Sand School

Session Three


The party found themselves balancing atop the uncomfortably small surface of a sheer mesa overlooking Roost, locked in combat against an orange-clad goliath and his kobold brethren. These nefarious ne’er-do-wells had dammed the town’s water supply, and our heroes rose to the occasion to reclaim what was rightfully Roost’s.

Despite a few solid hits — including one that temporarily turned Toli into an impromptu aviator, aided by their aquatic amigo — and a nasty side-effect of the kobolds’ strange powers that stole the water from their bodies, the party held their own. The dwarven brothers that accompanied them succeeded in their demolitions, destroying the dam, though one of them nearly lost his life in the process thanks to tripping over their own equipment while fleeing the blast radius.

Thanks to a flurry of ferocious strikes from the bite-sized barbarian’s oversized instruments of obliteration, a vindictive vendetta against a kobold’s face fueled by the fracturing of the minotaur’s favorite weapon, and an unorthodox medical fix by the khopesh-wielding goliath, the party was able to achieve their goal with no losses.

They triumphantly returned to Roost, where Gyn’s eyes began to sparkle in that way that made the ladies uncomfortable as his mind began to work on ways to more efficiently supply the city with the source of sparkling water that they had liberated. He drew up his plans and the party scattered, some intent on finding ways to assist, and some intent on just staying out of the way.

Toli and Malik recruited Snake’s assistance in seeking out some satisfying spirits, soon joined by a crestfallen Vertimer who had decided it would be in everyone’s best interests if he occupied himself with something other than assisting the artificer. They stumbled upon the traveling caravan of Dr. Bones, a gaunt, pale fellow with a bit of a chip on his shoulder and questionable taste in facial hair. After a bit of bartering, they walked away with whiskey, insisting that Snake sample it and only remembering when it was too late that she had a particular effect on the liquids she touched. The three of them sadly stared at their new bottle of sparkling water as they trudged away.

Meanwhile, Atarax and Annora had chosen to help Gyn with his architectural adventures, the former donning a supervisory role and the latter displaying more of her inexplicable bouts of impossible strength. They worked through the day, even as strange visions of dead birds began to float behind their eyes. As the project neared its completion, the visions became reality, as the air around them filled with the ghastly avian apparitions; quick-thinking by the templar remedied this, as he used a turqouise as a medium to block the specters from assaulting them. Still, no one understood why the birds seemed so terrified.

As night fell and the party settled down, Snake uncharacteristically floated off on her own, trailed by a couple of concerned party members who witnessed as she curled up around a tree and vanished. Confused, the party bedded down for the night, none of them suspecting that when they awoke, they would find themselves sequestered in the center of a silent hurricane, with only a sharp-dressed crow there to greet them.



Darkness was falling, but the gloom falling over the camp wasn’t just because of the twilight. Annora was quieter than she usually was, and even Snake couldn’t rouse her out of it. She sat, staring into the fire for over an hour. Garad muttered something and Snake moved her attention to him briefly. He was lying on his cot, still seemingly recuperating from his fight with the dragon. Although he could get up and move for a while, he was still nowhere near full-strength, and spent most of his time lying down.

Suddenly Annora was standing. Even she wasn’t sure why, but Garad was beginning to annoy her with his illness. He should be better now. He just had no motivation. Well, it was high time someone gave him some. She stalked over, a scowl on her face, and stood with her hands on her hips, bent over Garad. Her veil flared in the moonlight, causing Garad to glance up. “Oh, hello, Annora! Could you get me a gl—”


Annora gulped, and stood back, not sure where that had come from, as the rest of the group looked up in confusion at the tirade from the young girl. What was more surprising though was the speed at which Garad had jumped to his feet. He stood nearly at attention in front of Annora, shifting nervously from foot to foot, and as soon as it was clear there was no more shouting at him to be had, nearly scurried as he rushed off to find a glass of water.

Annora followed him, shrugging off any attempt at conversation with the others. She found him at the water bowl, drinking slowly. “Um… I’m sorry for yelling at you, I don’t really know what came over me…”

Garad turned to face her, about to respond, but stopped, peering down at her as her veil appeared to be loosening itself from her face. “Annora, your vei—mmph!” For the second time that evening his words were cut off as the veil suddenly launched itself at him, covering his face. He reached up to try to tear it off, but he found not a veil, but a helmet covering his head. His mouth moved, but no sound came from it. After a moment had passed he lowered his head, nodded, then raised his head and spoke in a gravelly voice. “You were right about one thing Annora. It’s past time I start taking care of myself. And its time I started making amends as well.”

Session Three

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