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The Mountain [D&D-Gamer, MCU]

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When I fell asleep in my car last night, I hadn't expected to wake up in a vast trashyard; I...
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1.1. Trash Heap
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    • Orion Ultor

    Orion Ultor

    Everything’s Got A Price.
    Location
    East Coast
    Pronouns
    He/Him
    When I fell asleep in my car last night, I hadn't expected to wake up in a vast trashyard; I mean, when you fall asleep in a Home Depot parking lot, you expect to wake up in a Home Depot parking lot.

    But no, this morning I woke up to the sights, and smells, of a massive junkyard.

    So, here I was in my car buried partway through a mound of trash and all of this, wasn't as a big of a concern to me as the fact that a massive, what looked like to me, stormcloud above me. As any reasonable person knows, you aren't really supposed to leave your car during a thunderstorm, so I didn't. When you're locked in a car in a strange place and afraid to leave because electrocution is a thing, I assure you, the panic attack that follows sucks. I'm actually not sure how long that lasted, but when I eventually managed to pull myself somewhat out of it, I took stock of what I had: a couple 1-liter waters, a backpack with D&D material and a sh*tty computer, a blanket and a journal…wait.

    Picking that up left me more confused than not, since I don't own a journal like this, and upon checking it out I was even more baffled. It was filled with an empty D&D Character Sheet, parts of it blank and shimmering; inquistively, I began going over the journal to continue to distract myself. It had pretty much everything in the Character Sheet and it was mostly blank, save for the Background and Equipment sections.

    Apparently, who'd ever written this had wanted to be an Outlander and they'd been wearing Traveler's Clothes, with a staff, a hunting trap, an animal trophy, 10 gold, 7 1L bottles of water, several tomes…I stopped. I sit there dumbfounded for a moment, before quickly making an awkward attempt to look into my sedan's trunk…and sure enough, there was hunting trap and a long claw in there. Slowly I turn back toward the journal, before pulling out my Player's Handbook and rapidly trying to decide how I was going to test this–

    –at which point, more crap landed on top of the car, burying me further into the pile.

    "…should I stay or should I go," I half-heartedly sing, as I gather my sh*t together, preparing to do the stupid and go outside into a thunderstorm.

    The first thing I noticed after I'd stepped out was that the trash heap was far larger than I had initially given it credit for, stretching for miles in any given direction; the second was a colorful cityscape off into the distance. Neither of these facts helped me at all in understanding where in the world I was, but it turned out, that I knew exactly where I was, because that was no thunderstorm above the car…it was a f**king wormhole, one that I had come to know by name.

    I was staring deep into the Devil's Anus.
     
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    • interesting but probably too short for an opening chapter. I cant tell whether this will live up to its promise or not and the job of the first chapter is to assure me it will do exactly that.
     
    1.2 Trash Heap
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    • Day 1​

    Standing there, peering into the heart of a wormhole with an unfortunate name, I found the size of it to be a far more terrifying sight than anything I've ever witnessed; a massive maw hanging in the sky, a rolling thundercloud of malice hanging in the air. The sight alone was cause enough for my legs to be cut out beneath me, and I fell back against the car.

    "F*ck," I whispered to the empty air.

    Apparently, dramatic timing is now a thing in life, as more trash crash landed a short ways off from me.

    It had taken me a moment to calm down from the 'giggle-fest' (was more of a maniacal chuckle, really), after which I made an attempt at gauging the distance between my current location and the city–and realized* as I was climbing the next mound that I would expose myself to the Sakaarian Scavengers by doing so. With that realization, I quickly scrambled back down and decided that a better course of action would be to construct a temporary shelter that wouldn't get crushed by falling debris. As I looked around* I managed to find quite a lot of useful material: a few support beams, a metal door, a massive tarp(?), some kind of propellant canister, and a cracked metal sheet. It took a while*, but I eventually managed to drag the support beams and tarp over to the car, nearly giving out my back in the process; as for the other material…it's generous to say I failed to even budge them. Regardless, eventually I managed to somewhat-reinforce the area around the car from future impacts, redirecting the debris to fall to the side; coincidentally, this also had the effect of obscuring it from from view*.

    In the waning hours of the day, I quickly scoured the area for any form of substinence*. It had taken awhile, and about when I was going to give up and start subsisting of local vermin (several of which suspiciously resembled a cockamouse), I found a container full of MREs…or alien granola bars, either or. Going over them, I found that while I couldn't read any of the writing on the side, there were pictograms (of what I assume were Kree) that gave detailed instructions on their proper usage, which honestly made me laugh.

    When all was said and done, as the afternoon(?) sun was starting to coast low over the horizon I unpacked the journal and my D&D books and started planning out my(Character)self:

    "It sucks that I've only got the basics with me right now," I said, looking over my Player's Handbook, DM's Guide and the Monster Manual, "but I've got to make due; while I'd love to love to actually be a Warforged Artificer, I don't have the gorram stats on me."

    I groaned at that, briefly imagining the sheet terror I could bring on this corner of the multiverse–and wow, to think that crap was actually real–before I moved on.

    "First, I'm far, far away from Earth and that means I need to get back; this either means access to Magic or being incredibly persuasive, preferably both," I mumble to myself, making notes in the margins of my notebook, "but since this is Sakaar, this means that I need to be able to fight, just in case, and due to the actual location of where I am, attuning myself to natural magics would be a mistake."

    Immediately, I was narrowed down to Bard, Cleric, Monk, and Paladin…and as I stared down at that list, I already knew my choice.

    "While I may hope to be pious or wise," I muttered to myself, tears forming in the corners of my eyes, "I haven't earned it."

    Name: John Marcus
    Class: Bard 1
    Race: Human
    Background: Outlander
    AC: 13
    HP: 11

    Cash: 10g

    STR- 12 (+1)/[+1] = 11+1
    DEX- 15 (+2)/[+4] = 14+1
    CON- 16 (+3)/[+3] = 14+1+1
    INT- 13 (+1)/[+1] = 12+1
    WIS- 13 (+1)/[+1] = 12+1
    CHA- 19 (+4)/[+6] = 18+1

    Languages: Common, Celestial, Dwarvish, Primordial
    Equipment: Leather Armor (Worn), Longsword (Main)
    Inventory: Backpack (Dagger, D&D Books, Entertainer's Pack), Car, Healer's Kit, Lute.
    Human Determination (Racial)
    Wanderer (Background)
    Prodigy (Innate)
    Acrotbatics: +2
    Animal Handling: +2
    Arcana: +2
    Athletics: +3
    Deception: +4
    History: +3
    Insight: +1
    Intimidation: +4
    Investigation: +1
    Medicine: +3
    Nature: +3
    Nature: +1
    Perception: +1
    Performance: +6
    Persuasion: +6
    Religion: +1
    Sleight of Hand: +2
    Stealth: +2
    Survival: +3
    Drums: +2
    Lute: +2
    Viol: +2

    Tinker's Tools: +4
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    As I finished filling out my Charcter Sheet in the journal, two thoughts simulataneously occured to me: One, that eventually I'd get to benefit from Jack of All Trades and Magical Secrets, both pretty baller, and Two, that I should have been sitting down as I wrote this out, as I slowly slumped against the car unconcious.

    1. Perception: rolls d20-1 = 6
    2. Investigation: rolls d20-1 = 14
    3. Athletics:
    4. Survival: rolls d20+1 = 14
    5. Investigation: rolls d20-1 = 19
    Disclosure: Forgot to include Outlander Proficiency in Athletics and Survival when doing their initial rolls on Rollz; it's been fixed on this end, but that's the source of discrepancy between here and Rollz.

    Add: Before I forget, I used my actual, IRL dice to roll for Stats.
     
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    • oh your actually rolling your success. thats pretty uncommon, but I like it. still it does mean that your not going to be able to plot things out much ahead of time. you also did better with ending at a more natural point so tentatively watched for now.
     
    Can someone tell me what a bard does, i mean like gamplay wise is it a good class to survive alone.
    Also i am curious weather you need an instrument to use magic. Does he have one.
     
    In gameplay terms the bard is a classic case of good at many things, not excellent in any of them except perhaps for communication skills, though how good or bad depending on exactly what version of the rules is used. For solo play they can be ok, they can do a little healing, some magical attacks, some thievery.
     
    1.3. Trash Heap
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    • Day 2​

    "Getting up with a kink in your back is just the worst, ain't it?*" I grumble to myself as I get up, sore from having slept most of the night on the ground.

    The day wasn't much better from there, despite any successes on my part. While I'd managed to scavanged some more material to help construct my shelter, it wasn't nearly enough for me to do much other than prop up some of the tarp to a more comfortable height. Still later, I discovered that the Metal Door I had been taking a crack at the day before had in actuality been still attached to a persumably totalled Spacecraft(?) and nearly broke my back trying wedge the door open…good news was that I'd managed to get the Propellant Canister out from under a pile, and at least partway to my shelter…not a step further when I noticed the sounds of approaching craft and immediately stopped.

    Luckily for me, they hadn't come much closer to my location so I slept somewhat peacefully.
    Day 3​

    When I awoke the next morning, I awoke to the sounds of scuttering outside of my encampment. Paranoid (and who wouldn't be on a planet of gladatorial slavers) I quitely moved to observe the source of the noise. To my horrified surprise, it turned out to be two bipdel, humanoid lizards rummaging through my campsite.

    Probably figure that with a low HP and a INT of 13, I'd have tried to hide myself…you'd be wrong.

    I got pissed when I saw this, for a multitude of reasons (the least of which was that they were digging into my rations), and like an angry farmer about to lose their livliehood, I stormed out of my shelter and fired off Tasha's Hideous Laughter* at the one with the gun. Not even checking to see if the Spell'd taken hold, I fired off Minor Illusion* for use as a flashbang at the most painful, steady pitch I could imagine. They faltered, and in that moment I took advantage, slashing* with my Longsword at the bigger of the two.

    It struck, drawing blood from him(?), splattering the side of my face with their green blood splattering me across the face with their green blood; the fact that first blood had been drawn by me, me, made kinda giddy. It was that fact that must have distracted me, as within a matter of moments they retaliated and I collapsed to the ground in my own blood.

    As I faded from conciousness, for the second time this f**king week, I overheard the name, or what I assumed to be the name, of one of them.

    "…Khupeayu! …" a higher pitched voice screamed. Female.
    Day 2:
    1. Perception: rolls d20+1 = 2
    2. Investigation: rolls d20+1 = 14
    3. Athletics:
    4. Stealth: rolls d20+2 = 14
    5. Perception: rolls d20+1 = 12

    Day 3:
    1. Initiative: rolls d20+2 = 16
    2. T's Hideous Laughter: rolls d20+4 = 11
    3. Minor Illusion: rolls d20+4 = 19
    4. Longsword Attack: rolls d20+4 = 21
    Damage- rolls d8+1 = 7​
    5. Death Saves:

    Disclosure: Goofed on Longsword, its +3 was added in Editing.
    A/N: …gorram it, I need to do some revisions. Joy; be back in a few days.
     
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    • Anthium said:
    o.o
    With rolls like these this story might be over before it even gets the chance to begin. Remind me, is it 3 successes/failures, whichever comes first, or do they cancel each other out?
    Click to expand...
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    Basically, you roll until you reach 3 of either, so whichever comes first. And man, I was way more terrified of a critical popping up, since they count for 2.
    Acolyte said:
    I mean attacking seem suboptimal at this point but why did he still do it.
    Click to expand...
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    All told, this took less than two minutes, but what set him off was them looting the MRE container which had enough food in there to supply him for a few months. He knew if they lived, they would have returned with more numbers and he'd be back to square one and with no rations. Worse than that actually, since they'd have likely searched the nearby area for more goodies like it and have found him.

    At least, that's how he would have rationilzed it if he hadn't been knocked out.
     
    1.4. Trash Heap
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    • Day 3​

    I eventually awoke to a sharp pain deep in my side, cauing me to raspily gasp as I quickly smashed my hand into the body of a terrier-sized vermin, the adrenaline of the moment keeping me calm despite the sudden distress I was in. Grabbing the stunned rat by the neck, I just started pouring all my frustration into destroying the thing; eventually, I managed to gather enough wherewithal to start calming myself, letting the rhythm of my breath to keep me anchored. It…barely worked, as the more aware I was, the more horrified I became…at which point I came to realize that all that remained of the vermin was bits of pulp and bone.

    I'm not sure how long I'd lain there in the filth, the blood pooling underneath me, but eventually I managed to gather enough energy to pick myself up and stock of the surroundings*…what I saw did not inspire confidence within me. For one thing, my Longsword was now gone from where I'd presumably dropped it and at least a few months of MREs were now gone. Second, the shelter I had been painstakenly building up the last few days was in shambles, the tarp(?) I'd been using for cover now gone.

    Paniced by this and as quickly as I could, I took inventory* and found the only thing that had gone untouched in their raid was the backpack, with everything in it, under the car. Upon finding it, I immediately began attempting to stabilize* myself with the small first aid kit I had kept in there. While I think I did a fair job of it, I had no water (they'd taken it too) to even try to slake my thirst and replenish the lost fluids…and that scared me shitless*.

    As quickly as one can, I started gathering what meager supplies I could carry with my wound. I'd tried to locate something to help make my load easier*, like a sheet or a wheel barrow or something, but since I was panicing over their possible eventual return, I just booked it…or tried to, at least; in the condition I was in, I only barely made it about a hundred yards before I nearly collapsed in pain*. Taking a moment to just suck it up, I looked back* to ensure that I wasn't leaving a fracking blood trail they could use to track me and immediately saw bloody bootprints following me. Cursing aloud, I made a weak attempt at wiping away the blood* with my (now ruined) sweatshirt and once more tried to book it*, failing miserably.

    In the two-three hours that followed, I barely managed to travel less than two miles away from my old shelter when I eventually came across a small clearing* where I could take a short rest. There, I reapplied some new dressings on my wound and tried to recover some of my health, using up the Healer's Kit as I did so.

    An hour or so later, I caught myself start to nod off; wiping away some of the drool off my chin, I cursed under my breath for staying so long and began making preperations for leaving the clearing* and towards the city.

    01. Perception: rolls d20+1 = 17
    02. Nature: rolls d20+1 = 16
    03. Investigation: rolls d20+1 = 16
    04. Insight: rolls d20+1 = 13
    05. Medicine: rolls d20+3 = 18
    06. Investigation II: rolls d20+1 = 2 [Nat1]
    07. Athletics: rolls d20+3 = 5
    08. Constitution Save:
    rolls d20+3 = 23 [Nat20]
    rolls d20+3 = N/A    ​
    09. Stealth: rolls d20+2 = 3 [Nat1]
    10. Survival: rolls d20+3 = 14
    11. Short Rest: rolls 1d8 = 3 HP
    12. Perception: rolls d20+1 = 6

    Disclosure: Goofed; top of list says "Correction, Trash Heap 1.3", it should read 1.4 instead.
    Name: John Marcus
    Class: Bard 1 [80/300]
    Race: Human
    Background: Outlander
    AC: 13
    HP: 4/11

    Cash: 0g

    STR- 12 (+1)/[+1] = 11+1
    DEX- 15 (+2)/[+4] = 14+1
    CON- 16 (+3)/[+3] = 14+1+1
    INT- 13 (+1)/[+1] = 12+1
    WIS- 13 (+1)/[+1] = 12+1
    CHA- 19 (+4)/[+6] = 18+1

    Languages: Common, Celestial, Dwarvish, Primordial
    Equipment: Leather Armor (Worn), Dagger (Main)
    Inventory: Backpack (D&D Books (3), Entertainer's Pack, iPhone 6, Laptop (2014), MREs (8lb)).
    Human Determination (Racial)
    Wanderer (Background)
    Prodigy (Innate)
    Acrotbatics: +2
    Animal Handling: +2
    Arcana: +2
    Athletics: +3
    Deception: +4
    History: +3
    Insight: +1
    Intimidation: +4
    Investigation: +1
    Medicine: +3
    Nature: +3
    Nature: +1
    Perception: +1
    Performance: +6
    Persuasion: +6
    Religion: +1
    Sleight of Hand: +2
    Stealth: +2
    Survival: +3
    Drums: +2
    Lute: +2
    Viol: +2

    Tinker's Tools: +4
     
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    • Wow is the story feeling dis jointed. I feel like doing rolls like for every little action is hurting the narative.
     
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    mostly yeah, I think that's because we are only now getting started, as we grow in level and power we probably won't need to roll anything for most actions
     
    "Access to magic, persuasive, and able to fight" seems like it could easily include Sorceror and Warlock as well - especially Warlock. Either would be a lot better at the magic/persuasion thing than Monk, certainly. (Monk/Cleric/Paladin is more wisdom than charisma. Was this remnants of an old edit?) For that matter... bards aren't particularly good at fighting in 5e. They're a lot less Jack Of All Trades and a lot more "full caster, with a side of skill-monkey and ally-buffing".

    Now, I'm not saying that Bard is a terrible choice. You might well decide that you didn't want to go Warlock because the idea of making eldritch pacts just seems deeply unwise, and you want Bard more than Sorceror for... whatever reason (perhaps in character you just like bards). It's just that the list of classes you presented and the reasoning you used simply don't match.
     
    Definitely feels disjointed, however the premise is interesting, and from what little I can gather of the character this seams to be worth a watch .
     
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