Games Logs

In a vault-ceilinged room, the shambling mound shuffles toward the Hexmates beneath Witherbloom Tower, smelling of wet soil and rot. Massive, its vines and branches are held together with some sort of mucus, and they appear just at the edge of decay, suspended by magic rather than nature. Fungi grow in clusters along the upper ridge of what might be called its head and shoulders, some of them faintly luminescent, throwing pale light across the room in uneven patches. Gaping m

The lecture hall smells of old parchment and the particular anxiety of students who have not slept enough. Morning light comes through the high windows at an angle that does nothing for anyone. The Hexmates are arranged, instead of their usual configuration, they are seated with their project partners. Only Quentillius and Alister sit with distance between them. Quentillius leans across the aisle toward Alister, his voice low and pointed, “Hey, Alister, have you finished you

The party finds themselves, displaced and uncomfortable, in this alternate timeline — a version of Strixhaven where things are subtly, somet

The afternoon settles over Strixhaven with a particular heaviness. The day has already asked too much of everyone. Tomorrow’s assignments lo

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

The campus feels borrowed. The architecture is right — the Hex Tower doors swing open for them as they always have — but something in the

The office is close and warm. The soup on the long table has stopped steaming. Murgaxor sits behind it, watching the Hexmates with flat, unr