Session Twenty One: Whirligig An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary With the town of Inniscrone still under siege by roving gangs of flying weapons, the heroes continue to sneak from building to building looking for any sing of the famed blacksmith Gerwald Knapp. According to the enslaved fey smith Cindermane, Gerwald is responsible for the calamity threatening Inniscrone. The heroes hope by finding Cidermane’s arm, which Gerwald hid away, they can free the fey and bring the terror to an end. To that end, the heroes approached the lord mayor of Inniscrone’s manor first. Just off of the city square, the well-built edifice had barred and shuddered windows. While it’d seen some damage during the attack, the building was in good shape. They already knew there were people alive within and smoke curling from the chimney. Sykes the eladrin assassin climbed onto the roof of the m

Session Twenty: Maximum Overdrive An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary Travelling with the elf druid Aryia, the heroes approached a hillside glade where they had encountered a herd of Corpseshoes . The undead-like creatures still lingered there and it wasn’t long before the party attacked. The abominations fell in short order. Upon in-depth inspection, the party reaffirmed that the corpsehoes were not undead. With Ea the war wizard’s arcane expertise the heroes realized that the horses had been transformed into flesh-golem like constructs due to their cursed horseshoes. The agriother also discerned that the black iron objects disappear off of slain horses at sunfall and reappear on fresh steeds within 100 miles. The corpseshoes horseshoes had to have their curse magically removed to prevent that from happening. So, after removing all of the horseshoes the heroes returned

Session Nineteen: Three Letters An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary After a handful of days, life around the Convent of Quiet Grace was getting back to normal. Though, in truth, it would take the area a long time to heal from the siege of dark fey. The heroes got a well-deserved rest and constant praise from the common folk throughout the valley. As more travelers arrived to the convent, expecting there to be a harvest festival well underway, the variety of wares for sales increased. Likewise, the surviving locals pooled together their resources and under the patronage of the convent worked on arming themselves. After all, there were dozens of Lesionnaire soldiers and their allies unaccounted for. The party took this time to sell off a good deal of the pistols and muskets they’d gathered over the last few months as well as spare armors and other items. The champion

This hooded spirit superficially resembles an umbrella due to its unsettling shape. Its crown is a thin, mushroom-like shape from which a brier of inky veins hang. The majority of the squirm usually squeezes together in a central trunk with a few vile appendages for grasping and locomotion. A quartet of blanched eyes floats along these arteries. Puppeteer. The parasoul crawls onto its victim, usually when they sleep, and slithers its veins into theirs. Within moments, the alien undead fully infests the host with its hood shutting closed over the head before disappearing. The possessed creature becomes a parasomniac under the parasoul's direction. In turn, the parasoul furthers Hypatatos the Dreamhunter's agenda, tormenting and dominating the waking. Parasoul Tiny undead, Chaotic Evil Armor Class 13 Hit Points 52 (15d4 + 15) Speed 10ft Fly 30ft (hover) Str 3 Dex 16 Con 12 Int

Session Eighteen: The Bramble Coffin An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary The heroes spent a tense night of restless sleep and gnawing anxiety back at the Nightveil Tower. While they’d destroyed both portals to the feywild the waning cult built and drove back the archfey who’d arranged all this madness in the morning they still had to break the siege around the Convent of Quiet Grace. While they’d faced human cultists and their twisted creations the battle before them involved scores of lesionnaries, bilge cats, hag fishers, a rookery crone and who knew what else. On their side, they had a handful of mercenaries, militiamen that were little more than farmers with guns, two fey knights, a wizard, and a stone golem with a cannon. It was a strong, but small force, one that could be easily overwhelmed. Shortly after dawn, the party followed the head of the mage tower, Isebra

Enrobed in a spectral, green light, this equine fiend bears a mottled hide a few shades darker. Unlike a true horse, the daymare is hairless. Its tail is constructed from vertebrae and its mane from cartilage spurs. The daymare's hooves are not bone, but eternally frozen ice instead. Often, the beast is used as a steed for the minions of Hypatatos the Dreamhunter . Daymare Medium undead, Chaotic Evil Armor Class 11 Hit Points 52 (7d10 + 14) Speed 30ft Climb 60ft Str 18 Dex 16 Con 14 Int 6 Wis 15 Cha 13 Damage Resistances necrotic, psychic Damage Immunities cold Condition Immunities exhaustion, frightened Senses darkvision 60 ft., passive Perception 12 Languages - Challenge 3 (700 XP) Illumination. The daymare sheds dim light in a 10ft radius. This ability is not affected by a sleepw

The network of inky arteries, capillaries, and veins usually forms a roughly humanoid shape as if the cardiovascular system has been pulled directly out of a corpse. Where a face should be and isn't burns two pin pricks of infernal light and sadistic intelligence. Sometimes the cauchermar walks like a person with one 'foot' in front of another. In other instances, it undulates along as a crawling collection of black blood vessels toward its prey. With little care for natural law this collection can climb along walls and ceilings, or slither through barriers entirely. Elevated Abhorrence. Every cauchemar started out as a sleepwalker. enthralled by Hypatatos the Dreamhunter . As time passed it went from a insidiously dominated pawn to a true undead. Over decades the horror steadily lost its connection to the waking world. The cauchemar has everything about its corporeal form and now exists as strands of pure nightmare. It hunts the most difficult prey which has ca