04/01/2026: Snow Cones and Skeleton Devils

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.Snow Cones and Skeleton Devils

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 to the Cave of Lost Things — one hundred scrip per person, charged to their tab, naturally. Everyone's trackers roll upward. Again.

The question of Cornelius arises, as it always does. Krasnyy tells him plainly: he stays behind. Cornelius resists but against her persuasion,deflates visibly, shuffling back toward the dormitory with his shoulders dropped. Then, after a moment's consideration, he rejoins the group anyway. Krasnyy does not object further. Some battles simply are not worth fighting twice.

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The sled sets off across the frozen plain. A roll of the dice gives them seven hours of travel — seven hours of driven snow, the cut of cold wind, and the rhythmic labor of the hellhounds pulling them through the dark. Most of the journey passes without incident. The ice is featureless; the sky is the color of old iron. Two hours, however, have other plans.

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During the first hour, the lead hellhound barks once, stops the sled, and charges off into the blizzard. The sounds of a violent struggle carry back across the snow. Then the sound of an animal wimpering.

Everyone grabs for something to hold onto. Four of them — Murlack, Krasnyy, Lynx, and Tick — are thrown from the sled into a heap in the snow.

Out of the blizzard comes a yeti: polar bear-sized and in a very bad mood. Tall Glumbo, who knows his yeti lore, shares the critical piece of information immediately and at full volume: it is afraid of fire.

The party's response is, characteristically, not fire.

The yeti lets out a terrifying roar. Several characters become frightened, unable to willingly approach the creature or attack it. Newt's ice mephit companion, normally eager, refuses to leave the backpack. "Fighting it is a very bad idea," he seems to say.

Nequo approaches and takes a claw strike for nineteen damage, dropping to the ice, gravely wounded. The situation is deteriorating.

Newt offers the yeti a snow cone.The yeti inhales it in two bites. A second snow cone follows — the last of Newt's juice supply. The yeti licks it clean. Someone floats the idea of a third cone with a different topping. The idea is not pursued because no one can think what to flavor the ice with.

Krasnyy attempts to reason with it. The yeti bellows.

Freda addresses the yeti. The yeti stands there for a long moment, looking vaguely embarrassed — and then leaves.

The encounter is resolved entirely through snow cones and mild social awkwardness.

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As the sled passes the site of the earlier struggle, the party spots the lead hellhound — not dead, but dying. Tall Glumbo kneels beside him and uses Lay on Hands. The dog staggers upright and licks his face.

The dog's name is decided on the spot. Tall Glumbo names him. No one objects loudly enough to matter.

Dog Glumbo rejoins the team.

Several hours into the journey, the sled rolls up on a large wooden chest sitting alone in the middle of nowhere. It bears a sign: TREASURE. DO NOT OPEN.

Lynx attempts to pick the lock. The lock holds.

Tall Glumbo smites the chest. The chest ceases to exist. Whatever was inside — which may have included a potion and possibly a magical cloak — scatters across the snow in pieces too small to identify or retrieve.

From the dark comes a skeleton devil, incensed about his chest. He swings at Tall Glumbo and misses. Tall Glumbo attempts to strike the infernal creature in return and fails stupendously. The magical backfire extends a protection to the devil, making him more difficult to hit.

Rather than attempt the impossible, one of the party casts Command. One word: "Flee." The skeleton devil turns around and runs. As he vanishes into the blizzard, he shouts something threatening at Lynx over his shoulder — something specific enough to be a name, and a promise.

The blizzard swallows him. The sled moves on.

The remaining hours pass without incident. The long ride across the frozen plain counts as a long rest — hit points restored, spell slots replenished, exhaustion cleared. By the time the Cave of Lost Things comes into view ahead, the party is as ready as they are going to be.

Cornelius is with them. Copper is with them. And Dog Glumbo, fully healed and trotting alongside the sled, is with them too.

Somewhere inside the cave, something is waiting to be found — waiting to be returned to Proctor Azurath. The party had two scrolls. They were told to open the second one only upon arrival.

They have arrived.