"After traveling for a handful of moons and fending off against goblins, the party began nearing the township of Phandalin. Yet, as a fog began to wrap itself around the group, emerging from it revealed a different sight: the rustic, wooden village that taunted being just over the horizon for so long, now presented itself as a towering city or brilliant stonework. The fog has already unveiled strange sightings before, so the party headed inside the city, wary from the strange days behind them.
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Inside, a man in ancient robes began to approach the party, a warm smile on his face. This would quickly turn to horror, and even quicker to stillness, as an arrow pierced his throat by an orcish marksman. A fire towards the north of the township blazed a horrid red, a deep color that began to mimic the now bloodied walkways of Phandalin. The group readied themselves as a war horn trumpeted in the air.
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Another orc, this one seeming to be a leader by her clothing, led her band through the opening, with the four men brandishing their weapons. A group of seven orcs against them, the battle seemed unfair, and so it was. First to fall was the Yaun-Ti Warlock, Uro, with the Human Cleric, Valor, joining him in collapsing soon after. Toruke, the kobold barbarian, stood his grown against a few axe swings, yet could not stand against the onslaught. Lastly stood Tucker, another human and Fighter, somehow evading each attack. He seen his fair share of turmoil and loss before, and would not let this happen again. With quick thinking and luck shining upon him, he used a healing potion bought before the trek to heal Toruke, urging the kobold to use any remaining potion to aid the collapsed mages.
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Assisting his friends, Toruke revived Valor and Uro, beginning to ready himself alongside his savior. Tucker, however, has already began to lay waste to the leader. Once more, a newfound luck and strength aligned itself within the 40-something year old, as he cut clean through the orc leader, weakening the mettle of the remaining orcs. In time, bodies lay on the streets, with the four men, and Phandalin as a result, remaining victorious.
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As the flames resided and the night began to creep in, the group took efforts to unwind. Checking with a counselors office, the group found themselves in Phandalin, but that of its original founding nearly 300 years ago. The fog seemingly warping them into the past, meaning that the orc brigade that ravaged a part of the village was the one that originally felled Phandalin. Tucker, the unassuming, and deemed a good-for-nothing farmer, changed history!"

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This was yet another backlog I did for one of my close friends for his birthday, this being of his character, Tucker Turnip! The above story came from a result of trying to rail road the party to show that they were in a timeloop, but Tucker's player got super lucky with a few natural 20s on his attack rolls, while I seemed to have lost my high rolls as attacks bounded off his armor or miss terribly. It made for quite the interesting showdown, especially since it was all improv, I only wish the adventure would've continued. Thankfully however, I do still keep in touch with those friends.