Games Logs

The librarian — cheerful, oblivious, and armed with an enormous key — locks the doors to the restricted section of the Biblioplex without a

The cellar of the Ship’s Prow smells of brimstone and mildew. The boarded door is still holding — barely — and from behind it, the voice of

The party faces a choice: pay one scrip for a bunk in the dormitory, or sleep outside in the freezing Stygian air. Most of them pay. Those who don't spend the night on the ice, with the exception of Lynx, suffer for it. Morning finds them exhausted. Some nights in Hell are like that. At dawn, one of the sled's hellhounds pads up to Krasnyy with a leather pouch hanging beneath its chin. Inside: a letter from Proctor Azurath. He has taken the liberty of arranging transport 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

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

High above the blazing Wall of Fire that burns above the Tsolenka Pass, Ratrick smolders, wisps of smoke curling from his singed fur. The ac

The battle ends. Reyna crouches halfway up the spiral staircase leading to the dormitory rooms while Rubina sits just above her, shaking her