D&D 5E Tales From The Awning Pothole

[BoldItalic]

Climbing a rocky trail up towards the nearest peak, they reached a place where a sheer cliff overhung the trail rather ominously. Carved into the rock was an inscription that said

ATTAN'S PEAK
↑
TWO MILES STRAIGHT UP

You have reached a milestone.
You may take a short rest and level up here before continuing.​

As they stopped and gathered around to contemplate the significance of the inscription, Tasha offered Claw a ham sandwich. "Have a lunch?" she inquired. But before ClaW could reply, there was a bone-shaking roar from somewhere above.

"Backs to the wall!" shouted Albert as an enormous cascade of snow and boulders suddenly crashed down on them and they were plunged into a kind of white darkness.

Tippy held up his hammer and cast Light on it. "Is everyone alright?" he called and was reassured when everyone replied, albeit rather shakily. "Keep still, don't try to move," he added, "That was an avalanche. We're all trapped in the space under this overhang, just a few feet wide and about fifty feet long as far as I can see. Thank Isis we weren't caught out in the open."

Albert tried probing the wall of snow with his TotM pole and found it was solid everywhere. "So, how do we get out?" he asked. "Anyone got any useful tunnelling magic?"

Inannyunot conjured up some shovels and handed them out. "We need to dig a tunnel big enough for us to pass one at a time and long enough to get along the trail past this fall. No idea how far we will have to dig. We may have to take turns."

"Wait a bit, I'll try to reconnoiter," offered Ha! then disappeared for a few minutes before coming back. "Well, there's good news and there's bad news," she reported. "The good news is, you'll only have to dig about ten feet to get out. The bad news is, the trail has been obliterated in both directions and we are surrounded by a sheer drop on all sides."

"No matter," said Inannyunot, "If we can dig our way out, I can get us all safely down the mountainside with a few Feather Fall spells. Some of us could Fly but I don't think I can do that for everyone."

"Or, when we get out, I could summon a dragon to carry us," suggested Tasha.

"Good," said Tippy, taking command, "Let's start digging."

Little did they suspect ...

---

Not far away, Bar-De-Door was bullying an ogre. The ogre was bullying some hobgoblins and the hobgoblins were each bullying a team of orcs. The orcs were grunting and straining to haul huge ballistas into position over the rocky terrain; these would be aimed at the adventurers at the moment they dug their way out of the avalanche. But the ballistas were not loaded with stones; nothing so simple. They were loaded with high-level clerics who had been enslaved and driven mad with illicit substances until the only action they were capable of was to cast Antimagic Field spells. The clerics would be hurled at the adventurers and the antimagic fields would negate the wizard's Feather Fall spells, so that all the adventurers would helplessly plunge thousands of feet down and be dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Bar-De-Door had evilly calculated that their chances of surviving the fall were so low as to be laughable. He thrashed the ogre even harder as he thought about it.

---

Tippy (Cleric-6; 51hp; Hammer, Oyster Shell, 17 g.p.) Inspiring Leader.
Inannyunot (true name ₼₼₼₼₼₼₼₼, aka Goat) (Wizard-6 Conjurer; 32hp; 3x/day headbutt attack; books, clay tablet, Oyster Shell)
Albert (Sinister Thief-6; 39hp; 3 daggers, magic club, 26 g.p., TotM pole, funny bone) Dungeon Delver
Tasha (Half-Orc/Half-Orc Fighter-5 Battlemaster; 59hp; Versatile Double Halberd +1 of Dragon Summoning & Sling, 17 g.p.) Heavy Armor Master
Ha! Fling! (Hobbit of The Planes; three stones, griffon feather hat, 17 g.p.)
ClaW (Lobster; Tippy's ex-familiar; Boomerang) Magic Initiate
Micromanage (aka Mike; ClaW's familiar; Miniature Human Wizard-½; Knobbly Staff, Pointy Hat)
Jones (Corporal; from stores and requisitions)

After levelling up, Tippy has gained Channel Divinity - Read Thoughts; Inannyunot has gained Benign Transposition; Tasha has gained Extra Attack; Albert has gained Expertise in Sleight of Hand and Performance; and Jones has been promoted to Corporal.

 

[BoldItalic]

After hours of toil, taking turns to dig, they felt they were near to reaching their goal. Tasha was using her halberd to reach right into the end of their tunnel, when it dislodged the last boulder and suddenly she saw daylight. "We're through!" she called, "About time, too!"

ClaW scuttled up to the hole and peered out. He didn't like what he saw, so he scuttled back. "There are some very big catapults pointing right at us," he reported. "And a lot of orcs milling about near them."

"Are they centre-torsion overlock trebuchets? Or Parnian ballistas with hide-bound carriage stops?" wondered Corporal Jones.

"This calls for plan B," decided Tasha, rudely ignoring Jones. So saying, she pushed her magic halberd through the hole and twirled it round and round to summon a dragon. After a few moments, a dragon duly arrived and hovered outide the hole. A huge furry paw started pulling at the snow and rocks around the hole, then a very large eye peered in and scutinised those within. "Oh, it's you lot again. I might have known," said Mušḫuššu.

Meanwhile, the orcs waited for orders from the hobgoblins and the hobgoblins waited for orders from the ogre. They were non-plussed by the sudden arrival of a mythological beast who was the clearly the pet of a powerful god and they felt a bit out-tiered, if the truth be known. It looked to them as if the dragon was tearing at the rocks to get at the trapped people to eat them for itself, and that wasn't what they wanted at all.

Bar-De-Door decided what to do.

I FIRE THE BALLISTAS AT THE DRAGON​

 

[rgoodbb]

I FIRE THE BALLISTAS AT THE DRAGON​

The three mighty bolts soared through the air, their blackened side-spikes hungry to find bloody purchase.
Mušḫuššu heard the whistle of the projectiles and had enough time to turn, around but the colossal bolts were headed straight for the dragon's torso.​

All three at once stopped in mid flight. In fact every living thing stopped still. No-one could move. Not our heroes, not the orcs or Bar De-Door, not even the dragon. All were fixed in place. Still alive, but unmoving. All felt the presence of something above. It lowered itself down. as did another, and another until dozens of spherical aberrations slowly descended. Each was firing off a specific ray. A telekinetic eye-beam aimed at all the living and moving things around.

"Now." Said Bethany, "This is a great spot for a picnic." She felt happy that she had found the right place. It was nearing lunchtime and they had found some food along the way. Several arctic sheep fell and splattered on the floor. They would go perfectly with their pre-prepared hard boiled eggs. The rest of the beholders settled with a bounce and hover and travel rugs were unfolded and hampers opened.

 

[BoldItalic]

You can't do that! We haven't rolled initiative yet!
Saving throws! We get saving throws every turn!
There aren't any turns! That's the point! We haven't rolled initiative yet!
I can still use class features, can't I?
Not if you can't take actions!
So what are we - petrified?
No, we're still alive. We must be paralysed.
But the dragon gets immunity!
Only to fire and cold.
Can we still talk?
We should be able to, technically we're still in the exploration pillar.
Except we're paralysed.
True.
I've thought of something.
Go on?
When did we last take a long rest?
We only just took a short one.
Yes, but when did we last take a long one?
It was a while ago, true.
Can we actually take a rest while we're paralysed?
Why not? The whole point of a rest is that you do nothing. We'll be really doing nothing.
Can't argue with that.
Are we all agreed, then?
Yup. Let's give it a try.​

We take a long rest.

Who's got the pizza?
It's pimento and apricot, is that okay with everyone?​

 

[rgoodbb]

The beholders had their lunch and each took it in turn to go behind a rock. After each time, a tiny baby spectator beholder emerged with them. The beauty of beholders soon flew off to wherever beholders fly this time in the snowy mountains.

As they left the area the rays (or was it beams. I can never remember) lost their power. Fortunately Mušḫuššu's (far too many s'ss) grip broke first and as the dragon dived, its wing caught the snow and the whole party fell fluffily to the soft but cold cushioned floor.

They were all full of complaint and kerfuffle when they all heard a noise. It was a purring, no a twitching, no a chirping, no a cooing, no a crooning noise. It was coming from behind a rock.

ClaW instinctively flung a boomerang around the large stone boulder. It whirred round and reappeared with a spectator baby beholder clinging to the top of it. That was my trick, thought ClaW, but look at where I am now. look how much I have grown.

"Well we can't keep it."

"Why not?"

"It's evil."

"who says."

"They are all evil."

"Learned not innate. Nurtured evil not nature."

"Who says."

"It's so cute."

"It will be the death of us all if it is allowed to grow"

"We can't just abandon it."

"We can't have eight in a party. The table's not big enough and the DM's already gone grey."

At that point the spectator erupted into tears. Double tears. it started to shiver, and of course at that point everyone agreed that 8 in a party was not so bad. The spectator sneezed and shot lemon juice out of one of it's eyes. It hit Tasha in the eyes and she thought for a moment that she had been blinded but the shock wore off and everybody wondered what the other three deadly eyes would emit........................

Plus they needed a name......................

 

[BoldItalic]

The baby spectator floated unsteadily over to Ha!, crooned "mamma, mamma" and vomited over her smock in an endearing way. The others looked at her hopefully. Maybe it would become her problem?

Ha! held out her stones. "Guard," she said, "Guard stones."

"Croon. Stones. Baby guard stones for mamma. Gurgle."

To test the arrangement, Ha! flung a stone a few feet away into the snow. The baby spectator followed it and hovered over it protectively. There seemed to be an understanding. It might only last for a hundred and one years, but that should be long enough. Probably.

"Mušḫuššu," asked Mamma-Ha, "How would you say in Babylonian baby spectator who guards the stones?"

"Well, in Sumerian, kurum is a watcher or guardian, na is a stone, and tur is a small child, so perhaps turkurumna would capture the essence of it," mused the dragon. "On the other hand, the word for 'eyes' is igi, so igitur would be 'little eyes' and that seems more appropriate. You could call it 'Iggy' for short?"

"I like Igitur, offered Tippy. "I can do a naming ceremony, if you like?"

"Alright, Igitur it is," agreed Ha!, "That's settled." and she told the baby its new name.

"Let us therefore rejoice," intoned Tippy, "We name this infant Igitur Turkurumna. May it carry this name with pride and honour."

"Iggy guard stones," crooned the happy infant.

Meanwhile, Bar-De-Door and the orcs were ...

---

In case you think I was just making it up, there is a lexicon of Sumerian, the language spoken in ancient Babylon, at http://www.sumerian.org/sumerian.pdf. By a pleasant co-incidence, if you translate Tippy's Let us therefore rejoice into Latin, you get the well-known student song Gaudeamus igitur. Tippy was amusing himself by making a pun, even if no-one else understood it.

 

[rgoodbb]

Meanwhile, Bar-De-Door and the orcs were ...

......following the beholders and shadowing them out of their sector. They were too dangerous not to know where they were. By the time that was done, the orc commander Krush, led the ski-patrol to their keep of BloodFort up high in the mountains. There they considered their next move. Well Bar -De-Door did, Krush was wading into a side of Ram. It was tough and dry. What it really needed was a squirt of...

..."Lemon juice." stated Tasha. "Does anyone think that an odd eye beam-ray from Igitur?"

"I told you nature over nurture man." stated Albert. "If we bring this little critter up right, we might get some other different ray-beams."

Corporal Jones had little to offer here. Spectators were not available from requisitions. Not even from special requisitions. He thought about piping in with his limited knowledge of the history of branded lemon juice in the military, but lately, everyone was ignoring him. It was as if they did not want his advice or even, even as if they found him boring. Oh he wished he could be more interesting and useful to the party. He wished that he could instantly produce any item from his store's history. That was what he wished.

At that moment, one of Igitar's eyes flashed, and it was not the lemon eye.

Jones felt something change within him. He felt instantly useful and now had a special power. In his mind he put in a b107H requisition for arctic white snow uniforms. They appeared before him. He had become.....a provider......A Sergeant.

 

[BoldItalic]

Snagtooth was on watch in BloodFort Keep. He liked being on watch over the big gate because it was an easy watch. All he had to do, was to make sure no-one stole the big gate. No-one had ever stolen the big gate for the hundreds of years it had been there, and no-one would as long as he was on watch. No-one had ever opened it either. Everyone used the little gate at the side because opening the big gate made no sense. It wasn't there to open, it was there to look terrifying and forbid entry to anyone who wasn't supposed to be let in. It was there to not open. That was the whole point of it.

A movement caught Snagtooth's eye, down below on the snow-covered trail that ended at his gate. A very small wizard, about the size of a pixie, had emerged from between some piles of snow that, in the fading light looked a bit like snow-elves but obviously weren't because there weren't any snow-elves up here. The tiny wizard walked slowly up to the gate, five feet at a time, and raised a tiny knobbly staff.

Snagtooth laughed and shouted "GO AWAY!" but then a strange thought entered his mind. After all, why should the pixie wizard go away? Pixie wizards were specifically allowed to open the big gate, weren't they? He felt sure they were. He didn't notice that one of the snow-elves had been staring at him intently. He was too busy watching the tiny wizard.

The pixie wizard rapped on the gate with his staff and said something Snagtooth didn't understand. There was a loud KNOCKKKK sound and then a lot of clanking and squealing as massive bolts sprang open, chains dropped, counterweights counterweighted, and hinges protested. Slowly, very slowly, the big gate, the gate that was never meant to open, began to swing open and the pixie wizard, three snow-elves and a lobster walked through. One of the snow-elves clanked a bit but it was barely audible above the cacophony of sound that the gate itself was making. Another of the snow-elves carried a very shiny halberd and she was ... she was ... female. Snagtooth felt the stirrings of something best left unstirred. The third snow-elf wore sergeant's stripes on his arm, and if a sergeant wanted to walk through the gate escorting a bunch of other snow-elves, Snagtooth wasn't going to argue. Arguing with a sergeant was instant termination in the orc ranks. It had been drilled into him from a very early age. What is it, Private? Termination, Sergeant! Right, and don't you forget it, sunshine.

"So far, so good," said the snow-elf called Tippy. "Let's head through that archway. It looks like there are some steps up towards the battlements. It's nearly dusk, and the orcs will be stirring soon."

Meanwhile, Albert had quietly opened a grating leading to the castle sewers and he, Inannyunot and Ha! had slipped in un-noticed. It was dank and dark down there, so Inannyunot cast Light on an apple that Albert gave him, but kept one hand over it so that the light only lit up the floor enough to see where they were walking. He conjured a map of the sewers into existence and consulted it. "We need to go down there, turn left and up some steps," he said confidently.

As they went down there and turned left, the hairs on the back of Albert's neck started tingling. "We're being watched," he whispered. "Can't you feel it?"

Iggy crooned. Iggy could feel it too, but Iggy couldn't see it. "Gurgle?"

A pair of eyes blinked ...

 

[rgoodbb]

A pair of eyes blinked ...

Meanwhile up high in a cramped room above, Bar-De-Door knew something was afoot. There was definitely something underhand going on. It was within arms reach but he couldn't put his finger on it. He needed to keep his ear to the ground and get his head round this problem. It wasn't his only problem he'd had a belly-full of problems right up to his armpits. It was time to get something off his chest and face up to the fact that he was surrounded, knee-deep with enemies. He was sick to the back teeth of this place. The Orc leader was no ally, no brother-in-arms. He needed to get back. Do something different like maybe a naval campaign, something hair-raising. He had more evil in his big toe than these Orcs. He needed to go. He needed to leg it....

 

[BoldItalic]

Tippy, Tasha, ClaW and Jones wended their way together around seemingly-deserted battlements until they found themselves on a platform overlooking the parade ground where the orcs were mustering ready for duty as dusk fell. There were hundreds of them, all milling about, resentfully being pushed into some semblance of order by hobgoblin officers who clubbed any orcs that didn't move fast enough.

"I hope this works," worried Tippy, casting Tongues on himself. Then, using a Thaumaturgy cantrip, he amplified his voice so that all the orcs and hobgoblins would hear him down below. Attention! he called in a stern voice and was rewarded as most of the hobgoblins looked around and stiffened, while most of the orcs cringed and looked fearful. They knew the voice of command, and they didn't like it. It invariably spelt trouble.

There has been a change of mission. Orders from above, continued Tippy. Another unit will be taking over this fort and we will all be moving to Fort Pendangle on the western coast. We have two nights to pack up and be ready to move out. All officers, fall out your troops and report to the mess hall.

Tasha struggled not to laugh out loud. "You were great," she whispered. "I couldn't have said it better myself!"

"I still don't understand why they would fall for it," said Claw shaking his head. "Surely, they would know it was a hoax?"

"That's the beauty of it," giggled Tasha, "None of the officers is going to admit they were fooled, so they will all behave as if it's genuine. It's group-think. The orcs will jump at the chance of getting away from these dreadful mountains, so they aren't going to make trouble."

"But what happens when they realize there's no such place as Fort Pendangle?"

"Oh, but there is. It's in the far south-west. It's garrisoned by elite guard regiments. Of elves."

"You're sending them into a trap?"

"Yes."

"Alright, but what happens when the officers get to the mess hall and find there's no reason to be there?"

"There will be, if all goes to plan."

Even as Tippy was saying this, however, the plan was unravelling ...