Joy listens closely as Jack shares what he saw, her expression softening with quiet relief. “Then he’s trying,”she murmurs, hand resting lightly over her chest where her holy symbol lies. “That’s all anyone can ask at the start of the road.”
She looks on with excitement as Vazo'yn prepares to cast his spell on Randa.
"Very good. Then we have our plan. Jack will transform three of us into clouds while Randa will ferry the rest of us. I will go with Randa, and perhaps others who feel confident enough to stay on her back while she swims," Vazo'yn suggests to the Fellowship.
"Before we go, I can link our minds like I did last night so that we can communicate easily, though we have some time so I will do it in a way so as not to sap my energy."
Unless there are objections, he will lower himself to kneel in a clear patch of ground where he will take out his cards from their pouch. He draws seven of them, one for each of the Fellowship, and lays them face down in a circle. What cards they are does not matter; they are who they are, perfectly suited to the task fate has set upon them. It is the connection between them that will see them through this trial. He begins to whisper, not to hide what he says, but in reverence, calling to his ancestors to draw the Fellowship together in single-minded purpose.
The emerald eyes of the dark-haired man follows with great fascination as the drow seemingly uses a magical deck of cards to connect their minds and turn the elf into some giant creature of the sea, ready to use his own fey magic to turn himself and two brave volunteers into clouds.
"I'll be in the cloud group then. If anything were to go wrong, I would sink like a rock," Joy admits with a slightly apologetic tone, though she is clearly looking forward to being weightless for a while.
"Ooh ooh ooh I want to be a cloud!" Ylis bounces up and down, the wonder of floating through the air bringing immediate joy to the rabbit girl. It's possible she was also looking for anything to distract her from letting Gust go.
She begins to dash in circles making woosh woosh noises with one hand held before her.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
"No, with a kindness and optimism like yours I sincerely doubt anything will be able to drag you down Joy..."The dark-haired man says with a grin and a wink. "...still, you might just enjoy blissfully floating around without having the burden of the world on your shoulders."
"Ah, yes about that..." He says as the excited rabbit girl wooshes around him. "...I'm afraid it won't be so much wooshing as slowly and patiently drifting across the river. I'm sure we can come up with a way for you to do some wooshing later though."
When the others seem ready to cross the river, Jack would take the hands of Joy and Ylis while whispering a soft fey chant, making them all turn into small clouds that can begin the journey across the river.
Jack summons the power of his patron, causing Joy, Ylis, and himself to seem to partially fade from the realm. To the others, their forms seem to barely be visible except for vague outlines of their body shapes. The gentle winds rolling off the mountain toward the west suddenly become like gale winds to their forms. The winds don’t move them, but it does take a conscious effort for them to resist the push of the now battering winds.
They can no longer speak. Fortunately though, Vazo’yn had linked all their minds in silent communication, allowing any experience that they are having to be freely communicated to the others. Vazo’yn also casts polymorph of Randa, causing weapons and armor to meld into her body as her arms become as tree trunks and her legs shrink and split. Her trunk then flattens and becomes bulbous, and spurs form around the edges of her trunk and along her now gargantuan clawed arms.
Her mind dims, and Randa finds herself forgetting… everything. There are things she knows on an instinctual level, like the need to feed and the people around her are non-threatening. She also is left with a keen desire to cross the river. She begins to lumber toward the river and the others pile on her back as she moves. Cranda lurches to a halt and almost throws her massive claw up to pull the creatures from her back, but something inside her tells her to allow it.
She continues her trek, splashing into the quietly rushing river, propelling herself along. The Fellowship gets a sense of the speed of the river as blades of grass and leaves zip past the crew. Cranda plods along, practically unaware of the force of the river.
After about 30 minutes on the water, the other side of the river is within reach. The crew climbs ashore, some with alacrity, some less so. The Fellowship has just enough time to take a breath before another purple wave blows over the party. As before, the wave hits with growing force of impact on the mind. It blows the party out of their changed forms and they topple to the ground. The forest withers and some trees die, becoming dried husks. The party all experiences the purple wave advancing their lives by a comparative 15 years. Everyone, that is, except Joy, who seems visibly unaffected by the fracturing of time.
OOC: Please upgrade to level 15, dump starting weapons and armor, if you haven’t already, for the maximum non-magical versions you want. If you have already gotten magical versions, skip that step. Keep current magical items, but add magical items so that you end with 2 common magical, 3 uncommon, 1 rare. If you wish, you may swap one magical item you currently own for another. After you have finished, please roll a Constitution Saving Throw, DC 15 or take 11 Psychic Damage.
Vazo'yn braces himself against the wave of frailty that draws them ever-closer to the end of their threads. In earlier waves the cascade of memories and experiences as yet unlived tore through his mind unabated, but this time he is prepared. He does not try to fight it, inevitable as it is, but he does direct it, letting the whispers ease into his mind, ordered and intelligible. He sees visions of his future, now his present, and gleans their understanding as they settle to form the bedrock of his older self.
His hold on the spell of transformation has fallen and Randa is herself again. He looks to the rest of the Fellowship, "Are you all okay?"
[[Con save: 20 with Joy's wonderful aura. Cranda... love it, haha.]]
Riven steps ashore, boots sinking for a moment into the soft mud before he presses forward, silent and wary. The purple glow blooms again on the horizon, rushing forward like some fell tide. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t fight it. He’s learned better.
He drops to one knee as the wave hits.
It floods him, not just light, not just sound, but echoes of things he’s never done with hands that are unmistakably his. He sees battles fought in lands he doesn’t recognize, friends won and lost and wisdom earned. The memories tangle, fray, and slip through his fingers like ash on the wind. They are not his, but they leave their mark.
When he rises, his breathing is steadier than it should be.
His cloak, once a dull, battered gray, is now woven with strands of green and copper, alive with sigils that shimmer faintly when he moves. His weapons are altered, sleeker, and an ebony bow rests across his back that feels older than him, yet he is completely familiar with it pulling to the left when an arrow is released.
His expression is calm, measured, distant in a way that suggests his soul has been walking longer than his body has.
He turns, scanning the others.
Then he turns his eyes to the forest. Where once there was vibrant green, now husks can be seen as the forest withers.
He inhales sharply, steadying himself, then speaks into the mental link Vazo’yn maintains:
“We’re not just crossing lands anymore. We’re crossing lifetimes.”
He pauses, narrowing his eyes against the thinning wind.
He moves forward, ahead of the group, bow lowered but ready. And surveys his surroundings for any perceived threat to the group recovering behind him.
As the purple wave builds on the horizon, Joy senses it before she sees it—like a ripple in her very soul. She gasps, her fingers tightening around her holy symbol as the now-familiar hum of temporal fracture rushes toward them. This time, though, her footing holds firm. She plants herself in the earth, eyes wide with determination, and calls inwardly to Lathander.
The world bends, distorts, but her presence becomes an anchor. Her Aura of Protection flares in radiant warmth, sunlight blooming through the purple haze. Those within her reach feel its touch—the grasping pull of time’s erosion dulled, its sting lessened.
As the surge passes, she hurries to Ylis' side and lays a healing hand on her head (Lay on Hands for +5 HP). "I'm alright," she says in answer to Vazo'yn's question, "Riven is right. The time that passes keeps getting longer."
Jacaranda again feels time hammer through her like a lightning storm......she grimaces but shakes it off quicker this time than last but can't contain a groan as memories begin forcibly inserting themselves into her mind.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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" Sounds good, lets do it.", Randa grinned.
Joy listens closely as Jack shares what he saw, her expression softening with quiet relief. “Then he’s trying,” she murmurs, hand resting lightly over her chest where her holy symbol lies. “That’s all anyone can ask at the start of the road.”
She looks on with excitement as Vazo'yn prepares to cast his spell on Randa.
"Very good. Then we have our plan. Jack will transform three of us into clouds while Randa will ferry the rest of us. I will go with Randa, and perhaps others who feel confident enough to stay on her back while she swims," Vazo'yn suggests to the Fellowship.
"Before we go, I can link our minds like I did last night so that we can communicate easily, though we have some time so I will do it in a way so as not to sap my energy."
Unless there are objections, he will lower himself to kneel in a clear patch of ground where he will take out his cards from their pouch. He draws seven of them, one for each of the Fellowship, and lays them face down in a circle. What cards they are does not matter; they are who they are, perfectly suited to the task fate has set upon them. It is the connection between them that will see them through this trial. He begins to whisper, not to hide what he says, but in reverence, calling to his ancestors to draw the Fellowship together in single-minded purpose.
"While being a cloud sounds grand, it would make more sense for me to be in the ferry crew, if there is an issue, I can try and walk to land."
The emerald eyes of the dark-haired man follows with great fascination as the drow seemingly uses a magical deck of cards to connect their minds and turn the elf into some giant creature of the sea, ready to use his own fey magic to turn himself and two brave volunteers into clouds.
"I'll be in the cloud group then. If anything were to go wrong, I would sink like a rock," Joy admits with a slightly apologetic tone, though she is clearly looking forward to being weightless for a while.
"Ooh ooh ooh I want to be a cloud!" Ylis bounces up and down, the wonder of floating through the air bringing immediate joy to the rabbit girl. It's possible she was also looking for anything to distract her from letting Gust go.
She begins to dash in circles making woosh woosh noises with one hand held before her.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
"No, with a kindness and optimism like yours I sincerely doubt anything will be able to drag you down Joy..." The dark-haired man says with a grin and a wink. "...still, you might just enjoy blissfully floating around without having the burden of the world on your shoulders."
"Ah, yes about that..." He says as the excited rabbit girl wooshes around him. "...I'm afraid it won't be so much wooshing as slowly and patiently drifting across the river. I'm sure we can come up with a way for you to do some wooshing later though."
When the others seem ready to cross the river, Jack would take the hands of Joy and Ylis while whispering a soft fey chant, making them all turn into small clouds that can begin the journey across the river.
Jack summons the power of his patron, causing Joy, Ylis, and himself to seem to partially fade from the realm. To the others, their forms seem to barely be visible except for vague outlines of their body shapes. The gentle winds rolling off the mountain toward the west suddenly become like gale winds to their forms. The winds don’t move them, but it does take a conscious effort for them to resist the push of the now battering winds.
They can no longer speak. Fortunately though, Vazo’yn had linked all their minds in silent communication, allowing any experience that they are having to be freely communicated to the others. Vazo’yn also casts polymorph of Randa, causing weapons and armor to meld into her body as her arms become as tree trunks and her legs shrink and split. Her trunk then flattens and becomes bulbous, and spurs form around the edges of her trunk and along her now gargantuan clawed arms.
Her mind dims, and Randa finds herself forgetting… everything. There are things she knows on an instinctual level, like the need to feed and the people around her are non-threatening. She also is left with a keen desire to cross the river. She begins to lumber toward the river and the others pile on her back as she moves. Cranda lurches to a halt and almost throws her massive claw up to pull the creatures from her back, but something inside her tells her to allow it.
She continues her trek, splashing into the quietly rushing river, propelling herself along. The Fellowship gets a sense of the speed of the river as blades of grass and leaves zip past the crew. Cranda plods along, practically unaware of the force of the river.
After about 30 minutes on the water, the other side of the river is within reach. The crew climbs ashore, some with alacrity, some less so. The Fellowship has just enough time to take a breath before another purple wave blows over the party. As before, the wave hits with growing force of impact on the mind. It blows the party out of their changed forms and they topple to the ground. The forest withers and some trees die, becoming dried husks. The party all experiences the purple wave advancing their lives by a comparative 15 years. Everyone, that is, except Joy, who seems visibly unaffected by the fracturing of time.
OOC: Please upgrade to level 15, dump starting weapons and armor, if you haven’t already, for the maximum non-magical versions you want. If you have already gotten magical versions, skip that step. Keep current magical items, but add magical items so that you end with 2 common magical, 3 uncommon, 1 rare. If you wish, you may swap one magical item you currently own for another. After you have finished, please roll a Constitution Saving Throw, DC 15 or take 11 Psychic Damage.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
Try DDB free: Free Rules (2024), premade PCs, adventures, one shots, encounters, SC, homebrew, more
Answers: physical books, purchases, and subbing.
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Ylis CON save +7
HA!
CON save 8
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
((Everyone gets a +5 to their saves because of Joy's aura :). Also 'Cranda' lol.))
Joy CON Save: 26
Giles: Con Save: 22 (w/aura)
((Oh, and everyone has resistance to Psychic Damage because of the aura too.))
Ylis rolls on the ground in pain, ears folded against her head, hands covering her face. She mumbles something into her palms
"When I find you , I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your balls!"
OOC: Working on spells. Will be ready tomorrow.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Jack Lucky Con save: 26
Vazo'yn braces himself against the wave of frailty that draws them ever-closer to the end of their threads. In earlier waves the cascade of memories and experiences as yet unlived tore through his mind unabated, but this time he is prepared. He does not try to fight it, inevitable as it is, but he does direct it, letting the whispers ease into his mind, ordered and intelligible. He sees visions of his future, now his present, and gleans their understanding as they settle to form the bedrock of his older self.
His hold on the spell of transformation has fallen and Randa is herself again. He looks to the rest of the Fellowship, "Are you all okay?"
[[Con save: 20 with Joy's wonderful aura. Cranda... love it, haha.]]
Riven steps ashore, boots sinking for a moment into the soft mud before he presses forward, silent and wary. The purple glow blooms again on the horizon, rushing forward like some fell tide. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t fight it. He’s learned better.
He drops to one knee as the wave hits.
It floods him, not just light, not just sound, but echoes of things he’s never done with hands that are unmistakably his. He sees battles fought in lands he doesn’t recognize, friends won and lost and wisdom earned. The memories tangle, fray, and slip through his fingers like ash on the wind. They are not his, but they leave their mark.
When he rises, his breathing is steadier than it should be.
His cloak, once a dull, battered gray, is now woven with strands of green and copper, alive with sigils that shimmer faintly when he moves. His weapons are altered, sleeker, and an ebony bow rests across his back that feels older than him, yet he is completely familiar with it pulling to the left when an arrow is released.
His expression is calm, measured, distant in a way that suggests his soul has been walking longer than his body has.
He turns, scanning the others.
Then he turns his eyes to the forest. Where once there was vibrant green, now husks can be seen as the forest withers.
He inhales sharply, steadying himself, then speaks into the mental link Vazo’yn maintains:
“We’re not just crossing lands anymore. We’re crossing lifetimes.”
He pauses, narrowing his eyes against the thinning wind.
He moves forward, ahead of the group, bow lowered but ready. And surveys his surroundings for any perceived threat to the group recovering behind him.
Con Save: 18
Perception Check: 18
jacaranda Constitution Saving Throw- 12
As the purple wave builds on the horizon, Joy senses it before she sees it—like a ripple in her very soul. She gasps, her fingers tightening around her holy symbol as the now-familiar hum of temporal fracture rushes toward them. This time, though, her footing holds firm. She plants herself in the earth, eyes wide with determination, and calls inwardly to Lathander.
The world bends, distorts, but her presence becomes an anchor. Her Aura of Protection flares in radiant warmth, sunlight blooming through the purple haze. Those within her reach feel its touch—the grasping pull of time’s erosion dulled, its sting lessened.
As the surge passes, she hurries to Ylis' side and lays a healing hand on her head (Lay on Hands for +5 HP). "I'm alright," she says in answer to Vazo'yn's question, "Riven is right. The time that passes keeps getting longer."
Jacaranda again feels time hammer through her like a lightning storm......she grimaces but shakes it off quicker this time than last but can't contain a groan as memories begin forcibly inserting themselves into her mind.