The Teapot: Fully Steeped By Marren J.T. MacAdam

Instruments: Optional 1d6

Game Description 

In this game you play as a sentient teapot passing hands through out the ages. Who owns you? Do you like them? How does your magic affect them?

Game Content Warnings 

These are content warnings that are from the game prompts and are present in all playthroughs.

Playthrough Content Warnings 

These are content warnings specific to this playthrough only.

Game Playthrough

Word Count:      Played:

The Creator 

The Alchemist 

Tea and herbs have long had magical effects, fascinating alchemists and witches alike. Alchemists prefer a more studious approach rigorously categorizing things and understanding why they are the way they are. Witches, however, are also tied to fairy-magic, with a long standing tradition of bargains and bribes to work alongside their tea magic. 

What was your creator trying to solve through tea? 

They were trying to work out the best formula for sleep. They tried all blends and all types to get a perfect recipe. 

What drove them to scholarly work? 

Both of their parents were witches and they witnessed a deal gone bad with the fae and decided that they needed a more rigorous approach to tea and magic. 

How did this rigour rub off on you?

I won’t work for just anyone, they have to be disciplined and devoted to the art of tea. 

What was their crowning achievement? What did they distill and how did it change the world? 

They made a tea blend which made it possible to share dreams. People were divided on its uses and if it was good or not to share private dreams with others. Most religions quickly banned it without a proper reason why, and it became an illicit substance on the black market. 

The Teapot 

Color: Holographic Glass 

Shape: Tall and Cylindrical 

Spout: Very long and curvy 

Handle: Elegant and fragil

Lid: The nob is a transparent orb that catches sunlight 

Allegory:  Etched in the glass are two hands reaching out towards each other, barely touching 

Nickname: Glass Jenny, named after the alchemist who first awakened it 

Era 1: Freshly Brewed

Infuser 1: A Bright-Eyes Tea Infuser 

What does their shop look like? 

This infuser loves plants second most to tea. Every spare corner is covered with some green flowering vine, or tall potted tree. Cuttings are hanging in glass vials from the ceiling and vines grow around the walls. The store is a bit warm for most people but the plants are thriving in the moist environment. It’s fortunate that the Infuser knows how to seal the teas so they don’t spoil in the humidity. 

What marks of their past do you see in their present? 

They were from a well-to-do family and it shows in their taste of clothing and jewelry. They are always wearing droves of silk scarves and shawls, decorated with beautiful gold and silver bells on chains. Every time they move I can hear an array of chimes and jingles. 

Was this their last attempt at success or their first? 

This was the first shop they owned themselves, but they spoke often of their mentor and the previous tea-shops they had worked at. 

The latest trend in tea is here and is very Different. What is it? Does the infuser resist it? 

The newest trend is to rid the drinker of their need of sleep. It is the antithesis of what I was created to do, but the Infuser insists on peddling it to every person who will listen. It’s a harsh blend of green, lotus, and of all things coffee. The only way I can show my displeasure is to leave stained rings on the inside that the Infuser must scrub diligently to remove. But still, they sing while they clean me and I do not begrudge them for following along with a profitable trend. 

What blend or flavors do you enjoy the most? 

Chamomile and mint and all those that make you sleep are among my favorites. I was created to help ease others and offer them respite from the waking world and nothing brings me greater joy. 

End their time 

Eventually I was passed on, given to a close friend, someone who needed me more than the Infuser but one who didn’t know how to work the magic. I exchanged hands several more times throughout the decades 

10 Years Pass 

Infuser 2: The Uprooted Ones

I was passed into the hands of an apprentice witch as she fled north from her home city from persecution. She received me as a gift to ease her mind and soul. 

What pushed them to leave? What do they miss the most? 

The warring gods, through mortal hands, have started to outlaw each others’ practices, and the witches have all fled their homes for the north. This Infuser misses the thick smell of the sea and the feeling of sand on her feet, and knows she’ll never see the ocean again. 

What have they grown to love the most? 

Overtime the smell of the pines has come to mean home for her. She spends long hours out underneath a large tree, drinking tea, and watching the clouds. 

How is their tea different? 

She adds the leaves to the boiling water and strains it before pouring it into me. It feels odd to be warm without the tickle of the leaves at my sides, but nice since none clog my spout. 

What is one unique trait? 

After she’s finished the last sip of her drink she places the cup upside down on the saucer or the table. Many people have commented on it but still she will not change her ways. 

Their lovers have become frequent visitors. What tea do they pour them? How do they view you and the magic you bring? 

The first lover was a short man who traced his finger along the allegory on my base. She poured him rosehips and cinnamon. He took the outstretched hands as an omen they could never be together. The second lover was a tall woman, with thick curly hair. She poured for her a peppermint and chocolate tea. They laughed and sang together until the moments grew dull. The third lover was a man of medium height. He was only here for one night and she poured for him a white tea with strawberry. He didn’t believe in my magic. The final lover was a short woman with a bald head and tattoos on every inch of her body. She was the one who made the tea with her thick calloused hands and served the Infuser a simple black tea. 

What do you think of your infusers? 

I wish that I was taken more seriously as an instrument in the process instead of simply a vessel. I miss the discipline of the Alchemist and their obsessive precision. I hope one day to collaborate again with someone like them. 

25 Years Pass 

Era 2: The Golden Era 

Infuser 3: The Tea Master 

Their name becomes synonymous with a blend across the world. What is it? What magic does it bring? 

An apprentice of the Uprooted grew in fame and skill unparallel to any this era had seen. The master blended teas together so harmonious even unspeaking-animals were calmed by it. It was a blend of Silver Needle, White Peony, and White Grapefruit called the White Nielma. Everytime it is brewed inside of me my glass rings out in joy reminiscent of windchimes. When they brew it there is divinity in the leaves.. 

Who was the most memorable guest? What did you like about them? What did you dislike? 

A traveling princess from a neighboring kingdom stepped into the store. She was trying to keep a low profile but was still accompanied by three guards. The master was generous and patient with the amount of unending questions she had. She was bitter about their refusal to become a private tea-maker for her, but she set her sights on their apprentice and they were easily swayed. The master has but one heir and I loath to think that I’ll be serving tea to this woman. 

A storm rolls in and your shop is filled with people. What does the infuser think of the weather. 

The rains have come again, and people, like the water in the streets, flood into the shop. Each person rang out their clothes, and stomped their boots at the door before entering. The master is well prepared for this season and has stocked up on more of the warming teas: chais of honey, turmeric, and chocolate. The patrons gossip about one another, the royals from their country and others, and ask questions about the missing apprentice. The master skillfully avoided giving direct answers. 

What nickname did they give you? Why? 

All of the other teapots have names and mine is Glass Peace, for the warmth and soothing brews I best blend. 

10 Years 

Infuser 4: The Royal Tea Steeper 

The prodigal apprentice to the master, the one the princess bribed, inherited me upon the master’s death and I was shipped in a crate of hay and blankets to the neighboring kingdom. 

You serve the best, brightest, and most corrupt. What secrets do you learn? 

Many alliances were made in secret, often countries doublecrossing, and making the same allegiance with those who are enemies. Should it come to war, there is no place that will be unaffected. There were other mundane reports, scandals and affairs. Along with whispers of gods dying and new creatures coming into power. The infuser, coming from a simple background, was overwhelmed with all the information, only choosing to sell it to others for coin instead of political draw. 

What calamity did your infuser ease with the perfect blend? Who was involved? What were the consequences? 

A diplomat from the Granite Isles was convinced that their merchant ships had not been lost to weather, but from an attack by the King’s men. Neither side would listen to reason and all were shouting at one another until my brew was poured. Each took time to drink the calming blend and look over all reports once more. Finally the diplomats from the Isles conceded to the weather being the cause and the King, smug in his assurance, felt emboldened to hire more privateers to attack under the guise of rains. 

War bristles along the borders. Its effects are felt throughout. What changes happen, does the infuser agree? 

It wasn’t long until the privateers were discovered and no amount of tea could soothe the wounds the Isles took. The King’s favorite blend became scarce, and their patience with the Royal Infuser even shorter. They tried to keep neutral about the war, but I felt their opinions in every grasp of my fragile handle, and they tightened every time it was mentioned. Nothing fueled this war but greed, and it drained the pockets of the kingdom even more. Every day the Infuser wondered if it would be their last.  

Who was your favorite non-infuser and why? 

There was a little girl in the teashop decades ago, the one covered in plants and silk. She wouldn’t go on to be an apprentice, but she handled me so carefully in her tiny hands. She spoke to me and told me how wonderful I was and how she loved me even though I was never hers. 

Era3: The Quiet Years 

Infuser 5: Bandits

Stolen in a castle raid, and exchanged between many hands over the years, I found myself in the care of a group of bandits. They believed, somewhat falsely, that I could be used as a way to keep sickness at bay and promote healing. 

What heist went wrong? 

The group had tried to rob a carriage headed towards the southern desert. They waited in ambush at the side of the road but didn’t see the carriage dogs sneaking up behind them. They were chased off by the beasts before they could even see the carriage. 

What wounds have you saved from your new owner? 

An infuser steeped me with dark red leaves and poured them over the open bite wounds. This was an ancient practice and though they didn’t know why, it prevented the wound from festering and pussing. The ritual, if it even was that, was simply to dump the leaves inside me and fill me to the brim with boiling water. It was only when they cleaned me thoroughly did I feel any appreciation. 

Who among you is an infuser? Why are they in the bandit crew? 

A young man cleaned me every night, and polished my glass clean. He had found his vice in stealing the dreams using the brew I was once created for. He thought me a replica of the fabled teapot that first brewed the tea, but at least he knew some history. His region was the last to ban the blend, and when it became illicit he joined with the bandits hoping to find his next fix. Each time he brewed in me he secretly hoped that it was the blend he was looking for and wondering what his old master in the quiet shop would think of him. 

You are used as a weapon, and sustain damage. What happened and do they fix you?

There is no honor among thieves and deep one night members sought to end the Infuser. Somehow he awoke before the killing strike and he swung hard and true with me. I hit the other bandit on their temple but sustained a long crack that spiderwebbed from the base up between the etched hands. The bandit wasn’t a glass blower, or knew of any way to fix me. I was lucky that I still could retain any water. 


With my new crack the bandit started to call me Spider Glass. 

Infuser 6: The Wanderer 

The bandit was strapped for money, and I the only thing of value. He sold me to a wanderer after a long pitch about the benefits of tea. And so I had a new infuser once again. 

What injustice did the wanderer witness to cause them to roam? 

The king of their land was a deeply corrupt and cruel man. He used people’s lives as toys and killed them in twisted bloodsport. They feared their life and quickly escaped to the west towards the long plains. The road was hard but they were finally at peace under the stars. 

Tea isn’t always carefully regulated, what weird things does the wanderer brew? 

At first I was furious with all the bizarre and untested items being thrown into my pot. Roots from a tree, flowers that hadn’t been dried, and leaves from any shrub in sight. This was not the regulation that I had been built for. I resisted and burned away each batch, refusing to bend to the whim of some feral mage. 

But they were never angry. Each time they drank it without any hint of its displeasure. They ran their fingers along the crack and across the etchings, saying next time it will be good. Eventually I relented. I was getting too old to keep resisting. There is always something new to be discovered, and it cannot be regulated if it is unknown.  

The Infuser shares tea with a recluse. What bits of wisdom do you overhear? 

It was strange to come across another person out here in the wilds, but somehow the wanderer managed to find them. They had a long cloak with amber beads trailing on the back and a clean shaven head. They shared deep wisdom with the wanderer, and advice to avoid the fairies. It had been centuries since I thought of those creatures, but I remembered the alchemist who detested them. They spoke about avoiding the woods where they were seen and how to leave if they ever found themselves in their realm. The recluse advised them to brew rue and anise together for protection, and for every night since the wanderer made themselves at least one cup of the fowl tea. 


I sit now, alone in an abandoned cave, the bones of the wanderer long past faded into dust. It has been a millennia since I have last felt the touch of humanity. Outside the winds howl and change their shape. Rain pours in sleets and hail and I wonder if I will remain here for the rest of time. 

A deer, a bird, a bear, all have come into the opening and brush against me, but none know the magic of tea. I have a deep worry that I will never again be filled with warmth to give to others and I worry still as I hear the winds begin to shift, if there is no one left to find me.

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