I consistently have players looting conquered foes, random strangers, ruined villages, etc.. And the truth is I almost NEVER know what they’re going to find. Usually I just spout some nonsense at the top of my head and it often ends up being dull, leaving my players less likely to look for items while adventuring in the future. I created this table to help give me a guideline for random loot, and it lets players feel lucky when they roll high and find something unexpected.
(Click Keep Reading below the image for more specific information and a text version of the chart at the bottom)
Everyone, please read through the episodes! Leave comments (and compliments!) directly on the google doc or submit comments to @lotrewrite. Proofread edits, suggested edits to content, recommendations about keeping characterizations and arcs consistent, title suggestions, anything! and don’t forget to leave comments on the sections you find particularly good!
Writers: feel free to keep editing as you start getting comments!
Simon and I are sitting in a pew and waiting for the world’s trashiest wedding to start, but he can’t sit still. I’ve tried asking him what was
wrong, but he’s not talking. Which means I have nothing to do except look at the familiar faces of every other mage in attendance.
They invited the entire magical community, which must have cost a
fortune, and the wedding is an aesthetic mess. Its so atrocious that
I feel embarrassed to even be associated with it.
person near me went to Watford. I only vaguely recall the couple who
is getting married, but they remembered me well enough to send an
invitation. Baz’s father said that this is a society event, and I
decided to attend to eat some free cake.
I want to leave,
but I promised myself I would stay.
I can’t sit still.
Why hasn’t it started yet?
I feel the hum of
everyone’s magic around me, and its a constant reminder that I’m not
one of them. Not really. Do they know I don’t have magic anymore?
Would they take back my invite if they knew?
Baz sits next to
me, whispering critiques in my ear, but his tone suggests that he’s
The red wings on
my back feel like a neon sign. I left them exposed because I wanted
to attend as myself – a Normal, with a boyfriend, wings, and a
tail. It was easy to be brave before I came here, but I don’t feel
brave anymore. I feel like an impostor. I feel like I’m lying. I’m not magic, and I’m not part of this community.
“I could have
picked better flowers while walking here, and it’s January.”
I could ask Baz to
spell my wings invisible; he’s become pretty good at the spell.
“There’s too many balloons. If you’re older than five, you’re not allowed
No, I told myself
I would come here as myself. Invisible wings wont change anything. I can do this.
wedding will be much better than this,” Baz mutters.
Fuck. Two lovely
blue eyes now gape at me in horror.
Dating Simon for a
year has been great. Charmed. A year of bliss that I wouldn’t trade
for anything. Except that it was easier to keep my mouth shut a year
ago. I’m eight years ahead of him with my crazy thoughts.
I gather the last
shreds of my dignity and sneer. “We wouldn’t marry anytime soon,
His eyes grow
“You have a time
table?” he asks, and I drop the sneer because I have absolutely no
Baz slumps in the
pew and I strain to hear him say, “Well, you don’t have to agree to
it, of course.”
I’m surprised that
someone would think about marrying me, especially Baz, who knows how
much of me is missing. I really want to know what is in his head.
“Tell me about
our wedding,” I say, matching his posture to be on his level.
He quiet for a
long while. Sometimes Baz takes awhile to plan what he wants to say,
but other times he closes up completely. I don’t know which type of
silence he’s having now.
I wish I knew a
teleportation spell. Or time travel. Can embarrassment kill vampires? Simon is being quiet. so I can’t change the topic. I have to say something.
I say, “We’d
have cherry scones, of course.”
Simon laughs, a
watery exhale. When I look at him, I see tears in his eyes. Those
tears keep me talking.
“The ceremony would be at night and in the winter, and preferably it’s snowing. To
represent our names.”
“Not with the
suits I have in mind.” I tell him about these truly be spectacular
suits I found online, and some details that Trixie told me about the
uses of pixie magic in such events. I can’t believe he’s listening to my insane ideas. I’m now aware that I’ve said far too much and
abruptly shut my mouth.
There’s a beat of
silence. Enough of a pause to reconsider teleportation spells.
Simon breaks it by
gently asking, “You’re being real? You actually want to marry me?”
He bites his lips,
fidgety and shy, and I’d marry him now if this room wasn’t so
horrendous. “I’m fond of you, Snow.”
“But marriage. I’d be part of your family. You dad would be my father in law…”
I’m reminded that
I don’t even know Simon’s birthday, let alone who he is related to.
He was adopted by The Mage but still lived in homes. Marriage means a lot to Simon. I tell him, “I’d
do all that with you, if you wanted.”
Music starts to
play, and the bridal party queues down the aisle. Their dresses are more horrendous than I imagined.
Simon whispers, “Are
“Crowley, no. I’d get you a ring. Snow, when I propose, you’d know it was
happening. You wouldn’t have to ask.”
I’m sharing a sleeping bag with Snow right now, so I should be happy. This
was my dream, right? But Snow never thinks about anything, or
notices anything, or cares about anything, and… he’s dumb. I’ve had
a crush on him for two years now, and I should give up on it
already. It’s been so long—for two whole years I’ve been in love
with stupid Simon Snow.
Today started out easily enough. Every boy in Year Two hiked deep
into the forest for a school sponsored camping trip (to learn about
how Normals live). By the time we arrived, Snow discovered that his
sleeping bag was missing (I set it on fire). I pointed out that the
path back to school was ominously trailed with blood (a trick
performed me, the vampire). I was waiting for someone to point out
the obvious (that Simon should share a sleeping bag with me, his
roommate of two years), but Snow started furnishing a bed from
fallen leaves, refusing any magical help from Ebb, our chaperon.
The leaf pile was almost as long as Simon’s body when I walked over
to torment him.
“Sleeping on the ground tonight, Snow? Just like you do in your
foster homes?” His fist balled up, predictably, but I was surprised
to see a glimmer of hurt in his expression.
“Why is there blood along the trail, Baz? I know that was you that
did that; you’re a vampire. Are you leaving a path for yourself? Scared you
wont find your way home?”
“Watford isn’t home, Snow. You’d know that if you actually
had one.” I didn’t received the expected punch, instead what I got
was more like an attack from an animal. Snow jumped at me with the
full force of his body, his hands landing around my throat and
tackling me to the ground.
Simon was on top of me, touching me, and, sure, trying to kill
me, but I did have his full attention. His blue eyes were
vibrant against the splotchy red on his cheeks, and when a bead of
sweat dripped from his forehead to mine, I smiled. His hands
continued to squeeze my neck. I don’t know if its possible kill a
vampire like this, but I was feeling patient enough to find out.
I never did, though, because a few moments later Ebb used strike a
pose to freeze and separate us.
Simon stayed glued to Ebb’s side the rest of the day, but I don’t
think that she spelled him to. I think he just likes the goat lady. When she caught me staring at Snow, she winked.
Eventually, night fell and the air turned cool, even though we had a
huge fire roaring. After roasting marshmallows, every fell asleep
except for Simon and me. I couldn’t sleep because my vampire hearing
was catching all of the noises of the forest, and the loudest noise
of all was Simon’s chattering teeth.
He was less than a meter away from me, laying on his piles of leaves.
Ebb had offered to make a sleeping bag, but Simon stubbornly refused
and told her that sleeping bags are for posh boys who are frightened
of camping. Then he tripped me and I almost fell into the fire. That
made me so angry that I spent the rest of the day thinking of ways to
get him back, but when I heard how cold he was, I started to feel
sorry for everything we’d done to each other all day. I’d never
seen Simon cold before. Ever.
It was easy to roll over and close the space between us. When I was
next to him, I unzipped my sleeping bag and told him to get in. We
were both little enough that two could fit inside.
He said, “Did you put ants in your bag?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Are you going to, if I get in? Or do anything else weird?”
“Crowley, no. I’m being nice, Snow. Hasn’t anyone ever been nice to
you before?” I was embarrassed, and it made me angry, so I started
to move away when his hand grabbed my sleeping bag.
“Fine,” he sighed, and crawled in next to me. Our heads were on
opposite ends of the same pillow, and I used the opportunity to count
the moles on his face.
“Why are you such a jerk?”
“Because I…” Simon raised his eyebrows, silently telling me to
give him an answer. The night was making me feel brave. “If I tell
you, you have to swear not to laugh.”
“I swear it.”
“Shake on it, like a gentleman.” There’s a small amount of space
between us in this sleeping bag, and our hands found each others’
with ease. We shook twice, and then he let go.
“Just tell me, Baz.”
I blurted it out before I could think about it too hard. “I like
“As in… You like like me?”
Snow looked angry. “You’re kidding. I knew you wouldn’t tell me
anything. Piss off, Baz.”
With that, he turned his back to me and fell asleep within seconds.
I’ve laid here fuming for what might be hours. We’re sharing a
sleeping bag, so I should be happy. That’s all I wanted when we
started this camping trip. But I can’t believe that I just bore my
soul to Simon stupid Snow, and he didn’t even believe me. He’s
so oblivious, and dumb, and clueless, and I know he’s never going to
like me back. And he surely will never like like me back.
I like him. And I like like him. And I think I love him. And I
know I hate him. I wish I could just get over these hopeless stupid feelings I
have for this stupid boy.
When Simon rolls over, I first feel his breath on my neck, but then I
feel an arm wrapped around my middle, pulling my body closer to his.
It’s almost like he’s hugging me from behind, but it feels like more
than that because his feet are intertwined with mine.
I really want to stay awake and memorize every second of this moment,
but being held by Simon is so comforting that I’m drifting off to
sleep only seconds later.
When Ebb wakes us up in the morning, Simon is still holding me. He’s
blushing deep red when he flings himself out of the sleeping bag. Ebb
just stands there and winks at me, humming something dumb that sounds
like a love song.