Never before had Halona known defeat like the kind met out to her the day she lost everything. Not an exaggeration, Halona -- the spiritual leader of the Tarokee people -- lost everything like brush in a fire, though brush, she would argue, would've suffered far less. Her family, a husband and young daughter, was slaughtered by the Herikian war party -- bloody and merciless. Her followers were taken as slaves, no more useful, and only considered slightly more sentient, to the Herikians than the raw gold and silver plundered from her temple walls and foundations. Even Halona's body was left broken and she stuck behind her cracked, paralyzed bones like a quail in a cage.
"I- I cannot-" She shuddered and swallowed air to keep her words from curdling into painful sobs. She failed.
She sobbed for she witnessed the death of any pleasant future she might've been on track to create: a future full of pleasant evenings spent enjoying cool air on hot nights, a future of savoring the smell and taste of hearty steak after a long hunt, a future that faded like pages -- the pages of her life -- in the heat and light of an apathetic sun. She lay broken on her back, that same sun beating down on her where the Herikians had left her knowing the temperatures of the day -- if left with no shade -- would burn her skin and kill her like a fish left on a rock.
How could she come back from this? She pleaded to nobody, but despite this, swore she'd heard a deep, angry, maybe sad voice deep in the folds of her ears. It whispered, you cannot.
There was nothing to do but bleed out, no rhyme or reason to what happened next, and; therefore, no hope. Only the sudden curtain of shade, cast by a squirrel high up in the tree behind her, broke her despair and brought her back from those depths.
The squirrel scuttled so violently among the branches that a sprig of pine nettle snapped and fell right on Halona's chest, then another. Before the squirrel was gone, taking the shade with it, Halona was under a veritable bush of greenery, a bush that cast, though barely, a gentle cover from the sun. Then, an idea -- another, wiser whisper -- reached her. The birds, she thought.
She whistled, a trick she'd learned from her grandmother in her youth to draw in eagles, the heaviest of the birds local to the region. At first, nothing happened save for her doubt ringing in her ear. This won't work. If it did, it's too late anyway.
But, she whistled on.
After some more time, some more failure and doubt, many eagles came to her call! Each one rested on the branches above her until there were too many, too many with which to share the finite real estate of strong branches. The eagles, not ones to share, quickly resorted to territorial brawls.
They flapped their wings and poked their claws at one another. They jumped and hurled from one branch to the next in a respectful but aggressive display that said 'get away from me!'
Their brawl was a brilliant display of nature and the balance it must keep even among members of the same kin. It was a joy to watch, Halona decided as a life long lover of animals -- but above all, and to Halona's great, unparalleled appreciation, it was a ruckus that knocked big branches with wide fans of leaves down upon her.
The story of what happened next is for another day, but today Halona dug deep within herself and found amongst her despair and doubt a power more profound than the sun and villains that would have killed her.
She found the means to recover under the shade of fallen branches and a path forward that would, ultimately, lead her to the salvation of her stolen people. She found a future, though one that needed healing, and most importantly she'd found hope.
In this world, Halona would go out gently, with no broken bones, as the matriarch of a strong, resilient tribe and telling stories of a long and prosperous life. In the next, Haber would approach her, and she would become an Oneironaut.
The following table outlines the Oneironaut features available in this Martial Archetype for the Fighter class and is accompanied by a description of each feature.
Heroes of Hope
“you want to know why Oneironauts are fighters…”
At level 3, you develop the ability to wield hope like a weapon. Hope, your unyielding will to protect the innocent and defy the wicked, can be conjured and spent to brilliant effect. This hope is represented by your Hope Dice, each of which is a d6. You have an amount of hope dice equal to your proficiency bonus. After a long rest, you regain any spent hope dice and lose any surplus hope dice until you have an amount equal to your proficiency bonus.
Starting at 3rd level, you literally glow with hope. A gentle blue aura surrounds you and. As a reaction, when a creature within 30 ft. of you is targeted by an attack, you can expend one Hope Die to shield an ally or empower an attack against a foe. Roll the Hope Die and add or subtract the result to the target's AC, potentially turning a deadly blow into a glancing one or vice versa. You can do this after determining if the attack is a hit or miss.
When you reach certain levels in this class, the size of your Hope dice increases: at 7th level (d8), 10th level (d10), and 18th level (d12).
“whatever it takes”
Starting at 3rd level, after you make a skill check, ability saving throw, or attack roll, you may spend any amount of hope dice. If the sum of the roll on the dice and the roll of the hope die is exactly 20, it becomes a critical success. Otherwise, you may add the hope die to the final roll including modifiers. You can do this twice before needing a long rest.
At 7th level, you may do this thrice before a long rest. At 18th level you may do this thrice and you may; instead, spend a hope dice and choose a number equal to half or less than the hope die’s maximum to add to the roll.
“As long as I'm still standing, there's hope.”
At 7th level you've overcome much doubt and learned how to find hope when there seems to be none. You become proficient in survival and any subsequent opportunity to become proficient would grant you expertise. If you are already proficient in survival, you gain expertise.
When you are out of hope dice, you may – as a bonus action – take damage equal to one of your hit dice maximum and gain one hope dice. If damage taken in this way would reduce your hit points to zero, it instead reduces your hit points to 1 and you cannot do this again until after a long rest.
At 15th level, you gain two hope dice when you opt to take a hit dice worth of damage.
Whatever it Takes
“They don't know what we're made of.”
Starting at 10th level, you become a survivor, a hero who finds a way no matter what. When you are making a skill check or ability save, you can do so as if it were a survival check instead. You can do this twice before needing a long rest.
At 18th level, you can do this thrice between long rests.
When all is lost
“There is more power in one hopeful warrior than in 1,000 greedy kings.”
At 15th level you may, as a bonus action, use a hope dice and add it to a death save of a creature you can see within 10 ft. including yourself. You can do this once between long rests. If you have no hope dice and roll a natural 20 on your death save, you rise and regain health equal to your survival.
At 18th level you can do this twice. If the sum brings a death save to 20, it is considered a critical success.
“...It's because they never give up the fight”
At 18th level you learn from every failure and turn every obstacle into opportunity, hope. Whenever you fail a skill check or saving throw with a roll of 6 or less on the dice, you gain a hope dice.
Once before needing a long rest, you may turn one hope dice into a d20.
As long as you have 1 or more unspent hope dice, you have a +1 bonus to your AC and Survival.