Mx Any Of Dungeons and Dragons (Plot-Focused Fantasy Ideas)

[ToWriteAndWander]

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Plotting of the First -

Smoke can be seen on the horizon. This comes as no surprise to YC - the tracks YC are following lead towards it. As YC gets closer they can see that its a Homestead that is burning - both barn and main house. A sign off the side of the road suggests its a tavern, a place of refuge for those traveling through these parts. Given that its been a good day or two since the last settlement, YC can understand its location. The dirt path leading up to it is well worn - wagon wheel ruts cut deep into the earth and flagstones have been placed in places to fill in the worst of them. A place of business, clearly.

Approaching closer, the smell of burning wood fills the nostrils of YC. Its tinged with the faint smell of burning flesh. At least some body was still in the house when it was set on fire. The ground around the barn was churned up by the feet of several horses. And then YC would see it.

A body, about halfway between barn and house, an arrow still protruding from its back. A black shafted arrow, with black feathers. The same sort of arrow that had killed YC's family. And then the body moved.


Plotting of the Second -

The screaming started after the last embers of the fires dwindled down to nothing.

Labored breathing, the sounds of people still rutting late into the night. Snoring. The occasional fart. All the typical sorts of noises one expected after a feast. The crackle of the fires had slowed to the occasional pop, no one left awake to tend to them.

Some muffled noises, the sound of body thumping to the ground. Then the sound of disturbance as some one thrashed out in their dying throes. The first to wake screamed to raise the alarm, causing panic. The effects of mead and ale kept many from even putting up a fight. But then a hero blew on the alarming horn, waking all those in the village to their senses before it was cut short.

Ragnar barely made it out of the village alive, a cut over his temple bleeding profusely, making it look much worse than it was. He had last his seax in the dash for survival, making it into the deep woods, the sounds of pursuit behind him. Was it really abandoning something that was already lost? Whoever had attacked had timed things perfectly, dealing a fatal blow before the alarm could even be raised.

Fires crackled anew, from hut to hut, as the village burned. The screams continued into the early hours of the morning, the smell of smoke permeating deep into the forest to even where Ragnar lay hiding. His wound still oozed blood - he would need to tend to it soon - but at least he was alive.

The real question now, though, was were there any other survivors?

Plotting of the Third -

Plotting of the Fourth -

Plotting of the Fifth -