This is a recap of my ongoing solo game of D&D. You don’t need to breeze through all prior material to enjoy this chapter – but it’ll probably help. This session has some content from Baldur’s Gate: Descent Into Avernus – specifically chapter…

…Okay, that’s a stretch. I’m hardly playing the same module anymore, it’s been so heavily reworked. The only thing this and Descent have in common anymore is that a spooky lady pulled a town to hell. Otherwise, you’re completely spoiler free.

The party:

<< Elion, a SEIA agent and arcane mechanic with a major survivor’s complex.

Melody, the newly named Tsethem of ice and a refugee from the infinite city. >>

<< Larissa Lightstep, a melancholic heiress and fiend slayer extraordinaire.

Jevak, a Mirling bringing word of a coming invasion. >>

Crunch

“The characters should be 11th level by the time they discover this location.”

… :’D

Guess we’re going this with an average party level of 6 and 3/4. Hoo boy.



The only thing more claustrophobic than the pitch blackness inside the decaying tunnels is the stench of death: a rotting, overpowering odour that makes even Jevak stick his claws into his nostrils. Only he and Elion could see through the gloom, meaning the girls had to be led stumbling through the passage as they looked for an entrance to the citadel.

The Simurg had stayed with their twin-EPEs again. The journey from the hot springs was thankfully uneventful, leaving them plenty of time to mentally prepare themselves for whatever the infected fortress had in store. They had finally discovered the place surrounded by fields of fire and pools of stinking, acrid blood. Poking out of the rocky terrain, the giant fleshy structure seeped puss from the top like a volcano.

Elion: Yep, nope. *activates his suit’s sealed environmental control* Not breathing that in.

A tunnel had been hacked away at the scabbed tissue at the base – being the only entrance aside from the top, they’d opted to descend into the darkness instead of plunge into the infected liquids. The further they crept, the more signs of demon activity cropped up. Slaughtered devils littering the floor, insane shrieks echoing through the caves, and a group of lesser demons attempting to gnaw their way through the wall all pointed to one thing: The fiends were trying to get to whoever was imprisoned in the citadel.

Melody: Do you think they know?

Elion: What, that whoever’s trapped here is the key to taking down the Scarred Lady? Yeah, probably.

Larissa: I should not be surprised. But if the archfiend knows of the threat this prisoner poses, there would be many more devils here to protect it. We may still be in time to enact a rescue before the demons seize it.

Now, they’ve avoided the fiends and clambered down onto a ledge overlooking a dimly lit cavern containing a vast doorway, sealed shut. A hog-like demon shrieks at a number of goat-headed demons engaged in slamming themselves against the door – literal battering rams.

Elion: That looks like the entrance to me. Something tells me they won’t just let us in if we knock.

Larissa: We must draw the fiends away. Elion, are you able to carry Melody?

He can – and Larissa’s telekinesis is able to lift them both off the ground and carry them about as though flying. Using Mel’s frost attacks and Elion’s force blasts, they make a couple of flyby attacks on the demons below: before the hog-like creature sprouts tiny wings that somehow allows its giant bulk to chase after them.

Elion: Ok! Not good! Retreat!

Larissa: (telepathy) Calm. I have a plan.

Instead of returning her airborne teammates, she sends them towards the roof of the cavern: around 80 feet above the craggy floor. The fiend takes the bait, bellowing as it chases after their dangling legs. Larissa waits until it almost has them, then sends it crashing onto the ledge with a mental blast. She lets go of her grip on the other two, who plummet down to deliver a beautiful synchronised coup de gras on the stunned demon.

Mel: Stellar job. That was quick thinking.

Elion: How in Tiamat’s fuzzy whiskers was that thing able to fly?? Look at it! *kicks at the tiny wings*

Jevak: Sss! Wait! Look! *beckons the others to the edge of the overhang* Where demonsss?

The goat-headed creatures are nowhere in sight. Larissa points out a tunnel at the far end of the cavern, suggesting they fled that way. Before they can argue how to climb down to the door, Jevak quiets them with a hiss: A volley of baying echoes from a passage behind them, followed by the soft thudding of hundreds of paws – plus the flapping of heavy wings.

Mel: Oh, spit.

Larissa: That sound…

The goat demons clatter towards them through the tunnel, followed by three winged fiends and countless wolf-like, skeletal-faced creatures.

Larissa: Gnolls! Flee! We must flee!

They’re outnumbered, ten times more than they can handle. Melody activates her Tsethem mask, freezing the tunnel and sending the fiends sliding back along the suddenly icy floor. But the long-necked flying demons fly on unperturbed, letting out a horrific screech that stuns Larissa and Jevak. Elion shoots a flurry of spinning blades from his suit, that hover in place to block the demons’ path.

Elion: Grab them, move!

He and Mel seize their staggering friends and pull them to the overhang’s edge, safely descending on the latter’s gravity decelerator. The tunnel leading from the cavern’s floor must connect to the one behind the overhang, as the gnolls’ baying begins to echo from that passage. Elion hurries over to the doors: massive timber constructs made from some unknown wood. On their surface is an inscription in a fiendish tongue.

Elion: Please open, please open.. *pushes the doors* …Damn it! What the hells do we do?

Jevak: Demonsss near! *grips his obsidian blade, fear in his eyes* Quick, Elf!

Larissa: *shakes her head to clear it* That writing…

Mel: What does it say?

Elion: How should I know?? Demon-speak wasn’t exactly an available option in school!

Larissa: It isn’t fiendish. Not the words themselves.

Elion: Wha..?

Larissa: I cannot read it literally – but this layout, I have seen many times before. I know this by memory. *reaches out a hand to trace along the engravings* It is the pledge of trust, the first prayer of Appinamopu.

Mel: But…

Elion: No, I get it! It’s… That’s actually really smart. No way in the hells would a fiend recite a prayer to the Supreme One.

Larissa: Nor out of the hells. Stand back.

They step away from the colossal doors as she starts reciting the pledge. The thud of gnoll paws grows louder, their baying and snarling echoing nearer, until they finally burst into the cavern again – just as Larissa finishes the prayer. The doors grind open, agonisingly slow.

Elion: Go, go!

They squeeze through the doors, immediately halting their progress and pushing them back into place. They thud shut with a morbid finality.

Mel lets out the breath she started holding a whole minute ago, as they turn to take in their surroundings. The citadel interior is much cleaner than the tunnels outside, carved from a slate rock. A dull blue light shone from somewhere in the vaulted ceiling, illuminating the pillars and the central dais: upon which kneels a lone humanoid.

Elion lets out a nervous laugh. There is a tangible aura around the prisoner, one that can’t quite be described as fear. It’s unsettling enough to make even Jevak’s hairs stand on end.

Elion: Uhh huhuh… Hey.

He takes a step forward… And the room crumbles soundlessly around him, leaving nothing but a fine mist. Even his teammates have vanished in the haze.

Aaaand cue the music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IFTq6L_6St8

Elion: …Guys?

No reply. After a few seconds the mist clears: he’s standing on the deck of an airship, flying north across the island of Tirkosu. An early sunsets casts a golden tinge upon the peaceful scene before him – and upon the two figures standing at the bow of the ship.

One is a youthful man, probably in his early twenties, with a sharp, intelligent face and blonde, almost white hair. He’s dressed in a white military uniform Elion vaguely recognises having seen in Rahm Oru once – it certainly looks very official. A broad-bladed sword is sheathed at his side.

The other is a young woman in red who appears just a little older than him, slight figure and prim posture offset by mischievous eyes and a smile to match. Dark hair blows about her shoulders in the wind – and the first thing Elion hears again is her playful laugh.

Her: Oh come now, you’re not saying you didn’t wanna come yourself? Any soldier can be an escort, but only you can be mine.

Him: Ahh, you got me there. Nah, but really: You’re more important than I can entrust to the troops. What’s up there, *reaches out to tap her head* That… is pro’lly gonna turn the tide in my favour. I can’t risk this opportunity, even if it means I gotta be out in the open.

Elion: Uhhh… I don’t mean to be a third wheel here, but I gotta cut in: Who the flying fez are you?

Her: Listen to yourself; commanding soldiers, analysing tactical advantages.. You’ve changed, so so much, but then you still came back for me. Just like you promised.

Him: Well now. *takes her by the hands, laughing* You know that I don’t break my promises.

Elion: Ooookay. Just ignore me, that’s fine. *fiddles with his gauntlet* This has gotta be some kind of illusion…

The woman leans in, seemingly for a kiss; but the commander’s gaze has already wandered to the horizon, so she settles for laying her head on his shoulder – a flash of unreadable emotion stirring behind her eyes. Elion can’t help but let out a gasp as the craft shuttles over a ridge, revealing a sprawling, gleaming, golden-spired city upon the north side. Even despite having never laid eyes upon the metropolis before, he can easily recall the name of the trade empire’s crown jewel: Orthraze!

The sun glistens off a far away window, blinding him for a second: and just like that, the airship and the magnificent golden city have vanished, replaced by a much darker atmosphere. Shadow pace before shivering illusions, magical terminals providing the only source of light in the dimmed enclosure. The couple from before are hunched over a metal container big enough to hold a tall humanoid.

Him: Listen, you’ve done a great job with this, but there’s really no way it can be used, practically. It’s just too big for the field. I’m gonna have to speak to the high command tonight, tell them it’s not gonna work.

Her: B-But what about dinner? You promised..

Him: Yeah, I know… I know. Look, I’m really sorry, I really wanted to, but… This is the kind of tough decision I have to make now. I’ll make it up to you, I pr-… I will. *sighs as he pats the casing* If only we could shrink it without losing performance.

Her: I was going to wear my crimson dress, and those little earrings you like…

Him: Maybe it could be used on critically injured troops, if we could get them back to the lab fast enough…

Her: And you know I adore the opuntia soup place..

Him: But even then I doubt they’d want to go through with the process.

Her: Then don’t ask.

There’s a heavy pause. Elion finishes configuring his gauntlet and scans the surroundings: Everything radiates with illusion magic. The two silhouettes stare at each other, and when they speak again their tones are hushed.

Him: What did you just say?

Her: You know better than any of us that we’re losing. That we’ve already lost.

Him: If we don’t protect them, we’ve lost anyway. We’re Tsethem. We don’t compromise.

Her: We’re already compromised! We can’t do an-y-thing to stop them! This would give us a fighting chance! *lifts his chin with a finger* Don’t you wanna win? Because these are the kind of tough decisions you have to make now.

Another pause. The man slowly shakes his head.

Him: No, I can’t. Yeah, it’s bad. But, we’ve got engineers working on understanding their tech – A breakthrough there’ll give us the upper hand. This.. this is our last resort.

And again the scene dissolves, reforming on a starlit beach probably not too far from Little Orthraze. Countless figures lie bleeding in the sand, armoured gnomes and blue-clad humans alongside Valkeesh footsoldiers. Through the crash of the storm-tossed waves, Elion can make out a voice calling for help. A light flickers on a short distance away, revealing a group huddled over one of the bodies.

??: Oh shad, oh shad!

??: Get the cleric. CLERIC!

??: Commander, air says they’ve retreated into the astral plane. There was nothing they could do.

Him: CLERIC?! We need a cleric, for hope’s sake!

The hum of an airship approaches as Elion crunches nearer, picking out the grand high commander kneeling beside the body of an Elkore woman in green armour. His dark-haired human friend stands to the side, observing with an unreadable countenance.

Him: Hey, it’s gonna be okay, okay? I promise.. God, please no, stay with me Neneti!..

As he helps the troops lift her onto the airship, Elion glances at the girl from the lab: and his heart skips a beat at the sight of her face, her pretty features horrifyingly twisted by a mask of furious vitriol. The chillingly covetous gaze lasts for a split second, before she steps towards the airship – impassively neutral again.

Then a wave crashes on the shore, the intensity of the sound reaching a climax: and then suddenly cutting off. The beach is gone, the airship and characters with it. Elion stands with his teammates once more in the oppressively-lit citadel of the infected fortress.

Jevak: What?? What???

Elion: Guys, did you see that?? I just had this weird vision!..

Mel: Sack-heads! What were they… Who was that?..

Larissa: It’s YOU?.. *stumbles back up against the door with a startled face* But then, that means… that it’s HER!

A hollow, almost sobbing laugh cuts them off. The prisoner stirs.

Prisoner: Kill me, please? I did it. You know now. I broke my promise. It won’t go away. Kill me, please?

Mel: Woah.

Elion: Time out: you sound like…

Larissa: You are correct. *steps away from the door, slowly approaching the prisoner* Grand high commander Michael Thane. You won the Great War; by murdering the entire Lamia race, and turning them into killing machines.

Elion: …Did I skip a history lesson?

Larissa: It is not something most are aware of. Marianne of Sterling erased all memory of them. It is believed they fell to Tiamat in the planar war.

Prisoner: Kill me, please?

Mel: That’s what Princess Turf told us, on the infinite city.

Elion: But then, if he’s the commander guy…

Larissa: The Scarred Lady must be Marianne.

Prisoner: Kill me, please??

Jevak: What doesss to help? Jusssst fiend, like othersss.

Larissa: Oh, he is no ordinary fiend. He remembers his past life. Don’t you?

She reaches the dais, now able to properly see the hideously malformed creature before her. Chains appear to writhe and twist beneath his scabbed skin, rippling like bizarre muscles. He turns sightless eyes towards the Lighstep girl.

Prisoner: It won’t go away. I did it.

Crunch

MUNE Intervention: Wild Negative

Portent: Scramble Splatter



A sharp crack echoes throughout the citadel. Dust and stone pours from the roof, followed by a scream and a squishy thud as a gnoll hits the ground – The demons have broken through. Larissa hurriedly addresses the prisoner.

Larissa: Marianne betrayed the ancient Tsethem! You have a chance to avenge them, and save the people you swore to protect! She has Rahm Oru! Will you help us if-

A chunk of ceiling fractures the floor as it impacts, allowing the three long-necked flying demons to enter. The goat headed demons ride on their backs as they swoops down, immediately swarming Larissa. Mel and Jevak face off against of of the Vrocks, while Elion takes on the other two and the Bulezau alone. The prisoner’s yells to be freed so he can help are ignored.

Elion: Someone help Larissa! Jev, quick!

Mel: I gotta potion, catch!

Jevak darts in and out of the combatants and feeds Larissa the healing liquid: But it’s not enough to counter the Vrock spores in her blood, and she passes out again immediately.

Jevak: Not worrrk! Ffffail!

Elion: Keep her heart pumping, you idiot! *unleashes an arc of lightning cutting through the Vrocks* Give her chest compressions!

Jevak: Comprrrressssion? *squeezes her bust, baffled*

Elion: Not like that, Tiamat’s-!

Mel rushes over to Larissa dripping demon ichor, and sticks a stimulatory psi-shard in her. Jevak bounds over to tag-team the final Vrock with Elion. As the last Bulezau is splattered across the cracked floor, its ichor sprays over the dais – prompting runes along the base to light up and enclose the prisoner in rings of crackling blue light.

Jevak: *shields his eyes* Sss! Ssstop!

Elion: What’s happening?

Prisoner: He knows. He knows. He knows. *lifts his sunken eyes to the team* The Amber Rider is coming.