Over the DM's Shoulder

Wednesday, August 6, 2025

Of Gods and Dragons: Aurora Epilogue

In the campaign, Aurora was an often sweet and kind person who fought for what was good and right; she was also impulsive, chaotic, and occasionally dangerously ambitious. She often led the charge on whatever the party faced, sometimes creating a clever spell to solve a problem and sometimes reasoning her way out of a tight spot. Her custom class, the Fae Physicist, was designed in order to let her excel at these things, and excel she did. Aurora's title as the Fae dragon cements her as one of the ten most important and powerful people alive. 

In the epilogues, I give the players time in four separate times: immediately following the campaign, one year later, ten years later, and fifty years later, leading up to one hundred years later. Below is a summary of Aurora's actions in these time periods: 

After the Campaign: 

Aurora went back to Torga with her adoptive mother, Heather. Together, they expanded their apothecary business greatly by using Aurora's new ideas and new power. Aurora would use her glyph magic to create a dozen copies of herself, and with the copies, she and Heather would create a massive amount of high-quality potions in record time. Aurora also began making plans to establish an apprenticeship program for apothecaries and aspiring arcanists. Aurora then secured a deal with Zamira and the crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald to ship their new bulk potions across Evanoch, a deal Zamira was eager to accept, though she admitted being afraid of Aurora after witnessing Aurora turn the mercenaries sent to the Edmund Fitzgerald inside out. Aurora offered Zamira an enchanted statuette of a daunting Aurora; should the statuette be invoked, Aurora would be notified and could teleport to the Edmund Fitzgerald to defend it. 

Meanwhile, Aurora began work on a book--a primer on how to navigate talking to dragons meant to help new dragons adjust. She decided that this book would have a section dedicated to each dragon, and she started with the section on herself. A few days after everything calmed down, Jarvia came to call, apologizing for questioning Aurora and distancing herself--Jarvia said that doubting a sister was wrong, and she should have given Aurora more trust. They reconciled, and Jarvia was delighted to see Aurora's primer on the dragons. Jarvia was glad to see Aurora getting started with her new life, and she cautioned not to try to live out a whole immortality at once. 

A Mortar and Pestle boomed. With the high volume of potions they could sell in town, they were doing better than ever. But with the addition of the Edmund Fitzgerald's shipping, Aurora and Heather were selling bulk potions across the southern and eastern coasts of Evanoch--even in a city as large as New Dalton, A Mortar and Pestle's potions were ubiquitous next to local potions. The apprentice program soon filled up, aspiring apothecaries hoping to learn from the most dominant and talented apothecaries in this part of the world. Aurora also noticed one apprentice, Devin, who seemed to be gender non-conforming and somewhat out of place in the apothecary program in terms of work. Aurora asked some questions of Devin, whose answers indicated that they liked helping people--satisfied that Devin could be trusted, Aurora summoned ABC, who instructed Aurora on how to offer a Fae deal to Devin to become a Fae Physicist. Devin accepted and began working to learn to use glyphs. 

The Edmund Fitzgerald encountered resistance at sea a few times, and Aurora would appear, massive and looming in a giant version of her Daltoner form, over the ship and threaten the attackers. This worked very well aside from one occasion on which Aurora was forced to attack the oncoming ship, and the stories told about the event scared off any future attacks on the Edmund Fitzgerald. Aurora pestered Heather about needing siblings or at least a step parent, and Heather anxiously admitted that she'd been quietly seeing the woman who ran the bookstore down the road since shortly after returning to Torga, and they made plans to meet together as a family. Heather's girlfriend, Tricia, was a quiet and sweet halfling woman who asked a lot of questions and listened intently. It was clear that she genuinely loved Heather and enjoyed Aurora's presence, talking at length about scientific ideas she'd read about. In the time that followed, Tricia would make time for family events, but she seemed to often stick to herself out of disposition rather than anything social. Nevertheless, Heather, Aurora, and Tricia got on well, and the first year passed busily and happily, Aurora even covertly finding out what gemstones Tricia liked to advise Heather what ring to buy. 

One Year After:

A Mortar and Pestle was succeeding like never before. In fact, Aurora and Heather had more potions built up from their work than they could sell, house, or ship with Zamira. Aurora said they would need at least a new storage place and might as well build a new shop. Together, they set to determining where to expand to, and after careful consideration decided on Talon Gorge. In the weeks that followed, they purchased property on the main road into Talon Gorge's center and secured a team to start building the shop. They also chose apothecaries from their apprentice program to run the old shop in Torga, opting for a team of a classically talented orcish woman and a warm and inviting elven man to cover operations, while a promising quiet young halfling woman would run the new Talon Gorge shop alone. As the completion of the new shop loomed, Heather and Aurora decided to take a vacation together--the new shop would busy their lives, and both knew that Aurora would only be at the shop for so long. In fact, Tricia chose to forego the trip to give Heather and Aurora more time together. They planned that once the last details were taken care of, they would go to Curagon, and Heather would show Aurora what her hometown was like. 

Before they left, Aurora's old friend David from the Edmund Fitzgerald came to Aurora and asked to become a spellcaster. Aurora asked a few sneaky questions, and David said he wanted to have power and be able to do things. Aurora judged this as an insufficient answer and suggested apothecary training. David said to forget the whole thing and left. Devin's training as a Fae Physicist went swimmingly, and Devin gained power quite quickly under Aurora's tutelage. Devin also leaned into their performance of gender and became quite confident and happy working with Aurora, who was pleased to find that Devin's success as a kind spellcaster seemed to be a combination of their own determination, their inborn potential as a spellcaster, and their willingness to listen to Aurora's advice. Aurora discovered that Devin often went around helping poor and injured people when not working. After a few days, Aurora realized that she'd never given David the chance to directly say whether he meant to help people and called for him. Asked who in the world he would help, David described how hard it was growing up in a boys' home with no consistent caretaker, and Aurora pledged 10% of A Mortar and Pestle's profits to a revamping of the boys' and girls' homes in Underhar, where David was from, asking him to be the head of the home. David accepted, and Aurora sent Devin with him to help get things started, putting Aurix in contact with Devin to help with training while Aurora was away. 

Heather and Aurora elevated a young halfling apothecary apprentice to watch the Torga A Mortar and Pestle during their vacation; the halfling was nervous at first but worked hard to make them proud. During their time in Curagon, Aurora saw a new way of life--underground homes, a thick rainforest, no government at all, community like she hadn't seen elsewhere, new cuisines and traditions and so much that helped her see her mother in a new light--the places her habits and values came from, the way Heather stepped back into life in Curagon as though she'd never left. It was a time of peace and rest, and Heather and Aurora had never been closer. Aurora was delighted that no halfling the met batted an eye when Heather called her her daughter, and Aurora was able to discover plants within the rainforests that she'd never seen before. 

After the trip was over, Jarvia called on Aurora to talk. Aurora went to Jarvia's estate, and they discussed Aurora's experience in her first year as a dragon. Aurora was all business, focused on achieving her goals as efficiently as possible. Jarvia understood this, saying that getting rich or accomplishing a life's quest is usually the first thing a new dragon does. Aurora explained that she was capable of granting Fae deals, something that Jarvia preached caution with given that even Fae are careful about what deals they offer. Aurora shared that she'd finished the introduction of the primer as well as her own section; now it was time for the other dragons, and Aurora asked Jarvia to be the first. Jarvia agreed and shared some cursory thoughts--it's important to refine your values, it matters how you work with others, remember that you have as long as you like so nothing is worth rushing--and promised to offer deeper thoughts as they worked together. Jarvia happily shared that New Dalton was suffering--she believed that Horton had been protecting New Dalton and its road for centuries, and without him or a replacement, New Dalton was slowly falling apart with massive waves of immigrants leaving the capital. Jarvia and Aurora fell to playfulness and teasing, and when Jarvia pushed the teasing to the point she threatened to hold Aurora down and compliment her, Aurora kissed her. 

As time passed, A Mortar and Pestle became a household name in two of the biggest cities in the world. The Talon Gorge shop was a spot for travelers, healers, and common people of all types, and the team Aurora and Heather chose for it balanced each others' strengths perfectly. The Edmund Fitzgerald crew used some of their increased profits to obtain two more vessels which they dubbed the Victory and the Rhone, larger versions of the Edmund Fitzgerald with expanded cargo holds. Thanks to these new ships, the crew could expand their shipping routes, going as far north as the Ablan Ocean and as far west as Grob Island from Torga and all along the north coast from Talon Gorge. What's more, the massive amounts of cheaply available potions which help with health circulating across most of the continent generally improved health for people, and at least along the coasts, public health had never been so robust. 

David was established as the new head of the boys' home he had grown up in and began making changes to improve life for the boys there. He and Devin spent a few months experimenting with which policies and changes worked best, then expanded their investment to other group homes and orphanages around Underhar, implementing the same changes in those places. Hiring standards and incentives were increased, and within the space of another year, the quality of life in public housing in Underhar was high enough that David was able to observe that many raised in these programs actually had better chances at success than some in conventional dwarven homes. Devin, on their return to Torga, worked with renewed purpose after seeing the good done in Underhar with David. Devin worked with Aurora  at times but mostly trained with Aurix. After some experimentation, Devin discovered a way to use glyphs to empower the potions created at A Mortar and Pestle, focusing their work on healing potions. This allowed Heather and Aurora to offer healing potions that could be administered as emergency lifesaving tools, and these proved very popular with a variety of crowds. 

Aurora and Jarvia worked on the primer and their relationship. For a long time, they explored their budding surprise romance in between intense interviews for the primer and their discussion of what it means to be a dragon or to have free will. There were days spent cuddling, flying as dragons, reading together, walking Jarvia's estate and beyond, days that had a slowness and deliberation that immortality helped to create. Jarvia showed Aurora things all over the world--noodle shops outside Mishara, trees that grew in spirals in the Shorgon Forest, the southern edge of Fanin after a long flight to the north--so many things that Aurora never could have experienced before her dragonhood. Once they'd settled with each other, they shared a playful relationship with mutual respect softening the teaching of each other. Those who were with Aurora and Jarvia together said that they had their own little world no one else could quite make sense of, and together, Aurora shared with Jarvia an innate understanding and a drive to always keep pushing that forged a bond between them unlike most. At long last, Jarvia's section on the primer was finished--in it, she returned to meeting Aurora and the necessity for free will, even in those you oppose. She also looked to the future, reminding that essentially all dragons alive have proven themselves trustworthy, so don't make the mistake of overthinking. Jarvia spoke at time about the aloneness of being a dragon and of being misunderstood; she also contested Aurora's assertion that dragons have a responsibility to the public, saying that life is more complicated than pure good. She argued instead that a dragon shouldn't poison themselves with urgency, suggesting taking time off regularly to stay fresh. They agreed that Aurora would continue her interviews for the primer but would return to Talon Gorge often and send messages and even paper letters. Jarvia sometimes came to observe and hang out with Aurora's interviews, but Aurora always went about the process with the utmost diligence. She went in the order she'd met with the dragons to discuss their help those years ago now: from Jarvia to Wing, then Aurix, then Niela, then Rupert, then Hriskin. 

The interviews for the primers took time, but they went well. Wing said that dragonhood makes you not quite a person--you are separated from normal people by the extent of your power, and that will always mean needing to be aware of your difference. Aurora asked if Thomas was a cautionary tale; Wing insisted he wasn't--Thomas was a particularly broken individual in a broken system, and he was not an outlier. The dragon system needed the reform they had given it and potentially more to function well. Wing described the power of cooperation and unity, how she'd been defined by a hatred of Thomas she was helpless to do anything about, but with the others, she'd been freed of that. Wing told Aurora that Aurora saw fault in things as they were but didn't know life with the dragons divided--this was better, Wing said. Ultimately, she wanted to shake things up in dragon culture, hoping to inspire more positive change. 

Aurix said they regretted not supporting Rupert more at the beginning of his dragonhood, wondering where Rupert could be now with help; Aurora comforted them that ultimately, Rupert would be okay, and Aurix need not worry themself too much. Aurora also told them that her legacy would go beyond herself, suggesting Aurix make moves to do the same; Aurora's company was still improving health across the continent, and Aurix could certainly do something big if they meant to. Aurix said they felt freer now that Regg, Thomas, and Horton, their three nearest neighbors, were no longer threats. Aurix said that doing good was about math--some things create better net effects than others, and they should be prioritized. At the same time, Aurix fundamentally believed that black and white thinking is rarely appropriate, something that seemed to confound them as they described it. Instead, they said, talk with others to find the details that matter. Ultimately, Aurix said they still believed that empowering people by leaving the rift open was philosophically sound, and that they believed their legacy may come from empowering people.

When Aurora visited Niela, she found that Niela and Brokk had settled down and had twins. Aurora was at first sad, reminded that she could not be a biological mother, and Niela promised that Aurora would spend lots of time with the children, Viren and Sempra, black-and-red-scaled dragonborn four-year-olds, during her visit. This proved to be true, and Aunt Aurora absolutely spoiled the children over the course of her visit. In her interviews, Niela was especially present and focused, often describing how her perspective had changed. As the odd chromatic dragon out as a not entirely evil person and an assumed foe to the metallic dragons, Niela had always focused on survival and staying one step ahead alone; now, she had friends, allies, and a family, and she could see a different way of thinking. What seemed before to be interfering in the world now seemed to be saving that world. Niela said that before, it was revolutionary to think that metallic and chromatic divisions are imaginary so long as free will exists--now, she and Brokk's roles in the chromatic dragon world have proved conclusively not to place any faith in the color of a dragon's scales. Niela said that new dragons should be ready to leave behind their trauma and do something to help the larger dragon project of making things better. Niela and Aurora agreed that Aurora would be the bridesmaid in Niela and Brokk's wedding when the time came. 

Aurora's visit to Rupert came with the discovery that Rupert had built and was running a network of homes for the needy in Finiel; because Rupert was the sole manager of four large homes, he was incredibly busy but still found time to talk to Aurora, even if only in short bursts. Rupert shamefully admitted that he had had it all wrong when they first met him. After he digested what Lethanin had said, he began to see more clearly. Rupert told the story of his life and only realizing that he owed people something recently. Aurora discovered that much of Rupert's income still came from an extortion racket, convinced him to dissolve the arrangement, and donated a massive sum to Rupert's homes. Aurora suggested expanding further, which Rupert resisted--he said he was doing good and was happy doing it. Nevertheless, Aurora pressed him, suggesting Rupert make smart investments to secure future funding and expand his homes to welcome people from other cities. Eventually, Rupert did do all of this, and after Aurora's visit, his homes for the needy grew to include struggling people from all over Evanoch. In the last days of Aurora's time with Rupert, they cured an old woman in the home of night terrors, and Rupert promised to keep figuring more of the dragon thing out. 

Hriskin was delighted to see Aurora and greeted her with a batch of potato cakes like Aurora had once made for her. Aurora could see that Hriskin had regained an old energy; Hriskin was warm and charismatic, confident and charming, and it was easy to see how she had commanded the love and respect of the arena with this bold nature and gentle manner. Aurora happily told stories of Viren and Sempra playing hide and seek with her, which delighted Hriskin. Aurora thanked Hriskin for always standing by her, then made a pass at Hriskin, who was at first confused and then explained she was attracted to men. The two dragons shrugged the moment off and began the work of the primer. Hriskin said that dragons are successful in their lives before dragonhood; in that way, being a dragon is about succeeding at mortal life and then beginning a much harder, bigger game as a dragon. She asked Aurora about her pre- and post-dragon priorities--Aurora said destroying Pelor's Mercy and protecting dragonhood, respectively. Hriskin said this illustrated her point; destroying a town is mortal work, but defining power across the world is dragon work. Hriskin told Aurora that the elevation of the dragons meant that they owe goodness to the world. The brass dragon said that there's no limit on what a dragon is capable of--anything disadvantageous will pass in time, so never be dissuaded from something. They ended Aurora's visit with a wrestling match as dragons, which Hriskin surely won.

Aurora's time with Brokk was simple and quiet. Aurora spent time with the now seven-year-old Viren and Sempra, who were avidly pursuing orcish history and astronomy, respectively; Viren now very much took after his mother, and Sempra after her father. When Brokk spoke for the primer, he emphasized the responsibility of being a dragon--he said they have agency that never goes away. Money, prestige, and property can all be lost, but a dragon will always be powerful. With that, said Brokk, the best thing to do as a dragon is help. Helping small and large are equally valid--just help. He said his place in the world now was as a humble father, nothing more–he just wanted the world to offer the same opportunities to his children that other children everywhere enjoyed–it was a matter of justice. Brokk and Aurora would have these conversations roaming gardens, drinking coffee, gesturing wildly--Aurora could see in Brokk a total commitment to action in all things and an avoidance of contemplating too much as Brokk's answers came quickly and freely. When Aunt Aurora's time with the family ended, the kids insisted on throwing a big party as a prelude to a bigger party the next time Aunt Aurora could visit. 

Aurora visited Lethanin in his new island tower, where he proudly showed Aurora his construction and decoration. Lethanin described a project in which he spreads art to different cultures, offering examples of success stories. When interviewed, Lethanin was hesitant to say definitively that dragons have a distinct responsibility; he was, however, willing to say that having the power of a dragon does enable a person to do good. Aurora pressed Lethanin on this, and Lethanin admitted to feeling a responsibility about his position as a dragon. That responsibility was not to Evanoch, though--Lethanin felt obligated to serve his role as a "weird" dragon, to bring hidden truths to light, to try to find out what it all means, and to allow people to be themselves. But even saying this, Lethanin questioned what responsibility is at its core--does responsibility impair free will, the thing they'd fought to regain? Lethanin was still searching for answers himself, and he was eagerly pursuing the search.

Every dragon who spoke to Aurora pointed out something good that she had done, and a moment later, every dragon pointed out that Aurora had refused to take credit. This fact was not mentioned in the primer. 

Aurora is a busy woman, and between running a transcontinental alchemy empire, maintaining a romantic relationship with one of the most powerful women in the world, defending the Edmund Fitzgerald and its fleet, and otherwise tending to her many irons in the fire, working tirelessly to complete the primer with the input of these eight dragons took the bulk of her time leading up to a decade after the events of the campaign, leaving only the green dragon to be interviewed to complete the primer.

Ten Years After: 

The primer nearly finished, Aurora set out to find the green dragon. She found their sprawling estate outside of Curagon and magically unlocked the door, walking right in. She was met with a panicked halfling wielding a crossbow at her. After a tense conversation, the halfling identified themself as Xavier, and Aurora and Xavier negotiated the terms of their new arrangement: at Aurora's insistence, she would stay with Xavier for a year, learning from him--but she did not mention the primer. Seeing that Aurora was deadset on the arrangement, Xavier relented, and their year together began. Aurora would follow Xavier in the mornings, watching them tend to accounting matters personally, make investment deals, and collect on outstanding debts. Aurora interfered in the debt collection, leaving more money behind for people than they had to pay, much to Xavier's frustration. When questioned, Xavier said they simply liked making money because it was a way to numerically measure success in a life that resists real goals. Xavier described making money as a momentary pleasure, something a dragon needs to survive immortality. Aurora suggested that helping people could be a momentary pleasure too, which Xavier ridiculed. 

Time passed. Xavier asked about the place of the chromatic dragons and the deaths of their colleagues; Aurora said that Thomas was killed because he interfered with their plan to save the world, Horton had been an impediment to a better world, and Regg had simply been a case of bad luck. This allowed Xavier to see that their position was safer than they'd thought. Aurora asked Xavier how they felt about their lack of personal connections, and Xavier angrily replied that Aurora hadn't lost everyone she knew yet. To show Xavier that she knew real pain, Aurora transferred a sensation of gender dysphoria to Xavier, who remarked that they felt something like it when identified as male. Aurora also allowed Xavier to experience the feeling she felt when she fixed the broken road in Talon Gorge and the realization that she was a good person, not a monster as she'd been led to believe. Xavier described the horrors of being abandoned as a child and how they believed empathy to be a weakness. Aurora suggested that Xavier use their massive wealth to help people and to embrace their gender more fully. At the same time, Aurora moved money from A Mortar and Pestle into Xavier's investment firm, where it began to accrue interest immediately. 

In the months that followed, Xavier's behavior started to change. No longer did they collect debts personally, nor did they tend to every accounting issue personally. Instead, they focused their time on making investment deals and holding meetings which Aurora was not allowed to attend. When Aurora protested this, Xavier asked for trust. Their wardrobe began to include more diverse and colorful outfits, and they seemed more cheerful with people. After months of the secret meetings, Xavier invited Aurora to attend one of the meetings. When she did, Aurora found that Xavier had built and financed a formidable organization built on improving public welfare--there were plans for food pantries, boarding houses, public health, and more measures meant to improve life in Curagon and the halfling lands beyond. Xavier asked Aurora's input; she suggested some vocational training program to help people get back on their own feet, and this was unanimously supported. Xavier made plans to support this organization indefinitely. 

With only one month left in Aurora's year with Xavier, she introduced the concept of the primer. She revealed her dragon form, which confounded Xavier, and asked them what they believed about dragonhood after their year together. Xavier said that dragonhood was a blessing or a curse, and it's up to the dragon in question to decide which one for themselves. This freedom to choose is a vital part of the equation. They also said that success is the first step for dragons, but dragons are responsible for doing something with that success, not just resting on your laurels. Xavier stressed that you can always change what you are doing to something better, even after hundreds of years. And Xavier returned to the idea of small joys, arguing that time will wear on a dragon, and finding small joys will carry you through. 

All the while, Heather was with Aurora, and they would spend the evenings together. In response to Xavier and Heather's qualms about the halfling style of parenting, they began to develop a new style of parenting, simply called by those they introduced it to "New Parenting." This idea essentially combines all the most caring and progressive ideas on parenting from across Evanoch into one whole philosophy. They would brainstorm and then promote their ideas across Curagon, and within a few months, their ideas had caught on quite rapidly. By the time that Aurora and Heather's time in Curagon came to a close, they had managed to spread New Parenting to many new people, gradually improving the lives of children in the central region of Evanoch and beyond. 

The only element of Aurora's primer that remained was Aurora's own section. For two months, she pored over her notes from the other dragons and compiled her own ideas. In the end, she began the primer by simply giving helpful observations, some guidelines, and some warnings. The rules of being a dragon were there--you're immortal to time but can be killed. Suggestions were offered: talk to the other dragons, form a community with them, go to the dragons for help with grief. Aurora also offered a rule--you must do good, or she would kill you, and she will be watching. She closed her brief introduction by offering a way to contact her. 

The primer complete, Aurora began hunting for the unclaimed dragon title stones so that she could set a contingency spell that would alert her and others of any stranger nearing the dragon stone. The chromatic dragon stones were enchanted so that Aurora, Brokk, Lethanin, Niela, and Xavier would know of any visitors to the stones; the metallic dragon stones were enchanted to grant Aurora, Brokk, Lethanin, and all of the metallic dragons of visitors; the elemental dragon stones would alert just the party (Aurora, Brokk, and Lethanin), and only Aurora would know of someone visiting the Fae dragon stone. Aurora invited her apprentice Devin along for the trip, and they did accompany Aurora, helping in any way they could. Aurora ultimately suggested that Devin try their hand at adventuring, as it is a bigger help to help with greater power as a reward--Devin agreed, eager to help people, and set off at the end of the journey to adventure. 

The dragon stones themselves took time to find and enchant. In all, it took ten years and three months of searching to find each one. She quickly found the blue dragon stone in New Dalton and the white dragon stone in Ringsdale, where the previous dragons had lived. Then began the search for the chromatics, locating the purple dragon stone in the Shorgon Forest, the orange dragon stone in the Kraal Desert, the yellow dragon stone at Lake Playbor, the brown dragon stone in the Chalba Forest, and the grey dragon stone on the Asherinisem Plains. Then began the search for the remaining metallic dragon stones: the iron dragon stone was found on the Homin Peninsula, the steel dragon stone was in the Cosetta Forest, the lead dragon stone could be found on the Haenok Plains, the pewter dragon stone was on the Ralarr Plains, and the tungsten dragon stone was hidden on Senetosa Island. Finally, the search for the elemental dragons began. Aurora found the fire dragon stone on Valcora Island, the earth dragon stone on Grob Island, the air dragon stone at the peak of the Kragg Mountains, the water dragon stone at Lake Unaron, the crystal dragon stone at the Great Cliffs, the plant dragon stone outside the city of Xale, the animal dragon stone on the Raolo Plains, the undead dragon stone in the swamp outside Nopirock, and finally, the Fae dragon stone in the Faewild on an island which Aurora walked across water to reach, learning that her dragon title was Benevola. 

Aurora had been gone for more than a decade. Her quest to protect the dragon stones was complete, but she had spoken to no one from her life in all that time. She tended first to the business. A Mortar and Pestle was doing amazingly well. Aurora trained new apothecary apprentices in Torga and Talon Gorge, ensuring a new batch of experts to run the business with her away. She also selected a studious, kind, principled, and dedicated apothecary who she selected to be a new Fae Physicist. This new Fae Physicist, a Faninite woman named Andi Rhing, progressed quickly. More ambitious than Devin, Andi soaked up as much of Aurora's training as she could and set out adventuring to hone her skills and help people in need. A Mortar and Pestle was doing well enough between normal business and the investments with Xavier's bank, and Heather suggested expanding into another city; they agreed on Curagon and began steps to set up a new shop there. Heather and Aurora agreed that the point was no longer to make money--they had more than they could ever need--but spreading easily, cheaply available health services was worth the expansion. Within a year, the Curagon chapter of A Mortar and Pestle was as wildly successful as the other shops, and public health in Curagon had improved markedly. Heather herself was doing very well. No longer running the day-to-day operations, she seemed at peace. She spent lots of time with her partner, Tricia, who was delighted to get to help with things in Curagon--she too had a role in imagining New Parenting. 

Aurora visited the Edmund Fitzgerald and discovered that most of the crew had aged out of sailing. It had been more than twenty years since Aurora's time on the ship, and only Captain Zamira truly remained from the old days. Aurora and Zamira chatted about what was new, the legend of Aurora aboard the ships, and Zamira's secret fourth ship; the main fleet was strictly legal shipping for A Mortar and Pestle, but Zamira's fourth ship, which she spent most of her time on, was a classic privateer operation, and she still enjoyed the high action of the seas most of the time. Aurora promised to visit more, and the old friends parted ways for now. 

After nearly eleven years away, Aurora returned to Talon Gorge to reunite with Jarvia. Jarvia was happy to see Aurora if a little reserved about the long absence, and they caught up. Aurora talked about the dragon stone protections, and Jarvia said she had been learning armored combat and fighting bandits across the region in an effort to keep things fresh. Aurora told Jarvia that she wanted to train as a paladin with Hriskin, and that now that life could be simpler, she wanted to think about making her mother a grandmother. Jarvia was surprised, asking if she was included in those plans; when Aurora said she was, Jarvia said that spending some more time establishing their relationship first would be a good step. They spent a few months together, bonding, working together, and relaxing, before Aurora set out on her next journey. 

Before Aurora committed to any quest, she established a routine. Two months of the year, she would spend with Jarvia, simply striving to further their relationship and enjoy their partnership. Another two months would be spent visiting friends and family, seeing the other dragons, Aurora's old friends across Evanoch, and her mother and Tricia. Aurora announced that all apothecary training through the apprentice program at A Mortar and Pestle--this move was made so that she could spend additional time with Jarvia throughout the year. The rest of her time was dedicated to moving forward with existing and new plans, such as becoming a paladin. 

To investigate this fully, Aurora went to visit Hriskin. They discussed the heavy responsibility that is being a paladin. Hriskin said that the god she'd sworn an oath to was Heironeous, god of justice and using might to help the vulnerable. Aurora said that Heironeous did feel right to her; she had actually considered Pelor due to the presence she'd felt when destroying Pelor's Mercy. Hriskin was hesitant about this; she felt that Aurora might not want to align herself permanently based on a moment of destruction since it is a way of defining oneself. Aurora said she didn't know which gods to consider, and Hriskin recommended speaking to Niela or Jarvia, who were better versed with the gods. 

Following this suggestion, Aurora went to Niela, delighted to find the Brokk-Niela family happy and progressing. Aurora explained the situation and said that she wanted to connect with a god whose ideals matched her own. Niela asked what those ideals were, and Aurora said she lived by the idea that being free is what defines being alive and that what you do to the least of us is what you do to yourself. Niela considered and explained that three gods might work. Ehlonna believed that power is responsibility and that all must have the right to life and choice. Yondalla believed in fighting for the common person and held that choice is power. St. Cuthbert would understand being turned immortal as a mortal, and that his beliefs revolved around creating justice and fighting for freedom. Aurora said that Ehlonna and Yondalla felt the most right and agreed to speak to these goddesses. Aurora also offered Niela the information on the unknown chromatic dragons she had gathered, which Niela gratefully copied down. 

Aurora found a deserted wayshrine to Yondalla in the far north of the halfling lands and prayed to Yondalla. Yondalla spoke to Aurora calmly and stoically, explaining that she'd disagreed with closing the rift because she didn't know the dragons would change like they have. She said that she could sense Aurora was lacking in purpose and offered to give her purpose. She said that Aurora had lost her fight, and she would give Aurora that fight back. Yondalla also reminded Aurora that even more power would come with an oath, something that could improve Aurora's ability to do good. Aurora said she needed time to decide, then found a quiet shrine to Ehlonna in the northern Cosetta Forest. A human woman who identified herself as Ehlonna, flashing for a moment an image of a humanoid deer in intricate armor. Aurora was quiet and meek, and Ehlonna comforted and praised her for having distinguished herself as a doer of so much good. Aurora was still uncomfortable, and Ehlonna magically bestowed a sense of calm and hope on her with a gentle touch on the shoulder that felt like warmth and soothing pressure. Ehlonna called this blessing a gift for Aurora's many good deeds and thanked her for her work. Aurora said she needed time to decide. She considered her possibilities long and hard, weighing what was right for her.

Fifty Years Later: 

Eventually, Aurora teleported to the statue of ABC in the Liggen Forest not far from Pelor's Mercy. She burned incense, gathered wild fruit and mushrooms, and bound a sprig of mistletoe with lavender and rosemary as offerings to Ehlonna, hoping to enlist as a Paladin. Aurora told Ehlonna that she "had read and studied" to know what good was, said that she would not worship Ehlonna so much as work together because they shared goals and values. She stated an intention to swear an Oath of the Ancients and said she was driven by the belief that "whatever you do to the least of these, you do also to yourself." After a time, Ehlonna answered, asking for the respect that a goddess might command, and told Aurora that this was not a business transaction--it was a matter of morality, guidance, and justice. Ashamed, Aurora admitted that on some level she was scared that she could become a villain. Ehlonna hugged her and comforted her, saying that choosing what is right is a task we face every day, and Aurora could choose to use her immense power for good. Ehlonna explained that Aurora was good at inspiring others to be good, and this was something that Ehlonna believed would be an enormous benefit if used well. Finally, Ehlonna told Aurora that most people feel what is right, but Aurora knew what was right, and that would always help keep Aurora safe in good. As a way of beginning their relationship, Ehlonna asked Aurora to deal with an urgent issue: the Mountainside Mining Company in Ringsdale had an employee publicly report that slavery was being used by the company, and the following morning, the employee who reported it had been found dead in the public square. Ehlonna asked Aurora to deal with this and to make the justice done public.  Ehlonna further requested that Aurora take a lengthy break from her work and see Evanoch with fresh eyes after the Ringsdale mission was complete. Aurora agreed and adopted the mistletoe, lavender, and rosemary as her holy symbol. 

Aurora headed to Ringsdale via the old site of Pelor's Mercy while disguised as an elf. She found that the statue she had made of Pelor had been cracked in places where people had tried to destroy it and marked with graffiti. Aurora cast a spell to cleanse the statue and repair and fortify it as well as blessing it; in an instant, the graffiti disappeared, the cracks disappeared, and the statue hummed with divine energy--and as it disappeared, Aurora spotted a bit of graffiti that read "the Light Dragon is the Horned One." On her way to Ringsdale, Aurora stopped in the city of Feirmor to gather a party of adventurers to help her in her mission. She went to a rowdy part of town and found Six Bars, a collection of taverns where she met Heidi the dwarven Cleric of St. Cuthbert, Wendy the Faninite Barbarian, and Xyla the half-elven Rogue/Bard. Aurora paid the bartender to keep the drinks flowing and told the women about the job, and at an offer of 50 platinum pieces, all of them signed on. 

Wendy went with Aurora to buy a horse, and Aurora casually mentioned having been at Pelor's Mercy, remarking on the strange "Light Dragon" and "Horned One" writing. Wendy explained that people had seen a pastel-colored dragon in the moments after Pelor's Mercy fell, who Daltoner religious officials had claimed was an earthly incarnation of the Devil. Aurora let slip more of her relationship with Pelor's Mercy, then made an elaborate story to cover her mistake; Wendy said that Aurora didn't need to make up stories or even say anything in the first place. Aurora bought a dappled mare and a saddle, hitching the horse at the stables for the night. Aurora and Wendy returned to the tavern. 

When Aurora arrived, she made another awkward slip and cover story about her identity, and Xyla point-blank asked if the job was real at all. Aurora acknowledged that she struggled with social interactions given a pretty big secret she meant to keep and promised them that the job was in fact real. The adventuring party accepted this and drank more, and meanwhile, Aurora went to the city's temple of Pelor. She entered and spoke with a cleric who answered her questions: the Light Dragon was pastel blue and pink with white and had only been seen on a few occasions, notably at Pelor's Mercy. Daltoners were taught to believe that this dragon was deeply evil and meant to distract them from worship of Pelor; the cleric had seen many Daltoners leave their struggling capital city and seek worship at the Pelor temple only to find that this was a god of kindness, light, and healing, not fear and sacrifice; many Daltoners, the cleric said, had immigrated heavily to Feirmor, which had been a culture shock for everyone. Aurora thanked the cleric for his answers and dropped a platinum piece in the offering dish on the way out and back to the tavern to turn in for the night. 

The following morning, they rode to Ringsdale and found a standoff between armed workers and armed mercenaries. Aurora questioned one of the workers, who explained that the mercenaries were hired by the Mountainside Mining company's owner to keep the workers, who were calling for an end to slavery conditions, from working, which infuriated them, as the paid workers were already making starvation wages. Aurora called on the mercenary leader to answer questions and cast Zone of Truth on him. The leader answered the question "Do you represent corporate masters?" with "I assuredly do--the pay is good." Spooked, the mercenaries fell back into a defensive position, and Aurora attacked the leader with her rapier, killing him as the blade attuned to Aurora. Aurora, the adventurers, and the workers pushed the mercenaries backward until they were trapped against the company's warehouse. Several of the mercenaries surrendered rather than risk their lives, and Aurora and the other fell on the remaining mercenaries with non-lethal tactics. Aurora loudly declared that the men should be imprisoned and not killed, that Mountainside Mining would be henceforth worker-owned, and that she hoped the company would be more respectful of the rights of nature and people moving forward. As she spoke, Ehlonna cast a silvery light in her on form on Aurora. Aurora regrouped with the adventurers and explained that really, she was someone else, dropped her disguise, said, "the dragons are back," and then transformed into her light blue, pink, and white dragon and flew away. 

Aurora traveled the continent as Ehlonna had asked, visiting friends and cities and taking in a world she had worked tirelessly to make better for over fifty years. She saw great progress in the cities where she and the other dragons had worked to create social services and access to reliable, cheap, powerful healing potions and other alchemical products--Torga was doing better than it ever had, Curagon was thriving, Talon Gorge was improving every day, Finiel was a center for those in need, and Ringsdale was taking a sharp turn for the better. In other cities, things were good but they had their own problems; Kruush had entered the modern cultural conversation in new ways, but was dealing with facing the problems that brought with it, Mishara was culturally blossoming but politically at odds, and Vestry was as prosperous as ever but with no growth. Meanwhile, New Dalton was falling apart, and Underhar was suffering under an oppressive culture and government that prevented all but a small percentage of male voters from voting in any election. Rather than be content with the advances in half the major cities of Evanoch, Aurora chose to focus on what came next. 

Back from her travels, Aurora expanded the orphanage project, which her old friend David was still running, into a full social services program like she and Xavier had instituted in Curagon (and Xavier and Brokk in Ringsdale as well as Xavier and Lethanin in Torga). She also added a department whose purpose was political--it was meant to run a campaign to change voting rights so that any adult dwarf could vote. Aurora invested her funds and contacted Xavier to help the social services programs, which they happily agreed to. 

Not long after, Aurora was contacted by Hriskin, who Aurora immediately teleported to visit. Hriskin described struggling with not aging, which had started raising eyebrows--her return had initially been a celebration, but now people were wondering why a Faninite had been able to stay young for hundreds of years. Aurora initially suggested just going public as a dragon, but when Hriskin was slow to respond, Aurora suggested instead posing as the half-elven granddaughter of herself. Hriskin liked this plan, and Aurora magically made Hriskin's face more angular, changed her eyes to brown, and gave her pointed ears. They discussed the joys and stresses of Paladinhood as well as the effects of the Mountainside Mining incident--Hriskin said several other Ringsdale companies had become worker-owned--and Aurora's dwarven suffrage campaign, which was starting to get traction despite heavy opposition. Conversation turned to Xavier, and at Aurora's description of the program's efficacy in other cities, Hriskin decided to go in as the manager of another branch of the program in another city. After some discussion, Hriskin opted to move to Underhar and take over a bulk of the social services there in addition to expanding. Hriskin adopted this plan cheerfully, saying she wanted to "fix the big hole in the ground that Thomas fucked up." Hriskin readied to move, and Aurora set magical protections on Hriskin's cottage. 

Aurora spent years tending to her other goals--improvements in Underhar, the maintenance of her projects, the cultivating of apprentices, her relationships--before being contacted by Ehlonna with a new mission. Ehlonna explained that in the city of Chance, an inventor had developed mechanical earpieces that allowed people to talk via shared consciousness with anyone else with an earpiece. The devices had functioned incredibly well and accumulated purchases from most people in the city, but earlier that morning, those wearing the earpieces had become part of a large hivemind whose actions were aggressive. Aurora gathered a new group of adventurers, all anxious young men (Reid the Daltoner Druid, Xorn the elven Ranger, and Lam the gnomish Bard), and headed to Chance. There, they found the city in a surreal state--people seemed to be going about their lives as normal, but things were off. A man watered the ground ten feet from a flowerbed; a child repeatedly tried to walk through a closed door; a woman nodded at a book which she was holding upside down. Aurora attracted the attention of the man with the watering can, and he opened his mouth, eyes flashing yellow light, and screamed, "Intruder!" 

Acting quickly, Aurora took out the man's earpiece, which caused the yellow light to disappear and for the man to have no irises or pupils. Aurora cast Restoration on the man, and he awoke, complaining of pain. She healed him, and he thanked her, introducing himself as Craig. He complained that he felt like there was a physical object inside his head, but Aurora and Reid confirmed that this was imagined after careful medical examinations. Craig explained that his last memory was the moment he put the earpiece on. With caution, Aurora and the party told Craig to hide and then set out across Chance to find the inventor of the earpieces. For the most part, Aurora and the party made their way stealthily through the lakeside city, but there were a few occasions when they had to non-lethally dispatch agents of the hivemind and remove their earpieces. Eventually, they found a shop advertising the sale of the earpieces. They broke in and found a deserted storefront and a locked door, which Aurora slashed down with her rapier and Thunderous Smite. Behind the door was a halfling man with an elaborate beard and piles of gleaming coins, shocked to see Aurora and the party. Having sensed Vecna's divine energy on the storefront, Aurora knew to use Command to halt the man from doing anything, then bound and gagged him and began to swiftly carry him towards the edge of town. As they ran, Aurora removed the inventor's earpiece, and a group of hivemind agents in the distance fell to the ground in unison. Aurora stopped at several of these people (who seemed increasingly to be everyone in town) to check vitals and confirm they were okay, then rushed on. 

Outside of town, Aurora ungagged the inventor and asked him to explain himself. He said it was all obvious in what she had seen and refused to go further. Aurora cast Command again, telling him to explain himself, to "tell the story." The man relented under the spell, explaining that he was a Cleric of Vecna. He had sought favor with his god by inventing a product that everyone would want and then casting complex control spells on each one. The task, the inventor said, had taken him nearly 40 years. Aurora and her party had undone it in less than a day. Aurora was unsure of what to do with the inventor, so she prayed to Ehlonna for guidance. Ehlonna advised Aurora to not mistake weakness for mercy. Struggling to accept what this meant, Aurora began to rationalize that perhaps she didn't have to kill him; he was a two-bit--Ehlonna interrupted. This man had chosen evil and dominance every day for 40 years. He was powerful enough to make it happen. He could not be allowed to live. Aurora accepted this and explained the decision to kill the inventor to the party. Aurora executed the man by imploding him as she had the mercenaries from Thomas at Torga. Aurora paid the shocked party, instructing them to retrieve the earpieces, destroy them, and redistribute the money to the townsfolk. Then she turned into a dragon with a remark about the dragons being back, and flew away. 

Aurora kept at her projects. A Mortar and Pestle was providing essentially the whole world with affordable health potions, and both profits and public health had never been higher. Apprentices trained under Aurora were considered some of the best in the world. Aurora's Fae Physicist apprentices, Devin and Andi were making their own paths--Devin had mastered a series of spells that allowed them to multiply food, clean water, and basic medical supplies through magic as well as constructing moderate housing through glyph spells and was touring the countryside helping small communities, and Andi had continued an adventuring career, finding and destroying evil artifacts and relics so that they could not be abused (she was known among bandits for storming forts for such magical artifacts). Aurora and Jarvia had grown into understanding and constant partners in all things, and Aurora continued to spent a fifth of the year with her; she also dedicated a fifth of the year to her mother, Heather, who was loving pseudo-retirement. She could spend half a day negotiating business deals and designing public health campaigns and spend the rest with her now-wife Tricia, who had turned the bookstore into a literary museum and retired to travel with Heather. 

Niela contacted Aurora and asked for time to talk. Aurora immediately teleported there and hugged Niela. They chatted for a while--Brokk and Niela's daughter Sempra was around to say hello--and Niela got to the matter at hand. Mishara had ousted the leader, Cestalion Findlan Tristaa, who was banished from the city. In the days that followed, a new government announced that a council of five leaders would be democratically elected in the following weeks. Niela explained that she was strongly considering running. Aurora was surprised--"This is very much not like you," she said. Niela said that she'd thought hard about it. She was not like Aurora in feeling a need to to do good. But she could sit at a table and reason out what's good and convince others to follow that. The council felt perfect. It was at this point that Niela further added that she intended to run with her identity as a dragon revealed. Aurora was again surprised, but Niela said that dragons had a great reputation now, and it was worth using to do something good. Aurora offered her support in whatever way she could help. The fell to discussing other things; Aurora shared the experience of killing the inventor, and Niela said that Aurora had done the right thing. They discussed New Dalton's slow implosion, and Niela shared a few details Aurora hadn't heard, including that the Dalton Church of Pelor had amended some of its teachings to appear to have always identified a pastel dragon as an incarnation of the Devil who would appear at a great time of crisis requiring unity. Aurora congratulated Niela on her decision to run and wished her well. 

(Aurora would hear from Niela and others that in the following weeks, the elven council was established. On it were Jesmyn Lytor, Ahver Nylin, Plia Corridi, Zuflin Oriola, and Niela Destill. The highest amount of votes in the election went to Niela Destill. The second highest amount of votes were write-ins for "Vuthiejir.")

Aurora embarked on a new journey--a creative one. She set to writing poetry and creating accompanying paintings. For a while, as with any artist trying a new style or medium, Aurora was dissatisfied with her work. But she persisted, as all good artists must, and in time, she grew fond of her work. She would write a poem in loving script and paint a scene that she felt was tied to it and leave it in a city at an intersection. For years, she did this, expressing herself in real, raw, vulnerable ways that brought out more than poetic feelings in those who read it, left carefully in places where people might see and be touched. It was after years of this that Aurora and Lethanin discovered in conversation that Aurora was an artist and Lethanin had a cultural exchange program that spread artists' work. Aurora submitted some work to Lethanin and kept at her crossroads style of presentation, always honing her craft and looking for new and exciting ideas. 

During a stay, Jarvia asked Aurora for advice. She had seen Niela's success in politics but didn't think being a public face or having that much responsibility would suit her. What she instead thought would work was influencing the council more subtly. She suggested going in disguise and becoming a drinking buddy who could introduce more progressive ideas to the more conservative members of the council. Aurora was resistant to this; they discussed whether it was moral to influence the council members rather than approach them directly, and that led to a questioning of whether the ends justify the means. This snapped Jarvia out of it. She did not believe in the ends justifying the means. Aurora admitted that she found it easy to get lost in details like this and feared one day becoming a villain. Jarvia comforted her, saying that Aurora was the purest, most infinitely good person she had ever known, and never had to fear being a villain. She also admitted that she always left her estate in disguise, afraid to be judged as not a woman by people. Aurora assured her no one could think that. They comforted each other and resolved that they would talk to the council and see what happened. 

The next day, Aurora proposed to the council that they adopt more progressive ideas. A conservative council member bitterly asked for examples, and Aurora immediately rattled off a whole plan (a plan they had executed in Curagon, Ringsdale, Torga, and Underhar)--public health would be foremost, including sanitation works; trade schools would be developed using the Mortar and Pestle apprenticeship program as a model; the rights of citizens would need to be enshrined in government law; more public spaces needed to be created and cultivated. The council was mostly excited by Aurora's input, only dampened by a pair of conservative members of the council. 

In the following weeks, Talon Gorge saw big improvements. Public sanitation improved drastically and included infrastructure to avoid future work. Several types of trade school were built quickly, and public word was that they would be opening very soon. And a few citizens' rights made it into law--the right to own livestock, the right to wear clothes of any color, and the right to be outside at night. It was clear that the council was either unsure of what rights matters or couldn't agree. Together, Aurora and Jarvia had an idea. For days, she worked on a song. Eventually, she went to the council chambers with her lute without a disguise and performed a song called "Manifesto." In it, she played a repeating and light, hopeful tune that intensifies with each repetition, a song whose lyrics named rights like freedom and safety and opportunity, but which also ranged to the more philosophical, like the right to define and express oneself and the right to think for oneself, but Jarvia repeatedly sang that all people have these rights in all conditions, perhaps to make it clear to the council members what they were really hearing. The song concluded in a burst of Bardic light, at which point the unofficial leader of the council, Tru'usk (somehow still kicking), asked if the council could use some written lyrics as a blueprint. Jarvia jotted some notes and passed them to Tru'usk. A week later, a majority of Jarvia's suggestion were enshrined as law. 

More than 80 years after the events of the campaign, Aurora was contacted again by Ehlonna. Ehlonna simply and cryptically told Aurora to go find a rainbow parrot that speaks all languages in the Heronal Forest and take it to a bird collector. In the dark about the purpose of the mission but willing to trust Ehlonna, Aurora reached out to the Daltoner Druid she had worked with before only to find out that she now went by Rita and was more than happy to help. Together, they went to the Heronal Forest and began searching for parrots. After a few close calls, they found a small nest with rainbow eggs. They set up a blind nearby and wait until a rainbow parrot appeared. Aurora tentatively called out, "Can you understand me?" The parrot replied, "No, I can't talk." Aurora asked in elven, "So you can't understand this either?" The parrot replied in elven, "Nope, definitely can't understand this either. Can't talk at all, you see?" Aurora asked if the parrot would be willing to do a good thing by coming to visit another place, and the parrot, who said her name was Lark, agreed if they would bring along her nest and eggs. 

Aurora, Rita, Lark, and the eggs teleported to Indigar, a city in the northwest of Evanoch. As they traveled, people would notice Lark and mutter things like, "Not another one." Eventually, they made it to a fine manor house with the massive Cosetta Forest behind it. Aurora had learned that the bird collector was named Frank, and the butler to the manor say Lark and promised to take Aurora to Frank. She, Rita, Lark, and the eggs were led through a neglected house into a beautiful and expansive aviary with all manner of birds nested there, with a man in the middle practicing tricks with a falcon. Aurora showed Frank Lark, at which point he excited showed them to a rainforest tree with a perfect crook for a nest. Frank promised Lark total freedom but unlimited food, water, and shelter when she chose to stay. Lark accepted, fearing the dangers of the rainforest. Frank led Aurora and Rita back through the aviary, explaining that he was the city's mayor and had been too depressed to solve problems, but Lark would really turn him around and fix a lot of public issues. Aurora paid Rita, and the two expressed some wonder at how things turned out. Aurora spoke to Ehlonna later, and Ehlonna said that Aurora's willingness to work on faith was meaningful and would not be forgotten nor unrewarded. 

86 years after the campaign, in the year 4806, Aurora's efforts in dwarven politics found a victory. By official decree, suffrage in Underhar was universal, not even tied to dwarven identity. The next election cycle brought some change--it was not a revolution, but considerably more progressive ideas entered Underhar's political world as a result, which came to mean fairly serious change rather quickly. Renovations in poorer neighborhoods, long neglected, became a first priority; public healing services were expanded; women's rights advanced radically; and property rights were revised to preclude predatory housing practices. Aurora's political group continued to function, aiding in some governmental underdog cases and bringing attention to important ideas and problems. 

In the 93rd year after the campaign, Aurora heard that A Mortar and Pestle had a poisoned batch somewhere in its Torga stores, with the general consensus being that it was unsafe to buy their products. Aurora personally tested every potion in the Torga stores and found no trace of poison. She did some investigating and discovered the identity of the accuser--Phil Deadtree, the now owner of a company started by a man Aurora had personally trained to be an apothecary. Aurora teleported into Phil's house and sat with him and his family as they ate dinner. The family was petrified and sat stock still all the while they sat there. Aurora cast Zone of Truth on Phil and accused him of mudslinging, saying she'd tested the potions and knew they were safe. Phil said that he was struggling and wanted to get ahead--A Mortar and Pestle was a juggernaut that would never miss some sales, but the profits he would get would be massive. Aurora told him not to spread lies and told Phil that she'd been there those 93 years ago when the company had become truly dominant, that she was much more than she seemed. She instructed him to issue a statement retracting the accusation and admit his reasons for lying. Initially, this deal also included Aurora co-sponsoring one of Phil's products, but she retracted the offer, disgusted by him. Instead, she paid him 200 platinum pieces as a consolation for the lack of opportunity he had due to her success after he explained how hard it was to compete with Aurora--it was either struggle, or leave your home and start over. Phil opened Aurora's to the reality that there's been improvement in the world, but people are still struggling, and Aurora truly grappled with this deeply. She felt as though she had created a system that hurt people, and that thought was very heavy. Aurora dropped the payment on the dinner table, turned to Phil's young son, said, "Now eat your peas," and disappeared. The following day, Phil publicly announced that he had fabricated the accusations, that A Mortar and Pestle is trustworthy, and that he was deeply sorry for letting his greed get the better of him. Aurora and Heather experienced no noticeable effect in terms of sales either way due to the entire incident. 

In the meantime, Aurora went to Heather for comfort. She had been shaken by so much of what Phil had said. Was the world really still bad after all of her work? Had she made some huge mistake in all that she had done? Was she really the villain after all--insanely powerful and unable to distinguish good from evil, the most dangerous thing the world could face right now? Had she been corrupted? Had she been evil all along? The thoughts spiraled, and Heather held her and tried to make her feel better. When Aurora was done spiraling, Heather began to speak. She told Aurora that Aurora was the best person she knew. That she would know if she weren't a good person after all this time. That being good is about choosing good, and that Aurora chose good on every single decision as long as Heather had known her. That no amount of fear could ever change the fact that Aurora chooses good. That things are much better 93 years in, and that's only the beginning. Heather told Aurora that she knew with the same certainty she knew the sun would rise tomorrow morning that Aurora will choose good no matter what, and that will always means we're all safe. Aurora cried for a while, and afterwards, she felt better. 

They continued to talk. Heather acknowledged it must be hard for Aurora to see her age and that is was hard to know Aurora would just go on forever and might forget about her. Aurora expressed with difficulty that she would never forget Heather but that losing her would be hard. Aurora described her newest art projects and poems, saying that they had come to feel natural to her, as though expressing something through poetry was easier than expressing it in conversation; Heather said she always loved whatever Aurora showed her. Aurora updated Heather on the various dragon outings and Ehlonna missions she had done recently, something that always made Heather both scared for Aurora's safety but also more proud than she could express in words. Aurora acknowledged her fears of being immortal--of becoming detached from reality and forgetting the real world, forgetting what's right and wrong, forgetting herself. As always, they were pillars of strength to each other, and both found a quiet joy in the way Heather was always Mom no matter how grown up Aurora had become. 

Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Why It's Better to Make Something Bad and Original than Good and Copied

This is not a screed against plagiarism from a former teacher who got a lot of essays written by ChatGPT. Okay, there will be one brief paragraph about that sort of thing, but only because of the principle within it. The title says it all, so let's get into it. 

In tabletop game culture, there isn't really such a thing as plagiarism in the way we think of other uses of the word. We are not just allowed but encouraged to use modules, to mimic the styles of GMs we like, to take inspiration from the things we enjoy--and that's not what I'm talking about. I'm not talking about a rule that says you can't borrow. I think some players would be disappointed to find that something a GM is directly claiming is original is in fact just something else written by another person, but I don't think that's really a big issue with tabletop games. What I mean basically comes down to a matter of choices. 

In tabletop games, as in life, everything is a choice. What you as the GM say happens is a choice that has obvious effects (and some non-obvious effects, usually). So is what NPCs say--it's a choice you're making as the GM. But then, so is everything you bring to the table. Every detail you include in GMing, from planning to the session to reviewing it for next session, is a choice. 

When GMs make the choice to include something original, they are likely to perceive themselves as taking a chance. In a way, it's true. Classic things are classic for a reason, and something original might fail to live up to that standard. That's the thought, anyway. But I would contest it. Every time I've played with a GM who's done something original, be it small or large, I've been impressed. I've been gaming for a long time and have seen a lot of campaigns, some which were modules and some which were entirely homebrew and some somewhere in between. The moments that we the players and the GM themselves were most happy during was original. And yes, that means that entirely homebrew campaigns tend to be more enjoyable than modules.

But what is meant by "enjoyable"? Science has demonstrated that our brains crave novelty. Simply put, big market modules are not going to introduce much novelty--they are incentivized to provide reliable, safe fun using the ideas that have worked before. There are some more unique modules out there, such as those on this site (ranging from movie one-shots to time loop adventures)--but even these are someone else's creativity, and what will get the most novelty and enjoyment is something that feels natural to you, the GM, and that means creating something of your own. (Have you ever tried to run something as a GM that didn't suit you? It's not fun, and it usually ends in disaster.)

So we come back to the fear: what if my players don't like the stuff I come up with? This is, as many fears are, totally irrational. Our ability as humans to create interesting things is not some binary--it's not either you're creative or you're not. We all have the capacity to come up with story ideas and character designs and interesting worldbuilding. What varies the most is our faith in making our own content. 

Let me present a thought experiment: two different campaigns, designed and run differently. Campaign 1 is run from a module by a GM who is uncertain of their ability to homebrew and chooses to do so as little as possible; Campaign 2 is run by a GM who is doing their best to implement some original ideas. Campaign 1 will include dungeons, monsters, combat, and some backstory, and Campaign 2 could be anything--literally anything. I've DMed a civil war, a scrape with a god, a campaign based on the National Treasure movie series, a massive sandbox, a mystery, and a game with so much importance to my world I have to set my next campaign a century later, and that's just in D&D. If those sound radically different from each other, they were! So over the course of three campaigns, the player of Campaign 1 is going to get three slightly varied dungeons, and the player of Campaign 2 will have seen a multi-storyline campaign designed in part by the players, an intensive investigation for a grisly and senseless murder, and literally becoming dragons, the most powerful people in the setting--and I have two players who have experienced exactly that. Which one sounds more fun? 

Why should we be afraid to create our own stories and characters and places? I'm personally afraid of using a module--I know I won't enjoy it, and it will hold back my creativity, which is a big part of why I play, so I won't have any passion in delivering the module. A dungeon presented by someone with no stakes in the game will always be moderate fun at most. But if you make something that ends up being even a little cool or surprising or funny or dramatic or epic, that is a gaming memory that the players will carry with them. They'll think, "Oh, I remember when my DM did this crazy twist where the goofy comic relief character turned out to be the villain and almost party wiped us," not "My DM made this weird thing--I dunno, it was kinda lame." If you actually do have someone with that attitude, are they really a good party member or even friend? Tabletop games are about coming together and sharing something special--creating your own material is exactly that. 

"But the title of the article says bad and original is better than copied and good!" you might be saying. "You haven't talked about if it's actually bad." Okay, reader, I concede that you're right. Let's talk about if it's bad. Again, I'll use an example. Years ago, I had a DM who ran a pretty nasty table. There were politics and social games and lots of discourteous behavior. It was hard to be a part of, but I was kind of hooked on the worldbuilding. Everything about classic D&D was tweaked. It was weird and silly a lot of the time. Story-wise, it was almost incoherent. Something about a threat against reality from an evil force--I don't recall much since it lacked sense and actual focus in the game. But as flawed as it was, I was really fixated. I kept coming back to face the nasty dynamics and directionlessness so I could enjoy this specific thing that the DM was doing, which was create an open world with lots of relationships and surprises. 

On the other hand, I had a DM who was terrified of trying to be creative. Their fear of trying their hand at creating even a storyline or an original NPC meant that we would play directly from a famous D&D module. Folks, it was a lot of dungeons and other fights. It was presented pretty much exactly as it is in the book. I hated it. There was nothing exciting or surprising to attach to. So yes, bad and original (an inconsistent and somewhat unpleasant campaign that had a lot of interesting ideas) is better than good and copied (using a module without changing anything). 

And yes, I am going to state for the record that using a module is basically copying. You're copying what the writer told you to do and copying thousands of other GMs in running that, and I say that as someone whose first bloc on this website is modules. Since the potential for what you could make up for your players is literally everything, opting to create nothing amounts to copying another experience for lack of trying. Now it's time for that teacher rant:

When I taught English classes that required essays, I would go in with familiarity of the students' writing styles. It's obvious when someone's diction and sentence fluency suddenly improve to college level skills, so I would run those essays through multiple AI detectors. Every time I was suspicious, I would get multiple hits for stuff like ChatGPT. I would go to the students who turned in these essays and ask them to define elevated words used in their essay. They could not. Because I was a forgiving and kind teacher, I would allow these students to try again using their own work. The resulting essays were generally better than the AI-generated ones because generative AI is, in general, utter garbage that doesn't understand higher thought, but also because those students were entirely capable of writing a good essay but were too afraid to try. 

Your GMing career might be like that. You don't know what you're capable of until you try. I've used some examples that make me look good--now let's look at my mistakes. As an early GM, I planned storylines because I thought it was creative to do so--now I know to use creativity to respond to players guiding the story. As an early GM, I was prone to treating player characters I didn't like antagonistically--now I know to be fair to all player characters since I don't always know what their player has in store. As an early GM, I tried to keep the game at the table and never discuss the game outside of referring to in-jokes from the campaign--now I know to be proactive and talk to players when I see potential issues developing. We learn through experimentation and making mistakes, and you can't do that if you're not trying.

One last point about modules. Imagine playing a module you've heard about or read, and the GM is following it to the letter. In one possibility, they end the module the way it's written. In another possibility, they end the module in a new way that takes all the players by surprise. Which is more fun? The one with the homebrew ending is only different in one way, and yet it becomes the focal point of the whole module. The players remember their surprise at the homebrew ending. This is success. And it can be taken further.

At the end of the day, maybe it's a matter of investing in yourself. Running a module might help you learn a few small lessons about GMing, but long-term, you can only go so far with modules. If you want to really get the most you can out of tabletop games, you have to commit to the perceived risk and trust that it's worth it. And I promise you: something original will always be better than something unoriginal, so make the effort to try. I talk a lot on this site about how homebrew is its own reward and about how learning to be a better GM and player is our constant mission, but more than that, I am always telling you to try your hand at homebrewing something. I've taken homebrew to an extreme, but I don't think that's necessary. I'm not saying to drop everything and make a world and a campaign to go in it right now. What matters is that you do something of your own, even on a smaller scale. 

There are two types of readers I'm imagining right now. Well, three. Type 1: Avid gamers who homebrew themselves and want new ideas about how to game even better. Type 2: Mystery visitors from all over the world who seem to visit this silly little site in droves, whose motives I cannot speculate about. Type 3: People who are module-runners who are looking to pick this argument apart. To Type 1, I say, hey, thanks for being here, and I hope you find something useful. To Type 2, I say, I don't know what all these supposed visits from the Netherlands and Brazil are about, but thanks for making me feel better. And to Type 3, I say, hey, you've read this far, so give me one last chance to change your mind.

We all know the thrill of making a tabletop game character. Imagining their personality, appearance, name, backstory, goals--it's a high unlike any other. All that creativity gets channeled into making something, and now your character is special to you. This is a nearly universal experience for tabletop games as far as I'm aware. Hold that feeling in your mind, the way it reaches you on a deep level, the way it drives you to be with that character or make a new one. Now imagine that anything in a gameworld could give you that feeling. Every NPC can give you that feeling if you try. Every detail about the homebrew world can fill you with joy. Every moment in the story can bring you the elation of creativity shared with others.

Let's put the fear to bed. Tabletop games are often and always should be safe spaces. We're all coming together to have fun, and that's a vulnerable place to be. If you're playing with friends, they are not going to be rude to you about trying to do something interesting. If it helps you, tell them in advance or right afterward that something is homebrew, and that will help them to understand that you've made something for them, and the expectation is that they treat you graciously for it. And some of you might be saying, but what if I don't like what I make? Then remake it, or scrap it and start over, or borrow inspiration to change it in a fun way. You don't have to use stuff you don't like. You can just make some things you enjoy, create an idea for a story around it, and let the players do their magic with it. It's not too good to be true--that's how all the campaigns I've run have worked, and they've been rewarding and successful. Dismiss the fear. It isn't real. Just try. 

I'm a creative person. This is the 258th article on this site. I've written and published a four-novel series about my favorite D&D character. I wrote a free book about Tarot interpretation. I've crocheted 50 stuffed animals, many of my own design. All of that happened in the last five years, while I also ran two incredible campaigns and played in another. I know from experience that making something is scary at first--I didn't try actually writing things seriously until I had almost finished my first degree in English. But what I learned quickly was that once you start, it becomes much easier. Creativity is intuitive, and tapping into it comes quickly for many of us. We all imagine and create differently, but all of us express ourselves somehow. The trick is just finding your voice. 

Finding your voice as a person--not just a GM, but a person--is deep, even spiritual work. I don't have an article for something as personal as that. But I can tell you that listening to yourself and knowing yourself are tools we can all benefit from. I use this in my creativity. If I am feeling an emotion, I can write about or in that emotion. If an idea is stuck in my head, I can find a way to work it into whatever I'm working on. (I once, in a fit of writer's block, wrote an article about tattoo art because I just just gotten a new tattoo I was really excited about.) Accept that your first few tries at creativity will be rough and unsatisfying--it's the returning to it that matters. But as you refine your voice, creativity becomes easier and more expansive--being imaginative is a skill that improves with use. If you want to be able to homebrew a campaign in a homebrew whole world, you have to start by imagining one guy or sketching a map or having a cool idea for a campaign. It comes slowly, but surely. 

So, Type 3. You're still here. The promise of improved gaming for the simple price of making an effort to try homebrewing something has kept you. I'm glad. Here's where we'll leave this, and this is for everyone, but especially my Type 3 friends out there: 

Your approach to gaming is valid and worth time and consideration. I've written modules here because I acknowledge they are a real and present part of gaming. I'm not saying you are wrong about anything. But I also know the reputation homebrew has and the way players talk to me with respect because of my world and stories. I know people have a glow in their voice when they talk about the things that the module didn't write, the exciting moments that happened because of the party's choices. I know the way my players get excited when they come to me with wild ideas about customizing their characters. We all see the ways that creativity makes gaming more exciting. I'm saying that DMing should cater to that. Keep your module but use it to structure your own story--that's still creativity. That still heightens the game. That still has you making something special for your players, which always matters. 

So don't fear trying to be creative. Make something bad and original, throw it away, and make something less bad and more original. Keep going until you have something good and original. Trust your players to play it in good faith and make it even more special. You only stand to gain by trying and will gain nothing by not trying. Tactically, that's a clear choice. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: friendship in my homebrew setting, symbols of power by culture, and a guide to natural resources in my homebrew setting. Until next time, happy gaming!


Monday, July 28, 2025

Visual Arts by Culture in My Homebrew Setting

Some details of my homebrew setting are things I've thought about plenty and never put down until I wrote the guide; others are things I've thought fleetingly of and expanded; some don't exist until I sit down to make them. This guide to the visual arts of Evanoch is of the last sort. I enjoy visual arts, but I'm not very informed in them like I am with literature, so I have to confess that I sorta imagined Evanine art galleries as having paintings and sculptures and stuff, but I never really considered what any of it would look like. I think it's times like these that we all benefit from remembering that there are endless things to write about in terms of worldbuilding, and not getting around to something obvious well into your GMing career isn't a bad thing--it all comes in time. So in that spirit, 60 articles about my homebrew setting down, this one before us now, and as many more to go as we like. (And remember: you don't need to write 60 articles about your world to know it well or be able to DM well.) Let's take a look at the visual arts of Evanoch, guided by culture. 

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Healing by Culture in My Homebrew Setting

In D&D and other tabletop games, healing is a big part of the game. This is for a number of reasons. Primarily, combat happens in tabletop games, and combat means injuries, and injuries necessitate healing. Secondarily, magic is considered a staple of D&D, and an extension of that means that healing magic would exist. And thirdly, since the beginning of D&D, healing has been a major part of the game. But medical care is more than a "Cure Wounds" spell, and I thought it would be interesting and valuable to investigate what healing is like between cultures in my homebrew setting. I know this idea is a little out there in terms of what I write for this site, but trust me--this guide will help to add some great details to healing in the game. So without further ado, let's get started by looking at the cultures in my homebrew setting and how they handle healing and medical care. 

Friday, July 18, 2025

The Value of an Epilogue

I've had this conversation with all the players in my Of Gods and Dragons campaign: tabletop game campaigns tend to end just after the finale, which is usually a resolution of whatever the "main quest" of the storyline is. There's a big fight or a dramatic reveal, and suddenly, the campaign is over. The player characters stop being played in many cases just as they truly accomplish something and are at the height of their power. Sure, you could play the same character in another campaign, but that's a relatively rare thing in my experience--typically, people roll up new characters for new campaigns. I know that the handful of times I've gotten to a player in tabletop games, it's rare that a campaign ends properly in the first place, so getting to the end of that long road and basically losing the character is very disappointing. Not to mention, the player characters now have renown and more power and probably compelling loot--they're at the best they've ever been, and they would surely do more incredible things given the chance, but that chance doesn't come. It's a problem in my view, and I have a solution. 

The epilogue is a literary idea. In novels, particularly older or more abstract work often has an epilogue, a brief way to explain what happens after the story is over, usually showing how the characters and the world changes after the events of the story. Perhaps it's because I come from a Literature background, but as I started DMing seriously, I started instituting game epilogues. My first serious campaign took place in Talon Gorge, and because the player characters divided into factions and fought a civil war, the effects on the city were massive. I recognized this and closed out our finale session by providing some details about what would happen to the city and some very brief notes about what I thought each player character might get up to in the future. It was a little gesture, and it was entirely my input, but it got me thinking about epilogues. 

My second serious campaign was Listen Check, a live broadcast and podcasted actual play D&D show. We played 60 sessions (a lengthy campaign by most standards), and I dedicated a final show to providing epilogue for the characters and world as well as answering behind-the-scenes questions about the campaign. It still wasn't very organized, but epilogues had become a regular part of my campaigns. I would later run the Eastweald campaign and the mystery campaign, both of which added new details to the epilogue format: the Eastweald was the first time I sat down and actually wrote out a detailed version of events that followed the campaign, and the mystery campaign was the first time I reached out to players to ask them what their characters would try to do after the campaign. Asking the players about character goals was a really big deal for me--I should have thought to do it sooner, but I'm glad I realized it at all. Check out the notes for the finale of the mystery campaign--it's long, it's detailed, and the player characters all got to have their own wishes for their characters honored. At this point, I felt like I had cracked it. 

Enter the Of Gods and Dragons campaign. The problem I described up top--the player characters are at the height of their power and have agendas, so what do they do?--is triply true in Of Gods and Dragons. They completed their quest (dealing with the rift in the barrier between the mundane and gods' realms), they all became dragons, they're all at or above level 20 now, and they all have clear ideas about what they mean to do with their power. If I had simply said, "Okay, campaign's over; it's been fun!" then it would have ignored the herd of elephants in the room--Brokk, Aurora, and Lethanin are all major players in my world, and they obviously have plans which they have the power to execute. To end the campaign at that point would be insane, irresponsible, and insensitive to the players. I needed something bigger. 

This cues another problem. In my world, dragons are functionally immortal unless slain. Logically, killing a dragon would be only easy for a god or a dragon, and the party saw to it that the gods are safely in their realm, while all remaining dragons are good-aligned. From my position as DM, there is no reason to hinder their actions, and further, immortality really complicates an epilogue--is there a true ending to their story in sight? I didn't think so, so I developed a new take on epilogues just for this campaign: a continuing solo roleplaying session in which each player independently guides their character through a full 100 years of epilogue before a final send-off session. 

That's right, no typo--we're playing out a full century of epilogue for this campaign. I use the present tense because I'm still in the process of playing all this game time out. Brokk and Aurora's players will end up taking four full sessions (three hours each) to cover 100 years of, and Lethanin will end up with two longer sessions (over four hours). If you're doing the math, yes, that means 12+12+8=32 hours on epilogue alone. That's a radical thing, and I'm not arguing that every campaign needs this much attention to the epilogue. But the principle of it is clear, and I want to do a little thought experiment to explain why this fringe case of massive epilogue proportions teaches us all something. 

Imagine you are to have your skin cut. Obviously, a small cut on a surface that won't hurt much is preferable, and a massive cut on a sensitive area could kill. But do all kinds of cuts hurt? Absolutely. Someone who's had a nasty papercut can attest that even though it's far from deadly and ultimately will just sting for a while and heal without a thought, it does still hurt enough to want to avoid. What I'm driving at is this: Of Gods and Dragons is like the big, deadly cut, and an average combat-focused campaign is like a little papercut. They don't need the same medical treatment (the amount of epilogue given), but both do hurt (they both still benefit from an epilogue in the first place). This is an imperfect metaphor, but the point is simply that just because you don't need 100 years of epilogue doesn't mean you don't need an epilogue at all. 

I've spoken about my DMing career in terms of epilogues--I imagine most readers of this article are DMs, and I've made the case for a DM's perspective. Let me now switch to the perspective of a player. In my life as a D&D player, I've had two characters who truly satisfied me as a player: Amund Zigor (Zig to his friends), a morally troubled guard and cleric of St. Cuthbert, and Daisy Bloom (or Heather, Delia, Penelope, Gilbert, or Asp, depending on how you knew her), a reformed con artist and cleric of Idunna (a homebrew deity of spring my best friend developed for his setting). Let's talk about how epilogues impacted my experience of these characters. 

Zig I played for a few years. He began as a hard alcoholic who was a corrupt guard using his power to torture and murder people. The party hated him. He was mostly just good at combat. As the campaign progressed, he opened up more and more to the restorative justice model of St. Cuthbert, becoming a gentler, more moral, and better person. By the time I had to leave the campaign due to a cross-country move, Zig was the party leader, beloved by all, and had become the moral heart of the campaign. Because the campaign carried on, Zig didn't get a proper epilogue per se, but my DM went way out of their way to produce a fairly long audio clip of my character being divinely exonerated and empowered, and that was basically my last session with the group. It was a send-off of sorts, and it meant a lot (and still does--it was very personal and impressive). 

Then I played Daisy, who began as Asp, the con artist. I wrote her backstory extensively (it makes up the first two novels in the series I wrote about her), and playing her was the most dreamlike, amazing experience. Unfortunately, like many campaigns, this one was cut just short of finishing due to scheduling issues, and so the DM decided to tell the rest of the story via epilogue, which included carrying out characters up to several years after the campaign. It was through this epilogue that Daisy ended up in Capital City, where she's made her home in the final book in the series (book three is the campaign itself). I was perhaps a bit miffed by not getting to decide where Daisy went next, but looking back, getting the epilogue gave me direction in writing what did happen next. 

I bring these examples up because I have a dozen other characters who never really got an epilogue at all. I played a character in Don't Rest Your Head for for over two years, and the campaign just kinda fell apart. My beloved character was then a source of wild stories about tabletop games, but Stig, my character, was just gone. The same happened with other characters, too--games fall apart regularly, and often, there is very little to be done about it. In cases like this, an epilogue can salvage an unsatisfying experience, at least in part. But also, my two very favorite characters I've ever gotten to play, separated by hundreds of miles and over a decade in terms of my experience, both got epilogues of sorts. I don't think that's a coincidence--I think it's cause and effect. In a long career of tabletop gaming, the characters that stand out are indeed the ones I put the most effort into and made the most personal, but I do that a lot--the epilogue seems to be a decisive factor here. 

So perhaps you agree--epilogues are a good thing. But how do you go about making one? I follow a few steps to make mine, and part of it involves taking good notes--start there. When a campaign wraps up, I go back over my notes and pick out any names of characters worth writing about--obviously the player characters, but also major NPCs, NPCs who served an important role in the plot (even if only briefly), and beloved minor NPCs. Once you have a list that feels pretty complete, it's time to start writing, and what we're going for is something that will be satisfying. Let's use the mystery campaign epilogue as an example:

The epilogue begins with the player characters: Beor, Ais, and Montana. You'll note each one gets a full paragraph. It's worth noting that I took what the players wanted (Montana wanted to return home and be a changed man), and then added something (Montana's wife deciding to join him on the road). Each one has just a touch of struggle to show that everything isn't just magically perfect after the campaign (Beor continuing to fight the battle for the city), but also gave a sweet touch to each one so that the happiness of the epilogue is clear (Ais' actions making the city better in unexpected ways). The goal is to make your players feel that their character continues living, but in a way that honors them and their actions (a happy ending for characters who fight for good, a fitting end for villainous characters, or whatever would be satisfying to the player). I want to add that satisfying does not mean that the player gets everything they could ever want--that's actually a pretty unsatisfying ending, which I can say as someone who's gotten it. Continuing on as a better version of themselves with real effects from their actions is the best possible outcome. 

Then we move to major NPCs, like in this case, Riviel Jasimir (the villain of the campaign), Lyssbetonk Cogswagon (an inventor central to the mystery), and Tajana (the assassin the group was chasing). It's worth noting that I added a couple more minor positive NPCs first in the list to preserve the positive momentum of the party before getting into the just desserts of the villains and the second life of the would-be victim. With villains, a punishment that would embarrass them is my favorite (Jasimir dying as an unknown random person, Tajana taken by random chance as was her style of violence); with close allies, you want to leave them greatly improved (kind of a turning point moment given by the party), hence Cogswagon's turn to humanitarian inventing rather than purely theoretical. The goal is to make the NPCs feel the actions of the player characters, so Jasimir and Tajana, who the party hated, needed to meet bad ends, while Cogswagon, who the party loved, needed to get a happier ending. 

Then we get into minor NPCs. Some of these are just people who helped out in a session or two (Baldwin Weams, Dulk Sart, Quarsa Fielt) or more humorous characters who the party latched onto (Derek the Dandelion, Carl Sjunior, Nyrill Genellon). But they were crucial parts of the campaign, either as sources of evidence of critical help, and bringing them up in the epilogue makes every player go, "Oh yeah! The talking dandelion who told us about the murder suspect! I'm glad he got such a nice ending." It allows your players to reminisce about good times in the campaign, remembering things that had been basically lost to your session notes. 

And that's another strength of the epilogue--it lets your party reflect on everything. The mystery campaign epilogue is pretty long, and that's in part because the party did so much. They met loads of people and did incredible things, and we all know from experience that details get forgotten quickly in tabletop games. There's just too many details to keep in mind all at once. So the epilogue (from those good notes you've kept) will let you go back, fondly recall them yourself, and then make something that will allow your party to reminisce and get some closure on the campaign. 

Closure, at the end of the day, might be the most important thing. We make these characters, inhabit their minds, speak and act through them, share an emotionally vulnerable space at the table with them, and in some ways, truly live as them. When our time with a character ends, we need closure to be able to leave that massive emotional experience behind. I know that saying goodbye to Zig and Daisy was very hard, even with the epilogues given to them, and it was even harder to lose characters without it. It was like losing a piece of myself. I needed closure. 

You can give your players that closure, and it's especially necessary if your campaign ends early. Creating an epilogue takes me about as long as preparing for a normal session, so it's really not a huge undertaking to add to a campaign. Distributing it to your players is easy and can be fun--an in-person or online session can be a great place to go over the epilogue together and share thoughts and memories from the campaign. Typing up your epilogue can also allow you to distribute your epilogue digitally--my DM who let me run Daisy sent out a long document on Discord to all of us players. There's really no more to the process--the art is crafting satisfying endings. I must say again--ask your players for a direction to take their epilogue in. They're likely to give you a few ideas that you can work broadly with. I promise it's a more satisfying way for the process to go, and players are always delighted to discover how their intention translates into an effect in the gameworld. 

My final word: epilogues evolved naturally for me. They felt necessary in the Talon Gorge campaign, and I went with it. I kept at it, refining and expanding. Today, I'm looking forward to the final three sessions of my century-long epilogue for Of Gods and Dragons, and I have to say--I'm very satisfied so far. I don't want to spoil too much before the epilogues drop here on Over the DM's Shoulder, but I will say that there are some massive surprises already in place with surely more to come. To return to the first thought in this article, why stop when your player characters are at the top of their game? Why send your players away without closure, with lost opportunity to enjoy the campaign together one more time, with no say in what the rest of their character's life will be like? You don't have to. Try making an epilogue. The worst that will happen is that it won't be what you hoped, and you can either abandon it or try again with new understanding. But as a longtime GM, I promise you that you can make an epilogue work, and the results will be more than worth it. 

That's all for now. Coming soon: contributions to healing in my homebrew setting, the visual arts in my homebrew setting, and why it's better to make something unique and bad than copied and good. Until next time, happy gaming!