The Asylum Tapes (06)

19 Jul
The Asylum Tapes (06)

Dramatis Personae

The Party

The Black Phoenix Gang

  • Walter Black – Oathborn Soldier
  • Vice Black – Slothborn Soldier
  • Kheign Black – Fearborn Head of Security
  • Archie Black – Oathborn President of Gang
  • Flinch Black – Shadowborn Dealer
  • Violet Black – Warborn Poisoner

The NPCs

  • Ghost – A pit bull
  • The Ratchet – A security force in West Metal
  • The Tinkers – A street gang in West Metal
  • Smelly Sally – A hedge witch
  • The Hellraisers – A street gang in Bogwall
  • The One and a Half – A street gang
  • The Helltrain – a transportation mode

Setup Notes

Our player, Mike, who plays Flinch, is leaving our group after today’s session. I am very saddened by this news. Mike is a great dude and I think will make a helluva D&D player, and we were all sorry to see him leave at the end. I wish him well, and he said he’ll drop in to read these recaps now, so you may see him in the comments. He’s agreed to leave Flinch behind for my mate Pete to pick up and continue with, so we’ll see how Flinch 2.0 goes πŸ™‚

I didn’t do anything for this campaign, as I still had a ton of stuff written up from the last session.


  • 22nd Grumbles, Shunday

We left our murderous adventurers shacked up in the houses of the six neighbors they unceremoniously murdered for a safe place to rest. You may remember Archie had a run-in with a Jumble creature called a Hhhelll Junkie, and now had a vampiric thirst, which he indulged upon the West Metalian researcher he had killed before he went to sleep. I said he felt nauseous and a bit shaky, but he healed up a bit, and I said he wanted to feed again, sometime today.

The party meets up in the street and they debate about what they should do before deciding to climb a nearby tall-ish building and see if they can get their bearings. They looked around and I said that they could see the smear of Bogwall off to the south, with an enormous gothic shape dominating the center, the details lost in pollution. To their West was the Great City Wall – 40 stories high, 200 feet thick and impossible to climb. North were the low-lying rowhouses of Trenchtown, dominated by the Temple of Caina – the slavery deity. East was more Metal. I said they were maybe 3 miles from the Southern border of West Metal, where it meets Bogwall. Their map said the abandoned rail yard was beyond Bogwall, so they agreed to head south.

They are a few hundred meters away when 2 drones come flying around a corner behind them – they are tiny mechs with sensors and flight about as fast as a person walking. The drones spotted them, and they took off. They cut into some alleyways and wanted to climb a building to get above the drones (yeah, I didn’t get that logic either, but hey). Trouble is Kheign is still very weak from his fight with the Shadows, and his current Strength score is 6, which meant he would need help climbing. They tried at first but Kheign rolled a 1, and ended up with a 4 total, I think, so he and Archie decided to kick in a door and get inside and use the stairs to get to the roof. Violet hung back to see if the drones were following and they were, so the rest of the party booked it across the street and into an alleyway and hid. We are now in a party split.

The drones come flying into view at a three-way crossroads. The party is hidden just up the street from the crossroads and the building that Kheign and Archie are in abuts the junction. The drones split up – one going South, away from the party, and one going North, towards Violet’s hidden position. She takes off and tells Vice, Flinch and Walter that they need to go, now. They zig-zag South through alleyways and end up South of the three-way crossroads. No drones are in sight. I jump back to Archie and Kheign and they have found their way to the roof, finally and end up murdering a researcher for his key to open the last door. Archie feeds on him. They also steal some vials on the victim’s table. Concoctions of some sort. Archie takes 2 to give to Violet later, since she is really into the whole “alternate ranged weapon” thing (which is super cool for me, cause its really fun to give her stuff to feed that approach – I said one was a saline solution and the other was a strong acid).

I jump back to the others. They dash across the street and begin climbing a building that also abuts the junction, and is directly South of the building where Archie and Kheign just reached the roof. There is no sign of the drones. They signal to one another and Archie and Kheign end up turning around and going straight down again, across the road, into the new building and onto the roof. Meanwhile the others have seen new activity in the street to the North, where they murdered the six neighbors.

There are two more drones. They begin scanning the building where the party had left their victims. Starting at the top of the building, the drones moved precisely, checking each window for a few seconds before moving on. They moved down the building systematically, row by row, and the party watched this for a minute. Then a large upright mech walked around the corner with a group of men dressed in a modified form of Gnomish Workman’s Leathers. [NOTEI couldn’t find a direct picture link so this is a pdf link to the AD&D Arms and Equipment Guide – the leathers are pictured on page 29]

These are the Ratchet, the investigatory/security personnel for the Spark, the council that rules this district. The Ratchet quickly cordons off the area and marks it as a crime scene. One of the previous drones returns and it is handled by one of the Ratchet, who has now evidence of the party fleeing the scene.

The party deduces, correctly, that they should get the fuck out of there, and fast, when I decided to throw in some drama in the form of another street gang – the Tinkers. They start giving verbal abuse to the Ratchet and it starts to get heated, although the party cannot make out what is being said, they can clearly see the body language and decide to escalate the situation to give themselves a distraction in which to escape the area. Smart. Flinch throws an arrow into the Ratchet and misses his target, but the action still has the desired effect and suddenly the Tinkers and the Ratchet are going at it with homemade weapons of all kinds. The party watches for a minute and then books it South, knowing the edge of the district isn’t far away.


After another hours travel the party finds themselves on a highway, finally. The traffic is thick with pedestrians and vehicles and they breathe a sigh of relief to have escaped West Metal more or less intact (Kheign’s sexchange notwithstanding, nor Vice or Flinch’s racial change). The district of Bogwall is on the other side of the highway, and I tell them that it looks much like Crud, their home district, with lots of run-down single-story buildings, however 70% of these are abandoned and crumbling. Dominating the skyline is the baroque outline of a massive temple dedicated to Bahklah – the deity of Pain, Suffering and Despair.

Oh goody, they said.

They talked about grabbing a jitney and agreed to maybe take the highway around Bogwall and try and get to the rail yard that way. So they flagged down one and they ask the quickest way to Crud. Driver smiles and says he’s never heard of it, but he can take them to Bogwall easy enough. The party laughs and looks confused. But aren’t we in Bogwall? they ask. Nah, mate. You’re in Fishtown.

The party is really confused now. I tell them that the area they are in looks different now. The Bahklah temple is nowhere to be seen, nor is the endless chimneyscape of West Metal. They asked where they were. The driver said, “East Muckamuck” and again the scenery changed. I did this to them about 6 times, until they were just completely overwhelmed with confusion and Walter was starting to break, mentally. They argued among themselves for a minute and someone said, “We’re in the Jumble. We have to be.”

And its true. They were. They keep stumbling into the Jumble because every time they kill someone (or anyone kills someone anywhere in the city) there is a chance that they wander into the Jumble. Its very broken-ness is fed with violence and death. If this were any other city, the Jumble would have shrunk and disappeared long ago – the karmic pairing of life and tenderness far outweighing the violence and death that it needs to perpetuate its busted mathematics. So every time the party kills someone, the Jumble inches a bit closer. Or leaps πŸ™‚

They haven’t figured this out yet and I’m not sure if they ever will. Its not obvious. But it doesn’t need to be. Not everything is a problem that can be solved (or even understood, such is the mystery of existence – and DM’ing).

So I have to ramp up the crazy. They are stressed out now. Its time to increase the pressure, not reduce it. I said that the scenes and call-response (“Where are we?”, “You’re in X”) were coming rapid-fire now, and suddenly Umbruk-the-Thorn appears as a giant, holding Archie in his hand and he roars, “WHERE. IS. MY. TRIBUTE?!”, and suddenly the face of Ghost appears and says, in a booming voice, “WOOF!” and suddenly reality shatters like a pane of glass and they find themselves back in the same street, outside of West Metal and Bogwall, with the jitney driver become annoyed at their slack-jawed staring-in-silence and driving off, as they regain their senses.

They explode into conversation and there’s lots of chatter about the Gauntlet and what to do next, and the Jumble, and WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED. I sat back and let them chatter. Let them speculate. Its all RP in the end.


They got off the street and headed into the depressing, crumbling streets of Bogwall. Most of the population were homeless and marked with crude blade tattoos on arms, legs and faces. Some had each finger and toe tattooed prison-style, and everyone looked hungry, sick and desperate, but the party were well-armed with a dizzying array of weird and cruel looking weapons and were left unharmed. Night was falling and so they traipsed into a ruin that was mostly intact, and when they did the squatters there all fled upstairs, leaving the party alone on the ground floor.

They camped and talked about their wounds, their plans, and why Archie kept slipping off and not telling anyone, like he did just now. This time, though, Flinch follows him and sees him kill and drink a sleeping vagrant upstairs. Flinch creeps back and keeps his mouth shut for the moment. Walter is already suspicious as hell and we have a long meta-conversation about Archie always being covered in blood and he and Archie have this really tender scene where Walt is showing a lot of concern for his brother who is clearly lying about the people he’s killing. Archie comes up with some really funny/lame excuses about the blood and thing finally blow up when Flinch spills the beans and says he saw him drinking blood. Walter flips his shit. Makes Archie swear to stop. Said it over and over and was really distraught. Archie finally relents and says “I promise to stop drinking blood.” And after having to repeat it a few times, Walter accepts this and there’s some reconciliation.

Well I wasn’t going to let that energy just bleed off into entropy, so I said that there was suddenly this uproar of hundreds of voices from down the street, crying out as if in agony. The party all ran to the windows and I said that down the street, moving North, were a large group of red-robed clerics carrying white blades. One of them was carrying a large glass orb with him, and it was resonating with the wailing like one of those plasma globes. As they moved up the street, more of the surrounding buildings’ occupants started to howl in agony. They finally neared the party’s building and the party decided to do as the rest of them were doing and they screamed and wailed with the other squatters. They saw the contingent of The Holy Shriek pass them by, and the globe was filled with more light and energy than before. This is the Night of the Shrieks and while I didn’t tell them that, they sort of figured out what the deal was and were happy to not interfere (for a change!)

  • 23rd Grumbles, Muckday

In the morning they pushed on, but Archie fed again before they did, and his thirst was getting worse, and his need to feed was becoming more insistent. He was becoming something else, something otherworldly and he didn’t care. In fact, he seemed to relish it and didn’t fight it at all. This was going to come to a head soon. Next session I think. We’ll see.

I described the Bahklah temple as being monstrous, dominating the district, the size of a large sports arena, and hellishly baroque. They had to go around the thing in a large arc to the East and South. This was going to take awhile, and I was worried they were going to stir up a lot of crap in a place that loves suffering and watching people die. This group hasn’t exactly been known for its restraint. But they went stealthy and the dice reflected that. I only rolled one encounter.

They were challenged by a street gang, The Hellraisers, a group armed with torture implements and covered in flesh-piercings, scarification and body-modification. There was a fight that lasted maybe 8 rounds. Flinch does break his bow, however, on a fumble. I said Kheign could scavenge enough parts to make a cestus for himself, which he has been wanting forever, and enough “scrap” to create half of another one. They also grabbed some barbed whips that the gang was using. Vice was funny, plucking the razor blades that the gang had embedded in their skin like some horrific jewelry/shock treatment. Violet chucked one of the concoctions given to her by Archie and it turned out to be a strong acid, and dissolved some poor fucker’s head down to the stub. It was a scrum that they could have avoided.

The party was already banged up and this didn’t help, but this gang was a bunch of kids for the most part and were put down without too much trouble. The party did get pretty hurt though, no one about 1/4 max HP and they talked about finding a hedge witch to buy some healing bread or something. The snagged an orphan and gave him a dose of whiteleaf to point them towards one. He told them about Smelly Sally’s and pointed them towards her place, only a few streets over. Vice, Violet and Walter decide to visit the witch. Flinch asks the kid where he can buy a bow, and the kid shows him, Walter and Kheign. We are now in a party split.

Half the crew (dubbed VVW hereafter) dips over a few streets, following the kid’s instructions and rolls up on Smelly Sally’s abode. I rolled to see if she was home, and she wasn’t. The party enters the yard, unseen, as Jane’s familiars were all killed a few months back (or so I decided at the last minute). They knock. No answer. They kick the door open. Naturally.

Witches’ huts. Sigh. I mean they are super cool and you can do anything you want with them if you have the visual references to go on, and I don’t mind mindpainting them, but its the interesting, lootable bits that are sometimes a struggle to keep unique and slightly dangerous, as befitting the setting (and owner). They split up, each taking a section of room according to my description:

The house is small, cramped even, and a wooden plank table is crammed in one corner, covered with tools, bits of animals, pots, mugs, and other detritus. In the opposite corner is a crude wooden bed with some filthy blankets atop them. There is a wooden chest next to it, and next to that is a large drying rack hanging from the ceiling, and its mostly bare, with only some common herbs dangling by twine. There is no light except from the doorway.

Violet beelines for the table, Vice checks the chest for traps, and notices a trapdoor underneath the bed, while determining the chest is unlocked and untrapped. Walter watches everyone’s back from the doorway. Vice checks the chest first, and finds personal items of a mundane nature and a carved wooden box about the size of a thick paperback novel. Its locked and trapped with a poison needle. Vice easily disarms it and gives the needle and the box to Violet, who is busily wrapping up 4 loaves of healing bread and 2 dark loaves of bread of a kind they’ve not seen before (wanted to mix it up – decided this bread nullifies poisons and venoms), and a few potions (of unknown power as of yet).

Violet and Walter watch Vice slide the bed out of the way and open the unlocked, untrapped trapdoor. The trapdoor is large, the size of the bed, and when he opens it I realized that I suddenly had a reason that this place was unwatched, unlocked, unguarded. Because no one would dare invade this place so brazenly, and at that moment I had the witch return via Dimension Door (or a witchy facsimile – maybe “Long Step”, or some form of Shadow Walk) and attack Violet from behind with a club made from a human femur and a raptor’s beak, witched to cause poison damage.

The party goes apeshit and Violet nearly goes down but Walter, usually the sensible one, doesn’t like his sister being attacked and puts such a hurting on the witch that she flees to a demi-plane to heal and regroup. I described this as her body and skin collapsing into a floppy heap on the floor, like some fleshy puddle. Vice returned to the trapdoor. I said there were 2 large leather sacks, each tied with twine and ribbon and threaded through with feathers and small bones. He lifted them out. I said they were heavy, maybe 35kg (77 lbs) each. They were each filled with something that could be equated, I said, to a large trash bag that’s 2/3 full of damp leaves and soil, and tied up at the top, leaving a small “handle” of bag material. Vice said he was going to slice the bindings and take a look.

Oh yes.

I knew that the protection on the bag was not abjuration – defense and protection, no. I went with divination, understanding in a flash that whatever was in this bag (and I still hadn’t decided) was so powerful that anyone tampering with it was going to send an alarm/message to a series of very powerful beings who have a keen interest in them. I still zapped him with an electrical glyph for 8 pts of damage. In his depleted state, this hurt. He looked inside. I had to decide the contents.

I’m in Galron.

  • Caveat for this next part – if child stuff bothers you, please skip over the italicized section, below.

I said that inside the first bag was the curled up preserved body of a child of 10, a boy – shellacked like a piece of furniture. In the other was the same, but a 10-year old girl.

VVW looked wide-eyed at each other, shut the bags, and Vice said he was taking them with them.

Oh man. I didn’t really expect that. But I said, “Ok, they are heavy but you can manage both if you sling them over your shoulders.”

They now have what I will be calling The Totems and they took them back to the rendezvous.

Meanwhile, the other half of the crew (dubbed FKA hereafter) goes with the orphan to a man he says will be able to sell Flinch a bow. They arrive and a huge tattooed Painborn man steps out from behind a filthy blanket-door and stands with his arms crossed and points his chin at the kid and says, “Who the fuck is this then?”

“Men to buy a bow.”, the kid says. The man scowls. Sees they are not of the Faith. Gives them some verbal guff, but once he sees their coin, he sells them the bow Flinch wants and overcharges them. Flinch pays up anyway. This didn’t take long at all and they spent awhile waiting around for VVW to return, but once they do, and the tale of the dead witch and the new treasure is passed along, there are no hard feelings. Violet still hasn’t opened the small box. Just making sure I don’t drop that thread πŸ™‚ They pass the bread around and they eat some of the dark loaves, and Violet eats some too, and her poisoned system slowly purges, much to her relief. They are pretty healed up now after the feast, and they are anxious to complete the final leg out of Bogwall and towards the train.

They set off South with the sun going down.


As the sun is setting they pass through the last streets of Bogwall and out into a large open space that used to be the rail terminus for this part of the city, complete with roundhouse (although demolished now, the turntable is still there and it works), tower and crane, a few warehouses and some old scrap cars rusting on their sides out in the scrub.

I rolled prior to this to see if the train would be here. I gave it a 5% chance, seeing as how large the city is, and I tossed a d100 and rolled a goddamn 03. Sonuvabitch.

Thankfully I had some idea of what the train actually was, or I would have been fucked. So a bit of exposition for you, dear reader, and then onto my description of the area to the party.

So there is an extensive rail line in Galron, in addition to a network of canals (now dry) that I figured would have been more than necessary to service a city as gargantuan as this place. But all that good stuff got destroyed in one of the many city wars and now there was only one train left. It had been through the Jumble dozens of times (maybe hundreds) and was constantly being taken over by various gangs who would use it to terrorize the populace, party on it, and generally go joyriding. The Helltrain, I figured I’d call it, because I knew that I wanted a train car on it that was a portal to the Nine Hells. There were going to be lots of different kinds of train cars and I didn’t exactly know all of them, but I had ideas for a few, and I’ll get to that in the party section that’s coming up. So the Helltrain was going to be a massive prize for anyone who could take it, and keep it. The party were talking about hijacking it and using it to get back to Crud, or maybe sneaking on board and hitching a ride in hiding. I digress. I knew the train was never going to take them straight to Crud. Nothing in Galron works like that. There are no straight lines. They still hadn’t learned to work with the city, they were still working against it, and that was a source of a lot of their characters’ misery. Anyway. I described the area.

*There is a large open field before you, maybe the size of 5 or 6 empty city blocks, and at the far end is a series of buildings and you can see a train engine and a string of cars!

Cue the cheering

I described the warehouses as large buildings, a 3-story wooden tower with a cargo crane, and the turntable-sans-roundhouse.

Scattered all around the train yard are over a dozen bonfires, and there are a huge number of people having a party here – drinking, fucking, singing, fighting, celebrating some unknown cause. Some are atop the train itself, armed with crossbows, and some are on the abandoned buildings, keeping watch. Stopping to count, you number around 80 individuals. They all seem to be wearing the same attire – black pants, black boots, and black tunics with the number 1.5 stitched on the front in white thread.

This got their attention, fast. Now we had a challenge on our hands. What would the party do? First, they peppered me with questions, as protocol demands.

They rolled average on a local knowledge check and learned that this gang was called, not surprisingly, “The One-and-a-Half” and they were mostly associated with Fishtown. There was more to this gang than meets the eye, however, which they were about to find out shortly.

They asked about distances from them to the party and I said it was 200-300 meters (220-320 ft), but it was getting dark rapidly. They asked next about the train itself. Showtime.

I quickly held up my “DM Loading…” notecard while I jotted down 6 rail cars. I’ll add my verbal descriptions to the party to the list:

  • Animal Skulls – This car is covered in every conceivable animal skull known to science and plenty that aren’t.
  • Dead Bodies – This car is plastered with bodies of humans, gnomes, dwarves and elves bolted to the car itself in a mish-mash of directions.
  • Flames and Bones – This car is covered with human bones and painted with flames like a hot rod.
  • Saloon Car – This car looks brand new, as if it rolled off the showroom floor, and appears like a saloon car from the 1860s in America.
  • Jumble Car – This car is filled with water and fish and the walls, doors, and windows are transparent.
  • Engine – Locked – This hulking machine is black iron and is covered with a bristling array of spikes, blades, cruel-looking hooks, and serrated spines in addition to 3 small smokestacks. You cannot see the front of the engine, and its idling and putting out a great quantity of steam.

Right. Well. That got them talking again. They discussed among themselves some things, while I excused myself for a smoke. When I came back, they had a plan.

Vice has a Ring of Invisibility with 2 charges remaining. He didn’t know how long the effect would last (1 hour for those keeping score), but knew that if he didn’t attack anyone, he would be invisible, as proven by the last usage. He would go and scout the train and see if he could get into the engine. The party would wait for him and hope their nude, necrophiliac, impulsive, Slothborn brother would not make things worse.

He surprised us all.

First, he checked the crowd with the magic phoropter on the Infravision setting. I think he did this to see if anyone was hiding, but he got a surprise. About 30% of the crowd was not showing up as heat-sources. As he crossed the field and got near the light, he took it off and looked at gang members. Some of them were undead. Zombified and the like. That raised his eyebrows. (And now you know the reason they are called the 1.5 – when they die, they rise as undead into a half-life, but will meet final death if they fall again)

He wanted to investigate each car, in turn. In my list I’ve gone from “caboose” to engine, so he inspected the animal skull car first, but the door was locked and he couldn’t see inside. He checked the dead bodies car and I described a bunch of gang members inside doing drugs and carrying on. He checked the flames and bones one next and I said it was very hot inside, over 40C (104+ F), and he searched inside for a few seconds. He picked up a traveler in this car – one that is going to shift the entire narrative. I said he felt a pinch on his shoulder, taking some damage and when he looked he saw nothing. He flipped the phoropter down and saw a tiny Imp with its claws dug into his shoulder. He got wide-eyed but didn’t mess with it. He just left.

Next was the Saloon car, and I finally got to use an homage to a favorite film, “The Shining” and summoned the ghost-barkeep, Lloyd, to be polishing glasses behind the bar in this perfectly clean and normal train car. I also knew that Lloyd was jumble-touched and he knew things. When Vice opened the door and poked his head in, Lloyd greeted him by name and asked if his brothers and sisters were with him. Vice said no, they weren’t, and Lloyd said they better get their tickets soon, because the train was departing in less than an hour. (I wanted to add a timer to this whole affair as the night was waning, and I knew that if I didn’t push this party a little bit, they would bog down in debate and paralysis)

They went back and forth a little bit, with Vice questioning how Lloyd knew what he knew, and I played it up, saying, “Oh I know all about you, Mister Vice. You are quite well-known in certain circles and I make it my business to pay attention to the up-and-comers.” He loved that bit. Asked me which circles, but Lloyd demurred, claiming a gentlemen’s discretion. Vice moved on, knowing there was a schedule now, and he had to hurry.

The jumble car, or the aquarium as I was calling it, was bypassed. The engine was a climb. He had to be careful of where he put his hands and feet (being barefoot) around all the murderous architecture, and pulled himself up to a thick iron door with a porthole window of thick glass. The door was locked. He looked through the window and I described two gang members – one was grey-haired and the other was young. They were shouting at one another but the glass and door were too thick to make out any words.

He was worried about his time running out, this whole thing taking a little over 30 minutes, and he headed back. Once back at the party, he told them everything that he saw and his conversation with Lloyd. He didn’t mention the Imp, however. Not yet.

There was debate and argument about what to do. They needed to somehow sneak past the entire gang and get the engine door open. This didn’t seem feasible, so they discussed somehow sneaking aboard. I told them that based on the size of the train and the number of gang members, this was going to look “like a train in India” with people forced to ride on the sides and roofs of the train cars. They thought maybe they could hide inside one of the cars. This sounded like a pretty bad idea to me, but I said nothing and decided to give them an out – for a price.

I told Vice to come with me and we stepped outside.

I said that the Imp on his shoulder suddenly stings him in the neck and he feels a wash of heat and pain roll over him, but then the Imp starts speaking Infernal and Vice can understand it. (There are always ways, fellow DMs, to cheese the language barriers – myriad ways!)

I put on my best tiny, gruff voice and said – “You. Need. Ticket. I give. You pay. Yes?” Vice says, “What’s the price”. Imp smiles. “Just. A. Small. Piece. Of. Your. Soul. Not much. Tiny bit.”

Vice agrees without hesitation. The Imp is delighted, but says nothing, and sees a business opportunity. The Imp says, “Your. Friends. Can. Ride. Too.” Vice raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?” Imp nods. Vice agrees without hesitation.

Fireworks went off in my head, though I stroked my beard and said “Hmm, ok, yes. Let’s go back inside.” I’ll detail those fireworks in my next setup post.

Vice went inside and said “I got a ticket, and I can get you ones too.” The party asked how. Vice said, “the Imp can do it for a small piece of our soul.”

You should have heard Walter go off. The only sensible one in the family, I love Jack, who plays him, because he’s just so resigned to this shitstorm he signed up for, but he can’t help but protest and point out the lack of smart decision making that they have been cursed with since the beginning. Its done with such love and humor though that you can’t fault him for it – its a great bit of roleplaying and I sincerely hope I get to game with this guy after this campaign ends. He’s got the sensibility of a great roleplayer, given more exposure to the game.

In the end, though, he agreed. They didn’t have much choice. Except to maybe abandon the train idea and get walking again. But nah. They all agreed. The Imp gates in 5 more Imps, one per party member, and they all get stung and they all lose 5 HP permanently to pay for the ticket. This was the piece of their soul.

What they didn’t consider was what this means. They have now entered a contract with these Imps. Their souls are now currency, even if it is a sliver, its got value and the Imps know something that the party doesn’t know (and what I didn’t know either until Vice agreed to the Imp’s proposal) – and that is, that the Helltrain goes through Hell. For real.

The party are all turned invisible by the Imps’ magic tail-toxins, and they pick up their gear, including the Totems, and get on the train, on the flames and bones car. You know, the one that’s a Gate to the Nine Hells.


The next game hasn’t been scheduled yet. But I do want to put up a Setup post for session 7, cause I had a massive revelation about what is going to happen next, and I want to get it all down on paper before I forget, and of course, share my ramblings with all of you πŸ™‚

As always, comments are encouraged, don’t be shy! Thanks for reading!

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Posted by on July 19, 2017 in Campaign Log


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