RJD20

It’s Saturday night. The players of my Yatar group have gathered around the table, prepared to face the wilds of Zaza Isle: Poisonous plants, cruel creatures, and an insane grung tribe. However, there’s a new face at the table, my friend, Anthony, and he won’t be portraying a normal player character. We’ve planned something special. As everyone settles (for the second time), I recap last session’s events, reminding them of their unpleasant airship crash, dead crewmates, and grung enemies. The party ended the last session in their makeshift camp, constructed between enormous, steady trees and smoldering airship wreckage. As we begin, their characters converse about the next course of action: They need to assault the grung village and recover what remains of their crew. The plan starts to take shape, but then, from the thicket surrounding them, they are attacked by grung! Venomous, wooden arrows fly, red-skinned spear wielding tree-frogfolk charge in, and a burly grung riding a bulbous,…

Townsfolk who wander near Westport’s wishing well have been experiencing strange occurrences: Feverish dreams, rampant sleepwalking, and more. A wizard of Westport suspects the worst, and calls out for adventurers to delve into the wishing well to discover the source of this peculiarity.

New adventure today, folks. It's based on last week's article all about aboleths.
It involves a crazy halfling wizard, scaling a deep well, and fighting an immature and vengeful aboleth. 
Here's the link to the .pdf of Down the Wishing Well, if you'd like to read/print it.
Enjoy!
Down the Wishing WellTownsfolk who wander near Westport’s wishing well have been experiencing strange occurrences: Feverish dreams, rampant sleepwalking, and more. A wizard of Westport suspects the worst, and calls out for adventurers to delve into the wishing well to discover the source of this peculiarity.
NPCsTalon Windrite: An eccentric halfling wizardTraechnaa-vu: A relatively young but blind aboleth. She…

Listen. Follow. Attack. Kill. The voice continued in the barbarian’s head, drowning out all other thoughts. Her legs kept moving despite her best attempts to cease all movement; her head remained steady and forward facing even though she tried to lower it; her greataxe stayed firmly held in her hand though she tried to drop it. Listen. Follow. Attack. Kill. The voice bellowed again, shattering another piece of the barbarian’s sanity. She felt herself fading. The final front, her mind, and consciousness waned with every word. The beast of the deep was taking her, taking all of her, knowing with her body and abandoned mind, it could easily tear her party apart. Her pace quickened as if anticipating the proximity of the slimy creature. Listen. Follow. Attack. Kill. The barbarian’s eyes went white and her body completely stiffened. Nothing real was left inside, no mind, no heart, no soul. ‘Twas gone. Dead, as her party soon would be... at her puppet hands.
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Yep. You read th…