Grilled Beer Brats With Peppers And Onions

Nothing transports like smell. Deadwinter oranges, fresh sheets, blood on the wind. The best ones are the ones you can’t quite place but feel in your marrow, in the deepest recesses of your mammal brain.

Beer brats in peppers and onions in a cast iron skillet

Ever, the type who arrived once a millennium, was more than emotionally transported by smell. She was transported bodily by it.

If the moon was in the right phase and she was unanchored by earthly attachments, she would begin a ritual migration back to the happiest time in her life. A time that never failed to amaze her, full of awe and possibility.

Back to a particular evening that reflected upon itself endlessly like two mirrors squaring off.

This day was one where the air shimmered with heat, but the water stayed crisp, cool, smooth as glass. She would float for hours, staring at the clouds and feeling the water lap at the sides of her face.

Her mother fretted over the freckles that would appear on her nose, the burn on her shoulders.

Shouting from the shore, she would order Ever to come in for a hat or to rest in the shade. The shouting never worked, but her father always knew what would.

As the sun would start to make its way back to the horizon, he would gather kindling and wood. Vegetables would appear, as would fat sausages from the butcher. As they sizzled over the fire, the smell would call Ever back, as faithfully as an echo.

Sitting at the flame’s edges, draped in a blanket, she would let her sausage get slightly crackly and burnt before eating it. Only once had she burned her tongue bad enough to pause, but a sip of cool beer sent her back for more.

Afterward, her eyes would get heavy, and she would let her world cozily tilt into darkness. At the end of the evening, her mother would smooth her hair, and her father would murmur, “Good to see you again, kid.”… as he always did.

And Ever would think she dreamt it when she awoke the next morning, an orphan again, with tea cooling over embers.

Character Information

Ever – Female Human Fighter


Copy the text below to import this monster (NPC, etc) into Foundry VTT.

Medium humanoid (elf), neutral
Armor Class 13
Hit Points 26 (4d10 + 4)
Speed 30 ft.
10 (+0) 14 (+2) 12 (+1) 15 (+2) 16 (+3) 9 (-1)
Saving Throws INT +4, WIS +5
Skills Nature +5, Perception +5
Senses Darkvision 60 ft., passive Perception 15
Languages Common, Elvish, Druidic
Challenge 1 (200 XP)
Time Traveler. Once per long rest, when Ever encounters certain smells, she has the ability to be transported back in time. After waking up, she finds herself back in the present time with vivid memories of the past.
Spellcasting. Ever is a 2nd-level spellcaster. Her spellcasting ability is Wisdom (spell save DC 13, +5 to hit with spell attacks). She has the following druid spells prepared:
Cantrips (at will): druidcraft, shillelagh
1st level (3 slots): cure wounds, entangle, healing word
Multiattack. Ever makes two attacks: one with Shillelagh and one with Thorn Whip.
Shillelagh. Melee spell attack: +5 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 6 (1d8 + 2) bludgeoning damage. This attack is magically enhanced by Ever’s druidic powers.
Thorn Whip. Ranged spell attack: +5 to hit, range 30 ft., one target. Hit: 10 (2d6 + 3) piercing damage. If the target is Large or smaller, it must succeed on a Strength saving throw (DC 13) or be pulled up to 10 feet closer to Ever. This attack manifests as a whip-like thorn vine extending from Ever’s hand.

Foundry VTT import directions

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