Games Logs

The truck’s engine idles with a low, greasy rumble as the group clocks the malephant. Seven eyes. All of them pointed at the vehicle. Seve

The dining room is warm with the illusion of plenty. The long table groans beneath an impossible spread — roasted meats glistening with imag

Chase Stone. Erebos, Bleak-Hearted  [Digital image] . Wizards of the Coast, 2020.  The party greets the morning with something close to relief. Eight hours have passed without the ground swallowing them, without ambush, without catastrophe. Borark is mended — or mended enough — and that, in Malbolge, counts as a victory worth celebrating. They take a moment to acknowledge it before the dull orange sky reminds them where they are. Kiki fires up the truck. The engine turns over

“So you have decided to go back to 1487. “Sigurd sets down his wrench and leans against the Witherbloom sink he has been repairing. “I appre

As the group grows quieter, whatever has been pressing against the wall grows silent.

The mewling from behind the door is unsettling—something between a whimper and a keen, echoing off the stone walls of the hall. Zilk sucks t

The fireball leaves a ringing silence in its wake. The corridor reeks of scorched stone and burnt hair. Komzin is pressed against the balust

In his creaky voice, the lich Exethanter continues into the shocked silence of the temple. “I will arrange for you to receiveThe Ritual of P

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