Games Logs

Being in the bathroom of the Hag’s Arms has become, against all reasonable expectation, being part of a command center. Thunk is the first t

The Amber Temple settles into quiet. The flame skull that had been harassing Rakthe withdraws, vanishing into the darkness, and the oppressive silence of the temple reasserts itself. Vilnius is dead. His mummified remains lie near the entrance to the chamber — skin tight and leathery over the bones beneath, pocked and discolored from whatever illness had been eating him long before his final moments. He crumbles wherever he is touched, fragments of him dropping to the marble

The next day, the group decides they need to do a little more shopping before they leave for the Caves of Lost Things. Avoiding the Infernal

As the truck rolls slowly up to the Hag’s Arms, a landmark in the land of Malbolge, the massive, mummified limb that gives the tavern its na

A functionary — one of a nameless army of administrative devils that the City of Tantlin seems to have — summons the group and delivers their assignment with the brisk inefficiency. The party is to travel to the Cave of Lost Things and retrieve an item. Their transport: a dog sled, paid for by the group and added to their debt, will be drawn by hellhounds. Six will be tethered to their transport, and one — the lead — will be running free as a guide for the sled dogs and guard

The truck crests a ridge and the sixth layer of Hell opens before them, broken and uneven. Malbolge is nothing like the levels that came

With the arrival in Stygia, the coach crashes into the frozen ground with bone-jarring force. Metal warps and splinters fly. The vehicle careens sideways, gouging a trench through the snow before lurching to a violent stop. The doors burst open, hurling passengers and luggage into the howling arctic waste.

The battle in the cemetery goes on. Viktor is finally atop the mausoleum that Jayce has just leapt down from, and frustrated to have missed him. The wizard searches, squinting at the rooftop in the gloom, for anything to throw at the fleeing Jayce. He only comes up with a large acorn. Winding up, Viktor lets it fly into the darkness. The sizeable nut catches Jayce on the back of the head, startling but not injuring him. As he cranes his head around to see where the nut cam

The party barely has time to catch their breath before the attack comes. The two massive shapes emerge from the swirling snow—abominable ye

Reklaw volunteers for first watch as his companions settle into makeshift beds—some sprawled across the truck’s hood, others curled in its b

The halls of Strixhaven echo with confusion and chaos as the hexmates find themselves scattered across campus, each dealing with their own b

A gathering storm threatens as the eight find their way to the City of the Dead at sunset. The sky churns gray and purple above the ancient

In frustration, Torgan stumps back down the cellar stairs. He has received no support from his new employers, who have gone to bed. With res

The coach lurches forward and the journey begins. Soon after, the purple tiefling leans to one side against the window and closes his eyes.

The deafening bellow of the great roc tears through the mountain air. The massive creature banks hard, its shadow darkening the bridge as it

Moving on from the piles of items they have found in the Cave of Lost Things, most of them tuck away their treasures. All have valuables, ex

Later, when they compare recollections about the gathering on that first day—before the funeral but after the meeting with the half-vampire

Horse-Reyna’s hooves clatter on the marble pathway as she canters into Silverquill Quad. The elegant colonnade rises before her, its pristin

Komzin, Rakthe, and Bayleaf approach the brazier, and climb within. Komzin selects a yellow stone and casts it into the flickering green flames at the center. The three experience the now-familiar flash of light, the sharp sulfurous smell, and the nauseating pull of magical teleportation.

The eight adventures mill around the coach depot, beneath the faded wooden sign, “Wallard & Son Transit and Cargo.” They have arrived in sin