And a place for the party to plan its next moves against the Iron Throne and its threat to the region...
2. The Friendly Arm Inn
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And a place for the party to plan its next moves against the Iron Throne and its threat to the region...
Koveras approaches Aiwe's table in the commonroom. He bows his head slightly in respectful greeting. "If I may..." He gestures at the empty seat across from her.
"I have been considering my next course of action, and I believe it would be best for me to depart at once for Baldur's Gate. The Iron Throne headquarters are there. And Rieltar as well." He pauses for just a moment as he considers his words. "I know your companions better now, and truly they're a formidable force; you have no need of an extra swordarm. I believe I can do more good on my own, reaching out to contacts among the merchant guilds, perhaps even approaching sympathizers among the Iron Throne."
The half-orc coughs lightly into his fist, but then doesn't continue to speak. Obviously he's waiting to see what Aiwe thinks...
"Aldous said something similar once. He wouldn't listen to me and I had to comfort Stella over the wreckage of his convoy, but if he hadn't been kidnapped we wouldn't have found you." Aiwë looks up at him.
"I consider you a mite more capable than our young lord," she winks, then pauses, "though he's impressed me lately... but do you really think you'll be safe on your own? Rieltar has to have been preparing. He'll be waiting for you."
He tilts his head and regards Aiwe, truly meeting her eyes for the first time today. "I also wanted to apologize for my former behavior. Disrespecting you was not my intention. Rest assured that I have taken your words to heart."
He blinks. He seems to feel that's the end of the matter, but is giving Aiwe a chance to speak before he excuses himself.
"I know it wasn't intentional. Thank you for the apology. Kish brun." 'No harm done.'
Then she fixes him with a stare.
"Are you sure the amount of good you can do by leaving right away instead of waiting for us to go together—probably tomorrow morning or so—is worth the danger? Are you sure you're not running away from me, even a little?"
Even here though he couldn’t help but go back to that dark tunnel and the eyes looking back at him.
He gestures to the seat next to him. "Have a seat? I can have Bentley bring out some more food, if you like."
His gaze drops to the top of the table. "I do not run away." He says it firmly. "But if put against an impossible foe, why would I remain?" The half-orc looks up at Aiwe. "You've made your thoughts on my request clear. I was in the wrong. Is this issue not resolved?"
She straightens and sits back in her chair. "I trust your assessment, you know yourself, the Gate, and Rieltar far more than I do. You will make a good decision. That said, you invited my opinion so here it is:"
"I want you to stay," she begins, businesslike. "We can always use another sword arm, and your knowledge of Rieltar and the Iron Throne is very valuable. That, and I am certain that we do not face Rieltar—we face the God of Murder, and he has targets. I imply nothing of your skills when I say that alone, you are vulnerable." Aiwë's eyebrows crease, and her eyes don't leave his.
"You deserve the life you want. I hope to see you in it, one day. I do not want to sing a dirge over your grave—or worse, an empty one."
He hoped he was ready to face his greatest opponent, himself.
Rolls
Insight - (1D20+2)
(20) + 2 = 22
The young wizard waves Bentley over to ask for more potatoes, and the gnome proprietor takes off to fulfill the request.
"What field of magic?" He sighs. "I'm not really sure... I had thought Enchantment might be interesting, but it turns out magically influencing peoples' minds is... not great. Morally, I mean." He pokes at his potatoes with a fork. "Blowing things up is probably fun, but seems a bit crude to me. Maybe Divination would help me to decide what robes to wear each day. I can never decide..."
Stephan pushes his plate aside and pulls his spellbook over so that Ida can see. The spidery, arcane glyphs and diagrams aren't what she's accustomed to reading on priest scrolls. "Look at this spell though! It makes people sick, too sick to fight properly. That could have been handy in the last fight."
He takes a deep breath, and Aiwe understands that the normally-stoic half-orc is truly upset.
"I'm sorry." Her voice is small. "You didn't do anything wrong. I... I returned the pain that I felt. Was already feeling. I shouldn't have. I didn't mean to—!" She sits forward, then back, then raps the table twice in irritation with herself. She looks down at the table.
"Will you forgive me? Can we start again?
He sighs and his shoulders relax. "I was the one who broached the subject. Everything before then was fine." He nods. "A new beginning, as the friends we should have been starting in Candlekeep."
The half-orc puts his elbows on the table and laces his fingers together, peering at Aiwe over them. He almost seems a different person from moments before, casual rather than upset. "If you don't mind, Shelur, I'd be interested in hearing how you first became a musician. Is that a tale you'd care to tell? I can order us some of Bentley's fried potato slices."
(Insight: It's almost uncanny how quickly he's changed perspectives. Either Aiwe's not the only one good at putting on a face, or Koveras takes things quite literally. Perhaps a bit of both.)
He hasn't seen her, but has she seen him? There's room for improvement both places.
"There's not really a story," she begins with a smile, waving a server over. "Khanna says I was a drummer in the womb..."
Before she looks back down at her book, she notices Dieter in his gloomy corner, eyes shifting this way and that before he fidgets, breathes deep, and relaxes. She hesitates for a bit, debating whether to talk to him, then eventually walks over and takes a seat, sitting quietly and looking around at the dim lightning. It seemed she wasn't the only one who found a bit of solace in darkness.
He seemed deep in thought...should she...say something? Or just let him think? She opts to stay quiet and do the latter, hoping she wasn't interrupting.
Prepared for the worst, he finds himself in…
… a kitchen.
"Why Dieter, you’ve barely touched your food. What’s the matter, my child?"
The speaker is a pretty, kind-faced woman. She looks to be in her early 30s, with her blonde hair tied back and wearing an elegant if simple blue dress.
She gestures to a plate on the small table in front of Dieter, and he realizes he’s sitting in a chair. On the plate is a small pile of cooked beans, a piece of bread, and two small, shriveled carrots.
"Your father will be home soon. Don’t you want to show him how good of an eater you are?"
And indeed, the gnome proprietor does. In fact, he's got quite the reading room set up, with a half-dozen bookshelves stuffed with books old and new.
Father
Dieter looks at the door excitedly then back at his mother "mama I missed you"
Using his fork he puts one of the shrivelled carrots in his mouth.
"Um. Anyways! Sorry to interupt. Ida. I have a favor to ask. You know the smithy in Beregost, Taerom? Can you cast Sending to him?" She hands her a scrap of paper. "I...wrote out what I wanted to ask him."
Taerom, Stella wishes you well and asks how rebuilding the smithy and creating the antidote are going. May the stars shine upon you.
Just before her lips reach him, there's an instant of seeing the kitchen through different eyes. It's dark, cold. His mother is withered boned and ash, with gray eyes that flicker like flame.
And then the terrifying moment is gone. His mother's kiss is warm and familiar. This sensation, this memory, opens a tender hole within Dieter, one he had buried long ago...
Sweet laughter rings through the kitchen, and suddenly there is a young girl in a chair beside him. Her golden curls bounce as she giggles, bits of beans clinging to the edges of her mouth.
It's his sister. He used to have a sister. What was her name...?
"I am you by another name." The girl's lips move, but it's Dieter's own voice that he hears.
"S-sister girl, Ada?" Dieter wants to move his chair away from her, he wants to hide
Dieter's mother steps in with a cloth, wiping away the girl's messy face and hands. Over her shoulder, Dieter sees a window. It's dark outside. And... something moves. A swirl of black mist presses up against the glass as if seeking a way inside. Then the mist solidifies into a human hand, scabbed and writhing. Its dirty fingernails, practically claws, scrape awfully against the glass.
Neither mother nor sister seem to notice.
His mother turns around from cleaning Ada, and the hand vanishes. "I wonder what's keeping your father? He's usually home by now..."
A heavy knock sounds from behind Dieter. A door? The door. Yes, he remembers the front door.
The knock sounds again. Heavy. Wooden. Emotionless.
"Daddy!' Ada giggles.
"Let's turn you around so your father can see your happy face when we open the door!" His mother is nowhere to be seen, but his chair scrapes against the floor as it slowly turns of its own accord to face the front door.
Ada's laughter continues to sound in his ears, but he knows she's not next to him anymore. She's gone.
The knocking gets louder. More forceful. Nothing else exists to Dieter except that shaking door. Each knock drives a spike of fear and adrenaline into his brain.
Dieter's face is pale. His lips are purple.
"D-Dieter? Are you...okay? Dieter...? Dieter!" She pats him on the shoulder then the face, then splashes a mug of water on his face, then checks his pulse, becoming increasingly worried.
Rolls
Medicine (What seems to be the problem?) - (1d20+4)
(19) + 4 = 23
But that's not all. Stella can tell that the spark of life has gone out of him. Not that he's dead, she's actually seen that before in him. But something like his inner self, his soul, isn't present. And without it, his body is dying.
His chair shudders, then begins to scoot across the floor towards the door as if being pushed from behind.
"You are a failure, Dieter," Ada's voice croons with crystal clear diction. "Dieter. Dieter!" The little girl's voice changes. It's unsure. Panicked. "Are you... okay? Dieter...? Dieter!"
He's nearly close enough to touch the door itself. The door's handle rattles violently, like it might be torn off. Black mist creeps from the key hole. From beneath the door, from its edges. A dozen clawed, gray fingers stretch toward Dieter, hungry for his flesh!
Rolls
Wis - (1D20-1)
(3) - 1 = 2
Luck - (1D20-1)
(20) - 1 = 19
But he's back.
Taerom, Stella wishes you well and asks how rebuilding the smithy and creating the antidote are going. May the stars shine upon you.
Stella hurriedly draws a constellation of a bear. She's nearly finished, about to transform so she could carry him, when he gasps and wakes.
The stars hanging in the air vanish and Stella leans in, feeling his forehead with the back of her hand to feel if the warmth is returning. "Dieter! Are you okay?" she repeats her eye-stars a mix between amber and blue, relief and fear. "Y—you were...you were dying. I'm going to get Ida, okay?"
She then snaps her finger, summoning Noctalia on the table. The bird tils her head and hoots. "Please fetch Ida," Stella says, mentally sending directions to the reading room. The bird hops into the air and quietly flies off.
She then takes one of his cold hands in her own warm hand. "Let's get you by the fire. You're freezing...Literally. You have several signs of frostbite. What...what happened?"
So the shadow wolf was a druid, not just a summoned creature, ther to make certain the mine was destroyed...that made sense.
She shivers as he describes the events. Her eyes-stars flare orange and her nose and lips twitch in anger. How could they use their gifts, the powers of the primal world itself for such carelessness for sentient life...It was atrocious.
She frowns as she realizes something. So...you painted blood on yourself and called yourself death...I would have thought you a servant of the Iron Throne and Bhaal too..." She keeps her mouth shut, however, and continues to listen until he finishes.
"That's...that's horrible! Dieter, I'm so sorry..." She pauses and shakes her head. "These definitely aren't just suppressed memories...Calliope's father had magically supressed memories and rediscovered them later with help...but he didn't start losing his life force when they were brought back, painful as they were. What you have..." She grimaces slightly and gestures in the air. "...This is either some kind of curse, or some side effect of dying and being brought back to life...You remember Kay? Her father, Jhonen, was cursed and basically became undead, losing the essence of his life force for a time. I doubt it's the same thing, but...I wonder if it's similar in any way. We should tell Ida about this, then talk to Miss Mirrorshade is she doesn't know."
Stella taps a page in one of her tomes with a pen and begins scratching notes.
"Some of this doesn't make any sense, though...Why would the druid ask you who you were when she already knew who you were...? And your sister you forgot about...Ada. Is she that druid? Or do you think your mind is just tying the events together?"
I know how it looks but I was just trying to gain a psychological edge since I was by myself. Fighting is more of a mind game- sorry sorry you probably don’t want to hear about that" Dieter says letting everything out.
"I think this is all just getting to me. There’s just so much death, I know you all fight too but when I fight I feel them die as my blade cuts through them. So many people have attacked us and I’ve killed them all. It’s makes everything else so hollow. The hours of my life I’ve spent training seems… tarnished. The fantasy of fighting evil is gone replaced with the reality of war. I think I have failed." Dieter vents
"I’ve failed. The only thing that seperates me from the servants of Bhaal is the law."
Stepping into the common room Ida sees Stella holding Dieter's hand as they talk quietly. Ida immediately notices how pale and sickly Dieter looks. The only other time Ida had seen Dieter like that was when Tulfgyr introduced her to the small frail boy who had escaped the forest and was living feral by her uncle's cabin before he had been taken in. Still walking quickly she comes in and sets herself beside deiter
When you attempt to learn or recall a piece of lore, if you do not know that information, you often know where and from whom you can obtain it. Usually, this information comes from a library, scriptorium, university, or a sage or other learned person or creature. Your DM might rule that the knowledge you seek is secreted away in an almost inaccessible place, or that it simply cannot be found. Unearthing the deepest secrets of the multiverse can require an adventure or even a whole campaign.
"Just be careful, you might see things..terrible things."Dieter warns
"I do not think that I can share the vision I am about to see from your thoughts but I will let you know what I see" Ida then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens her eyes she is in Deiter's Memory.
Casting this spell while holding a thought strand allows you to instantly receive whatever memory, idea, or message the thought strand contains and detect if the memory is altered.
Immediately she's aware of stone tiles under her feet. She can't see them, but she can tell they're uneven. Either shoddy craftsmanship or distorted over time. A very long time.
Her awareness expands outward from herself, still focused for some reason on the floor tiles. There's something about them. A pattern?
"It should not be here..." The voice hisses from the impenetrable darkness, rasping against stone like a snake's discarded skin.
"It will be consumed..." Another voice, eager and threatening.
"It has wandered far..." This voice is more feminine, in the sense of a crone's dry wheeze. "Let it speak."
"Yes... Let it speak..."
"...Speak!"
Ida hears the voices from all around. Disoriented in the darkness, she has to wonder if this is Dieter's memory at all, or if she's stumbled into a place both ancient and forbidden. But impressed on her ears and mind is the command:
Speak
"It will be consumed..." Another voice, eager and threatening.
"It has wandered far..." This voice is more feminine, in the sense of a crone's dry wheeze. "Let it speak."
"Yes... Let it speak..."
"...Speak!"
Speak
Rolls
Secret Roll
Deciphering the Stone Floor - History - (1d20+5)
(20) + 5 = 25
And then she sees it, so simple in its answer. So dreadful in its implications.
The tiles form a mosaic. A map, to be precise, of dozens, hundreds of lands. Some are vast while others are small, but each one is like a... pocket... on a backdrop of endless night. Each realm is bound by this void, cut off from the rest. Contained. Sealed away. A prison.
Dieter... the boy came from one of these prisons.
"Outcast..."
"Unwelcome..."
"Call the Shroud...
"It knows not..."
"It is here... Call the Shroud!"
"The Shroud... will consume it... seal it away..."
"The Shroud!"
Ida's awareness of the mosaic-map shrinks as the void between lands rises up from the tiles like dark fog, blocking her sight, writhing with tendrils like a million severed worms. Hundreds, thousands of dead-gray eyes peer at her from the fog, beckoning for her to join them in oblivion.
A terrible dread threatens to take hold of Ida, accompanied by a sure knowledge that should this fog, these tendrils of black mist touch her, she will be drawn into a fate worse than death. Her mind and spirit will be bound, her body will go cold and wither. Worse, her desiccated corpse might become a conduit for this dark power, bringing the mists into the room where her friends wait.
The black tendrils draw closer, stretching and reaching, roiling all around her.
"It will be consumed!"
Rolls
Religion - (1d20+6)
(5) + 6 = 11
Religion - (1d20+6)
(18) + 6 = 24
"It tests us..."
"Here in our realm..."
"Its death will be sweet..."
The shadows press in on Ida, forcing themselves into her light. And beyond them... More darkness. An immense tide swelling, ready to crash down upon her and snuff out her light.
And she understands. These forsaken beings, these Dark Powers, as a collective rival the power of a god. In this secret place they are both wardens and prisoners. Whatever realms they guard, they have complete power over. A blasphemer might as well appear before Lathander in the seat of his power and make demands of him, for all the good Ida will accomplish here.
This is not a fight Ida can win.
Even as the thought occurs to her, a shaft of shadow breaks through her defenses and strikes her in the face, forcing her mouth open and crawling down her throat...
Ida is blind. She can't breathe!
In the commonroom, Ida's eyes roll back into her head and dark purple veins pulse across her skin. She's choking!
Rolls
Constitution - (1d20+1d6+3)
(6) + (2) + 3 = 11
It's within Ida, mentally and physically. Cold, writhing, suffocating.
Come, child. This is no place for you. Lathander's blessed voice, though Ida can barely hear it. And then...
Ida falls out of her chair. Her eyes return to normal, showing that she's returned to her body, but it's obvious she can't breathe. And that cold fear remains.
Rolls
dmg to Ida (acid) - (1d8)
(6) = 6
Rolls
dmg to Ida (acid) - (1d8)
(4) = 4
Rolls
Constitution - (1d20+3)
(3) + 3 = 6
When Ida wakes up, Stella's concern fades only slightly. "Ida!" She looks over Ida nervously, making sure the signs of suffocation were fleeing.
When the mass of oozy tentacles starts to pool out of Ida, Stella screams to everyone else nearby and stumbles back. "Everyone GET AWAY!"
Stella wracks her brain for knowledge of what this thing might be and how to fight it, but in her panicked state can't think fast enough. She draws a constellation to fight for them, or at least buy them some time.
(Conjure Animals. Polar Bear)
The summoned polar bear lunges to bite at the thing, but its undulations leave the bear with a mouthful of air. It then swipes its claws. (I assume it's immune to slashing damage and the polar bear takes acid damage for touching it.)
Stella then shifts her body into stars, hair suddenly flowing behind her as she draws and fires a radiant arrow. (Starry Form Archer Attack. 12 radiant damage.)
She then prepares one hand to deflect the acid if it strikes her. (Stella will cast Absorb Elements if hit by acid damage.)
Noctalia swoops in then away, trying to draw its attention away for a moment. (Helping. Next round, someone will get advantage on an attack.)
"Umm....someone throw something metal at it! I have an idea."
Stella (AC 14, HP 37 / 37)
Barry (AC 12, HP 42 / 42
Rolls
Arcana...? - (1d20+5)
(2) + 5 = 7
Bite - (1d20+7, 1d8+5)
1d20+7 : (1) + 7 = 8
1d8+5 : (4) + 5 = 9
Claws - (1d20+7, 2d6+5)
1d20+7 : (16) + 7 = 23
2d6+5 : (56) + 5 = 16
Starry Form Archer Attack - (1d20+7, 1d8+4)
1d20+7 : (11) + 7 = 18
1d8+4 : (8) + 4 = 12
Rolls
Throwing!!!! - (1D20+6, 1d20+6)
1D20+6 : (18) + 6 = 24
1d20+6 : (3) + 6 = 9
Damage - (1D4+3, 1D4+3)
1D4+3 : (2) + 3 = 5
1D4+3 : (2) + 3 = 5
Rolls
Throw chair - (1d20)
(18) = 18
Chair damage - (1d4-1)
(3) - 1 = 2
Just remembered we can have weapons in the Inn, so actually, Aiwë casts Shatter.
Rolls
Attack 1 - (1d20+7)
(6) + 7 = 13
Attack 2 - (1d20+7)
(19) + 7 = 26
Damage - (2d8+8)
(72) + 8 = 17
Screams from the other patrons fill the air as the ooze attacks!
Stella's radiant shot slams into the ooze, sizzling away some of its muck to reveal fleshy tendons underneath. Aiwe's conjured thunder momentarily drowns out the surrounding cries of panic, but still the creature moves to attack.
Dieter's thrown cutlery seems to do some damage to the thing, but then each knife and fork dissolves into the ooze's black mass. Ida's chair similarly starts dissolving once she clubs the ooze with it.
It would be a shame if some of the creature's slime were to get on a nice set of armor. Fortunately, Stella's bear occupies the thing's attention. It wraps dripping tentacles around the big animal and squeezes it hard, snapping bones as its acid melts away fur, skin, and muscle (Bear takes 33 dmg). The bear's claws tear deeply in retaliation, but the ooze seems unbothered and merely splits in two.
Now there are two oozes for the party to worry about. One breaks off from the bear and scoots toward a nearby table of patrons, tentacles raised hungrily (Bear can make an opportunity attack if it desires).
Rolls
BP vs Barry - (1d20+5)
(14) + 5 = 19
dmg to Barry (bludgeoning, acid) - (1d6+3, 4d8)
1d6+3 : (3) + 3 = 6
4d8 : (8283) = 21
dmg to Barry (acid) - (1d8)
(6) = 6
BP con save vs shatter - (1d20+3)
(10) + 3 = 13
dmg to BP (thunder) - (3d8)
(564) = 15

"No claws, bite only!" Stella tells the struggling polar bear. Seeing it in such pain, it's flesh burning away, she wondered how...real it was. She might need to rethink the nature of conjuration and how...right it was to summon and send something in to die, even if it's essence would be released again into the planes.
She fires two powerful shots at the ooze headed for patrons, destroying it in blasts of radiance.
(Plack Pudding 2 takes lethal radiant damage. If Barry biting it doesn't kill him, Pudding 1 takes 12 piercing damage.)
Stella (14 AC, 37 / 37 HP)
Barry (12 AC, 9 / 42 HP)
Rolls
Polar Bear Opportunity Attack (Bite) vs 2 - (1d20+7, 1d8+5)
1d20+7 : (7) + 7 = 14
1d8+5 : (8) + 5 = 13
Polar Bear Bite vs 1 - (1d20+7, 1d8+5)
1d20+7 : (9) + 7 = 16
1d8+5 : (7) + 5 = 12
Starry Form Attack vs 2 - (1d20+7, 1d8+3)
1d20+7 : (15) + 7 = 22
1d8+3 : (3) + 3 = 6
Guiding Bolt vs 2 - (1d20+7, 4d6)
1d20+7 : (4) + 7 = 11
4d6 : (5464) = 19
Dieter possibly deals lethal damage but 13 if not
Rolls
Remaining ooz - (1D20+7, 1D20+7)
1D20+7 : (1) + 7 = 8
1D20+7 : (12) + 7 = 19
Damage disarming stuffs - (1D4+1D8+3, 1D4+1D8+3)
1D4+1D8+3 : (1) + (2) + 3 = 6
1D4+1D8+3 : (2) + (2) + 3 = 7
The ooze heading to the patrons takes 16 thunder damage from another shatter.
Rolls
Con save V shatter - (1d20+3)
(2) + 3 = 5
Damage - (3d8)
(862) = 16
Bentley Mirrorshade's small feet leave the floor as he casts a levitation spell on himself, rising up towards the ceiling so that all the patrons can see him. "Easy, now! The commotion's over!" He waves his hands in assurance. "Just a magical flare-up. So sorry for the disturbance!"
As the patrons go back to their drinks and conversations, Bentely descends easily to the floor and makes his way over to Dieter and the rest. With the smile not leaving his face, the gnome asks a few terse questions: "What in the Nine Hells happened? Will it happen again? You understand we can't have such danger appear in my establishment? This is meant to be a safe haven!"
"Bently! I—I'm not sure what happened...Dieter started dying to frostbite while having some kind of dream-vision-nightmare, then Ida tried to read his mind to find out more, but started to suffocate...and, just...coughed up that ooze!" Stella turns to Ida, completely baffled. "What happened? What did you see?"
Rolls
? - (1D20+9, 1D20+9)
1D20+9 : (20) + 9 = 29
1D20+9 : (15) + 9 = 24
Hearing patrons call for service, the excitable innkeeper insists they go speak with his wife. "If it's a curse, surely Gellana will be able to sort you out! But I'll be thinking this over anyway!" The little fellow has a spring in his step as he skitters around the conspicuous stains on the floor.
The first is a beautiful beastie with long, golden hair. The owner assures Dieter that the animal comes from a long, pure line of Aglarond Retrievers, very rare in these parts. (150 gp)
The second is a tiny, skinny rat-dog. It's legs quiver with anxiety in Dieter's presence. Its owner claims the thing knows several tricks, but the only thing it seems to be able to do is leave puddles on the ground. (70 gp)
The owner of the third dog has a hard time bringing the animal to heel. This dog's built like a big block of granite with oversized, gangly paws, indicating it hasn't finished growing yet. It doesn't so much pull on the leash as just lean, but it's enough to make the owner stumble. "This one's been eating us out o' house and home. Hate to part with the lug, but the wife wants it gone." (0 gp)
The last dog is... a handful. Apparently an elven ranger passed by some time ago with a blink dog companion, which got a little friendly with the owner's previous pet. The result of that serendipitous union is an odd-looking mutt unable to control its occasional teleportation. As Dieter watches, the young dog curiously sniffs some nearby flowers and then sneezes itself up into a nearby tree, where it whimpers in confusion. The owner claims it's one-of-a-kind, and therefore the rarest breed of all. (300 gp)
With the large dog he ask the owner what language it’s trained to receive commands in. And what its typical schedule is. He asks if it’s ever been around horses.
Dieter takes special care with the blink dog, he quickly climbs the tree hoping to coerce the dog into his arms and down the tree. Using his rope he belays himself and the dog down. "has the pup received any training? What was the mother’s vocation?"
Rolls
Animal handling w/disadvantage if applicable. - (1D20-1, 1D20-1)
1D20-1 : (8) - 1 = 7
1D20-1 : (8) - 1 = 7
Luck x2 - (1D20-1, 1D20-1)
1D20-1 : (17) - 1 = 16
1D20-1 : (12) - 1 = 11
"Well, it's trained to not do it's business in the house. Not to bark at livestock. Still whines at night though..."
Rolls
Persuasion - (1D20+0)
(15) = 15
Once outside Ida begins to speak and recounts all the things that happened in her in the dream. Stomach rolling and waves of nausea still pulse through her buts shes unsure if its from whatever came out of her… or worse yet is within her or its just a reaction to the trauma just incurred.
She helps Ida to the temple, then goes searching for Dieter. "I'll be back soon and can pay for everything."
With the help of Noctalia, Stella locates Dieter. "There you are! What...what kind of dog is that?" she squints.
Rolls
Arcana - (1d20+5)
(1) + 5 = 6
Rolls
Perception (is the is guy a wizard and screwing me out of 150g - (1D20+2)
(13) + 2 = 15
Rolls
Persuasion (puppy eyes help action) - (1D20+0, 1D20+0)
1D20+0 : (18) = 18
1D20+0 : (18) = 18
She turns to the farmer, reaching into her coin purse. "How much?"
"What happened here?!?! It looks like there was some sort of fight?"
Stella and Dieter arrive at the temple with not one, but two dogs. "Unless we get permission from Miss Mirrorshade, they stay out here," she tells him, handing him some rope to tie them somewhere.
They then enter and find Ida. "How are you feeling?" Stella asks, then goes to find Miss Mirrorshade.
"On our latest excursion Dieter encountered someone—a druid tied to the Shadowfell?—that seemed to trigger a dormant memory, causing it to resurface. He started trying to focus on that memory, and when he did...he essentially fell unconscious, having a kind of a..." she gestures indistinctly. "...nightmare vision, and I saw him start freezing to death. But he...escaped? Ida here used her magic to try to look into his memories, but then, she started suffocating and regurgitated a black ooze that started attacking! Thankfully, nobody got hurt." She pauses, then looks at Ida. "Wait, what did you see in there?"
She invites the group to one of the empty patient rooms, gets them seated, and then fetches and serves some hot tea.
Gellana holds her cup in both hands. "I'm afraid I don't know much about the Shadowfell, and I'm flummoxed as to how a memory could hold such dark power." She frowns into her tea, brow furrowed in thought. "But even though it's not my expertise, there are some paths open to you if you want to pursue them."
She holds up a slender finger. "Candlekeep. There is much knowledge sealed away in those halls, and chances are you could find a sage who knows the answer or can point you in the right direction. Good luck getting into the place, though. Usually you need to offer a worthy addition to their written works in order to gain entry."
The gnome lifts a second finger. "Baldur's Gate. Almost anything can be found there, if you've enough coin to purchase it. I'm sure there's a knowledgeable wizard who can tell you more of the Shadowfell. Ramazith, perhaps? If he's still around."
Gellana hesitates, a pained expression on her face. "A third option could be... Well. Didn't you first come to the Friendly Arm in the company of a certain artifact haunted by a deathly spirit? If the cursed thing is still to be found in these parts, perhaps you could ask it what it might know about the Shadowfell."
Rolls
Gellana religion - (1d20+6)
(3) + 6 = 9
you think breaking whatever seal is on my memories is beyond your power? Dieter asks
She smiles at Dieter. "But you'll get it all sorted, eventually. You're a good lad, with a good heart, and with loyal friends beside you I have no doubt that you will be able to overcome whatever obstacles are ahead." She spreads her hands. "You returned to this life for many purposes. Perhaps putting your own buried fears to rest will be your greatest achievement of all."