With a snap of the reigns, Knuckleface and Rocky strain to move the heavy-laden cart forward. The wood groans, and the whells dig deep trenches in the soft desert sand until you're back on the main trail, which is better-worn and sturdy. Soon, a cloud of dust trails behind you as you venture back north towards whatever answers await you back in Santekh.
Due to the slow nature of the pace, Merkas is able to break off with Barkly to engange in a hunt.
Merkas is bouncing around, grin all over his face as he tries to keep Barkly moving in the right direction. All that focus and glee keeps him from doing any decent hunting (Survival 5) but after a time he and Barkly seem to catch a stride and the striders footfalls are nearly imperceptible against the sound of the wagon (Stealth 21)
After a time Merkas and Barkly return, the kender seemingly more in control of the strider. He moves up along side the Cart so he can talk to his companions more easily. “Just saw a group of dragon soldiers heading toward Hurim or the burning wastes or whatever is out that way”He points the direction he saw them and which way they were heading. “North east I think it is, anyway they’re heading away from us and our path. I wasn’t able to find anything for Barkly so going to head off the other side of the trail see if game is better over there”
Sera’s brow furrowed at Merkas’ report. A Dragonarmy patrol this close… it made her skin crawl. Even if they were heading another way for now, the mere fact they were here was bad enough. She watched the little blue kender ride ahead on his strider, offering gentle, oddly effective words to coax the horses into a faster pace. For a moment, she allowed herself a small smile at the sight—then quickly turned back to the grim matter at hand.
"Should we spend time covering our tracks?" she asked, glancing toward Hastos and Sharn. Her voice was low, serious. "We’re moving slow, fully loaded like this. If they loop back or follow our trail straight to Santech..."
She let the unspoken possibilities hang in the air. Slaughter. Captivity. The crates they carried weren’t just supplies—they were hope. If the Dragonarmy caught wind of them, that hope could be crushed before it even reached the people who needed it.
Sera sat on the cart, her hand resting on one of the crates. "Even buying ourselves half a day could be enough. Maybe someone can sweep the trail behind us... "
She looked at her companions, waiting for their thoughts—one hand never far from her sword.
“I think that’s a good idea”. Hastos agrees. “But don’t slow down for me if I fall a little behind.” Hastos takes cloak off and lays it flat on the sand, then takes his great axe and lays it across the end of his cloak and begins dragging it back and forth. The weight of the axe smoothing over the wheel ruts and footprints the group was leaving behind.
”Maybe Merkas can come up behind as and criss/ cross every now and again to help age our trail!” Hastos says from behind the cart.
“4 soldiers and a commander I think. Hard to tell exact numbers with all the spikey bits their armour has. Speaking of, Hastos! How do you move around without poking yourself in that shell?” Merkas mimes turning his head and poking his eye on a pauldron “Y’know it’s a good thing you take that off when you sleep or else you would wake up with your pillow stuck to your head and the blankets tangled around your shoulders”
"That few, without additional supplies, without a big caravan, without nomadic experience. Either they are scouting for a bigger group or they have a garrison nearby. Nomads and armies, different in concept, but mobilizing thousands is the same. All boots tread dust the same." He hummed again, unsure if to pursue or not, unsure about their tracks. "Let me help you with covering out tracks Hastos. I'll make the path look more weathered. We won't take long."
With Sharn and Hastos working together to cover up the tracks, you do a fair job obscuring your path, and avoid the dragon army patrol.
It takes a half hour for the two to catch back up to the horse-drawn cart led by Sera. And the day drags on tediously, with the hot sun baking your necks. By early evening, your waterskins have run low, and Barkly is getting fussy.
Hrothbert_Neruca Barkly is getting bored by the lack of action. Please roll a Handle Animal check, or find a way to get her frustrations out.
You can push through the night to arrive by morning. In the cooler temperatures, you won't have to make CON saving throws, as per Extreme Weather Conditions. Nightime temperatures rarely reach freezing, but they do get cold enough to cause Kasi to fall asleep, so she won't really be much help if there's a fight.
"Yeah Sharn, they seemed like a scout group or something, they were all healthy it seemed. Do the Hachakee harass them when they are around? I know I would if I was organizing a refugee camp, strike them and then run away in a different direction from the settlement"Barkly and Merkas are plodding along behind the two scrubbing the tracks to leave some other ones and hide their travel. After an hour Barkly starts straining against the reigns and bucking gently "Woah, Barkly, sorry we couldn't find you anything yet, wanna go for a run?" (Animal Handling 11)
Merkas barely keeps the strider from rushing away in the moment, but lets some reigns out to let her run some ahead of the wagon. He calls back as he moves off. "Gonna try again to find some food for her, if you guys need some rations feel free to use mine in the pack there, left bottom pouch, don't go searching through the rest it's rude!"
Moments later he and the strider move over a rise and pass out of site, though his chattering can be heard for awhile afterwards,"So last time we were hunting for anything but how about you help me, what you wanna eat, lizard, elk, snake you already ate some of that....."
The day was coming to an end. Everyone was tired. Merkas struggled with his strider, who hadn’t had a good hunt yet. They took off again, hoping to track something, and Merkas—always kind—offered to share his own rations if the creature was hungry.
Sera watched him ride off, a faint smile tugging at her lips. He really was too kind. Her attention shifted to the horses—flanks soaked, heads lowered, legs trembling. They were at their limit. And honestly… so was everyone else.
She clicked her tongue softly, hopping off the wagon and walking up beside the weary animals. “We can need a short break before we go on…” she muttered, running her hand along one horse's neck. It twitched slightly beneath her fingers—tired, but trusting.
Then something stirred in her heart. That dream… vivid, bright with meaning. A power offered—if she had the courage to take it.
She looked at the cracked earth, the scattered sand and sun-bleached rocks. A memory bloomed inside her: warmth, abundance, a table set beneath a starlit sky. She took a breath and moved with quiet purpose.
Spreading her travel-worn blanket on the ground, she gathered their empty barrels, pots, dishes and flasks. Scooping a handful of sand into one palm, and tipping the last drops of water into the other, she knelt and pressed her hands together.
“Please… do us not be hungry or thirsty,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
The sand began to shimmer—then lift—sparkling like ash caught in the wind. The magic flared, not with holy solemnity, but a golden warmth. A sense of celebration. The dust danced across the camp like fireflies in dusk.
Then, as if guided by an unseen hand, the feast appeared.
It wasn’t just food—it was a banquet.
Glazed skewers of roasted meat—spiced lamb, juicy chicken, and seasoned vegetables—materialized on bronze platters. Flatbreads puffed with air, still steaming. Bowls of tangy sauces, herbed rice, and spiced lentils filled in the gaps. There were grilled corn husks dusted in salt and buttery ghee, sweet peppers stuffed with cheese and nuts, and skewered dates wrapped in crispy leaves.
Jugs of citrus-mint water and pomegranate juice shimmered into view. And for dessert, plates of honey-drenched pastries and warm roasted nuts appeared like a blessing.
Sera’s favorite part? The horses weren’t forgotten.
Before them lay heaping piles of fresh hay, juicy apples, and bundles of sweet grain and carrots—neatly arranged like offerings.
The barrels and waterskin got full of water again.
She rose slowly, the glow fading from her hands. A strange warmth lingered—not just the divine power, but something human. A sense of care. Of joy.
“...Guess I really was shown,” she said softly to herself, still in awe.
Then she turned to the others, smile blooming. “Alright, come on—let’s eat before it cools. Looks like Paladine brought the grill tonight.”
The desert wind calmed. The scent of spice and smoke hung in the air. The sky, painted in hues of red and gold, stretched above them as the Khalkist Mountains swallowed the sun one jagged tooth at a time.
Tonight, in the dry stillness of the plains, they had at least food, and hope. (cast creater food and water 2 times, food enought for 15 persons and 5 steeds and we got 60 galllons of water)
Sharn tried to contain his shock at the instant feast, but his smile betrayed his surprise.
"This could do so much good. You could help so many is Sanketh, or anywhere. My thanks to your god, Sera. Not that I will claim to understand it, but it's appreciated regardless."
Sharn took some of the vegetables and the rice. His first plentiful meal in a while. He took a hearty amount, but still less than many other dwarves would have. He wasn't being modest, the region warranted it, and he had gotten used to it. Besides, now he had focus and power within him, it didn't leave leave as much space as before.
Hastos stoppped motionless as the food appeared before them. In all his years he had never seen food like this. Then the smell hit him. It was so varied and rich that it was almost sickening. He flinched a bit and covered his nose as he tried to acclimate to the various smells as they danced around him. Despite the mild nausea, he couldn’t take his eye off the food.
”By the gods..” he said in astonishment, still motionless.
Sharn helping himself shook Hastos free from his shock, and he wandered over to the food. His portions were small, but he sampled a variety of the foods available.
”Thank you, Sera.” He said. “This is…. well, it’s astonishing! And delicious!”
Merkas and Barkly comb the desert wastes for nearly an hour, bypassing the smaller vipers and geckos that wouldn't even be a mouthful for Barkly, until the two spot a caracal out on the hunt. Before Merkas could snap the reigns, Barkly explodes into action and the chase is on! Barkly snaps the caracal's tail, but it springs into the air with alarming speed spinning around and batting at Barkly's face with an outstretched paw. Then, the wiry desert cat pads onto the dusty sand, then kicks, causing sand to explode into Barkly's eyes, as it takes off into a full run! Barkly screeches and chases after, building fire in their belly as the caracal increases their distance! Barkly opens their beak and flames spew forth, vaporizing the dry roughage that the caracal was darting for! But the cat's reflexes were to sharp! It turns and leaps again, dodging the flames and disappearing behind the dunes. Barkly slows her pace and stomps the ground angrily... roaring at the rolling hills of sand as waves of heat vaporize all around her and Merkas. Another failed hunt. Barkly looks to Merkas, sitting atop her as if to pout. Her belly empty, both from hunger and from wasting the energy to incinerate the ground, she dutifully returns to camp...
Back at the camp...
After about an hour of scrounging, Merkas and Barkly return empty handed. Barkly seems quiet at least, but moody. When she returns to see the banquet, her stomach growls, but she doesn't dare approach with Sera hosting the picnic. Instead, she squats down, about 20' from the picnic, to make it easier for Merkas to get off.
Barkly now trusts Merkas to honor her needs and will attempt to listen if you teach her commands in your preferred language. Also, instead of rolling Survival checks to hunt with Barkly, Hrothbert_Neruca you may choose the Help action, granting Barkly Advantage on Survival checks (since she gets a +1).
Merkas is silent while stalking but almost vibrates as they get near the desert cat. Once the chase begins he holds on for dear life while hooting and hollering “Yahoo, go Barkly go. He went that way, no now over there” Once the prey had got away the kender slumps in his seat. “I’m so sorry Barkly, should I be more quiet when we hunt, I promise to find a way to be more useful in the future. Let’s head back to camp at least Sera can do that water thing she did and I can share my rations some more. They aren’t the best even for me. Maybe we can get a cook so we don’t have to eat such terrible food all the time.”Giving her neck a big hug they move back to camp, defeated
Coming back over the rise outside camp Merkas perks up “You smell that? Guess they were able to catch som….What on earth, How’d that get here” After Barkly stops and lowers to let him off he heads over to the banquet looking over it all “How’d you get all this? Like we were only gone for an hour or two? Can I give some to Barkly, she can have my share”
As Merkas returned with his frustrated-looking strider, Sera smiled warmly. The hunt hadn’t gone well, it seemed. Still, ever generous, Merkas politely offered his share of food to Barkley.
Sera just shook her head and scooted over, patting the blanket beside her. “Silly. Like it’s not enough for the two of you,” she said, grinning.
She rose and stepped up to him, leaning in to whisper, casting a cautious glance at the strider—uncertain just how much the creature could actually understand.
“Go on and give the giant chicken the food it needs,” she murmured. “There’s enough here to feed fifteen men at least. Let it come from you—make it feel like you’re its master. I got it for all of us, but you give it the love.”
As she returned to her spot, she picked at a handful of mixed nuts, chewing slowly. “But the food’s a bit... bland,” she admitted with a little wrinkle of her nose. “It’s conjured—a gift from my deity, Merkas. But I don’t think I got the seasoning right. Next time, I’ll either spice it up properly or just ask for simple food folks can season to their own taste.”
Still, she smiled as she saw the hungry kender and his dino-like companion dig in, clearly not bothered by the lack of flavor. The sight warmed her heart, even if the praise made her feel a little embarrassed. This was a divine blessing, after all—not something she’d cooked herself. But... the power was hers to use now. The stir this would cause back in Santech would be considerable—food and water, conjured on demand. Her contribution could change lives.
With the edge of hunger dulled and the stars beginning to blink awake above, Sera turned toward Herkas, Kasi, and Sharn. Merkas was still within earshot, though currently busy stuffing his face—which never stopped him from having an opinion.
“What’s the plan to find out who set this up?” she asked. “You learned a few things down in the kobold tunnels…”
She hesitated briefly. She could feel it—like a truth resting on the tip of her tongue. Something awakened in her. A gift from Paladine, whispered in a dream.
“I’ve got another spell that might help,” she said after a moment. “Zone of Truth. It makes it really hard to lie around me when I cast it. Could be useful if we get someone talking. Though...” she scratched the back of her neck, “...it’s a pretty bold move. Kinda confrontational. Maybe there’s a softer way?”
She looked between them, waiting to see if they had better ideas. She hoped they had better ideas. But she’d offer what she could.
And if all else failed? Well... truth would find its way.
Eyes wide at Sera's generosity and the shear volume of food on display, Merkas grins"Thanks Sera, You're the best. Like I was just saying to Barkly we might need a cook cause the rations were getting so boring but then you do this? Like where'd he find it all we couldn't catch nothin worth eating!" He yammers this as he picks up a full platter of lamb and carries it over to the strider. "Look Barkly! They made some for us too. Here, youhave all this lamb, I will bring you some of the chick..Um is it okay for you to eat chicken? Like that's not some sort of taboo is it? I will bring you a plate of that too, oh and some water, I can heat it up for you too, well a little anyway" The kender busies himself moving the different parts of the meal over to Barkly, each trip back he stuffs his mouth with food, frantically chewing so he can get his mouth empty and keep talking "And I s'pose you're gonna want that rock bed thing you were sleeping in this morning right? I can heat that up for you too, maybe that will help you sleep the night. And the warmth would be good for Gramma at night to. OH! Can Gramma come for a ride with us tomorrow? Be really neat to ride back into town with the hero on your back" On a subsequent trip back to the feast, Merkas stops and looks over the spread, grabbing a small amount of the veggies and nuts before sitting beside Sera as she asks about rooting out the people that set them up. "Well Lady Verhana can speak thieve's cant, kinda odd that she can, so maybe can talk to her without alerting to many others right away. But she might be the one that set us up, though I don't want to believe it of the viscountess. Then there's the rest of the goons that attacked Gramma, and the group connected to the guy that tried to hurt us in the Dwarf on out first night. Definitely want to search out and question the people that Gramma said talked about the caravan, seems to me the let it slip on purpose hoping to cause trouble. So I guess it depends on the response we get when we get back cause straight up telling anyone that we know about the trick will reveal that we're lying about destroying the kobolds. So we watch and see who's happiest about the Letni Inhelk being gone are and we try and get them to admit it. we might even need to do the cleaning really quietly so we don't reveal the Kobolds secret." His ramblings are not easy to follow with the food being shovelled in his mouth in between sentences but between the sounds and the gesticulating with is hands the overall meaning is clear enough"The making people tell the truth thing is really neat and I think would be useful but do they know you cast it? Like can they choose not to talk or tell truth in a way that is also a lie? I know lots of people that can do that!"
With his meal finished, Sharn got comfortable before his watch and settled down on a softer patch of ground. He yawned, from the plans, but from his fullness.
"I agree that deception will be key, but we won't be able to to be outside of its cloud for a long time. Even if we discover who is behind it with magic, nothing says that others won't attack us as soon as we discover them." His hand hovered unconsciously over his own throat as he said that, though Sharn shifted position. Hopefully his comrades wouldn't have noticed. "The people that knew of the caravan and the mission were few. Fewer still knew that we would be at the Laughing Dwarf." Sharn hummed brushing his mustache. "Dwarf ... perhaps, a dwarf in an influential position is at fault."
“Another option…”. Hastos adds “…is to just keep doing what we’re doing.” He sets his plate down, and takes a small drink of water. “Keep helping the people of Santekh. Eventually, they’ll find us, and we won’t have to make any new enemies by saying the wrong thing.”
”Do enough good, they’ll come for us for sure.” Hastos face is serious. He knows who they'd go after first. He understands how to read lines of attacks to narrow down the options.
“These aren’t likely your standard brutes - unless we’re incredibly lucky. Worst case is it’s someone within the political strata of the city. If that’s the case, they’ll use the whole city against us just like they did with the Kobolds.”
“We’re going to have to be very careful. Desperation is an eager weapon.”
Sera nodded along with Hastos' idea—there was a quiet brilliance in it. Just keep doing good. Keep helping. Let whoever was working against Santech think they were unaware. Let them make the next move. Pretend to be ignorant heroes, all while preparing for the inevitable assault in secret.
She only hoped it would be an assault they could handle.
She hadn’t quite caught Hastos' comment about who they’d target first, but the rush of divine strength she’d felt lately made her feel more confident than ever. A quiet, satisfied smile tugged at her lips as she stood, beginning to unbuckle her armor. “I think we deserve this…” she said, slipping out of her gear until only her light tunic remained.
Right there by the camp, she scooped up a handful of dry sand in one hand and let a few drops of water fall into her other. Bringing her palms together, she whispered, “Thank you, Father…”
The grains of sand shimmered as they touched, igniting into tiny white sparks—and above them, the air shifted. A soft, cool rain began to fall in a ten-foot circle around her, sizzling gently against the warm earth and washing away the sweat and dust of the road.
She tilted her head back, eyes closed as droplets kissed her cheeks, soaking her hair and tunic.
After a few peaceful breaths, she opened one eye and glanced at the others with a half-grin. “Come on. Join me if you want. It’s not every day we get a divine shower in the middle of the desert.”
She stepped aside, leaving space for anyone who wanted to join her under the rain’s gentle blessing. Whether they did or not, the offer stood—this moment of grace was meant for them all. ( cast 2 create water and let it appear as rain )
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With a snap of the reigns, Knuckleface and Rocky strain to move the heavy-laden cart forward. The wood groans, and the whells dig deep trenches in the soft desert sand until you're back on the main trail, which is better-worn and sturdy. Soon, a cloud of dust trails behind you as you venture back north towards whatever answers await you back in Santekh.
Due to the slow nature of the pace, Merkas is able to break off with Barkly to engange in a hunt.
Hrothbert_Neruca please roll a Survival and a Stealth check.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Merkas is bouncing around, grin all over his face as he tries to keep Barkly moving in the right direction. All that focus and glee keeps him from doing any decent hunting (Survival 5) but after a time he and Barkly seem to catch a stride and the striders footfalls are nearly imperceptible against the sound of the wagon (Stealth 21)
Loyalty Begets Honour
After a time Merkas and Barkly return, the kender seemingly more in control of the strider. He moves up along side the Cart so he can talk to his companions more easily. “Just saw a group of dragon soldiers heading toward Hurim or the burning wastes or whatever is out that way” He points the direction he saw them and which way they were heading. “North east I think it is, anyway they’re heading away from us and our path. I wasn’t able to find anything for Barkly so going to head off the other side of the trail see if game is better over there”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Sera’s brow furrowed at Merkas’ report. A Dragonarmy patrol this close… it made her skin crawl. Even if they were heading another way for now, the mere fact they were here was bad enough. She watched the little blue kender ride ahead on his strider, offering gentle, oddly effective words to coax the horses into a faster pace. For a moment, she allowed herself a small smile at the sight—then quickly turned back to the grim matter at hand.
"Should we spend time covering our tracks?" she asked, glancing toward Hastos and Sharn. Her voice was low, serious. "We’re moving slow, fully loaded like this. If they loop back or follow our trail straight to Santech..."
She let the unspoken possibilities hang in the air. Slaughter. Captivity. The crates they carried weren’t just supplies—they were hope. If the Dragonarmy caught wind of them, that hope could be crushed before it even reached the people who needed it.
Sera sat on the cart, her hand resting on one of the crates. "Even buying ourselves half a day could be enough. Maybe someone can sweep the trail behind us... "
She looked at her companions, waiting for their thoughts—one hand never far from her sword.
“I think that’s a good idea”. Hastos agrees. “But don’t slow down for me if I fall a little behind.” Hastos takes cloak off and lays it flat on the sand, then takes his great axe and lays it across the end of his cloak and begins dragging it back and forth. The weight of the axe smoothing over the wheel ruts and footprints the group was leaving behind.
”Maybe Merkas can come up behind as and criss/ cross every now and again to help age our trail!” Hastos says from behind the cart.
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
Sharn raised an eyebrow. There wasn't that many settlements around the area. That was the magic behind Santekh.
"How many of them did you see Merkas? In what state, if you remember."
“4 soldiers and a commander I think. Hard to tell exact numbers with all the spikey bits their armour has. Speaking of, Hastos! How do you move around without poking yourself in that shell?” Merkas mimes turning his head and poking his eye on a pauldron “Y’know it’s a good thing you take that off when you sleep or else you would wake up with your pillow stuck to your head and the blankets tangled around your shoulders”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Sharn hummed brushing his bushy mustache.
"That few, without additional supplies, without a big caravan, without nomadic experience. Either they are scouting for a bigger group or they have a garrison nearby. Nomads and armies, different in concept, but mobilizing thousands is the same. All boots tread dust the same." He hummed again, unsure if to pursue or not, unsure about their tracks. "Let me help you with covering out tracks Hastos. I'll make the path look more weathered. We won't take long."
With Sharn and Hastos working together to cover up the tracks, you do a fair job obscuring your path, and avoid the dragon army patrol.
It takes a half hour for the two to catch back up to the horse-drawn cart led by Sera. And the day drags on tediously, with the hot sun baking your necks. By early evening, your waterskins have run low, and Barkly is getting fussy.
Hrothbert_Neruca Barkly is getting bored by the lack of action. Please roll a Handle Animal check, or find a way to get her frustrations out.
You can push through the night to arrive by morning. In the cooler temperatures, you won't have to make CON saving throws, as per Extreme Weather Conditions. Nightime temperatures rarely reach freezing, but they do get cold enough to cause Kasi to fall asleep, so she won't really be much help if there's a fight.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
"Yeah Sharn, they seemed like a scout group or something, they were all healthy it seemed. Do the Hachakee harass them when they are around? I know I would if I was organizing a refugee camp, strike them and then run away in a different direction from the settlement" Barkly and Merkas are plodding along behind the two scrubbing the tracks to leave some other ones and hide their travel. After an hour Barkly starts straining against the reigns and bucking gently "Woah, Barkly, sorry we couldn't find you anything yet, wanna go for a run?" (Animal Handling 11)
Merkas barely keeps the strider from rushing away in the moment, but lets some reigns out to let her run some ahead of the wagon. He calls back as he moves off. "Gonna try again to find some food for her, if you guys need some rations feel free to use mine in the pack there, left bottom pouch, don't go searching through the rest it's rude!"
Moments later he and the strider move over a rise and pass out of site, though his chattering can be heard for awhile afterwards, "So last time we were hunting for anything but how about you help me, what you wanna eat, lizard, elk, snake you already ate some of that....."
Loyalty Begets Honour
The day was coming to an end. Everyone was tired. Merkas struggled with his strider, who hadn’t had a good hunt yet. They took off again, hoping to track something, and Merkas—always kind—offered to share his own rations if the creature was hungry.
Sera watched him ride off, a faint smile tugging at her lips. He really was too kind. Her attention shifted to the horses—flanks soaked, heads lowered, legs trembling. They were at their limit. And honestly… so was everyone else.
She clicked her tongue softly, hopping off the wagon and walking up beside the weary animals. “We can need a short break before we go on…” she muttered, running her hand along one horse's neck. It twitched slightly beneath her fingers—tired, but trusting.
Then something stirred in her heart. That dream… vivid, bright with meaning. A power offered—if she had the courage to take it.
She looked at the cracked earth, the scattered sand and sun-bleached rocks. A memory bloomed inside her: warmth, abundance, a table set beneath a starlit sky. She took a breath and moved with quiet purpose.
Spreading her travel-worn blanket on the ground, she gathered their empty barrels, pots, dishes and flasks. Scooping a handful of sand into one palm, and tipping the last drops of water into the other, she knelt and pressed her hands together.
“Please… do us not be hungry or thirsty,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
The sand began to shimmer—then lift—sparkling like ash caught in the wind. The magic flared, not with holy solemnity, but a golden warmth. A sense of celebration. The dust danced across the camp like fireflies in dusk.
Then, as if guided by an unseen hand, the feast appeared.
It wasn’t just food—it was a banquet.
Glazed skewers of roasted meat—spiced lamb, juicy chicken, and seasoned vegetables—materialized on bronze platters. Flatbreads puffed with air, still steaming. Bowls of tangy sauces, herbed rice, and spiced lentils filled in the gaps. There were grilled corn husks dusted in salt and buttery ghee, sweet peppers stuffed with cheese and nuts, and skewered dates wrapped in crispy leaves.
Jugs of citrus-mint water and pomegranate juice shimmered into view. And for dessert, plates of honey-drenched pastries and warm roasted nuts appeared like a blessing.
Sera’s favorite part? The horses weren’t forgotten.
Before them lay heaping piles of fresh hay, juicy apples, and bundles of sweet grain and carrots—neatly arranged like offerings.
The barrels and waterskin got full of water again.
She rose slowly, the glow fading from her hands. A strange warmth lingered—not just the divine power, but something human. A sense of care. Of joy.
“...Guess I really was shown,” she said softly to herself, still in awe.
Then she turned to the others, smile blooming.
“Alright, come on—let’s eat before it cools. Looks like Paladine brought the grill tonight.”
The desert wind calmed. The scent of spice and smoke hung in the air. The sky, painted in hues of red and gold, stretched above them as the Khalkist Mountains swallowed the sun one jagged tooth at a time.
Tonight, in the dry stillness of the plains, they had at least food, and hope. (cast creater food and water 2 times, food enought for 15 persons and 5 steeds and we got 60 galllons of water)
Sharn tried to contain his shock at the instant feast, but his smile betrayed his surprise.
"This could do so much good. You could help so many is Sanketh, or anywhere. My thanks to your god, Sera. Not that I will claim to understand it, but it's appreciated regardless."
Sharn took some of the vegetables and the rice. His first plentiful meal in a while. He took a hearty amount, but still less than many other dwarves would have. He wasn't being modest, the region warranted it, and he had gotten used to it. Besides, now he had focus and power within him, it didn't leave leave as much space as before.
Hastos stoppped motionless as the food appeared before them. In all his years he had never seen food like this. Then the smell hit him. It was so varied and rich that it was almost sickening. He flinched a bit and covered his nose as he tried to acclimate to the various smells as they danced around him. Despite the mild nausea, he couldn’t take his eye off the food.
”By the gods..” he said in astonishment, still motionless.
Sharn helping himself shook Hastos free from his shock, and he wandered over to the food. His portions were small, but he sampled a variety of the foods available.
”Thank you, Sera.” He said. “This is…. well, it’s astonishing! And delicious!”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
On the hunt...
Merkas and Barkly comb the desert wastes for nearly an hour, bypassing the smaller vipers and geckos that wouldn't even be a mouthful for Barkly, until the two spot a caracal out on the hunt. Before Merkas could snap the reigns, Barkly explodes into action and the chase is on! Barkly snaps the caracal's tail, but it springs into the air with alarming speed spinning around and batting at Barkly's face with an outstretched paw. Then, the wiry desert cat pads onto the dusty sand, then kicks, causing sand to explode into Barkly's eyes, as it takes off into a full run! Barkly screeches and chases after, building fire in their belly as the caracal increases their distance! Barkly opens their beak and flames spew forth, vaporizing the dry roughage that the caracal was darting for! But the cat's reflexes were to sharp! It turns and leaps again, dodging the flames and disappearing behind the dunes. Barkly slows her pace and stomps the ground angrily... roaring at the rolling hills of sand as waves of heat vaporize all around her and Merkas. Another failed hunt. Barkly looks to Merkas, sitting atop her as if to pout. Her belly empty, both from hunger and from wasting the energy to incinerate the ground, she dutifully returns to camp...
Back at the camp...
After about an hour of scrounging, Merkas and Barkly return empty handed. Barkly seems quiet at least, but moody. When she returns to see the banquet, her stomach growls, but she doesn't dare approach with Sera hosting the picnic. Instead, she squats down, about 20' from the picnic, to make it easier for Merkas to get off.
Barkly now trusts Merkas to honor her needs and will attempt to listen if you teach her commands in your preferred language. Also, instead of rolling Survival checks to hunt with Barkly, Hrothbert_Neruca you may choose the Help action, granting Barkly Advantage on Survival checks (since she gets a +1).
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Merkas is silent while stalking but almost vibrates as they get near the desert cat. Once the chase begins he holds on for dear life while hooting and hollering “Yahoo, go Barkly go. He went that way, no now over there” Once the prey had got away the kender slumps in his seat. “I’m so sorry Barkly, should I be more quiet when we hunt, I promise to find a way to be more useful in the future. Let’s head back to camp at least Sera can do that water thing she did and I can share my rations some more. They aren’t the best even for me. Maybe we can get a cook so we don’t have to eat such terrible food all the time.” Giving her neck a big hug they move back to camp, defeated
Coming back over the rise outside camp Merkas perks up “You smell that? Guess they were able to catch som….What on earth, How’d that get here” After Barkly stops and lowers to let him off he heads over to the banquet looking over it all “How’d you get all this? Like we were only gone for an hour or two? Can I give some to Barkly, she can have my share”
Loyalty Begets Honour
As Merkas returned with his frustrated-looking strider, Sera smiled warmly. The hunt hadn’t gone well, it seemed. Still, ever generous, Merkas politely offered his share of food to Barkley.
Sera just shook her head and scooted over, patting the blanket beside her. “Silly. Like it’s not enough for the two of you,” she said, grinning.
She rose and stepped up to him, leaning in to whisper, casting a cautious glance at the strider—uncertain just how much the creature could actually understand.
“Go on and give the giant chicken the food it needs,” she murmured. “There’s enough here to feed fifteen men at least. Let it come from you—make it feel like you’re its master. I got it for all of us, but you give it the love.”
As she returned to her spot, she picked at a handful of mixed nuts, chewing slowly. “But the food’s a bit... bland,” she admitted with a little wrinkle of her nose. “It’s conjured—a gift from my deity, Merkas. But I don’t think I got the seasoning right. Next time, I’ll either spice it up properly or just ask for simple food folks can season to their own taste.”
Still, she smiled as she saw the hungry kender and his dino-like companion dig in, clearly not bothered by the lack of flavor. The sight warmed her heart, even if the praise made her feel a little embarrassed. This was a divine blessing, after all—not something she’d cooked herself. But... the power was hers to use now. The stir this would cause back in Santech would be considerable—food and water, conjured on demand. Her contribution could change lives.
With the edge of hunger dulled and the stars beginning to blink awake above, Sera turned toward Herkas, Kasi, and Sharn. Merkas was still within earshot, though currently busy stuffing his face—which never stopped him from having an opinion.
“What’s the plan to find out who set this up?” she asked. “You learned a few things down in the kobold tunnels…”
She hesitated briefly. She could feel it—like a truth resting on the tip of her tongue. Something awakened in her. A gift from Paladine, whispered in a dream.
“I’ve got another spell that might help,” she said after a moment. “Zone of Truth. It makes it really hard to lie around me when I cast it. Could be useful if we get someone talking. Though...” she scratched the back of her neck, “...it’s a pretty bold move. Kinda confrontational. Maybe there’s a softer way?”
She looked between them, waiting to see if they had better ideas. She hoped they had better ideas. But she’d offer what she could.
And if all else failed? Well... truth would find its way.
Eyes wide at Sera's generosity and the shear volume of food on display, Merkas grins "Thanks Sera, You're the best. Like I was just saying to Barkly we might need a cook cause the rations were getting so boring but then you do this? Like where'd he find it all we couldn't catch nothin worth eating!" He yammers this as he picks up a full platter of lamb and carries it over to the strider. "Look Barkly! They made some for us too. Here, youhave all this lamb, I will bring you some of the chick..Um is it okay for you to eat chicken? Like that's not some sort of taboo is it? I will bring you a plate of that too, oh and some water, I can heat it up for you too, well a little anyway" The kender busies himself moving the different parts of the meal over to Barkly, each trip back he stuffs his mouth with food, frantically chewing so he can get his mouth empty and keep talking "And I s'pose you're gonna want that rock bed thing you were sleeping in this morning right? I can heat that up for you too, maybe that will help you sleep the night. And the warmth would be good for Gramma at night to. OH! Can Gramma come for a ride with us tomorrow? Be really neat to ride back into town with the hero on your back" On a subsequent trip back to the feast, Merkas stops and looks over the spread, grabbing a small amount of the veggies and nuts before sitting beside Sera as she asks about rooting out the people that set them up. "Well Lady Verhana can speak thieve's cant, kinda odd that she can, so maybe can talk to her without alerting to many others right away. But she might be the one that set us up, though I don't want to believe it of the viscountess. Then there's the rest of the goons that attacked Gramma, and the group connected to the guy that tried to hurt us in the Dwarf on out first night. Definitely want to search out and question the people that Gramma said talked about the caravan, seems to me the let it slip on purpose hoping to cause trouble. So I guess it depends on the response we get when we get back cause straight up telling anyone that we know about the trick will reveal that we're lying about destroying the kobolds. So we watch and see who's happiest about the Letni Inhelk being gone are and we try and get them to admit it. we might even need to do the cleaning really quietly so we don't reveal the Kobolds secret."
His ramblings are not easy to follow with the food being shovelled in his mouth in between sentences but between the sounds and the gesticulating with is hands the overall meaning is clear enough "The making people tell the truth thing is really neat and I think would be useful but do they know you cast it? Like can they choose not to talk or tell truth in a way that is also a lie? I know lots of people that can do that!"
Loyalty Begets Honour
With his meal finished, Sharn got comfortable before his watch and settled down on a softer patch of ground. He yawned, from the plans, but from his fullness.
"I agree that deception will be key, but we won't be able to to be outside of its cloud for a long time. Even if we discover who is behind it with magic, nothing says that others won't attack us as soon as we discover them." His hand hovered unconsciously over his own throat as he said that, though Sharn shifted position. Hopefully his comrades wouldn't have noticed. "The people that knew of the caravan and the mission were few. Fewer still knew that we would be at the Laughing Dwarf." Sharn hummed brushing his mustache. "Dwarf ... perhaps, a dwarf in an influential position is at fault."
“Another option…”. Hastos adds “…is to just keep doing what we’re doing.” He sets his plate down, and takes a small drink of water. “Keep helping the people of Santekh. Eventually, they’ll find us, and we won’t have to make any new enemies by saying the wrong thing.”
”Do enough good, they’ll come for us for sure.” Hastos face is serious. He knows who they'd go after first. He understands how to read lines of attacks to narrow down the options.
“These aren’t likely your standard brutes - unless we’re incredibly lucky. Worst case is it’s someone within the political strata of the city. If that’s the case, they’ll use the whole city against us just like they did with the Kobolds.”
“We’re going to have to be very careful. Desperation is an eager weapon.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
Sera nodded along with Hastos' idea—there was a quiet brilliance in it. Just keep doing good. Keep helping. Let whoever was working against Santech think they were unaware. Let them make the next move. Pretend to be ignorant heroes, all while preparing for the inevitable assault in secret.
She only hoped it would be an assault they could handle.
She hadn’t quite caught Hastos' comment about who they’d target first, but the rush of divine strength she’d felt lately made her feel more confident than ever. A quiet, satisfied smile tugged at her lips as she stood, beginning to unbuckle her armor. “I think we deserve this…” she said, slipping out of her gear until only her light tunic remained.
Right there by the camp, she scooped up a handful of dry sand in one hand and let a few drops of water fall into her other. Bringing her palms together, she whispered, “Thank you, Father…”
The grains of sand shimmered as they touched, igniting into tiny white sparks—and above them, the air shifted. A soft, cool rain began to fall in a ten-foot circle around her, sizzling gently against the warm earth and washing away the sweat and dust of the road.
She tilted her head back, eyes closed as droplets kissed her cheeks, soaking her hair and tunic.
After a few peaceful breaths, she opened one eye and glanced at the others with a half-grin. “Come on. Join me if you want. It’s not every day we get a divine shower in the middle of the desert.”
She stepped aside, leaving space for anyone who wanted to join her under the rain’s gentle blessing. Whether they did or not, the offer stood—this moment of grace was meant for them all. ( cast 2 create water and let it appear as rain )