Gania held onto the treasure and the ally she had found, realizing just how much work it will be to carry Mozerat. But she was certain it was worth it. Then she noticed Twessa and set towards the gnome, eyes narrow at the two men. "Is everything alright?" she called out and then smiled as she saw the dragon-worshipper relax and display her prize. "Well done!" she congratulated, rising the serpentine glaive and correcting Twessa "I did not win anything. It was earned."

She then nodded her head back towards the dervish on her back "Mozerat agreed to accompany me." the barbarian looked at the two unknown men pointedly as she explained "He made the choice a bit too late, so he'll need to recover for a while."

Istvan found himself standing on a sand dune. Gania was a few paces away, and Twessa was with two vaguely familiar men a bit further off. In the opposite direction were two more blue lights, much like the one he had just exited.

"Um," said Istvan. "Hey, guys. ...What's up?" He paused. "I am very wounded."

He looked around. "...Mm," he said. "Giant tarrasque city. Don't see that every day." Another pause. "So, um, what're we doing?" He swayed, suddenly feeling quite tired. "I am very wou-- did I say that already...?"

"I can offer you a healing potion, if you think it would help you. I suggest we handle that while moving out of the way of the lumbering monster."

Istvan sagged. "...I've got a healing potion. I just forgot... I guess I should use it..." Istvan looks around. "Unless... anyone else would like to heal me, mayhap...?"

Twessa half smiled at Gania's overly-whirled dervish, and then tiredly turned to Istvan. "Please just ask me when you need my help."

With a number of toes missing, Twessa lacked confidence to perform the dance of praise to Sagrae, so cautiously walked across the sand to Istvan, held out her hands, and quietly prayed for him. It worked! Relieved that she'd somehow won her way back into Sagrae's graces (did she like the shield?), Twessa's shoulders slumped, and she looked at the city on the great beast's back. Cities had food, and beds, and inns - luxuries that every gnome enjoyed.

"Um. I've still got a bit of gold left for an inn. Maybe we should try getting up onto the city and rest there?"

---

00:26, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 12 using 2d6+2.  Cast Cure Light Wounds on Istvan.

00:27, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 3 using 1d8.  Healing for Istvan.

Yay, I keep the spell! Have a heal, Istvan! Anyone else?

"Hey, I didn't want to pressure you. Maybe your healing magic was already tapped out for the day, for all I knew, if your task was anything as rough as mine..."

(Istvan's HP increases from 2 to... 5.)

"...Um, if you still feel like healing, I could use a bit more, still being more than halfway toward being dead... But, again, no pressure... Either way, rest sounds real good right now... but we don't know what dangers the city may hold, either... So I can go either way..."

As Twessa preformed her magic, Gania noticed her lacking digits. "What happened to you? Was it during the task" she proclaimed, coming closer to the gnome. "Will your dragon replace them?" she ask, her tone implying that Gania thought it would be right.

"As for the monstrous city." the barbarian glanced towards the moving colossus "Someone there should know more about this place." She adjusted her hold on Mozerat "Although who knows how we'll get up there."

Cavanaugh scratches his beard. "Magic can run out?"

He waves a hand, dismissing that item for now. "I had been assuming that the effect that brought you here was designed to bring us up there. Right effect, wrong vector. But if it truly doesn't care about us we could, and I say this as someone who has scaled nothing but bookshelf ladders in his life, climb its hide."

Uri is still kind of out of it, but the mention of healing magic quickly snaps him back in.  He bows to Twessa (stumbling a bit, since he's still woozy) and says My lady Twessa, if I may be so bold as you take advantage of your generosity, I too am not in the best shape, and could use some divine aid.

While Twessa decided how much healing she wanted to attempt, another one of the blue lights revealed the person it was bringing forth from the treasure chamber. Although this particular reunion was not nearly as happy as the others had been...

The first thing everyone noticed was the sound. An incessant buzz filled the air as the sound of hundreds of bug wings reached the adventurers' ears. The buzzing was mixed in with painful yowls, like injured cats. But where one might have expected to see a swarm of bugs or cats, a vastly more horrifying sight was present. A sight that Istvan regretfully recognized, from the painted wall carving he had seen less than two hours prior.

It was Atalanta. Although the druid was nigh unrecognizable. Her body was twisted and contorted, and partially feline. Here and there was a glint of gold as a scarabs crawled from one patch of fur to another. They were golden scarabs too, like the ones on the armor Atalanta had been trying to win. The druid's skin seemed to be almost alive as it shifted over her motionless body. Every so often a ball of fur would pop off of her and grow into a horrific cat-scarab hybrid before running off into the sands, beating its bug wings and yowling painfully.

It seemed the druid's shapeshifting magic was incompatible with the scarab-mail armor Atalanta had won for her prize. And Atalanta had paid the ultimate price...

What do you do?

---

For convenience, I added Istvan's description below of the image he had seen. I used this as a way to write out Atalanta from the story, since her player hasn't logged in in over a month now.

Istvan Vanoson:

Istvan studied the wall images-- it was easy to explain why the figure that seemed to be Atalanta drew his eyes to it-- someone had painted it... And the results were extremely unnerving. It looked like the druid had tried to turn into an animal-- something with paws, maybe? Maybe not... but something had gone very wrong-- the result was twisted, misshapen.

There were other animals all around her, four-legged things... Had she been trying to turn into one of them and it failed? Or were they forcing her to change, somehow, and it'd gone wrong? Or had they caused it to go wrong?

He wished he could tell more about what they were, but they weren't painted at all, weren't nearly as (gruesomely) detailed as Atalanta herself...

Atalanta the druid had been a dangerous woman, but one that Twessa had found intriguing. To meet such an end was horrible, but an end to them all seemed almost imminent. As the remains of Atalanta writhed after death, Twessa affirmed to herself that having lost some toes and a couple of fingers didn't seem quite such a bad result, but she couldn't truly convince herself.

If they were to rest in the city, the pleas of Istvan and this other human gained urgency...uld be quite imp, she clasped the hands of both men in her own, shuffled her little dance, and made urgent prayers to the Gracious One. It took a little while, allowing Twessa to delay her reply to Gania, not sure how to answer what she might have felt was a reasonable question. The restoration of the body was likely within Sagrae's power, but she was already asking so much.

"I don't know that Sagrae thinks my fingers and toes are important", the cleric admitted. "And its not my place to judge."

As divine power channeled through Twessa, restricted and uncomfortable as if the channel were blocked, Sagrae's reluctance to offer further favor beyond minor blessings to two men seemed decided...

---

CRANKING OUT SOME HEALING

22:52, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 9 using 2d6+1.  Cure Light Wounds on Uri.
22:53, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 2 using 1d8.  healing for uri.

Due to the 9, Twessa takes a second -1 to Cast Spell

22:53, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 10 using 2d6.  Cure Light Wounds for Istvan.
22:54, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 1 using 1d8.  healing for istvan.

22:54, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 10 using 2d6.  Cure Light Wounds for Istvan #3.
22:54, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 3 using 1d8.  healing #3 for istvan.

22:55, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 6 using 2d6.  cure light wounds for uri #2.
FAIL at last, oof

- Uri is healed for 2
- Istvan is healed for another 4 (Sagrae doesn't want to heal him as much as Twessa does, only a total of 7 on 3d8!)
- I'm at a -2 to Cast Spell until rest (also carrying -1 Cha from a prior backlash, -1 Con from Rite of Constitution)
- I failed the last spell, XP marked, DM's choice of result

"...Thank you, Twessa," Istvan said sincerely. "That does feel better, and now I think I can save my healing potion for some other emergency..."

Sierpinski looks between the walking city and the walking mass of scarab-things and decides on a course of action. "Look, I'm just going to see how climbable this thing is. If it's not, well, then we can worry about this poor creature." He begins trotting toward the tarrasque, still trying to believe that this has become his best option.

As Twessa struggled to channel her divine energy, she felt the scar on her face get hotter and hotter until she couldn't take it anymore. The gnome had to stop her casting, but not before one last surge of tainted healing magic surged from her scar, down her arm, and toward Uri. Twessa could feel some of her spell know-how going with it.

Meanwhile, the final light in the sands dissipated. The familiar forms of Harling and his cat, Quickclaw, stood in its place. The ranger held a fancy ornate headdress in his hands.

As Sierpinski passed by Harlin and looked toward the walking city with closer scrutiny, he could see that potions of the city did indeed continue down along its side and legs. There was not a lot of construction there, but there was some. It seemed likely there would be a way to board the beast so long as they timed the footsteps correctly.

What do you do?

---

Twessa
You lose your spell and take an additional -1 to casting until you rest. Don't forget your XP!

Uri
You can opt to heal an additional 1d8 damage from Twess'as final spell, but if you do then you also take the Scarred Debility (-1 to Cha rolls) until you have time to rest or use a potion.

Sierpinski
There is almost certainly a way to get aboard the city from the ground. The method may be a bit bumpy though...

Thanks, Uri says as he feels some of the pain flow out of his body.  Then he sees Sierpinski run past him and he turns to follow.  He grabs the gnome's hand to pull her along and says Come on, we might as well try.

I'll pass on that offer, DM.  If I sacrifice Cha I lose the one thing I've got going for me.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:54, Fri 10 May 2019.

Sierpinksi could be seen moving from side to side and ducking up and down, apparently trying to make sure he had a sense of the size of the approaching creature, and therefore it's speed and position. It was so large that it tended to defy normal estimation. The apparently artificial nature of this are didn't help either.

One more footfall from the creature and Sierpinski nodded, like he'd figured something out. The foot lifted again and the wizard shouted, "Now! Run!" and bolted across the sand toward a point that appeared to have no special significance, but which must be where he predicted an access point would become available.

Gania watched Atalanta's fate with dismay. She came closer, her face grim but she stopped before acting. The druid was clearly dead already. With a small nod, she turned to the others, waiting for Twessa to finish. Harlin appearance brought a small and short smile to the barbarian's face but it faded as she glanced towards the cat turning into scarabs. "We're all here." she said to the ones she knew as the two men rushed to the city "Let's go with them for now."

Joining the run as much as she could with the dervish clinging to her, Gania tried to gauge the approach for herself, not trusting Sierpinski completely. "You'll need to grab onto it and climb yourself." she instructed Mozerat, knowing even her strength couldn't pull their combined weight through such a climb.

17:57, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 4 using 2d6+1.  Discern Realities - moving city.
If I asked, it would be "What is about to happen?"

Harlin felt rather ridiculous in the headdress, but he knew it could help him. He surveyed where he found himself with dismay. Two explorers he remembered from the entryway, one of whom was bolting toward . . . something . . . and calling for the others to join him. From his own group, Atalanta horribly slain. Twessa maimed. Istvan injured, even after Twessa's deity intervened. He felt lucky to have only lost his armor and half his arrows.

For lack of any greater insight into the situation, Harlin ran after the wizard. "Let's go!"

With a new goal in mind, the group of adventurers dashed across the sands. They left the bleak remains of Atalanta behind and focused on the brighter future that approached before them. Hopefully brighter anyway.

While Gania carried her passenger, the barbarian did her best to study the walking city they were approaching. The slight distraction proved to be too much, however, and Gania quickly lost her balance. Herself and Mozerat went tumbling down the side of a sand dune. Several of Gania's items came loose in the fall and the dervish yelled wildly. "Ahhhh! Ah haha ah ha!" He almost seemed to enjoy the tumble and kept a big grin on his face as Gania collected her things. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we'll get left behind if you insist on dune-sliding right now."

As the group closed the distance to the gigantic Tarrasque's feet, it became clear that there was a small lookout station located on its ankle. There were several people in it waving their arms at the adventurers and pointing to a sort of open-sided basket that was being lowered on braided leather ropes. It bore the city's emblem and looked big enough to hold a horse. There were a couple of rope ladders being lowered too, but the basket appeared big enough to hold everyone.

"Welcome travelers!"

"Greetings!"

"Welcome aboard!"

Various similar greetings could be heard as the city got nearer. Apparently the inhabitants of this unique city were excited at the prospect of new visitors.

The tarrasque's foot landed near the party, sending a shockwave through the sand that nearly knocked everyone off their feet. Sand bit at everyone's face as it flew out from the impact. But as the dust cleared, the basket was still there waiting for everyone, right near the tarrasques's courtyard-sized foot.

What do you do?

---

Gania
"What is about to happen?"
Gania doesn't realize it, but she is about to leave her "Token of her land, The runic bracelet of the Keeper," in the desert. It fell off of her, but she won't realize it for at least another hour.

Also, you eventually notice that one of your guilty pleasures is quite celebrated in this city. What is it? (Think, Herculean Appetite: Mortal pleasures)

Uri
When you saw the city's emblem on the basket they lowered, it reminded you of the emblem of a famous hero you know of. What is the hero's name?

Sierpinski
You know that the tarrasque the city is built upon is much larger than any tarrasque you have ever heard of, even in legends. What is Sierpinski's theory as to why it is so large?

Harlin
The people who are greeting you are humanoid, but not necessarily humans. What race is most common in this city?

Twessa
You eventually spot some religious symbols among the city's inhabitants. What is the main deity they worship?

Istvan
As you approached, someone shouted the greeting, "Welcome to ___." What is the city name they gave you?

Sierpinski picked himself and ran for the basket before the foot lifted again. He clambered aboard and then helped those of his new and old companions who had yet to join him. Once everyone was situated, he waved to the tenders to be pulled up.

---

There is obviously a place of power nearby from which the creature was drawing energy. The locus could be in the city, on the ground in this weird volume, or might even have become incorporated on or inside the creature's body.

"Welcome to Trevisi!"

Uri was surprised to see that the coat ofarms on the basket was centered around a golden triangle pointing downward, the symbol of Trevo the Tiny.  Once he heard the name of the town it started to make sense...

"At least you didn't claim humor as one of your talents." Gania grumbled as she picked herself, most of her possesions, and the dervish, up. Watching her steps she continued after the others, unaware of her loss. Once they reached the marvelous and terrifying place, she deposited Mozerat into the basket before getting in herself.

Then the smells hit her. The sweetness of perfumes mixed with heavy oils. She looked at the greeters closest to them. The skin and hair shone from the care given to them. "This might not be so bad after all!" she said as a grin spread across her "It was too long since I had a proper massage!"

Twessa kept up with her fellow travellers the best she could, barely avoiding the fall of the tarrasque's foot. Dangerous, but...well, the basket was right there. Handy!

As the gnome got to her feet, she recognised medallions worn around the necks of their greeters bearing the shining mark of Gantinara, The Smiling Stars - a goddess not unaligned to gracious Sagrae, but with tenets for her followers that were far more aligned to the lives of humanoids than of fierce and powerful dragons.

"Its safe!", Twessa called out with relief as she awkwardly tried to scale the basket, and accepted a helping hand from one of the Smiling Stars' followers.

"I should have expected you", she joked with the creature.

---

Hiya, I got carried away, so feel free to discard or change any of this that you like:


GANTINARA, THE SMILING STARS

Alignment: Good
Domain: Civilization
Portfolio: Community, Hope, Care, Smiles
Symbol: The constellation Gantinara (a smile of stars)
Worshippers: Adventurers, travelling merchants, prisoners, soldiers, the wounded, anyone in inescapable distress

When one being travels alone they are in danger, but when beings travel together they can find community and respite in each other. This intangible feeling is the gift of Gantinara, the spirit of communal travel, of kindness to strangers, of resilience gained through unity.

Long ago, Gantinara was once the daughter of a great chief of a nomadic tribe; beautiful, kind, and generous. The story of her ascent to godhood is different every time, but always involves becoming isolated during sandstorm, seeking refuge, and meeting a dehydrated and dying stranger within. Gantinara sought to heal the stranger, stayed by his side and told him stories, and used the last of her water in doing so. The stranger recovered from his wounds in time, and they left the cave, but Gantinara sadly died within sight of her tribe's encampment.

Before the stranger's eyes, after Gantinara had taken her dying breath, he saw a spirit emerge from her mortal shell, smile at him with beatific purity, and ascend into the stars to henceforth watch over all those who were lost, and in desperate need of community. Moved by this experience, the stranger crawled towards the camp and shared his story. Hhe became the first priest of Gantinara, and the rest is history.

Some agnostic scholars who study myths of Gantinara believe her to be little more than a variant to Ajanna, The Mother of All. They don't smile often at all.

Harlin climbed in. But why were there so many orcs among the greeters?