The Journey Home

<Notes: T’na is on his journey home and the wild source of his sorcery is manifesting itself regularly. I rolled the wild surge table until I got the result that sends T'na to the Astral Plane and then wrote this story about that journey and the manifestations. There is a one in fifty chance that T’na gets transported to the Astral Plane when his Wild Magic flares. I rolled the table until I got the result. It was thirty-two rolls. I rolled the encounter with a Unicorn, then the rapid ten in a row result and tried to merge them. Number 9 in that series of ten was a reincarnate spell that I rolled Stout Halfling, so if it makes sense for T'na to now be a hairless halfling, so be it. I confused raise dead and reincarnate when I originally wrote the story. ...I think I got all but a couple rolls into the story, it’s not always obvious as some of the effects are mundane. Sorry, it’s so long. The list of rolls is at the bottom of the story. -MBS>

The Journey Home

The first few days went by quickly. Heading west while staying low and moving fast. The few groups of horsemen he did encounter were clearly in a hurry and not concerned with the small, hunched figure in the high grass.

It reminded him of his Drumming, all those years ago. Solely focused on a single goal and willing to do whatever it takes. He had to cross the plains, then the mountains, then the Wilds, somehow get over the ocean, maybe get passage on a ship to the City of Order, Toroga or Eldermont…and that was just the first part.

With the beat of the drums echoing in his head as he rushed forward through the night, T’na followed a path layed by the horsemen themselves. Trodden grass wasn’t a road, but it was better than nothing. Knowing the sun would be coming up soon and that he would need a hiding spot to rest for a bit, T’na crossed a small ridge and almost ran into a small camp of horsemen under attack by a small group of undead. Comprised mostly women, children and the elderly, the group was in big trouble…it looked like the warriors were away on a mission.

The humanoid looked like some type of Necromancer…probably not the most powerful based on the dozen or so zombies and a few skeletons it was commanding. The small horde was approaching the camp and the couple of elderly former warriors were standing their ground with long spears that they had dipped in something and ignited, holding them off…for now.

T’na circled around and snuck up behind the Necromancer and drove his sword into his back…only it was like striking air…the hood slipped away, the being twisted in an impossible way and the grinning skull spoke some dark arcane words that hurt his ears to hear as it grabbed T’na. The searing pain where the undead Necromancer gloved hand grabbed T’nas arm was agonizing and it was all he could do to.

<Poof> T’na looked at the undead’s eyes and winked as he disengaged, cast feather fall watching the body fall. It would take around six seconds to get there. He had practiced this move so many times he almost forgot it was a live target…shit…he could feel the pulse…that surge that happened sometimes when he cast the harder spells…his veins were glowing…that was new.

The crunching sounds announced the necromancer had decelerated on impact. To his surprise, the being, obviously heavily damaged, started to push itself up from the ground. The small horde of undead was still attacking. Only one of the elderly warriors was still standing, and he looked injured. An elderly woman of large stature was moving towards the spear of the fallen one.

Hoping not to make things worse, T’na to cast something simple…a firebolt spell at the slowing rising necromancer. The pulse grew and surged, his veins glowed yellow through his green skin, the firebolt burst out of his forestretched hand and sped downward boring straight into the back and spine of the necromancer.  Smoldering, it twisted and fell prone, the zombies slowly turned and looked up at T’na as he slowly drifted towards down and started moving in his direction, seemingly forgetting the small camp.

Why the fuck hadn’t they dropped when he killed the Necromancer…what the fuck has happened to Kempin?! The zombies were slow, but so was his descent. T’na landed in the middle of them, at least five were in reach. Individually, they were not a problem, but in mass…

He could tell at least three of them would hit him and he was already injured from the necromancer’s grasp. Throwing up a magical shield, T’na’s veins glowed and pulsed again, fire started dancing across his skin running up and down his arms, torso and legs, growing in intensity and heat …escalating…growing…until BOOM!

A fireball of the sort that Hemetai casts exploded in all directions from T’na…throwing the burning corpses of the undead back and scorching T’n. His once green skin charred black, his legs were shaking…he was inches from death. Looking at the camp in the distance, he could see them pointing and shouting in his direction. Within seconds he could hear the thunder of the approaching horses. Dammit, the warriors were back…and he didn’t want to meet them in his current state.

Moving as quickly as he could and staying as low as possible, T’na slipped off, and to the side as the horsemen approached the scorched earth that had been his landing zone. That unexpected explosion seemed to have depleted whatever it was causing his veins to glow…how the hell was he going to stay hidden if he started to glow whenever he cast a spell?

Far enough away to take a quick break and bind his wounds, T’na surveyed the westward plains. He still had one healing potion left, but now was not the time to use it. If he was where he thought he was, it would be a few weeks before he could see the mountains of the Azure Kingdom, and then a couple more weeks before he got to them. Without finding a portal, or a painting, or some magical or airborne means of travel, it would take several months to get back. He would save it for a more dire situation…the decision did not give him comfort.

Limping forward, T’na slowly headed west. An ancient Oak tree with a large hollow about thirty feet up was too good to resist. He climbed up the tree and nestled into the hollow, covering himself with a couple of branches and some leaves. The sun had been up, although behind thick clouds for several hours and it would be down for several before he woke again.


The Last of the Blood Weavers

Roarkamn of the Blood Clan was the last of their weavers. The rest had died fighting the lich and closing the portal…he hadn’t died…he wasn’t sure why and didn’t have time to worry about it.

His final instructions were to travel to the Dragon Clan and call in the blood debt…or the Plains of Shronth would be lost to the dead. Most thought the Dragon Clan was a myth, but the Blood Clan knew better. Moving southwest and looking for their signs, Roarkamn rode his mount, Sinclair with all haste until the band of warriors from the Iron Clan saw him.

For the past three days, he had been “enlisted” to help them track a being of some type that had evidently summoned the undead and then destroyed them…also it could fly, but wasn’t flying right now. It was small and had yellow glowing eyes…it was probably injured…and it smelled like sulfur.

The warriors were convinced it was some sort of devil or demon and probably responsible for this invasion of undead. His mount requisitioned for scouting, he was stuck with these idiots, but he was growing impatient and had better things to be doing…

Roarkamn wasn’t so sure this thing was a devil, etc. While he couldn’t scry what type of creature it was, he knew it was alive, not undead, or infernal, or abyssal, or feywild. He couldn’t tell if it was evil, or good, just that it existed…and it was running from a group of goons who thought it was a devil…fucking idiots.

If he announced his departure, they would not just protest, they would kill him for their version of mutiny or desertion. It did not matter, he had better things to do. Once the fires were out and all but the half-asleep night watch were around, he drew the circle, spoke the words and stepped through the portal.

Five miles away in a thicker part of the forest at the base of an ancient oak tree, Roarkamn took stock of his surroundings. He should be closer to the being and further from the oafs on horses that were the Iron Clan. The sun had been down for several hours, and he just had a suspicion that this creature was traveling at night most of the time.

The very slight scuffling sound of leather on bark announced the presence of another…and not far above.

Non - Hostile

He hadn’t been there a second ago…fuck, fuck, fuck…he’s looking up, T’na thought to himself as he climbed down the tree, not completely healed, but much better and definitely rested.

“A goblin? And a young one at that? Why can’t I detect you?” the plainsmen in the odd robes said to T’na in goblin, so perfect it had to be a spell before he was even finished looking up.

T’na dropped to the ground, a dozen or so feet from the odd plainsman. 

“What are you…some type of shaman?” He asked, genuinely curious at this odd person, who had appeared out of nowhere and then didn’t attack.

“No, I am a Weaver. My name is Raorkamn. Most cultures would call me a sorcerer or wizard. You certainly have created quite the buzz with the locals. They will eventually catch up with you, you know. Their trackers are good and you’re on foot, they’re on horses.” The weaver informed T’na in an unfamiliar accent and then continued, “Your kind are strong in the Azure Mountains and I’m sure with the recent events, they could use all the help they can get. Seek Queen Merick…but be warned. Her friends say she is a kindly and wise mystic, but her enemies say she is a powerful and vile sorcerer…I recommend friendship.”

The weaver winked and then just disappeared.

It wasn’t the deepest part of the night yet, he had time. T’na moved forward and almost immediately was at a sprint…for the next day or two, he would be racing horses with only a few hours head start.

It was only one full day before he could see the cloud of dust rising from the band of mounted warriors, he could only assume were the Iron Clan, pursuing him. As far as T’na could tell, there were no more small forest groves, no large hills, or canyons, or even gulleys…just miles and miles of gently rolling plains of wild grass and brush. They would catch up to him in…the thought didn’t have time to finish…the sound of the scream or roar, was the most horrible thing he had ever heard. Cringing in fear, and already in the shadows hiding, T’na watched as the air dimmed, sounds became muted, and the shadow of the huge Draco Lich passed over the Plains traveling towards the northeast.

Turning to look in the direction the Draco Lich had come from, he could see the horde.  Not just a dozen undead, not a couple hundred, maybe a couple thousand. A few of the large ones, and a much larger, and glowing necromancer in the middle of the undead swarm directing the foul beings like a conductor performing a symphony. At least the Draco Lich had passed, T’na thought as he planned his route.


Their approach was loud and obvious, but there was a greater enemy. If he was still in his elf body, he would be less worried, but it was a new day, and if he had to use the cape, he could.

“That’s close enough!” Ekz said as loudly as possible in common. The approaching Iron Clan horsemen came to a stop, carefully scanning the area for the source of those words.

“I’m don’t care why you’re following me, or why you think I’m a devil, but there is a bigger worry! You can see it ahead, can’t you!” T’na pointed towards the oncoming horde. “When it is the undead we face, all the living are on the same side! I am T’nanyo Ekz of the High Goblins of the Wilds, Hero of Eldermont, Dragon and Demon Slayer. I fought on the final battlefield of the Nameless war at the side of Jestak against the Swalduni and Targ horde and neither you nor that fucking horde of undead will stop by from my goal!!!”

A small conical wave appeared in the tall grass as some smaller sized created headed directly towards the oncoming horde of undead. All of the horsemen but one laughed, the soft but firm voice silenced the laughter with one sentence… "One from another land and half our stature strides towards an enemy greater than any of us have ever faced without waiting to see who else will go or if backup is coming…it is we, who have failed the gods…it is why they are quiet”.

He spurred his horse and rode towards the undead horde, while shouting over his shoulder, “Follow me ye who seek death in a land the gods have abandoned! IRON CLAN!!!!”

T’na hadn’t cast any spells, but his veins were starting to glow again…if they followed, he would move around and try to flank the necromancer. Was an undead necromancer really just a lich…fuck. He didn’t know and it didn’t matter…find a way…improvise…adapt…stay hidden. Pretty sure the undead weren’t effected by poison made his assassination plan for this hordes leader any easier.

Killing it would certainly break the focus of the horde, but probably not dispel it…and it might attract the attention of the Draco Lich. T’na shivered just thinking about the feeling of it passing overhead…it was like its shadow was the Plane of Death.

If only he had a dam, or a cliff, or a large pool of oil, or a moat or…a something environmental he could use to fight the horde! All he had was a huge plane of dry grass and a bunch of flammable zombies…and the ability to cast…

He didn’t know enough, if the fire got out of control, he could destroy so many…but then they wouldn’t be zombies or risen. Can’t raise the dead that have been cremated. Fuck, T’na really couldn’t decide what to do and while lost in his thoughts, didn’t hear the horse approach until it was only a dozen meters away.

Uneasy Partners

“No further please”, T’na said loudly enough to make sure he was heard over the horse breaking through the tall grass.

“I am Tyrdal of the Iron Clan, and I too will face the horde! I will not allow a foreigner to stand alone in defense of my home!”, the exceptionally large plainsman announced so loudly T’na was sure most of the planes heard him.

“Your help, as is your bravery, welcome!” T’na stated from a slightly different position in the tall grass, still not revealing himself, before continuing, “Can you create a breeze? Do you have the magic…weavers, I think you call them? Can you create a breeze with your herd or mounts?”

Tyrdal thought for a few minutes while stroking his chin and tilting his head, slightly looking upwards, before asking, “You intend to set them on fire and don’t want to burn down all of Shronth, no?”

“Tyrdal of the Iron Clan, I am honored to meet you. I am a stranger in these lands and unfamiliar with your customs. But, if Emperor Jestak came from here I will always give the people of this realm the benefit of my doubts…I had the honor of serving next to Jestak on the field of battle against the recent Swalduni and Targ invasion.

“I will do what is necessary to get back to my home, but that does not mean I will pass on aiding potential allies. I would like to help and yes, it is my current plan to kill that undead horde by burning them…If the winds can be controlled or influenced, if the clans can move quickly, and avoid the fires, burning the dry grass and wiping out the undead just saves lives…and the lives the fire takes, can’t be brought back.” T’na stated from yet another place in the tall grass.

“I will do it, so none of you will have to carry that burden. Some day, I or one of my progeny, will ask for that favor to be returned.” The shadowy goblin said from yet another angle just as the rest of the band of Iron Clan warriors caught up with Tyrdal.


The Wild Charge

T’na communicated with Tyrdal and let him talk with the rest. The two large ones would be the target of the mounted archers and they stampeded by. The warriors with spears and swords would protect the archers as they passed. Split into multiple groups, they would circle by in waves, keeping a steady stream of missile fire at the two large constructs. The plainsmen’s new friend would set the fires and then go after the lich but be ready for shit going sideways once that happened…magic would be involved and it wasn’t working right, Tyrdal had been hastily informed.

Tyrdal and his horsemen spooked the large herd of buffalo towards the canyon that lead to the undead horde. Approaching from upwind, the herd didn’t smell the stench of death and ran right into them. Not able to turn around, the herd of buffalo only had one escape route and stampeded down the river valley, fleeing the undead horde, and splitting some of that group off as they pursued the living animals…while also creating a slight updraft in the little canyon.

Every six seconds for the next five minutes, small balls of fire launched out of the shadows in the tall grass to points a mile ahead of where the undead horde was generally headed. Veins glowing brighter with each case, three rounds in, the pulsing synced and his veins and eyes exploded with the yellow light, when his vision returned, a unicorn was standing a few feet away in a ten-foot diameter patch of what appeared to be the feywild.

“Oh, you’re in a lot of trouble, here comes ten in a row…don’t slip!” the unicorn said inside T’na’s head as T’na slipped and fell to the ground in a puddle of grease that hadn’t been there a second ago. Pissed off, he stood and cast a spell to absorb elemental damage. As he did so…

  1. His veins pulsed and he felt another explosion or dispersal of wild energy…his bones and ligaments started stretching, cracking, repositioning, his shadow grew longer. Still small, he had grown inches in seconds…and it hurt.
  2. He looked up as the undead horde moved forward, his burn pattern still incomplete. Throwing another fireblast at the tall grass, his veins flashed, the smell of marigolds and roses permeated the air and he was suddenly surrounded by butterflies…he hadn’t even noticed if the blast had hit its target.
  3. Seeing an errant skeleton wandering away from the main horde was an easy target, T’na threw another blast out and again the veins flared, the wild energy surged…and this time the unicorn snorted. His blast incinerated the skeleton.
  4. Still not done with the pattern, and behind the scheduled plan, T’na threw another fire blast at the grass, furthering the coming firestorm…and his veins flared and the wild energy surged and lightnight shot out from T’na in three arcs. One shot into the sky, hitting the dark clouds and stirring the beginnings of thunder. The second shot into one of the larger undead, exploding one of its eyes and leaving a black scorch mark across most of its face. The third formed a loop of some sort and shot back into T’na throwing him back and onto his ass.
  5. Standing back up and slightly injured, T’na started on the next fire blast, only five more after this. The unicorn laughed. As T’na cast the spell, he started to float in the air, just a couple feet off the ground.
  6. Stationary, but not impeded in his motions, T’na cast again and once again was surrounded by butterflies and floral aromas.
  7. T’na looked up to see the large Necromancer, or lich, moving directly in his direction, focused and threw another fire blast…his veins glowed, but not the same shade this time, something bluer. The unicorn looked up and said, “this is gonna hurt, but it’s why I’m here.”
  8. The Necromancer pointed towards T’na and spoke a word that he could not hear. His life, his lifeforce, drained out of him and into the lich’s outstretched finger. He could hear the crunch of his neck bones as they compacted into his spine and his skull collapsed into itself…everything went black…his veins flared the weird blue color again, his skin stretch, bones cracked, ligaments tore.
  9. He was alive, a little shorter, and felt odd …standing behind the Necromancer in the perfect position to attack it and did so without hesitating. Fuck, this really was like the drumming. Detaching its head seemed to have done the trick, but he still had a couple of shots left and now he was out of position. He activated the cloak and went straight up, and then the slow fall spell…his veins glowed, the pulse increased, and then his voice boomed over the plains “Run to the river!” Even he was surprised by how loud he was as he launched the last of the fire bolts he needed to start the inferno.
  10. He came slowly to a soft landing fifty feet from the river with the flames approaching from all directions. The stampede had started a small breeze and that would lead the flames up and out of this small canyon onto the larger plains. T’na cast a fire blast straight into the sky as a flare or marker. Hopefully, it would help some find their way to the small river that was the only respite in the firestorm that was the small canyon they were in.

“Good luck on your journey…you’ll be surprised at how far you go.” The unicorn said as it faded away.

Heading on

Not seeing Tyrdal amongst the plainsmen near him at the river and not confident they were all as open-minded, T’na swam across the river and kept heading west. Confident he had gotten past the undead and more worried about speed, he had forgotten about other threats…

The screech, the pounding beat of its wings and its talons nearly grabbing T’na, corrected that discrepancy. The giant bird, a raptor of some kind, was sure T’na was its next meal.

Spinning, drawing his sword and of course launching a fire blast at it, came almost from muscle memory…his veins pulsed and grew brighter…the giant bird, singed, but not really hurt drew back and then flew off…the air around him seemed to shimmer, there was a popping sound, and then…

<T’na is in the Astral Plane for two rounds…all yours Mark>


The Rolls: 

33- Max Damage on next spell

07 - Fireball on self

27 - Fast Cast. - Spells that normally take an action now take a bonus action

60 - Regain spell slot

46 - Levitate Self

82 - Extra Action

28 - Fast Cast

49 - Can't talk...bubbles come out of mouth 1min

89 - Invisible 1min

65 - Lightning bolt x 3

12 - Grow 10"

04 - See Invisible

01 - Series of ten (1 wild flare every turn for 1min)

48 - Meet a unicorn

19 - Cast Grease on self

34 - Max Damage

79 - Surrounded by butterflies 1min

65 - Lightning x 3

46 - Levitate Self 1min

80 - Butterflies 1min

91 - Reincarnate - kind of have to die first no?

33 - Max Damage

46 - Levitate

94 - Grow one size larger for 1 min

61 - Everything spoken is shouted 1min

69 - Mass Invisibility

78 - Turn into a sheep 1 min

74 - Random person within 60ft is poisoned

56 - Hair falls out

04 - See invisible

88 - Random person within 60ft gains flight for 1min move of 60

31 - Transport to Astral Plane until end of next turn.