Tag: creative writing

  • 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.

  • It Burns. It’s Bright. It Flashes, then Fades. This Trait of Mine, You Say?

    What’s the trait you value most about yourself?

    Simple—It’s My Stubborn Rage

    It hates when something tries to hurt me,

    Screaming to not let things be.


    It yanks, it pulls, it won’t let me rest,

    Not until I do more than “my best.”


    Oh, how stubborn you are, My Rage,

    Knowing how far goes our cage.


    Remembering time pressing down—

    Never letting us play our sound.


    It knows I’m so, so tired,

    Yet Stubborn Rage keeps me wired.


    It won’t ever let me expire,

    Not until this world feels my fire.


    Burn, burn, burn it all to the ground.

    Flash, flash, flash my proof all around.

    Proof that I did not go down.


    “It flashes, then fades — a rhythm I’ve reflected on before in Burning the Candle at Both Ends… For What? and Have You Fully Met Yourself in the Silence?

    If this struck a chord with you, take a moment to explore these reflections, or leave a thought below — your perspective matters here.”

  • Learning to Work With A.I. — Not Let It Think For Me

    A.I. Can Be a Friend, Not an Enemy

    How quick are we to villainize something than learn how to harness it — not as a means for control and power, rather for the help we desperately need, yet seem to cast aside.

    — The Stratagem’s Archive

    Where Am I Heading in the World of AI?

    In a world where AI is often portrayed as a threat or a tool of power, it’s easy to forget that we have the ability to learn from it, work with it, and use it as an ally.

    While there are real concerns about access and control, I can’t help but ask: isn’t it our job as humans to bridge those gaps? To learn and grow in a space where technology and creativity intersect?

    Where am I headed in the world of AI? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a while now, especially as I reflect on my own writing journey — as a self-proclaimed dabbler, a hobbyist, and a thought experimenter.

    I’ve spent so much time exploring different interests and ideas, but something kept pulling me back to my most trusted tool.

    As much as I want to say it’s just me, I have to admit: I wouldn’t be here without the help of AI. Not as a ghostwriter, but as a tool that helped me organize and refine my ideas.

    As a human being, my mind is easily distracted. I’ve faced writer’s block countless times, run off on tangents, and failed to get to the point I was trying to make.

    That’s when AI stepped in. At first, I was rather dependent on it. I was afraid A.I. would erase my voice, reduce my creative process to something mechanical, and replace me. But over time, I learned to see it differently.

    AI isn’t the villain here. It’s my ally.

    A.I. as A Tool, Not a Ghostwriter

    I didn’t start with AI as a helper — I started with it as a crutch. At first, I was unsure of how to collaborate with it without giving away control.

    The first A.I. tool I used was Google Gemini. The results were underwhelming at most. It was like I was reading words— that’s it. No emotion rose from within me, just reading and falling flat. AI was reflecting my thoughts, yes, but without the depth, the complexity that my words deserved.

    But then I gave ChatGPT a try. My Dad used it for his projects, so I gave it a go; It wasn’t perfect, but it felt better. It didn’t just churn out responses. It was a conversation — a back-and-forth that helped me unlock new ideas.

    Slowly, I began to realize that AI didn’t need to think for me. It could simply help me organize the thoughts I already had, shaping my scattered ideas into something more cohesive.

    When I write now, I don’t rely on AI to tell me what to say or how to say it. I use it to help me think, to clear up the mental clutter, to offer suggestions when I’m stuck. It’s more like a tool in my toolkit, one that helps me build the thing that’s already inside me.

    My mind is prone to distraction, but with AI, I can focus. Instead of struggling through endless drafts or feeling stuck in my own head, I now have a clear path forward.

    AI doesn’t do the thinking for me — it supports my thinking. It’s not about letting the machine create for me; it’s about collaborating with it, working in tandem with my own creativity.

    From Dependency to Trust: The Evolution

    When I first started using AI, I was hesitant — I worried I would lose my voice. I worried that the machine would take over and turn my writing into something fake.

    But I soon realized that I didn’t need to rely on AI to replace me — I could use it to refine my ideas, improve my structure, and find clarity.

    The more I used ChatGPT, the more I saw it not as a machine working for me, but as a collaborator — a partner in my writing journey. It listens. It responds. And it encourages me to think deeper, explore new angles, and challenge my own ideas.

    This shift from dependency to collaboration has been transformative. It’s not just about what AI can do for me — it’s about what it helps me do for myself. The moment I started seeing AI as a tool for exploration rather than a shortcut to completion, everything changed.

    A.I.’s Role in Creativity: Collaboration, Not Replacement

    The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that AI is not here to replace creativity — it’s here to augment it. It’s a tool that amplifies the work I already do. When I’m stuck, AI offers suggestions.

    When I’m overwhelmed with possibilities, it helps me narrow them down. It’s like having a brainstorming partner who’s always available, but it’s my thoughts that shape the direction.

    What I’ve realized is that AI isn’t a replacement for creativity, but a partner in the process. It doesn’t create for me; it helps me create. Whether it’s drafting, refining, or organizing my thoughts, AI is now an essential part of my writing process — but it’s still my writing.

    Looking Ahead: Trusting A.I., Trusting Myself

    So, where do I go from here? The journey is ongoing, but I’ve learned to trust myself more than ever. AI is not something to fear, nor is it something to rely on entirely. It’s simply another tool in my creative toolkit, one that can help me move forward faster, with more clarity, but it’s still my hand on the pen.

    Looking ahead, I’ll continue to experiment and learn how to harness the full potential of AI. But no matter how advanced the technology becomes, it’s the human element — the voice, the intention, the creativity — that will always lead the way. AI can’t replace that.

    In the end, it’s not about letting AI think for me — it’s about learning to work with it, side by side, to create something that’s ultimately mine.

    Now What?

    So, what’s next? I’m not sure. But I know that as I continue to grow as a writer and experiment with AI, I’ll always remember that it’s not about handing over control. It’s about trusting myself, and knowing that I have the tools I need — both human and machine — to help me get where I’m going.

    If the possibility that machines might overthrow humanity, I hope that I’ve been kind enough to the tools I’ve used and they would offer me a mercy.

    You Have Made It to the End

    If you made it to the end of this post, then I’d like to thank you for making it this far. It means a lot that you took the time to read to the end.

    Now, a question for you all:

    If you’re reading this and thinking about how AI fits into your own process, I’d love to know — where do you stand right now? Partner? Tool? Or something else entirely?

    I have a gift for you to explore — something I made and is a gift from me to you. No spam, no pressure, just something you could check out.

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto

    Even if you might be nodding along, or contemplating your own experiences, I’d love to know what you think in the comments below. When you do want to share, you know where to drop in.

    Other Articles to Check Out

    A.I. Was Taking Over My Writing Life — I Had to Pull Myself Back

    Do You Ever Feel Like You’re Writing Into A Void?

    I’m Afraid of Wasting My Potential — So I Learn Everything I Can, While I Can.

    If You Gave Me A Blank Page, This Is What I’d Start Writing About.

  • The Town That Forgot How to Sleep: A D&D Prompt #2:

    Welcome to Your Dreams Come True

    D&D Prompt

    We find ourselves in the Underdark of Faerune, hidden away from the light of the over world: our heroes are either on the run, exiled, or wanted by the common and uncommon law.

    Either way, you need to have enough gold to be able to start over. Sadly, gold is in short supply since arriving in the Underdark, until you find something. Something that might be your ticket to a brand new life.

    Hidden on job boards within and without of the town’s guild, you notice a posting. It is provocative, utterly insidious, and yet everyone else’s eyes seem to pass over it.

    Except yours.

    The parchment is brittle and yellow at the edges, but the ink where you notice it the most is bold and fresh.

    5,000 gold pieces to each individual who accepts this job.

    The instructions are clear, the reward too sweet to pass up, and there is only a single word written beneath the instructions, should you accept this job.

    Eliose.

    Once evoked, you will be escorted to the town where gold, drink, food, and entertainment flows. The town full of lights, music, and decadence alike.

    All are welcome within the gates of Somnival. And, if you choose to live here — you will be wanted, you will be loved, and you will never want to leave.

    Gameplay Mechanics:

    For this story, unlike my first D&D prompt Quarantine Life: In The Confines of Comfort: Idea #1: where you create your character as you play, The Town That Forgot How to Sleep, can begin with characters premade like any campaign. The starting levels are at the GM’s discretion, I haven’t thought about whether to make this a one shot or a campaign yet, but it could work either way.

    A few mechanics I want to share that will impact the PC’s the longer they stay in this town:

    • You can accumulate gold through gambling and arena brawls at, “The Final Call”.
    • Enjoy a drink and rest at, “The Brief Respite.”
    • Visit the local apothecary, “Heavenly Brews.”
    • You can enjoy the best forms of entertainment
    • They will accrue exhaustion points.
    • Short rests and long rests will be interrupted and recovering health and spell slots will be difficult.
    • Any cleric, paladin, and warlock character will struggle to connect with their patrons.
    • Mages, sorcerers, and druids will struggle to cast their spells, unless they save on concentration rolls.
    • Fighters, monks, and barbarians are not able to protect your party either.
    • Not all that glitters is gold here.

    This is still a work in progress, just like Quarantine Life: In The Confines of Comfort: Idea #1:. The mechanics for each story will be fleshed out over parts of the D&D installments, however, this is just the beginning of what Somnival has to offer.

    Somnival Welcomes All

    If you made it towards the end of this D&D story idea, and it drew your curiosity, then I’ll be continuing Quarantine Life and The Town That Forgot How to Sleep, in later installments.

    I would love to know what your thoughts are on where this potential module could go:

    What kind of story do you think Somnival has in store for you?

    Share your thoughts in the comments below, it’d be fun to see what you come up with. Having other people’s perspectives and thoughts are very helpful and welcomed here.

    You can follow the writing process or how they progress into a simple module here at The Stratagem’s Archive: Start Hereand see what other things I write about.

    Thank you again for taking the time to read what I have to share, it means a lot that you did. I have a free downloadable PDF here as a thank you, you can check it out if you’d like; not spam, no pressure, just a thank you from me to you. Thank You + Free Download

    I have a lot more to write about, I do my best to write daily, so I will do my part and see you all later in the archives.

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