Dust & Dangers [Private]

[Professor W B Copperfield]

"Alright, you all have your characters?" Copperfield asked from behind his DM screen, sipping coffee.

Copperfield, in his own estimations, was somewhere between an alright and great teacher. He could present problems, explain how to solve in simple terms, produce evidence of his pupil's learning and advancing, and oversee that growth. It was an awesome experience, seeing someone learn and grow under his tutelage. Like what being a parent would be like, he assumed. One day he might become a real parent, if he was lucky. He loved everything about it.

Except, well, all the stuff that doesn't occur in the classroom. Paperwork. Meetings. Grading tests. Creating a curriculum for an entire year. Who needs to do that, anyway? Why don't they be more flexible and cater to the needs of the class? Sure the administration wants to see where you're headed towards and see that you are doing your job, but they should put more trust in their teachers!

Copperfield had gotten into enough arguments with his superiors, namely Professor Honeydew and the Headmaster, about his conduct. After a long internal debate, Copperfield was granted an option. More freedom, however he had to also host an extracurricular activity.

Other teachers were already hosting these, such as various sports, an art club, mixed martial arts, and others. Copperfield first thought he could host a detective club, learning about tracking and gaining clues and asking questions, but he was told that he did that enough in his own classes as it was, and that was already taken. Copperfield's capitalist push for competition in the marketplace of ideas was rejected. He was out of luck. The administration suggested taking over for the volleyball team coach, but one look from Vera about coaching a bunch of legal aged young women in spandex, and he knew he had to pass that up. With all options out of the way, he was headed for having to coach... the thought made him want to vomit from boredom. Baseball.

Until he was on his way to pick up a Dust order, he passed by a game store. Board games and Huntsman Trading Cards lined the shelves, and... and DICE! He knew what he could do for a club.

"Go ahead and introduce yourselves, your characters I mean, as you all enter into the town of Drumchapel after a long day of adventuring together." Copperfield set down his mug. "The town is known for it's innovation in the sciences along with the breadth of churches and temples here, making it quite the religious center of arts and... crafts, or something like that. In the center stands tall a massive clock tower." He picked his mug back up and sipped hungrily.

[Aurum Dasheng]

Aurum sat leaned back in his chair, long legs stretched out under the table and arms spread out behind him as he flexed and stretched. The chair creaked faintly beneath him—he was easily too tall for the standard desks, but he wore that discomfort like a badge of honor. A grin tugged at the edge of his mouth, the kind that made it seem like he’d already won some private, unspoken contest before the first dice had even touched the table.

In front of him, his character sheet was already laid out—carefully unrolled and smoothed flat. Unlike the scattered or half-crumpled ones around the room, his was precise, well-kept. Handwritten in strong, confident pen strokes with the occasional brushstroke embellishment curling around the borders. The paper was thick, reinforced at the corners with faint traces of Dust-sealant, and laminated just enough to resist the wear of use and travel. A peach blossom was sketched neatly in one corner, its petals stylized like wind-carved leaves. He didn’t say anything about it.

Then, casually, without fanfare, he reached under the desk and produced three stacked steamer baskets, still warm to the touch. As he set them down with a soft thump, a rich wave of aroma—sweet peach glaze and spiced pork—rolled across the table. Several heads turned. A few stomachs grumbled.

“I brought snacks,” Aurum said, shrugging one shoulder as he cracked open the top basket, letting the steam roll upward like a curtain rising before a play. “Didn’t want us going into battle on an empty stomach.”

With one hand, he plucked a bun from the top and leaned forward slightly, finally focusing in on the moment as Copperfield’s voice wrapped up the scene. His gaze shifted toward his sheet, his tone mellowing.

“Right. My guy’s name is Lian Hu. He’s a Monk. Well, mostly. Kinda. Bit of a Druid too.”

The usual lazy smirk faded slightly, replaced by a more thoughtful edge in his voice—still relaxed, but sharper in its detail.

“He’s from the far eastern forests, real quiet mountainside temple type. The kind of place where even the birds sound like they’re meditating. Lian grew up under a master who believed you can’t really fight for something unless you know how to heal it. So he trained in both—martial forms and the natural arts.”

Aurum leaned further forward now, golden eyes catching the light, glinting with that familiar blend of mischief and clarity.

“He doesn’t wear armor. Doesn’t need it. Got this simple quarterstaff he carved himself from a tree that got struck by lightning during a lunar eclipse or something poetic like that. Sometimes it grows flowers, sometimes it sprouts thorns—depends on his mood. He fights with his fists and feet, but more often than not, he’ll redirect a punch before he throws one. Unless you really deserve it. He really hates being the center of attention and would rather let others talk.”

He tapped the name on the top of the sheet with one calloused knuckle.

“Circle of the Moon, too. So yeah—he can be a bear. Or a bird. Or a bear-bird if you catch him after a few drinks.”

Aurum smirked again.

“But he’s not just some punchy animal guy. He believes the body’s sacred—same way nature is. Every movement is meditation. Every fight’s a prayer. He’s the type who’ll knock you flat, then sit down beside you with a cup of tea and talk about where your balance went wrong.”

He glanced around the room, eyebrow raised, the corner of his lip curling again.

“Also, his hair’s immaculate. Hasn’t had a bad hair day since his fifth birthday.”

With that, he tore off another bite of the bun in his hand, chewed thoughtfully, then nodded once toward Copperfield.

“Anyways Teach, I think I did it right. That’s Lian Hu. Let’s see what this clock tower town’s got waiting.”

[Ela Motley]

Ela joined the table just as Professor Copperfield had finished his preparation, the room they had taken up at the Academy, some mostly unused board game clubroom, was cozy enough and as such Ela had herself brought some snacks, she had baked some rolls in the shape of various dice, the whole procedure was a bit of a pain, but Ela did very much like the result, it was cute and delicious, filled with various things like jam, chocolate cream or peanut butter depending on the die, she also placed down a large pot, filled with coffee for herself and the professor, while offering a simple can of hot chocolate to anyone else who may want a warm beverage while they played this little game.

Ela was not wholly familiar with Dust and Dangers, she preferred her games in a virtual format, but she did know about rpgs and loved playing those, so this should not be much harder.
She had laid down her scroll, having gotten Lin to find her a character sheet in virtual document form as this was a tad easier to maintain, not needing constant pencil edits to change around...which Ela did a lot, if she had stuck to a pen and paper sheet it would have been a whole mess of its own, but ultimately Ela did settle on a character, listening intently as Aurum gave his introduction a smile on her face happy that one other player had put as much thought into their character as she did.

"A clock tower, such a beautiful machination of machinery, a steady and reliable reminder of the unceasing march toward the inevitable."
Ela says, putting on her best gravely voice, as she held her own character sheet.
"Comes a voice from the left of Lian Hu, a small hunched figure stands there, an elderly elven woman, pale skin and even paler hair tied neatly into a bun, a black rose hair pin decorating her brow, a lithe body dressed in dark gray medium elven mail, bark like patterns etched into the metal, as she props herself up on what looks like an elaborate cane, weaved from multiple branches and type of wood, yet a metal contraption lies hidden within, from under the gnarled wood a perceptive eye can make out the distinct glint of a sharpened blade, she's holding a rose she picked from the roadside, smelling it before it withers in her hands."
Ela tells with a smile, which falters as she then internally facepalms.
"Her name is uhm Tysta Morte by the way, she's a high elf grave cleric...so that's nice yes."
Ela sighs, of course she had to mess that last part up, she had notes prepared for this.

[Brigid Laghairt]

Brigid had been looking forward to this all week. She'd even brought enough snacks for everyone to eat their fill, which of course meant she was showing tremendous restraint with her infamously bottomless appetite. Mostly.... she was reaching for a bag of chips, among the veritable feast of junk food she'd brought, just as Copperfield finished his opening spiel and the others began introducing their characters. She listened carefully, trying to eat as quietly as possible, which was something she was actually really good at despite her gluttony. She looked over the character sheet displayed on the screen of her Scroll, having, like Ela, gotten help making a digital version from a friend rather than trying to keep track of a piece of paper all week. This way seemed.... much more fireproof.

She swallowed at the end of Ela's introduction and grinned. This was the perfect moment for her to introduce the character she'd spent all week slaving over, as finely crafted as any blade she'd ever forged. She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, steeling her nerves. When her eyes opened, she began to speak, her voice more gentle and feminine than the usual rough, tomboyish attitude she normally had. Most importantly, she had a distinctly middle Sanus desert dweller accent, which no one in this room would have ever heard her use before, but it sounded perfectly natural.

"You're welcome to keep your symbolism, darlin'. I'm more interested in what makes things tick," she said, giving Ela a toothy grin. "Pun intended."

She cleared her throat, dropping the accent and returning to her normal voice. "The speaker's voice comes from below, the source being a short creature that barely comes up to Tysta's knee. Standing on two scaly digitigrade legs is a red-scaled kobold with piercing green eyes, her toned stature belying her years of hard work as a craftswoman. She wears a pair of black shorts and a white button-up shirt under a brown leather vest reinforced with a metal breast-plate. Her hands are covered by a pair of brown leather gloves fortified with metal bracers On her waist she wears a leather belt with an ornate buckle and a fine leather holster at her right hip, which holds a finely polished black-steel revolver with gold embellishments. She wears a black leather duster over that, cut to fit her size and so that her tail can comfortably stick out of the back. The base of her tail has a quartet of pouches that are placed so that she could easily reach them by reaching behind herself, as well as a larger satchel on her left hip, a bag of holding full of tools, scrap, and other assorted items. Over the coat she wears a bandoleer slotted with rifle bullets, and strapped to her back is the repeating rifle they go to, cut down slightly to suit her size. Finally she wears a crimson scarf wrapped around her neck that blows with the wind, and a curve-brimmed hat that keeps the sun off of her eyes."

Brigid needed to catch her breath after such a long-winded description. "You know her as Tala the Red Lightning, a Artificer Armorer and notorious gunslinger known for her quick trigger finger and skill as a smith and engineer." When she was finished she sat back with a grin and resumed eating, clearly quite proud of herself.

[Chain Dupp]

Chain's turn to introduce his character was interrupted by the door opening as a clearly confused delivery girl scanned the room. Seeing Chain's wave, she carried a stack of pizza boxes and paper plates over to him, her grateful smile turning to a genuine one when he motioned for her to keep the change. "Thanks," he said happily as he cracked the top box and served himself a pair of hot slices. "I ordered delivery for us," he explained, holding up the boxes. "There should be something for everyone in here," he said before setting the stack on the corner of the table where it wouldn't get in the way. He took a big bite of pizza, then wiped his hands on a napkin as he turned back to Copperfield to introduce his character for this campaign.

"The last member of our merry band is a Tabaxi woman wearing a black trenchcoat overed in pockets and belts. Her lavender hair is cinched back into a tight ponytail to keep it out of her face, and she wears a perpetual half-smirk, like she's always thinking of joke that no one else understands. As we enter town, her walk turns into more of a sashay and she stretches languidly." Affecting a deep, velvety voice, he spoke in character: "Cayde finds herself hoping for a hot bath and a cold drink." He sat back in his chair. "She's a Tactician Fighter and Soulknife Rogue."

[Professor W B Copperfield]

Copperfield was quiet as everyone introduced their characters. He had things he wanted to say, but his mouth was occupied being stuff with all the snacks and food everyone had brought. Normally it was a challenge to get one person to bring snacks, and it seems he had hit the jackpot. "Anyone who brings snacks gets Inspiration, by the way." He noted through a mouthful of steamed pork bun. These were so good~ And as the DM, he didn't get a lot of chances to eat anyway. Better load up now while it was available. And free to boot.

"Alright, you all enter town and look around, wondering what you want to do next. The sun is setting, you've been on the road a while, and you certainly want to take a load off. The cobblestone streets are clean and well set infront of a tavern you can clearly see to your right, called the Sleepy Sheepy. People bustle from here to there with carts and boxes and children as they rush to finish up the day.

"Bong! Bong! Bong!" Copperfield imitated the noise of a large ringing bell. "The Clocktower strikes 8pm on this summer evening. Everyone, the people infront of you and the parents and the children, everyone... stops. They freeze, as the bell chimes on. Bong! Bong! Bong! Eight chimes total. And then a heartbeat later, they all turn. Buildings they had just come out of get re-entered, people rush to get off the streets, some ducking into the tavern but most seem to run for home. In a matter of moments, you are left alone on the street. Only sound is your breathing, the wind, and the echoes of the chimes of the Clocktower Bell."

"What do you do?"

[Brigid Laghairt]

"Okay..... did anyone else think that was weird?" Brigid asked, using the voice of her character to indicate that she was speaking as Tala. "Tala reaches for her holstered revolver cautiously while stepping behind Lian Hu as if she expects trouble." Brigid glanced at Aurum, waiting to see what his reaction would be.

[Aurum Dasheng]

Aurum had been quiet during the others’ introductions—too quiet for someone with his usual energy. He listened closely, nodding in appreciation as Ela committed to her voice, offering a soft “Nice one” when she slipped up, and letting out a low, impressed whistle when Brigid switched into that flawless desert-dweller accent. He even offered a slow clap when Chain summoned pizza like some modern-day wizard. His grin never left his face, but there was a spark of pride in his eyes—this club was already better than half the formal classes he’d sat through.

And then the game began.

The chimes rang out, and Copperfield painted the scene with the voice of someone who’d been waiting all week to unnerve his players. The sun setting, the people freezing, the sudden eerie stillness. It was good. Real good.

Aurum stayed leaned back in his chair at first, but as Brigid-as-Tala stepped behind his character, the shift in him was subtle and complete.

His posture changed. His voice softened.

⸻

Lian Hu did not draw a weapon. He did not flinch. As the others bristled and looked to the shadows, he simply stood there in the center of the now-empty street, the breeze catching the edges of his robe.

He closed his eyes.

“The wind is wrong,” he murmured, almost too quietly to hear.

Then his eyes opened again—half-lidded, calm, but alert.

“You’re wise to be cautious, Tala,” he said, tilting his head slightly toward the kobold without turning. “But fear strikes first, and that makes us easier to hit.”

He stepped forward slowly, the butt of his quarterstaff softly tapping the cobblestone beneath his feet as he moved into the center of the square. He didn’t lower himself into a stance—not yet. But his body shifted, as if expecting the world to strike from any direction.

His gaze lifted to the massive clocktower overhead.

“They’ve been trained,” he said, quiet but certain. “That wasn’t panic. That was ritual. Reflex.”

He crouched low, placing his palm against the stone of the street.

“Something comes when the bell tolls.”

And then, with a faint shimmer of silver-green light, the scent of moss and moonlight clung to the air around him as his Druidic senses extended, just enough to feel the tremors beneath the surface, to taste the tension in the roots and stones of the town.

Back at the table, Aurum finally spoke again, voice cool and steady.

“Lian casts Detect Magic—focusing on the tower, the square, and the lingering energy in the stones beneath the town. He’s not afraid. Not yet. But he wants to know what everyone else is hiding from.” He paused, then grinned just a little. “And he’s ready to become a bear if he has to.”

He reached for another pork bun and glanced toward Brigid.

“You can stay behind me. Just don’t get caught in the fur if things get messy.”

[Ela Motley]

Tysta simply watches, the ever present calm smile on her face as she see's the scene unfold and her teammates instantly be on high alert, to her there could be hundreds of reasons why these villagers went inside, so before giving herself a headache trying to figure things out on her own, she simply chuckles to herself and while propping herself up on her staff, walks toward the tavern, slowly pushing open the door as she makes her way to the bar and climbs onto a stool as she looks at the barkeep and some of the folk she saw flee inside.

"Well good evening dearies, would one of you be able to tell me why you fine folk all fled inside just now?"
Tysta asked as she laid a few gold on the bar table, nudging them over first to the bar keep keeping eye contact, then the next closest patron also nudging the gold to them and repeating the gesture, all while keeping the same friendly grandmotherly smile on her face.

Ela rolls her dice into a plastic bowl she brought, as an improvised dice tray, a smile on her face as she looked at the result.
"Ah, thats a 16 for a total of 21 on Tysta's persuasion check."
She was glad, her first roll of the session was good, she was seriously worried these dice would not be kind to her...so just to make sure she was ready Ela had given Tysta a pretty even spread of mental stats, sure wisdom was the focus but the old woman was also decently smart with a 14 and soft-spoken enough also with a 14...her physical stats did suffer but that only made sense for Ela as she was playing an elderly elf, hundreds of years old.

Tysta waits patiently in the tavern for answers, ordering some tea or which ever warm beverage the barkeep has to offer while she is at it.

[Professor W B Copperfield]

"Hm, alright, Detect Magic..." Copperfield mused before picking up a book and flipping through the pages to find the description of the spell. Meanwhile Ela described her entrance into the bar. "The rest of the patrons in the bar either clean up their plates or simply start taking them up the stairs on the right side of the large room, as you ask your question. Roll a persuasion check with advantage because of the bribe." He said to allow him a little more time to read the spell description. Not very long, 30 foot radius... school of magic...

21 on Tysta's Persuasion check. "Alright," Copperfield clears his throat as he shuts the book. "The bartender blinks at the elderly elf who passes him money. 'Miss, you're doing just alright coming inside. I still have a room available to stay the night, this will eh, cover payment for sure. Gonna be dangerous tonight, you should stay in your room until sun-up.' He says."

Then he turned to Aurum. "As you stretch your senses out into the ground and the surrounding air, its immediate that the air is stained with something. It's dark, and tastes like nightmares. But you're not able to tell what's going on, that dark sensation being at least a day old- until it hits you, another whiff of it. New, fresh. That same taste but no longer stale. And after the minute or so you've taken to examine the magic around, you open your eyes to find, oh and the others on the road with you would see this now too, a subtle mist beginning to flow across the cobblestones."

[Brigid Laghairt]

"Don't tell me this is another village with a fog monster," Tala complained as she drew her revolver, spinning it in her claws for a moment before flicking the chamber out to confirm it was fully loaded. "Enemies I can't shoot are just the worst!" She patted Aurum on the shin before making her way toward the nearest two-story building to find a sniping vantage. "Either find some way to take of this yourself or find somewhere to hide until it goes away, big fella~!" She then proceeded to enter the same tavern Tysta went into, quickly letting the barkeep know she was just here to find high point to shoot from and not to trouble himself with her presence.

[Chain Dupp]

This was going to be fun. Copperfield’s stories were always enjoyable, and it was clear the man had a knack for setting a scene.

-=-

”This one is… not natural. Cayde will be taking her leave of the open spaces,” she said, following the other ladies into the tavern. Noticing Tysta at the bar and the other patrons all heading up the stairs, she sidled up beside her. ”Cayde hopes that there might be a hot meal available for her, even if the kitchen closes at curfew,” she said to the barkeep, placing a few coins on the counter.

[Aurum Dasheng]

Aurum leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing as the mist began curling deeper across the cobblestones outside the tavern. The last of the townsfolk had vanished, and the only sounds left were the hush of settling footsteps, the distant echo of the clocktower’s final chime… and the wind brushing past abandoned crates.

The others had already retreated indoors. Tysta was charming the barkeep over tea and coin. Cayde was angling for a hot meal like nothing was wrong. Tala had found a sniping perch and made a show of her loaded revolver, but even she had moved inside.

Aurum didn’t move to follow them. Not yet.

⸻

Lian Hu turned, the hem of his simple robes brushing against the stone as he stepped backward toward the tavern. But rather than enter, he stopped just short of the threshold and planted himself firmly at the door.

One hand gripped the haft of his staff. The other pressed gently, reverently, against the tavern’s wooden frame.

“I will not abandon the street,” he said, his voice low but steady. “But I will not stand apart from my companions either.”

He lowered his hand. The staff came upright. His breath slowed.

“No darkness will reach this door while I draw breath.”

His back was to the door now—his body the line. The mist crept closer.

⸻

At the table, Aurum finally looked up from his sheet and toward Copperfield.

“Hey, Professor,” he asked, casual but a little embarrassed in case this was a stupid question. “Quick question.”

He gestured to Lian’s spell list, finger tapping lightly beside the name: Plant Growth.

“If I cast it—not the slow farming version, but the instant one—could I force the plants and roots beneath the cobblestone to push through? Moss, thorns, vines—whatever’s down there. I’m thinking Lian pulls the life up through the cracks. Makes the street fight back.”

He leaned back slightly, the wheels clearly still turning.

“I’m not trying to create a forest. Just make it so if anything hostile comes up this road, they’re moving at half speed. Caught in creeping roots and snagging growth.”

Then, smirking, he added, “I figure even in towns, nature’s always waiting. Cracks in the stone. Forgotten corners. Drainage ditches. The usual.”

A pause. His voice dropped just enough to match the mood of the mist.

“And I’m standing in front of the door. So if anything wants in, it’s crawling through the garden first.”

He nodded toward the board again, settling back in his seat.

“If so then I’ll have Lian casts Plant Growth, concentrating it on the cobbled street leading toward the tavern. He doesn’t turn his back on the fog—but he makes sure it feels the ground beneath it shift.”

He plucked another peach pork bun from the basket, now slightly cooled.

“I’m guessing the roots remember, too.”