The Stratagem’s Archive

Category: Creative Process and Reflections

  • The Stratagem’s Archives Exist on Ko-fi

    Separating Thinking and Doing With Different Platforms

    The Stratagem’s Archive didn’t start out to be a business or a promotional thing. 

    The Archives started out as a pressure valve—to get the backlog of thoughts out of my head and avoid rotting me from the inside out.

    During a new point in my day, I was led to explore another platform:

    Ko-fi.

    I made a Ko-fi account on a whim—even made a business PayPal account to keep my anonymity, to feel like I’m making progress in my life.

    Making a Ko-fi account gave me a few questions I wanted to answer:

    • Could external support be possible for the archives if presented?
    • What would I do with this Ko-fi account?

    I chose to separate my creative endeavors—my sketches and expanded D&D content and artistic learning curves—from my thinking out loud writing that exists on my blog.

    It wasn’t as easy a decision for me to make because I thought Ko-fi was a social media account. I still don’t have social media; however, Ko-fi gets discovered through social sharing.

    Thus came my third question to answer; 

    • Could The Archives on Ko-fi be found organically?

    That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out for the last 2 weeks now. I wanted to share that The Archives are slowly expanding and so are my personal skills.

    How My Ko-fi Account Was Really Born

    I’ve been recently presented with an opportunity to tap into my creativity, and I don’t know how to feel about it.

    A coworker showed me a design that looked uneven, she was struggling to adjust it because she’s not used to drawing, and asked if I could help.

    Granted, I told my coworker that I haven’t made anything in years—I’ve mostly drew with paper, colored pencils, and a 0.5mm mechanical pencil—and it had been just as long since I drew digitally on my iPad using Procreate. 

    My artistic skills were rusty and severely lacking; I never formally or informally learned to draw, but I was willing to take up the challenge of helping my coworker out.

    She forgot to send me her blueprints for what she wanted, but I went off of memory and made my own similar design.

    I liked how it came out. 

    My very first illustration of the new year. “A Shaka For a Friend.”

    It was simple, the colors surprisingly popped, it took me 2 days to clean up, but the design was initially completed in 30-40 minutes.

    My coworker was the first person, outside of family and polite acquaintances, who liked my work. I felt a small spark of happiness I thought was dead for years.

    How This Opportunity Gave Me Options to Explore

    My coworker has had her own online business for more than 10 years and she told me that some businesses were looking for designers to make things for them.

    She admitted that she pays $400+ per design she likes and she was looking for a new permanent designer to work with her. My brain perked up.

    Did I volunteer to be her new designer?

    Nope.

    I know my skills aren’t very professional, they’re very basic, and I’m still learning to use Procreate.

    I’ve seen what kinds of things she has in her online store and I definitely am not the best fit for her.

    Instead, I chose to showcase my work online, much like my blog and my writing, just to show it exists.

    I’m not officially building a portfolio; I’m not actively looking to become a graphic designer; I’m not trying to make Ko-fi the thing that gets me out of my current jobs financially or schedule wise.

    I figured Ko-fi was the best place to explore and share the things I’m making online. In my opinion, Ko-fi is like Fiverr, but for very creative minds and works of various art, skills, and knowledge. 

    Both WordPress/Jetpack and Ko-fi are the same containers:

    The work exists; support is optional and much appreciated, and this is the fundamental rule I consistently follow.

    But if anyone is curious to see what my Ko-fi page looks like—I’m steadily adding more visual artifacts on Ko-fi—click the button below.

    Explore The Archives on Ko-fi

    This space holds things I’m learning by doing.

    Support is optional and helps keep the Archive expanding.

    Explore The Archives Here

  • The Prophecy of Broken Bonds and Blood: A D&D Story of Choice and Cost

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    A ruined kingdom, a tragic king, and hidden legacies: explore The Prophecy of Broken Bonds and Blood, a story-driven D&D campaign for storytellers.

    A Story Narrative I Wanted to Explore, I’ll Tell The Tale Here Through D&D

    The Kingdom of Raez’ed is a shadow of its former self. What was once a hub of learning, growth, and experimentation has been twisted by war and blood.

    Under the rule of the Wretched King O’hdes, villages burn, rivers run dark with ash and blood, and the cries of orphaned children echo through decimated streets.

    Soldiers, once protectors, march gleefully in service of destruction, their faces twisted with greed and lust for power.

    Yet, behind this devastation lies a story of sacrifice, foresight, and impossible choices.

    King O’hdes: Villain, Hero, or Both?

    King O’hdes is not cruel by nature. Before he took the throne, he was a man with a large heart, devoted to his people and family.

    But he learned of a prophecy: if he failed to take certain actions, his own children—royal and bastard children scattered across the kingdom—would grow into harbingers of destruction.

    Faced with this choice, O’hdes made a painful decision. To protect his children and the kingdom’s future, he would become the villain in the eyes of his people.

    He would rule with cruelty, destroy alliances, and commit acts that would mark him as a tyrant. Yet every act was calculated to ensure his children, and the kingdom they would one day inherit, would survive.

    He offered his people an escape, resources to flee, and gold to start anew. Many accepted. Others stayed to share the burden, loyal to a king whose morality had been twisted for the greater good.

    Even the mothers of his children were not spared from this plan. O’hdes gifted them silver rings with jade gems—rings that would protect them in times of danger.

    Should the war horns ever sound, they were to pass the rings to their children. These symbols would mark his children, both to protect and to challenge them, ensuring they would confront their legacy when the time came.

    Older PCs and Faint Memories

    For older player characters—those in their mid-to-late 20s or early 30s—there’s an added layer of mystery. These characters might have faint, fragmented memories of their father, but not as a king.

    Instead, they remember him either as a soldier, a farmer, or an artisan. King O’hdes dressed simply and walked among the populace, working alongside his people to understand and connect with the kingdom he would one day rule.

    This approach subverts the traditional “royal father reveal,” creating multiple perspectives of the same person and deepening the emotional impact when the truth comes to light. Players must reconcile their childhood memories with the reality of their father’s choices—an opportunity for rich roleplay and moral exploration.

    For the younger PC’s though, they would only know their mothers and those who stepped up to raise them as their family. Not once questioning who their real dad is because someone became their father figure without them knowing.

    Like a step-parent who’d been around since birth and raised their partner’s existing child as their own: with their own form of love, patience, and competence.

    Narrative Mechanics for Your Players

    This story works as both a rich narrative and a DM tool:

    Character stakes: The PCs are O’hdes’ children, unaware of their lineage, giving them personal stakes in the kingdom’s ruin.

    Moral ambiguity: The king is neither purely good nor evil. He’s a living lesson in the gray areas of choice and consequence.

    Symbolism: The silver rings serve as narrative and mechanical tools, signaling pivotal plot points and player discovery.

    Player exploration: The kingdom is scarred, dangerous, and morally complex. Players explore consequences of leadership, witness the impact of choices, and uncover hidden truths.

    Lessons from the DM’s Chair

    When I created Raez’ed and King O’hdes, I drew inspiration from real life: we make difficult choices every day, small and mundane while others grand and loud, and someone will often see us as the “villain” in their story.

    My goal as a DM was to create a world that reflects that complexity: where actions have consequences, morality is gray, and players are compelled to navigate challenges thoughtfully rather than relying on combat alone.

    The faint memories of older PCs are a tool for narrative subtlety—small glimpses of the past that foreshadow revelation without revealing it outright.

    They reinforce the idea that stories are made richer when players actively piece together the truth, just as we piece together understanding in life.

    Reflection & Invitation

    Maybe there’s a bit of King O’hdes in all of us—trying to protect what we love, even if it costs us something we can’t get back. We make choices, we burn bridges, and sometimes we convince ourselves it’s for the greater good. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.

    If this story made you pause, or sparked something in you—a memory, an idea for your own campaign, or just a thought about the weight of our choices—I’d love to hear about it.

    Share in the comments below or send your thoughts to whatimtryingoutnow@gmail.com for anonymous submission.

    Tell me what you saw in this story. Tell me who you’d be if the prophecy were yours to carry.

    You can also like, share, or subscribe to follow more D&D story prompts, narrative-driven ideas, and reflections like this one.

    Whether you’re a DM, a writer, a player, or someone just passing through—The Archive is open to you. It’s a place for the weary, the wondering, and the wandering. Stay awhile, share your thoughts, or just read and rest for a bit.

    A Thought For “Evil” Player Characters

    The choice that King O’hdes makes between becoming a tyrant king or face his children becoming the world destroyers gave me a new line of thought;

    What if there are player characters in the campaign that are evil aligned?

    They thrive on chaos, they want to see the world burn, and this would be a pyrrhic defeat because King O’hdes learns that his children destroyed the world irregardless of what he did.

    Should this ever happen and you want to use this narrative for your campaign, Fellow Archivists, make this realization for King O’hdes as heartbreaking and as mind blowing as you possibly can.

    This isn’t a king who destroyed his own kingdom. This is also a father who did everything in his power to ensure his children had a home to return to, even without him present, only to learn that nothing he did made a difference.

    Explore Other D&D Vignettes Below

    An Updated Note:

    It’s been months since I touched this post, but I want to change the evil king’s name from King O’hdes to King Pierre Rhick.

    The name change seemed fitting until recently because, depending on how the players play through the campaign, I wanted to have the king’s name sound similar to “pyrrhic,” instead of his name being inspired by Odysseus.

    Even though the king is going against his nature to prevent a calamity from happening, his home and land are burning, there will always be at least one player who would choose to instigate the apocalypse just for shits and giggles.

    Especially if it lets them stay in character.