Tales

Like Popsicle Sticks

Posted on October 31, 2018

Every year I create a Halloween adventure for my party to go through, sort of a mini-Demiplane of Dread. This tale goes back to three or four years ago, while we were all playing 3.5.

The party had just tripped over a hole in the plot and fallen into the Demiplane of Halloween, which consisted of a small, haunted castle. Glowing eyes in the bushes, animated suits of armor, and wailing ghosts abounded in the fog-shrouded night. The first encounter was in a graveyard where zombies were supposed to rise from their graves and attack the party. The party was middling-high level by then, so this was more of a mood-setting encounter than anything else, but I figured they'd enjoy some zombie-slaying fun before we got to the real challenge.

I set the stage. "The ground ripples like water as bony hands and skulls rip themselves free from the ground. The dead are rising against you. You get one round to act before you're surrounded by zombies."

"How does Wild Shape work?" asked the Druid.

"You can shape-shift into any animal between huge and diminutive size, and plants at your level."

"Any animal?"

"Yep."

"Where are the zombies?"

"They're halfway out of their graves."

"I change into an elephant and roll on them."

I had a sudden image of a whole field of popsicle sticks stuck in the ground, all snapped in half. I put back the miniatures I'd just gotten out and we moved on to the next encounter.

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