09/25/2026: O Makers of Plans

The duergar shrine is dim and smells of cold candle wax and old stone. Youngaxor's handiwork still stands at its center: a dwarven statue with its face crudely recarved into his father's, and at its feet, a prayer for a sign.

The Hexmates intend to give him one. They have several ideas about how, and most of them are bad. 

The worst involves someone dressing up as Oldgaxor and visiting him in person, like Hamlet's father. This is voted down, loudly. "He knew his dad for like a week," Debbie points out. "But he's obsessed," KFC objects.

Alistair, sharing both a body and an opinion with Titania, will not budge on one point: "I can't leave Titania's son alone with that thing. Should we just try and kill him?,” Alister puts forward.

“If we can do this without killing anyone, that’s better!” argues Debbie.

Alister does  not look convinced.

The compromise is a letter: a reply to the parchment Youngaxor left for Oldgaxor at the foot of the statue, written as though from beyond the veil.

"We need to go kind of fast," Hester tells them. "I didn't say anything earlier, but you should know the Tesseract Scroll is fading." The party has a few days left, give or take. The deadline is inspiring, in a frightening sort of way.

From the top of Alistair's head, the Crown of Winter's Last Snow would like to know whether it will be coming with them.

Debbie cocks her head. "Why would you want to?"

"I don't want to stay here!" it chirps. "And I miss ruling! I would like to rule again. So you'll find me a realm?"

They will, the party assures the Crown. A museum. A very luxurious one. People will come just to see it.

"You can rule the display case," Debbie explains.

The Crown considers this. "That is a very small domain," it grumbles. Pouting, it tightens around Alistair's skull, and the fey cries out, clutching at the sides of their head. Titania flickers into view and casually mentions that she is perfectly willing to throw the Crown into the lava. KFC adds, for the record, that she is also willing to assist.

The Crown loosens. Marginally.

Debbie, snarling, threatens it with a stint in her Bag of Holding: dark, close, possibly less smelly than the crypt it was fetched from, but full of pumice and obsidian sharp enough to scratch platinum.

The Crown lets go and becomes, for once, silent.

⚔️

The letter to Youngaxor is a committee effort, which is to say it takes a while. The version that survives goes roughly like this. Dear son. It is quite peaceful up here. Your father has learned the answers to the universe. Vengeance, it turns out, gets you nowhere. He has it on the authority of God himself (or themselves, or itself; he couldn't really comprehend it) that the research they did together was wrong, and that finishing it will destroy the universe, Father, and son. Also, there is a suggestion for a postscript noting that it was very disrespectful to deface that statue. He raised him better.

"All five day of fatherhood," Reyna notes, flatly.

The letter closes with the customary love-yous, instructions to leave a reply under a rock, and a signature: Sincerely, Pops.

Hester does the writing, copying Oldgaxor's hand from the blackmail letters he sent Titania ages ago. Titania has carried them ever since, to remember her anger. The fey casts Enhance Ability for good measure. The forgery is not bad. It is not fantastic, either. But it is hard to write from beyond the veil, and it is dark in here, and a little stinky, and everyone agrees it will be fine.

For authenticity, Hester tears a scrap from one of the originals and tucks it inside. A son will know his father's hand.

The letter goes on the anvil.

⚔️

The abandoned city still has things in it worth taking.

Alternate Reyna finds a shield sealed in a metal case. When she lifts the lid, the dagger at her hip leaps from its scabbard and sticks fast to the shield's face. It is a shield that catches arrows, bolts, and anything else thrown at its bearer, and it is beautifully made, the way dwarves make things.

Alistair, who is having a day, tries to pick the lock on a jeweler's strongbox. His pick jams in the lock. He takes the whole box instead. It is two feet wide, a foot tall, heavy, and it rattles.

Debbie has already repurposed some fancy weaponry and sees no need to shop further.

There is still the question of why an entire city would flee and leave its valuables, and its dinners, on the table. Someone suggests the Dwarvish signs probably say don't come back here, you'll be cursed forever.

Then the ground shudders.

Hester and Reyna know the sound. It is a purple worm, one of the largest things there is, and it is somewhere behind the statue.

"Why did people build a civilization here?"

They found out it was not a great idea.

Titania introduces the party to a sacred form of fey combat: the tactical retreat. It is, KFC notes, also an ancient form of chicken combat. It is surprising how many cultures have it.

The party practices it.

⚔️

Debbie leads them out. She had a bump on the noggin recently, but she knows the way. At a ‘T’ in the tunnels, west is the exit. From the south comes the sound of someone praying.

It sounds a great deal like Murgaxor. The party would very much like not to go that way.

The party goes that way. Alistair casts Pass Without Trace, and he, Debbie, and Diro creep south without a sound.

Murgaxor kneels with his back to them, chanting at a small altar. He has made camp: bedrolls, an empty fire ring, an overturned crate for a desk. On the crate stand six metal statuettes, small enough to fit in a palm, stolen from the city.

There are six of them. There are six of the party. One looks very much like a chicken.

Diro has read the right books. He recognizes the type: figurines that grow, on command, into something very large. These might grow into iron golems.

Diro would like to throw them at Murgaxor and run. Everyone else would like to steal them.

Debbie, skilled at being where she should not be, walks up and collects all six. They are heavier than they look, five pounds apiece, and not one of them clinks. Thirty pounds of possible future golem go into the Bag of Holding.

⚔️

Then Alistair announces he is going back. Alone. As Oldgaxor.

The party objects. The letter plan has barely started. And Oldgaxor's last wish, presumably, was vengeance, not forgiveness; a sudden change of heart might raise questions. Titania has been alive for thousands of years and asks to be trusted.

Alistair flickers back in. "I'm doing it to protect my son!"

The others take a moment with this. Alistair has just claimed Squid as his child. They are too stunned to object.

He casts True Polymorph on himself and walks into the cave as a dead man.

"You summoned me, my son."

Murgaxor wheels around. His eyes fill with tears. He throws himself at his father's legs and sobs into his socks.

"Father. I knew you would come. I knew you wouldn't abandon me." And the artifacts are gone, taken by Father, obviously. "We have an army. You and I, father and son, we can take them."

Alistair explains that he is here to help his son become a better person. In his time in heaven, he has seen a better way. If his son continues down this path, he will go to hell, and they will be separated forever.

Murgaxor pauses. "Wait. Where did you land? You didn't go to the Bullywug afterlife?"

He did, Alistair assures him. The big farm.

It is an excellent lie. Murgaxor seems to believe it.

"Father, I would like the statuettes back."They have been taken somewhere Father cannot go, not until he must leave his son forever. His time on this earth is short. He has until the cock crows.

"So you will not give me back my artifacts?"

"They're no longer in the physical realm, my son. I need you to trust me. I need you to drop this need for revenge. It killed me, and I can't bear to see it kill you."

There are real tears in Alistair's eyes.

Murgaxor sits down. He doesn't understand. This runs counter to everything Father taught him. Alistair tells him he wants him to live the life Father never had the chance to. To be a good person.

"Yes. If you wish it, I will try."

Alistair needs him to promise.

"I just did. I said I will try. That's all any of us can do. Is that not the case?"

Alistair needs him to swear.

"I swear I will try."

Murgaxor studies his father's face. It gives him nothing. Then, gently: "You got my other messages, then?"

Alistair responds, sweating, that he heard the intention of his prayers.

"And Mother?"

Alistair explains that he came down from the Bullywug afterlife through that lighter spot on the ceiling, there. He also mentions the letter he sent. He had worried his son wouldn't find it, what with the monster.

Murgaxor rests a hand on his father's shoulder and casts Dispel Magic.

Oldgaxor is gone. Alistair is standing where he was.

He seizes Murgaxor by both of his hands to keep him from casting. "I don't want to hurt you," says Alistair. "But if you hurt my child—"

Around Murgaxor's neck hangs an amulet of protection from fire. Alistair recognizes it a moment too late. "I'm terribly sorry to do this to you," Murgaxor hisses, and speaks the word for Immolation.

Alistair is engulfed. In the extremity of pain, he appeals silently to the Crown. And the Crown responds that it would like a queendom, please. Larger than a museum case. A realm. Alistair is sure they will find someone else who wants to wear it. The Crown lends its frost.

It is not enough. Alistair keeps burning, barely standing. He lunges for the amulet at Murgaxor's throat and misses. He throws himself at Murgaxor anyway, ablaze and screaming, "That's for my son!"

It accomplishes nothing. He goes down, on fire.

The scream echoes up the tunnel to the other Hexmates. That makes twice tonight Alistair has called Squid his son. This is character development.

The Hexmates dash to help the new father.

⚔️

They arrive to a mess. Alistair is on the floor, burning. Murgaxor is backing away. The Hexmates are astounded at thespeed at which things have gone sideways, despite their planning.

Alistair gets up and throws himself at Murgaxor again. This time he gets the amulet. It snaps in his fist, and the flames stop hurting him.

Murgaxor looks horrified. Not at the party, but at his protection from fire leaving in someone else's hand.

He doesn't get long to dwell on it. KFC flies into a rage, and a burst of wild magic teleports her directly behind Murgaxor. She buries her battleaxe in the side of his head, opening a gash where his ear would be, if he had ears.

Diro rounds the corner at a dead sprint, pulling daggers from his bag and hurling them. Both hit. Both come back.

"Go!"

His stand rises over his shoulder and punches Murgaxor directly in the face. For a lesser man, it would be the kind of punch described as life-threatening. The follow-up is an uppercut to the jaw.

Hester sculpts Rime's Binding Ice around her friends and onto Murgaxor, who shrugs off half of it. He has a remarkable constitution.

Debbie commands her Rope of Climbing to fasten itself around Murgaxor as though he were a rock. It knots tight.

Bound, Murgaxor calls out: "Valentin! I need you."

Everyone in the room momentarily pauses, even the flames wreathing Alister seem to cease flickering.

 Valentin. The vampire Dean of Decay of Witherbloom College.

Nobody counted the bedrolls.

⚔️

The plan, such as it is: carry Murgaxor down the tunnel and drop him in the lava.

Someone pauses to offer him a choice: come with them as a prisoner, or die here, in honor of the father they killed.

"You killed my father?"

The choice is withdrawn. The Hexmates try the truth instead, all at once and at volume.

"He wasn't your dad!"

"He was you!"

"From the future!"

"He came back to manipulate you!"

Murgaxor stares at them. For a time, he believed his dead father came down through the ceiling from the big farm. This, he does not believe.

Hester and Reyna hear a familiar voice somewhere in the tunnels. “Murgaxor? What's going on? I heard something!” Then footsteps, running.

Alistair gags Murgaxor. KFC hoists the professor over her shoulder and runs for the nearest pool of lava.

Behind her, Alistair is having second thoughts. What if they just erased Murgaxor's memory and brought him back to campus? They have, after all, already killed him once.

Hester rounds on them.

"Now?"