In the Light of Black Stars (Strange Aeons)

Game Master Thackery Baxter J Thorington

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It's crazy Lovecraftian fun! On Golarion!


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After several hours of searching the library, the dreamers find nothing of particular note beyond a few psychological texts. They do not find The Chain of Nights or any other references to the Tatterman or themselves.


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda sighs as the fruitless search comes to an end. "Time not wasted....but still frustrating anyway." He then motions to the door on the opposite side of the door where the dreamers first entered. "Let us continue our search now. Time is running out, I fear."


Inactive

"Where to now? It's starting to get late, isn't it?" Amber asks, surprised at having to stifle a yawn considering their current surroundings.


It's been about half a day Some of you are quite hurt. You still want to press on?


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

I am perfectly happy in returning to our safe room and resting but I do think we are under a time limit of some kind.


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

"Well?' the old man says, disgust evident in his voice "It isn't here. She must have done something elsewhere - or someone took the book. Either way, I think we should rest for an hour or two, dress wounds, and then continue."
vote for treat deadly wounds before the 24 hour period closes


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

"Very well, if you don't think we can keep going now..." Hearda replies irritably. "The longer we tarry..." He continues to mutter to himself as he motions for the Old Man to lay down upon the sofa and takes out his healing kit...

This won't hurt at all...:

Heal T.O.O. (Treat Deadly Wounds), Inspire: 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 ⇒ (10) + 7 + (2) = 19
Failed, two uses expended from Healers Kit. 8/10.


Inactive

"You're right that we can't waste too much time but we can't keep risking going out like this in this state," Amber agrees. "It won't do anyone any good if we get ourselves killed because we were too hasty!"


With an unnerving creak, the Hearda pushes upon the second door from the room. A dark and empty hall stretches east, void of light, save that streaming from the the open doorway. Shattered lanterns line the floor, the remains crunch beneath the dreamers' boots as they enter. Several doors line the hall. Two to each side, and a final door stands closed at the end.


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

Old Man's wounds prove worse than they first appeared. The grizzled face contorts under the white beard at the slightest touch.
"I've some Troll Styptic, but only a single dose. The damned stuff takes months to make. I'd rather save it for a genuine emergency. We should take as many books as we can - and those pictures - and go back, rest up."

Spoiler:

The old man has Supertitious. There's a 50% chance he'll need to roll a save against healing spells.


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda scans the hallway intently allowing his darkvision to note every detail. Once satisfied the hallway holds no lurking threats he motions his fellow dreamers back into the office.

"So the maze is revealed. It is unwise to press onward here and risk being caught off guard. I say we gather these books and drawings and return to the chapel, confer with Winter. Also Zandalus...he may reveal more when confronted with work by his own hand." He urges his fellow dreamers.


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

"So we are in agreement then?" the old one looks to Feliks and Amber.


HP 21/21 l AC 16, T 14, FF 13 l CMD 14 l F +2, R +10, W +9 (+10 vs. fear, +4/+5 sans towering ego) l Init +12 | low-light vision; Perception +8 | Sanity 41/41, Threshold 5, Edge 20
Skills:
Acrobatics +10, Bluff +11, Diplomacy +11, Climb +2, Escape Artist +9, Linguistics (B) +6, Perception +8, Sleight of Hand (B) +9, Stealth +14
Spells:
L1: 4/4
Male halfling enigma mesmerist 3
The Oldest One wrote:
"So we are in agreement then?" the old one looks to Feliks and Amber.

Feliks nodded.


Inactive

"Yes, for god's sake yes! We've seen enough - too much - to go any further right now," Amber responds with an emphatic nod.


The dreamers slowly slink back to the holdout. Each step is agony. The shadows stretch and twist in the torchlight. Threats seem to lurk behind every corner. Sometimes, there's scratching in the walls. Other times, moaning. Every step stresses their nerves.

Finally, the dreamers arrive at the holdout.


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

The old man sinks into a chair with a groan, then moans in realisation. "Let's talk to Zandalus in the morning, please."


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda slowly settles into another chair, rubbing his face and eyes tiredly. "Yes we need to see him...in the morning. This place has exacted a heavy toll on us. We need rest...as little as it may be."


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

mechanics:

Spell Recollection for Planar Orientation
Recollection: Planar Orientation: 1d100 ⇒ 52
bluff if needed for cunning caster: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18
Also casting Detect Pychic Significance on the drawings.
bluff if needed for cunning caster: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
Also using Detect Thoughts on Zandalus
bluff if needed for cunning caster: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32
Would like to cast these while 'asleep' and murmuring in his sleep etc in order to get the effect of as dreams nightmares about
* where we are (if not material plane) via planar orientation
* symbol of whose plane we are on (if not material plane) via planar orientation
* significance of the drawings
* what is going on in Z's mind.
Hopefully no-one is around to make perceptions.

Are we getting long term medical treatment?


Inactive

"Y-yes...sleep for now, then we can talk in the morning," Amber agrees as she looks for a quiet corner to pile up in for the 'night'.


The Oldest One wrote:
** spoiler omitted **

To recover sanity, you need either a week of uninterrupted rest ( It's been 3 days and you've been very girl, interrupted), psychiatric therapy (the doctors are all dead or un!dead), or magic (via restoration, or lesser restoration). So. ya. As for health: there are people here who cn heal your wounds, and stuff.


I'm uber tired and had a long day. I'll update game tomorrow


As the dreamers return to the chapel, Wynter meets them at the door. "What have you learned? You're injured... what happened?"


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda waves the others past the door into the chapel area then immediately motions for Winter to a private corner where they would not be overheard. "We have learned much, and yet know less than before. We made it to Eliege Losandro's office hoping to discover a way to escape...we found her...and also the Tatteredman." He gives a brief description of the monstrosity they fought. We discovered some interesting texts as well, plus some sketches created by...Ulver Zandalus." He shudders briefly as the memories of the empty city flood into his mind. "We must speak with him...and also...we unearthed what may be the keystone to this: The Chain of Nights. Have you ever heard of that...tome?"


Wynter's eyes grow grim as Hearda recounts his tale. "Doctor Losandro was the head of this asylum. She was a superb alienist. you say you found her, and the Tatterdman? What.. what is the Tatterdman? And, what happened to her? Where is she?"

She pauses, all hope leaving her. "No.. It's clear. She will be missed. I have never heard of The Chain of Nights, nor do I wish to, judging by that name. Perhaps you can speak with the one you brought.. he might know more. May.. may I see these sketches?"

alienist is an archaic word for psychiatrist


Inactive

I'm assuming we brought the sketches back with us, yes?

"Yes, we've got them right here," Amber responds as they had the six sketches over to Wynter. "It looks like if you put them all together then you've got a view of an entire city," she points out. "We found them arranged that way, too. Does it look like anything you've ever seen before?"


"Yes... these..." Wynter holds the pictures in her hands, splaying them wide in her hands. She looks back and gasps in horror.. the pictures fluttering to the ground. "These... I.. saw... this place. How? How was this in my dreams!?"


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda glances at his fellow dreamers, his eyes wide with shock. How...how did she KNOW of this city? Who placed her there...the one from the fog, our tormentor...the Tatterdman? He gives the dreamers a warning look, We must be cautious here as to what we reveal.

"We...you have seen this place in your dreams? This city? When did you first see this place?"

I do not believe in coincidence...she will say the time we first arrived in this accursed asylum...This I am certain.


Wynter looks up in horror. A week ago. I last saw this city a week ago.


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

The old man, still sitting in his chair, tries to trace back the days since he's awoken in this accursed yellow-tinged hell. "Was that before the Asylum... changed?" he asks, still sitting.


She nods. ”when we came here, to this chapel, and we ceased dreaming. I fear if we dream, that city will return.”e


Inactive

"But you don't know anything about the city?" Amber asks anxiously. "No idea of where it might be or if...if it's even a real place?"


"I only know that I never wish to see that place again. Its memory haunts me, even now. I thought it was just a dream. But, to know that others ahve seen it, too... " She shudders. "It cannot just be a dream, can it?"


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda is silent for a moment as the memories threaten to flood unbidden into his mind.

NO...NOW is not the time...!

His voice is soft not without a measure of compassion. "No, Wynter...it is no dream. More I dare not say...but I stake my life...OUR lives...on this. We need to see Zandalus....he must know more of this!"


Your companion hasn't left his cot all morning.


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

"Then it is time to wake him." the old man levers himself to his feet "Despite that the poor fool probably needs to recover after the experience he had."


Inactive

"Yes, we should see if he knows anything," Amber agrees.


Zandalus sleeps fitfully in a corner. The sheets of his cot are sodden with sweat, and his yellowed clothes cling to his wasted frame. He tosses and turns in his sleep, mumbling to himself under his breath in a barely audible voice.

His eyes jerk open at the lightest touch, his wide orbs stare unseeing for a moment before resting on the dreamers.


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda moves forward, the look on his face intense, ready to thrust the sketches into the insane man's hands. While the orcish part insists upon threats to produce results, the human side realizes the man's psyche hung by a thread...and any violence could snap it, losing any hope of answers.

"Greetings Zandalus. We have need of you now. We need to learn what you know of, " he holds out the sketches in front of the man's eyes, "this place."

Please...tell us.:

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 - 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 - 1 = 4


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

The old man stared intently at the madman as the mystic interrogated him.

mechanics:

as per post #818


HP 21/21 l AC 16, T 14, FF 13 l CMD 14 l F +2, R +10, W +9 (+10 vs. fear, +4/+5 sans towering ego) l Init +12 | low-light vision; Perception +8 | Sanity 41/41, Threshold 5, Edge 20
Skills:
Acrobatics +10, Bluff +11, Diplomacy +11, Climb +2, Escape Artist +9, Linguistics (B) +6, Perception +8, Sleight of Hand (B) +9, Stealth +14
Spells:
L1: 4/4
Male halfling enigma mesmerist 3

Feliks came over too.

"Easy now, we only want to have a nice talk," he said gently.

Rolls:

Dip: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20


Sorry i missed your post, Oldest. gonna split it up until everyone sleeps, though

Zandalus scurries away from Hearda, perhaps sensing the primal rage that broils in his blood beneath his veneer of civility. "No!! Take them away! TAKE THEM AWAY! The Black stars!! The Black Stars!!! No!!!" He weeps, sobbing in a corner, beating at his head with his fists in misery. His wails upset the children and they start their own crying. Several of the survivors cast baleful glances towards the dreamers as they quickly comfort the children. But, Zandalus brightens as Feliks steps up, smiling at the halfling like a child beaming at a puppy. "Hi!" He gingerly takes the drawings into his hands. He pets them reverently. "The Dreaming Town." He smiles, a droopy glazed look enters his eyes. "So pretty! Empty. Full."

As the others talk to the poor patient, the Oldest appears to busy himself with his flasks, seemingly barely paying the fool any mind. Instead, he casts his mind outward, focusing it with razor precision, on the fractured psyche of the wretch laying before them. The patient's mind is too splintered to be of any use: his thoughts are erratic and racing, darting from here to there and never in a straight line or a continuous thought. Thoughts from other voices, yet all the same, scream in his mind. It's almost impossible for the Oldest One to follow. But one thing is painfully clear. Zandalus loves this city more than life itself, and its very presence terrifies him without reason.

"Zandalus SEES! Zandalus knows!" He pets the sketches lovingly, tears of joy mingling with fear down his cheeks. "Zandalus made these!!"


HP 21/21 l AC 16, T 14, FF 13 l CMD 14 l F +2, R +10, W +9 (+10 vs. fear, +4/+5 sans towering ego) l Init +12 | low-light vision; Perception +8 | Sanity 41/41, Threshold 5, Edge 20
Skills:
Acrobatics +10, Bluff +11, Diplomacy +11, Climb +2, Escape Artist +9, Linguistics (B) +6, Perception +8, Sleight of Hand (B) +9, Stealth +14
Spells:
L1: 4/4
Male halfling enigma mesmerist 3

"Could you tell us about them?" Feliks asked, gently.


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda studies the clearly insane man closely, trying to gain some insight as to what he knew of that place. "Have you seen...others in the Dreaming Town?" He queries trying to keep his voice calm.


Zandalus shakes his head, afraid to look at the drawings. He turns his head this way and that, never looking the sketches fully, but always keeping them in his peripheral all the same, like a moth drawn to the flame. "The Dreaming Town. Pretty. So Pretty. No one there. No one there. Once while walking on the stair, I met a man who was not there. He was not there again today. I wish I wish he'd go away!" He clutches the sketches in shaking hands. He stares each of the dreamers in the eyes. "I danced." He grabs Hearda's hand, clutching it into a ball. "You danced, too! You danced, too! You danced, too!"

He giggles madly, and releases Hearda's hand. Then, he curls himself up in his blankets, to drift back to sleep. As the wretched man begins to snore, the Oldest One gets a final fleeting thought: an image of a man desperately running and searching through an endless yellow fog, trying to find something, but the Oldest One can't tell what it is. The wretch doesn't really know either.


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Once the insane man has dropped off into slumber Hearda gathers the other dreamers to him, keeping his voice lowered. "I fear we will get little more from him, though I do believe he was indeed there. We are still far from finding a way to escape this place, though I firmly believe finding this tome...this The Chain of Nights. We need to rest up now, and continue our search."


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

"Indeed. I fancy myself something of a scholar. There is little doubt
Zandalus loves that city more than life itself, and its very presence terrifies him without reason. Perhaps the Chain of Night holds the answer."
The old man winces as he moves "Should anyone dream of fog, or the city, or the colour yellow then please report it tomorrow. Dreams seem to factor strongly in our predicament."


Inactive

Amber nods quietly, having had little else to offer in their questioning or their attempts to put the poor man's fractured mind at ease. "Sleep, yes. Then we continue what we've started," she whispers.
______

Sorry, between forum issues and other stuff I let this game get away from me a bit. Still here, though!


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Sleep comes easily to the dreamers. Their weary eyes and fatigued souls yearn for that gentle adventure that is slumber. Their wooden pallets and bent cots seem as soft and welcoming as feather beds and down comforters. In their sleep, they feel safe and protected.

Only the Oldest One's sleep is fitful and pleasant. He tosses and turns on his cot, blankets and sheets twisting and coiling about his body like snakes. Everywhere, there is fog: yellow, miasmic, choking. Within that yellow mist, things without form, and forms without reason, coil and writhe just beyond eyesight. He sees the sketches spread out before him, hanging on invisible hooks in a great circle. Their charcoal shading fill his vision. They spin about him in a whirlwind. Faster and faster they spin, their panorama vista blurring together into a seamless zoetrope image, and the Oldest One stands in the center of this city once more. He gazes at the flicker images, and sees a figure in the distance, blurry and indistinct. The zoetrope continues, and with each flicker of scene, the figure moves forward, and becomes clearer. Soon, the Oldest One can make out arms and legs, and splays of cloth, like a dress sent to twirling a dancer. Indeed, the figure appears to dance, a wild freeform of frenetic energy. The figure contorts and twists, pirouettes, and leaps through the air from scene to flickering scene. Hazy at first, but drawing sharper with each step. He sees the dress for what it is... frays of long cloth that move and twisted about themselves of their own accord; the wrapped and bandaged fanged maw, too-long limbs, clawed hands. He recognizes the dancer and screams.

He remembers the words of the witch from the journal, they shatter through the silence of the macabre dance: dreams cannot hurt you. This is the Dreaming Town and the dancer dwells within. They first saw their place, and faced this terrifying figure, in their dreams. The view shifts, and suddenly, he's pulled a way from the zoetrope, and he floats in a great void. The Dreaming Town spins above him a cloud of yellow fog. He sees thousands of lights, brilliant and blue floating in the vast void, like tiny stars, each sending up small wisps of yellow mist into the ether, to join the roiling cloud above his head. Some, however, cling too tightly to the wisps, and pull the yellow fog to them instead of sending it away. They draw the mist into them, and pull the town lower with it.

He looks around, frantic to see more, to learn more. And he sees them image of a man. A figure in the distance. Watching him. His form is shrouded in shadow, but two urine-yellow lights blaze with such hatred at eye level, that the Oldest One knows they must stare into his very soul. This figure has seen him. It knows him. And, with sudden conviction, the Oldest One knows he has made a grave mistake. He has voyaged where mortals were not meant to tread. The yellow eyes draw him nearer. Nearer. NEARER. NEARER. NEARER. Butterflies surround him, iridescent wings flashing prismatic hues, obscuring his vision, and blocking his view of the yellow-eyed figure. The Oldest One knows they're meant to hide him from the Yellow-Eyed Shadow. They spin and spin about him, the wind of from their wings scatter the yellow mists from the little lights and cut the anchors from others. The Dreaming Town is pushed away, its cloud broken, the zoetrope ended. The sketches rip into a thousand tatters. Still the Yellow-Eyed Shadow watches beyond the tornado of butterflies. The wings spin, faster, faster, faster, and then the sound of smashing ceramic fills the ether and the butterflies fly out in a thousand direction in a great burst.

With a scream the Oldest One starts from his bed, drenched in sweat.

what the Oldest One learned:

1) The Dreaming Town isn't in this plane, but another one.
2) Golarion and the Dreaming Town are normally separate, but they're being pulled towards each other by ... things.
3) The Dreaming Town is, however, connected to Golarion in some way.
4) There is a lord of this place (he couldn't get more on that one)
5) The Tatterman is connected to the Dreaming Town in some way (but you already knew that)
6) You cannot figure out the sign of the Lord.


HP 17/17 | AC 15 (T12 FF 13) | CMD 11 | San 40/43 Th 4 Edg 21 | F +1 R +3 W +2 | Per +5 | Init +2 | PP 2/4 Spells 1/6

"By all that is holy." the old one whimpers to those of his companions awakened by his scream "I need a drink. Such a nightmare - if it was a nightmare. It's... it's too real. Not fading like a true dream did." he stumbled over to one of the Dresnan icons, and bows as he touches it and mumbles a prayer.
Still clasping the icon he recounts his nightmare in hushed tones.
"Desna saved me, I think. I'm no dream-interpreter, but it takes no great skill to interpret this one. That place - in the sketches. That... Dreaming Town. It's real. On another plane. One separate to Golarion." He shudders "But something draws them together. Connects them. The lord of that place is too much like that Tatterman we fought. Like, but like as a Lion is to a Housecat. He sees us. He sees."
The old man collapses back in a chair "Gods. A single night of that dream has me afraid to sleep. If Zandalus sees it each night it is no wonder that he has been driven mad."


HP: 27/27 l AC: 15, T 12, FF 13 l CMD 15 (16 vs. disarm, 16 vs. steal) l Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +5 l Init +2 | L1: 3/4 | Inspire 7/8 l Sanity Score: 43, Threshold: +3, Damage: 3, Edge: 23 l Senses: Perception +8, Darkvision 60'
Skills:
Acro +2, Appraise +9 (BG), Bluff +6, Disguise +4 (+9 as human), Heal +8, Intimidate +8, *Kn.+10, Sense Motive +8, SofH +6, Spellcraft +8, Stealth +8, UMD +5
Male half-orc Investigator (Psychic Detective) 3 | Madness: Night Terrors | Active Conditions:

Hearda is instantly awoken from his own dream, consisting of swirling images of beautiful ladies in long flowing gowns as they caper before him, and leaps to his feet. Once the old man has recounted the terrible details of his 'dream' to his fellow dreamers he sits back in contemplation.

Why us? Why such interest in us... His civilized mind questions.

BAh! Such foolery! It matters not...only that it is what it is! The savage part of him replies in irritation.

"Yes it seems The Tender of Dreams has taken an undue interest in ours...yes indeed." He pauses a moment before continuing, "Your tale fills me with dread Old Man, yet also with hope. We know a little more of what confronts us and now can take action....once we have escaped this place." Rising to his feet he stretches and yawns tiredly, "We must continue our search. The Chain of Nights. That is the key!"

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