Skip to main content

Timberlands Session Thirty Two

Session Thirty Two: Dead Dwarves and Dry Leaves



An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary



After clearing the burnt-out ruins of the Longnail family, our heroes fetched the last remaining member of the dwarven line, Khandra, and her lover Uta and brought them back to the stonework edifice. Khanra, of course, was overcome with emotion despite her upbringing. Still, the evil that had consumed her family had been scoured away. This at least gave her a chance to rebuild. That is, after the surrounding village was cleared of the shuffling dead.


The heroes caught a quick nap before heading down into the well-organized domain. After all, it had been built by and housed dwarves. They were an orderly lot when it came to construction. As before, Shinashe the rabbit folk paladin scouted the area from the back of her griffon mount Hibou. Two dozen undead dwarves wandered the streets, their mouths hanging open with the fell light of a direfly infestation. They noted the rider and moaned with pain-filled fury at the sky. Sinashe returned to the party and soon a plan was hatched. Sinashe would fly a bit lower to draw the shufflers closer to one another before the shadow sorcerer Cedwyn, an otterfolk, would lob a fireball into the mass. Gwaedd would use a hypnotic pattern to hopefully stymie the leftover undead on the edges. Once the two initial spells got off, Nalyth the eladrin echo knight and Freya the rabbit folk artificer would split the middle to pick off stragglers.


As the heroes got into position, though, the dwarven risen (reskinned ghasts with restraining goo instead of paralyze) took note of their approach and perked up. Some were caught in Cedwyn’s fireball after being lured closer by Shinashe. Others were stupored by Gwaedd’s illusion spell. The rest moved with alacrity none of their stunty frames supported in life and rushed the heroes. As the horde approached, they vomited streams of sticky blood honey, rooting a few of the heroes in place. It wasn’t long before Shinashe, Naylth, Gwaedd, and Freya were fighting almost back to back while Cedwyn picked off the edges with her spells and shadowhound. Freya’s companion, the construct Remington, helped out as well. Then the wind picked up, carrying with it a cackle and dried leaves. Screaming echoed from several of the houses.


Just as the heroes started to make headway, a shrieking dwarven ghost exited a house, and its frightful mein aged several of the heroes. Their temporary fear led to a great deal of their blood spattered on the ground. Thankfully Gwaedd and Shinaese weren’t affected and continued to cut away the dwarven vomiters. Cedwyn banished the ghost. Fortune twisted again as the Riven Gallant, a Brume, Brume (Upgraded to a Legendary Creature with an ability to make simulacrum of itself.) appeared again in a swirl of razor-sharp leaves. Not just one manifestation of the spectral fey, but two! Laughing manically, the Riven Gallant hacked and slashed the separated heroes.


Despite the grinding push of the uncanny and the undead, the heroes managed to put down the last dwarven zombies and drive the Riven Gallant away once more. As the fey manifestation dissipated it mocked them in Sylvan, "Oh, pretty toys. Your souls taste like wine. Though, you lack any poise. Everything is falling into my lord's design. Leoleth calls. This country falls."


Gwaedd frowned. He’d heard of the legend of Leoleth. One of the few great dragons of the Old World, Leoleth’s hunger drove him to attack the Golden Court Fey and consume one of their leylines. While the summer fey struck back, Leoleth had grown too powerful, glutting on the font and they could not slay the beast. So, instead, they turned its body into a cloud of autumn leaves to be scattered for the wind. The question was, what did that have to do with the waning court?


Nalyth knew the answer. In the centuries since, Leoleth had come to be aligned with the Waning Court. He aided the autumn fey as smaller leaf constructs and some of the waning fey drew power from him as a mortal warlock might. The party exchanged uneasy looks. This was spiraling into a much more desperate situation than they previously thought. The party took some time to mend their wounds.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Coffer Mimic

Most adventurers have either encountered or heard a story of an encounter with a mimic disguised as a chest. This is so common that everyone assumes a chest might just be a mimic. Hopefully, they never run across this monstrosity. Bred and trained by The Moneylender to protect his ill-gotten fortune, these mimics take the form of high-quality chests and possess greedy souls. They horde treasure and protect it fiercely. The more booty the mimic holds, the tougher it becomes - even more so when it robs the dead. If they get too aggressive, the Moneylender sells them off to other villains to populate their castles and dungeons. Coffer Mimic Medium monstrosity (shapechanger), neutral Armor Class 12(natural armor) Hit Points 52 (7d8 + 21) Speed 15 ft Str 17 Dex 12 Con 16 Int 5 Wis 11 Cha 14 Skills Deception +4, Stealth +5 Damage Resistances poison Damage Immunities acid Condition Immunities p...

Gears

Gears can't remember if he was a dwarven hero or a condemned criminal. Either way, he is more cogwork than flesh now and driven to mete out justice with his metal fists. He was first deployed during an intense goblin invasion of a dwarven stronghold. Initially he served as something between a shocktroop and a living weapon, but this cigar chopping 'cyborg' inspired the dwarven defenders fighting along side of him to the point that he became a mascot, then a leader. More times than one could count, he should have gone down under a barrage of attacks only to plow forward losing more flesh and blood later replaced with mithril and steel. Eventually, Gears lost every last dwarf he fought along side and just kept killing goblins whenever he could until the fortress housed him alone. Now he wanders the world, making things right the best he can one punch at a time. Gears Medium construct (dwarf), chaotic good Armor Class 12 (natural armor) ...

Voidcaller

Spat from a dead, but a hungry star, voidcallers begin life as a nebulous black cloud feeding on the ambient misery all sentient things produce. Those that survive this larval stage develop a physical body over time, but can always revert back to their primordial state. The uninformed mistake voidcallers for some manner of undead, which is not surprising given their vampiric nature nor their bat-like humanoid appearance.Long, thick horns curl from the sides of their angular heads with upturned noises and a jaw that unhinges all the way back to just below those horns. Instead of fangs, though, voidcallers sport a lamprey-like hole still capable of producing speech. Their leathery wings connect flanks to underarms, and their concave abdomen tapers off into a pair of gangly, but powerful tail of rubbery flesh. Most often, voidcallers are encountered wearing humanoid disguises. Feindish souls, they build and command nefarious organizations including cults, criminal enterprises, necromance...