Part 1:Bad Dreams

Villans

...we're not sure on this one.

DM's Note: The only clues so far are psionics and a big ghostlike image of a lobstery thing. Wait, weren't the psi-people on the side of the Rakshasa before? Maybe their goals are a little more complex than simple mercenary work. Also, the Clan Boromar connection raises its head for what seems to be the final time...

Creepy Moments

• Qasq seeing his reflection's throat slit by someone wearing black gloves, and his reflected self fall over dead.
• No one being able to see Qasq's reflection for the rest of the day, in any material, and then things being back to normal the next day.
• Codee dreaming she took off the circlet and went on a murderous rampage... A dream which even the demon in the circlet found disturbing, and tried to chat with her about.

Not that Codee was having any of that. She tried talking to the group instead, but they didn't seem to be much help

• Settling into an inn for the night. Stew was eaten, games with the locals played and booze bought. Tick and Ruby sit down by the fire to do some gem-cutting. Then the wind starts to blow, and the ceiling drip, and everyone wakes up to find that there is no roof, never has been any roof, the floor is rotting and about to collapse, and they are sleeping on mouldering piles of hay.
• The sounds of inceassant clicking and clattering as a room fills with skeletons.
• A maitre'd introducing everyone, very personally, into a fancy ballroom that should be a decrepit general store
• Schwabus being his usual crotchety self, waiting at a dinner table for the rest of the group, the wound that had killed him only minutes ago gaping and oozing slightly in his chest.

Famous Last Words

• "Git!" - Schwabus, trying to turn the skeletons that promptly swarmed over him.
• "Rarrr!" - the dinosaur (now an undead monstrosity of unusual size)
• "They would have got me eventually... Boromar never really lets one of their own... " - Vincent, trying to justify his possession and betrayal.

In-Character

Codee stiffled a groan as she pulled her arm through the breastplate, donning her 'sleep' set of armor. Shredded shoulder muscles from where the Carver's teeth had raked her protested the movement almost as much as the bandaging seemed to resent being jammed under the metal armor. But after what had happened, she was taking no luxury in sleeping unprotected. Her eyes drifted to where the two Warforged sat sleeplessly by the fire, Tick tirelessly sanding down a gem, Ruby just... staring. No. No chances.

The leader of the small band lay back, turned her eyes to a sky where the canopy of trees all but blocked the sight of stars from her, and willed herself to sleep despite everything.

They'd been pampered. That was all. What mercenary band usually has a House Jorasco representative among their ranks? She closed her eyes, allowing herself to think of nothing but practical logistics until the mundanity of it forced worse thoughts from her head.

A breeze blew through the trees, crisp with a Karnnathi chill to it, and Tick methodically placed another log on the fire.

In Codee's mind, the wind was blowing through chinks in rotted-out walls again.

"Not so bad for beginner. You play Thrones with us any time," the local was saying jovially as he pocketed Qasxiel's money. Codee could hear the sounds of the inn common room below - clink of ale mugs and the crackle of a fire - but around her the inn was already decrepit and abandoned. The smell of rotting hay was as strong as when she woke up that night, replacing the cold ground she had fallen asleep on. Some part of her already knew it was a dream. The rest didn't seem to care.

Qasq's clockwork foot creaked a floorboard alarmingly as the Artificer entered their room. Why didn't he notice the inn seemed about to crumble beneath them? "We have to get out of here. Now. Everyone grab your packs, we're going for the horses."

Protests. Codee did a headcount obliviously. Brannek. Vincent. Tick. Qasq. Schwabus. Ruby should be hiding behind the counter. Or no... that came later. "Now!" The warrior urged, brushing mouldering straw off herself before pulling on gauntlets.

An incessant patter like winter hail on a slate roof started, but from below. Something wrenched within Codee. Too late.
"Out! Straight to the horses. Whatever happens, don't stop."

Out of the room, onto the landing, down the stairs. This time the inn couldn't even hold their weight, and boards dropped the instant she started stepping on them. The company was running just ahead of the crumbling floor, forced right into the horde she knew was waiting below.

Skeletons, an impossible number of them continually streaming into the common room of the dead inn. This time their pitted bones were wearing snatches of Karnnathi armor and the crest of Fort Bones, and the scimitars horribly large and jagged. The bodyguard opened her mouth to give warning of what was coming, but couldn't find her voice.

"Git!" A swath of skeletons were thrown backwards by the powerful word, but none crumbled at Schwabus' attempt to turn the undead creatures. The company moved into action, charging into the space temprorarily cleared. It was happening again. This time she'd have to do something to change it.

Ruby rolled a ball of fire through the mass of skeletons as Tick waded unflinchingly onward. Brannek's sword splintered bone as the Thranian tried to use brute force to counter the fleshless foes. Qasq seemed to be fiddling with his crossbow, likely infusing it with some magic so that his bolts would injure the skeletal horde. Codee was frozen where she stood, every muscle straining to run in and protect her men. But perhaps it would be okay. Everyone was doing what they should. Except...

Vincent just stood there, watching. As he noticed Codee looking, the rogue raised a brow. "You better go do something, remember? Grumpy won't last long out there." Codee looked helplessly back out over the seething common room. The skeletons had regained their feet and were piling up over the halfling like a cresting wave. Their scimitars sliced at Schwabus, and again the bodyguard felt the pain of each blow, even though she didn't recall shielding the cleric.

As Schwabus fell under a clattering pile of murderous bones, an inhuman scream ripped through the air. The halfling's Carver mount burst through the wall, it's rage or grief swelling within it. Making it grow larger before their eyes. The healthy gleaming scales began to slough away, peeling off to reveal diseased and rotting flesh beneath. The masterless beast roared, and charged forward again.

Vincent laughed. "You're getting it all wrong."

"What?"

The sound of crunching bones as the rapidly decaying Carver stepped on the still swarming skeletons faded out, and motion ground almost to a halt.

The rogue ran a black-gloved hand over his chin. "It's not what happened. Dinosaurs don't turn into undead monsters every time their rider dies. It's ridiculous. And you claim to have been to the Talenta Plains." He made a disparaging sound, and gestures out at the enraged reptilian. "Is this supposed to be some subconscious punishment for letting the half-pint die? Really Codee, I thought you were more practical than that."