Date of Entry: 8/13/2024
The entire encounter was a scheme to belittle Lyka, the hot she-elf.
A sole member of the crowd remains, Uncle Bard, who is selling second-hand dwarven timepieces and smoking recycled drow hash.
The large black raven from the chasm perches upon the arm of the leader elf lady. It is willed to fly in that direction, the leader says to follow.
Enym and the gang follow the leader toward the southwestern edge of the village onto a sort of gang-plank. They imitate the motion of pulling rope, and a deer and various goblin corpses are hoisted up and are field-dressed.
There is another elf, with small bones worked into her elven ears, she says that Lyak kinda a pussy and that it serves her right.
The party is taken to the platform and lowered into the pit to fight the beast. She begins to chant and the vines wrap around the party, it hurts and hargle loses about a gallon of blood. Being so stout [con 22], he doesn't vomit nor bleed to death
An elf says “Good hunt” as the party is slowly lowered, there are ancient structures that pass by the partys eyes
The party touches gently on the ground, it is the dirt of the surface below the trees, and is dense with rot. The large crow spirals around a bit and then flies away
The mushroom clusters are larger than ever before. Hargle spots a cluster of brown mushrooms known as lizard crowns, they are butter and have a scaley surface upon them. [+3 Lizard Crowns]
The giant raven heads to the southwest, the plants seem to bend away from it as it passes, and the same can be said for the party. “Let's follow the fuckin bird” says hargle
The path is suprisingly easy to tread considering what the party has seen so far. *scenic route time*
Finally there is a very loud gutteral sound that emits
Martyr [insight 28 wow] immediately can tell that the creature is huge, a little horny, [nature 19] and remembers reading about a being known as a girallon(?), they are large and aggressive territorial monsters known to have bright white fur.
The trees gradually become a bit thinner as the party continues further for about fifteen minutes
The raven suddenly soars back and lands on Hargles slimy shoulder. Hargle can see that some of the trees toward the top have been nearly completely destroyed by a large beasty, there are claw marks upon them.
There is no worked stone, but there is a cute pattern of stones. It almost looks like a smiley face.
There is a clearing up ahead, about twenty five feet ahead.
The party steps into the open area. There is a wall of moss up ahead, there is a walkway that surrounds a pool of water in the center of the clearing. There is a stream of water that is feeding into the pool in the center of the clearing.
The trees flanking the clearing are significantly older than anything else nearby.
There is a beasty that is vibing in the fucking pool, it has so many arms.
*monkey mode*
It notices us.
It lunges at the party, steam rolling off its beefy body from the hot spring. It attempts to chomp Heywoods head off in a single vicious motion, but barely misses as heywood moves aside.
“This thing is gargantuous” Heywood says, and reflexively smashes a mace against the beasts spine, it sounds like steel on steel, and uses his fists to hammer against the fresh wound. Martyr also beats the shit out of the beast.
The beast jumps into the trees, swinging the trees with it's titanic weight.
Heywood hucks a javelin at it [2 left], and piss missiles it toward the beast, tearing a fistful of flesh off the creatures side, it shrieks.
Hargle approaches the tree, fails to blind the creature, and flames his blade
Martyr summons a spiritual warhammer into the tree, it twirls and cracks across the beasts ribs, inflicting great pain and suffering upon the beasty. The beast shrieks loudly in pain.
Ratfink sits on the ground like a wet dog, and belches up an eldritch blast at the beasty, inflicting great pain and suffering upon the beasty.
[nat 1 con] The beasty jumps down onto hargle and eats his fucking heart [5 attacks, 3 hit] [it perfectly removes the spores :(]
The beasty rips off the spores from hargle with ferocity, curiously leaving the flesh unharmed
Heywood cracks the mace against the spine of the beasty again but does no damage :( He also unleashes a flurry of blows to blast the beasty with ferocity; [second hit nat20] becoming wise to the resilience of the beast, Heywood notices a weak point and says “I've got it” and cracks his fists against the beasty, inflicting great pain and suffering upon the beasty.
Hargle gets up slowly, re-spores, and spores twice all of the beasty, inflicting great pain and suffering upon the beasty.
The spiritual weapon flies upon the beasty and starts beating the shit out of it and tenderizing the flesh, inflicting great pain and suffering upon the beasty.
Ratfink shakily weasels up to the beasty, does a funky gesture with its hands, and casts witch lightning upon the beasty, inflicting great pain and suffering upon the beasty.
The beasty growls hatefully, turns to Hargle, and swings its mighty fist against the slimy dwarf. Hargle steps aside before being hit, and therefore is not hit.
Heywood takes his mace and hits the beasty in the jaw hard, and it just falls limp as it is dead.
Heywood ponders if it is dead or not, but it is likely only good for scraps.
Hargle looks for actual shit, caca feces even.
Martyr wonders if the body parts are valuable; he knows that the pelt can fetch a handsome price at the market, but retrieving it may prove difficult. The claws and teeth are pretty neat too. The eyes and eye sockets are virtually worthless.
Martyr rips all of its teeth out. There is a strange crunching and tearing sound coming from the girullaion, the body twitches and shakes from the hands of Martyr.
The chest splits open as two hands pierce through, and pushes a creature out of the cavity. A strange being floats up, says something in abyssal, and is utterly misunderstood.
Martyr consults his knowledge of religion, but has no clue of anything else.
Hargle [artificial 23] notices that the creature is an apparition of something, not knowing of what exactly. It is a shifting mass of foul, necrotic, and abyssal energies.
“What in the nine hells are youuuu?” Martyr says
The creature opens it's horses skull sort of mouth, “I am so much more than any of you would believe…”
[wisdom saving throw, only Hargle succeeds]
Heywood and Martyr are horrified as the beast transforms into something of their fiercest nightmares. Heywood sees a familiar old beast, a penitent (from da Witcher).
Martyr sees an old beast he had seen that ate a kid.
Heywood ages 30 years from the mental stress, his hair greys and feels as though he has lived for many years in misery.
Hargle feels nearly apathetic seeing the specter transform, having spent a great deal of time submerged in countless dreaded mind-prisons.
The wretched dream-eater floats away to the far edge of the pool, and perches itself.
ENTER COMBAT… AGAIN!
Heywood is still scared shitless
The wretched dream-eater creeps toward Martyr and latches both hands on his shoulders, seemingly attempting to make him succumb to the mind-prison. Martyr narrowly resists the temptation, chanting a penitence that makes the beasts hands smolder.
Martyr places a hand on the ghastly arm of the dream-eater and attempts to inflict the wounds of the creature, but despite the potent magics the specter seems utterly unaffected by the attempt. In fact, it seems almost refreshed, and uncurls a wicked smile.
Hargle, without any spells that seem likely to harm an undead beasty, unsheathes his scimitar and slashes at it, it passes through the creature but there is a residue of specter left upon it, and the dream-eater seems to recoil slightly from the swipe.
Ratfink, materializing, belches yet another eldritch blast, and rips a small hole through the spectre, who in response screeches in hatred.
Heywood attempts to throw a javelin at the dreameater, but it seems to fly straight through the apparition and strikes Martyr in the shoulder, tearing the flesh.
Hargle asks if the dream-eater wants to be friends, it says “Oh, we will be together indeed,” and latches onto the slimy dwarf. Hargle shrugs off the beast and spits on it's stupid ass sneakers.
The wraith murmurs with hatred and seems to become less visible.
Heywood is still scared shitless.
Martyr slaps Hargle on the ass, [Heroism], Hargle feels the power of tyr flow through his cheeks.
[nat20, 13dmg] Hargle swings the scimitar wildly against the dream-eater
Martyr just barely manages to throw off the memories of child-eating beasties.
Hargle stomps against the ground to feel if there is an opportunity for a cave-in,
Hargle speaks druidish, “How do we settle this?” The dreamcatcher answers, in common, “With death”
Hargle mimics horse noises at the creature to mock it. As this did nothing at all, Hargle looks at his jewel dagger and reassures himself it is not magic.
Ratfink unleashes two blasts upon the wraith [nat20] and rips a wide swath of the spectral creature. He dodge rolls behind the wraith and makes ratfink sounds.
Heywood runs up to a crystal and knocks it off the pedestal, but it is too heavy to carry.
The dream-eater attempts to float away, Hargle slashes another bit of spectral goop from it, and Martyr punches the creature with the holy symbol he posesses.
*prayer to tyr* “Gimme a moment this might be my first one.
Almighty Tyr
I beg of you in this dreary and awful moment,
to save my comrades,
and yeah…”
His fist begins to glow with a divine light, his mace has been sanctified with divinity. [magical mace for 4 rounds]
The dream-eater lunges to Heywood, pries his mouth open with ghastly hands, and is absorbed into his body.
Martyr runs up to Heywood, and swings his holy mace at him. Heywood effortlessly deflects the blow.
Hargle places his hands against the crystal, the magic within seems to flow from the water and into it. Walking to the center of the pool, nearly submerged, Hargle collapses the edge of the pool, Heywood fumbles into the water and gets barely scuffed. Hargle spores on Heywood, and his skin discolors. Hargle gargles under the water until he feels ready to move again. It feels like very clean, good water.
Ratfink runs up to the pondwater and attempts to thirstily slurp it up, as he does it seems to cure one tooth cavity.
Ratfink utters something in ratish, and eldritch blasts Heywood in the head, leaving him greatly hurt. He is pushed several feet away from the blast and onto the grass of the clearing.
Evil Heywood runs up to Martyr and swings a mace against his side, it slightly deflects, and follows it up with a frantic punch to the skull. The punches are not as refined as usual, and are instead very shaky.
Heywood, in a brief instant of lucidity, reacts violently against the actions the wraith has taken against his friends. He wills the wraith out of his body, it is expelled.
Martyr yells, “Sacred flame!” and it fizzles against the non-corporeal creature.
Hargle covers himself with spores and water fleas that were skimming the water surface, it seems as though to strip away the flesh and rot enters the bloodstream, then prophetic visions of a fungal growth upon the world becomes vivid in ones mind. Shiggorath whispers in a low, horrific tone, “M o s s s t . . . . E x c e l l e n t . . . .” [extra necrotic melee damage]
Ratfink does a sick front flip toward the dream-eater, eldritch blasts once again, and rips another chunk out of the dream-eater despite it barely being physically manifested.
Heywood throws a fierce punch against the dream-eater, and it rips through the wretched mist, “Oh no….” it murmurs, and there is an unsettling burst of mist before the wraith utterly disappears. There is a small wet puddle of ectoplasm upon the ground, Heywood finds a bone caltrop and a little bit of gold.
Heywood crawls into the water next to Hargle in attempt to soak his wounds, the dream moss in his pocket seems to infuse with the waters; within a brief moment the two are floating gently and blissfully unresponsive. ### LEVEL UP
*Heywood and Hargle are dreaming, and perhaps dreaming the same dream at once*