During our cooking class last month, I noticed our chef skipping a few steps while preparing traditional Iranian rice, which I've made many times.
Later, when we were eating and conversing, I asked him about the steps he skipped, hoping to learn more. 🧵 #WOTCstaff#dnd
"Agha, I noticed you didn't poke holes in the rice before steaming it," I said to him softly. "My baba and grandmother always taught me to do it that way so the steam could rise through the rice and make it fluffy. Was this just a folktale, or does it actually help the dish?"
"No, you're right! It does help," he replied.
But he went on to say that his first priority was that the students in these classes—who come from all sorts of backgrounds and places—actually go home and cook these dishes, to welcome them in their homes and make them their own.
"If we add too many steps, no one will go home and prepare these meals. But if it's easier, they will cook them again, and others will get to try them."
It's a starting point, an invitation into our home, our tables, and the stories we share around them.
In a way, this philosophy permeates Journeys Through the Radiant Citadel. The book is an invitation to engage with something new, share our stories, and tell your own.
We've removed some of the steps in the cooking process to make it easier for you:
Adventures come first so you can get right to the action, but the gazetteers that follow them give you a more well-rounded look at the locations in which these stories take place.
Many of the adventures, like @SurenaXMarie's "Salted Legacy," are short enough to be played in just a couple of sessions, while the Radiant Citadel itself makes it easy to travel between them.
Just like Omid's cooking course, the whole book is an invitation, a carefully crafted framework for you to share in all of its wonders and make them your own, with your friends and at your tables, be they online, at home, or at your local game store.
Journeys Through the Radiant Citadel releases this Tuesday, July 19th! You can find more about it here:
Today we tested out my new manghal for a few friends. 👨🍳
Many kabobs were made, and I was appropriately wearing my kubideh hat! #tahdig
A thorough plan leads to perfect timing on all the different dishes that will grace the sofreh.
The skewers after placement, spread out over some hot coals. (Shout-out to Shervin at Rose Persian Market for the recommendation of whole wood versus little biscuits.)
Today I begin a new adventure at Wizards of the Coast as a Senior Game Designer.
This announcement is nothing short of a dream come true for me. I love D&D with all my heart, and I hope to be a good steward of this game that has touched so many lives, mine included.
The early days of my game design career coincided with my time as a clinic manager. I essentially worked three jobs to position myself for the leap to a full-time career in tabletop, squeezing in writing over lunch and after dinner when I wasn’t working on something for B&G.
The past three years have featured countless cups of coffee and late nights, but I share this milestone equally with the friends, peers, and mentors that I’ve met along the way. People who took time to give me advice and hope or who joined me on projects we championed together.
How do you feel about the following D&D house rule?
If a spellcaster casts polymorph on an unwilling creature, and the target passes its Wisdom saving throw, the caster must then pass their own spell save DC or be turned into their originally intended form.
I've never been a fan of using polymorph to turn the boss into a weaker form—a rodent, bug, etc. Even after legendary resistances, it feels like a cheese move!
Good thoughts all around! Sounds like while some folks are a fan of this, there are some issues. Some worth noting:
▪️ Why just this spell? Any implications for others?
▪️ It's concentration, so can't it be immediately dropped?
▪️ DMs should just be able to adapt by countering
The first time I introduced a demilich to our D&D table was the playwright Thaeziagnuz.
When the party arrived in his lair, they waded through knee-deep piles of crumpled pages, torn from a script that never was.
One of the characters knelt down and picked up one of the pages.
As they smoothed it out, they noticed their own name several times. It was a page of dialogue that closely matched a previous session, but it differed ever so slightly and changed the outcome of the scene.
They picked up another.
An epic battle with a blue dragon that had occurred years ago. They had triumphed, but in this version, a character blundered the killing blow, and the dragon's lair had become their tomb.
The characters began rifling through the sea of torn pages. They were all about them.
My uncle asked me last week how I jumped from healthcare to tabletop RPGs. This is a question I get fairly often as most of my education is related to health science—can I get a Medicine check?
As boring as it may be, my answer basically boils down to "I worked really hard." 🧵
I don't have a writing degree. I wish I did, but creative pursuits were always treated as hobbies rather than legitimate careers (which isn't surprising if you knew my mom and dad's stories).
I knew I had (and still have) a lot of room to learn and grow, so I just spent every ounce of free time I had trying to level up my TTRPG skills.
At work, I would sit with this little book nearby so that if a flash of inspiration came, I'd write it down and continue working.