When we arrived at the village, it had already begun to flood. The great serpents we had seen in Skull River had beat us here, and here they crawled up the beach, which was now submerged, and on to the city streets. A man stood cornered in an alley, and took up a defensive posture between the serpent and a group of school children. Steranis bellowed out a great roar, and once again the old man transformed into a great stone giant. He charged toward the snake, swinging his pole-arm this way and that, and the townspeople parted to make way. Tenebis swooped down to take on the other serpent, who looked much like it had already swallowed someone, and was slithering away to digest its meal.

As for myself, I could no longer fly, for my magic was nearly gone for the day. I brandished my staff and began to pelt the nearest snake with magic missiles.

Before long, there was a great splashing sound behind me, and I turned to see a great monster emerging the lake. The black, many-tentacled thing was at least fifty feet wide, and as it squelched up onto the shore, a great cloud of billowing grey smoke billowed out from it like ink dispersing in water.

Tenebis looked up too, having finished with the serpent he had been fighting, and saw the great monstrosity.

“We’re fucked…” he said out loud.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” I said, “you’re too pretty to die. And so am I,” I insisted to myself, trying to summon my courage.

The cloud of smoke overtook me, and as I coughed on the bitter air, I felt the familiar rush of hostile magic overtaking me. My vision blurred. People became nothing more than coloured shapes dancing about, and anger rushed through me like a flood. Try as I might, I could no longer distinguish friend from foe. Someone shoved me, and I found myself turning and running after her. I shot at her. Something slimy grabbed me from behind and smashed me against the ground. Everything went black.

◊◊◊

As I slowly regained consciousness, I found that I was lying on my back on the ground. Two faces hovered over me, but my vision was coming slowly, and I could not yet distinguish them. As they slowly faded into view, I began to make out colours. To my left, an olive skinned face with long, silver-white hair; to my right, a grey one, completely bald. Someone’s hand rested on my forehead, and it felt cool against my skin. My reason returned to me faster than my vision, and I was able to fight out the realisation that these were Asclepius and Domoki, respectively, though I still could not see enough to recognise their faces.

“Asclepius, did I hit you?” I asked, slurring my words as I came to.

Domoki, realizing that I was now awake, quickly removed his hand from my forehead and hid it behind his back.

“Don’t mention it,” Asclepius replied. “You were not yourself.”

“I’m sorry I hit you,” I said.

“There’s no need to apologize. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Dunno,” I answered, “can’t see yet.”

Asclepius recited a spell, and shone a bright light into my eyes. I squinted.

“Good,” she muttered to herself.

“Did I die?” I asked.

“No, you were just unconscious,” she answered.

“That’s what I thought. Because, you see, I’m too pretty to die.”

Domoki chuckled quietly.

“It would seem he is himself again,” said Domoki. “Perhaps you should go tend to the others.”

“There is nothing to be done for them, at the moment” said Asclepius, a note of sorrow in her voice. “But if you two would like to be left alone, I shall go.”

Asclepius packed up her bag and got to her feet.

“Thank you, Pigeon,” said Domoki, as she walked away.

“What did she mean, ‘there is nothing to be done for them?’ What happened?” I asked Domoki.

“Steranis and Ulrick are both dead.”

“Shit,” I said. “Did we slay the sea monster?”

“No,” said Domoki. “It got bored after a while, and returned to the lake. Tenebis says it’s some sort of Demigod, but that’s all he knows.”

Domoki’s face was slowly fading into view as my sight returned to me. One by one, I made out his features: the lumpy, misshapen nose; the droopy eyelids; the chipped and scratched living stone of his cheeks and forehead; the hard-set mouth. Oread faces were foreign to me, and I could not read emotions in his as I did with other people. But his voice betrayed what his face hid, and I knew that Domoki was terrified, angry, and sad, all at once.

“We can bring Steranis, Ulrick, and Joanos back,” I reminded him. “We have the money, we just have to go Magnimar. It worked for Asclepius.”

◊◊◊

When I had fully come to, I watched as Asclepius performed the ritual to call Ulrick back from the afterlife. It turned out she could do this herself now (or perhaps she always could; she wasn’t particularly open about the extent of her abilities). Asclepius laid out Ulrick’s body on the ground, placed the candles around it and lit them. We waited with baited breath as she chanted her prayers and offered up the diamond dust (which I supposed she had had the foresight to procure before we left the city). The precious dust was swept away on the wind. Some of the dust settled on Ulrick’s body. It caught the light in a unique way, causing the silent and still corpse of the young Aasimar to sparkle as we watched it intently for signs of life. All of a sudden, his chest rose in a great, heaving gasp for air. He opened his eyes and blinked several times.

“Sweet!” he exclaimed. “I’m back! Thanks, Pigeon!”

I laughed. It seemed Domoki’s nickname for Asclepius was catching on.

Next was Steranis. The ritual that Asclepius laid out for Steranis was different, and at first, I wasn’t sure why. As Asclepius chanted, something was appearing next to Steranis’ body. It was ethereal at first, wispy and translucent, but slowly it began to take the shape of a man, and I realized what she was doing. Asclepius was creating a whole new body for Steranis, a young one. When he returned, he would no longer be plagued by the aches and pains of old age. The young body had pale skin, broad shoulders, and the delicately pointed ears of a half-elf. It did not come clothed. I thought for a moment that perhaps I ought not to stare, but the process was too interesting for me to forgo watching. When the young body had finished taking form, Asclepius placed one hand on Steranis’ shoulder, the other on the young man’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and concentrated. The young man’s chest slowly began to rise and fall. The young man’s eyes opened and he looked around. Then, as if as an afterthought, he looked down at his own body.

“Hmm, half-elf,” he said. “It’ll do.”

He gave his new body a shake or two, then walked over to his old body, removed the clothes from it, and put them on himself.

“Is there anything you want us to do with your old body?” asked Asclepius.

“No,” answered Steranis, “it is but a vessel. Throw it in the lake.”

We had left Joanos’ body at the Fort, and presently I mentioned we should probably go back for it if we were going to raise him as well. As much as things were far more pleasant without him, I couldn’t deny that he was useful, and if we were up against Demigods, we needed all the help we could get.

“No,” said Asclepius, simply. “He left me instructions not to try to bring him back.”

It took a minute for that information to sink in. I had wondered if his reckless behaviour in the last combat was the result of magical compulsion, but in light of the new information, I began to see it for what it was. Joanos had left this mortal realm on purpose; it was suicide by Ogre.

“What his life really that miserable?” I asked, more to myself than anyone else, but I suppose I spoke aloud, because Asclepius answered me.

“Why do you think he was always drinking?”

I had never thought of it that way, but in retrospect, it was obvious. Joanos had been a profoundly unhappy man, drowning his sorrows in drink, and lashing out at the world whenever he could. I had been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of many of his lashing-outs, but now that I saw them in context, I felt a little bad about how I had handled them.

“I suppose I wasn’t really helping matters, was I?” I reflected out loud.

“You are not to blame,” she said. “You were only responding to his attempts to antagonize you.”

Steranis unslung his pack from his shoulders and coaxed Joanos’ ferret out. After a short time chattering back and forth with Steranis, the ferret looked around at each of us, as if to say farewell, and ran off into woods alone.

◊◊◊

The village had been evacuated by this point in light of the rising water level. We were exhausted from the ordeals of the day, so we slept a fitful sleep before heading out the next morning to see what had happened to the dam. I felt stronger in the morning, and a new reserve of magic sat untouched for the day’s use. We packed up quickly and were on our way. As we left town, I noticed the water level had receded a bit since last night, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

As we made our way upstream toward the dam, the river banks rose steeply on both sides until we found ourselves in a canyon carved out by the river.

After a few hours walking, we rounded a corner and the dam came into view. A great stone monstrosity spanned the width of the canyon here. Into the face of it were carved five giant skulls, somewhat weathered over the passage of centuries, but imposing nonetheless. The right-most of the skulls was almost completely obscured by the giant cascade of water pouring down the inside of the dam. A huge section of the dam near the top had cracked and fallen away, and water poured down from the gaping hole with a tremendous roar.

On the near side of the river, a tall stone staircase ascended toward the top of the dam. Along its sides, pikes were hammered into the stone and capped with skulls. The skulls came from all manner of animals, from badgers and foxes to great cats, dogs, and bears, to humans and even the occasional Ogre.

“What kills Ogres around here?” I asked.

“Trolls,” replied Tenebis.

“How do you know that?” I wondered aloud, for Tenebis hadn’t shown much evidence of having done research before this.

“I know a great deal of things,” he answered, “only there was no need to share them when we had Joanos around to do it for me.”

“Oh,” I said, “Sorry.”

“They’re vulnerable to fire,” he added. “Have fun!”

I grinned, and we began to make our way up the steps.

As we ascended the steps, and idea began to form in my mind. Domoki was walking next to me, quietly, deep in thought. He had three quivers strapped to his back, each containing a different type of arrows, and his bow was strung, but hung over his shoulder.

“Domoki,” I asked, “which of these quivers do you use most often?”

“Huh?” he asked, wondering, I suppose, at the intent of the question.

“Which of these quivers do you use most often?” I repeated, not quite willing to let on to the nature of my plan.

“Umm… this one. Cold-iron,” he replied, a bit hesitantly.

I cast a spell and pointed at the quiver he had indicated. A glowing bead of light exited from my index finger and floated over to the quiver of cold iron arrows. There it settled, and the quiver full of arrows glowed faintly for a moment before fading. Domoki looked at me quizzically for a moment, but when I didn’t answer to his inquiring gaze, he shrugged and continued climbing. I smiled quietly to myself and followed him up.

As we neared the top of the stairs, we prepared ourselves for combat. Tenebis grew to twelve feet tall, Steranis assumed Stone Giant form, and I sprouted my wings. Ulrick unholstered his gun and Domoki unslung his bow from his shoulder and knocked an arrow.

The stairs ended abruptly in a small cliff. Ten feet up the cliff was the mouth of a cavern. From another cavern entrance forty feet to the right emerged more stairs leading up to the top of the dam. It seemed the cavern was likely to connect the two entrances, leaving us little choice but to pass right through it. Tenebis flew in, and I followed a short distance behind, and we stopped for a moment to let our eyes adjust to the dim light.

Before us stood an enormous two-headed giant. It wielded a flail in each arm and lumbered towards us from the back of the cave.

“That’s not a Troll,” observed Tenebis, “that’s an Ettin.”

To our surprise, the Ettin spoke before attacking. His two heads took turns shouting brief commands at us.

“Go away!” grunted the left head. “Turn around!” grunted the right one. “Go back!” “No want you here!”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” said Tenebis. “We need to fix the dam.”

“No!” “No fix dam!” “Our dam!” “Not yours!” “Go away!” “No bribes!” “Gorger no take bribes!” “Chaw no take bribes!” “No bribes!”

“Really?” I asked, flying up closer to draw attention to myself. “Are you sure you don’t take bribes? Because it does seem to me like that might be the easiest way to deal with this little situation. We do have quite a bit of gold!”

At this, the Ettin attacked.

“Oh well,” I said, flying up out of his reach and raining down fire, “have it your way.”

Those of us who couldn’t fly were still stuck on the stairs, and Tenebis and I had to hold off the Ettin for some time while they climbed up. Steranis probably could have turned into a Pterodactyl again, but then his wingspan would have been too large to enter the mouth of the cave, so this wasn’t helping him. However, in his twelve foot tall stone giant form, he had little trouble hoisting himself up over the lip and into the cave to join the fight.

The ranged attackers couldn’t get a clear shot at the Ettin from down below. The cave did not leave a lot of extra room, and the three of us probably could have handled the Ettin on our own, but nonetheless Ulrick took it upon himself to scramble up the cliff face to get a better shot.

“Really? Is that what we’re doing?” I heard Domoki ask, rhetorically, as he reluctantly began to climb up the cliff as well.

Ulrick scrambled into the cave and bullets began to fly. Unfortunately, entering the cave also put him within reach of the Ettin, who seized the opportunity to attack someone smaller.

Domoki climbed into the cave as well and loosed his first arrow of the fight, and I treasured the look of surprise and glee on his face when the arrow caught fire mid-flight.

“Cool!” exclaimed Domoki, as he fired three more arrows and watched them flare up, but I think he was distracted by the novelty, for all three of them missed their mark.

The Ettin had Ulrick backed into a corner by now, and Ulrick was on his last legs when Domoki’s arrows finally started hitting. Both heads roared, and he wheeled around, still ignoring Tenebis and Steranis, and wailed on Domoki instead. Circling the beast overhead, I stepped up the intensity of my fire, burning through it more rapidly than I ought to.

The Ettin swung his flail out at knee level, sweeping Domoki’s legs out from under him. Domoki fell to the ground, smashing his face against a rock. Tenebis and Steranis swung back at the Ettin with sword and naginata as I continued to pour fire out onto it. It swung its flails once more, at once knocking Steranis back and smashing Domoki’s head further into the rock. Tenebis’ next blow felled the Ettin. I landed next to Domoki. He was not moving, and I dared not turn him over for fear of causing more damage.

Tenebis swooped out of the cave and returned with Asclepius, but after checking for a pulse, she shook her head sadly at me. It was simple gesture, but it hit me in the chest like a Warhammer. Tenebis rolled Domoki over onto his back. The living stone of his face was shattered, and as his body settled onto its back, chips of stone slid off and landed on the ground. Beneath his shattered face, the orange magma of his insides oozed out. I stood there in shock for a few moments, taking in the gruesome sight. Finally, I tore my eyes away from his mangled face and stared imploringly at Asclepius.

“Please tell me you have more diamond dust,” I said. “You can bring him back, right?”

“I can, if he is willing,” she answered.

“The Trolls know we’re coming now. They’ll have heard gunshots,” pointed out Tenebis. “It’s not safe to do it here. We could get jumped.”

“No!” I snapped. “I’m not leaving him here!”

“Then we’ll take him with us,” said Tenebis.

“Yeah, sure, you’re just going to sling him over your shoulder and keep on fighting!” I exclaimed, “That’ll work great! It’s not like you need both arms for that!”

"Well I was going to put him in the bag of holding..." started Tenebis.

At this, I lost it. "YOU ARE NOT. GOING. TO SHOVE HIS CORPSE. IN. A BAG." I yelled.

“Tenebis,” said Asclepius, gently, “We're not down one. We're down two." She nodded her head sideways at me, then went on. "Stand watch at the mouth of cave please, and I shall call Domoki back.”

Tenebis and Asclepius stared at each other for a few moments, as if in a battle of wills, but it seemed Asclepius won out. Tenebis turned and walked over to the far side of the cave, and Steranis guarded the near entrance.

The next hour swam by in a blur as Asclepius performed the now familiar ceremony. I was always surprised at how the gust of wind came right at the moment the diamond dust was offered, even in a stuffy cave like this one. It seemed that the Gods really were watching and working through her. The stone of Domoki’s face slowly moved back into place, the gashes closed up, and soon he looked like himself again. His chest began to rise and fall once more, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. I hadn’t noticed I had been holding my breath. Domoki opened his eyes in serene silence. He looked about, and seemed to be counting us, trying to account for each one so as to know he was the only one down. Slowly, he sat up and began checking himself for wounds. Finding none, he looked up at me.

“Well, how do I look?” he asked.

“Well, your face is kinda fucked up…” I began.

He quickly raised his hand to his face to assess the damage.

“…but no more so than usual,” I finished.

The look of worry disappeared from his face and he shot me a disappointed glare. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Ulrick covering his mouth to hide a laugh. Domoki stood and took a few steps forward. I was surprised to find him steady on his feet already.

“Shall we go on then?” he asked.

◊◊◊

Exiting the cave, we climbed the last few steps up to the top of the dam. To the north were the high, churning waters of Storval Deep; to the South, the long drop to Skull River below.

A group of Ogres stood atop the dam a ways from us, chipping away the stonework with pickaxes. That certainly explained the hole in the dam and the flooding. Tenebis and Steranis had great fun pushing the Ogres off the dam and watching them fall down the steep dam wall to their deaths in Skull River.

We walked along the top of the dam to what looked like it might be the control room. Tenebis busted open the door, and we met our first Trolls.

They were massive, broad, sickly green coloured things, with arms hanging down to their knees. They suffered from a terrific case of under-bite, causing their lower tusks to stick out far in front of their faces, with their large flat noses and their black, empty-looking eyes.

They did not like fire, and between my fireballs and Domoki’s flaming arrows, they were soon toast.

“Yeah!” exclaimed Domoki, when the last spark had died out and the burnt Trolls lay at our feet. “Go team flame!”

Tenebis and Ulrick chuckled.

Domoki held one hand out for a high five, but I simply stared at him, one eyebrow raised sceptically.

“Yeah, can you not call us ‘team flame’?” I asked.

“Why?” said Domoki.

“Well, I was trying to avoid the obvious ‘flaming homosexual’ jokes, but apparently, it’s too late for that.”

“I don’t get it,” said Domoki.

“I’ll explain later,” I said. “Let’s find the controls for this dam.”

We did not find the controls on this level, but we did find stairs leading down into the inside of the dam, which we took. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we found ourselves in a dark room mostly filled with a pool dug into the floor. There was something swimming in the pool, and it tried attacking us – two somethings, in fact, as we soon learned – but they were quickly dissuaded, and they swam off into the depths and out of sight.

In the next room, we were attacked by a strange, scorpion-shaped creature made entirely of skulls. It seemed intent on adding to its collection, and very nearly succeeded when it came to Tenebis’ head. It had him in its pincers and was just about to tear his head off of his body when Asclepius cast a spell on him and he got all slippery and was able to wrench himself out of the skull-scorpion’s grasp. When the creature finally died, it fell apart, and several dozen skulls clattered across the floor.

Looking around, we discovered in this room a scale model of the dam sitting in a small pool against the Eastern wall. This we presumed to be the controls for the dam, though we did not yet know how they worked. Tenebis was eager to sweep the rest of the complex for monsters first before we took to the time to figure that out, and, having no particular desire to be ambushed by some foul creature, I agreed wholeheartedly.

There were only two more rooms left. The first was empty save for another non-descript pool of water.

In the final room, two spacious alcoves were carved into opposite walls, a rusted iron portcullis closing off the entrance to each. Inside the west alcove was nothing more than a pile of crimson ash, but in the left one, a large comatose creature lay on the ground. With its massive dark red humanoid body, larger even than Steranis in his stone giant form, its bat-like wings, and its reptilian face with long, sharp horns, it looked to be a denizen of hell. As we neared the creature to get a closer look, it lifted its head weakly off the ground, opened its glowing red eyes and gasped out a few words in Taldane:

“Please… let me out…”

“Tell me who you are first, and I’ll consider it,” answered Tenebis.

“I was once called… Avaxial… but I have been trapped here for ten thousand years… and no one has called me anything in that time…”

“Who trapped you here?”

“A Runelord named Karzoug. This device…” he gestured to the alcove in which he lay, “sucks out my life-force… to power the dam. And I’m almost out. My brother over there,” he continued, indicating the pile of ash in the other alcove, “ran out about 50 years ago. That’s why the dam… won’t open. It needs life forms in both alcoves for power.”

“Are you a devil?” asked Tenebis.

“You know I am…” he rasped.

“Then why should we let you out?” asked Asclepius.

“Because you only have three options…” answered the Devil, “and letting me out is the least repugnant of them.”

“Oh?” I asked. “How so?”

“Well your first option…” he began, summoning his remaining strength and pulling himself up onto his elbows “…is to let me out. And I shall go back to hell, and I shall bother you no longer. Your second option… is to put someone in that other alcove… and activate the floodgates… sucking the rest of my life-force out and killing me. But if you do this… I still go back to hell, and this time I have a grudge against you, for forcing me to suffer… and when I return, I will burn your homes to the ground, and take everything that you hold dear. And of course your third option… is to leave me here, and do nothing… but if you do that, the dam will break, and the whole land will flood, and I suspect all sorts of people will drown. So you see,” he finished with a coy smile, “you’re in a bit of a fix.”

We retreated out of earshot of the devil to discuss our options.

“First of all, is he telling the truth?” I asked Domoki.

“Yes, but not all of it,” he answered.

“If you kill a devil,” volunteered Asclepius, “it’s stuck in hell for 100 years and can’t leave.”

“It’s when it gets out after 100 years that you have to worry,” said Tenebis.

“Won’t we all be dead by then?” asked Ulrick.

“Domoki won’t,” said Tenebis, “unless he gets himself killed again. And I’d like to think I might still be alive by then as well.”

“Not to mention some of us might have children,” I added. “The question is, if we make some sort of deal with him, can we trust him to follow it?”

“If you are very careful about the wording of the deal,” provided Asclepius, “then yes. A devil is like an evil lawyer. They get you on the technicalities.”

“Then what we need is someone to draft an airtight contract,” said Tenebis.

“Damn it,” I said, “just when we need Joanos, he goes and dies on us.”

“We will just have to do the best we can,” said Tenebis. “I don’t want a devil with a grudge coming back to torment me in my old age.”

“I’m not comfortable with this,” I admitted.

“Good,” said Asclepius, “you shouldn’t be.”

◊◊◊

It took some time, but eventually we came up with what we hoped was an adequate contract.

This contract is a binding agreement between Avaxial, Pit Fiend of Nessus and the group referred to herein as “The Seven”: Tenebis, of Cheliax; Asclepius, Cleric of Dalenydra; Brother Domoki, of the Kazaron Sactum; Ulrick Kranar; Steranis, fourth incarnation of the Tanglevine Druid; and Ÿridhrenor Ruyshekcu. The fact there are only six members of the group known as “The Seven” shall not void this contract.

The Seven agrees to dispel the magic circle imprisoning Avaxial on the Material Plane. Furthermore, the Seven agrees to allow Avaxial to Teleport back to Nessus, the ninth level of hell.

In return, Avaxial agrees to remain in hell for one hundred and one (101) years. During this time, Avaxial shall not enter the Material Plane, nor shall he send any of his minions, associates, contractors, or subsidiaries to the Material Plane for any reason.

After a period of one hundred and one (101) years has elapsed, Avaxial is permitted to travel between the planes. However, at no point shall Avaxial or his minions, associates, contractors, or subsidiaries contact the Seven or their heirs or descendants for ten generations. Avaxial (and his minions, associates, contractors, and subsidiaries) shall not, directly or indirectly, harm the Seven (or their heirs or descendants for ten generations) nor in any way seek retaliation upon the Seven (or their heirs or descendants for ten generations) for any harm done to him at Skull’s crossing.

When the contract was complete, we passed it through the bars to Avaxial and hoped for the best. He skimmed it over casually, pricked his finger with a sharp fang, and signed it in blood. I was concerned by the fact that he did not even try to argue the terms, and desperately hoped that it was out of desperation that he agreed so readily, and not that we had left an obvious loophole. Avaxial passed it back through the bars and dragged himself to his feet.

Tenebis cast dispel magic upon the stones imprisoning Avaxial, and in seconds, he had Teleported out and was gone from this plane.

◊◊◊

Having released the devil (and hopefully having succeeded at banishing him to hell for an hundred and one years), we were left with the question of how to power the dam.

“So, the dam uses whoever’s in the alcoves as a power source?” I asked, to no one in particular, since we’d all received the same information from Avaxial.

“Seems like,” said Tenebis.

“Right then,” I said, lifting the portcullis on one of the alcoves and stepping in, “I volunteer.”

“Urhador, you don’t need to do that,” said Domoki.

“Relax, Domoki,” I said, “Avaxial was in there for 10,000 years. It obviously drains life force very slowly. One activation isn’t going to kill me.”

I waited expectantly for someone to step into the other alcove.

“Urhador, stop being ridiculous,” said Tenebis. “Get out of there. I’ll summon some scorpions or something.”

“What, you mean it doesn’t have to be sentient life?” I asked. “You can just throw any old bug in there and it’ll work?”

“Only one way to find out,” said Tenebis.

I stepped out of the alcove, slightly embarrassed.

Tenebis dismissed his Eidolon, and the telltale glow lifted off of him, forming into its own creature and flying up through the ceiling of the room and out of sight.

Steranis, meanwhile, was staring very intently at the stone floor of the East alcove. As he stared, the stone slowly began to move, molding and shaping itself like clay until it had formed the shape of a small cage in the center of the alcove’s floor.

When the cage was complete, Tenebis walked over and summoned a scorpion into it. The scorpion skittered to and fro within the cage, searching for a way out, but there was none, and its efforts were fruitless.

When Steranis and Tenebis had repeated the procedure in the other alcove, we stood around waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.

“The controls,” said Tenebis, as walked out of the room and back towards the scale model of the dam we had found earlier.

A minute later, there was a great flash of light in each alcove, and when the light faded, two, tiny black piles of ash remained – all that was left of the summoned scorpions. Then there was a low rumbling sound and the floor beneath my feet vibrated. The sound of rushing water filled my ears as the water of Storval deep finally flowed once again through the open floodgate of the Skull’s Crossing Dam.

The flooding in Turtleback Ferry would be worse at first, since there was more water pouring through the floodgate than had been pouring over the top, but we had relieved the pressure on the dam, and the danger of it collapsing altogether had thus past. Once this infernal rain stopped, everything should go back to normal.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

FAQ

What is this?

This is a character journal from a playthrough of the Pathfinder Adventure Path "Rise of the Runelords". It contains spoilers (obviously) from Rise of the Runelords, but game mechanics are abstracted in favour of telling a narrative.

Where can I read more?

The full, novel length story can be read at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787326/

This story is 5 years old, why are you posting it to r/gametales now?

After a long hiatus due to having young children, I have more content coming soon! Over the next few weeks, I'll be posting excerpts from "Too Pretty to Die" to r/gametales in hopes of drumming up an audience before the next big installment of the story is posted.

Does this story have romance in it?

Duh.

I hope you enjoy my story! If you're still reading, please comment below and let me know what you think! I love fan-mail and criticism alike!

The next day, disguised as merchants, we showed up at the Seven’s Sawmill to scout out the location. We planned to show up at the next meet, Oathday at midnight, in Iesha’s place, but we wanted to get the layout of the building first.

The front door was open, and men were working inside. By all accounts, it looked like a legitimate business. I walked up to the foreman and made conversation to distract him, giving the others cover to look around. Domoki stayed with me to act as lie detector. I pretended to be interested in buying a large quantity of lumber to build a manor. Talking about design choices, and mentioning a few other manors in the area, I casually let it drop that Foxglove Manor had burned down. I hoped Domoki was paying attention, for this was where I hoped he would catch any concealed reaction at the mention of Foxglove Manor. When it came time for us to make our exit, I started to ask about increasingly rare types of wood, until I hit upon one that they didn’t have. Then I hemmed and hawed significantly, said I’d have to look around, and excused myself.

We regrouped outside the Sawmill.

“Urhador, when you mentioned Foxglove manor,” said Asclepius, “one of the labourers in the corner suddenly looked over and took interest in your conversation. I think he knows something.”

“Interesting,” I said, “Domoki, did you get anything from the foreman?”

“I did not sense any deception coming from him,” answered Domoki.

“Then I guess Asclepius’ man is our guy, at least until proven otherwise,” said Joanos. “I think we should wait for him to leave, and follow him to see where he goes.”

We found a nearby set of benches from which we could relatively unobtrusively watch the comings and goings of the mill.

Three hours passed, and as evening dawned, Asclepius elbowed Tenebis in the side and pointed out a man leaving the mill.

“That’s him,” she whispered. “Don’t move yet. He’ll see us.”

We waited until he had passed us, then Joanos cast message, turned himself invisible, and set off after him. The rest of us followed at an inconspicuous distance, receiving whispered directions through the link. We ended up at an unassuming house in a middle class neighbourhood.

“So what do we do now?” I asked. “Do you want me to try to talk to him?”

“No,” said Joanos. “We have nothing to go on. We know they’re up to something, but we have no idea what. We need to sleuth around. Get some evidence. I say we come back at night. Pick the locks. Sneak in and look around.”

“Will evidence obtained that way be admissible in court?” asked Domoki.

“Are you kidding?” I asked, “Don’t be so naïve. The Justices here don’t care how evidence was obtained. Our bigger concern is if they’ve already bought out the Justices. We’ll just have to hope that’s not the case.”

◊◊◊

As midnight neared, we returned to the house once again. Tenebis went around to the back trying to peer in windows. Joanos quietly set about picking the lock. The rest of us held back and watched. We were just there in case a fight broke out and backup was required.

Joanos’ work was slow and methodical, and he spent several minutes hunched over the lock before a soft click was finally heard, and Joanos straightened out, looking pleased with himself.

But before he moved again, the door swung open of its own accord. The man we had been following stood in the doorway holding a hooded lantern.

“Not quiet enough, I’m afraid,” he said. “May I help you?”

Joanos was lost for words. As the seconds passed in uncomfortable silence, I thought desperately of a way to salvage the situation. None came to mind. But someone had to say something, so I stepped forward and gave it my best shot.

“So sorry to have picked your lock, sir,” I began. “Lady Foxglove sent us. I was hoping we could speak in private…” I continued, pausing to look around suspiciously, “…away from prying eyes?”

He laughed.

“You’re not Iesha’s people. You’re those cunts who killed Elsapeth and paraded her body right through the town square! Don’t think I don’t know who you are, Urhador!”

I almost turned around to shoot a nasty look at Tenebis, but then remembered he was on the other side of the building. He had just had to make us the most conspicuous visitors in town.

“Word travels fast,” I admitted. “It would seem, then, that you know a great deal about us, while we know very little about you. That puts us at a disadvantage. I don’t like being at a disadvantage,” I said, with my hand on the sheath of my dagger to illustrate the nature of my threat.

He laughed again.

“Are you one of the Brothers of the Seven?” I demanded, ignoring his laughter.

“Oh, that I should be so lucky…” he said.

“He’s looking pretty lucky to me…” whispered Asclepius’ voice in my ear.

“What’s the nature of your dealings with the Foxgloves?” I pressed.

“Urhador,” he answered sweetly, “you ask too many questions. If you are not out of my sight by the time I count to three, I am calling for the city guard. You’ll be surprised at how quickly they respond… They’re just around the corner. You see, the Brothers bought them off long ago… One…”

Joanos drew his sword.

“…two…”

“If you scream, I will slit your throat,” said Joanos.

The man took a break from counting to size us up. There were six of us, as far as he knew, and only one of him. He slammed the door in our faces, and I heard footsteps as he ran through his house toward the back. A horn sounded, its mournful note echoing up through the chimney of the house and projecting out across the sky.

“Tenebis,” I whispered through the link, “He’s trying to get away. If you can stop him without killing him, do it.”

◊◊◊

Tenebis slung the unconscious suspect over his shoulder, and we got out of there fast. We had no intentions of waiting around for the city guard to show up, even if there might be evidence in the house. We’d have to find our evidence elsewhere.

“So – where shall we go with this unconscious body?” I asked, to no one in particular.

“Well, we can’t take him back to the inn,” said Steranis.

“That would be suspicious,” pointed out Ulrick, satisfying his knack for stating the obvious.

“Let’s go to the mill,” said Joanos. “They had an unused basement where we can question him, and we might find evidence there. It should be empty at this time of night, and if it’s not, that’s worth investigating.”

We brought him to the basement of the mill. The door was locked, but this time, when Joanos picked the lock, no one rudely interrupted him by opening the door before he finished. The undermill was full of waterwheels, ropes, pulleys, and other machinery that powered the rest of the mill. There were no chairs here to tie the prisoner to, so Tenebis simply tied his wrists and ankles together and let him fall to the floor.

When Asclepius woke him up, he came to slowly, and looked around, assessing his surroundings before focusing on any of us.

“Where are the other six Brothers?” I asked.

“You want to meet the brothers?” he asked, in a mocking tone, “THEY’RE HERE!”

I nearly jumped at his sudden yelling.

“Well, that was easy,” I said. “Let’s go find them.”

Leaving our prisoner bound and helpless in the basement, we set off to find the rest of them. The undermill was not connected to the other floors on the inside, so we left the mill and paused to strategize before re-entering on the ground floor. Ulrick wanted to burn the whole place down and force the brothers to come out and fight us on our own terms, but Joanos was quick to point out that that would destroy any evidence to be found inside.

Our huddle was interrupted when a single arrow whizzed out of the top floor window and landed at my feet. Judging by its trajectory, it had not been intended to hit us; a warning shot, perhaps. But when I looked more closely, I saw that speared on the head of the arrow was a small slip of paper; someone had sent us a message.

I leaned down and retrieved the paper from the arrow. The message was short and to the point:

Come and get me. – T

Rage seethed up inside me as I recognised the handwriting of my nemesis.

“Shit…” I said, “I’m going in.”

Obviously, it was a trap, but try as I might, I could not pass up an opportunity to recapture Tsuto.

Fortunately for me, my allies were not willing to let me charge into a trap alone, so as I entered the mill, I felt the comforting presence of my six allies at my back.

Though all the machinery was disconnected for the night, sawdust still hung thick in the air, and every step stirred up more of it. It would not be safe to use fire in here. That must have been why Tsuto picked it. It was where I would be weakest.

Asclepius cast fire resistance on us all, just in case, as we began to make our way up the stairs. As we slowly ascended, we found the first, second, and third floors all to be empty. They were waiting for us at the top.

As we neared the top of the stairs, Tenebis was hit by the first arrow. A dozen hooded cultists stood clustered at the top of the stairs, most of them wielding shortbows. The three in front were armed with swords. Tenebis and the tiger ran the rest of the way up and engaged them. They tried forcing us to fight on the stairs, but the few in front were no match for us, and they slowly began to yield level ground. Meanwhile, arrows, bullets, and magic missiles flew as we tried to pick off the archers in back. Though they outnumbered us two to one, most of them seemed inexperienced, and the tide of the battle slowly began to turn in our favour. When the first few had fallen, I noticed another quietly slip away from the group. He was withdrawing, and leaving his mooks to fight for him.

His face was still covered by the hood, so the only parts of him showing were his hands. He bore the long slender fingers of an Elf, and his fingernails were filed to a point in the Elven style. But he was too short for an Elf, his feet too large.

Tsuto was a half-elf, I knew. In my mind, I could not be positive, but in my gut, I was certain that this was him. Ignoring the others, I focused my magic missiles on my nemesis as he retreated. They weren’t enough. He was getting away. I jumped across the void in the winding staircase and caught the banister on the other side. Scrambling over, I went after him. Focusing my fire into a narrow beam to lessen the risk, I let loose. Flames seared toward him, and with an uncanny dodge, he lunged away, escaping the heat. Sparks littered the air, as particles of saw dust burnt up. Fortunately, it did not spread. Tsuto drew a potion, reached up under his hood, and disappeared.

A door opened, and an Elf stepped out, wearing a gruesome mask that appeared to be made of human skin. Tenebis came up behind me, having finished with the expendables guarding the staircase, and attacked a seemingly empty spot. His sword met with resistance. Somehow, he had found Tsuto, even while invisible. I cast glitterdust, covering the whole area in cool sparks, and outlining the figure of the invisible man.

The tiger pounced on the Elf. Knocked off balance, the Elf staggered back into the room from whence he’d come and closed the door. There was a loud thump as the bar fell into place, locking us out.

An arrow whizzed past Tenebis and embedded itself in Tsuto’s side. With one final blow, Tenebis knocked Tsuto to the ground.

Joanos cast a spell on the door, and it swung open. The Elf was trying to escape up a ladder on to the roof. He didn’t make it, but I paid no attention. My nemesis was before me on the ground, and though he was still invisible, that would wear off soon. I stood and waited.

Less than a minute later, the hooded figure on the ground faded back into view. I bent down and pulled off his hood. I was right. It was Tsuto.

Asclepius walked up behind me, knelt beside him, and checked his pulse. She looked up and met my angry gaze levelly.

“He is stable now,” she said. “If I come back and he’s dead, that’s murder. And I will report you.”

I stared back.

“Understood,” I said, simply.

She left to check on the Elf. Tenebis pulled the mask off of his face. There was silence for a moment as everyone stared. I pulled my eyes away from Tsuto for just a moment to see what all the fuss was about. Staring back at me were the cold, empty eyes of Justice Ironbriar.

“Domoki,” I said, “there is something wrong with that Justice.”

Asclepius checked his pulse and announced that he was dead.

“Great,” said Joanos, “now we’ve killed a Justice. There’d better be some pretty fucking damning evidence in here, or we are thoroughly screwed.” He looked up and scanned the room. More human skin masks hung from the walls of this room, which seemed to be an office of some sort. “Oh, great. Flayed people masks. Creepifying, but not technically illegal unless we can prove he was the one who killed those people.”

The others fanned out and began to search the place. Steranis climbed the ladder to the roof, where he found a rookery, and spent some time talking to a raven. As for me, I stood watch over my nemesis. He had gotten away from me once, and I swore to myself that this time, I would not let him out of my sight until he was dead. I pulled out a rope and tied him up at the wrists and ankles, in case he should wake up. As the others filtered away, I found myself nearly alone with Tsuto. Only Joanos remained on the fourth floor with me, but he was occupied with inspecting the mask, and paid no attention to me. I stared at Tsuto. As I stood and stared at the face of my helpless nemesis, other faces flitted through my mind. I went through them, one by one, speaking their names: the men that Tsuto had killed at the glassworks. Some of their faces were already beginning to slip away from memory, the details blurring as I tried to recall them. Others I had known better, and their faces stood clearly in my mind’s eye, begging to be avenged. I considered drawing my dagger and slitting his throat right there and then, but decided against it. He should die by fire, and now that the immediate danger had passed, there was no justification for using fire inside the mill. It would have to wait.

The others slowly trickled back upstairs and shared their findings. There was nothing in the rest of the building, but as I’d been musing over how to kill Tsuto, Joanos had found quite a lot right where we were. The most promising lead was a book, written in cipher, which Joanos assured us he could crack, given enough time. The cipher was a combination of characters from the Elven, Draconic, and Infernal languages, he informed us. We weren’t sure what it said, but the cipher was complicated enough that it seemed a safe bet that it was concealing something big.

Steranis had been talking to the ravens caged on the roof, and piecing together the ravens limited knowledge with his own, he had managed to get some good information out of them. They were trained to fly to the shadow clock, an abandoned clock tower just outside of town, and deliver messages to a woman that Steranis was pretty sure was a lamia – a creature with top half of a woman and the body of a snake.

We all agreed that we couldn’t hide the body of a Justice for long, so we agreed to head straight to the Pediment building and turn ourselves in. With any luck, the ciphered book would provide the evidence we needed to indict Justice Ironbriar and clear our names.

Tenebis slung Ironbriar over his shoulder and started down the stairs. I struggled to pick up Tsuto and do the same. Physical strength, however, was something I lacked, and I wasn’t able to sling him over my shoulder like I’d have wanted. Domoki offered to carry him for me, and I had no doubt that he could, but that would interfere with my plan. I refused his help, and ended up half carrying, half dragging Tsuto down the stairs.

I hung back a bit as we left the mill. Dragging a body behind me provided an excellent excuse for walking a little slower than the others.

When the dust had cleared from the air, and a wind had picked up a little, it was time; I threw Tsuto to the ground beside me and poured out fire onto his body. Though he was unconscious, his reflexes activated with the sudden heat, and his body began to twitch as it burned up. I knew I should look away, but I didn’t, I couldn’t… I didn’t want to. His skin burned up first, shrivelling away to expose muscle and tendon and bone, and still he twitched. The flesh blackened and began giving way to ash, and finally his body convulsed one last time and was still. A shrewd smile spread across my lips. By the time the fire stopped flowing from my fingers, there was nothing left before me but a pile of ash.

I looked up to the see others surrounding me and looking on in horror. Asclepius was directly in front of me, and her eyes burned with an anger I had not yet seen in her.

“Do what your conscience requires of you;” I said. “I did what I had to do.”

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

FAQ

What is this?

This is a character journal from a playthrough of the Pathfinder Adventure Path "Rise of the Runelords". It contains spoilers (obviously) from Rise of the Runelords, but game mechanics are abstracted in favour of telling a narrative.

Where can I read more?

The full, novel length story can be read at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787326/

This story is 5 years old, why are you posting it to r/gametales now?

After a long hiatus due to having young children, I have more content coming soon! Over the next few weeks, I'll be posting excerpts from "Too Pretty to Die" to r/gametales in hopes of drumming up an audience before the next big installment of the story is posted.

Does this story have romance in it? Romance in RPGs is cringe.

Yes, this story has romance in it. The protagonist is a gay man and he does fall in love with another party member during the adventure. Everything is very "fade-to-black". If you think romance in RPGs is cringe, or you are a homophobe, this is probably not the story for you!

I hope you enjoy my story! If you're still reading, please comment below and let me know what you think! I love fan-mail and criticism alike!

It was the second morning since I’d quit my job, and I was beginning to think I could get used to sleeping in. It was not to be. I was awoken from my slumber by a loud knock at my bedroom door.

“I’m coming!” I yelled, as I crawled out of bed and threw on a robe. I opened to door to see Bethana, the Halfling woman whom Ameiko employed as a maid.

“What is it?” I asked, confused.

“It’s Ameiko. She’s gone. I think you’d better get your friends.”

The urgency in Bethana’s tone told me not to ask questions. I woke the others, and brought them down to the front room. Bethana was waiting.

“I woke up this morning and went down to the kitchen for tea,” she explained. “Ameiko wasn’t there. I was worried, because Ameiko is always there early, starting breakfast. I went to her room, and knocked. She didn’t answer. This was very unlike Ameiko, you understand. She never sleeps in. Against my better judgement, I opened the door and walked in. Ameiko wasn’t there, and her bed had not been slept in. Then I found this:”

She handed me a wrinkled piece of parchment. It was written in Tien. I glanced at the bottom of the page, where it was signed “Tsuto.”

“I translated it for you, on the other side.”

I turned it over to see Bethana’s neat handwriting, in Taldane.

Hello, sis!

I hope this letter finds you well, and with some free time on your hands, because we’ve got something of a problem. It’s to do with father. Seems that he might have had something to do with Sandpoint’s recent troubles with the goblins, and I didn’t want to bring the matter to the authorities because we both know he’d just weasel his way out of it. You’ve got some pull here in town, though. If you can meet me at the Glassworks at midnight tonight, maybe we can figure out how to make sure he faces the punishment he deserves. Knock twice and then three times more and then once more at the delivery entrance and I’ll let you in. In any case, I don’t have to impress upon you the delicate nature of this request. If news got out, you know these local rubes would assume that you and I were in on the whole thing too, don’t you? They’ve got no honor at all around these parts. I still don’t understand how you can stand to stay here. Anyway, don’t tell anyone about this. There are other complications as well, ones I’d rather talk to you in person about tonight. Don’t be late.

Tsuto

Tsuto was Ameiko’s half-brother. He was several years younger than her, and he was a half-elf. When Longiku had first laid eyes on the baby boy with the little pointed ears that his wife had birthed – the child that was supposed to be his – he had ripped the child from Atsuii’s arms and marched him straight down to the orphanage. There he left the boy on the front step, turned away, and never looked back. Atsuii was forbidden to see her son. Ameiko naturally heard the rumours about her brother, and soon she began to sneak down to the orphanage and visit Tsuto, bringing him food and stories. Six years ago, they’d had a terrible argument, and fallen out of contact. Ameiko had left town to become an adventurer, only coming back for her mother’s funeral a year later. There, Tsuto had accused Longiku of Atsuii’s murder, they’d had a screaming match, and Tsuto had left town for good. Ameiko stayed and started up the Rusty Dragon, which she’d been running ever since. Ameiko had tried to contact her brother a few times since, but she’d never been able to track him down.

Now, it seemed Tsuto was back in town. The meeting he’d suggested had been at midnight, and if he’d really just wanted to talk, she would have been back by now. Ameiko was in trouble, and it was time to mount a rescue.

I sketched out a map of the glassworks for the others. I pointed out all of the exits, and which way the doors opened. If we were going on a rescue mission, it was best we be prepared.

The sun was just rising over the trees to the East when we arrived at the glassworks. We tried the doors, and they were all locked. The curtains were drawn. None of us wanted to make too much noise – no need to alert those inside that we were coming – so we all stood aside as Joanos silenced his ferret, then picked the lock on the back door. With a soft click, the lock turned, and Joanos quietly opened the door and stepped aside. Tenebis went through first, and I followed him.

We were in the hallway, and from the main workroom, I heard giggling – not children, I feared, but goblin laugher. I nodded to Tenebis, and he barged through the door to the workroom. As I followed him in, I was met by a gruesome sight: human body parts lay scattered around the room; six goblins stood about, holding severed arms and legs, swinging them about, dipping them in vats of molten glass, and laughing; in the center of the room was Longiku, sitting on a chair, his body completely encased in thick, clear glass.

I flew into a rage. I was only dimly aware of my allies filing in behind me as I charged forward and started throwing fire left and right. The goblins mobbed me and began to hack at me with their short, stubby swords. My caution thrown to the wind, I had allowed myself to become surrounded, and the three goblins I was fighting began to push me slowly backward toward the furnace. I knew the furnace burned hot enough to cremate a body, and as I was pushed towards it, I thought of the irony of the fire sorcerer being burned to death. It would be fitting, I supposed. By now my back was up against the stone of the fireplace, and I could feel the heat through my clothes. Two goblins grabbed my legs and started to hoist me in.

Just then, an arrow sprouted between the eyes of the goblin on my right. It had passed right through his skull from behind. With the flash of a sword, the head of the goblin to my left departed from its shoulders. Tenebis was behind it. With only one goblin left, I summoned my power once again and threw one last blast of fire at it. It screamed, then crumpled to the ground, its skin blackened by the flames.

I stepped away from the furnace.

Ulrick was engaged in a firefight with a bow-armed goblin across the room from him. The tiger was snacking on the face of another. The final goblin was face to face with Joanos in a swordfight, and was nearly dead when Steranis snuck up behind him and thrust a dagger through his back.

With the goblins dead, I took a few moments to absorb what had happened.

The scattered limbs were those of my coworkers. Their bodies lay in pieces on the floor. I forced myself to look at each of their faces. As I laid eyes upon each one, I whispered their names, quietly, as in a prayer. They were all there; all eight of them. I turned my eyes to Longiku. He was immobile under the curtain of glass, but seemed otherwise unharmed. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t breathing. Somehow his skin had not been burned by the liquid glass. I turned to Asclepius.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance he could be alive under there, through some strange magic?”

Asclepius walked up to Longiku and inspected him. Then she turned back to me and shook her head, sadly. I went back to inspecting the room.

A trail of blood led out a door to the hallway. Excepting Longiku, the men had not been killed in this room, but rather dragged here, dead, and still bleeding. Some of their body parts had been dipped in glass, or had molten glass poured on them. In this case, the skin had blistered, and the glass had cooled too quickly, and cracked. It seemed the goblins had been trying to replicate the state that Longiku was in, but hadn’t a clue what they were doing.

I stood there silently for a few more moments, surveying the carnage. Then I kicked myself in the shin.

“Ameiko isn’t here,” I said, “We have to keep looking.”

I followed the blood trail out of the room, and the others followed in silence. It led out through the hallway, through the dining room, and into the sleeping quarters. My former coworkers had been killed in their beds before being dragged out there. They likely hadn’t even woken up.

There was no one else on the main floor of the glassworks, though the place had been thoroughly ransacked. We lined up by the stairs and prepared to storm the basement.

◊◊◊

Tenebis was the first through the door, followed by Steranis’ tiger. I was at the back, my magic drained by my near death in the first fight. I loaded my crossbow. The staircase was narrow, and we had to go down in single file. Tenebis turned the corner and ran the rest of the way down. Ares leapt after him. The rest of us pushed forward. When I got to the corner and looked around, I saw Tsuto fighting Tenebis in the middle of the hallway. A goblin bard stood singing behind him, and two other goblins were in front of him, already dead. Tenebis and Ares worked fast.

“Tsuto, you traitorous bastard!” I yelled.

“Take the half-elf alive,” I coldly instructed my allies. I fired my crossbow, and missed.

The bard was next to fall, riddled with arrows and bullets. Tsuto and Tenebis continued their swordfight. The hallway was narrow, and Joanos and Ares were having trouble getting any hits in past Tenebis. Domoki and Ulrick continued to shoot. Domoki had switched to blunt arrows to accommodate my request to take him alive. Tsuto seemed to be flagging, slowly. Finally, Tenebis judged the time was right. He feinted left, then quickly swung around to the right and hit Tsuto over the head with the flat of his blade. Tsuto crumpled to the ground.

Asclepius rushed over to stabilise him, and Joanos used some very complicated knots to tie him up.

“Gag him as well.” I requested.

“Why, is he a caster?” asked Asclepius.

“No, I just don’t want to hear his smarmy voice when he wakes up.”

Joanos chuckled, and complied.

I moved on down the hall. To my left was hallway that definitely wasn’t there last week. I pointed out this curiosity to the others, and made a note to investigate it later. I was looking for Ameiko, and I thought I might as well search the familiar part of the building first. The only rooms down here, excepting any that might be off the mysterious new hallway, were two storage rooms. I opened the door to the first one, and to my relief, Ameiko was there. She was tied to a chair and gagged, but she appeared unharmed. I rushed over to her and removed the gag.

“Did he hurt you?” I asked.

“No. I’m fine. Thank you for saving me.”

“It was mostly Tenebis,” I said.

“Did you kill my brother?” she asked.

“No. He’s alive; unconscious, but stable. The others will take him to the garrison.”

Untying her took some time, but when all the ropes were loosed, I helped her to her feet, and she seemed steady enough.

“Let’s get you home,” I said. I took her by the arm and led her back up the stairs. Domoki followed behind us. As we reached the top of the stairs, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder at the door to the work room. There were nine people in there that I would never see again.

“We’ll clean up in there,” said Domoki, “there’s no need for you to see that again. Take the lady home.”

“See what?” said Ameiko, looking over. There was still blood in the hallway. “Oh, Gods! How bad is it?”

“You don’t want to see,” I said, placing myself between her and the door to the workroom. “I’ll explain when we get home.”

Ameiko pushed past me and opened the door. She took two steps in and froze. Her eyes scanned over the carnage, silently, and came to rest on her father. She screamed. I rushed in after her and caught her as she sank to her knees, shaking. I heard footsteps running up the stairs. Asclepius stopped in the doorway. I guess she had heard Ameiko’s scream and worried that someone was hurt. I waved her off. Asclepius and Domoki moved down the hallway to give us some privacy as I held Ameiko’s slender, shaking frame in my arms. Ameiko pried her eyes away from Longiku and looked at me.

“The last thing I said to him was… Gods, I didn’t even say anything! I just hit him over the head with a frying pan!”

I nodded in understanding.

“The last thing I said to him was… hardly complementary, either. I believe it was something along the lines of ‘fuck you too, Longiku’.”

She forced a sad smile.

“I’m sure he deserved it,” she admitted.

“Yeah… he was a miserable old curmudgeon, but he was still your father. It’s ok to be sad. And it’s ok to still be angry too.”

She nodded, and placed a hand on my forearm as if to stand. I helped her back to her feet for the second time today. We walked back to the inn. Those we passed on the way saw from her face that something was gravely wrong, and they did not address us. When we got back to the Rusty Dragon, I took her straight to her room, and she didn’t argue.

“You were up all night, Ameiko. Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Ameiko closed her door behind her. I went down to the kitchen. We’d have to run the inn without Ameiko today, and Bethana couldn’t do it alone.

◊◊◊

The rest of the party got back to the inn a few hours later and briefed me on what they had found. The mysterious hallway had apparently always been there, but its entrance was hidden by a secret door in the stone wall. I thought back, and realised I had never really looked too carefully at any of the walls in the glassworks. There had been no reason to.

There were two rooms off the secret hallway. Both were storage rooms, and they were filled with counterfeit goods. There appeared to have been a smuggling operation going on right under my nose. In addition to the storage rooms, there was a tunnel leading off the secret hallway, to who-knows-where. The others had temporarily blocked it off, and said we could return tomorrow to investigate it.

They also showed me the goods they had pilfered off of Tsuto and the dead goblins. There was some nice stuff in there, but the thing that interested me the most was Tsuto’s journal. It was evidence, and might even give away his motives. I grabbed it and flipped to the back. A few pages from the end, there were several small hand drawn sketches of Sandpoint covered in arrows and symbols. One was circled. They were battle maps, and the chosen one depicted the goblin attack from last week. Tsuto had been involved in planning it. On the next page was scrawled in Varisian:

The raid went about as planned. Few Thistletop goblins perished, and we were able to secure Tobyn’s casket with ease while the rubes were distracted by the rest. I can’t wait until the real raid. This town deserves a burning, that’s for sure.

I turned the page again. More battle maps, these ones with more arrows than the last group. Some of the maps were scratched out, as if rejected. None were circled. They hadn’t yet decided on their plan for the next attack, but it clearly would be larger than the last. On the next page was written:

Ripnugget seems to favor the overwhelming land approach, but I don’t think it’s the best plan. We should get the quasit’s aid. Send her freaks up from below via the smuggling tunnel in my father’s Glassworks, and then invade from the river and from the Glassworks in smaller but more focused strikes. The rest except Bruthazmus agree, and I’m pretty sure the bugbear’s just being contrary to annoy me. My love’s too distracted with the lower chambers to make a decision. Says that once Malfeshnekor’s released and under her command, we won’t need to worry about being subtle. I hope she’s right.

“Who is Malfeshnekor?” I asked, looking at Joanos. He seemed to know a lot of things. This time, he simply shrugged.

“It sounds like a demon name, but I’ve never heard of him either,” said Asclepius.

Then I wondered who “my love” was, and I flipped back through the journal a bit looking for clues. Before the maps, interspersed among pages of text, were several sketches of a woman, mostly nude. In the last one, the woman’s hand had been replaced with a gnarled claw with six inch nails. The sketches were very well done, and she had a strikingly familiar face. I tried to remember where I had seen her before. After a moment, it clicked, and I said out loud:

“It’s Nualia.”

“Who?” asked Tenebis, who was standing behind my shoulder at this point.

“Nualia,” I repeated, “an Aasimar foundling that father Tobyn adopted. She supposedly died in the church fire.”

“How do you know it’s her?”

“She has a distinctive face.”

“Oh. I guess I wasn’t looking at her face,” admitted Tenebis. I chuckled.

I flipped forward again, past the battle maps and the last page of text I had read. The writing continued:

My love seems bent on going through with it—nothing I can say convinces her of her beauty. She remains obsessed with removing what she calls her ‘celestial taint’ and replacing it with her Mother’s grace. Burning her father’s remains at the Thistletop shrine seems to have started the transformation, but I can’t say her new hand is pleasing to me. Hopefully when she offers Sandpoint to Lamashtu’s fires, her new body won’t be as hideous. Maybe I’ll luck out. Succubae are demons too, aren’t they?

On the opposite page was another sketch. It was still Nualia, and she was still nude, but this time she was depicted far differently: both hands had been replaced with claws; a pair of bat-like wings sprouted from her shoulders; horns grew out of her temples; and her mouth opened in a cruel smile to show a set of sharp fangs.

Nualia was alive, and she was trying to turn herself into a demon.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

FAQ

What is this?

This is a character journal from a playthrough of the Pathfinder Adventure Path "Rise of the Runelords". It contains spoilers (obviously) from Rise of the Runelords, but game mechanics are abstracted in favour of telling a narrative.

Where can I read more?

The full, novel length story can be read at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787326/

This story is 5 years old, why are you posting it to r/gametales now?

After a long hiatus due to having young children, I have more content coming soon! Over the next few weeks, I'll be posting excerpts from "Too Pretty to Die" to r/gametales in hopes of drumming up an audience before the next big installment of the story is posted.

Does this story have romance in it? Romance in RPGs is cringe.

Yes, this story has romance in it. The protagonist is a gay man and he does fall in love with another party member during the adventure. Everything is very "fade-to-black". If you think romance in RPGs is cringe, or you are a homophobe, this is probably not the story for you!

I hope you enjoy my story! If you're still reading, please comment below and let me know what you think! I love fan-mail and criticism alike!

The bells of the new cathedral rang out a joyful tune as people milled about in the square below. It was the first day of autumn, and the swallowtail festival was in full swing. Musicians played, merchants hawked their goods, and the taverns had set up patios all around the square to feed the crowd. Children laughed and played in the streets.

The swallowtail festival was a religious holiday. Followers of Desna flocked to Sandpoint at this time of year. Today was the grand opening of the new Cathedral, and at dusk tonight, a wagon full of swallowtail butterflies, the holy symbol of Desna, would be released into the square. I wasn’t a religious man myself, but the festival was good for business, so I never complained.

Instead, I stood quietly in my open booth behind rows of fancy decanters, figurines, and jewellery. The sign above my booth read “Sandpoint Glassworks,” and my boss had made me wear a name tag that read “Hello, my name is Urhador” in both Taldane and Varisian. Most of the vendors in the other booths shouted out their pitches to the passersby, hoping to attract attention. But I had a more elegant way. As I passed my hands deftly over my wares, and whispered quietly in a language I did not know, sparks shot from my fingertips and illuminated the fine details of the glassware. Children and tourists were gathered round in awe as my sparks danced in and out of the coloured glass. The spark show was just a little bit of magic I had mastered to improve sales, and while the locals were used to my tricks, it was always a hit at the festival. As the crowd around me reached what I judged to be its maximum size, I decided it was time for the finale. As I raised my hands above my head, and my whispered incantation changed, a cone of searing flame shot out overhead. The audience blinked at the shear brightness. Just as quickly, the flames were gone, and the remaining sparks rained down over me and my goods. Applause followed, and a few tourists from the crowd came forward to buy some trinkets as the rest of the crowd dispersed. As money and goods changed hands, I noticed a peculiar looking couple standing off to the side, perhaps waiting to speak to me. The woman had silver-white hair, though she was young, and amber coloured eyes, and I thought she might be an Aasimar. I hadn’t seen an Aasimar in years. The man was – well – glowing. Even in daylight, his skin shone with an unnatural radiance rather like a jar of fireflies, or a shaded lantern. In all other ways, he looked rather like a half-elf, like me, and a particularly attractive one, at that. He had broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, delicately pointed ears, and golden hair made more striking by his literal glow. The woman was wearing cleric’s robes, and the man was wearing simple leather armour. He looked like he was ready for a fight, and that worried me a little. As my last few customers filtered away, the odd couple approached me. The woman spoke first:

“Fire-thrower?” she addressed me, as if she’d been searching for me. I wasn’t entirely surprised that she knew the meaning of my name, especially as she seemed to be travelling with a half-elf, but it still felt odd to have my name translated like that.

“Yes, how can I help you? Would you like to buy some fine glass wares? We have something for everyone. Perhaps some jewellery for the lady?” I said, switching into my regular pitch. Young men like the strange glowing one could always be persuaded to buy expensive things for their lady.

“No, thank you,” said the woman, “My name is Asclepius. This is Tenebis. I have been contacted by the Empyreal Lords and sent on a holy mission. A great evil is brewing is these parts, and I am to assemble the Seven who will fight it. You are the last of the Seven.” She pronounced “Seven” like it was a title, and not just a number.

“Am I now?” I said, trying to figure out what sort of con this was.

“I know it sounds far-fetched, but she is telling the truth,” said the man, speaking for the first time. “She comes on strong, but hear her out, please.”

I planned to. This story was far to interesting not to hear, even if it was a load of horse shit.

“Assuming you, and him, and me, where are the other four?” I asked.

“Over there,” she said, nodding sideways at a table on one of the tavern’s patios. I looked over to see who was there. There were indeed four other strange looking characters at the table. Nearest me was a very old, very wrinkled man with the distinctive blue skin of a Samsaran. He wore a robe of green, and by his side lay a magnificent tiger lapping at a bowl of water. Next was a small, pretty young man with pale skin, black hair, and the same unearthly amber eyes as Asclepius. He must be another Aasimar. He was taking apart some sort of firearm and laying the parts of it all over the table. Next to him was a short but muscular Oread, with skin like speckled grey stone. He sat cross-legged atop his chair, his eyes closed as if in meditation, and nursing a cup of tea. He wore baggy pants and no shirt. A bow and a quiver of arrows were slung over his right shoulder. He was well-built, with strong arms and broad shoulders, but his face was ugly as sin. Lastly, a middle aged Elf with thick, round glasses, sat there looking uncomfortable as a ferret chattered away on his shoulder. As I watched him, he picked up a glass of wine and downed it in one go.

“Splendid,” I said, “you have managed to round up an old man, a tinkerer, a simpleton, and a drunkard. At least the tiger, if it’s trained, will do us some good. We’re going to fight a great evil, are we?”

“Yes,” said Asclepius, seeming to miss or ignore my sarcasm. “I do not know the details. But we will know when it is time. Something will happen very soon to spur us to action.”

“Right then,” I said, noticing a potential customer waiting nearby, and trying to hurry this along, “you come get me when that happens. I have glass to sell.”

“We’ll see you in about… five minutes then!” said Asclepius, then turned and walked off toward the rest of the group, Tenebis in tow.

◊◊◊

Five minutes came and went, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. In fact, the whole day passed just as expected. At lunchtime, my boss told me to go enjoy the festivities for a while, but I politely declined, telling him there was a band of crazies about that I’d rather avoid. He chuckled, and let me stay. Longiku rarely laughed. Mostly, he acted like a crotchety old man, though he was only fifty. Occasionally, I found a way to tease him about it without arousing his ire, but mostly I stayed out of his way and let him be grumpy. I thought of Longiku more as an asshole little brother than as a boss, since I’d been apprenticed to his family since before he was born.

Evening came, and Mayor Deverin and Father Zantus took the stage. They made their usual speeches, a soon it was time for the butterfly release. Even I looked forward to this part. I did not worship Desna, but the butterflies clouding the evening sky was always a sight to behold. Some musicians picked up a lively tune, and father Zantus walked over to the covered wagon.

A scream pierced the air. It came from outside the square.

Silence.

Then, singing…

“Goblins chew and goblins bite. Goblins cut and goblins fight. Stab the dog and cut the horse, goblins eat and take by force!

Goblins race and goblins jump goblins slash and goblins bump. Burn the skin and mash the head, goblins here and you be dead!

Chase the baby, catch the pup. Bonk the head to shut it up. Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed, we be goblins! You be food!”

I swore under my breath as I dropped the decanter I was holding and prepared to fight.

“It’s starting,” said a voice behind me. I whirled around. It was Asclepius. This was no time to argue. I nodded to her and we moved off toward the sound of the goblin song together.

◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊

FAQ

What is this?

This is a character journal from a playthrough of the Pathfinder Adventure Path "Rise of the Runelords". It contains spoilers (obviously) from Rise of the Runelords, but game mechanics are abstracted in favour of telling a narrative.

Where can I read more?

The full, novel length story can be read at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787326/

This story is 5 years old, why are you posting it to r/gametales now?

After a long hiatus due to having young children, I have more content coming soon! Over the next few weeks, I'll be posting excerpts from "Too Pretty to Die" to r/gametales in hopes of drumming up an audience before the next big installment of the story is posted.

Does this story have romance in it? Romance in RPGs is cringe.

Yes, this story has romance in it. The protagonist is a gay man and he does fall in love with another party member during the adventure. Everything is very "fade-to-black". If you think romance in RPGs is cringe, or you are a homophobe, this is probably not the story for you!

I hope you enjoy my story! If you're still reading, please comment below and let me know what you think! I love fan-mail and criticism alike!

My boss asked for ideas for team building activities members of the department could be involved in outside of work. Nothing official. Just casual stuff to build some social ties outside of the office. I made the suggestion of a DnD campaign. And to my shock, people actually wanted to do it. So I put together a short campaign based on the movie "John Carpenter's The Thing" with a Mimic having invaded a Dwarf mine and the players being sent to find out what happened and restore the mine to functioning.

Well the players get to the mine, and start exploring. They encounter a lone dwarf wielding a broken shovel demanding they prove who they are. I made him crippled and super low-power such that even level 1 characters should be at near to no risk from him (provided they could roll well enough to grab him).

Well after 3 rounds of him attempting to "attack" them and failing, and of the players trying to pin him down... and failing to do so... one of the players set him on fire while one of the other players finally grabbed him, and then realized he was on fire so attempt to put him out and when that didn't work declared that they were going to throw him out of the cave into the lake.

I confirmed that they wanted to throw him into the lake that was outside the cave, which they did.

They then rolled a nat-20 for throwing him. So I proceed to narrate how they just threw this flaming dwarf out of the cave, off the end of the cliff and he went sailing down roughly 100 feet into the lake, as the player says "Oh right, we had to climb up. Um... is he alive?"

"He was starved, insane with paranoia, set on fire and then thrown from roughly 10 stories up into a lake. No. He is not alive."

Posting the ongoing story of my current campaign in parts due to a severe case of DM Cabin Fever. I've done a lot of work to integrate my players' backstories into the lore of Icewind Dale and I'm dying to share with someone. So please enjoy the below :D

===

It's December 2022 and my friends are talking about D&D with some new peeps they met online. I know what they're up to, but I'm weak to it... I cave and decide to don the Forever DM cap once more. I create a virtual campaign and give them the sources. "It's Rime Time guys. Go create me four level one characters."

Two weeks later and I receive the sheets, all in all, four very colourful characters.

===

The Cast

Elvina Mistera — Aasimar Fighter:

Daughter of a forgotten GodKing and GodQueen, Elvina's path in life is punctuated by the chilling thrust of a sword through her back. With her last sight the horrified visage of her sister, Elvina breathes her last and dies.

Beep-... Bee̵̡̙̟̍̈́̌̆p̶̛͚̺̣͇͖̠̃̇̕-... B̴̢̧͎͓͕̲̫̯͍̉͒͗͐́̀̀́̓̂̈́̌̋ę̴͋̋̉ȅ̶̗̓p̸̨̛̮̘̬͙̭̩̹̑͗̔͆́̆̉̆̆͐̉͌͝.

A choked gasp hurls a torrent of viscous cyan liquid as Elvina's eyes snap open. Wide eyes shooting around a darkened room, Elvina wrestles with horror and the distant pain in her chest as memories of her supposed death merge with the present. Tearing a pipe from her throat, Elvina gags before ripping herself out of a machine constructed from a dark metal alloy.

Minutes tick by as the synapses fire, her mind whirring back into activity as she climbs to her feet.

On a table nearby? A set of armour, a shield bearing her family's heraldry, as well as an unpleasantly memorable longsword.

Palming the dull pain in her chest that throbbed at the sight of the sword, Elvina stumbles forth. Equipped and ready for her journey, Elvina pulls a lever inviting a bone-chilling cold into the facility that sustained her. The land? Not a sight familiar from the homeland she remembered. Just cold white winter....

---

Jüles Takaperä — Halfling Rogue

Jules' fingers drummed energetically on the sill as her eyes enervated, peering out of her grandmother's window at the town she grew up in. Her father was a non-character, not even staying for her birth. Her mother? Well her name grinned up at her from a crumpled letter she found in her grandmother's desk.

The ink was faded and the letters near illegibly scribbled an address with blotches peppering the text like the blood that speckled in her grandmother's cough. Talviki Takeperä; 62 East Rind Street; Bryn Shander; Icewind Dale.

Jules could hear her grandmother coughing distantly upstairs, the recent wave of sickness blooming throughout the small village, confining the old kindly lady that raised her, to her bed.

Clenching her tiny fist around the note, Jules looked back up the stairs, hardening her heart as she stole into the savings her grandma had hidden in a loose board under the stairs. She wouldn't notice if Jules took a small handful of the near two hundred glimmering faces that gleamed up at her, right?

The young halfling waltzed out the house with the promise to bring back a pie, one-hundred and fifty golden royals and a leaden heart heavier. Hailing the caravan that visited every few months, Jules never looked back as the caravan slowly rocked up the small dirt trail, heading north.

"Bryn Shander huh... Just wait mother... I'll find you."

---

Erinyes Hawat — Shadar-Kai Druid:

Ranking lieutenant within the Raven Queen's guard. Erinyes was content serving her goddess, guarding the Fortress of Memories from those that would seek to harm her lady. Not that many had... Erinyes grew curious about the world outside the sprawling fortress of lost dreams. Agents of her goddess would often bring back relics forgotten by time itself. And her? She roamed the outer walls and sharpened her infinitely peerless abilities in preparation for... what?

Begging off the service to any goddess wasn't simple or wise. But her goddess released her just like that. With one caveat of course. The promise to bring back one timeworn relic, when requested.

As such, Erinyes enjoyed her life, exploring the vast and endless multiverse whilst waiting every day for a letter bearing a familiar feather. Nothing.

It wasn't until her and her latest companion, a young boy named Hirudo stumbled onto the sore end of a fearsome wizard and were separated to lands unknown that her goddess' command found her. "Head North little chick, and pluck for me the wretched soul of a girl killed by her father."

How had she found her? Erinyes knew better than to ask, but head north she did. Up into a land where even the sun didn't dare venture... it was good she was born in the dark.

---

Hirudo Woodramble — Biological Weapon:

Before talking about Hirudo, we must first talk about the one who created him. Estelle Woodramble. A name that murmured discord in the Feywild. Seeking a weapon that could shatter civilisations, Estelle pooled together aeons of meticulously curated resources and a lifetime of skill and knowledge in curse magic to forge the perfect weapon. Hirudo.

The swamp hag cackled as she rent space asunder, poking Hirudo through it into the greater multiverse and watched, ecstatic at the grief that would ensue. Hirudo obliged, a hunger for mana and an absence of anyone willing to teach him how to control it sustaining his dark desires to tear and consume.

One anomaly however was Erinyes, a wayward Shadar Kai trying to find purpose in her life. Hirudo felt his monstrous heart resonate with that, following the peculiar elf around as he took the occasional night away to devour a misbegotten mage or a child or two.

It was on one of his midnight traipses that Erinyes discovered the horrifying truth. The sight of a wizardling's feet sliding down his elongated maw. She'd seen worse than that in the lost memories that floated aimlessly around the fortress of her goddess... but the wizardling's uncle sure hadn't.

Somehow managing to counter the enraged mage's spell, space was torn asunder as Hirudo was separated from her in the astral before both were whipped back towards a random plane by whatever remnant mana she could structure from the wreckage of the spell, and unfortunately, Hirudo.

Hirudo crunched his way through seven wizards before an iota of clarity was restored, his form shifting under his mis-control as Channis's gauntleted fist shattered his jaw and made his vision bleed green....

"Commander Markham! We've subdued the doppel... this one was powerful."

"And yet, before the blank antlers, it will die like the rest. Strip it and bind it well. Let's see if the ice will freeze that sucker's form."

The last thing Hirudo could recall as his limbs were bound and tied hard to the post behind him was the mirthless look of the black bitch that ordered his death. And a supremely powerful energy welling up within him... begging to blow.

===

The Beginning

Rowan wasn't particularly fond of picking up the boy that walked out of a blizzard. The white haired-green eyed son rubbed off wrong on years of intuition surviving the sword coast's deadliest roads. Turns out the boy wouldn't be his problem for long, a blizzard besetting him and his caravan upon stumbling across the wreckage of a carriage.

The boy tore forth, first one into the find, much to Rowan's chagrin. He could hardly yank the boy back hard enough before seeing the surprising sight of four occupants, unharmed and dressed in nothing but their underwear as the sweltering heat of enchanted sun runes kept the dale's fiercest winds at bay.

Melvin, the leader, had introduced himself after donning a robe. Hailing from the city of sails, the quartet were clearly powerful as they joined the caravan. The blizzard seemed indignant, piling snow before their beasts and making the road nigh on unpassable.

The trip to Bryn Shander was arduous enough, and Rowan couldn't believe the things crawling out of the blizzard. He couldn't hold back his grin as what was recounted to him as ghostly hands of ice tore Hirudo and stole him away from the group. At least he wasn't his problem anymore.

Once the blizzard had cleared, Rowan detained a group of rowdy passengers who had decided to try and steal the caravan leader Rorick's curio, a bottle of boundless coffee. The fools. The three girls looked pitiful as Rowan had them tied to the carriages by rope and dragged along. At least attempt petty theft whilst he wasn't looking for gods' sakes.

What awaited their caravan as it continued north wasn't the bustling trade capital of the north however. It was the remains of a smouldering crater, green mist batting back the snow as it pooled at the bottom. Thankfully, the hardy people of the north had survived... somewhat. A small refugee camp already forming on the side of the crater.

Rowan sighed as they guided their caravan towards the town's makeshift palisade. Hopefully they would let them in...

===

And that was the end of the first session. :)

All of the character prologues were proposed by me after receiving my players' backstories to hook them into the lore.

It's my first time recounting the story of our campaign like this. I'm not sure if I should recount it with all of my reasoning and ideas explained? That's what I was hoping for after all because I've got all of these amazing ideas and narrative swings I want to share and nobody to talk to with about it.

Or, should I tell it piecemeal like this and let you guys find out for yourself as the story plods along?

​

Let me know ;)

​

Leafy Out— *Drops mic and walks off stage*.

We have just released Episode 37:

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5 Torches Deep Actual Play - Episode 37 - That Seems a bit Cheap

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It's been a while since the last episode, life, work, kids getting in the way, finally found time to edit it.

​

The party have released a alchemical grenade at the large group of lizardmen and we are joining the party in the aftermath of this explosion...

​

Can be found here: https://youtu.be/JvOB0INt05s

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Or here on Facebook: https://fb.watch/pHNKHXVZJH/

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An Audio only version of the recording can be found here: https://www.podbean.com/ew/pb-qz3az-1556f78

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Hope you enjoy!

​

On a another note Gareth our GM has released his own game on the steam platform 'WEB OR DEAD!' is a fun little spider game that is at a great price, please check it out here:

https://store.steampowered.com/app/2230630/Web_or_Dead/

​

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#rpg #dnd #dnd5e #tabletop #ttrpg #OSR #OldSchoolRenaissance #actualplay #podcast #fivetorchesdeep

Super Mario Bros. Lost Levels (All Stars ver.) is actually really fun!! Or at least that's what I think. I feel like this game has the impression that it's a cheap and unfair rage game. It does have times where it can be a bit trolly but i feel like it's not often enough to warrant calling the entire game cheap. I think most of the times it's actually fair and each level ramps up i difficulty naturally. Do you agree that it's a bit of a misunderstood gem? Or do you think it's just an unfun rage game?

I made a video where I talked about what I think makes it fun. I include a complete break down of a fairly difficult level to demonstrate what I'm talking about.

https://youtu.be/S6yAbNcX85w