Whispers in the Dust – Session 4 – 5: Scene 4

Session Date: December 30th & 31st, 2025

(Purple text is Mythic rolls/questions, Dark red is D&D 5E rolls)

Scene 4: Hunting for the Missing Husband

—-

Abby and I step outside to find evidence of the husband’s disappearance and what direction to look into.

d10 roll vs Chaos Factor: 5 vs 3 – Expected Scene

(Fate – “Is there evidence of the husband’s disappearance outside?” – Very Likely – Yes)

(Perception Check – DC 8 – 13+2 – Success)

Muddy footsteps leading from the back door follow out into the woods. They look to a single set of simple show prints, no sign of foul play or creature prints. They head north into the tree line.

“Well, looks like there’s our trail,” Abby states.

(Abby – Survival Check – DC 10 (Adv.) – 6+4 – Success)

“I should be able to keep an eye on these. You coming?” Abby asks as she turns towards me, adjusting the sword on her side. I nod and follow behind the centaur, turning to tell the halfling we are heading out after her husband.

We move into the woods and follow the tracks for about an hour.

“So, what brings you to the middle of nowhere?” Abby snorts, her hooves clopping along various sized rock debris and firm dirt. “Bit far out to see an eladrin. Y’know, separate plane of existence and all that.”

“Yeah, not quite down the road,” I snicker, “Looking for answers, same as most. What about you? A druid in the Eldeen Reaches makes me assume you’re part of the Wardens of the Wood?”

I adjust my hat as I look at Abby in front of me, her tail swishing behind her to flick a few flies gathering on her back. The flies float back into me and I swat them with my hand idly as they buzz away.

“Nah. Well, not yet, anyways. I’m in training to be. The Wardens are a big part of my tribe and I aspire to join them one day. In the early stages of getting there, but still got a ways to go.” Abby turns to slightly smile over her shoulder as she says this, before returning her eyes to the trail, watching and mapping every change in the prints in her mind.

(Fate – “Is there any change in the prints?” – Ex. No)

(“Any animals/creatures/people nearby?” – No)

We travel another hour, it’s about 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

“A cleric of Dol Arrah,” Abby lazily says as she trots and hops over a fallen tree. “Don’t mean to judge but I thought elves didn’t follow the Sovereign Host. What made you follow her?”

I vault over the same fallen tree. “Learned about her one day in a visit to the material plane. I can’t quite explain it. She just…spoke to me, if that makes sense. Though I can’t say I’m quite fond of the Host’s institution so I practice privately.”

Abby hums a sound of understanding, nods and lets the silence sit as she continues her focus on the trail.

(Fate – creepy forest, cliff, “do the tracks go up the cliff?” – No, “do the tracks lead to anything yet?” – Yes)

As we move further into the woods, the trees start to feel like they are bending around us with crooked limbs and large roots peeking out of the soil. The land becomes rockier as we near a sizable cliff that stands in front of us, jagged and misshapen. Rock debris litters the ground.

Random Event – New NPC – strong, strange, hairy, beautiful

(“Is it a werewolf?” – Ex Yes.)

A large werewolf, with a strong burly frame and a slick, surprisingly clean brown coat, stands in front of us as we turn a corner around a large boulder. Neither of us expect it to be there.

(Trineth – Stealth – DC 7 – 12)

(Abby – Stealth – DC 7 – 1, Critical Failure)

I react by ducking quickly behind the large boulder on our left, but Abby’s horse build prevents her from ducking with me. She tries to hop to the side but her hooves loudly clack against rock debris near her feet, creating a loud noise as she stumbles slightly.

The werewolf raises its head and looks directly at Abby. Abby notices the werewolf’s attention and decides to rise tall as I stay hidden and my eyes on her. She raises her hands in front of her as she talks in a louder voice: “Hey. It’s okay. I know you’re in turmoil. Let us help you. I’m a druid, I can help.”

(Abby – Persuasion Check – DC 13 – 11)

The werewolf growls at Abby, but doesn’t become immediately aggressive. It more so looks to be evaluating its options hesitantly, but keeps its strong eyes focused on Abby.

It stays in place, moving with a nervous sway. I slowly move beyond the rock and through the brush to the left of the werewolf.

As I near it in range of casting a spell, I take a look at Abby and then at the werewolf. It looks like it’s going to either attack or bolt at any second. So I raise my hands, rise up from the brush and declare “Sleep!” as a purple cloudy magic zips forward at the werewolf, surrounding its head in a cloud of mist and shimmer.

Sleep – 5d8 – 13 vs 30 – Fail

(“Will the werewolf flee?” – Ex. Yes)

The werewolf turns its attention to me as I rise out of the brush. When it gets hit by the mist, it huffs and sneezes as its claws at the purple mist surrounding it. But it doesn’t seem to be affected in the slightest.

Still frazzled and shaken, the werewolf takes a quick look at us as a moment of panic dashes across its expression. It then bolts off to the north, rushing through the trees and brush on all fours.

“Dammit!” Abby grunts as she gallops to where the werewolf was standing.

“Sorry! I shouldn’t have done that” I say as I hurriedly run out of the brush next to Abby.

“No, no. It was a fine idea! Grab on!” Abby replies as she reaches out her hand towards me.

I grasp her hand and she rips the breath out of me as she pulls me up onto her back. I scramble my way onto her back with my hands grasping at her slick fur. As I fully saddle myself and grasp at the back of her leather armor, she starts to sprint forward after the werewolf.

(Abby – Survival Check – DC 10 – 13+4 – 17)

(“Are the shoe prints gone?” – Yes)

Abby takes a quick glance at the prints on the ground, seeing the shoe prints have disappeared in favor of wolf prints. This is almost assuredly the husband.

—

(I’ll be skipping the actual dice rolls cause this chase took forever.)

The werewolf bolts through the trees, dodging each of them in a primal manner as it tears through brush and debris. Abby dips and swerves more gracefully with her horse build as she follows after it.

Suddenly, another cliff side appears, not high but hidden by brush. The werewolf tears through the brush only to yelp as it tumbles off the short cliff and into a patch of rocks and dirt. Abby and I swerve to the right to find an easier path down the rocks and keep on the werewolf. The werewolf shakes itself off and continues to sprint.

Abby raises her staff in front of her and mutters something that I can’t hear before her body is enveloped with a magical wind that seems to make her surge even faster forward.

The werewolf almost runs out of sight but we both continue to keep our eyes on it. We rush over river and through a grassy field as we pass by a few creatures who are startled and refuse to join the chase.

Eventually the werewolf takes a hard right around a large tree, and we take a hard right before it to try to catch it on the other side. We do as the werewolf, looking behind itself, doesn’t see us come up as Abby slams her front body against the werewolf. It dazes the werewolf as it stumbles and then Abby rears up with her front hooves and slams them directly into the werewolf’s chest. I almost am thrown off her back as I eventually stumble myself onto the ground.

The werewolf’s wind is knocked clean out of it as its falls prone onto its back, yelping with wolf whimper and gasping for air in the muddy dirt.

I draw my mace, hovering it in front of the werewolf as Abby unsheathes and hovers her scimitar in front of it too.

The werewolf looks up, eyes dazed and full of fear, as Abby clears her throat of fatigue and states firmly: “Calm down! We don’t want to hurt you. We want to help. You want to go back home to your wife, don’t you?”

(“Is this the wood elf husband?” – Yes)

The werewolf’s face softens slightly as Abby says the word wife. It stays prone, huffing in deep, ragged breaths as it looks at us.

“We can help,” I mirror, “I can heal you. You need to rest.”

The werewolf freezes for a moment. Eyes darting between the two of us standing over it. And then slowly nods. Abby and I breathe a sigh of relief and fatigue as we straighten up and put away our weapons, eventually helping the werewolf to its feet.

As dusk comes, we lead the werewolf over to a small cave sunk into the earth under an uprooted tree.

Abby drops her bag and pulls from it some rations that she hands to me and places in front of the werewolf. The wolf leans down to sniff it and then rips through the packaging with ease as it swallows the food quickly through its fanged maw.

She then snaps her fingers over a pile of small wood slivers and a fire lights from it.

I go over to the werewolf and tend its cuts and bruises with healing balm and a small amount of healing magic.

The moon starts to rise as Abby and I settle under some blankets I had from my pack. Threadbare but enough to keep the forest’s dewy cold at bay. The werewolf curls in front of the fire and heaves a heavy breath as it eventually sinks into rest. Abby and I discuss taking turns watching, but realize not many things will be bothering a large werewolf. So, we both drift off to sleep instead, snoring alongside the werewolf’s loud, raspy rhythm.