D&D Journal Entry Readers (For Fun Project)
Project Overview
Hello! I'm Sleeth, and to make it through quarantine I've been running a D&D campaign for a large group of friends over discord. So, this project isn't going to lead to fame on youtube or anything like that, it's just something fun, and if you want to help I'd be grateful and put a good word in on behalf of my entire group!
Pretty much I'll be placing journal entries here, and if the same person were to make additional entries along the way (and some will in certain areas) getting the part would just mean getting to continue making the voices if you want to. Yes, it's my job as DM to make characters and their voices, but some things can't be conveyed by a single vocal range, and this is always good practice!
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Illithiad was the true creator of the world the players are in, but growing bored of always knowing the future, (s)he fractured the world he spent so long ruling so (s)he couldn't predict anymore. Now (s)he quietly observes, letting the world surprise them.
(Distraught, Distant.)
"Why am I here?"This is a question mortals ask often, after all, I have made them. Should I tell them the truth? Could they handle it? I, their god, did not want to be alone. I sculpted ants from clay, made them smile, made them weep. They worship me for their gifts and curse me for their misfortune, but it's true nonetheless that I am in fact behind it. I don't control them- not all of them. They carry out my "will" and kill in my name. Ask for my forgiveness, and plead for guidance.
Can they know it's all a game? Their very existence was to amuse me? I, their all powerful god, did not want to be alone. I who have tasted every drink, and seen every sight. I did not give them free will, I gave them the ability to create, and gave up my ability to see. Only then could I be surprised.
Could I tell a mortal that their creator wanted only to see an ant construct a hill?
During one of the collapsing events, a child and his family had to go into the cellar to hide from the shattering world, only to have their entire home buried under stone. These were the final words written down, before they faded away.
It's dark.
Father made us go down into the cellar, everything was shaking. I was eating breakfast, then it got really dark out all of a sudden. Father came in and made us all go downstairs, and everything rumbled. It felt like I spun in circles for hours, I was so dizzy.
It's quiet now, I don't hear anyone talking outside. Father said we can't go out, but I tried to look anyway. The door upstairs wouldn't open, it felt heavy. I'm writing now because he said I should, something about candles making it hard to breath, maybe he doesn't like the smell.
Maybe he's sick. Maybe I'm sick. I feel dizzy again, and I'm sweating a lot. Father is too. After I take a nap, I'll try to go outside again to find medicine.
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