“Yes, yes, my apologies. I should have provided that information at the start. As a Knight for the people of Embercrest it is important to speak earnestly and with conviction. Sadly the people of Embercrest have been going missing and need those willing to help to solve this mystery. I hope to investigate the disappearances but I need help in this search. I have yet to find what we are dealing with and sadly I do not know many people here so I do not have anyone else in mind. If you have any suggestions I would gladly listen.”
Vakaris regards Ralnor for a quiet moment, studying him more closely now—not just the way he stands, but the tone in his voice, the weight in his words. The mention of Embercrest shifts something behind the dragonborn’s eyes—a flicker of recognition, or perhaps old concern.
He exhales slowly, tail curling once behind him. “People disappearing...” he repeats, low and thoughtful. “You’re right to speak with conviction. The world’s full of idle talkers. Few walk toward the dark when it calls.”
His posture eases slightly, the edge softening from his voice. “I’ve heard rumors myself—nothing clear, nothing solid. But when fear starts changing how people speak, how they move... that’s worth paying attention to.”
He glances over his shoulder, scanning the plaza as if expecting someone to overhear. “I’ll join you. Not because I like mysteries, but because I’ve seen what happens when they’re left to fester.”
A pause, then a sharp nod. “As for others—I sadly do not know anyone else..."
Vakaris steps forward, extending a clawed hand with surprising steadiness. “Let’s find out what’s haunting Embercrest.”
With their shared purpose clear, the two set off toward the portal—the only path out of the Colony and the only way back into Embercrest. The crowd thins behind them, the noise of the merchants’ plaza slowly fading into the rustle of bamboo and the soft thrum of arcane energy near the threshold.
As Ralnor steps through, the cool air of Embercrest greets him—familiar, but heavier now, as if the town itself knows why he’s come.
Beside him, Vakaris unslings a fiery mace from his side. “Let’s hope this mystery gives us something to swing at,” he mutters.
Ralnor and Vakaris had barely arrived when a cry tore through the stillness.
Near the edge of a hanging platform, an old woman reached out—as if startled by something unseen—then was yanked backward with terrifying force. Her body lifted briefly into the air, legs kicking, before vanishing over the side.
A single slipper spiraled down into the fog, disappearing into the depths.
Vakaris cursed, racing to the platform’s edge, but it was too late. The mist below writhed and churned, swallowing the space where she’d fallen like it had opened up just for her.
The branches creaked. The ropes swayed.
And high above the world, the village of Embercrest held its breath—because whatever took her hadn’t climbed up.
“It seems that what we need to swing at is down there. May our convictions never falter and may our weapons strike true.”
Ralnor will attempt to use his smithing tools to create makeshift climbing spikes. With his rope, hammer and quickly crafted spikes he will descend into the unknown.
(OOC: I am hoping that with the rope and spikes I can get advantage on the roll.)
Acrobatics Roll: 7 (14 with advantage)
Or if using a rope and climbing spikes can change it into an Athletic Roll: 11 (18 with advantage)
Ralnor’s boots sink slightly into the murk as he lands, but he doesn’t stumble—the rope goes slack behind him as he scans the boggy gloom. The air is heavy, clinging to his skin with a subtle sting. A faint shimmer rolls across the mist near the ground—a quiet, almost imperceptible shimmer of rot and chemicals laced in the very air itself.
This isn’t just any swamp.
The vegetation is twisted, bulbous pods clinging to the trunks of trees like cysts. Fungal growths pulse faintly beneath the surface of the water. A half-submerged root system nearby hisses softly, releasing small puffs of iridescent vapor.
Toxic.
The longer one lingers here, the more dangerous it becomes. And judging by the bones tangled in ivy-like vines near one of the trees, that danger isn’t hypothetical.
(OOC: lol I thought it was more of a chase but ya climbing 10 miles down sounds good. Oops. Also no problem, with work and father's day I have been really busy this week.)
Exhausted but focused Ralnor's first thought is the search for that thing. Turning to Vakaris before continuing the search.
“We must find that creature with haste. There still may be time to help.”
Ralnor looks for any clues about where the creature went.(Perception Roll: 10 or Survival Roll: 20)
The swamp offers no clear answer—only vague impressions and a lingering sense of something unnatural.
Ralnor scans the muck around the platform’s base, stepping carefully between root-knotted hillocks and shimmering puddles of stagnant water. With a perception roll of 10, he picks up signs—but not the right ones. Drag marks carved into the damp earth look promising, maybe made by claws or talons… but they trail off oddly, as if whatever made them simply ceased to exist a few feet in.
A rustle behind a tree startles him, but it’s only a swamp gull fluttering off, wings flapping loudly in the oppressive mist.
To Ralnor’s mind, this feels like a predator’s territory—something hidden in the fog, stalking from beyond sight. He might not realize the truth yet—that the force he’s hunting isn’t a beast at all—but the dread clings to his thoughts like the mist on his armor.
In truth, traces of residual magic shimmer faintly in the air—an arcane tug that left no physical trail. But without magical awareness, it remains elusive to Ralnor’s senses.
He’s close to the right path, but walking the wrong trail.
Ralnor turns towards Vakaris with a look of uncertainty. He continues to move forward but a little slower than other times during this adventure.
“My ability of conversion far outstrips my tracking skills. I fear we are being hunted yet I do not possess the means to sense our foe. Do you have any abilities that could help this situation?”
During the moment of silence before Vakaris awnsers Ralnor will start to increase his speed.
As Ralnor breaks into a run, the air itself seems to shudder—and from the mist ahead, two flickering lights ignite in eerie silence. Pale green flames hovering in the gloom, shifting like candlelight caught in a slow, sickly wind.
Then they move.
The Poison Wisps glide through the fog like drifting embers, but there's malevolence in their dance. The very air around them hisses and withers, plants curling into blackened threads as the toxic aura pulses outward. No solid form, just vapor and venom and will.
Vakaris immediately drops into a defensive crouch, shouting “Eyes on you, Ralnor! Don’t let them close!”
The wisps pulse once, then surge forward—one circling low, the other sweeping wide as if to flank. Their glow intensifies with every heartbeat, ready to unleash what passes for wrath.
This is no ordinary fight. These aren’t creatures—they’re poison given shape, and they won’t bleed.
Ralnor looks at Vakaris for but a moment. Standing in front of Vakaris, Ralnor will draw his sword.
“Sadly all I have is my sword and my words. I fear my words will do little against those creatures. It seems as if they might not bleed but I shall gladly find out IF THEY BURN!”
With a slight flick of his sword a radiant glow flows through his blade. Ralnor does not charge but if the creatures get within range of him he will attack using his magic.
True Strike to Hit: 13 Damage: 10 Radiant
If the attack hits Ralnor will bolster it with searing smite: Damage 3 Fire damage and 1 fire damage at the start of the creature’s turn.
Every turn the creature makes a DC 13 Con save or takes more fire damage.
Also on a hit the creature's first attack roll is at disadvantage.
As Ralnor’s sword ignites with radiant light, the mist recoils—not from heat, but from the conviction behind the flame. His stance is firm, a knight undaunted. The Poison Wisps, however, do not pause. They glide toward him on currents of toxic air, drawn by light and life.
The first wisp sweeps in—and just before it closes the distance—
Slash! Radiant steel cuts through the vapor with divine fury. The hit connects!
((Hit confirmed: AC beaten with a 13!
Radiant Damage: 10
Searing Smite triggers: +3 Fire immediately
Start of Wisp's turn: +1 Fire, DC 13 Con save or continue burning))
The wisp erupts into a brilliant green-white burst as radiant light meets poisonous shadow. Its glow stutters violently. Even for an entity of ether, that burns. And now it’s kindled—flames licking at its incorporeal edges. Its form is unstable, as if it's struggling to hold itself together.
Its first retaliation lashes out reflexively—but that attack now swings with disadvantage. Vakaris tightens his grip on the axe behind Ralnor, ready to intercept the second wisp if it makes a move.
As the wisp reels from the searing light still clinging to it, Vakaris seizes the opening. He charges forward, obsidian mace gleaming with ember-like veins, and with a roar that echoes through the trees, he swings.
Effect: The wisp ignites, its form distorting as both the lingering smite and Vakaris’s blow compound the assault.
But the real impact comes from the radiant afterburn—the wisp's defenses unravel completely. The fire dances erratically, but the divine light pulses again from Ralnor’s sword, and it’s too much.
The first Poison Wisp bursts, releasing a sharp hiss as it evaporates into glittering spores and hissing vapor, leaving only the faint scent of burned lilies and sulfur behind.
The second wisp—still circling—is now flickering wildly, almost pulsing in panic.
Vakaris snarls. “They don’t like your sword. Keep it glowing.”
This was just one clash—but the message is clear: divine light burns away whatever unnatural essence these things are made of.
With a high-pitched whine, the Poison Wisp suddenly flares to twice its size before collapsing in on itself—then detonates in a radius of noxious green fog!
With both Ralnor and Vakaris bracing themselves—and their Constitution saves successful—the Toxic Burst explodes around them, but they stand firm. The poisonous wave scalds the air, hissing across armor and skin, but thanks to their resilience and preparation, they weather the worst of it.
Ralnor and Vakaris take 3 damage each (half of 5 but rounded up).
The fog begins to disperse, faint streaks of blackened steam drifting upward as the last wisp flickers and dissipates into a dim hiss of dissolving toxin. The threat is gone—for now.
Vakaris coughs once, blinking through the sting in his eyes. “These spirits bite harder than they look,” he growls. “If there’s more like that deeper in… we’ll need more than glowing swords.”
Ralnor stands tall, seared but unbroken. The knight’s blade still faintly glows with divine energy, its heat a warning to whatever else lurks in the Swamps Below.
Silence settles again—but now, somewhere ahead, faint ripples in the fog hint at movement. The swamp is reacting. Watching. Changing.
Ooc: I already did the dice rolls for Ralnor and Vakaris, and I added toxic ectoplasm to Ralnor's inventory, and I adjusted the values of items in Ralnor's inventory, and I'll go ahead and tick off the HP for you.
Ralnor stays focused with the task ahead. In the back of his head Ralnor was wishing he had gotten a crossbow before venturing into this swamp.
“It would be best if we work quickly to find the creature that plagues Embercrest and return to safety. Let us continue to search for the creature that has been taking people.”
With that Ralnor puts his sword away and continues to venture deeper into the unknown searching for the creature that they had seen in Embercrest.
Ooc: let's pause for a bit, because we might be getting some new players who can help you, so I'll need to focus on them and get them to your part of the story.
Besides, you are NOT going to want to fight the boss on your own.
DM tips: Vay likes to collect materials. If you tell him about the items that can be obtained in Embercrest, he might be interested in coming along.
DM tips: NPC characters have limited HP. If an NPC falls to 0 HP, then a Canine Golem will drag them back to the Colony.
Ralnor gives Vay a nod.
“Understandable.”
Turning to Vakaris.
“Yes, yes, my apologies. I should have provided that information at the start. As a Knight for the people of Embercrest it is important to speak earnestly and with conviction. Sadly the people of Embercrest have been going missing and need those willing to help to solve this mystery. I hope to investigate the disappearances but I need help in this search. I have yet to find what we are dealing with and sadly I do not know many people here so I do not have anyone else in mind. If you have any suggestions I would gladly listen.”
DM / Vakaris Emberfang:
Vakaris regards Ralnor for a quiet moment, studying him more closely now—not just the way he stands, but the tone in his voice, the weight in his words. The mention of Embercrest shifts something behind the dragonborn’s eyes—a flicker of recognition, or perhaps old concern.
He exhales slowly, tail curling once behind him. “People disappearing...” he repeats, low and thoughtful. “You’re right to speak with conviction. The world’s full of idle talkers. Few walk toward the dark when it calls.”
His posture eases slightly, the edge softening from his voice. “I’ve heard rumors myself—nothing clear, nothing solid. But when fear starts changing how people speak, how they move... that’s worth paying attention to.”
He glances over his shoulder, scanning the plaza as if expecting someone to overhear. “I’ll join you. Not because I like mysteries, but because I’ve seen what happens when they’re left to fester.”
A pause, then a sharp nod. “As for others—I sadly do not know anyone else..."
Vakaris steps forward, extending a clawed hand with surprising steadiness. “Let’s find out what’s haunting Embercrest.”
DM / fast travel:
With their shared purpose clear, the two set off toward the portal—the only path out of the Colony and the only way back into Embercrest. The crowd thins behind them, the noise of the merchants’ plaza slowly fading into the rustle of bamboo and the soft thrum of arcane energy near the threshold.
As Ralnor steps through, the cool air of Embercrest greets him—familiar, but heavier now, as if the town itself knows why he’s come.
Beside him, Vakaris unslings a fiery mace from his side. “Let’s hope this mystery gives us something to swing at,” he mutters.
Embercrest awaits.
DM:
Ralnor and Vakaris had barely arrived when a cry tore through the stillness.
Near the edge of a hanging platform, an old woman reached out—as if startled by something unseen—then was yanked backward with terrifying force. Her body lifted briefly into the air, legs kicking, before vanishing over the side.
A single slipper spiraled down into the fog, disappearing into the depths.
Vakaris cursed, racing to the platform’s edge, but it was too late. The mist below writhed and churned, swallowing the space where she’d fallen like it had opened up just for her.
The branches creaked. The ropes swayed.
And high above the world, the village of Embercrest held its breath—because whatever took her hadn’t climbed up.
It had reached up to take her.
Ooc: if there's a way that people can access the Swamps Below, tell me now. Otherwise, I'll have you jump with faith (and an acrobatics check).
Ralnor looks over the edge.
“It seems that what we need to swing at is down there. May our convictions never falter and may our weapons strike true.”
Ralnor will attempt to use his smithing tools to create makeshift climbing spikes. With his rope, hammer and quickly crafted spikes he will descend into the unknown.
(OOC: I am hoping that with the rope and spikes I can get advantage on the roll.)
Acrobatics Roll: 7 (14 with advantage)
Or if using a rope and climbing spikes can change it into an Athletic Roll: 11 (18 with advantage)
Ooc: sorry I took so long, I have been playing No Man's Sky on Nintendo Switch 2.
Ooc: so, uh, Ralnor and Vakaris are actually climbing down the trunk of a 10-mile tall tree? Lol
DM:
Ralnor’s boots sink slightly into the murk as he lands, but he doesn’t stumble—the rope goes slack behind him as he scans the boggy gloom. The air is heavy, clinging to his skin with a subtle sting. A faint shimmer rolls across the mist near the ground—a quiet, almost imperceptible shimmer of rot and chemicals laced in the very air itself.
This isn’t just any swamp.
The vegetation is twisted, bulbous pods clinging to the trunks of trees like cysts. Fungal growths pulse faintly beneath the surface of the water. A half-submerged root system nearby hisses softly, releasing small puffs of iridescent vapor.
Toxic.
The longer one lingers here, the more dangerous it becomes. And judging by the bones tangled in ivy-like vines near one of the trees, that danger isn’t hypothetical.
(OOC: lol I thought it was more of a chase but ya climbing 10 miles down sounds good. Oops. Also no problem, with work and father's day I have been really busy this week.)
Exhausted but focused Ralnor's first thought is the search for that thing. Turning to Vakaris before continuing the search.
“We must find that creature with haste. There still may be time to help.”
Ralnor looks for any clues about where the creature went.(Perception Roll: 10 or Survival Roll: 20)
DM:
The swamp offers no clear answer—only vague impressions and a lingering sense of something unnatural.
Ralnor scans the muck around the platform’s base, stepping carefully between root-knotted hillocks and shimmering puddles of stagnant water. With a perception roll of 10, he picks up signs—but not the right ones. Drag marks carved into the damp earth look promising, maybe made by claws or talons… but they trail off oddly, as if whatever made them simply ceased to exist a few feet in.
A rustle behind a tree startles him, but it’s only a swamp gull fluttering off, wings flapping loudly in the oppressive mist.
To Ralnor’s mind, this feels like a predator’s territory—something hidden in the fog, stalking from beyond sight. He might not realize the truth yet—that the force he’s hunting isn’t a beast at all—but the dread clings to his thoughts like the mist on his armor.
In truth, traces of residual magic shimmer faintly in the air—an arcane tug that left no physical trail. But without magical awareness, it remains elusive to Ralnor’s senses.
He’s close to the right path, but walking the wrong trail.
Ralnor turns towards Vakaris with a look of uncertainty. He continues to move forward but a little slower than other times during this adventure.
“My ability of conversion far outstrips my tracking skills. I fear we are being hunted yet I do not possess the means to sense our foe. Do you have any abilities that could help this situation?”
During the moment of silence before Vakaris awnsers Ralnor will start to increase his speed.
DM:
As Ralnor breaks into a run, the air itself seems to shudder—and from the mist ahead, two flickering lights ignite in eerie silence. Pale green flames hovering in the gloom, shifting like candlelight caught in a slow, sickly wind.
Then they move.
The Poison Wisps glide through the fog like drifting embers, but there's malevolence in their dance. The very air around them hisses and withers, plants curling into blackened threads as the toxic aura pulses outward. No solid form, just vapor and venom and will.
Vakaris immediately drops into a defensive crouch, shouting “Eyes on you, Ralnor! Don’t let them close!”
The wisps pulse once, then surge forward—one circling low, the other sweeping wide as if to flank. Their glow intensifies with every heartbeat, ready to unleash what passes for wrath.
This is no ordinary fight. These aren’t creatures—they’re poison given shape, and they won’t bleed.
Ralnor looks at Vakaris for but a moment. Standing in front of Vakaris, Ralnor will draw his sword.
“Sadly all I have is my sword and my words. I fear my words will do little against those creatures. It seems as if they might not bleed but I shall gladly find out IF THEY BURN!”
With a slight flick of his sword a radiant glow flows through his blade. Ralnor does not charge but if the creatures get within range of him he will attack using his magic.
True Strike to Hit: 13 Damage: 10 Radiant
If the attack hits Ralnor will bolster it with searing smite: Damage 3 Fire damage and 1 fire damage at the start of the creature’s turn.
Every turn the creature makes a DC 13 Con save or takes more fire damage.
Also on a hit the creature's first attack roll is at disadvantage.
DM / battle:
As Ralnor’s sword ignites with radiant light, the mist recoils—not from heat, but from the conviction behind the flame. His stance is firm, a knight undaunted. The Poison Wisps, however, do not pause. They glide toward him on currents of toxic air, drawn by light and life.
The first wisp sweeps in—and just before it closes the distance—
Slash! Radiant steel cuts through the vapor with divine fury. The hit connects!
((Hit confirmed: AC beaten with a 13!
Radiant Damage: 10
Searing Smite triggers: +3 Fire immediately
Start of Wisp's turn: +1 Fire, DC 13 Con save or continue burning))
The wisp erupts into a brilliant green-white burst as radiant light meets poisonous shadow. Its glow stutters violently. Even for an entity of ether, that burns. And now it’s kindled—flames licking at its incorporeal edges. Its form is unstable, as if it's struggling to hold itself together.
Its first retaliation lashes out reflexively—but that attack now swings with disadvantage. Vakaris tightens his grip on the axe behind Ralnor, ready to intercept the second wisp if it makes a move.
These spirits may not bleed, but they can burn.
DM / Vakaris in battle:
As the wisp reels from the searing light still clinging to it, Vakaris seizes the opening. He charges forward, obsidian mace gleaming with ember-like veins, and with a roar that echoes through the trees, he swings.
The hit lands.
Bludgeoning Damage: Let’s roll... 1d6 → 💥 5 damage
Fire Damage: 1d4 → 🔥 2 damage
Effect: The wisp ignites, its form distorting as both the lingering smite and Vakaris’s blow compound the assault.
But the real impact comes from the radiant afterburn—the wisp's defenses unravel completely. The fire dances erratically, but the divine light pulses again from Ralnor’s sword, and it’s too much.
The first Poison Wisp bursts, releasing a sharp hiss as it evaporates into glittering spores and hissing vapor, leaving only the faint scent of burned lilies and sulfur behind.
The second wisp—still circling—is now flickering wildly, almost pulsing in panic.
Vakaris snarls. “They don’t like your sword. Keep it glowing.”
This was just one clash—but the message is clear: divine light burns away whatever unnatural essence these things are made of.
DM / battle:
With a high-pitched whine, the Poison Wisp suddenly flares to twice its size before collapsing in on itself—then detonates in a radius of noxious green fog!
With both Ralnor and Vakaris bracing themselves—and their Constitution saves successful—the Toxic Burst explodes around them, but they stand firm. The poisonous wave scalds the air, hissing across armor and skin, but thanks to their resilience and preparation, they weather the worst of it.
Ralnor and Vakaris take 3 damage each (half of 5 but rounded up).
The fog begins to disperse, faint streaks of blackened steam drifting upward as the last wisp flickers and dissipates into a dim hiss of dissolving toxin. The threat is gone—for now.
Vakaris coughs once, blinking through the sting in his eyes. “These spirits bite harder than they look,” he growls. “If there’s more like that deeper in… we’ll need more than glowing swords.”
Ralnor stands tall, seared but unbroken. The knight’s blade still faintly glows with divine energy, its heat a warning to whatever else lurks in the Swamps Below.
Silence settles again—but now, somewhere ahead, faint ripples in the fog hint at movement. The swamp is reacting. Watching. Changing.
Ooc: I already did the dice rolls for Ralnor and Vakaris, and I added toxic ectoplasm to Ralnor's inventory, and I adjusted the values of items in Ralnor's inventory, and I'll go ahead and tick off the HP for you.
Ralnor stays focused with the task ahead. In the back of his head Ralnor was wishing he had gotten a crossbow before venturing into this swamp.
“It would be best if we work quickly to find the creature that plagues Embercrest and return to safety. Let us continue to search for the creature that has been taking people.”
With that Ralnor puts his sword away and continues to venture deeper into the unknown searching for the creature that they had seen in Embercrest.
Ooc: let's pause for a bit, because we might be getting some new players who can help you, so I'll need to focus on them and get them to your part of the story.
Besides, you are NOT going to want to fight the boss on your own.