Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
The
VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX
is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Dreams of Erthe
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 8628037" data-attributes="member: 508"><p><strong>ADVENTURE 28: DESERT DREAMS</strong></p><p></p><p>PC Roster: </p><p style="margin-left: 20px">Alewyth Putterpye, dwarf priestess of Aerik 6</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Thurloe Pulver, human fighter 3/wizard 3</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Wakuren, half-orc cleric of Cal 3/paladin 3</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Xandro Silverstrings, human bard 5/rogue 1</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"> Zander Quilson, elf sorcerer 6</p><p></p><p>Game Session Date: 30 April 2022</p><p></p><p> - - -</p><p></p><p>"This sucks," remarked Thurloe from his perch in Horse's saddle.</p><p></p><p>"The next dreamer happens to be in the middle of the Centralia Desert," commented Wakuren, sitting in his customary seat in the wagon, the reins to both mules in his hands. "And if you'll recall, I did offer to cast an <em>endure elements</em> spell on you," the half-orc reminded Thurloe. He, Alewyth, and Xandro had all had the spell cast upon them, keeping them relatively comfortable in the heat of the burning sun - so much so they still wore their armor. Zander Quilson had eschewed the spell as he wore no armor, merely robes - and opted to keep the hood of his robe over his head to protect him from sunburn. Thurloe had opted instead to do without his armor, which he had stashed in the back of the wagon. He'd also insisted he didn't need an <em>endure elements</em> spell and his attitude at the time had strongly hinted the others were somewhat weak in relying upon spellpower for mere comfort. Now he wiped sweat from his brow with a rag for the umpteenth time that morning. Wakuren was pretty sure it was merely pure stubbornness and a refusal to admit he'd been wrong preventing Thurloe from asking for an <em>endure elements</em> spell to be cast upon him. Either that or he didn't want to look weaker than Zander, who seemed to be doing just fine without it.</p><p></p><p>Thurloe said nothing but just grunted in irritation, making another pass across the back of his neck with his rag.</p><p></p><p>Then there was a sudden bit of movement off to their left and before Zander could warn the others a black-armored scorpion larger than any of their horses skittered up from between a clump of low cactus plants, its pincer-claws open wide for an attack. It was aiming either for Alewyth on her dire goat mount, Pyrite, or the left-most of the mules, Perseverance. As the dwarven priestess urged her goat forward out of range, Zander cast a <em>haste</em> spell upon the five heroes and Thurloe's horse, figuring of the various mounts Thurloe's was the one most likely to be brought directly into battle against the monstrous scorpion. Alewyth cast a spell of her own once Pyrite was out of immediate danger and a <em>spiritual warhammer</em> appeared in the air above her head, hovered for a brief moment, and then went streaking over to strike the scorpion's hardened carapace.</p><p></p><p>Thurloe cast a quick <em>mage armor</em> spell on himself to take the place of his own armor and pulled the bastard sword from its sheath on his back. Unnoticed, the rag he'd been using to wipe away sweat fell from his hand and fluttered to the hard-packed dirt of the desert as he spurred Horse around the wagon and positioned him for a charge into battle.</p><p></p><p>The scorpion's claws snapped shut near Perseverance's left rear leg, but Wakuren had steered the mules away to the right and the claw missed its target. Zander pulled back on Eddy's reins so he wouldn't be struck by the mule-wagon as it crossed directly in front of them, then sent a <em>magic missile</em> spell darting over the back of the wagon to strike the scorpion at the base of its venomous tail, already raised to strike. Then Alewyth leaped down from her mount and raced across the desert sands with a speed greatly enhanced by Zander's <em>haste</em> spell, to bring <em>Sjondra</em> crashing into the arachnid's left legs. She felt one of them snap under the force of her blow, then her <em>spiritual weapon</em> slammed down upon its back with another strike. But it was Thurloe, charging in upon Horse from the other side of the scorpion, who slew it with a blow from his bastard sword. The heavy body crashed to the ground, the venom-dripping tail stinger not having been able to be brought to bear even once.</p><p></p><p>"Everybody okay?" Wakuren asked. Alewyth returned to Pyrite's saddle as her <em>spiritual warhammer</em> winked back out of existence. Thurloe wiped the arachnid's ichor off his blade and resheathed it. "How much longer you figure it is to the dreamer?" he asked. They'd been traveling through the desert for two days now and he had seen enough hard-packed earth and scraggly cactus plants for a lifetime.</p><p></p><p>"Probably no more than a couple of hours," guessed Wakuren, steering the mules back into the direction they'd been traveling before the sudden ambush. The others assembled back into their standard formation.</p><p></p><p>"This sucks," repeated Thurloe, his opinion of the situation not having changed any by the scorpion's attack. But in another two hours they saw the first signs of habitation they'd seen for the last couple of days: a thin line of smoke rising up into the desert sky. "I'll bet that's it up ahead," hazarded Wakuren, hoping to get Thurloe out of his grumpiness.</p><p></p><p>"Better be," the fighter-wizard grumbled.</p><p></p><p>As they approached, they saw the smoke rose from the chimney of a dwelling made of hard-packed mud, a large, rectangular building with the corners rounded off. There were two hemispherical structures off to the right of the building, each about 20 feet in diameter, but Wakuren's attention was caught by the woman who had stepped outside upon their approach. She was human, wearing a cloth garment covering her entire body, with a wrapping over her head that looked to be a long scarf wound into a loose turban of some sort. She was unarmed but looked suspiciously at the approaching group - and focused fearfully upon the half-orc exclusively once she got a good look at him.</p><p></p><p>Wakuren wasn't offended, having spent his whole life with people judging him by his fearsome appearance. So he brought his favorite weapon to bear, flashing a wide smile that showed a bit of teeth but none of his small tusks, while raising both hands to show he was unarmed. "Good afternoon," he said, beaming. "We have come because we believe there is someone trapped in their dreams here - and we have a means to help them."</p><p></p><p>"How--?" stammered the woman. "How did you know?"</p><p></p><p>"Then there is someone here asleep? And unable to be awakened?" asked Alewyth.</p><p></p><p>"There is, yes - my brother, <strong>Jazaar</strong>. But forgive me. My name is <strong>Djamila</strong>. You look like you have traveled far. Please, come in - I offer you the hospitality of our home." She pulled aside the rug hanging over the sole doorway into her mud-baked home. "Please enter, and my sisters will fetch you fresh water and cactus fruit before you try to wake our brother."</p><p></p><p>Alewyth entered the dwelling, noting the floor was stone, recently swept. She didn't fail to notice the four spears leaning against the wall near the entryway, a handy form of defense against intruders (although she absently wondered if they were so concerned about intruders why they didn't have a proper door instead of just a hanging carpet to keep out the blowing sand and dust). The others followed after ensuring the reins of their various mounts were tied to the wagon so they wouldn't wander about. Wakuren was the last to enter the dwelling, bowing low to Djamila in an effort to show even half-breed orcs could be trained to have good manners.</p><p></p><p>Once inside, Djamila introduced her two sisters, <strong>Maheen</strong> and <strong>Suhana</strong>, while Alewyth likewise introduced the members of her own small band. Suhana passed around a plate of cactus fruit while Maheen served the heroes drinking horns of water poured from a large gourd. Once their guests had been properly refreshed, Djamila began her tale. "There is not much to tell," she admitted. "One morning, several weeks ago, Jazaar could not be awakened from his sleeping pallet. We did everything we could to awaken him, but nothing worked. And yet, he does not seem to suffer from loss of food or lack or water and he does not waste away as we would have thought. We have no explanation for how this came to be, unless it is some sort of magical curse. So tell me, how can you awaken him?"</p><p></p><p>Alewyth explained the ritual they had performed with much success many times over the past few months. Djamila feared there was not enough space in Jazaar's room for them to all sit around him and had her sisters push the tables and pillows (used to sit upon in place of chairs) in the communal room up against the walls so Wakuren and Thurloe could lift Jazaar's sleeping pallet from his bedroom into the larger living space. Jazaar's pet serval, <strong>Hunter</strong>, padded along, curious as to what these strangers were doing with his master.</p><p></p><p>"Is there anything we can do to assist?" Djamila asked. Alewyth handed her a dreamstone and a leather headband and had her tie it around her brother's forehead, while the dreamwalkers all did likewise with their own dreamstone headbands. Zander activated his <em>jade cooshee</em> and had him stand guard over the five as they slept, and Djamila and her sisters agreed to ensure the dreamwalkers were not interrupted during the ritual. "With any luck, all six of us will be waking up together," Wakuren told the sisters before closing his eyes and slowing his breathing as he performed the mental rituals to prepare his body for sleep.</p><p></p><p>As always, it took everyone several minutes to all fall asleep and join back up together in the Dreamlands - led by their individual moogle guides, who took them to the Hall of Dreams where Mogo repositioned the hallways of endless doors until he came to the relevant one. "Here's the dream you're looking for - good luck, kupo!" he told the group as they opened the dream-door and stepped inside the dreamscape.</p><p></p><p>The dream looked very much like the desert outside, save for the lack of cacti and the strange, purple-and-lavender-streaked sky. But there was movement directly ahead in the almost featureless landscape, a wriggling mass that became apparent as an enormous, brown caterpillar some 40 feet long. Its pliant body undulated as its many legs skittered it across the desert wasteland.</p><p></p><p>Alewyth looked around. "I don't see Jazaar anywhere," she observed.</p><p></p><p>"Neither do I," agreed Xandro. "Maybe the bug got him."</p><p></p><p>Alewyth raised the second dreamstone she held in her hand back on the Mortal Plane - and thus had with her here in the Dreamlands. Holding it before her as she would her holy symbol of Aerik had she been trying to turn undead before her, she channeled her will through it in an attempt to weaken the monster-worm. At her side, Wakuren raised his own dreamstone and followed suit. "Does it seem to be doing anything?" asked the half-orc.</p><p></p><p>"Doesn't look like it," admitted Alewyth. Zander looked worriedly at the size of the approaching caterpillar and cast a <em>mage armor</em> spell upon himself.</p><p></p><p>"This is stupid," grumbled Thurloe. "How are we supposed--" His complaining came to an abrupt halt when he saw the creature's side bulge out and a blade emerge from its rubbery skin. The blade became a falchion, gripped in a strong hand covered in blood and gore.</p><p></p><p>"Never mind," Thurloe amended. "I assume that's Jazaar there." He held out his dreamstone and tried using it to "home in" on Jazaar, with no effect.</p><p></p><p>The arm holding the falchion completely emerged from the gash it had cut through the side of the caterpillar's body, followed quickly by a long-haired head and a powerful, muscular body clad in mismatched hides. The figure was covered in blood, presumably that of the monster worm he'd just cut his way out of.</p><p></p><p>"Not unless Jazaar's an orc," observed Zander, for the figure spinning about to face the great caterpillar was undoubtedly a member of a desert orcish tribe of raiders - much like the members they'd encountered just days ago. But while this fellow could have easily passed as a member of the horse-riding raiders they'd fought, none of the dreamwalkers could identify him as anyone they'd seen before - and as far as they knew only one of the orc raiders had survived the attack upon Morisar Nemertel after the heroes had helped save him from the attack of a giant banded lizard. This orc was definitely not the one they'd encountered earlier.</p><p></p><p>But then the caterpillar spun the front half of its body around, opened its mouthparts, and swallowed the orc up again before he had an opportunity to bring his weapon to bear against it. Just that quickly, it was just the five dreamwalkers and the giant caterpillar alone in the desert wasteland. And as for the caterpillar, having eaten its meal again, it continued crawling forward in the same direction it had been going, ignoring the five armed figures before it.</p><p></p><p>"What's going on?" Zander asked. Then he put a hand to his head as if experiencing a sudden headache.</p><p></p><p>"Are you okay?" asked Alewyth, watching Zander wince in confusion. Then she noticed Thurloe and Xandro doing the same. "Guys? What's up?"</p><p></p><p>"Nothing much," the bard answered. "Just felt like something tried contacting me mentally or something." He looked suspiciously over at the caterpillar but it was steadfastly ignoring the group. Then a gash erupted on its other side and once again the orc cut his way out to a moment's freedom before being swallowed back up again.</p><p></p><p>Xandro and Zander Quilson each winced again, putting a hand to their foreheads. "Something's affecting the three of them, but not us," Wakuren observed, looking at Alewyth. "I haven't felt anything. You?"</p><p></p><p>"Nothing," answered Alewyth. "Maybe the fact that we're clerics?" she guessed.</p><p></p><p>But Wakuren saw a possible answer to the questions of why there was no Jazaar in the dream, why the giant caterpillar was ignoring them completely and didn't seem to be affected by their attempts to weaken it with their dreamstones, and why Thurloe, Xandro, and Zander - the three best-looking males among the visitors to the three sisters' home - were somehow being affected by some outside factor. "We're in the wrong dream!" Wakuren deduced. "The sisters are doing something to the others while they're sleeping! Everyone, as fast as you can--wake up!"</p><p></p><p>"But the cooshee's guarding over us!" argued Zander, but it was too late - Wakuren had already woken himself up and had disappeared from the dreamscape. As the elf sorcerer looked, Alewyth vanished as well. Well, he might as well join them....</p><p></p><p>Wakuren woke up in the same position he'd been in when he fell asleep at the beginning of the ritual: sitting upright in the lotus position the moogles had taught them was most conducive to lucid dreaming, with his hands resting upon his knees. The crafty half-orc gave no indication he had woken up, peering cautiously from between mostly-closed eyes. He saw Alewyth sitting cross-legged across from her, <em>Sjondra</em> sitting by her side; she was following his lead and giving no outward indication that she was anything but fast asleep.</p><p></p><p>But the two clerics were the only dreamwalkers still sitting around Jazaar's sleeping pallet, for the three desert women had each lifted up their own personal target - Djamila carrying Zander, Maheen lifting Xandro, and Suhana cradling Thurloe - and were carrying them off to separate rooms as if the grown men weighed no more than small children. The elven dog, tail wagging furiously in delight, followed Djamila as she carried his master off to her bedroom, apparently as some sort of game; the woman hadn't harmed Zander so the cooshee followed to see if she wanted to play. None of the bedrooms had doors, merely hanging blankets cutting them off from the common area of the dwelling. Wakuren watched as Djamila carried Zander Quilson past a hanging blanket, the cooshee trailing happily. One doorway over, Suhana carried Thurloe over the threshold to her own sleeping room, while Maheen took a sleeping Xandro into Jazaar's room. Hunter, the serval, sat where he was and watched the proceedings with feline indifference.</p><p></p><p>And then Jazaar sprang up from his sleeping pallet and ran over to Wakuren, placing a powerful right hand over the half-orc's mouth and nose as he tried suffocating the cleric of Cal into unconsciousness, his left arm pinned around Wakuren's windpipe. Wakuren immediately gave up all pretenses of still being asleep and fought back as best he could. Fortunately, Alewyth was there in a heartbeat, <em>Sjondra</em> crashing into Jazaar's back in an effort to get him to release Wakuren.</p><p></p><p>Thurloe awoke from the dreamlands to find himself lying upon a low sleeping pallet large enough for two, with the scabbard holding his bastard sword already on the ground alongside his belt with its housing for his two wands, his <em>torc of the titans</em> off from around his neck, and to see Suhana looming over him, pulling off his magical <em>ring of protection</em>. Xandro awoke to a similar situation, with Maheen removing the items of value from his person and making a nice pile on a folded blanket that had earlier served as the serval's bed. And Zander Quilson had Djamila bending over him as he lay upon her double-sized sleeping pallet while she made an ever-growing pile comprised of his dagger, <em>scout's headband</em>, and magical ring, wand, amulet, and brooch. Worse yet, his trusty cooshee was watching her do this, tail wagging happily as he watched his master's valuables being stolen.</p><p></p><p>Alewyth felt a set of claws rip along the backs of her legs; having concentrated exclusively upon fighting off Jazaar she'd ignored the serval who was now springing into action against his master's attacker. Wakuren managed to extricate himself from Jazaar's clutches and belatedly used his paladin training to detect for evil in the general area; he wasn't the least bit surprised to find out there was indeed evil about. He grabbed up his shield from the floor at his side and crashed it into the side of the desert-dweller's head, spinning him about. But Jazaar took that as an opportunity to attack Alewyth, who was momentarily distracted by the serval's attacks. Jazaar didn't look to be armed, but it felt like a massive slab of heavy wood had just coming crashing down upon her head.</p><p></p><p>Hearing the fight going on in the common area, the sisters decided to press their attacks as well. Djamila grabbed at Zander Quilson but the elf rolled off the far side of the sleeping pallet; sadly, this bought him only a moment's respite before she had caught him up in her arms and pinned him tightly to her body. The elf tried to free himself to no avail, clearly overpowered by a slight human woman not even as tall as himself. But the cooshee, now aware that playtime had somehow ended and this woman, who had only bent over and kissed Zander while he sat in a circle in the other room with his friends before scooping him up and taking him to this other room, was now trying to hurt his master. Barking furiously for her to stop, the elven hound clawed at her with his front paws but failed to get her to release Zander from her crushing grasp. The elf saw black spots before his eyes and realized he was mere moments away from passing out; he couldn't get in any air as she crushed him between her powerful arms.</p><p></p><p>The next room over, Suhana slashed at Thurloe with her own claws and caught him up in a bear hug from which he was surprised to find he could not escape. But then the fighter-wizard was no longer there; having activated his <em>anklet of translocation</em> - an item she hadn't yet gotten around to removing - Thurloe <em>teleported</em> the ten feet to his pile of belongings and scooped up his bastard sword, pulling it from its sheath and aiming it at the slight woman in the desert robes before him. She clawed at him with her fingernails but couldn't get close enough to grapple him in a bear hug with the blade pointed at her.</p><p></p><p>And in Jazaar's room Maheen was likewise crushing Xandro to her as the bard did his best to struggle free from her grasp, to no avail. It was bad enough being bested in a combat of strength, but to fail against a slight woman much smaller than himself just added insult to injury.</p><p></p><p>"He's evil!" Wakuren called out to Alewyth, reporting the results of his ability to detect the evil of a person's aura - which wasn't anything other than what she had supposed in any case. Still, she backed away from combat long enough to cast a <em>magic circle against evil</em> spell upon herself, which only opened her up to more attacks from the damned serval, whose claws didn't cut that deep but certainly left painful scratches on her legs. Wakuren channeled power from his god into his shield and sent it crashing into Jazaar with a smiting attack that briefly made it seem as if the half-orc were fighting a slightly larger creature than the dark-haired human male before him. Concentrating on his foe, Wakuren managed to see the hideous form hidden beneath the <em>veil</em> spell: a bald, warty-skinned humanoid with bandy legs that made the cleric wonder if this Jazaar didn't have some sort of troll's blood in his ancestry or something. Whatever he was, it wasn't the handsome desert human his illusory appearance indicated.</p><p></p><p>But then Jazaar called out a few words in some strange, guttural language none of the heroes spoke as he swung his arms at Wakuren and the half-orc felt the blow against his shield as if it had just been struck by a massive greatclub. But then Alewyth was after him again, swinging <em>Sjondra</em> at his back and sending him crashing into Wakuren's shield. Then Thurloe exited the bedroom he'd awakened in and joined the two clerics in the main room. He moved north towards the front doorway, keeping himself out of combat for a moment while he caught his breath and got his bearings. It sounded like Xandro was struggling behind the curtain leading to Jazaar's room, while the serval scratched at Alewyth while she attacked Jazaar, who was currently engaged in combat with Wakuren.</p><p></p><p>And then three more combatants entered the main room. One of these was Suhana, who had followed Thurloe out of her room but not until after she'd put on his <em>torc of the titans</em> for her own use. The other two figures came from behind a carpet-hung doorway leading to the back of the building, and these were animated skeletons, stooped in posture and with sloping foreheads making them likely the remains of a pair of orcs. They made for Alewyth and Wakuren, scratching with their claws, for they had no weapons or armor that they might have had when still alive. Alewyth stepped away from them and held her holy symbol of Aerik aloft, channeling positive energy through it which shattered the skeletons' bones into shards and dust.</p><p></p><p>Zander Quilson finally succumbed to blessed unconsciousness and was dropped unceremoniously to the floor, while Djamila spun in place and fought back against the elven dog that had refused to stop attacking the human woman trying to hurt his master. Wicked claws slashed at the side of the cooshee, drawing blood. Maheen likewise dropped Xandro Silverstrings into unconsciousness at her feet, where he fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut.</p><p></p><p>Wakuren finally slew Jazaar with a side-swipe of his shield, whose edge caught the cleric's foe in the throat. At about the same time, Thurloe brought his bastard sword's blade crashing into Maheen as she stepped out of Jazaar's room, and the blade's anti-illusion abilities carved right through the woman's <em>veil</em> spell, revealing Maheen's true form: she was no slight desert woman but rather an 8-foot-tall crone with a stooped posture - a dune hag. She snarled in pain and irritation at her true form being revealed. But then Suhana rushed up and attacked Thurloe from the other side, using his magical torc to increase the power of her strikes and the damage they did. Seeing the jig was up, she released the illusion covering her, revealing herself to be no more a human woman than her other sisters were - this was a coven of three dune hags, and Jazaar wasn't their brother but the hagspawn son of Maheen.</p><p></p><p>The cooshee kept up its attacks against Djamila, even managing to trip her and knock her prone, but its valiant efforts were eventually fruitless, for the dune hag coven leader managed to get back up to her feet and rip out the poor elven dog's throat with her wicked claws. Fortunately, while this slew the cooshee outright, all it really did was force it back into its statuette form, from which it could be resummoned to life another day. But now, looking down and seeing Zander Quilson lying still bleeding on the floor, she stormed out of her bedroom to aid her sisters.</p><p></p><p>Thurloe, by this time, had taken quite a bit of damage from the two hags he'd been fighting and decided he no longer wanted to be in the middle of a dune hag sandwich, so he broke off from combat and rushed to the south end of the room to get a moment's respite (and hopefully find enough time to guzzle down a healing potion). Wakuren, well aware that Djamila had carried Zander into her room and worried that she had now reappeared without him, rushed into her bedroom while she moved over to harry Thurloe (who wasn't getting the breather he had hoped for, as he belatedly realized his belt with the potions on it were still back on the floor in Suhana's room). There the half-orc found Zander bleeding on the floor and administered a <em>cure serious wounds</em> spell on the wounded elf, sealing up the worst of his cuts. Zander stirred and sat up and that was good enough for Wakuren, who rushed back out into the main room, shield raised before him.</p><p></p><p>Alewyth had made a similar realization about Xandro and had entered Jazaar's room, taking an attack from Maheen to do so. She ignored her own wounds - she was, after all, still standing, unlike Xandro - and cast a <em>cure serious wounds</em> spell on the unconscious bard. Then she had no further time to focus upon him, for Maheen had followed her into the hagspawn's bedroom and was attacking her with teeth and claws. On the one hand it was always better to see what you were actually up against, Alewyth thought to herself, but she greatly preferred the illusions of the beautiful human women they had been greeted with upon first entering this coven-space. By the gods, these hags were ugly!</p><p></p><p>Alewyth was surprised to see the serval hadn't forgotten about her, either, as it followed her into the bedroom and slashed out at her with its claws. She took a long-overdue moment away from combat with Maheen to deal with this troublesome threat, and after a single bash from <em>Sjondra</em> crushed in the desert cat's skull she no longer had it to worry about.</p><p></p><p>Thurloe was holding his own against Djamila when Zander exited the room. He cast a <em>scorching ray</em> spell at the dune hag but missed, his gout of fire striking instead the hardened wall of sunbaked mud of the building's structure. But Wakuren was there, attacking Djamila from behind with his shield while her focus was upon Thurloe. While Maheen continued her attacks upon Alewyth, Suhana broke ranks to go chase down Zander, for she wanted no truck with an arcane spellcaster in their midst, flinging attack spells around willy-nilly.</p><p></p><p>And then Maheen felt an attack from an unexpected direction: Alewyth's spell of healing had revived Xandro and he had grabbed up his <em>frost short sword</em> and stabbed it up at her kidney from a near-prone position on the floor; she hadn't even been aware of the bard's return to consciousness.</p><p></p><p>Djamila was the first of the dune hags to fall, slain by a blow to the head from the edge of Wakuren's shield. Thurloe, bleeding from a dozen gashes by this time, had used his magical anklet to <em>dimension door</em> out of range of the coven leader's wicked claws and when she had spun about looking for her erstwhile prey the half-orc had let her have it. She fell lifelessly to the stone floor. Zander cast a <em>haste</em> spell on the group of heroes, figuring the extra speed it granted would hopefully give the heroes the edge they needed against these powerful hags, for it was taking their all to have gotten this far, dropping the hagspawn and one of the trio of dune hags. Most of the heroes were just about on their last legs themselves.</p><p></p><p>Maheen continued her attacks upon Alewyth while Suhana concentrated on Wakuren, the vile half-breed who had taken out their leader. But Maheen had more than the dwarven priestess to worry about and it was Xandro who finally slew her with his magic sword. At the same moment he saw her drop to the floor he spun to gather up the rest of the items she had taken from him while he'd been sleeping, attempting to awaken what they had thought was a brother to the three human sisters who lived here.</p><p></p><p>Alewyth rushed to Wakuren's side and added her hammer to his shield as they both pressed the attack against the sole remaining hag, Suhana. Zander cast a <em>magic missile</em> spell directly at the dune hag and was surprised to see it fizzle out when it reached her; she must have some sort of inherent spell resistance, he figured. Thurloe opted to stay out of this combat and limped back over to Suhana's bedroom where his pile of belongings had been stripped from him, eager to fetch one of his healing potions before anything else - although regaining his <em>torc of the titans</em> was a top priority once he felt he wasn't about to fall over at any moment.</p><p></p><p>The current wearer of the torc, Suhana, slashed at Wakuren with her claws, but the half-orc managed to deflect the attack with his shield. Then Xandro entered the battle against her, all of his gear back in place; he stabbed at the remaining dune hag with his <em>frost short sword</em> and she recognized the magic weapon as dangerous enough for her to give it special heed; unfortunately, that meant dropping her guard against Wakuren slightly and the cleric of Cal took full advantage of her distraction, cutting her down as he'd slain Djamila and the hagspawn Jazaar.</p><p></p><p>And with that, combat was concluded and the heroes all took a moment to catch their breath.</p><p></p><p>After Thurloe and Zander recovered the items that had been taken from them, the five gave the whole dwelling a good looking over. There was a bit of treasure in the bedrooms - including a magical gauntlet with the holy symbol of Cal carved on the back, no doubt taken from someone of Cal's faith who had had the misfortune of crossing paths with the dune hag coven earlier, and which Wakuren swore to put to good use in the further service of his deity - but the back third of the building was horrific. They got a preview of the hags' intentions for them, for hanging in the larder on a nasty metal hook was the upper half of a slain desert orc, missing one arm and everything below the waist; apparently he was their current source of meat and the heroes would have merely added to their future stores.</p><p></p><p>"Speaking of which, where's that orc from the dream?" asked Xandro. "He's got to be around here somewhere."</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, and how exactly did we end up in his dream instead of Jazaar's?" Zander asked. "How did they even know to fake him being asleep?"</p><p></p><p>"Hag stone," answered Thurloe, whose magical studies had included details about other creatures who used magic for their own purposes. "That ruby Djamila wore around her neck? It let the others see and hear whatever she did. So when we showed up, explaining why we were here..."</p><p></p><p>"And giving them a heads-up that we were going to all fall asleep right there in their house in front of them!" gasped Alewyth as the realization sunk in.</p><p></p><p>"Yeah," agreed Thurloe. "Too good a deal to pass up. But c'mon - we've searched the house, let's go see what's in those two domes outside."</p><p></p><p>The first dome was a hollow structure covering a sloping natural ramp leading down into darkness. There was the sound of running water coming from below, so Zander activated his <em>scout's headband</em> and gave himself darkvision. He could see two piles of vegetation on a ledge just before an underground stream, each with a pair of small boulders nearby, but not seeing anything worth taking he decided not to explore the area - best to leave it for the morning, when they'd all had a chance to heal up.</p><p></p><p>The other dome had no opening on its side, so Xandro stripped off his extraneous gear and went running at it, scrambling to the top where sure enough there was a hole in the center of the roof. Peering down inside, he saw the prone form of a desert orc raider. It was too dark for him to make out much in the way of details, but the bard was fairly certain he'd discovered the source of the dream of the giant caterpillar. But he too would wait until the next day; the group decided to spend the night in the hags' dwelling (after dragging their bodies far enough away from the building that the inevitable desert scavengers wouldn't bother the heroes overnight), bringing their animals inside and blocking the entrance with their overturned wagon. (Thurloe's <em>anklet of translocation</em> came in handy for getting back inside after moving it into position from the outside.)</p><p></p><p>The next morning, they used Wakuren's <em>rope of climbing</em> to climb down to fetch the orcish dreamer, pulling him up and out of the dome and carrying him into the hags' dwelling. Then, with the cooshee once again performing guard duty, they securely bound the orc and performed the ritual to enter his dream. They once again found themselves in a desert wasteland with a massive caterpillar, but this time their dreamstones worked as normal to weaken the giant beast and it fell quickly to their weapons and spells. The orc was surprised at the aid he'd been given in slaying the hungry larva, but the dream dissolved around him before he could express any gratitude.</p><p></p><p>All six woke up at about the same time, the orc struggling briefly to escape his bindings but giving up when it was apparent he wasn't going to get anywhere - and there were five armed people sitting in a ring around him. Wakuren pulled the orc to a sitting position and the bound captive spoke a few words in his own language.</p><p></p><p>"Sorry, I don't speak any of the Orcish tongue," Wakuren replied in Common; having been dropped off anonymously at the Temple of Cal as a baby by his human mother, he had never had the opportunity to learn his unknown father's language. "Do you speak Common?"</p><p></p><p>"Some," replied the orc.</p><p></p><p>"Well good," interjected Thurloe, squatting down before the bound orc. "So, we're not a big fan of orc raiders - ran into about a dozen of them a few days ago and slew them after they attacked us. But we don't have any particular beef against you" - and here he looked over to Wakuren, who nodded that he had detected the taint of evil in the orc's aura - "so we're going to give you a chance at walking out of here alive." The orc looked straight at Thurloe, obviously eager to hear more.</p><p></p><p>"We're gonna untie you," Thurloe continued, indicating it was okay for Alewyth to start to do so. "We're not gonna give you any weapons - no point in taking any chances, I'm sure you'll understand - but we will give you a waterskin and let you fill it up so you'll have a chance of making it back to your people alive." Alewyth removed the last of his bindings and everyone backed off as he stood up, rubbing his wrists. Xandro tossed him an empty waterskin, one of the things they'd found in the hags' dwelling the day before. Then, surrounded by five wary foes with weapons drawn and ready for immediate use, the orc was allowed to walk outside to the first of the two domes.</p><p></p><p>"Off you go, then," Thurloe prompted, emphasizing it with the point of his bastard sword. The orc started warily down the sloping stone ramp. Alewyth and Wakuren watched his progress with their darkvision. As the orc approached the underground stream, the two piles of rotting vegetation rose up and took vaguely humanoid forms, as the four small "boulders" rose up into the air, tails unfurling behind them. Then the shambling mounds attacked the unarmed orc while the hovering volts stabbed out with the tips of their electrical tails. The orc didn't last long against the half-dozen enemies.</p><p></p><p>"Well, that explains that," Thurloe observed. "Lair guardians for the hags' source of water."</p><p></p><p>"Do we want to go take them out?" asked Alewyth, <em>Sjondra</em> gripped in hand.</p><p></p><p>"See any treasure down there?" Thurloe asked.</p><p></p><p>"Nope," replied Alewyth and Wakuren in unison.</p><p></p><p>"Then nope," replied Thurloe, turning away from the sloping entrance to the underground stream. "Let's get out of here and back to some sort of civilization."</p><p></p><p>"It'll be another two days of riding through the desert to get to the next town," Wakuren reminded the group at large.</p><p></p><p>"Ugh!" grumbled Thurloe. "That's gonna suck!"</p><p></p><p> - - -</p><p></p><p>I threw the Large monstrous scorpion encounter into the mix at the last moment, figuring the players would appreciate a "warm-up" combat to help them get readjusted to running these PCs, as we've been temporarily on hold for two months. And that turned out to be just about right; we finished this game session after about three and a half hours - not too much sitting at one stretch for our player recovering from surgery.</p><p></p><p>The <em>gauntlet of Cal</em> is an item I created specifically for Wakuren, who had no "traditional" weapons (on purpose): it allows the wielder (who must be a follower of Cal) to call forth three <em>javelins of lightning</em> per day, which is fairly thematically appropriate given Cal's primary domains include Air as well as Healing.</p><p></p><p> - - -</p><p></p><p>T-shirt worn: My "Moore-Hanes Family Reunion" T-shirt, since the three desert hags and the hagspawn son of one of them formed a family out there in the Centralia Desert. (A thoroughly evil family, but still.)</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 8628037, member: 508"] [B]ADVENTURE 28: DESERT DREAMS[/B] PC Roster: [INDENT]Alewyth Putterpye, dwarf priestess of Aerik 6[/INDENT] [INDENT] Thurloe Pulver, human fighter 3/wizard 3[/INDENT] [INDENT] Wakuren, half-orc cleric of Cal 3/paladin 3[/INDENT] [INDENT] Xandro Silverstrings, human bard 5/rogue 1[/INDENT] [INDENT] Zander Quilson, elf sorcerer 6[/INDENT] Game Session Date: 30 April 2022 - - - "This sucks," remarked Thurloe from his perch in Horse's saddle. "The next dreamer happens to be in the middle of the Centralia Desert," commented Wakuren, sitting in his customary seat in the wagon, the reins to both mules in his hands. "And if you'll recall, I did offer to cast an [I]endure elements[/I] spell on you," the half-orc reminded Thurloe. He, Alewyth, and Xandro had all had the spell cast upon them, keeping them relatively comfortable in the heat of the burning sun - so much so they still wore their armor. Zander Quilson had eschewed the spell as he wore no armor, merely robes - and opted to keep the hood of his robe over his head to protect him from sunburn. Thurloe had opted instead to do without his armor, which he had stashed in the back of the wagon. He'd also insisted he didn't need an [I]endure elements[/I] spell and his attitude at the time had strongly hinted the others were somewhat weak in relying upon spellpower for mere comfort. Now he wiped sweat from his brow with a rag for the umpteenth time that morning. Wakuren was pretty sure it was merely pure stubbornness and a refusal to admit he'd been wrong preventing Thurloe from asking for an [I]endure elements[/I] spell to be cast upon him. Either that or he didn't want to look weaker than Zander, who seemed to be doing just fine without it. Thurloe said nothing but just grunted in irritation, making another pass across the back of his neck with his rag. Then there was a sudden bit of movement off to their left and before Zander could warn the others a black-armored scorpion larger than any of their horses skittered up from between a clump of low cactus plants, its pincer-claws open wide for an attack. It was aiming either for Alewyth on her dire goat mount, Pyrite, or the left-most of the mules, Perseverance. As the dwarven priestess urged her goat forward out of range, Zander cast a [I]haste[/I] spell upon the five heroes and Thurloe's horse, figuring of the various mounts Thurloe's was the one most likely to be brought directly into battle against the monstrous scorpion. Alewyth cast a spell of her own once Pyrite was out of immediate danger and a [I]spiritual warhammer[/I] appeared in the air above her head, hovered for a brief moment, and then went streaking over to strike the scorpion's hardened carapace. Thurloe cast a quick [I]mage armor[/I] spell on himself to take the place of his own armor and pulled the bastard sword from its sheath on his back. Unnoticed, the rag he'd been using to wipe away sweat fell from his hand and fluttered to the hard-packed dirt of the desert as he spurred Horse around the wagon and positioned him for a charge into battle. The scorpion's claws snapped shut near Perseverance's left rear leg, but Wakuren had steered the mules away to the right and the claw missed its target. Zander pulled back on Eddy's reins so he wouldn't be struck by the mule-wagon as it crossed directly in front of them, then sent a [I]magic missile[/I] spell darting over the back of the wagon to strike the scorpion at the base of its venomous tail, already raised to strike. Then Alewyth leaped down from her mount and raced across the desert sands with a speed greatly enhanced by Zander's [I]haste[/I] spell, to bring [I]Sjondra[/I] crashing into the arachnid's left legs. She felt one of them snap under the force of her blow, then her [I]spiritual weapon[/I] slammed down upon its back with another strike. But it was Thurloe, charging in upon Horse from the other side of the scorpion, who slew it with a blow from his bastard sword. The heavy body crashed to the ground, the venom-dripping tail stinger not having been able to be brought to bear even once. "Everybody okay?" Wakuren asked. Alewyth returned to Pyrite's saddle as her [I]spiritual warhammer[/I] winked back out of existence. Thurloe wiped the arachnid's ichor off his blade and resheathed it. "How much longer you figure it is to the dreamer?" he asked. They'd been traveling through the desert for two days now and he had seen enough hard-packed earth and scraggly cactus plants for a lifetime. "Probably no more than a couple of hours," guessed Wakuren, steering the mules back into the direction they'd been traveling before the sudden ambush. The others assembled back into their standard formation. "This sucks," repeated Thurloe, his opinion of the situation not having changed any by the scorpion's attack. But in another two hours they saw the first signs of habitation they'd seen for the last couple of days: a thin line of smoke rising up into the desert sky. "I'll bet that's it up ahead," hazarded Wakuren, hoping to get Thurloe out of his grumpiness. "Better be," the fighter-wizard grumbled. As they approached, they saw the smoke rose from the chimney of a dwelling made of hard-packed mud, a large, rectangular building with the corners rounded off. There were two hemispherical structures off to the right of the building, each about 20 feet in diameter, but Wakuren's attention was caught by the woman who had stepped outside upon their approach. She was human, wearing a cloth garment covering her entire body, with a wrapping over her head that looked to be a long scarf wound into a loose turban of some sort. She was unarmed but looked suspiciously at the approaching group - and focused fearfully upon the half-orc exclusively once she got a good look at him. Wakuren wasn't offended, having spent his whole life with people judging him by his fearsome appearance. So he brought his favorite weapon to bear, flashing a wide smile that showed a bit of teeth but none of his small tusks, while raising both hands to show he was unarmed. "Good afternoon," he said, beaming. "We have come because we believe there is someone trapped in their dreams here - and we have a means to help them." "How--?" stammered the woman. "How did you know?" "Then there is someone here asleep? And unable to be awakened?" asked Alewyth. "There is, yes - my brother, [B]Jazaar[/B]. But forgive me. My name is [B]Djamila[/B]. You look like you have traveled far. Please, come in - I offer you the hospitality of our home." She pulled aside the rug hanging over the sole doorway into her mud-baked home. "Please enter, and my sisters will fetch you fresh water and cactus fruit before you try to wake our brother." Alewyth entered the dwelling, noting the floor was stone, recently swept. She didn't fail to notice the four spears leaning against the wall near the entryway, a handy form of defense against intruders (although she absently wondered if they were so concerned about intruders why they didn't have a proper door instead of just a hanging carpet to keep out the blowing sand and dust). The others followed after ensuring the reins of their various mounts were tied to the wagon so they wouldn't wander about. Wakuren was the last to enter the dwelling, bowing low to Djamila in an effort to show even half-breed orcs could be trained to have good manners. Once inside, Djamila introduced her two sisters, [B]Maheen[/B] and [B]Suhana[/B], while Alewyth likewise introduced the members of her own small band. Suhana passed around a plate of cactus fruit while Maheen served the heroes drinking horns of water poured from a large gourd. Once their guests had been properly refreshed, Djamila began her tale. "There is not much to tell," she admitted. "One morning, several weeks ago, Jazaar could not be awakened from his sleeping pallet. We did everything we could to awaken him, but nothing worked. And yet, he does not seem to suffer from loss of food or lack or water and he does not waste away as we would have thought. We have no explanation for how this came to be, unless it is some sort of magical curse. So tell me, how can you awaken him?" Alewyth explained the ritual they had performed with much success many times over the past few months. Djamila feared there was not enough space in Jazaar's room for them to all sit around him and had her sisters push the tables and pillows (used to sit upon in place of chairs) in the communal room up against the walls so Wakuren and Thurloe could lift Jazaar's sleeping pallet from his bedroom into the larger living space. Jazaar's pet serval, [B]Hunter[/B], padded along, curious as to what these strangers were doing with his master. "Is there anything we can do to assist?" Djamila asked. Alewyth handed her a dreamstone and a leather headband and had her tie it around her brother's forehead, while the dreamwalkers all did likewise with their own dreamstone headbands. Zander activated his [I]jade cooshee[/I] and had him stand guard over the five as they slept, and Djamila and her sisters agreed to ensure the dreamwalkers were not interrupted during the ritual. "With any luck, all six of us will be waking up together," Wakuren told the sisters before closing his eyes and slowing his breathing as he performed the mental rituals to prepare his body for sleep. As always, it took everyone several minutes to all fall asleep and join back up together in the Dreamlands - led by their individual moogle guides, who took them to the Hall of Dreams where Mogo repositioned the hallways of endless doors until he came to the relevant one. "Here's the dream you're looking for - good luck, kupo!" he told the group as they opened the dream-door and stepped inside the dreamscape. The dream looked very much like the desert outside, save for the lack of cacti and the strange, purple-and-lavender-streaked sky. But there was movement directly ahead in the almost featureless landscape, a wriggling mass that became apparent as an enormous, brown caterpillar some 40 feet long. Its pliant body undulated as its many legs skittered it across the desert wasteland. Alewyth looked around. "I don't see Jazaar anywhere," she observed. "Neither do I," agreed Xandro. "Maybe the bug got him." Alewyth raised the second dreamstone she held in her hand back on the Mortal Plane - and thus had with her here in the Dreamlands. Holding it before her as she would her holy symbol of Aerik had she been trying to turn undead before her, she channeled her will through it in an attempt to weaken the monster-worm. At her side, Wakuren raised his own dreamstone and followed suit. "Does it seem to be doing anything?" asked the half-orc. "Doesn't look like it," admitted Alewyth. Zander looked worriedly at the size of the approaching caterpillar and cast a [I]mage armor[/I] spell upon himself. "This is stupid," grumbled Thurloe. "How are we supposed--" His complaining came to an abrupt halt when he saw the creature's side bulge out and a blade emerge from its rubbery skin. The blade became a falchion, gripped in a strong hand covered in blood and gore. "Never mind," Thurloe amended. "I assume that's Jazaar there." He held out his dreamstone and tried using it to "home in" on Jazaar, with no effect. The arm holding the falchion completely emerged from the gash it had cut through the side of the caterpillar's body, followed quickly by a long-haired head and a powerful, muscular body clad in mismatched hides. The figure was covered in blood, presumably that of the monster worm he'd just cut his way out of. "Not unless Jazaar's an orc," observed Zander, for the figure spinning about to face the great caterpillar was undoubtedly a member of a desert orcish tribe of raiders - much like the members they'd encountered just days ago. But while this fellow could have easily passed as a member of the horse-riding raiders they'd fought, none of the dreamwalkers could identify him as anyone they'd seen before - and as far as they knew only one of the orc raiders had survived the attack upon Morisar Nemertel after the heroes had helped save him from the attack of a giant banded lizard. This orc was definitely not the one they'd encountered earlier. But then the caterpillar spun the front half of its body around, opened its mouthparts, and swallowed the orc up again before he had an opportunity to bring his weapon to bear against it. Just that quickly, it was just the five dreamwalkers and the giant caterpillar alone in the desert wasteland. And as for the caterpillar, having eaten its meal again, it continued crawling forward in the same direction it had been going, ignoring the five armed figures before it. "What's going on?" Zander asked. Then he put a hand to his head as if experiencing a sudden headache. "Are you okay?" asked Alewyth, watching Zander wince in confusion. Then she noticed Thurloe and Xandro doing the same. "Guys? What's up?" "Nothing much," the bard answered. "Just felt like something tried contacting me mentally or something." He looked suspiciously over at the caterpillar but it was steadfastly ignoring the group. Then a gash erupted on its other side and once again the orc cut his way out to a moment's freedom before being swallowed back up again. Xandro and Zander Quilson each winced again, putting a hand to their foreheads. "Something's affecting the three of them, but not us," Wakuren observed, looking at Alewyth. "I haven't felt anything. You?" "Nothing," answered Alewyth. "Maybe the fact that we're clerics?" she guessed. But Wakuren saw a possible answer to the questions of why there was no Jazaar in the dream, why the giant caterpillar was ignoring them completely and didn't seem to be affected by their attempts to weaken it with their dreamstones, and why Thurloe, Xandro, and Zander - the three best-looking males among the visitors to the three sisters' home - were somehow being affected by some outside factor. "We're in the wrong dream!" Wakuren deduced. "The sisters are doing something to the others while they're sleeping! Everyone, as fast as you can--wake up!" "But the cooshee's guarding over us!" argued Zander, but it was too late - Wakuren had already woken himself up and had disappeared from the dreamscape. As the elf sorcerer looked, Alewyth vanished as well. Well, he might as well join them.... Wakuren woke up in the same position he'd been in when he fell asleep at the beginning of the ritual: sitting upright in the lotus position the moogles had taught them was most conducive to lucid dreaming, with his hands resting upon his knees. The crafty half-orc gave no indication he had woken up, peering cautiously from between mostly-closed eyes. He saw Alewyth sitting cross-legged across from her, [I]Sjondra[/I] sitting by her side; she was following his lead and giving no outward indication that she was anything but fast asleep. But the two clerics were the only dreamwalkers still sitting around Jazaar's sleeping pallet, for the three desert women had each lifted up their own personal target - Djamila carrying Zander, Maheen lifting Xandro, and Suhana cradling Thurloe - and were carrying them off to separate rooms as if the grown men weighed no more than small children. The elven dog, tail wagging furiously in delight, followed Djamila as she carried his master off to her bedroom, apparently as some sort of game; the woman hadn't harmed Zander so the cooshee followed to see if she wanted to play. None of the bedrooms had doors, merely hanging blankets cutting them off from the common area of the dwelling. Wakuren watched as Djamila carried Zander Quilson past a hanging blanket, the cooshee trailing happily. One doorway over, Suhana carried Thurloe over the threshold to her own sleeping room, while Maheen took a sleeping Xandro into Jazaar's room. Hunter, the serval, sat where he was and watched the proceedings with feline indifference. And then Jazaar sprang up from his sleeping pallet and ran over to Wakuren, placing a powerful right hand over the half-orc's mouth and nose as he tried suffocating the cleric of Cal into unconsciousness, his left arm pinned around Wakuren's windpipe. Wakuren immediately gave up all pretenses of still being asleep and fought back as best he could. Fortunately, Alewyth was there in a heartbeat, [I]Sjondra[/I] crashing into Jazaar's back in an effort to get him to release Wakuren. Thurloe awoke from the dreamlands to find himself lying upon a low sleeping pallet large enough for two, with the scabbard holding his bastard sword already on the ground alongside his belt with its housing for his two wands, his [I]torc of the titans[/I] off from around his neck, and to see Suhana looming over him, pulling off his magical [I]ring of protection[/I]. Xandro awoke to a similar situation, with Maheen removing the items of value from his person and making a nice pile on a folded blanket that had earlier served as the serval's bed. And Zander Quilson had Djamila bending over him as he lay upon her double-sized sleeping pallet while she made an ever-growing pile comprised of his dagger, [I]scout's headband[/I], and magical ring, wand, amulet, and brooch. Worse yet, his trusty cooshee was watching her do this, tail wagging happily as he watched his master's valuables being stolen. Alewyth felt a set of claws rip along the backs of her legs; having concentrated exclusively upon fighting off Jazaar she'd ignored the serval who was now springing into action against his master's attacker. Wakuren managed to extricate himself from Jazaar's clutches and belatedly used his paladin training to detect for evil in the general area; he wasn't the least bit surprised to find out there was indeed evil about. He grabbed up his shield from the floor at his side and crashed it into the side of the desert-dweller's head, spinning him about. But Jazaar took that as an opportunity to attack Alewyth, who was momentarily distracted by the serval's attacks. Jazaar didn't look to be armed, but it felt like a massive slab of heavy wood had just coming crashing down upon her head. Hearing the fight going on in the common area, the sisters decided to press their attacks as well. Djamila grabbed at Zander Quilson but the elf rolled off the far side of the sleeping pallet; sadly, this bought him only a moment's respite before she had caught him up in her arms and pinned him tightly to her body. The elf tried to free himself to no avail, clearly overpowered by a slight human woman not even as tall as himself. But the cooshee, now aware that playtime had somehow ended and this woman, who had only bent over and kissed Zander while he sat in a circle in the other room with his friends before scooping him up and taking him to this other room, was now trying to hurt his master. Barking furiously for her to stop, the elven hound clawed at her with his front paws but failed to get her to release Zander from her crushing grasp. The elf saw black spots before his eyes and realized he was mere moments away from passing out; he couldn't get in any air as she crushed him between her powerful arms. The next room over, Suhana slashed at Thurloe with her own claws and caught him up in a bear hug from which he was surprised to find he could not escape. But then the fighter-wizard was no longer there; having activated his [I]anklet of translocation[/I] - an item she hadn't yet gotten around to removing - Thurloe [I]teleported[/I] the ten feet to his pile of belongings and scooped up his bastard sword, pulling it from its sheath and aiming it at the slight woman in the desert robes before him. She clawed at him with her fingernails but couldn't get close enough to grapple him in a bear hug with the blade pointed at her. And in Jazaar's room Maheen was likewise crushing Xandro to her as the bard did his best to struggle free from her grasp, to no avail. It was bad enough being bested in a combat of strength, but to fail against a slight woman much smaller than himself just added insult to injury. "He's evil!" Wakuren called out to Alewyth, reporting the results of his ability to detect the evil of a person's aura - which wasn't anything other than what she had supposed in any case. Still, she backed away from combat long enough to cast a [I]magic circle against evil[/I] spell upon herself, which only opened her up to more attacks from the damned serval, whose claws didn't cut that deep but certainly left painful scratches on her legs. Wakuren channeled power from his god into his shield and sent it crashing into Jazaar with a smiting attack that briefly made it seem as if the half-orc were fighting a slightly larger creature than the dark-haired human male before him. Concentrating on his foe, Wakuren managed to see the hideous form hidden beneath the [I]veil[/I] spell: a bald, warty-skinned humanoid with bandy legs that made the cleric wonder if this Jazaar didn't have some sort of troll's blood in his ancestry or something. Whatever he was, it wasn't the handsome desert human his illusory appearance indicated. But then Jazaar called out a few words in some strange, guttural language none of the heroes spoke as he swung his arms at Wakuren and the half-orc felt the blow against his shield as if it had just been struck by a massive greatclub. But then Alewyth was after him again, swinging [I]Sjondra[/I] at his back and sending him crashing into Wakuren's shield. Then Thurloe exited the bedroom he'd awakened in and joined the two clerics in the main room. He moved north towards the front doorway, keeping himself out of combat for a moment while he caught his breath and got his bearings. It sounded like Xandro was struggling behind the curtain leading to Jazaar's room, while the serval scratched at Alewyth while she attacked Jazaar, who was currently engaged in combat with Wakuren. And then three more combatants entered the main room. One of these was Suhana, who had followed Thurloe out of her room but not until after she'd put on his [I]torc of the titans[/I] for her own use. The other two figures came from behind a carpet-hung doorway leading to the back of the building, and these were animated skeletons, stooped in posture and with sloping foreheads making them likely the remains of a pair of orcs. They made for Alewyth and Wakuren, scratching with their claws, for they had no weapons or armor that they might have had when still alive. Alewyth stepped away from them and held her holy symbol of Aerik aloft, channeling positive energy through it which shattered the skeletons' bones into shards and dust. Zander Quilson finally succumbed to blessed unconsciousness and was dropped unceremoniously to the floor, while Djamila spun in place and fought back against the elven dog that had refused to stop attacking the human woman trying to hurt his master. Wicked claws slashed at the side of the cooshee, drawing blood. Maheen likewise dropped Xandro Silverstrings into unconsciousness at her feet, where he fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Wakuren finally slew Jazaar with a side-swipe of his shield, whose edge caught the cleric's foe in the throat. At about the same time, Thurloe brought his bastard sword's blade crashing into Maheen as she stepped out of Jazaar's room, and the blade's anti-illusion abilities carved right through the woman's [I]veil[/I] spell, revealing Maheen's true form: she was no slight desert woman but rather an 8-foot-tall crone with a stooped posture - a dune hag. She snarled in pain and irritation at her true form being revealed. But then Suhana rushed up and attacked Thurloe from the other side, using his magical torc to increase the power of her strikes and the damage they did. Seeing the jig was up, she released the illusion covering her, revealing herself to be no more a human woman than her other sisters were - this was a coven of three dune hags, and Jazaar wasn't their brother but the hagspawn son of Maheen. The cooshee kept up its attacks against Djamila, even managing to trip her and knock her prone, but its valiant efforts were eventually fruitless, for the dune hag coven leader managed to get back up to her feet and rip out the poor elven dog's throat with her wicked claws. Fortunately, while this slew the cooshee outright, all it really did was force it back into its statuette form, from which it could be resummoned to life another day. But now, looking down and seeing Zander Quilson lying still bleeding on the floor, she stormed out of her bedroom to aid her sisters. Thurloe, by this time, had taken quite a bit of damage from the two hags he'd been fighting and decided he no longer wanted to be in the middle of a dune hag sandwich, so he broke off from combat and rushed to the south end of the room to get a moment's respite (and hopefully find enough time to guzzle down a healing potion). Wakuren, well aware that Djamila had carried Zander into her room and worried that she had now reappeared without him, rushed into her bedroom while she moved over to harry Thurloe (who wasn't getting the breather he had hoped for, as he belatedly realized his belt with the potions on it were still back on the floor in Suhana's room). There the half-orc found Zander bleeding on the floor and administered a [I]cure serious wounds[/I] spell on the wounded elf, sealing up the worst of his cuts. Zander stirred and sat up and that was good enough for Wakuren, who rushed back out into the main room, shield raised before him. Alewyth had made a similar realization about Xandro and had entered Jazaar's room, taking an attack from Maheen to do so. She ignored her own wounds - she was, after all, still standing, unlike Xandro - and cast a [I]cure serious wounds[/I] spell on the unconscious bard. Then she had no further time to focus upon him, for Maheen had followed her into the hagspawn's bedroom and was attacking her with teeth and claws. On the one hand it was always better to see what you were actually up against, Alewyth thought to herself, but she greatly preferred the illusions of the beautiful human women they had been greeted with upon first entering this coven-space. By the gods, these hags were ugly! Alewyth was surprised to see the serval hadn't forgotten about her, either, as it followed her into the bedroom and slashed out at her with its claws. She took a long-overdue moment away from combat with Maheen to deal with this troublesome threat, and after a single bash from [I]Sjondra[/I] crushed in the desert cat's skull she no longer had it to worry about. Thurloe was holding his own against Djamila when Zander exited the room. He cast a [I]scorching ray[/I] spell at the dune hag but missed, his gout of fire striking instead the hardened wall of sunbaked mud of the building's structure. But Wakuren was there, attacking Djamila from behind with his shield while her focus was upon Thurloe. While Maheen continued her attacks upon Alewyth, Suhana broke ranks to go chase down Zander, for she wanted no truck with an arcane spellcaster in their midst, flinging attack spells around willy-nilly. And then Maheen felt an attack from an unexpected direction: Alewyth's spell of healing had revived Xandro and he had grabbed up his [I]frost short sword[/I] and stabbed it up at her kidney from a near-prone position on the floor; she hadn't even been aware of the bard's return to consciousness. Djamila was the first of the dune hags to fall, slain by a blow to the head from the edge of Wakuren's shield. Thurloe, bleeding from a dozen gashes by this time, had used his magical anklet to [I]dimension door[/I] out of range of the coven leader's wicked claws and when she had spun about looking for her erstwhile prey the half-orc had let her have it. She fell lifelessly to the stone floor. Zander cast a [I]haste[/I] spell on the group of heroes, figuring the extra speed it granted would hopefully give the heroes the edge they needed against these powerful hags, for it was taking their all to have gotten this far, dropping the hagspawn and one of the trio of dune hags. Most of the heroes were just about on their last legs themselves. Maheen continued her attacks upon Alewyth while Suhana concentrated on Wakuren, the vile half-breed who had taken out their leader. But Maheen had more than the dwarven priestess to worry about and it was Xandro who finally slew her with his magic sword. At the same moment he saw her drop to the floor he spun to gather up the rest of the items she had taken from him while he'd been sleeping, attempting to awaken what they had thought was a brother to the three human sisters who lived here. Alewyth rushed to Wakuren's side and added her hammer to his shield as they both pressed the attack against the sole remaining hag, Suhana. Zander cast a [I]magic missile[/I] spell directly at the dune hag and was surprised to see it fizzle out when it reached her; she must have some sort of inherent spell resistance, he figured. Thurloe opted to stay out of this combat and limped back over to Suhana's bedroom where his pile of belongings had been stripped from him, eager to fetch one of his healing potions before anything else - although regaining his [I]torc of the titans[/I] was a top priority once he felt he wasn't about to fall over at any moment. The current wearer of the torc, Suhana, slashed at Wakuren with her claws, but the half-orc managed to deflect the attack with his shield. Then Xandro entered the battle against her, all of his gear back in place; he stabbed at the remaining dune hag with his [I]frost short sword[/I] and she recognized the magic weapon as dangerous enough for her to give it special heed; unfortunately, that meant dropping her guard against Wakuren slightly and the cleric of Cal took full advantage of her distraction, cutting her down as he'd slain Djamila and the hagspawn Jazaar. And with that, combat was concluded and the heroes all took a moment to catch their breath. After Thurloe and Zander recovered the items that had been taken from them, the five gave the whole dwelling a good looking over. There was a bit of treasure in the bedrooms - including a magical gauntlet with the holy symbol of Cal carved on the back, no doubt taken from someone of Cal's faith who had had the misfortune of crossing paths with the dune hag coven earlier, and which Wakuren swore to put to good use in the further service of his deity - but the back third of the building was horrific. They got a preview of the hags' intentions for them, for hanging in the larder on a nasty metal hook was the upper half of a slain desert orc, missing one arm and everything below the waist; apparently he was their current source of meat and the heroes would have merely added to their future stores. "Speaking of which, where's that orc from the dream?" asked Xandro. "He's got to be around here somewhere." "Yeah, and how exactly did we end up in his dream instead of Jazaar's?" Zander asked. "How did they even know to fake him being asleep?" "Hag stone," answered Thurloe, whose magical studies had included details about other creatures who used magic for their own purposes. "That ruby Djamila wore around her neck? It let the others see and hear whatever she did. So when we showed up, explaining why we were here..." "And giving them a heads-up that we were going to all fall asleep right there in their house in front of them!" gasped Alewyth as the realization sunk in. "Yeah," agreed Thurloe. "Too good a deal to pass up. But c'mon - we've searched the house, let's go see what's in those two domes outside." The first dome was a hollow structure covering a sloping natural ramp leading down into darkness. There was the sound of running water coming from below, so Zander activated his [I]scout's headband[/I] and gave himself darkvision. He could see two piles of vegetation on a ledge just before an underground stream, each with a pair of small boulders nearby, but not seeing anything worth taking he decided not to explore the area - best to leave it for the morning, when they'd all had a chance to heal up. The other dome had no opening on its side, so Xandro stripped off his extraneous gear and went running at it, scrambling to the top where sure enough there was a hole in the center of the roof. Peering down inside, he saw the prone form of a desert orc raider. It was too dark for him to make out much in the way of details, but the bard was fairly certain he'd discovered the source of the dream of the giant caterpillar. But he too would wait until the next day; the group decided to spend the night in the hags' dwelling (after dragging their bodies far enough away from the building that the inevitable desert scavengers wouldn't bother the heroes overnight), bringing their animals inside and blocking the entrance with their overturned wagon. (Thurloe's [I]anklet of translocation[/I] came in handy for getting back inside after moving it into position from the outside.) The next morning, they used Wakuren's [I]rope of climbing[/I] to climb down to fetch the orcish dreamer, pulling him up and out of the dome and carrying him into the hags' dwelling. Then, with the cooshee once again performing guard duty, they securely bound the orc and performed the ritual to enter his dream. They once again found themselves in a desert wasteland with a massive caterpillar, but this time their dreamstones worked as normal to weaken the giant beast and it fell quickly to their weapons and spells. The orc was surprised at the aid he'd been given in slaying the hungry larva, but the dream dissolved around him before he could express any gratitude. All six woke up at about the same time, the orc struggling briefly to escape his bindings but giving up when it was apparent he wasn't going to get anywhere - and there were five armed people sitting in a ring around him. Wakuren pulled the orc to a sitting position and the bound captive spoke a few words in his own language. "Sorry, I don't speak any of the Orcish tongue," Wakuren replied in Common; having been dropped off anonymously at the Temple of Cal as a baby by his human mother, he had never had the opportunity to learn his unknown father's language. "Do you speak Common?" "Some," replied the orc. "Well good," interjected Thurloe, squatting down before the bound orc. "So, we're not a big fan of orc raiders - ran into about a dozen of them a few days ago and slew them after they attacked us. But we don't have any particular beef against you" - and here he looked over to Wakuren, who nodded that he had detected the taint of evil in the orc's aura - "so we're going to give you a chance at walking out of here alive." The orc looked straight at Thurloe, obviously eager to hear more. "We're gonna untie you," Thurloe continued, indicating it was okay for Alewyth to start to do so. "We're not gonna give you any weapons - no point in taking any chances, I'm sure you'll understand - but we will give you a waterskin and let you fill it up so you'll have a chance of making it back to your people alive." Alewyth removed the last of his bindings and everyone backed off as he stood up, rubbing his wrists. Xandro tossed him an empty waterskin, one of the things they'd found in the hags' dwelling the day before. Then, surrounded by five wary foes with weapons drawn and ready for immediate use, the orc was allowed to walk outside to the first of the two domes. "Off you go, then," Thurloe prompted, emphasizing it with the point of his bastard sword. The orc started warily down the sloping stone ramp. Alewyth and Wakuren watched his progress with their darkvision. As the orc approached the underground stream, the two piles of rotting vegetation rose up and took vaguely humanoid forms, as the four small "boulders" rose up into the air, tails unfurling behind them. Then the shambling mounds attacked the unarmed orc while the hovering volts stabbed out with the tips of their electrical tails. The orc didn't last long against the half-dozen enemies. "Well, that explains that," Thurloe observed. "Lair guardians for the hags' source of water." "Do we want to go take them out?" asked Alewyth, [I]Sjondra[/I] gripped in hand. "See any treasure down there?" Thurloe asked. "Nope," replied Alewyth and Wakuren in unison. "Then nope," replied Thurloe, turning away from the sloping entrance to the underground stream. "Let's get out of here and back to some sort of civilization." "It'll be another two days of riding through the desert to get to the next town," Wakuren reminded the group at large. "Ugh!" grumbled Thurloe. "That's gonna suck!" - - - I threw the Large monstrous scorpion encounter into the mix at the last moment, figuring the players would appreciate a "warm-up" combat to help them get readjusted to running these PCs, as we've been temporarily on hold for two months. And that turned out to be just about right; we finished this game session after about three and a half hours - not too much sitting at one stretch for our player recovering from surgery. The [I]gauntlet of Cal[/I] is an item I created specifically for Wakuren, who had no "traditional" weapons (on purpose): it allows the wielder (who must be a follower of Cal) to call forth three [I]javelins of lightning[/I] per day, which is fairly thematically appropriate given Cal's primary domains include Air as well as Healing. - - - T-shirt worn: My "Moore-Hanes Family Reunion" T-shirt, since the three desert hags and the hagspawn son of one of them formed a family out there in the Centralia Desert. (A thoroughly evil family, but still.) [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Playing the Game
Story Hour
Dreams of Erthe
Top