100 foot path) that stretches from one wall to the next path labelled Driveway and a smaller path stretching from door to door five feet wide and 300 feet long. Failure to try and open the door without clearing the snow form the pathways results in a arctic cold blast that deals cold damage to the entire party. Once the pathways are clear, the door unlocks. Room Notes: The Pathway is in a vague "T" shape, with the driveway path ending randomly in a snowbank that may or may not have been randomly plowed up by a jack ass snow plow man. Every Hour there is a 5% chance for more snow to fall. This snow will fall on each square, especially those recently shoveled. I would estimate that for a fit shoveler about 4–5 tons an hour is about right. For a non fit shoveler I would expect 2–3 tons per hour. 20x20x6 block of snow weighs roughly one ton.
A trophy room, filled with various awards, though your party gets nervous when they see their own names on empty plaques meant for mounting animal heads. DC 18 investigation check reveals a trap door lever- it’s an elk antler you have to turn just right.
the nicest bathroom anyone has ever seen, with the friendliest and most stylish bathroom attendant you’ve ever met. With a uniform that neatly pressed and a smile that warm and accommodating you almost can ignore the fact that it’s a fiend. The last toilet stall conceals an escape tunnel- players flush themselves like Harry Potter OR fight the fiend to escape.
A large cratered and barren field a few hundred feet across with a line of trenches on either side. The trenches stretch as far as the eye can see in either direction, and both are filled with strangely dressed soldiers speaking unfamiliar languages that are engaged in firing strange weapons at each other. The party emerges in one of the trenches, and peering over the top of their trench over at the other can plainly see the exit door standing behind the other trench.
A wall has Draconic text on it. Shouting loudly at them in draconic will cause them to glow, revealing the exit in the process. Disturbing the runes in any other way summons a dragon of appropriate level, which is fiercely aggressive towards the party regardless of normal alignment. Upon it's defeat, the exit it revealed.
The door to this floor simply leads to another door, and another, and another. An infinite demiplane of two-way hallways of doors stretches out from it. A third-person omniscient narrator comments on the party' s actions, occasionally dropping vague hints at the solution but primarily to make fun of the players. The solution is to keep more than 10 doors open; they close automatically, but can be propped open or broken. This many hallways revealed at once destabilizes the apparently low-level demiplane, causing the next opened door to lead to the next floor. The more doors that are open, the more odd and stilted the narrator sounds.
On this floor, mirrors make up the walls and ceiling. There is no visible exit door, apart from the one that was used to enter the room. Attempting to break a mirror fails, and causes psychic damage equal to the damage that the player would have dealt to the mirror. A successful DC15 perception check reveals that the mirrors are very slightly delayed from what they are reflecting, similar to a low-quality camera. The solution is to damage a party member without damaging the mirror; the mirror will be shattered, and the party member that was damaged will disappear from all mirrors in the room. After all the party members disappear from the mirrors, the mirror image of the door that was uses to enter the room becomes a door of it's own, which leads to the next floor.
A room where there is some texts on the wall in a language that none of the party understands. This room is protected by divination magic as if there is a 5th level counter spell which is displayed as a flash of blue light. this can be dispelled with a successful DC 19 dispel magic or a fifth level spell slot. There is also a table with 5 or so syringes on it. If one of the players is punctured by it by any means they must make a DC 25 con save or suffer the effects. Which are that you learn one language and are able to read, write and speak it but loses all other languages in the process. After 1 minute they will need to take another con save DC 15 if successful nothing happens and don’t need to roll anymore saves. If failed then their bones start to turn to liquid making it hard to perform gestures and you attack at disadvantage. After another minute they will need to perform another DC 14 con save if successful then nothing happens on a fail there legs start to turn into liquid your movement speed is halved and you have disadvantage on dex saves. Another minute goes by and another con save DC 14 if successful nothing happens if failed their entire body turns into goop giving them 10ft move speed and a 10ft climb speed they can fit though gaps 1 inch in size, they cannot use somatic components, and they are now classified as an ooze. This can be entirely cured by a greater restoration spell but will be put back one level by a lesser restoration spell. But if it is removed entirely the person forgets that language entirely and everything they have read with it. One of the syringes gives you the language you need and all they need to do is say the text on the wall which can be whatever you want. After someone says it all the effects from the syringes go away and a door opens letting you continue.
A room containing a deep blue slime, capable of communication (somehow), that demands that the PCs play a game of some kind before continuing. Cards, dice, or on the mysterious screen devices in the room - doesn't matter, they know them all. (the roll involved depends on the game and the playstyle - bluffing requires charisma, strategy games require wisdom, and so on.) If the PCs lose the game, the slime gets very smug about it and proclaims them to be brainless newbies. Mentioning the irony of it calling someone brainless will get him angry. If the PCs win the game, the slime gets very angry about it and proclaims them to be cheating scrubs and demands a rematch. The slime is very very easily provoked into arguing for hours about the best strategy for any game in particular (it calls it 'the meta') and takes them very, very seriously. If at any point the argument of the PCs becomes something along the lines of "It's just a game", regardless of the context, the slime metaphorically explodes in anger, and then shortly thereafter literally explodes with anger. This allows the PCs to continue. Alternatively, after a full 3 hours of arguing with the PCs about The Meta, (during which a lot of arguments will be repeats of previous ones, regardless of what the PCs say) the slime will proclaim the PCs to be so completely trash that they're not even worth talking to and playing with, and demanding that they leave. (not in those exact words, most likely!) This will also allow the PCs to leave. (Added side note: Any PC brave or foolish enough to taste test the blue slime - pre or post explosion - will find that it tastes oddly sweet, and makes the PC in question feel energized... at least for an hour, and then they feel just a bit sleepy for an hour afterwards. If it's tasted pre-explosion, the slime may be slightly perturbed, but will continue with the above actions regardless unless repeatedly ingested, at which point it will skip to demanding the players leave - after all, trying to eat someone up while they're arguing with you is just plain rude.)
A very large room that appears to be hosting a concert of a band of orcs (or suitable equivalent) playing extremely loud rock ballads, EDM music, and other such, regardless of the standard period music of the adventure. The difficulty isn't in finding the exit - it's plainly marked at the other side of the room - but in getting to it, pushing through a throng of drunk and rowdy concert goers while dealing with music so loud that you can feel it modifying your heartbeat through shear force. It's not deafening, though... more's the pity (?).
A room containing one incredibly sweet looking individual (your choice of race, gender and so on - pick whatever your table would find most cute.) at an artist's table, with a door to the next floor on the other side. The individual turns out to be an artist, and would love to show you one of their sketchbooks - you don't have to look through it at all, simply say you're busy and move on, but they'll be very disheartened if you don't. If the PCs do look through, they find that the art is very very well drawn - but also that subject matter both impressively eclectic, and incredibly, ah... 'candid', if you catch my meaning. (It's up to you to decide which meaning would be most appropriate to your table. tread cautiously, and keep it funny!) It's not as if the drawings will cause madness akin to Cthulhu or anything, thankfully, but likely they wouldn't expect these kind of drawings from someone this cute. A compliment of their art will make the individual very very happy, but again, isn't necessary to pass through.
A room covered in very obvious tile switches on the floor, with a sign reading "STEP TWO STEP TWO.", and faint dance music playing (in 2/4 time, importantly). The tiles are labeled with numbers 1 to 9, in a seemingly random order, though there is a path of 2s leading to the door. Stepping on the tiles at random leads to the tiles seemingly randomly flinging the PCs back to the entrance - it makes them hit the wall, but thankfully the wall is cushioned so as not to harm them. The trick is to step onto the tiles in time with the beat - the actual tiles stepped on doesn't matter, it's simply the timing. If the PCs decide to make their steps into funky dance moves, the room gives them a little extra bonus when they hit the exit door - namely, a well made outfit tailored just right for the PC in question, and perfectly appropriate for dancing in. (This outfit may end up modified slightly in style depending on the dance moves in particular used - in particular, performing an actual two step will garner a masterfully crafted outfit of appropriate style (What the appropriate style is depends, of course, on the kind of two step performed - there's more then one! Look it up!) that's suitable for enchantments.)
A room with a sign in the middle reading 'REST STOP', with a set of lovely cushioned seats (or just cushions, if you prefer), one for each party member, set around a table with some well made jam and bread, alongside a pot of tea - just enough for one cup per member. If they have any pets or animal-like followers, there's also some appropriate food and drink for them. If the party doesn't like tea, or jam and bread, replace it with something they'd prefer. The door to the next floor is available at any point in time - The room itself is perfectly safe to take a short rest in, although perhaps a bit too small for people to lie down and sleep in without having to lie on top of one another. There's nothing particularly special about the food and drink presented, but it is quite well made and is enough to satisfy whatever hunger might be present, if any.
An empty room with an ordinary locked door. The door can't be damaged and the lock can't be picked. The door is unlocked the second time an individual touches it.
The party enter into a room only lit by a singular spotlight on an empty space in the middle of the room (this might freak the party out on its own). Once the party moves further into the room (be it into the spotlight or not) more light will turn on, revealing 4-5 wealthy looking nobles, businessmen or merchants. In front of the prior lit area is now a pedestal with a item on top. One of the men will say something along the lines of "Well, well, well... What do you bring into.... The Lions Den! What spectacular item do you think is worthy of our investment?" It's like the program Shark Tank, the party has to convince one of the merchants/nobles to buy their product. The problem is the product is something entirely useless; a small block of wood, a wet cloth, a tin cup with lots of dents. The merchants might take everything very serious and with a stone expression, they might take it as an insult that the party tries to pitch this worthless junk to them. Once the party convinces anyone of the merchants to invest in their product, a door will open behind that person.
The party walk into a tavern. It's almost full, but there's a table or two with enough room for the party. In one end a stage is setup and what seems like a farmer is trying a few jokes - it's open mic night! The party, either all of them or just one person, needs to take to the stage and deliver a good joke. Be it a short one liner or a more elaborate story, they have to get a laugh out of the audience, which might prove a bit rough. Then a door will open at the other end of the room. If the party manages to get you, the DM, to actually laugh, award them with something - the patrons might toss a few gold coins, they might have a shop in town and offer the party a discount next time they stop by.
It's a quite large room, or a forest clearing, whatever you feel like. On one side of the room is a large pile of huge stones, weirdly rectangular, each stone being approximately 4m x 2,1m x 1m and weighing about 20 tonnes. On the other side is a smaller, but still human-height stone with some Sylvan inscriptions. If they don't know Sylvan, a successful investigation/intelligence roll will let them know it's a set of instructions. On the smaller stone is also a somewhat washed out 'picture' depicting the structure they need to build. Yep - it's the Stonehenge, and they need to build it The hard part should not be figuring this out, but actually moving these heavy rocks - unless they have a Bear Totem Goliath Barbarian with 24 STR or something, they can't really move the stones weighing 20 tonnes. Maybe the rogue got some rope and pullies, maybe they got a 10 foot pole to use as a leverage, maybe the mage got some useful spell - using fireball to explode the stones up (they are either hardy enough or indestructible), or of they have no idea, a set of good strength rolls should be enough. Once they've set it up, a druid will come and thank them for their service, and show them the way onwards.
The door to the room has "Little Shop of Horticulture" written on it. When the party walks inside they see a massive store with all kinds of plants. In the center of the room is a giant Venus flytrap that keeps repeating "FEED ME SEYMOUR" The shopkeeper is a dick and won't let them leave without buying one of the most expensive items in the store, but he also has a name tag that says Seymour. If he's feed to the fly trap the party can leave.
A goblin's birthday party. In the center of this room is a small crudely made birthday cake sitting atop it a table. 1d4+1 goblins surround it, one of which is wearing a poorly made construction paper party hat. Along one edge of the wall is a table containing gifts (things from the trinket list) from each goblin in the room. Across the room is a door to the next floor. The goblins will want the players to stay and celebrate with them and be sad if they leave.
The room is filled with 100 cats, and one of the cats is speaking common to the other cats, gossiping about the adventurers that have arrived on the floor, maybe insulting them a little. The common speaking cat mentions they know where the key to the door to the next floor is but would never tell a bunch of idiots like this group. Common speaking cat doesn't know they are speaking common, thinks they are speaking cat. It is difficult to tell which cat is speaking common since they all move their mouths the same way and are constantly moving. Cat's can be interrogated via speak with animals, to provide advice as to what the common speaking cat sounds like. Perhaps threatening to start killing cats to blackmail the common speaking cat could work as well. If group suggests starting to intimidate random cats, have them roll D100 and choose a random number, if that number happens to be rolled, then they grabbed the correct cat. Key is adhered to the common speaking cats furry belly and can be inserted into the door which has stairs leading to the floor above.
Likely to be one of the last times I ever see my father, and he has been nothing but drunk the entire time
I am 25 years old. My dad is anywhere between 57-60 years old. (I'm not sure.) I live in Florida. My dad lives in Pennsylvania. I haven't seen my father in about 2 and a half years. So I decided to buy a plane ticket and come up here, to Pennsylvania, and spend 4 days with him. When I got off the plane I was obviously excited to see him as he was excited to see me. We spent the day in Philadelphia doing all of the Philadelphia touristy crap that I had at this point never done in my life. We visited the liberty bell, independence hall, art museum, etc. My father was chain smoking cigarettes the entire time; he has been smoking since he was in 7th grade. But what's a little second hand smoke right? I was really enjoying my time with my dad! We arrived home that Wednesday evening. He threw together a dinner and we began to watch the Phillies take on the Red Sox on TV. I was so happy to be spending time with my dad, watching a game we both love dearly, baseball, like we have done together so many times in the past. As the night progressed however, my dad was changing. An entirely oblivious individual would think: "Weird it's almost like he's drunk". They would be right. He was plastered. This same oblivious individual would then think: "Well he can't be drunk, he hasn't had anything to drink." They would be wrong. I don't need to see it to know that he was likely taking swigs out of his bottle of whiskey every time he went out for a cigarette. As the night progressed his intoxication levels rose to the point where he couldn't walk. He was using the furniture and walls to keep his balance. "You alright dad?" "Yea I'm fine." We didn't talk about much that night because, well, he really wasn't in a state where he could partake in a meaningful conversation. None the less, the game was enjoyable and I still looked at this positives: "I am with my dad". That's all that matters. Day 1 of 4 complete. I woke up the next day to my dad in the kitchen cooking up an awesome breakfast! :-) My dad loves breakfast and always whips something together that's unique and hits the spot. We planned that we would go to the local casino so I could check out their poker room. So off we went. It was at this point on our way to the casino I began analyzing my dad in hissober state. "Gosh" I thought "he sure does shake a lot" (see alcoholic tremors) When my dad is sober he is flat, uninterested in conversations, and even in the presence of his one and only child seems unable to enjoy anything. He's just a wide-eyed zombie smoking his cigarettes to get through the day anxiously awaiting the next most socially appropriate moment for the presence of alcohol to be reintroduced into his bloodstream. 5pm rolls around and my father orders his first beer at a bar within the casino. He comes up with the great idea of checking out the local minor league baseball team for a 7 o'clock game. Perfect, I ordered the tickets on my phone right then and there. 1 beer later, tab payed, and we were off to the game. You would think that 2 beers in, my dad would "loosen up" and ultimately escape the sober state I described earlier. However as we drove to the baseball game the same eerie feeling of sober-disscontempt emanated from his body and permeated the car. We arrive at the game. My dad gets a beer. We sit down in our seats awaiting the game to begin. He quickly finishes his beer. "Hey bud, I'm going to grab a hotdog and a quick smoke I'll be right back" "Okay dad I'll be right here" He returns with another beer and a hotdog. 10 or so minutes later, the game begins. "I am at a baseball game with my dad, this is great!" I thought. Unfortunately, like much of what occurred during this visit with my dad, that euphoric feeling of things being normal faded quickly. It began pouring and reality set in: "This game isn't starting back up anytime soon". We stood around a bit longer, squished next to other fans all looking to stay dry. My dad ordered another beer, smoked another cigarette. "Let's gohome" I suggested, sensing my dad's patience running thin. Did I want to leave? I was indifferent. In a typical setting, sure I'd want to go home, but this was different. I was with my dad. I didn't care that it was raining. We could have stayed at the ball park for hours with all of the other families hoping that the rain passed. This wouldn't have bothered me. But I knew my dad did not feel the same. More enjoyable things exist in his mind: his bottle of whiskey; it'd be selfish of me to deprive him of such pleasures. So off we went. I drove home. Even after 5 beers my dad at this point was in his disscontempt-sober-state. When we arrived home. Nothing surprising here: as the front door of the house opened so did the bottle of whiskey. The night progressed. We watched Shark Tank and by the end of the night, he was plastered, again. As I write this now I realized I missed my opportunity that night. You see all I really wanted was to talk to my dad about life, memories, what the future holds, etc. In order to have these conversations he has to be in hissweetspot. What's the sweet spot you may ask? Well the sweet spot is where he isn't sloppy drunk yet however he's drunk enough to be open to having a real conversation. It's a very small window, one that I missed that night. Oh well. Day 2 of 4 complete. I woke up the next day to breakfast again. "Thanks dad". I went to Starbucks for a hour and a half as I was feening for some productivity and a space to clear my mind. My dad and I didn't have much planned this day, aside from meeting his ex girlfriend, whom was once a significant part of my life, for a late lunch. At lunch my dad went out for a smoke a couple of times. These provided opportunities for me and his ex girlfriend to discuss how he was doing. "How do you think your dad is doing?" "Not good. I don't know what to do. I'm just going to focus on making more money." Why is it I think money will solve this issue? Well, I can throw money at the problem. He'll eventually be unemployable. His current financial situation is not going to allow him to retire. If I make more money, I'll force him to come down to Florida and get sober. In a perfect world. Not a good solution I know, I'm working on that. During lunch my dad had a couple of beers. It was great seeing his ex-girlfriend. We left, said our goodbyes, and went home. I was tired so I took a hour nap. When I woke up my dad was drunk. It was only 5pm. I decided to walk to the store to get some fresh air, call some people, and buy a smoothie. An entire hour passes. I return home. The front door is locked. My dad locked me out and fell asleep. I pounded on the front door. He eventually opened and slurred: "wwheedre'dd yeww go bud?" "I was at the store. Sitting outside on the phone drinking my smoothie on the phone." "ohhh wwhell you shhhould have saiad someething befour ya left :-)" I did tell you dad. I let you know. You were just so f***ed up that you didn't hear me. Or maybe you forgot? Who knows. Oh you're going to bed? Oh okay that's fine no big deal it's just me, your son, in your presence for 1 more day. My dad went to bed extremely early because, well, he was obliterated and his body said "hey man I'm going to turn you off so you live!". I ended up staying up super late watching HBO. Day 3 of 4 complete. Which brings us to our final day. Today we woke up. Went to the golf driving range. Went through a bucket of balls. "Hey dad you want to get another bucket?" "Nahh" Again. He doesn't want to do shit when he's sober. He's just going through the motions. We went to a bar to play some pool which is another activity that we have bonded over in the past. We play a total of 3 games. He has a total of 2 beers. We leave. Go to another bar, I order some wings, he orders a beer. We leave. Go home. He cracks open the whiskey. Gets obliterated. Now he's asleep. I have a flight tomorrow morning at 8AM. He barely said goodnight. I'm afraid that my last memories of my father will be of him being piss drunk complaining about how he has to wake up early to drop me off at the airport. It was great seeing you dad. I'm sad that we didn't get to talk, about, anything of substance because when we were together you were either a.) going through severe withdrawals or b.) completely hammered. I no longer drink for a multitude of reasons. As you guys can see I am approaching my year mark. I wrote this because I just had to get it off of my chest and I didn't know where else to put it. I hope it serves as an example for those on here who have children and are looking to quit. Know that you will be providing so much more value to your family through soberness and that your choices affect everyone around you. I know some will offer advice in this thread. I do appreciate it. Just be aware of the fact that I do know that I need to help him and that I am coming up with a plan. Unfortunately it'll be hard to implement as the distance between us is so vast. The reality is that alcohol kills and will likely end my father's life soon. This post is a way of expressing my feelings in light of this harsh reality.
Assorted thoughts after reaching lv 27 in first playthrough
Just hit halfway mark to lv 28 on my first game, as a shield and longsword focused warrior on normal, on android. Very impressed with the game, especially for the low low price of only sixteen quarters. i have a few complaints but they're extremely minor. General Kudos:
levelling is paced really well. Doesn't feel too burdensome or boring to grind, even at a million exp. Steady progress contrasted with spikes in challenge is the dopamine drip that pulls you into rpgs. This is also great for a mobile platform.
good variety in weapons, thematically. Good progression in weapon strength and variable utility, it's not as though there is always a clear winner that invalidates all others.
story and worldbuilding above average if not quite excellent. Definitely would be a good D&D campaign. Named quests advance overall narrative well, few feel disconnected from the story. Town Hall quests do, but I accept those as optional filler.
dialogue well written, conversations generally compelling, few typos.
companion AI good. This could have turned the game into a misery if bungled. Very rarely do they do something that's frustrating, although it does happen - locked aggro to a mob you're fleeing, or standing in a hazard soaking up damage. The order options you can give are useful.
balance between sandbox freedom and difficulty curve was excellent. Always possible to back down from a rough spot and find somewhere to make progress more safely. The hook factor was strong as far as "hmm I'll go rearrange my geaboost that resistance/gain that new skill" and try this tough area again" goes, kept your interest.
multiple alternate trade "currencies" was neat, giving you a reason to hold on to certain item types. Could've been expanded, for example, if the snake fangs were the main or most useful currency for whole seventh house, not just the narco dealer and she offered exclusive items, or bishop bayta did the same with diamonds.
Gripes/room for improvement:
when leaving an area, it's too easy to accidentally re-enter it immediately, causing two additional loading times.
basic skills are of limited use and not fun. Class and advanced skills were good and generally balanced well against point cost.
storage is limited and clunky. Being unable to drop items directly from the bag of holding, or directly swap two without making a space to transfer one to first, is frustrating.
2h weapons and great mauls and their attack animations were visually underwhelming on the Sprite.
Between bonuses to damage types and named weapon traits, it is sometimes difficult to tell which weapons are most effective against an enemy type. For example, does beast slayer 2 outweigh a +3 to a damage type that beast is vulnerable to?
world is big enough, especially for the price of the game, but settlements feel a bit small and sparse. Something like a gambling casino, variety between taverns, or some buildings with other purposes would have gone a long way.
may be a personal thing but I HATE pop culture/earth human references in an otherwise serious rpg. "Buy a couk" or even just names from Shakespeare. That Doesn't mean humor is off the table. For example it's funny that a wizard is convinced a pig is his wife, and it's in tone with the world.
i also hate the "surprise turns out this is sci-fi not fantasy" twist trope, in general, although this implementation is far from the worst example of how to do that.
wayyyy too many spike traps. Stretched suspension of disbelief, as well as increased annoyance without really presenting additional challenge. I wouldn't mind if they did more damage, as long as they were reduced by 2/3rds or so, and arranged more thoughtfully. Like maybe certain Dungeons are littered with them but most have none or only a few strategically placed. Another trap type might have helped also.
Random thoughts:
the dash skill was cooler than I thought, since it has utility just in speeding up overland travel, escape, approaching enemies before they notice, skidding over traps, and moving enemies. Just being able to outrun an enemy with comparable basic speed is nice.
whirlwind was less interesting late game, since pushing away healers/ranged enemies wasn't desirable and cleave or flurry handled crowds just as well. The defensive bubble skill (name?) Took too long to recharge.
skill points don't come easy but upgrading skills is a compelling reason to level. There are only two ways left for me tho, to get the 250,000 Vision, and to keep levelling. I got all the skill tomes in SoH. I wish that skill and trait tomes were more available as drop loot, even if only in some really difficult late-late-game dungeon. I DID get a tolassian tome to drop from one of the SoH demiliches once.
favorite places to grind: maze of lamth, sunken citadel, hill giants near sanctuary, icemist underlevels (convenient save/sleep point) and bloodpaw/heart of khorne (for gold, since valuable items like chest plate, leggings and ursan charms drop often, bear hide stacks, and the basic maul at 175 is of decent value.
least favorite enemies: werewolf/troll (carrying a special weapon around for one single enemy is irritating, although at least Justice covered multiple types)
i never figured out the sunken citadel puzzle. I just looked up the solution. I found all the roman numerals but wasn't able to discern an order or patten. The rune translation puzzle in wyverntail complex was good, and identifying which color coded card was which was also. Small quality of life details like "once you complete this puzzle, the cards disappear and the door remains open" are nice, often games force you to carry items and go through sequences again. I could have stood more puzzles of this quality.
looking for red keys to the crypt was exciting, knowing there was more loot gated away.
Read Chapter 23 - Messages From the Ethers - Dancing Beyond Cancer
Dancing Beyond Cancer - Messages From the Ethers Chapter 23 -------- Messages from the Ethers The first month after Danielle’s passing was a time that I filled with many distractions. I started to binge-watch everything that I had missed on Netflix over the past year. I even reactivated my Amazon Prime and Audible audiobook memberships. I then spent hours playing video games while listening to interesting audiobooks. I wasn’t ready to face everything all at once, and I needed to take breaks from my thoughts. I used electronic media as a means to cope. My favorite was mixing video games with audiobooks. It made me feel like I was accomplishing more than just sitting around. Since I only listen to Non-Fiction, it helped me expand my mind into topics that were interesting to me. The combination was perfect at preventing me from thinking about anything else. I wasn’t ready to think about anything else yet. No one could help me because I had to wait until I was ready. For the time being, I was adjusting to an entirely new life. Thankfully I wasn’t alone in this new life. Danielle’s “baby” Andora Wells Luxemburg St. Clair Strabala joined the adventure. She was a blessing in more ways than one. First, she kept me motivated after losing Danielle. She became my daily inspiration because she wouldn’t let me sit around all day. Andora forced me to go on adventures with her. My first purchase for her was a chest harness that would allow me to strap her to my chest. I was hoping that I would be able to take Andora on my pedal street bike. Surprisingly, her front paws fit perfectly on the handlebars while she could balance her hind feet on the frame. I quickly built a front footpad and padded the frame so she would be comfortable during a ride. It was so successful that Andora stopped wanting to go on walks instead she would sit by my bike. She would look at me saying, “I’ll wait for you to put your harness on.” I discovered quickly that she enjoyed going everywhere with me. I was relieved to have a little ball of love that wanted to do everything with me. I couldn’t have asked for a better companion to help my depression. The support I received was invaluable, which is why I had to make it official. I had to get Andora her emotional support dog card. Thankfully I knew all the doctors in town, so I made an appointment to get a prescription. I found it nearly impossible to be depressed while Andora was around. Everyone would stop to smile or laugh while she was strapped to my chest. The bike rides always produced hilarious reactions from motorists. The joy that she would bring people was contagious. We would often ride out to a trailhead and then hike up a mountain where she would run around for twenty to thirty minutes. It was highly therapeutic for me to get out into nature with Andora. I don’t know what I would have done without Andora’s constant companionship. She could cheer me up, no matter how sad or depressed I would become. The love we shared was the one thing that kept me from slipping into any prolonged state of depression. Danielle was also going to be helping me through the grieving process more that I could imagine. My openness to contacting those that have passed was something that I expected to start right away. It didn’t happen quite as I was anticipating. It would be sometime before I started to center myself. This centering would make me more capable of contacting her in the afterlife. It didn’t stop her from sending me messages, and some of the messages were so incredible that I now know death is not the end. I continued to suppress many emotions after Danielle’s passing. I was still using tobacco and medical marijuana to prevent dealing with my anxiety. I hadn’t recognized it yet, but my PTSD was still very present. It was far too exhausting to try and process so many unresolved emotions. It was a daily practice to work on my emotions so I could open up to those emotions again. I now realized time was the only solution, and Danielle had thankfully given me that. Danielle had requested that I be allowed to live in the house for six months. Rose’s parents never once made that an issue, because they were amazing. I also had just enough money left over after paying for the cremation expenses, to survive for at least three to four months. I wasn’t ready to work the first few months after Danielle’s passing. It was important to me that I start to connect with my wife. I didn’t want more distractions or stress to be in my life. I needed peace with no worries. After about a month of avoiding my spiritual self, I started to meditate again. It wasn’t easy for me, considering I still had so many unresolved questions. The thoughts that would arise would often trigger anger or regret. As I addressed these emotions, I began to operate with more clarity. It was right away that I started noticing strange synchronicities. The experiences were extremely far out with a basis in science fiction versus science fact. I started having bizarre coincidences involving time travel, reincarnation, and past lives. Each time something would expose itself as a possibility, it would provide additional coincidences to support each topic. The time travel was still one of the more interesting messages from Danielle. All of a sudden, there was a multitude of sources that I was following from the Gaia TV network, in addition to some audiobooks. The books and documentaries were describing ideas I had observed in fictional movies. However, the new information had facts to support the theories. I discovered that remote viewers claim to be able to visit the past and have shown surprising accuracy. Then we get into secret space programs and wormholes, and it becomes a real possibility. It opened a new realm of possibilities for me. It was a plethora of Time Travel, and for several weeks I couldn’t escape it. I started to believe that maybe something would happen that would cause me to go back in time. The possibility of seeing her again was all I could consider. I found many stories about random portals appearing that cause people to stop or travel in time. Stories of fairy rings go back centuries. I started to prepare my backpack for any situation that could send me into the past. One of the biggest synchronicities came on a trip to Vegas with some friends. It was the first time I had left Sedona since Danielle passed. Several of us had rented a room for the weekend. There was a dance festival that they invited me to, which seemed appealing. I wasn’t expecting Danielle to send her first message five minutes after we arrived at the hotel. I had recently found a theme song from a movie about time travel. The movie had been out for years, and I never once had heard the song from the end of the movie. The song was about going back in time to be with someone they love. It was crazy synchronistic to hear the song played over the speakers at the Casino we were staying. Danielle would often play songs to send messages to me, and this one of the most significant. Even though I never traveled in time to see Danielle, I felt everything happened for a reason. The hope I gained while thinking I could see my wife again was priceless. That hope might have been the only thing preventing me from spiraling into a deep depression. I started to see more and more the influence Danielle was having in my life. She always seemed to have my back. Danielle delivered messages in many ways. A personal favorite was little messages she would send as I cleaned up the house. One day I found a card that said, “nothing is more the child of art than a garden.” -Sir Walter Scott. That day I had started work on cleaning the backyard to plant a beautiful heart garden. The added inspiration that just fell into my lap gave me a message that she was with me. Danielle knew how to send me messages, and the more I paid attention, the more profound the messages would be. I didn’t talk or communicate with many people over the first six months after Danielle’s passing. The daily trips to the water store or grocery store were all the socializing that I needed. Andora would usually attract attention, forcing me to interact with people. If someone recognized us, I would usually reaffirm that Danielle is still very much with us. Many of these interactions would tell me about their own personal messages that Danielle sent. Many people who knew Danielle had received messages in their dreams. Some were quite interesting personal messages that she delivered. It was always great to know that I wasn’t the only one having crazy experiences. Since most of my paranormal experiences happened while I was completely alone, it was exciting to know I was not completely crazy. The signs I witnessed defied any scientific explanation. Every time I was looking for a confirmation, I would have a butterfly or hummingbird appear. I had this occur more times than I can count. A more memorable experience happened as I was sending my friend a message about the butterfly synchronicities. Just as I was typing that statement on my phone, a butterfly flew in front of my face. The butterfly flew directly in between my phone and my face, which has never happened to me in my life. It all seemed crazy, but it seemed crazier to deny what I was experiencing. I found peace sitting outside finding unique experiences with wildlife. Never before had I noticed all sorts of birds and butterfly’s doing things that just brought a smile to my face. It’s like they knew exactly how to cheer me up. I’ve even heard of many other people having similar experiences, not even associated with Danielle. These experiences were the most beneficial to my grieving process. There were several people in town that I had developed casual relationships with for conversation. These people helped discuss some of the more metaphysical topics that many people find bizarre. As much as I don’t mind sharing those stories, I also understand that many of them can be a bit farfetched, especially when approached from a traditional world view. Some wouldn’t see the coincidences the same way that I do, and therefore wouldn’t get the same messages that I receive. When I finally had someone appear in my life that I could talk about anything with I was super excited. It was funny because this person was one of the first people I worked with when I started back working part-time after three months. I didn’t get to know her at that time, and because of my orgonite business, I didn’t have to stay working at the restaurant. It had been several months since I had seen her. She was now living two houses up with a group of people. The house always had people rotating in and out, so it wasn’t unusual to see a new face. I was often outside greeting anyone who walked up or down the street. I had met or introduced myself to most of the people who lived on the street because of Andora. Since I spent a few hours a day gardening, it wasn’t unusual to see several people a day making trips up and down the street. I eventually got to know the new roommate, and we connected immediately on a spiritual level. I found her fascinating because she had worked as a spiritual guide for several years. She did things like tarot readings but also did deep spiritual work for her friends and family. Due to our connection on spiritual topics, I opened up to her about everything that had happened with my wife. There wasn’t a single experience that she found bizarre or untrue. She showed honest support by sharing similar experiences from her life. This also let her open up about some of her past trauma’s, one of the most recent being the loss of her brother. I felt super comfortable around her because of this issue. She had told me how upset it made her that her brother’s fiancé moved on to be with someone else after a couple of weeks. From I Love you with one person to I love you with another person in under a month. I couldn’t believe it. I told her that I find it disrespectful not to show a time of morning for a significant other. In my opinion, I felt that waiting a year to move on from a spouse is probably very healthy. It is unlikely that someone who loses the love of their life would be in a place to move on in any less time. People need time to readjust to their lives. Rediscover themselves and move on properly. I also felt I still had stuff to deal with, regarding losing my wife. I know it wouldn’t be fair for me to be in another relationship yet. I really felt like that conversation with my new friend created a safe space for me to mourn my wife. The year was an easy commitment to keep. I had promised my wife a year of mourning, which I intended to keep with all my heart. It was shortly after we started to hang out that I had an experience with Danielle. It was a rather unusual dream and, in that dream, she gave me something. At the time it really didn’t make sense, because she gave me some blue spiritual armor. I didn’t think much about it other than I really enjoyed feeling my wife’s presence in that moment. The armor didn’t mean anything significant nor did it lead to any other experiences over the following weeks. I just wrote it off and never considered it again. It felt like I had truly developed a strong friendship which was all I expected out of the relationship. I didn’t feel that even though I was hanging out with a girl that it would be construed as anything other than friends. I wasn’t attracted to the person, and she was not my type. When compared with my wife there wasn’t any comparison, and I say that because Danielle was that incredible. Our sharing was really helping to come to terms with some of the pain that the past several years had caused both of us. Loss, struggles, and pain were similar experiences we shared. I even decided that since in another month or two I might be needing to find a roommate; I made the offer. It was about this time that she started bringing some of the drama from her house down to my house. It was mostly just her venting about the behavior that some of the roommates had such as dirty comments or inappropriate behavior. I knew a couple of the guys, so it didn’t surprise me. This kind of fed my anger towards the behavior that men show towards women. It is the lack of respect that bothers me, if all parties are fine with crude behavior then I am fine with it. The problem is that many people force that behavior on people who don’t approve. This was the start of her pushing my buttons to distance myself from that house. It took about a week, but she convinced me that she had to get out of there and created a situation that really seemed plausible. After only a week of her living at the house I started to notice that something was up. There were little things that I noticed but didn’t put together. First off, she was making a lot of promises and not fulfilling any of them. I figured I would be patient and just see what happened, no need to worry. Until she said something bizarre and completely out of the blue about our friendship being just friends. It was odd that she made that statement. As strange as the statement was, I still didn’t worry one bit. It was then that she came home one night and told me that my friend from two houses up was spreading rumors that we were dating. I almost lost it right there, not only did he know my wife, but after our trip to Vegas, I thought he knew that I was truly waiting a year. Not to mention that I thought he knew me better than dating someone like the person I was now roommates. I assumed he knew it would never be anything other than that. I had to wait almost three hours for my friend to get home. By the time my friend arrived home, my new roommate had already gone to sleep several hours before her typical bedtime. I could tell she was a bit frightened by my anger, and I figured she was trying to give me my space. It was a quick trip up to their house as I stormed through the gate and immediately started accosting my friend in front of five other roommates. Almost twenty seconds into my rant, the entire group had to stop me. All four people almost in unison told me that my new roommate was the one telling everyone in the house those things. I immediately stopped my rant and asked for them to continue immediately. I was completely shocked at what was occurring as everyone told me the numerous things that this girl had told them. On top of that, I also found out that the spiritual reading that she did in private to connect with my wife was now public knowledge. Every single person in the house knew about her doing the reading, and even more appalling was that she even shared the details. For a spiritual worker, this was such a violation of trust that I couldn’t believe that I had even allowed such a dark person into my space. It also made me realize that all the signs I was getting about dark magik weren’t about the other people in Sedona but was about her. During the time she appeared, my life was littered with signs about magik or dark spiritual practices. It was much like the signs about time travel. This time it involved someone that had manifested into my life. I discovered that she had been practicing dark rituals that were meant to win me over. I knew that despite my normal intuitions that I was drawn to her in weird ways. Since I have great self-control, I always discontinued the thoughts the moment I recognized them. Either way, I had no intention of acting on these strange feelings. The promise to Danielle meant more to me than any temporary moment of gratification. It wasn’t until after this group disclosure that I started to see the whole picture. I began to see the elaborate lies that had been used to deceive me. I was pissed, I was angry, and I was ready to kick this person out of my wife’s house. Everyone was sympathetic to my situation and were equally appalled. I thanked them for letting me know the truth. However, I would have to wait until the next morning to speak with her. She asked me almost immediately if I had talked with the neighbor. I told her that I did and that it didn’t go well. I then stated, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I recommend that you don’t answer that question right away, and you think about it.” She acknowledged this statement, and I proceeded to ask, “What is going on here? and I need you to tell the whole truth, and I mean all of it.” She looked at me like she didn’t know what I was talking about. I was honestly surprised after six people filled me in on the other side of the story. They had nothing to gain by lying to me and even told the same stories. She was fighting an uphill battle to convince me she was not a liar. I could tell she was lying again by playing dumb to what had happened. I could finally see through her crap. I told her that it wasn’t best if we talk about it right away, so I asked again, “Are you sure that you want to talk about this?” She nodded affirmatively. I then lost it on her, full well knowing that I allowed her to let me cool down, or for her to come clean. Either of which needed to happen for me to communicate productively. I didn’t want to communicate with her productively, and I was happy to end the friendship. I had to call her out first on all her lies, on the fact that she shared private information with people I didn’t approve. She betrayed my trust and on top of that hadn’t done one thing at the house that she promised she was going to do since she moved in. It was embarrassing that never once fessed up to one of her lies, continuing to pile more lies on top of it. The conversation ended with me recommending that if what everyone at the other house said was lies that she should confront them and get them to tell me the truth. It seemed the most logical solution because if there was simply a misunderstanding than she could remedy the situation. I didn’t see her for the next five hours. At which point she returned to tell me that she spoke to the neighbor. Explaining he was unable to communicate, and I later found out that the only interaction they had that day was her flipping him off when he drove past the house. Considering the only answer she had for me was a garbage answer, and even worse a complete lie, I lost it one last time. This time I didn’t hold anything back, I told her, “Get the Fuck out of my wife’s house.” After all the disrespect that she showed my late wife in her house, I wouldn’t tolerate her for another minute. It was unforgivable, it was disgusting, and I wasn’t going to stand for it. I exploded into a fit of rage that had her unable to speak or get a word out, and I told her to take everything she owned and leave. She told me her ride was on the way. I told her, “That’s great, then take all your stuff to the street. I don’t want you inside Danielle’s house one minute longer.” I proceeded to tell her that it was best that we do not speak, ever again. It may take weeks or months before I will be able to talk to her without becoming extremely upset. The damage that she did with her choices were something that I couldn’t believe even happened to me. To have someone come into my space and disrespect me in such a way was hard to believe. Now I was also faced with the regret of not controlling my anger. I did initially feel bad about how much I had yelled at this person. Despite being rightfully upset, it didn’t mean that I had the right to assault this person verbally. I felt that I had restrained myself just before it became outright abuse. Once I said the things I needed to say, I was done. There was no need to keep rubbing it in, because I was ruthless. However, considering the crime, I still felt like she deserved worse. It was not my decision what her punishment would be. I would leave that up to the universe. Sitting on the porch pondering about if I became too angry, I had a hummingbird fly a few feet in front of my face. It did nothing but take my mind off of what I was thinking. A few hours later, I was sitting in the same spot still having the same regret. Just like before a hummingbird flew directly in front of my face, this repeated sign of reassurance gave me some peace that maybe I did do the right thing. The second confirmation from the hummingbird helped me realize Danielle was sending me a message. It wouldn’t be till a couple of days later that it would start making sense to me. It all started with my recalling the experience with the blue armor. Danielle had given me the blue armor just before I met my former potential roommate. I didn’t notice it until I looked back on our friendship and saw that I never wanted to touch her. I had a strange subconscious aversion to touching her. When we would share deeply emotional experiences, I did not want to hug her like I would with most people. I would hug any of my friends if they were feeling down, but I didn’t want to hug her. It happened on a completely subconscious level. I had zero awareness that I was behaving that way until hindsight. Now finding out that she was using dark magik while lying and manipulating me it all came together. Danielle somehow knew I was in a bad situation. She gave me something that would protect me during this period of growth. The blue armor must have been a gift she gave me to repel the energy used against me. There was no other explanation for my aversion to this person. I have never knowingly avoided anyone in that way before. On top of that, because of the hummingbird, I realized that the explosion of anger wasn’t just my anger but also Danielle’s. She was expressing her anger through me, and this person needed to understand how she upset Danielle. That understanding helped me feel a little less responsible for the actions that I had done. I knew I was sensitive, but I didn’t think that I was that in tune with Danielle. The rage I felt was on a whole different level. Even in my worst emotional breakdown, I had never gotten that angry in my entire life. However, I remembered that Danielle told me how she used to blow up on people who were being stupid or dangerous. Her students and friends confirmed these stories. I had done the same thing she did in many other instances. I had to accept the experience for what it was, much of the guilt melted away. I found out shortly after this that I was not going to be needing a roommate. The family had finally closed on the transfer of ownership and was preparing to remodel the house. It had a lot of issues that needed to be addressed before they wanted their daughter living there. The house inspections turned up more problems than we had initially anticipated. The walls in several rooms had black mold, and the wiring throughout the entire house needed to be replaced. The work required that the whole house be emptied. After finding out that I was going to have to move out of the house, I decided to create a yard sale. I will admit that it felt weird going through my wife’s stuff. She was a bit of a packrat, so her house was full of all kinds of interesting things. She never bought new things and was a huge thrift store shopper, which was what most of her house contained. There wasn’t much that I found I wanted to keep. I also asked Rose if there was anything she wanted to keep, and there weren’t many things she wanted either. I mostly kept some of her art, including a headless Buddha. My favorite was a classic piece of history containing all the original newspaper articles from the JFK assignation. Danielle also left me one of her stained-glass windows, which was the only thing that she said was worth any value. I will cherish the piece of art for the rest of my life. Out of a full household of stuff, there was only a small handful of things that I wanted to keep. It still felt strange selling her stuff, so I decided to donate her personal items to the local women’s shelter thrift store. No space for storage was unused and there was so much to sift through. It was a monumental task. I didn’t ask for help because it was a task that I felt obligated to perform. I made sure that I kept most of her writings and photos because I felt those memories should be preserved. On top of that, I really found the whole experience therapeutic. However, I still had a lingering doubt about if I was doing the right thing. It was the first day of the yard sale that I met a woman with whom I shared a piece of orgonite. We ended up discussing the topic of medication sensitivities and I told her that Orgonite was helpful against EMF sensitivities. Other than mentioning Danielle’s passing and her experience with medication sensitives, we didn’t talk about Danielle any further. The woman was sad to hear, but I think I brought her more comfort to confirm the reality of those sensitivities. That night the woman went home and had an experience that she had to share with me. The following day she returned to tell me all about her experience. However, I wasn’t working the yard sale due to friends that were visiting for the day. My friend and neighbor from two houses up were watching my sale for me when she arrived. She told him that she was there to tell me about her experience. She explained that a woman had appeared to her and started dancing while she was holding my orgonite. After sharing it with him, he mentioned that my wife was a Dance teacher and pointed to the dance studio. The little old woman lost it right there. My friend told me that she freaked out for a good ten minutes before finally settling down. She, in all the years living in Sedona, never had a Sedona experience. This was her first metaphysical Sedona experience, and one of the most powerful messages I would receive from my wife. It just so happened that when the woman went home that night, my wife decided to pass on further messages to her. She was told to come back to the yard sale and pass those messages to me. When she showed up Sunday, I was shutting down the yard sale for the weekend. I wasn’t anticipating any more people showing up, but she showed up at the perfect moment, and we took a seat. I could tell that she was a bit overwhelmed by the situation that had happened. I was informed about what had happened the previous day and let her know. She explained to me that there, even more, that happened, but she didn’t want to, “Freak me out.” Her apprehension was cute, and after explaining some of the crazy experiences that Danielle and I experienced, she relaxed a lot. She proceeded to tell me that my wife had appeared to her, describing Danielle perfectly. Then Danielle told her, to give me a message. It was a message that I would find so powerfully perfect. She told me that my wife was happy that I was moving her stuff and getting rid of it. The woman explained this was because it was helping my wife let go from this plane of existence. It meant the yard sale was the right course of action. Continued.... https://www.reddit.com/useDancin_Beyond_Cancecomments/ghw69s/read_chapter_23_part_2_messages_from_the_ethers/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x
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