Skyfell Campaign: Session 3
Skyfell Introduction
I started a once-per-month Dungeons and Dragons game in my Skyfell campaign setting. I wanted to provide my players with a log of their adventures and then realized that such a log might make for fun blog posts. This is session 3. See the Session Index for a complete listing.The cast is:
Dan - Drekzhar - male minotaur Bard
Laura - Meribore Softwalker - female fitbolg Druid
Jeff - Omagoshno - male rock gnome Artificer
Rodney - Tauffae Twofeather Topshelf - male orc Fighter
Michelle - Bronte Whitewinter - male firbolg Cleric
Session 3: The Piruna Run, "The Cursed Guardian"
Preparation
I had a couple encounters in mind for this session and I wasn’t necessarily sure which one my players might stumble upon and how long they might take for either one. I planned for both just in case. Ultimately, they only got to one of them (and they didn’t actually finish that one).
My players read this blog, so I won’t go into any detail about the encounter they have yet to reach. I will talk a little about the one they are currently in though but even then I can’t disclose everything because they are still in the midst of it. As with the zombie encounter on the Howling Wind (session 2), I started with a general idea of what the encounter needed to accomplish for the overall story arc. There was one critical beat I needed for one of the characters. I also wanted to introduce a new NPC and, in the process, reveal a little more about what’s really going on.
I was also still very disappointed with my lack of music tracks from the previous session. I spent a LOT of time assembling the music I wanted to use for session 3. Too much time actually. But the results were very much worth it as the playlists I put together had their desired effect.
My players read this blog, so I won’t go into any detail about the encounter they have yet to reach. I will talk a little about the one they are currently in though but even then I can’t disclose everything because they are still in the midst of it. As with the zombie encounter on the Howling Wind (session 2), I started with a general idea of what the encounter needed to accomplish for the overall story arc. There was one critical beat I needed for one of the characters. I also wanted to introduce a new NPC and, in the process, reveal a little more about what’s really going on.
Pre-Game
Prior to game day, I sent the Unearthed Arcana article for the revised artificer class to Jeff to discuss whether he wanted to switch over to the new rules set or keep with the old ones. We decided it would be worth a go. He arrived a few minutes early to redo his artificer per the new rules.
To everyone's entertainment, Rodney came to the game wearing a top hat. It was a bit of costuming that was perfect for Tauffae! It really got him into character.
There was no other pre-game business to take care of so after a quick recap (which is included going over a few player notes), I turned on Jurassic Forest by Plate Mail Games and started right into session 3.
To everyone's entertainment, Rodney came to the game wearing a top hat. It was a bit of costuming that was perfect for Tauffae! It really got him into character.
There was no other pre-game business to take care of so after a quick recap (which is included going over a few player notes), I turned on Jurassic Forest by Plate Mail Games and started right into session 3.
In-Game
The party spent a little time checking the manifest against the actual cargo and discovered the only major missing items to be an airmap beacon and a second scout construct. Tauffae held out hope for an ascot or some other equally decorative accent for his wardrobe but found none.
While this was going on, Bronte skimmed the log more closely.
The early entries regarding the trade mission were full of reports on the weather, their progress, duty rosters, and other mundane activities. Even the landing and initial departure of the mission (including Swiftwords and his orc fighters) sounded normal. From there, things were anything but normal.
The mission returned to the ship to report that Moss Creek was abandoned and showed signs of recent vicious fighting. The dead still lay where they had fallen. They also brought back stories of strange whispers, a chilled breeze, and a profound sadness emanating from the depths of the burrow. Ill equipped for a fight, they returned to the ship to arm themselves and investigate further.
This was the last the captain saw of them.
Two days later, a strange apparition came out of the woods. Humanoid in form and burning with the cold blue flames of undeath, it methodically murdered the crew who could put up little resistance against its evil power. The captain ordered the engineer to sabotage the ship and flee. He then retreated to his cabin to leave a warning to anyone who might come looking for them, knowing what his own fate must be.
The party returned to the Stout Crow to report their findings to Captain Ka-aaw. Since it was late in the evening, they decided set out the next morning to find the feral-gnome burrow. Besides, they wanted some time to rest.
Drekzhar supplied some much needed entertainment filled with songs of the open skies and tales of grand adventures. It was an inspiring performance that left everyone feeling much more relaxed.
Omagoshno studied the manual for his new construct pet, which he named Slinky. He taught it a few rudimentary gestures for communicating very simple ideas to him, such as nodding and shaking its head for yes and no, running in a circle to indicate danger, and lying flat to show that all was safe. The manual indicated that the construct could be taught up to ten such gestures. As a test, he sent Slinky into the woods on a scouting mission, commanding it to return after one hour if it found no danger or to return immediately if it found any danger. After two hours, Slinky returned and laid flat at his side. All was safe.
Tauffae spent a little time at the edge of the forest to familiarize himself with the sights, sounds, and smells of the island. His life had been spent moving from one settlement to another, so he had never experienced such an untamed wilderness as this. He took in the transition from ambient glow of day into dim light of night, where the diurnal creatures retreated to their shelters and the nocturnal creatures emerged. Far off in the distance came the excited chirping of small pack animals, perhaps velociraptors, as they celebrated a fresh kill. A reverberating, low moan from even further away made it clear that somewhere out there was a much larger and perhaps more dangerous beast.
Bronte prayed to his god Hiatea. His prayers were heartening but an unexplained melancholy intruded into that comfort. The sadness wasn’t his own. It was Hiatea’s. Or perhaps it was the island’s sadness channeled through the god. Bronte couldn’t be certain.
Meribore found a secluded spot to recenter herself and connect with the island. Being from the Piruna Fields, she was already intimate with the cadence of the area in general so it took very little effort to blend into the pulse of Moss Creek. In this state, she became aware of an erratic flutter in the island’s life rhythm, the same sort of irregular palpitations that come from fear or sorrow or pain. As she retreated from her communion, a terrible revelation filled her with worry. The island was infected.
The party woke to an early breakfast of fresh sausage made from what was left of the pteranodon carcass Fizzlestick had harvested. They then set out on the trail, hoping it would lead them to the gnome burrow. The lush, understory vegetation intruded into what was an otherwise a well-worn path. To both Bronte and Meribore, this suggested their route had at one time experienced a lot of travel but had not been maintained for a long while.
The terrain inclined lazily for a short while before becoming a little more irregular. Soon, the party was traversing gentle hills capped with rocky ridges. It was in these environs that they discovered the tree. Perched at the peak of a fifteen-foot ridge, it towered over the rest of the forest. Its enormous roots (some as large as the firbolgs) spilled over the rocks, plunging into the earth below and fanning out hundreds of feet from their source. The trunk appeared to be at least twenty-feet in diameter at its base. Fifteen feet up from that base, facing out over the direction from which the party had just come, was a nearly perfect circular opening not much wider than a foot. From their position, it appeared to be a natural formation despite its perfection.
A closer investigation of the floral behemoth made it clear that this was not a single tree but rather several trees that had grown into a single organism. Bronte explained that it was a common practice of the gnomes that lived in the Piruna Fields to utilize their natural surroundings to their greatest advantage. They coaxed nature into a desired behavior rather than replacing it with artificial monuments. In this case, it seemed obvious that the gnomes had tended these trees into this formation even though the reason for doing so was unclear.
What was clear was that most of the trees making up the organism were dead. What remained were blighted and obviously dying. The surviving roots were spongy and diseased. While it was not unusual for plants to become infected by any number of blights, this particular corruption was unlike anything either Meribore or Bronte had ever seen. When Meribore touched one of the living roots, she once again felt the irregular palpitations of the island and felt that whatever was killing off the tree was not of Skyfell. This prompted Drekzhar the perform a ritual of detect magic, which revealed that both transmutation and enchantment magic were flowing through the surviving trees.
With some caution the party continued along the trail up to the top of the rocky ridge where the base of the tree anchored itself into the ground. Here there was an open, flat area. Another outcropping of stone rose up to the right and there, surrounded by trees, was a large circular entry with thick doors that hung wide open. Moreover, there was another circular opening in the side of the tree at the exact same height as the first hole. Minus the height of the ridge, this hole was only fifteen feet from the ground.
What was clear was that most of the trees making up the organism were dead. What remained were blighted and obviously dying. The surviving roots were spongy and diseased. While it was not unusual for plants to become infected by any number of blights, this particular corruption was unlike anything either Meribore or Bronte had ever seen. When Meribore touched one of the living roots, she once again felt the irregular palpitations of the island and felt that whatever was killing off the tree was not of Skyfell. This prompted Drekzhar the perform a ritual of detect magic, which revealed that both transmutation and enchantment magic were flowing through the surviving trees.
With some caution the party continued along the trail up to the top of the rocky ridge where the base of the tree anchored itself into the ground. Here there was an open, flat area. Another outcropping of stone rose up to the right and there, surrounded by trees, was a large circular entry with thick doors that hung wide open. Moreover, there was another circular opening in the side of the tree at the exact same height as the first hole. Minus the height of the ridge, this hole was only fifteen feet from the ground.
After some discussion regarding what should be done next, Omagoshno had Bronte boost him up to the second hole in the tree. This was an easy enough task and the opening was just large enough for him to fit. Inside, he found a chamber whose floor was composed of hundreds of branches that had grown into a tight weave and vaulted ceiling shaped in a similar way into tall cone. Directly across from the hole through which he’d crawled was another opening; directly across from the first opening the party had found was another. Together, they commanded a 360 degree view of the area in general and a perfect view of the spot where both the Stout Crow and the Howling Wind Hans landed.
The chamber was empty of decoration or possessions beyond a simple, gnome-sized desk, chair, and cot. A handful of what could only be described as woody tubes grew out of the walls. They seemed to run down the length of the tree. A musty odor clung to to inside of the tubes that reminded Omagoshno of a dirty animal cage and fresh earth.
A small area of the floor opened to a lower level of the tree. A quick glance revealed another chamber below with knotty growths on the wall that looked a lot like hand and foot holds. Curiosity got the best of Omagoshno. Despite protests from his companions, he climbed down to the lower floor. At least he had the presence of mind to call for Slinky to join him before doing so.
Outside, the rest of the party conducted a brief but unfruitful investigation of the doorway. As Meribore approached to do her part, a series of visions flashed through her mind. These were the same visions of an impending cataclysm that had plagued her since childhood. Those ghastly premonitions fixed on a door that looked and felt exactly like the doorway before her. It was clear that finding this door signaled the beginning of the long chain of events she had feared all her life.
She froze in terror.
It took a great deal of soothing to bring her out of her fear and help her to find the resolve to explain what was happening. With renewed caution, and without their gnome companion, the party entered the passageway, with Bronte leading the way. Despite having all the appearances and scale of being the main entrance to an underground complex of some kind, it was still gnome-sized. This presented an uncomfortable fit for everyone.
The air just inside the doorway was much cooler than outside with a hint of mildew that tickled the nose. It was clear that this part of the passage had been carved into of the edifice. The stonework was competent enough but lacked both the exuberant talent typical of rock gnome burrows and the geometric discipline of dwarven halls. It took a more natural approach, working with rather than in spite of the stone’s innate flow and taking advantage of its strengths while bolstering its weaknesses. There was, however, an unnatural lethargy permeating the rock. Bronte and Meribore experienced this more as a sadness. It was the kind of melancholy one might suffer after the initial relief of surviving a tragedy wanes and the realization of painful losses settles in.
(Here, I began playing the RPG Mood - The Piruna Run Arc, The Cursed Guardian playlist I put together on Spotify.)
The passage plunged downward into a gap in the earth formed by a mass of interweaving roots that were clearly grown for the purpose. Luminescent mushrooms here and there sprouted out of the wood and filled the room with a soft, purplish, ambiance not unlike an early-morning light. On the opposite end of this space was another door set into another rock face. Beyond,a flight of stairs led them down into a chamber.
This was a cozy room; it was felt to be the kind of place one might take a break from daily chores, quietly pass an evening reading, or gather with friends for a game and conversation. Planters filled with the same luminescent mushrooms dangled from the ceiling to cast the same purple glow. The fireplace, a sturdy thing cut into the rock, was not lit. It probably hadn’t been for some time. There were also two door; each had been left wide open. One exposed a passage formed from roots. The other presented a stony hallway where a cool moisture rolled in from some other yet-explored area of the complex. More strangely, the floor and furniture were coated in overlapping layers of molds and fungi.
Bronte marched into the room to investigate them. His heavy footfalls smashed the delicate growths and filled the room with spores and other particulate matter. Fortunately, Bronte managed to avoid the initial plume but even still, enough got into his lungs that he spent the next few moments coughing and wheezing.
Meanwhile, Omagoshno found himself in another room the same shape and size as the one above. Here, a natural gap in the wall led into a passage whose walls and floor were composed of interlocking roots and other woody growths. Mushrooms that grew out of the walls filled both the room and passage with a pleasant purple glow.
A large knot of root protruded from one section of the room and when Omagoshno approached it, it began to shimmer in a green light. Gobsmacked, he watched as an entity emerged from the tree. This was clearly a stunningly beautiful creature with a lithe female, humanoid form twice Omagoshno’s height. The texture of her skin was similar to the bark of the tree but was marred with scabs and tumors. A waning, greenish energy sparkled around her, tethering her to the tree. It too was infected by flecks of a darker force. Perhaps more strangely, her countenance, her entire body language in fact, skittered between welcome and hatred as though two spirits were at war from within.
She spoke in a language that Omagoshno didn’t recognize.
“We’re here to help,” Omagoshno said in gnomish.
“Are you another outsider?” This she said in gnomish as well. “You look like a gnome but your bark is wrong and the breeze rustles your words.”
Purposefully evading the question, Omagoshno said, “What happened here?”
A relieved smile flickered across the right side of her face while a sneer tightened the left. “Strangers came from a place not rooted in Skyfell.” She grit her teeth as the sneer overran the rest of her countenance. “They killed the gnomes and hunted our kin.” The dark flecks that hovered around her pulsated. “They’re twisting us into abominations.” Her hands curled into gnarled fists. “They want to remake our home into their own.”
“How can we help?”
“Some of them are nested deep in our roots. They’re poisoning our heart. If you stop them, we might survive. If we survive...” The dark flecks suddenly swarmed and bombard her body. Under this assault, the tumors that already plagued her swelled as new malignancies bubbled up across her skin. Her face shriveled into a gaunt parody. Her eyes flared with a dark hatred.
Omagoshano instinctively stepped back from her. Suddenly, new branches shot out from the nearest wall. Only luck kept him from becoming ensnared by them. He didn’t waste time celebrating his fortune though. Instead, he darted into the passage not caring where it went. But its walls surged with blighted growths that threatened to squish him at any moment. Before they could close in around him, he exploded into a room where he crashed into Bronte’s knees. The doorway behind him filled with knotted branches and roots.
Omagoshno excitedly recounted his experience as the rest of the party kept a wary eye on the now closed-off doorway. It took little discussion for everyone to agree that they had to find their way into the tree’s deepest roots and destroy whatever was infecting it. With Bronte leading the way, the party went into the stony hallway and down the stairs within. Meribore remained behind for a moment to investigate the branches and roots that had tried to crush her gnome friend. They tried to ensnare her too, but she escaped with a little help from that friend.
Another door was at the foot of the stairs. Shortly past it, the stone-worked hallway gave way to another passage framed by roots. Bronte went into the room before the rest of the party could join him. The pair of beds with matching foot lockers and wardrobes hinted at this being a sleeping quarters. A desk in the corner just inside the door caught his attention and he decided to take a closer look at it while he waited for his companions to catch up.
He opened the first drawer.
A pile of grubs roiled up out of it and swarmed around his arm. Before he could react, they began boring into his flesh.
(Here, I switched over to the RPG Combat - The Piruna Run Arc, The Cursed Guardian playlist I put together on Spotify.)
At the same time, a desiccated head rolled out from the space between the ceiling and one of the wardrobes. It stretched a pair of leathery wings as dropped off the edge. It hung in the hair as it let out a shriek that filled the room and the hallway outside.
The cry sent needles of fear through Drekzhar and Tauffae, who froze in the hallway in utter terror of whatever could make such a ghastly noise. Fortunately, Meribore and Omagoshno were too far away to really hear it, but they did see their friends’ reactions to it. This alerted them to a new danger but they couldn’t go to its source because both Drekzhar and Tauffae were blocking the way.
Bronte blasted the swarm of grubs with sacred flame, reducing the pile to little more than goo but his attack was too late. Three of the things were already deep in his flesh working their way up his arm. His mind raced to recall a way to rid himself of the creatures.
Meribore transformed into a wolf and took advantage of her new form to squeeze her way past her immobile companions and into the room. Unaware of Bronte’s plight she decided to launch herself at the flying head. Before she could, though, Tauffae came out of his stupor. Unaware that the wolf in front of him was Meribore, he took a swing at her with his sword. Thankfully it was only a glancing blow.
Sensing the danger the wolf presented, the head let out another shriek to no effect.
Meanwhile, Omagosha squeezed past Drekzhar and wriggled his way into the room just as Bronte succumbed to the wounds that the grubs continued to inflict on their mindless journey to his heart.
Meribore launched herself at the head, closing her mouth around the vile thing. She felt its skull crack under the pressure of her jaw as her teeth punctured the bone.
Tauffae, slowly realized that the wolf was not an enemy and quickly shifted his attention to Bronte who was now prone beside him. The bulges under Bronte’s skin were moving quickly toward his shoulder. It wouldn’t be long before whatever was inside the arm would reach his trunk where they could inflict even more harm. Without any way to know what happened to Bronte and even less idea of how to save him, Tauffae fell back to what he knew. He had to stop the crawlers from getting to Bronte's heart.
He cut off Bronte’s arm.
Seeing this, and understanding that Bronte had only moments of life left, Omagoshno placed his hands on Bronte’s chest and cast cure wounds. He watched as the bloody stump just below Bronte’s shoulder slowly scabbed over.
The flying head broke free from Meribore and fled out of the room. Drekzhar, who was finally able to regain himself, swatted it down before it could escape. And as the grubs worked their way out of Bronte’s severed arm, Tauffae easily squashed them under his boot.
The party gathered around Bronte as he woke. Slowly, he realized what had happened to him. And though the physical trauma filled him with fear, he wasn’t angry. Instead, he leaned on prayers to Hiatea and the comfort of his friends. All things happen for a reason and the loss of an arm must be one step in a much larger journey that Hiatea wanted him to take.
The chamber was empty of decoration or possessions beyond a simple, gnome-sized desk, chair, and cot. A handful of what could only be described as woody tubes grew out of the walls. They seemed to run down the length of the tree. A musty odor clung to to inside of the tubes that reminded Omagoshno of a dirty animal cage and fresh earth.
A small area of the floor opened to a lower level of the tree. A quick glance revealed another chamber below with knotty growths on the wall that looked a lot like hand and foot holds. Curiosity got the best of Omagoshno. Despite protests from his companions, he climbed down to the lower floor. At least he had the presence of mind to call for Slinky to join him before doing so.
Outside, the rest of the party conducted a brief but unfruitful investigation of the doorway. As Meribore approached to do her part, a series of visions flashed through her mind. These were the same visions of an impending cataclysm that had plagued her since childhood. Those ghastly premonitions fixed on a door that looked and felt exactly like the doorway before her. It was clear that finding this door signaled the beginning of the long chain of events she had feared all her life.
She froze in terror.
It took a great deal of soothing to bring her out of her fear and help her to find the resolve to explain what was happening. With renewed caution, and without their gnome companion, the party entered the passageway, with Bronte leading the way. Despite having all the appearances and scale of being the main entrance to an underground complex of some kind, it was still gnome-sized. This presented an uncomfortable fit for everyone.
The air just inside the doorway was much cooler than outside with a hint of mildew that tickled the nose. It was clear that this part of the passage had been carved into of the edifice. The stonework was competent enough but lacked both the exuberant talent typical of rock gnome burrows and the geometric discipline of dwarven halls. It took a more natural approach, working with rather than in spite of the stone’s innate flow and taking advantage of its strengths while bolstering its weaknesses. There was, however, an unnatural lethargy permeating the rock. Bronte and Meribore experienced this more as a sadness. It was the kind of melancholy one might suffer after the initial relief of surviving a tragedy wanes and the realization of painful losses settles in.
(Here, I began playing the RPG Mood - The Piruna Run Arc, The Cursed Guardian playlist I put together on Spotify.)
The passage plunged downward into a gap in the earth formed by a mass of interweaving roots that were clearly grown for the purpose. Luminescent mushrooms here and there sprouted out of the wood and filled the room with a soft, purplish, ambiance not unlike an early-morning light. On the opposite end of this space was another door set into another rock face. Beyond,a flight of stairs led them down into a chamber.
This was a cozy room; it was felt to be the kind of place one might take a break from daily chores, quietly pass an evening reading, or gather with friends for a game and conversation. Planters filled with the same luminescent mushrooms dangled from the ceiling to cast the same purple glow. The fireplace, a sturdy thing cut into the rock, was not lit. It probably hadn’t been for some time. There were also two door; each had been left wide open. One exposed a passage formed from roots. The other presented a stony hallway where a cool moisture rolled in from some other yet-explored area of the complex. More strangely, the floor and furniture were coated in overlapping layers of molds and fungi.
Bronte marched into the room to investigate them. His heavy footfalls smashed the delicate growths and filled the room with spores and other particulate matter. Fortunately, Bronte managed to avoid the initial plume but even still, enough got into his lungs that he spent the next few moments coughing and wheezing.
Meanwhile, Omagoshno found himself in another room the same shape and size as the one above. Here, a natural gap in the wall led into a passage whose walls and floor were composed of interlocking roots and other woody growths. Mushrooms that grew out of the walls filled both the room and passage with a pleasant purple glow.
A large knot of root protruded from one section of the room and when Omagoshno approached it, it began to shimmer in a green light. Gobsmacked, he watched as an entity emerged from the tree. This was clearly a stunningly beautiful creature with a lithe female, humanoid form twice Omagoshno’s height. The texture of her skin was similar to the bark of the tree but was marred with scabs and tumors. A waning, greenish energy sparkled around her, tethering her to the tree. It too was infected by flecks of a darker force. Perhaps more strangely, her countenance, her entire body language in fact, skittered between welcome and hatred as though two spirits were at war from within.
She spoke in a language that Omagoshno didn’t recognize.
“We’re here to help,” Omagoshno said in gnomish.
“Are you another outsider?” This she said in gnomish as well. “You look like a gnome but your bark is wrong and the breeze rustles your words.”
Purposefully evading the question, Omagoshno said, “What happened here?”
A relieved smile flickered across the right side of her face while a sneer tightened the left. “Strangers came from a place not rooted in Skyfell.” She grit her teeth as the sneer overran the rest of her countenance. “They killed the gnomes and hunted our kin.” The dark flecks that hovered around her pulsated. “They’re twisting us into abominations.” Her hands curled into gnarled fists. “They want to remake our home into their own.”
“How can we help?”
“Some of them are nested deep in our roots. They’re poisoning our heart. If you stop them, we might survive. If we survive...” The dark flecks suddenly swarmed and bombard her body. Under this assault, the tumors that already plagued her swelled as new malignancies bubbled up across her skin. Her face shriveled into a gaunt parody. Her eyes flared with a dark hatred.
Omagoshano instinctively stepped back from her. Suddenly, new branches shot out from the nearest wall. Only luck kept him from becoming ensnared by them. He didn’t waste time celebrating his fortune though. Instead, he darted into the passage not caring where it went. But its walls surged with blighted growths that threatened to squish him at any moment. Before they could close in around him, he exploded into a room where he crashed into Bronte’s knees. The doorway behind him filled with knotted branches and roots.
Omagoshno excitedly recounted his experience as the rest of the party kept a wary eye on the now closed-off doorway. It took little discussion for everyone to agree that they had to find their way into the tree’s deepest roots and destroy whatever was infecting it. With Bronte leading the way, the party went into the stony hallway and down the stairs within. Meribore remained behind for a moment to investigate the branches and roots that had tried to crush her gnome friend. They tried to ensnare her too, but she escaped with a little help from that friend.
Another door was at the foot of the stairs. Shortly past it, the stone-worked hallway gave way to another passage framed by roots. Bronte went into the room before the rest of the party could join him. The pair of beds with matching foot lockers and wardrobes hinted at this being a sleeping quarters. A desk in the corner just inside the door caught his attention and he decided to take a closer look at it while he waited for his companions to catch up.
He opened the first drawer.
A pile of grubs roiled up out of it and swarmed around his arm. Before he could react, they began boring into his flesh.
(Here, I switched over to the RPG Combat - The Piruna Run Arc, The Cursed Guardian playlist I put together on Spotify.)
At the same time, a desiccated head rolled out from the space between the ceiling and one of the wardrobes. It stretched a pair of leathery wings as dropped off the edge. It hung in the hair as it let out a shriek that filled the room and the hallway outside.
Bronte blasted the swarm of grubs with sacred flame, reducing the pile to little more than goo but his attack was too late. Three of the things were already deep in his flesh working their way up his arm. His mind raced to recall a way to rid himself of the creatures.
Meribore transformed into a wolf and took advantage of her new form to squeeze her way past her immobile companions and into the room. Unaware of Bronte’s plight she decided to launch herself at the flying head. Before she could, though, Tauffae came out of his stupor. Unaware that the wolf in front of him was Meribore, he took a swing at her with his sword. Thankfully it was only a glancing blow.
Sensing the danger the wolf presented, the head let out another shriek to no effect.
Meanwhile, Omagosha squeezed past Drekzhar and wriggled his way into the room just as Bronte succumbed to the wounds that the grubs continued to inflict on their mindless journey to his heart.
Meribore launched herself at the head, closing her mouth around the vile thing. She felt its skull crack under the pressure of her jaw as her teeth punctured the bone.
Tauffae, slowly realized that the wolf was not an enemy and quickly shifted his attention to Bronte who was now prone beside him. The bulges under Bronte’s skin were moving quickly toward his shoulder. It wouldn’t be long before whatever was inside the arm would reach his trunk where they could inflict even more harm. Without any way to know what happened to Bronte and even less idea of how to save him, Tauffae fell back to what he knew. He had to stop the crawlers from getting to Bronte's heart.
He cut off Bronte’s arm.
Seeing this, and understanding that Bronte had only moments of life left, Omagoshno placed his hands on Bronte’s chest and cast cure wounds. He watched as the bloody stump just below Bronte’s shoulder slowly scabbed over.
The flying head broke free from Meribore and fled out of the room. Drekzhar, who was finally able to regain himself, swatted it down before it could escape. And as the grubs worked their way out of Bronte’s severed arm, Tauffae easily squashed them under his boot.
The party gathered around Bronte as he woke. Slowly, he realized what had happened to him. And though the physical trauma filled him with fear, he wasn’t angry. Instead, he leaned on prayers to Hiatea and the comfort of his friends. All things happen for a reason and the loss of an arm must be one step in a much larger journey that Hiatea wanted him to take.
It was clear everyone needed a little time to process all that had happened before going on. They locked the door into the room (and blocked a second door in the room that they hadn’t noticed until things had calmed down). Feeling somewhat secure, they searched the room for loot, finding a Plushes in a Poke (see my The WhatNot Shop’s Absurd Accoutrements) and a small pouch with a few Plumping Pebbles (from my The WhatNot Shop's Common Curiosities and Trivial Trinkets). They then settled in for a long rest. Omagoshno and Bronte were already discussing the potential for constructing a new arm for him.
End session 3.
Drekzhar - 250 (789 total)
Meribore - 246 (769 total)
Omagoshno - 246 (767 total)
Tauffae - 270 (797 total)
End session 3.
Experience earned:
Bronte - 250 (777 total)Drekzhar - 250 (789 total)
Meribore - 246 (769 total)
Omagoshno - 246 (767 total)
Tauffae - 270 (797 total)
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Stop by my YouTube channel "Ovens and Dragons" and partake in the exciting world of cooking for gamers.
Also, check out my DMsGuild offerings:
- Epic Gnomish Inventing
Rules supplement for creating gadgets. - Gnome Concept Packages 1
Collection of gnome-related backgrounds, feats, magic items, and more. - Great House Servants
Collection of backgrounds centered on the servants of a great house. - Mildew's Revenge
A first-level adventure. - Random Plot Generator
A tool for creating adventure prompts for one-shots and story arcs. - The WhatNot Shop’s Absurd Accoutrements
A collection of unusual magical items. - The WhatNot Shop's Bracing Beverages
A collection of strange potions. - The WhatNot Shop's Common Curiosities and Trivial Trinkets
A collection of common magic items and trinkets. - The WhatNot Shop's Dastardly Doodads and Orc Oddities
A collection of orc-themed common magic items and trinkets.
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Follow me on one of these fine social media platforms:
Instagram: @hokumsean
Spotify: @hokumsean
Twitch: @hokumsean
Twitter: @hokumsean
Tumblr @hokumsean
Stop by my YouTube channel "Ovens and Dragons" and partake in the exciting world of cooking for gamers.
Also, check out my DMsGuild offerings:
- Epic Gnomish Inventing
Rules supplement for creating gadgets. - Gnome Concept Packages 1
Collection of gnome-related backgrounds, feats, magic items, and more. - Great House Servants
Collection of backgrounds centered on the servants of a great house. - Mildew's Revenge
A first-level adventure. - Random Plot Generator
A tool for creating adventure prompts for one-shots and story arcs. - The WhatNot Shop’s Absurd Accoutrements
A collection of unusual magical items. - The WhatNot Shop's Bracing Beverages
A collection of strange potions. - The WhatNot Shop's Common Curiosities and Trivial Trinkets
A collection of common magic items and trinkets. - The WhatNot Shop's Dastardly Doodads and Orc Oddities
A collection of orc-themed common magic items and trinkets.
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