Dungeons & Dragons Online

How I accidentally summoned a god with a magical die and a bag of holding.

Content of the article: "How I accidentally summoned a god with a magical die and a bag of holding."

So, for reference, this was a long-running campaign that started as Out of the Abyss and spiraled off into some homebrew. My character was a Changeling Celestial-Draconic Sorcerer (Backstory) who never had any Dragons in his family, and always wondered who his power came from.

Tiamat had escaped to the material plane, with intent to conquer it after her seal in avernus was broken (we lost a mcguffin to some devils, it was basically a magical skeleton key that broke any magical seal). The end of the battle was near, since it was just me and the cleric. Both our paladins were taken out, and the barb was rolling death saves. I knew I had to do something. So, I pulled out my Die of Possibilities and rolled. This was a high-level magic item that was our sub-in for a deck of many things because none of us had cards on us. The item let me roll a designated D20 (personally it was a green die with golden accents) and based on the result something would happen corresponding to the value of it. A Nat One might have an Archdevil summoned to me, while a Nat Twenty might give me an instant level up. The result was less than what I needed. A 16, which materialized a bag of holding, filled with platinum pieces. This was a fight against Tiamat, who’d just kill me after I gave it to her, and if I didn’t, she’d kill me then steal it. So, I did what any sane person would do when face with such a task. I got on my knees, held the bag to the air, and shouted to the sky. “If there are any who watch me, or my friends, or my allies, I offer this bag to save them. I care not what would happen to me, just bring them back from deaths door. I’ve nothing but them, and I know I have done horrible things. Burning down that village, stealing from that dragon’s hoard, but I wish not but my friends’ safety.” The table was silent a moment. The party had known, of course, that my character’s younger years weren’t the greatest, that I’d forsaken my family, and decided they were the new ones. Even the ever-talkative barbarian was silent. The thing that first broke the stunned silence was the ever so quiet clattering of dice, and the DM looking at my character sheet over the screen. “You look up to see a dragon, massive, as large as Tiamat. Shimmering silver-white scales coat their body and their aura is awe inspiring.” The DM said. “‘Thank you, my child. But you needn’t sacrifice all of this. Keep half, and the bag, it will be the start of your hoard.’ It says, in a voice that demands respect. ‘Now, let me deal with her for you.’” At this point, the whole table is confused, until the DM says, “Everyone who’s alive, roll history or religion.” The cleric and I roll, with him getting a twenty-something. “, you recognize the figure as Bahumat, god of good dragons. , you also recognize him from your studies of Draconic history.” Both his and my eyes widen. “I bow.” The cleric says. “Even if he isn’t my god, that doesn’t mean I don’t respect him.” “I as well.” “In a flash, the battle has ended. One moment, Bahumat turns toward Tiamat, the next, a pile of dust is in her place. Bahumat returns to you, and his eyes pierce through you. He utters words in Draconic, that roughly translate to ‘You Will now be a true child of mine.’ You feel yourself change, further than what you can do on your own. The patches of skin that are always rough and hard expand and become scales across your body. You feel your form shift to quadrupedal, and the wings you’ve summoned so many times are forced out of you. Your form grows many times it’s normal size, and a tail shoots out of your tailbone, long and strong. You now take the form of an adult Steel Dragon. ‘Now go, Young One, and build your lair, and heal your friends. You are one of my chosen, make it count.’” After that, I was able to help the party. That badass moment was the last fight of the campaign. In the epilogue, my character ended up constantly learning new things, running through towns and continuing my adventures. I ended up gaining a bunch of levels in different classes, living every life to the fullest with Clone, and helped adventurers for the rest of time, a bastion of creativity and selflessness. Every campaign I’ve run since then, I’ve somehow made reference to the chosen boy, Dra, the one who’d forever guard the world. He’s still working on surpassing that 9th level spell limit, but once he does, he’s making himself a god, if only to give his thanks to the one who gave him all his power.

Read:  Party Turns a Complete Disaster into Opportunity

Source: reddit.com

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