The party gathers in the tent of the chieftain of Clan Blighteye. A small fire crackles within, its deep purple flames illuminating the tent in a soft glow, unusual for such a large, fueled fire in an enclosed space.
Our adventurers take their seats on slabs of wood arrayed around the fire. The air around them becomes clearer, the atmosphere charged with a natural energy, blanketing the party in a calming aura.
Finally, as if they had been standing in the room the entire time, three gnolls step out from the shadows, all of their bodies enshrouded entirely by robes except for their muzzles poking out.
The central gnoll throws back their hood. Bandages cover most of their old, withered body, what fur left a soft white, but their eyes show kindness and wisdom.
They speak of the party, and how they were brought in, allowed to sit at their fires and share in their brotherhood. However, they talk of the creature, one from our world, that descended upon their camp. The events recently with the Lord of Worms are beyond anything Clan Blighteye had experienced in many lifetimes, but the events of that morning was far byond even that.
Pausing in thought for just a moment, the chieftain continues, speaking of an opportunity. They will assist the party in communing with nature, to be guided to a place where they may set down roots of their own: a place where they might call home, at least for a time, and the means to appease the land. They do not hold us at fault, but the party seems to come hand in hand with danger.
They continue on, changing the subject to the elf woman, Paige, to the west. She has a fascination wwith the stranger creatures of the realm, and many have fallen to her traps and reemerge… different.
The gnolls pack supplies for the party, preparing packs laden with supplies. Much of this is hardy pemmican, which saved them more often then even their weapons in the blighted lands to the west. Taki communes with their shovel once again, the signs confusing, the main takeaway being that they are on the right path.
Checking on the patient, an identify spell is cast on their slumbering form. It goes deep, deeper than they were expecting, trying to touch on the magics that are keeping them asleep and finding something far beyond what it can handle. It backlashes, as if trying to understand a singular drop of water that has been thrown into the ocean. Nothing makes sense, the only sense that of heavy conjuration magic mixed with necromancy. This identification is in a similar vein to when trying to Identify one of the green tendrils.
Wysteria enters the tent, sensing the magic pulsing from within. They corss to where the patient lies, magic still crackling like electricity through the air and sending her fur standing on edge for just a moment. The experienced magic user shrugs it off, their willpower outweighing the minor fluctuations in the weave. Their magic is unlike the others, however: their own is born of years and years of experience and care.
They kneel down, their head bowing to plant a gentle kiss on their forehead. In that moment they are connected, and they sense a connection not with one but many, the eyes of hundreds of beings turning to them. In that moment, they sense where the patient is, experiencing the same sensation they felt waking up in the crypt of the Warden. While we were able to escape, perhaps because of the strength of our numbers, this being has been kept from their physical form by force of will by the Warden.
The green tendril also assists in keeping the patient comatose, but it's influence and the Warden's are separate. The tendril drags to the west, to the location of Paige.
Meanwhile, Steve walks alone through the woods, fighting their thoughts, their memories. Hallucinations from their past intensify, the vivid visions overwhelming them. They keep walking, trying to put distance between themself and the images, but they remain, always on the edge of their vision, the orc knowing them far too clearly to not recognize them from the slightest of glances.
A voice begins to speak behind them, joining the hallucinations at the edge of his senses. The Warden offers a way out, a way to stop the visions, in return for his assistance in breaking the barrier protecting the party. Steve shakes it off, pushing back towards camp as the voices and visions fade.
Shortly after he regoups with the rest back at camp, they are joined at the fire they crowd around by the chieftain, the gnoll smiling at each member as they take their seat among them. He speaks.
“I sense you have come to a decision. Thank you for all you have done and all that you will do.”
The shaman nearby raises the fire, blessing the party with swiftness and guidance, endowing them with a sense of the path ahead and the energy to pursue it without tiring. The chieftain also gifts a small wooden bird to Wysteria. [1]
The party is seen off by the clan, laden with food and supplies, the members making sure they know the adventurers will be missed.
…
The blessing allows the party to continue on in comfort, the magic allowing quick progress. However, as the sun sets exhaustion sets in, hitting suddenly and harder than it normally would, the spell's effects wearing off. The party stops to make camp. As the moon climbs higher in the sky, they find themselves turning in, making food, organizing guard, all the usual rituals of an adventuring party as they turn in for the night.
All are asleep by the time the moon reaches its zenith, even the guards. Dreams come to each like normal.
All realize at the same time they are dreaming, each entering into something akin to lucid dreaming, each finding themself at the foot of a small pond, barely even an inch of water. The patient sits upon a rock at its center, reading a scroll. Looking up, they note the party's presence as odd, asking if the “it” had sent us, if it's still okay. The party collectively reassure them, saying they were not sent by the Warden, rather that the patient's body had manifested in front of them only a few days past.
The patient stands at the mention of their physical form, startled, a force cage forming around him, desperate words tumbling out from his lips.
“HOW ARE YOU HERE? THIS IS MY REWARD?!”
The party reassures him, calming him. After a while he drops the force cage. He introduces himself as Ublesk, describing how he had been captured long ago. Ublesk had been forced into slavery, eventually, as a reward for their actions, being given the option between walking free, and the plane where they currently resided. They walked the world for a while, eventually returning and choosing their current residence within the Limited Infinity.
Questioning what he had been rewarded for, Ublesk's tendril flashes, their mind going blank, leading to a spiral of further bursts of energy along its length. Ublesk is wracked by these bursts, before falling unconscious as one final, much larger concentrated transfer of energy hits him, resetting his mind from the party's meddlesome questions.
The plane begins to collapse, but enough time is given for some to take advantage of the ability to create whatever they might want within. [2]
Waking, several go to where Ublesk rests. They are in anguish, but is soon calmed, returning to their usual tranquil rest.
Sadook, the undead rat, appears from somewhere on Taki's person. They wish they could help, that they could remember. They say that they are glad that they were put here.
The undead rat jumps down off Taki's shoulder, onto Redden's head, and finally onto the slumbering body of Ublesk, merging with their form. The now conjoined form of Ublesk and Sadook stands, eyes growing softly green, grinning.
They speak: “I'm gonna do what no one who has ever controlled me has ever been able to accomplish. I’m going to save someone. And I’m gong to be helpful.”
[1] Wooden Bird Idol of Message, able to be sent back with a 25 word message to Clan Blighteye, will travel anywhere but extra-planar to carry this message back to its owner.
[2] +1 to cooking skills, permanent, from cooking with rare ingredients in the dreamscape, learning things most would never get the chance to.