"You have no need to outrun a Dragon. You need only outrun the slowest farmer." - Tab Earber, survivor of Kystik's*

*Young Green Dragon (Deceased). Attacked the Northern Farmlands. Killed by the Heroes of Maya at his lair in the Forest.

There is this rare Mind Flayer Telepath DnD figurine resting on my desk. It was a Christmas gift from the Alex the Tard-tical two years ago, and I have used the so-tong sparingly for a few sessions since then. It was my choice for Kharisma K. Karpenter, a custom Mind Flayer Warlock, in Shell's adventure.

The thing was that I had more fun with the Flayer than the character itself. I was fiddling with it a lot, and making it do imaginary spell-casting action. Of course, it could be also due to the fact that I played a Star Warlock who was more into cowing his opponents into submission (Intimidation) than attacking them.

These plastic figurines spruce up the combat part of the game, allowing one to visualize the action going on. But most importantly, these 1-sq inch based markers allow you a visual peek at your character and maybe even show off a little of its concept or uniqueness.

You imagine playing a Warforged Crossbow Caster; imagine a Warforged holding a crossbow, maybe in light armor, softly chanting arcane recitations. You soon realize that the idea is great; and then proceed to buy a DnD figurine depicting just that.

The players will be able to identify the character instantly instead of having to look through pages of character sheets with garbled handwriting or sub-par printing. Even if they do not get what they are seeing by looking at the figurine, they would be curious enough to ask you about the peculiarity of it all.

A sample conversation between two players who spend the time to figure their characters out:

Fie: "Eh, why is your character holding an ugly two-handed phallic-looking farming tool in his hands?"

*No answer. Fie starts to repeat himself.*

Fie: "Why is your charac-"

Kat: "For your information, it's called a dickspade, okay? And Rhombert B. Fielding is a lv 9 skilled harvester of multiple grains including wheat and oats. With a feat invested in Advanced Seasonal Changes. Any more dumb questions or can we just get this adventure started?"

*awkward silence. End of conversation.*

Um, right. I have tagged a photo of several sample figurines below, including the Warforged Crossbow Caster and his friends.

(L-R) Vek Chippendale's Gay Stripper, The Warforged Crossbow Caster, Shit on Four Legs.

So go enhance your roleplaying experience with this simple addition to your game. Wizards of the Coast has minted thousands of figurines for every encounter you can possibly think of; so no excuses as these people have worked their butts off to pry the hard-earned cash off your hands.

But the figurines are worth it. Look at the countless ways you can interact with them. Shake them violently to show that they have been "bloodied". Lift them off the ground to prep for a "Daily", shouting nonsensical war cries. Lay them flat on the grid when they are prone. Smack them hard when you miss on a "1". Rotate them around when they are flanked and tell your DM that you were alert to it and thus will not grant combat advantage to the enemy for that round.

See?

It's never wrong to go plastic and get all natural with the game.



Update: On a more serious note, our group are looking to pool some cash together and buy a large number of DnD figurines to make our encounters more visually pleasing and systematic for the DM as well. Hopefully, I will get to meet the seller and see his entire collection. More on that when it happens.

The HoM Fact-Files: This story is really (about) Astra.

Hi all,

My campaign will be resuming this week after a month's break, with the characters exploring the rest of the Pit Trap hideout they stumbled upon.

Alvin sent me a unique take on his character a couple of weeks back, giving me new and previously unknown information on the naive Changeling Sorcerer who has begun adventuring with the HoM. Here it is, his character background, in his own words.


The Beginnings of Astra 

My earliest memory of my parents is blurred and fuzzy at best. They placed a ring around my neck and told me that they will always be with me. I never really understood what it meant but we can come to that later. It was carved from a single, perfect topaz and had the color of honey. I remember that it always felt warm, like my mum’s embrace.

I was brought up as Astra Smith in the Smith family. We lived in the outskirts of Jarr, a mining town nestled on the eastern shore of Khorvaire  in the Tranquil Isles.

My adopted parents told me that they found me in a basket, crying, outside their door one day, with nothing except a short note begging them to care and raise me- and the ring that was around my neck. They treated me as their own and loved me deeply. Even though life was simple, they taught me everything they knew and tried to give me their best.

I never knew I was different, I meant, my hair was white and fine, and look sickly all the time as I have generally pale gray skin. They weren’t many people in the village and we only travel in when my parents wanted to celebrate my birthday. I always felt uncomfortable with the stares and gazes from the others, but my parents told me that everything was fine.

I was happy and loved.

But happiness doesn’t last forever. I was awaken from my slumber when my mom, hugged me crying and begging those men to spare them. Father was lying down on the ground, lifeless. I never did know why those men came. They pulled me from my mum and killed her in front of me. I never knew what death was until then. I didn’t know how to react. “No witnesses!", was all that was said as the axe came crashing down.

Before I knew anything, blinding light enveloped the area and stopped both me and the blade just two inches away from my head. In the next moment, a surge of energy ripped through my body. It created such a big force that it blew everything away. The men, the house and it destroyed everything.

I was saved but everything had changed.

I awoke in a warm bed, surrounded by people. I was found and rescued by the Society of the Red Hood. They were sorcerers. They have been tracking the people who murdered my parents. They were a group of bandits and had wanted to use my house as a trap for the sorcerers who were hunting them.

They recognize that I was different. They knew that I was a changeling. Under their care, I discovered my potential in magic. My mentor, Major Rays, groomed me and taught me the acts of sorcery. More importantly, there seem to be something unique about that ring. They were fascinated that it could produce a strong blast that activated and hurt enemies when I was threatened. I knew that it protected me, but I didn’t know how. Unfortunately, none of the sorcerers were powerful enough to identify my ring.

From their training, I grew in strength and learned my abilities well. At the age of 16, I was given my first mission together with Major. We were supposed to be on a scouting mission; a simple introduction to the dangers of the living world.

We travelled to the continent of Ca-en.

This simple mission turned out to be a disaster. We were being ambushed a group of men, that called themselves, the Holocaust. They were powerful and had in their midst a strong wizard. They capture the both of us and my mentor was tortured, wanting him to tell them our secrets. She refused and therefore wasn’t spared. But I was again being protected. They couldn’t touch me. However the wizard is powerful and forcefully broke the bond between the ring and myself.

The agony was too much to bear and I thought I had died. I didn’t know what happened next.

After I awoke, I realized I could not remember anything about myself except for a scar. It was a ring-like circle, on my chest.

My quest has begun…