Games Logs

Sound travels strangely in the fissure between Malbolge and Maladomini — every clash of steel, every furious roar, bounces off stone until it’s impossible to tell where the battle actually is. Kiki, Vali, and Thunk are hurrying back from their errand to retrieve the truck, now shrunk down and cradled against Kiki’s paw. The distant echoes of combat put new urgency in their steps. Sound, being sound, travels in all directions. Someone else trapped in this narrow purgatory hea

Orbart is difficult to miss: a minotaur, seven feet and eight inches of dense muscle, sharpened horn and quiet reserve, wearing a chainmail shirt with a slight hood and boots that have given way at the toe. He carries an amulet bearing a strange symbol, which he uses to channel his magic, and he has his own moral code, arrived at independent of his god. He has been in Vallaki for two months, renting a room from a widow who would not have him if extreme old age had not dimmed

Torgen crouches in the brush beside the wolf he has killed. Two more circle nearby, noses working the air. They haven’t spotted him yet, but

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