They Met in a Tavern 31: Regarding A Further Brief Survey of the Spiders of the Badlands

We take a break from the World Cup to adventure:

• Chris: Thorn, dwarf Wizard
• Dan: Kiara, elf Ras Godai
• Roger: Drom, dwarf Desert Rider
• Seana: Zanegar, 1/2 orc Sea Wolf
• Callista: Erol, elf Priest
• Dave: Darkmist, elf Thief
• Andrea: Gabor, goblin Priest

The party awakens from a restful night around the odd metallic, humming obelisk.

Did it keep you awake, too?

Breakfast, and time to get on the road. Drom led the way. Around a few bends, he heard a barking dog. Some cautious slinking about, as PCs are wont to do. A ring of standing stones surrounding a cold fire is found, as well as a cliffside opening to a possible shrine. Zet looked at the runes, determining that they symbolized safe travel. They are cautiously greeted by a one-eyed old woman in tattered robes and her massive dog of undetermined genealogy. She introduced herself as Sesuna, a hermit meditating at the old shrine. The dog was Dawit. "He helps provide for me. We don't need much."

The party asked what or who she might have seen? Serpentfolk to hide from. Other parties, possibly seeking the cities or other treasures within the badlands. No. No odd spiders.

Sesuna showed the party a statue to the shrine's patron, Zulona, a lost god of travel and good water. Likely established long ago when caravans and other wayfarers were more common. Kiara offered some coin for a blessing. Sesuna shook her head, and pointed to her empty socket. "I need an 'eye' to see for you." Some puzzlement, and a gem was procured from one of the loot piles. Sesuna placed it in the socket, and the gem vanished. But now the party won't roll "lost" rolls for three days. Anything we can thank you with? If you come back this way, bring me the names of any lost gods you may find. They need to be named and remembered.

Off they went.

Hurried footsteps approached from behind, revealing Igra, one of the two kobold guides. They had been ambushed by the spellcasting spiders, and Rogs' luck had run out. Igra had returned to the party. Might be a better way to riches than mining, anyway. Besides, he'd always wanted to be a poet...

"Behind Me dips Eternity

Before Me Immortality

Myself the Term between

Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,

Dissolving into Dawn away,

Before the West begin..." - kobold poetry