D&D Homebrew: My 10 Favorite Homebrew Rules

Ever since I discovered Critical Role, I've been obsessed with Dungeons & Dragons 5e. No other medium or pastime has fully captured all of the aspects of creativity that I enjoy: worldbuilding, epic combat, monstrous creatures, and amazing unexpected story paths. Since then, I've compiled a myriad of lists of homebrew rules, riddles, magic items, custom spells, and random generators to help me with my preferred method of enjoying D&D: Dungeon Mastering.

I figured now that my YouTube channel, while more active than ever, isn't being focused on in Pretzel Lectern, I should use it to post more D&D content like other D&D blogs I've seen, my most favorite of which are theangrygm.com and blogofholding.com. Today I'll be looking at a few homebrew rules that enhance the D&D experience for me.

Poem: Time Never Ceases

I already published this poem on this blog under a different name, but I realized I had an updated version I revised in my creative writing class that made it more... poetic, I guess. It was kind of dumb in the original version for just being about food. This one adds some emotion into it by moving up the ladder of abstraction every once in a while and eliminating clichés.

Time Never Ceases

Drinks get warm

Food gets cold

Crackers get stale

Friends get annoying

Bread gets hard

Cereal gets soggy

Soda gets flat

Clothes tighten

Fruit spoils

Vegetables wilt

Ice cream melts

Children grow up

Gravy lumps

Cheese molds

Eyesight blurs

Milk sours

Hair grays

Meat rots 

Pets die

Time never ceases.

Poem: Craving

I made this in a creative writing class my second year of college, back when I was still having withdrawals from Brazil. Not a huge fan of it because it don't rhyme none, but from what I can tell from other free-verse poetry, I think it's not half-bad the way it talks about simplicity and nostalgia vs. fanciness.

Craving

I have tasted succulent steaks,

Seasoned with pepper and sauce and cooked just a little bit pink.

Sandwiches and hamburgers,

Some so tall you have to pin them together with a toothpick.

Salads so fresh,

Every half-moon of lettuce, cucumber, and celery would crunch.

Breadsticks dripping with butter—

Literally dripping. And all rough and salty with garlic on top.

I have sampled soups and broths,

Whose robust aroma warms the kitchen for half the evening.

Restaurants have their specialties, and the melting pot of America

Also happens to be bubbling with a dozen different cultural sauces.

But oh, how I long for a simple Brazilian coxinha,

Golden and fried, made from a common chicken

Cooked in a plywood stall, by a tattered gentleman

Feeding strangers so his family can eat.