More Words in The Mists

On Playing 'Dangerous' and Evil in D&D – Digital Ephemera

The shop has closed and the storekeeper ushers you out.  Along the way, he hands you a note though.  As you find yourself under the clammy evening following an afternoon shower, the letter seems to unfurl itself by magic.  The writing is unlike that of the scribe’s.  “For your service, allow me to provide some insight by my own eyes.  After all, any new information broker under my service should be given a proper welcoming present.  And yes, this means you.”  Lowering the letter, you notice a button materialize upon the right breast pocket of your shirt.  It’s a symbol, one swearing allegiance to Azalin.  Frantic, you continue reading.  “Now, please review this information.  It shall be relevant to your next assignment.  And please, don’t think of betraying me.  The last one who tried never made it to the domain’s border.  Now, inform yourself.  I shall test you the following evening. – A”

Welcome to Darkon.  You are from here, you have always been here, you will find your roots here and you shall always serve Azalin Rex.

Author’s Note: I forgot that I wanted to revisit Odiare. I never really liked that domain and the adventure that went with it felt too hokey. So, time to make Maligno’s existence a true nightmare. Mangiafuoco, a cruel puppet master from the original story, becomes his ultimate foil.  Big thanks to the Fraternity of Shadows forums for inspiration. Other than that, let me further rip off Thief.  Also, no one tries to get something out of the mighty lich without him getting something in return.  That said, as much as I love Azalin as a magnificent bastard, I’m done with him… save for one more thing.


The Quake of Rockbaecche

Thief : The Dark Project – Day 7 | Pix's Origin Adventures

An attack between Rockbaecche and Zherisia by Timorian nationalist radicals unleashes something awful.  The Fissure, the massive fault between the territories, grows.  A horrible glow begins to blind both Rockbaecche soldier and bomb-throwing rioter as the land quakes and quivers.  Forces from both sides are consumed in the collapsing earth.  Those who aren’t crushed emit deathly screams as the things below enact their wrath.  The infected veins of the Fissure begin to move upon the borders of Rockbaecche now, spreading the terrors of the underground dwellers upon a land already contending with problems. Attempts to infect the Marikith have failed, only making the subterranean monsters more aggressive in their pursuits of the outskirt lands.  However, advancing technologies have helped in keeping them away.  But attempts by the government to push or bury the fissure constantly fail.  The faint dimness from the tendril faults still haunts nights upon dotting villages.  The locals now know the fears that terrorized Timor and later Paridon for so long.  Cattle begins to go missing in the night as Doppelgangers move into the region too, to compete against their blood sworn racial enemy.

But something far more foul is ultimately unearthed as a result of the shaking grounds.  An unholy site dedicated to strange and eldritch beings is revealed below the depths of the ruling capital.  Mad witches and occultists chased away by the guardsmen and royal forces find comfort in the profane chambers, before explorers and special recruits ready for the battles below. The Regent Commander’s fears of being overthrown or replaced increased after strange things occur.  The mad witches try to take to this cursed place, as the regent’s forces try to stop them.  Those who follow these old sorceries see the ancient city as a place of potential power, unaware of how such misunderstood power corrupts.  The ensuing fights begin to awaken something in the coffers and coffins below.  Restless spirits do not see the living as viable hosts, but the infected husks seem more than suitable for their needs.  The plague zombies of the capital have now gained a massive boon, even though they are still confined to the domain.  The deranged warlocks and dark mages see these new undead hybrids as both projects to work on and forces to mold into their own dangerous armies.  After the capital has already suffered much from growing hostilities and escalating violence, this would bring about absolute devastation.


Scaena & Prose Arch, a feud

Actors perform onstage at the Globe in an itchy-scratchy pen-and-watercolor sketch by illustrator C. Walter Hodges.

The Fell Crafts Cluster has not seen too much major shake up in the years of late.  Or rather, this except with Prose Arch.  The bulbous and abominable owner of the Prose Arch Theater has found himself facing a new rival.  The Pocket Domain of Scaena holds another small theater, which is known to travel and materialize just outside of known domain space.  The Pocket Darklord, Lemot Sediam Juste, is a playwright whose damnation came from killing the critics, actors and audience of his previous failed play.  While he finds himself now uninspired, he has been fine with rehashing old stories for new audiences.  And while he can enact illusions to make his performances truly incredible, he is cursed to always see things for what they really are.  It just happens that his realm found great comfort in the Fell Crafts lands.  Originally finding itself to Glensburough, he met much acclaim among the often snooty populous.  At long last, he was hailed as a genius.  He found new reason to live and create, immediately getting to work on new plays across various genres.  In fact, he had announced for audiences to some day expect a new work for them.  As he had readied for an Encore presentation for the next night, The Mists had other plans.  Now, he emerged in a new city.  The lands were far less ornate and the people already spoke of another playhouse.  Many streets nearby proved more rundown and dirty, devoid of the advancements of Glensburough.  This confused and frustrated Juste, who none the less prepared for another presentation.

During his opening night within Prose Arch, his attendance was minimal.  While reception was tolerable, he was deeply disappointed by the turnout and only slightly engaged reactions.  The subsequent night, only a few more attended his work and he was once again dismayed.  Upon the third night, well after the curtains lowered and ‘actors’ dispersed, he asked the community while few cared about his work.  They informed him that another theater company was well established within the lands of Fell Craft, the Prose Arch company.  Confined to Scaena, all he could do was pay spies to infiltrate and mess with the rival company’s plays.  From there, he learned of a Benedict Smythe, a corpulent and bloated looking bag of a man.  Try as he may, he always looks rather ugly and disheveled, causing him to make few public appearances.  Even magic disguises fail to make him look good.  He has forced himself to operate through proxies, while surveying all around him through magic and hired hands.  In fact, Juste had met with several associates of Smythe.  Their declarations started as curiosity and amusement.  However, as Juste began to receive attention, messages sent to him started to become threatening.  Eventually, henchmen were hired by Smythe to destroy Scaena.  To their surprise, Juste was more than willing to burn the place down himself.  What they didn’t realize is that this has been done before.  Rather than removing him from Prose Arch, The Mists saw their new drama to produce and so the pocket domain stayed for now.  Over the next few days, reports began to stir about how the burned playhouse magically came back.  Smythe became infuriated.  Through sheer pettiness, he changed a script at last minute by editing a farcical comedy to mock Scaena instead.  Following a successful performance, the cruel parody convinced the public that the rival playhouse was far from worth their time, as foppish characters and clownish charades portrayed the competitor as a house of pretense, overconfidence and glossy mirrors.  Juste was as humiliated as he was enraged.  He had little in the ways of allies, toiling for a manner of weeks until The Dark Powers allowed his playhouse to go once more.  Some say this is the reason why his latest stories are angry and aggressive.  Even his own comedies are mean-spirited and cathartic, rather than light and jovial.  Those who have visited the visual marvels of the theatre have noticed this startling transformation.  Some patrons have been bewildered at the magician’s illusions making members disappear.  While it looked like a show, audience members have begun to vanish and/or die off during these more brash and seething shows.  Eventually, the raging playwright may return to normal, so long as he doesn’t return to Prose Arch.  He’s not even sure if he can handle Glensburough again.

On the domain of Prose Arch.

Prose Arch is a bustling metropolitan city, a fine representative of an emerging national empire. It is here where the arts of the land truly shine, through a theater invited to the masses through the Great Stages of the Smythe Playhouse.  Of course, the Smythe Theatre hasn’t been called that for some time.  Now named after the city of Prose Arch, it serves as the spiritual successor where the previous establishment tragically failed under mishaps of magic.  Because of this, patrons and viewers prove to be especially superstitious and skittish of plots involving magic.  Some say that a play over a clash of kings results in tragedy every time the play’s name is mentioned.  Like said play, several others are referred to only by nicknames.  This only greatly upsets Smythe, who blame “an outside force” for causing these reactions in guests and actors alike. Shows are never expensive and range in a variety of styles and topics. However, its owner carries a dark past for the fine stage.

Darklord: Benedict K. Smythe.  Once a bard of great influence, he saw himself gradually fed up with the pretense of nobility and the idea of theater as a joy for only the wealthiest.  He turned his attention on using much of his funds for a huge theater that could gather the commoner masses.  He envisioned a place for ancient tales and whatnot to be displayed for the everyday people, rather than confined to stuffy throne rooms and private show halls.  For many years of operation, modest to heavy crowds came in to see what incredible tales the bard would adapt or make whole clothe.  Over time, he became more ambitious, adding all sorts of spectacle and wonder to his productions.  For those who liked the humble atmosphere, they became turned off.  But, this only drew in more crowds.  The brighter years of the theater came to a close with its next great production, which called for a nefarious wizard to conjure a monster in the show. However, the wizard was real and the conjured monster broke from its magical control. Many died, but the owner survived. In truth, he was infected by a slaad.  For many months, the theater was closed.  In order to evade guilt or sentence, he created a new persona for himself and later opened the theater under a new name, Prose Arch.   Much time later, the theater reopened, with Smythe going under an alias, to debut a pretentious drama based on Smythe’s tragedies over the many months. With him as the main star, the show opened well, until the Slaad emerged from a dying Smythe to incite a new wave of violence. The Mists soon take the stage, as the owner found himself awake in his office, now the creature himself! And worse, the lands surrounding the city have disappeared! Only reports of another land overrun by demonic toys surface. For a man so concerned with public appearance and public approval, his new form was distasteful and ugly.  He could disguise himself as a human, but one equally awful to look at.

The theater remained closed for months, as Smythe learned of his new powers. While he was doomed to never leave the abandoned building, he drew in a cadre of vile characters to turn the whole city into his stage. Recently, a new theater company was set to “takeover” Smythe Playhouse and begin renovation. This was done through a series of aliases and hired hands. This has been made even easier after learning the theater of another nearby land, Odiare, has been closed for some time.  By current events, that was several years ago, as Prose Arch emerged into the Mists in the year 750 BC.  (The plots and terrors of this land are largely inspired by London through William Shakespeare (giving it a CL 8 or maybe 9), as well as an adventure seed from Dungeon Magazine #77 (Stage Fright). The name is a pun of Proscenium Arch, a frame between the stage and the auditorium.)


Odiare Anew

Giovanni Ventaloro Art Blog: Mangiafuoco

After RM2 The Created, Maligno’s world becomes hell.

Maligno was on a personal mission, to force all around him to recognize him as the lovable and real child that he was.  However, his inhuman and monstrous behavior ironically chased those away.  Even the very children he sought to play with and protect became more fearful than appreciative of him.  Attempts to use strange magics to inhabit wayward adults and find “better” children to play with failed.  In the end, he was foiled by a group of nearby travelers.  While his minions took their bodies for their own gain, they managed to turn the tables and outsmart him.  While he was defeated, he didn’t die.  However, his own father, Geppetto, was taken from The Mists.  All that remained of him was a letter addressing that he was a failure to his son and he should have raised him better.  In fact, many of the children he played with were taken too.  New people arrived as Maligno found himself locked on his father’s old workshop.  Over the years, it fell to ruin as he observed these new people, growing and happy.  One day, there was a clang at the door.  The lock was being removed and someone was preparing to enter.  It wasn’t Geppetto, but a large, imposing and ugly man.  For the first time, Maligno felt afraid of a human.  This was Mangiafuco, who saw the amazing wooden boy he heard about in rumors.  He easily subdued the Darklord, reciting the Carrionette’s sins to him as well.  Looking back at two other men with him, he said he’d purchase the workshop.  He also told them that he wished to adopt the “strange urchin” in the shop.  Maligno was shocked, the hairy devilish man addressed him as a boy, something only other children did.  The grim giant figure that ushered him to his marionette theater under the cold shadow of night.  Maligno was insulted, but his “new father” ensured he’d be well at home here.  In fact, a certain dark magic lingered over here as well.  Any Carrionettes within were indeed new, but well under his control.  While he has no will to exert on Maligno, intimidation and other means of manipulation work fine.  Before Maligno embraced full darkness, there was a rival company that did all it could to raise to the same level of popularity as the theater that Geppetto aided.  This was Stromboli theater, a production that was still high in quality, despite being named after a food.  The patron of this establishment, Mangiafuoco, not only proved to be a pain for Geppetto, but would soon be the source of total hell for Maligno.  He recognized the man as a nuisance for his true father, one he failed to kill… if find at all, originally.

The Puppet Master proves far more evil, with Maligno’s father long gone… or at least out of the picture.  He proved to not only be a cruel man, but a slaver of sorts.  Through playful moments and gaslighting his “new son”, he has pushed Maligno into feats that could kill mortal boys of his bodily frame.  In his new life, the darklord merely entertains the children around him… sometimes as a puppet, and other times “acting” as a real boy.  While quickly resenting his abusive step-father, he can lift no finger to hurt him.  Any attempt to damage him, even by the hands of other evil puppets, he instantly recovers.  He realizes that his new purpose is to make his “owner” money.  However, the blood hungry impulses of the cruel puppets never faded.  The dark arts that made them have benefited a new master nicely.  Anyone who dares to criticize Mangiafuoco will face his wrath… Doubly so for anyone who gains his trust and then betrays it.  The killer puppets act as they do before, but under a new agenda.  Mysterious murders have once again rocked the village, but with few to prove a culprit.  As if through magic, memory of the original murders seemed to be lost as either a dream or a means of young minds coping from a string of wandering marauders.  None suspect Stromboli Theater of foul play, despite how hated the owner is in the town.  While he is known to be a hideous caricature of a man, with a worse attitude, the worst of him is hidden from plain sight.  Some say that Mangiafuoco was supposed to be a Darklord.  His very name, attached to the consumption of fire, says enough about that.  During the waning days of his business, he became concerned of not just failure but his mortality.  This lead him into the occult.  He discovered a means of using ancient rituals to bind and create life, which he shared with Geppetto after a business deal was secured.  After several years and shows under an abusive contract, the toymaker fled from the mad showman’s theater and the entire city.  He fled to Odiare to start anew, using what he learned along the way.  This ended up with a different marionette theater benefiting the magical talents of the toymaker.  But, the darkness caught up with him through Maligno, which brought about the events that cursed the land.  Maligno brought fear to the children, to form them to respect them.  The death of the village’s adults helped see to that.  However, the Grand Conjunction and later events helped put an end to that… as a long lost rival found his way into the equally lost town.

Odiare has changed much since older troubles.  The children have grown up and have since helped their city recover.  Over time, the mists somewhat parted to reveal that other lands existed nearby, drawing in more crowds.  Maligno’s puppets were threatened, as knowledge of their accursed powers became known and heroes arrived to suppress them.  Maligno himself pushed his father to change his form, becoming even more boy-like in the process.  Something went wrong, as a new generation was horrified by the uncanniness of the wooden abomination.  The Carrionette found himself abandoned by the very audience he sought out, the young.  After nearly killing his father, he flung himself into a burning fireplace as he plead the Dark Powers for aid in his quest to be loved and treated like a real child.  The Powers responded and a hated rival was pulled in to bring torment anew.  The Flame Eater surfaced, after the charred and scarred Maligno found himself abandoned for such a long time.  For over a decade, he was forced to stay by his stepfather’s side, while his near “mindless” brethren carry his dirty work.  They can still swap bodies like before, but now they are given new purpose and abilities.  To keep the Stromboli’s owner alive, they harvest souls and bring them to the theater building.  The souls of the young are especially invigorating.  But, unbeknownst to Mangiafuoco, dark spirits sometimes help Maligno escape his chained room for a night.  They take the form of a fox and a cat, both proclaim to be his “true friends” in a work that rebukes and exploits him.  They help him indulge his own aggressive side, sneaking him into houses to pillage, destroy and even murder.  However, he never gets the chance to enjoy his debauchery, as he finds himself immediately dragged back to his room after completing the act.  It is unknown if these spirits are real or just some manifestation of the Stromboli Theater’s occult magics.  In fact, it’s not known if the theater owner has become a co-darklord of sorts.  The owner has left the theater on rare occasion, but he has never left Odiare… even with his many failed attempts.  This is only backed up by the fact that Stromboli Theater has endured Maligno’s own retaliation as of late.  A few weeks ago, Maligno stole some paint, mixing with pitch and igniting it.  The flames quickly engulfed the theater and the original Darklord began to see freedom.  But, it was for nothing.  From the flames, untouched, the hulking Flame-Eater emerged like a devil.  He mocked the boy puppet before shoving him into the flames to torture the carrionette; burning his wooden flesh.  As the scorching inferno devoured Maligno, he blacked out.  He later awakened, chained to his room once more.  The theater was undamaged and so was he… and from a slotted window at the top of the bedroom door, Mangiafuoco’s eyes glared like that same blaze.  And behind Maligno, the faint cackling of the two beast spirits hung in the near distance.


The False History of Reality’s End

Yugoloth - 1d4chan

Stories tell of The Sundered Ward, a section of Sigil lost to time and banished from all record.  This sector connected The Lady’s Ward to the Lower Ward.  In fact, it might have been a part of the Lower Ward itself.  While there is something to be said about gods locked off from The Cage, other creatures have found their welcome.  Among them would be an Ultroloth with high aspirations and even higher delusions.  Zegul’Mrot arrived with methods of upheaval, the end of the Blood War.  This stirred excitement, fear and revulsion.  His calls for massive change were revolutionary, especially within the sector of the city.  This sparked the idea that the Blood War could end in favor of a multiverse turned into the ultimate realm of conflict.  Hatemongers, madmen, sadists and more flooded the cult as fear overwhelmed the city.  Even other fiends became shocked that such a thing is gaining momentum.  Worse, the future-oinoloth’s ambitions caught particularly deranged members of the Godsmen, who saw a spark of potential within him.  As violence began to break out in an effort to help breach the Blood War beyond the planes, through the Cage and into the Prime; both mortal and higher powers of the city plotted in secret to end the mess before the Lady went to extremes.

The time came for the Lady to take action, at first through her Dabus.  Days went by mundane methods of thwarting the mad cult failed.  Zegul’Mrot’s methods escalated and consumed a piece of the Lower Ward, now the Sundered Ward.  It was a haven for apocalyptic visionaries, lead by the fiend prophet.  It had become clear that the Bladed Lady had become impatient after allowing citizens to try their own means.  The False Oinoloth was becoming too strong and disrupting too much within the city.  The Dabus got busy to construct a trap, in an effort to curb the fiendish menace.  A loose assistance from both baatezu and tanarri helped to assure that the ultroloth’s plans would end.  The trap was simple, a large statue would ensnare him after he tried to channel its “power within”.  The statue’s special magic was well hidden behind several layers, making the recipient none the wiser to what it really does.  This was only the start of the master plan, as Zegul’Mrot took the bait due to his inflated ego.  Before he could escape, the whole chunk of the city was mazed away.  While it is unheard of to maze whole lands, this became one of the rare exceptions.  While the blocks weren’t overall huge, this caused The Cage to shrink slightly as a result.  Within the maze, the ultroloth was doubly trapped.  Those who once agreed with him were now panicked, turning against him in the name of survival.  His statue prison became yet another layer of the maze.  But, the ‘loths below him helped to plan a way out.  They tried weaving rituals and warping space around them to accelerate an exit for the land.  As they left the pocket space, they found banks of mist swarm the land as the lost ward began to shift and change around the yugoloth court.  Had they finally escaped?  What awaits them now?  Tales of Reality’s End speak of what’s next.  Of course, none of this is true.  It’s just a story fabricated by the powers to make sense of a place that looks so akin to Sigil, as well as the Lower Planar Gatetowns.  The domain from the beginning was a fabrication of Zegul’Mrot’s torments, he was rarely ever seen in Sigil itself.


A New Prophecy, The Time is Upon Us!

The Time of Unparalleled Darkness is once again brought up by Ezran priests, after many begin to experience truly awful dreams.  Over the months to come, a plague of insanity washes over the clergy and its sects.  Violence breaks out at temples, for seemingly random reasons.  In extreme cases, some group of miscreants disguised as knights and paladins; all referring to themselves as “The Order of the Crows”, have dispatched to put the fallen priests down.  Their actions seemed honorable enough, but the presence of this factions has brought almost as much dismay as the priests… for many, at least.  Worse, some priests appear to be infected by something abnormal too.  Many territories take to banning The Church of Ezra, especially the Darkonese Sect which has fully succumbed to the mania.  Priests of the Mordentish sect fear that they will be attacked by them some day.  Prior to this removal, many took to the streets to babble insane prophecy about an apocalypse.  They told of a Time of Unparalleled Darkness.  After banishment from Darkon, many took to the former Arak mountains and towards the border of Nova Vaasa, coming into conflict with the Church of the Lawbringer.  The most detached began to break away from their church, going on a pilgrimage to The Shadow Rift.  Something was particularly off about them, as these especially mad monks looked slightly disfigured.  The somewhat composed remains tried to recuperate, doing all they could to cleanse themselves of the horror while petitioning a return to their true lands.  They were none the wiser of what was yet to come.  News of the carnival within Nova Vaasa did draw their attention, for reasons they weren’t sure of at the time.  A form of reality wrinkle caused by the owner of the carnival especially caught their eye.  The priests who didn’t remain by the Nova Vaasa border went further south, in search of a priestess of Ezra, Tara Kolyana, within the reaches of Hazlan.  They heard tales of The Warnings of the Predecessors.  This was another prophecy created by worshipers within Hazlan, dealing a forbidden and ancient ruin that was unearthed through mysterious means. It tells of a Walking Nightmare that will consume life, if not stopped.  These things replace the living with foul specters born of bad dreams.  Kolyana, still scarred by her encounter in Barovia, has attempted to remain composed in her duties.  She senses as much doom as much of her clergy members, one that she fears will bring her back to the Dark Count’s Castle once again.  Rather than falling to the madness like the rest of her church, she has slowly been letting fear get to her instead.  It is a fear of not only the Waking Nightmare, but of Count Strahd Von Zarovich.

Meanwhile, Barovia contends with problems of its own.  The tides of revolution have stormed both Barovia and Invidia.  Claims of Duke Gundar’s return seem backed by fact.  Despite the aggression that Count Strahd Von Zarovich and Malocchio Aderre feel towards each other, they begin to question whether or not Gundar proves a greater threat.  Strahd learns of Gabrielle Aderre and attempts to use her as a bargaining chip to extort Invidia’s ruler.  Strahd’s plan is simple, ensure that Gabrielle returns to Malocchio’s lair in exchange for expanding Malocchio’s military pact to Barovia.  The Leader of Invidia pretended to obliege, only to backstab the Barovians on the fields of battle.  More Barovian forces assembled and ready the march onto Castle Hunadora, ready to slay any Invidians in their way.  What they don’t expect is that Gundar knows this and plots accordingly.  A four way battle between Invidia’s bolstered armies, Barovian fleets, Gundarakite loyalists and Gabrielle’s faltering henchmen engage in combat for the castle.  Such a battle is sure to sway much of the fate for the future of The Core itself!  The forces of Darkon have become greatly invested in this, hoping to set a new prophecy in motion to destroy the core and end the reign of the mists!  Should all go well, Azalin shall not only enact his wrath upon Oerth, but ascend into a far higher power.  Hearing rumors of the silence of Vecna, from his ultroloth “partner”, he is assured that victory will be his at long last.

Other Clusters beyond the core quake in fear of what is to come.  The Strings Player has supernaturally found the confidence to spread a message to the masses, those not of the Appleklein Mountains must go.  Likewise, the loss of several neighborhood children has lead a huge mob lead by outside paladins to storm and destroy the wax studio within Glensburough once and for all.  By some mystery, the Azcan assassin has escaped her island and seeks to bring her endless assault to new lands.  And that’s just Fell Crafts.  The Broken Cog cluster continues to be divided and aggressive within each territory.  All of them know that war will break out soon, it’s just a matter of whose foolish enough to take the first shot.  Everyone stock piles on weaponry, especially on the new and experimental kinds only given the most basic of tests.  But, none of these have failed the anomalies that have begun to shock The Core to its very center, Shadow Domains.  These were already an issue before, strange paradoxes that exist beyond the demiplane’s already subjective space and time.  But, these anomalies have become more numerous.  Many claim to have seen Bleutspur, Markovia, G’Henna, The Nightmare Lands and others in their old locations.  Likewise, some claim that Arak has resurfaced on the core and the Shadow Rift is no more.  All of this points to another prophecy nearing truth.

So far, all of this is future.  But, it is only a matter of times before these things are likely to come to pass.



IMAGE CREDITS: TSR Team – Azalin; Thief the Dark Project – Karath-Din; Cyril Walter Hodges – Globe Theatre; Giovanni Ventaloro – Mangiafuoco; Tony Di’Terlizzi – Yugoloths; Silicon Knights – The Darkness Comes


Author: Doctor Necrotic

Hobbyist, amateur writer/screenwriter, wannabe-philosopher, music fan, history lover, cinemaphile, gamer, reviewer, and more. I'm a 30 year old hodgepodge of jobs and interests. My current projects on WordPress creating a wide variety of content for various tabletop roleplaying games, even showcasing published content here as well. When I have the time, I also create editorials and reviews spanning various bits of popular culture. I hope you take a moment to check my content out and maybe tell me what you think.

One thought on “More Words in The Mists”

  1. So Maligno goes full Pinnochio, only to get chained in the attic. An evil “boy” and an evil man, stuck with each other. Its only a matter of time before Mangiafuco learns to make donkey-boy broken ones.
    Another out of the way darklord gets a chance at happiness only to have it snatched away.
    And in the core, chaos erupts! Duke Gundar seems to be gaining ground by the second, while Strahd is made a fool of by a demonic man-child and a former sideshow prop. Poor show Strahd. Meanwhile, the time of ending draws near as the Ezran church goes full revelations-visions on everyone. I’m genuinly curious as to what the walking nightmare could be. Cause between the Nightmare Court, The Old Ones, Gwydion, Baby Vecna, the False Oinoloth, and all the other stuff, it really could be anything.
    And of course, as predicted, Azalin didn’t learn a single thing. It really is like Pinky and the Brain with him. “Gee your magesty, what are we going to do tonight? The same thing we do every night: try to escape the mists!”

    Liked by 1 person

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