The Destruction of Drakonheim

The tale of Shang Ssung's ascendance

The Old Gods

There are whispers carried on the winds of forgotten places… rumors too old for scripture and too dangerous for song. They speak of Old Gods, seven beings so ancient and so vile, the world itself shudders in their memory. Older than empires, older than stars, here before the New Gods rose, before mortals carved names into the dust, they watched… and hungered.

The old places remember them.

The deep forests, the sunless caves, the black seas.

They were never banished. Just… buried. And some claim they stir.

Pray it’s only a rumor.

(April 10, 2025)

Drakonheim: Age of Power

The brainchild of DM Serious¹, Drakonheim began originally as an experimental cosmogenesis campaign. A wargame played between a suite of realmgods determined the nature of the material realm in which the campaign proper takes place.

But our focus lies entirely in the age after this great reckoning, the age of mortal affairs and ascendance—the Age of Power.

Rules & Structure

Drakonheim: Age of Power (or, from this point on, simply Drakonheim) was envisioned from the beginning as a campaign with D&D 5th Edition rules as its base. The experimental conceit was that all players would either control powerful factions or a 20th level character (the highest level in 5E). Each character or faction (which we will summarize hereafter as simply “faction”) would then roam the lands of Drakonheim pursuing its goals in an independent flow of motion that—in theory—would lead to cascading interactions.

Throughout my time, I saw what appeared to be some occasional “regular” session activity, but the majority of the game consisted of a Type II Braunstein.

Type II Braunstein

The concise definition of a Braunstein is “multiple independent actors operating in conflict under a fog of war.²” In a Type II Braunstein³, the referee outlines a consistent schedule for orders from each participant specifying how their faction will commit its resources during the upcoming “faction turn” duration.

In Drakonheim, factions would give orders on Monday. Interventions and follow-ups were common, but the expectation was that orders covered action Monday through Sunday. This implicitly and intentionally follows 1:1 time. The “fog of war” plays strongly because players only have information available to their faction’s perspective.

In a Type II, the referee identifies when mutually exclusive intentions will coincide and brings the relevant players together to resolve necessary micro-scenarios (such as a key battle or infiltration). Because factional orders naturally result in collisions of forces & circumstances, this is the core activity in the campaign.

The Fog of War

It has been said: “If no one saw it, did it happen?”

Therefore: “Post or it didn’t happen.”

— Drakonheim campaign rules

Named here in honor of its creator, the Serious Evidence, Events, & Narrative (SEEN) system defined the nature of the campaign’s fog of war. “Not SEEN? Didn’t happen.”

This rule is simple but unique. Any and every activity resulting from factional orders must have a public posting attached to it! There are obvious exceptions, such as internal administrative minutiae—but even those exceptions could be required to have a public posting if deemed relevant enough.

Aside from 1:1 time, this proved to be the most important rule in the game. Early on, players were generally not skilled at composing posts, but that improved with experience. Importantly, these posts are not publicly tagged to the players that made them; players compose a post and send it to a third-party.

A key but subtle point about SEEN rumors is they must be posted to account for activity—they need not necessarily precede the activity. From the player perspective, when giving orders we are already formulating what the downstream event might look like to the public (or how information about it could leak out). Because the outcomes are uncertain, there is a real sense of commitment—the public post has to happen whether or not things turn out the way we planned! Thus, these rumors often are injected with additional information detailing, or hinting at, the adjudicated results.

Not only is the SEEN system an efficient way to incite further gameplay, it automatically produces a running record of campaign activity. Each post is a record of something that actually happened in the campaign—not just some storyteller fluff. We will see plenty of examples of this ahead.

Special Rules

Drakonheim—the land—has a special network of keystones. Each keystone has a unique name, such as “Ondine Crystalline Stream” or “Obsidian Chthonic Point” or “Mare Lumina Gateway.” Faction players begin knowing the names only of local keystones!

This detail had a major impact for two reasons. First, the campaign had restrictions on teleportation-type spells; generally their range was damped to nearly nothing. Second, one could travel directly from any keystone to any other if one knew the unique keystone name (and could expend 500gp per person in a 10-minute ritual).

This is doubly important because the map was insanely huge.

the official Drakonheim map; each hex is 6 miles across

zooming in on the southwestern landmass for scale

Lastly, there were some nuanced changes to spells, including making extraplanar / extradimensional spaces unreliable for storing goods.

The Divine Seam

The god-orb and super-powered ultimate MacGuffin of Drakonheim was the Divine Seam. Despite this being made abundantly clear, I think no one anticipated the unbelievable power this artifact could/would summon.

(excerpts from The Divine Seam: The Campaign Begins)

The sun vanished, swallowed in an instant by a sky gone white. Then came the light—impossible, vast, rolling across the firmament like a wave of judgment. A heartbeat later, the sound: like the thunder at the center of a storm. A splitting, bone-shaking force that would have cracked reality itself.

…

And then it fell. A streak of flame, ragged and burning, trailing smoke and hues I cannot name. It fell from the heavens like a cast-out angel, arcing from above the icy northwest wastes and vanishing beyond the southern Deep Sea.

When it struck land—and surely it did, for the ground here quaked—the stars dimmed. … every mage, every priest, every seer felt as though the weave would tear itself free of our mortal frames.

None of us know what it truly is. Only that it is ancient and powerful. An artifact. And somehow, its name is clear as lightning in our minds.

The Divine Seam. All the rulers and powers of the land will want it.

Herald of the End: Shang Ssung

When invited, I had assumed the campaign would use AD&D, ACKS, or something in the vicinity. Since my mode of RPG thinking had strayed far from the play patterns of 5E, this would prove to be a considerable challenge for me—and the ways I dealt with this challenge defined my approach to the game and my factional orders.

I chose to create an “NPC” faction.

The Two-Sight Cabal

There were extensive rules for creating PCs, but there was essentially NO system for creating a faction at this early stage in the campaign. I was intrigued by (mistaken) assumptions about the SEEN system and made it a personal challenge to myself to envision a “secret” faction that could nevertheless operate in a mandatory-public-rumors environment.

Looking at the map, I thought the Underdark was an environment that certainly existed but was not at the forefront of conscious consideration. I looked into Underdark creatures and settled on the snake-like yuan-ti.

Existing rumors hinted vaguely at the threat of an impending apocalypse, suggesting I take steps to avoid it. This had the wrong effect on me, and I decided that my faction was the apocalypse threat. We would form a secret blood cult cabal of yuan-ti led by those who could hear the voices from the realms beyond.

After sharing my ideas with Serious, he suggested the cult may be aware of The Old Gods, a hidden “faction” of entities banished from this realm by its “current” gods. I was immediately intrigued! He gave me access to some secret files—rough dossiers on these Old Gods—and I took a liking to Desolith, the Lord of Ruin. He is a world-ending threat who takes the form of an incomprehensibly large, purple-hued void dragon. Here was our apocalypse!

We have a secret cabal lording over a minor town in the Underdark. How do we press our influence without tipping our hand too soon? I decided that a “face” aspect for our faction would be good—a front to interact with and spy on the overlanders.

Thus, we had the beginnings of the Two-Sight Cabal—a hierarchy of yuan-ti cult members—and the Creed of Twin Visions—a front consisting of dark-hearted servants to our evil purpose.

the product of initial brainstorming, research into 5E, and some ACKS referencing

I lined up a few things for myself in ACKS to guess at the faction’s reserves of gold and town resources, such as our big snake temple and a vast mage’s library. I gave everyone in the faction “themed” spells, which I regret because it complicated life for everyone and clashes with some non-obvious assumptions in 5E⁴.

Apocalypse When?

The Cabal wishes to summon Desolith back into Drakonheim so he can end this ridiculous experiment! But how would we manage that?

As can be guessed, 5E has little of worth to say on the subject. Since “summoning Desolith” is not only the ultimate goal but also the basis of the Cabal’s existence, I made the decision to color outside the lines to help me come up with something appropriate.

Briefly, the “Magic Research” section of ACKS II details a two-step process to casting a ritual: we must first learn the ritual, and then we must execute what we’ve learned. The first step can be envisioned as retrieving a blueprint for the ritual; mechanically, it is natural to liken it to the creation of a spell description. The second step is just following the instructions in the blueprint.

I clocked our ritual as the highest spell level possible. I worked out the necessary elements then converted the wealth requirements into 5E gold. I would need:

• 1,000,000gp (yes, a million gold) in spell components

• 1,000,000gp worth of magic research (basically, labor)

And that is just for the blueprint! In order to cast the ritual, I would need:

• 1,000,000gp in material costs to set up the ritual

• some kind of expensive, unique component

• 1,000,000gp worth of magic research to refine and finalize the ritual setup

When I relayed all this to Serious, he was in disbelief! I suspect he was concerned this seemed infeasible and might result in burnout or morale loss leading to my departure, but I assured him that needing so much gold would be a great motivating force.

I should emphasize that referring to the ACKS rules was not an infringement on the 5E magic system, nor was it meant as an extension to nor workaround for 5E’s systems. The development of the summoning ritual concept is not really about “spells” or a magic system but about defining the faction’s ultimate purpose in a way that is concrete to pursue and allows concrete interventions for denial or opposition.

Finalizing Steps

On review, I had given myself too much gold initially. Since my factional goal involved a hard-fought pursuit of wealth, this was doubly unacceptable. I proposed to “delete” a huge pile of gold and roll for some magic items instead in a process not unlike the item rolls for creating a 20th level PC.

The results:

• the infamous +1 plate armor

• a Rod of Lordly Might (a highly versatile shape-changing weapon)

• a ring of three wishes

That immediately opened up a world of possibilities.

The Long March to Ruin

Drakonheim was overwhelming at first. There was so much information on the map, dozens of rumors (and FAQs and Rules Errata and “Lore” and…) posted, Serious highlighting ongoing action nearby, and I barely understood what my faction was doing. If you’re ever in this situation, just know that it is to be expected!

The Two-Sight Cabal begins play in a modest, secret city named Darkforest beneath the hex <11.30> on the Western landmass, part of the Wolfsong Empire. Above us, the small town Wormholler. To the west, Bucket Hill. Southeast is Greyfang, a real city and potential source of the immense wealth we need, and far to the west is Wolfsong, the capital. Before we even began playing, Stonia was overrun by a huge undead army led by the infamous Shazhak the Bone Howler.

our starter neighborhood

Even that small amount of information is a lot, and each point leads to further questions. The time for analysis, I decided, was over—it was time for action.

At this point I realized my first mistake.

A Divine Start

In AD&D, the spell Divination (yes, it’s also a Divination-school spell…) is basically a treasure-finding spell.

(AD&D Players Handbook, pg. 48)
… The spell gives information regarding the relative strength of creatures in the area; whether a rich, moderate or poor treasure is there; and the relative chances for incurring the wrath of evil or good supernatural, super powerful beings if the area is invaded and attacked.

This was part of my plan to move us towards our factional goal. But in 5E, the spell is completely different—“Your magic and an offering put you in contact with a god or a god’s servants.” Bah!

I decided to turn this setback to my advantage and contact Desolith directly. An excerpt:⁵

The acrid taste of incense and snake blood fills the chamber. The crushed corpses of 66 snakes are carefully arrayed, their spines fashioning symbols of dark power.

The Oracle Councilor intones with a deep hissing, drawing the smoke and fumes into an ominous vortex with practiced, rhythmic claw-swipes. Until...

His eyes snap open as the moment strikes. “Lord of Ruin, we beseech your counsel! Your acolyte Shang Ssung, Wizard King of all the Underdark, seeks a pathway-through-ritual for your divine presence to bless the material plane once more.” …

Yes, the very first thing I did in the campaign was contact a forbidden god. I should have known this was a good omen. And he responded!

“When soul-wrought chains are torn in flame,
The Lord of Ruin shall make His claim.

But lo—through no breach may pass His Void Regime,
While yet stands the cursed Divine Seam.

Let the serpent-born cast wish and rite,
Yet Ruin waits beyond the light.

Watch the skies: when southward storms do scream,
Then breaks the watch—then flees the Seam.”

My takeaway: Desolith cannot truly re-enter Drakonheim until the Divine Seam is destroyed. He expects the Seam to move elsewhere soon, by virtue of events beyond my knowledge. I make a note to keep an eye on it, but it’s buried in the ocean—a locale steeped in difficulties for my faction. As a player, all this information is new and unfamiliar to me—the Divine Seam’s importance does not press on me. I know, however, that Shang Ssung would immediately bring this to the top of his priority list. I spiritually give an obedient nod and make a mental note to research the Seam going forward. Trust in your character!

Blood Magic

It was time to make my first wish. I knew next to nothing about the overlanders in this area (a severe downside of the nature of my faction), but I knew what I wanted to be there, and that was enough inspiration. My Undertrackers (scouts) were stationed in the overland to identify caves—particularly ones where local denizens would gather or routinely pass by. Because the hex is mostly hills, this was an easy task; we found our mark.

The Wizard King Shang Ssung brandishes his staff of lordly might as a Councilor flattens an unfurled map across the grand table. The tension in the chamber rises as the murmurs cease.

“Now, for a true demonstration of the might of the Cabal!” the Wizard King announces. “Lord Desolith will reward us for demonstrating ambition and cunning in our search for the ritual.”

He drags a scaled finger across the map, terminating with a tap at a cave in the foothills — a known haunt for the local above-ground denizens. He continues, “It is here we will make our first mark. A lure to draw in the surface dwellers. Above the soil they rule and think themselves safe, but their folly will serve our ascendance!”

He clatters the butt of his staff loudly into the rock floor, and his eyes grow cold with power as he flashes the ring of wishes, eliciting audible gasps.

“Hear my wish, gods of the planes: I desire a resplendent and rich diamond vein, natural in its appearance and constitution, to be placed at the cave on this site.” He indicates the cave, tapping the claw of his ringed digit against the map. “Some portion of the vein shall be visible to a visitor’s casual observation; it shall, in all manner, resemble a natural formation.”

“Such is my wish!”

All present hold their breath as a subtle keening rises from the ring.

(RuleOfThule)

Because we are worshippers and agents of Desolith, we are necessarily arrayed against the gods that rule over Drakonheim. When we cast wish, we are invoking our sworn enemies! And they can, of course, choose not to answer.

But Desolith was listening, and the conditions & obligations inherent to wish gave him the opportunity to show us a glimpse of true power.

As the keening from the ring sharpens to a pitch just beyond mortal range, the shadows of the council chamber seem to lean inward, drawn to the power summoned. A sudden silence follows.

Then, with a sound like tearing silk and cracking bone, a thin portal splits open just above the map. It is no ordinary gate: it is a jagged wound in space, fringed with flickers of gold, void, and violet flame. The light in the chamber dims, sucked toward the rift as if the portal were drinking it in.

The snake symbols upon the cave ground flare briefly in green and silver. The corpses that formed them begin to blacken, soften, and collapse into ash. That ash lifts upward, drawn unnaturally against gravity into the hovering gate.

Then, the gasps begin.

Without warning, some of your lesser attendants—those closest to the map—jerk and seize, eyes widening with realization and agony. Their scaled flesh begins to steam. Bones crack audibly beneath tightening skin.

One by one, their bodies disintegrate in slow, curling ribbons, each fragment of flesh, bone, and soul pulled into the hovering rift. Their forms become spirals of carbon, drawn through the map and into the distant earth, down into the marked cave.

Then, the portal folds in on itself like a closing eye. In its wake, only silence remains.

And then, a whisper, deep and alien, slithers into the ears of all present:

“From fertility of ash and blood, the greed bears fruit.”

The chamber remains still, the scent of charred scale thick in the air. On the map, the cave glows faintly—an echo of what now sleeps below it: a vein of unnaturally perfect diamonds.

(Serious)

We have created a massive diamond vein in our hex.

From this point on, I will refrain from posting full text blocks of this nature, favoring summary descriptions and excerpts.

First Rumor → First Hit

Remember SEEN. Now that we’ve given orders and had some influence on the world, we have to produce evidence of it. Here was my first modest SEEN rumor.

Miraculous Diamonds
<rumors from the hills of 11.30>

Villagers visiting a local cave stumbled onto a vein of gorgeous, perfect diamonds. News of the discovery spread like wildfire in the region, and squabbles over ownership have already begun to flare. Who will seize the untold millions from Little Pig cave?

(May 26, 2025)

Not an amazing post, but it hit the mark. Note the dramatic difference between what caused it and the final form it took. It was in composing this post that the SEEN system finally clicked into place in my mind; I could see its incredible possibilities.

Looking back, I see my inexperience come through in this post. I should have mentioned a smell of blood in the cave, distant ghostly screams heard throughout the hex, or some similar sign that this event had strange underpinnings—something that could, with the right resources committed, be understood through investigation.

---

After that, I sent teams of Creed of Twin Visions (‘CTV’ hereafter) minions out along the roads toward the nearby settlements. There were refugees from Shazhak’s attacks on Stonia. The CTV were to meet them on the road, improve CTV reputation, and take on promising candidates. Their main mission, however, was scouting—understanding what the overlanders had and what they coveted.

Eminent Procession
<along the road at 10.30, 11.30, 12.31>

In uncertain times with war at every doorstep, the denizens of the land toil and struggle. But the Creed of Twin Visions sends calls from their wagons, speaking only of the joy of The Eminence’s blessings. Warm countenances bring food, minor miracles, and promises of hope & prosperity to those who take up the Twin Visions mantle.

(May 26, 2025)

---

It was not even 24 hours before the diamonds had their desired impact. An Ancient Green Dragon named Korthrak showed up and claimed the diamonds, and the whole hex, for his own.

The Withering Gale
<11.30>

Word is spreading fast from the territory of Wolfsong: the ancient green dragon known as Korthrak the Withering Gale has emerged from the mists—and he’s coming to claim the recently-discovered diamond mine in the forested hills of hex 11.30.

Locals say that the mine lies deep within the territory once ruled by Korthrak in ages past, when even the elves dared not name the woods aloud. Now, with veins of glittering stone exposed by recent seismic shifts, the Withering Gale stirs again—not for hunger, but for sovereignty.

The people whisper of dark creatures moving in the dragon’s direction. Unnatural fogs gather in the valleys, and birds have stopped singing in a dozen glades.

A message was found scrawled in charcoal on a ruined milestone, in goblin:

“The Wyrm remembers.”

(May 26, 2025)

To this day, I still have no idea who sent this message or who was playing Korthrak! That’s the magic of SEEN. This guy showed up and set up a new lair directly in the hex on a mountain-top about a mile from Little Pig Cave.

Desolith Commands, Shang Ssung Obeys

Korthrak brought a horde of goblins and some hobgoblin captains, along with support units like worg riders and, alarmingly, bat riders. When I say a horde, I mean it!

• 400 “normal” goblins

• 100 goblin bat riders

• 100 goblin worg riders

• 50 hobgoblins

• 20 ogres

And these are just the ones centered around Little Pig Cave where the diamond vein is exposed. Goblins are harassing the locals and ruining the scenery in all the nearby settlements. The CTV were loudly condemning them and using the opportunity to gain followers and solidify their reputation as a caring & charitable faction devoted to uplifting the everyday denizen.

I contacted Desolith directly, asking about Korthrak’s weaknesses because I was planning an attack on the camp by the cave. He responded!

“Korthrak. Scaled Glutton. Rooted in Greed.
He serves no master. His path is not yet conquest, but consumption.
Yet he wears cleverness like old armor.

He is warded by pride and the silence of slaves.
He is moved by fear of loss.
He builds nothing now that does not gild his own hoard.

Strike not just his soldiers. Strike his certainty.
Salt the roots of his gold. Let him taste ruin before the fall.”

My takeaway: “You’re a snake. Act like it!” Message received!

Undertrackers watching the overland hex noted a continuous procession of incoming goblinoid crews carrying sacks of treasure up to the dragon’s new lair. Following the trail backwards, we found the location of his old lair… and immediately planned an assault on it. It’s located in <10.32>, southwest of our home hex at <11.30>.

Timing was crucial because each hour, another procession would arrive—the hoard at the old lair would empty out if we didn’t act fast. Luckily, the roads in the region are already dense with sightings of Creed of Twin Visions wagons. We plan a deployment of 11 disguised wagons filled with troops.

The Trail to the Lair

Undertrackers reported hourly parties consisting of a dozen goblins, a hobgoblin, and an ogre carrying sacks of coins. Wyverns scouted the air, watching the parties leave the mountain, and a bugbear—a druid, by description—was also spotted lingering near the lair entrance.

Before reaching the narrow mountain trail that led up to the lair, one of these treasure-carrying groups came upon our caravan. No doubt it appeared out of place and represented easy pickings, but each wagon was stationed with two spears + two crossbows mounted on each side. In addition, the CTV minion at the lead cart was fearless like an insane person, and he threatened the goblinoid party with divine destruction if they so much as laid eyes on his caravan. The hobgoblin leader was surly, but he commanded the party to move on.

This would later concretely establish the guilt of the CTV in thieving the dragon’s lair.

As the caravan neared the mountain, the wyverns were disturbed. Shang Ssung attempted to cast Scrying at the bugbear druid with no success. No doubt the wyverns could “speak” to the druid and would report what they saw. When they returned to the lair to give their report of a caravan slowly rolling up the mountain trail, we implemented our plan.

Snakes and Shadows

The wyverns would have seen only humans bearing spears (or nothing) and simple robes. But our Two-Sight Priests, hidden from view within the shelter of the wagons, summoned 8 Shadow Spirits, who were commanded to dash up the mountain and attack anything that moved, especially a bugbear! Meanwhile, the real threat—Fang Wardens and Bone Nagas—dismounted from the wagons and marched at best speed.

The Shadow Spirits were extremely fast. Their forward deployment was intended to prevent nasty preparations from being put in place while also buying time for the soldiery to arrive. As it turned out, they did great work.

They sped up the mountain and, gaining initiative, slammed right into the bugbear (the only target that was on the ground!), dealing some initial damage and tying him up in melee. He cast Entangle, which was a very strong move that would ordinarily have saved him. His spell DCs were so high that all 8 Shadow Spirits were restrained (basically tied up in vines). Now the wyvern was attacking restrained targets, shooting fish in a barrel. At this rate, they wouldn’t last long!

But on their next turn, they don’t attempt to escape their restraints. Instead, they give a dreadful scream. It was enough! The druid and wyvern failed their saves and became frightened. Our distractions were all restrained, but their opposition was overcome with fear. This was the perfect time-wasting outcome we needed.

Time passes. Our soldiery advanced, spilling into the lair entrance. The druid had turned into a giant scorpion. He ambushed the initial assault party with Ice Storm, dealing devastating damage and killing several CTV minions outright. However, he did not make his saves against our Hold Person spam, and we put him down—the wyverns flew off with but an arrow or two of damage.

“He was about to vanish through a portal made in a tree... when he was paralyzed by snake magic. And then cut down.”

— Serious

Salt the Roots of his Gold

Our first successful op! We had overprepared for this haul—it was “only” 79,000gp, about 1,600lb since we are using proper encumbrance rules. That’s only 5 of the 22 chests we brought! With our distribution of forces, we manage to store gold in bags and haul the bags to the chests in about 30 minutes.

The druid had some potions of invisibility and speed—these would prove useful to Shang Ssung later.

On our way back to Darkforest, all the elements of our plan sang together in harmony.

Not only did we allow a goblinoid party to directly witness the caravan heading towards the mountain.

Not only had we publicly condemned and threatened the goblins and their leader with divine justice, in the voice of the Creed of Twin Visions.

We slaughtered every party of treasure carriers making their way back to the mountain, stealing the corpses of the ogres and hobgoblins as we trampled the rest with a column of wagons.

The dragon would be humiliated, defeated, and out 79k gold and a prized lieutenant.

---

Trail of Smears
<10.32, 11.31>

Local hunters in the mountains and forests southwest of Wormholler tell of recent tracks: deep blood-filled ruts from a column of wagons. Along the trail, goblin carcasses casually tossed aside invite murmurs of the Creed of Twin Visions and their wrathful god, The Eminence.

(June 4, 2025)

We have a little fun in Drakonheim, too. It’s not all deadly-serious roleplay.

From this point on, I will refrain from highly detailed breakdowns of each operation. This initial example is quite typical of Drakonheim gameplay.

Many, many threads in faction play lead to dead ends or have no lasting impact—for example, we might follow up on something too late and find only that all opportunity is past. A great deal of activity in Drakonheim is scouting and general information-gathering. In what follows, I will focus on well-developed threads of action and how they played a major role in the ascendance of Shang Ssung and the Cabal.

---

Rage and Retaliation

Korthrak had been dealt a serious blow, not only to his reserves and his pride, but to his reputation as well.

The dragon found out about your raid. There is a lot of screeching and roaring. Goblins running scared. Dead goblins crushed by claws or fried by clouds of poison.

— Serious

The dragon performs several enraged fly-bys over nearby towns—specifically the towns where the CTV has teams of wagons assembling volunteers and gathering information.

Across multiple attacks, he slew a large number CTV minions in his rage. Some CTV members have special spells that help them survive situations like this—namely Rope Trick and Gaseous Form. They noticed the dragon was looking intently for something, overturning wagons to find the treasure stolen from him.

As already pointed out, CTV wagons were all along the road. Their wheel ruts were in every conceivable path and direction. The assault on the abandoned lair being conveyed by a wagon train was meant to hide the ultimate destination of the treasure—Darkforest itself.

Condemnation of Korthrak, the Withering Gale
<10.30>

A resounding voice cries out from the wagons of the Creed of Twin Visions, “The cowardly dragon Korthrak, the Withering Smell, the Stench of the Sky, has fruitlessly murdered innocents, first at Wormholler and now at Bucket Hill.”

“My brothers made the ultimate sacrifice in their efforts to feed and guard the innocent against the whims of such low beasts. May the Eminence bathe the beast, at long last, in a flood of cleansing water.”

The wagons of the Creed gather ever more refugees fleeing violent attacks from monsters. Some bring news and insight, and it said that the Creed provides information to adventurers about the dragon, for no fee.

(June 24, 2025)

For reasons no one could possibly anticipate, this post will later make the CTV appear suspiciously as if they indeed have godlike power.

Shang Ssung the Dragonsbane

The pain that Korthrak experienced was but a prelude. I had, by this time, begun to more fully embody Shang Ssung; I had gained a much more sophisticated understanding of his character and his perspective on the overlanders, Lord Desolith, and the pursuit of the summoning ritual.

When I thought of Korthrak, I thought of him as The Victim—as Osiris, brutalized and cut into thousands of pieces. He was the broken glass beneath my serpentine boot, and I loved the sound. Despite his great power and despite Shang Ssung being relatively weak (only a Challenge Rating 12 in 5E’s system), I laughed when I thought how defenseless he really was against our machinations.

Things were happening with the Divine Seam, but Shang Ssung had summoned a tiger to his home—and it was time to ride it.

Securing a Position

The Underdark is a brutal realm of struggle. It is not the kind of place from which one carries out fragile plots. We needed assurances and a more layered home defense.

To this end, Shang Ssung’s representatives met—over the course of several weeks—with other inhabitants of the Underdark. Two major targets resolved: the drow and the duergar.

The deal offered was aimed at creating a mercantile alliance, centered on a proposed diamond mine—we were going to dig into the diamond vein from below. The full details of the deal were complex, intertwining economic and trade considerations, wages for labor and expertise at the mine, and so on.

These factions were all NPC at the time; thus, we handled negotiations with simple AD&D reaction rolls. The duergar were decidedly uninterested, but the drow were enthusiastic. A 50/50 split of refined diamonds by weight, and both parties would offer security forces? It was a deal they couldn’t accept fast enough.

This would create a situation where the drow were economically dependent on Darkforest. What might have been dangerous potential rivals in the Underdark became allies in all but name. We could focus our full attention elsewhere, and this boring trade deal would become a critical factor in our ability to make aggressive moves on the map.

In a similarly boring—but eventually freeing—move, we spent our second wish on the Clone spell. If Shang Ssung died, his soul would be captured by a clone body in a pod. The clone would not be ready until late September (120 days), but it would embolden our steps after that time!

The Goblinoid Mining Camp

We watched the camp outside Little Pig Cave to plan a combined assault and burglary.

It was a surprisingly organized and elaborate operation for goblinoids.

Hobgoblin overseers cracked the whip, while goblins and ogres did the backbreaking works. Aside from some shamans molding the earth to reveal further diamonds, it was a primitive, brutish, and ugly industry. No doubt countless diamonds were ruined by blockheaded pickaxe-swings or stolen by goblin sifters.

The only real skill present in the camp could be found in the gemcutters’ tent.

The most challenging aspect of this camp was that it was very well scouted. Worg riders and bat riders were frequent, and they could sense even the most subtle of invisible Undertrackers by scent or motion.

Bite the Hand That Feeds

We identified an Underdark entrance, infrequently used, near enough to the gemcutter’s tent to mount a surprise assault, bypassing an hour or more of surveillance time. We organized a stupendously strong force, with the concern that Korthrak himself may be closer nearby than his lair.

The plan was simple: a wave of Bone Nagas would cut a swathe through and beyond the gemcutters’ tent. They would create a forward “line” of mayhem, behind which Undertrackers would sweep through the tents and steal the finished gems. A defense force was stationed near the cave to cover the looters’ escape. Put simply, we would steal the gems that Korthrak so nicely prepared for us and also bleed his forces and personnel.

They were totally unprepared for our arrival.

Your forces burst out of the tunnel on a moonlit night. You can see the smithy aglow nearby, and there is light coming from the gemcutters’ tent where you assume some hapless (but skilled) slaves are eyeing and cutting raw diamonds.

Around the place are several drowsy-looking goblins set as guards, clearly unhappy to be working under these conditions. A few are on worgs, who also look rather bored.

There is a steady line of goblins (with a few ogres here and there) marching from Little Pig Cave with sacks of rocks to dump into piles near a stream where they are sorted and washed.

Some of the goblins nearest you look up in disbelief, confused as if they were working through the split decision to sound an alarm or not. You believe you have achieved near total surprise.

—Serious

A bloodbath ensued. Darkforest forces worked with mechanical precision. Shang Ssung travelled only with Cabal members—loyal unto death, devoted to the mission, and competent—and their undead puppets, the Bone Nagas.

We were a machine that ground goblins into crimson piles. The chaos alone unanchored the entire operation, but the Bone Nagas struck down everything that moved—especially things that ran away. The casualties piled up, and the Undertrackers stole into the tents behind the serpentine wave of brutality.

Inside the tent there are a handful of disheveled humans with magnifying glasses and cutting tools who look on in a mix of horror and hope as their goblin taskmasters are cut down. Near their tables are several small pouches of cut diamonds. In the corner is a crate with washed and processed raw stones ready for cutting.

— Serious

The Undertrackers report what they see to Shang Ssung, and he gives orders to abscond with the prisoners as well. Along with the diamonds, the prisoners are hauled, unceremoniously, deep into the horror-drenched Underdark.

It is not long before a fierce roar is heard in the distance, rising above the din of bloodshed. The withdrawal is called, and we slither our way—in a systematic and disciplined covered retreat—back into the Underdark.

Some time after escaping, you hear a thundering voice echo through the tunnels, fierce with anger and contempt.

“Run and hide, worms that you are! These tunnels will become your tombs!” This is followed by a howling blast of corrosive poison wind that rips through the confines of the tunnels. Your rear units barely escape, but the air is acrid and stings the lungs.

“RUN AND HIDE!” comes a final, deafening bellow.

Imagine a snake laughing uncontrollably.

---

Plunder at Little Pig Cave
<11.30>

A torrent of scales brought chaos and murder at Little Pig Cave. Led by a dark yuan-ti sorcerer, a large force of nagas erupted from the underground near the diamond mining operation. The cowardly night attack left the degree of carnage unclear, but the grim gasps of goblins and the death-whine of worgs punctuate the inexorable truth: evil begets evil. The sinister snakes slithered away to parts unknown, most likely back to the foul abyss from which they spawned.

—Brother Shober, Attendant of the Creed of Twin Visions & watcher over Wormholler

(July 10, 2025)

Counting Our Spoils

We return to Darkforest with prisoners and diamonds. I invite the Drow diplomat to observe as we sort, weigh, and value our spoils. This shows we are not afraid of challenging the dragon and also that the prospect of the diamonds is very real. This move solidifies our influence over the drow.

The spoils add up to 45,000gp of diamonds, once cleaned and cut. This was gathered over two weeks, representing a value of over 20,000gp per week—and that’s with the primitive, uncareful techniques of goblinoids!

Meanwhile, the prisoners are being interviewed by Oracle Councilors.

The prisoners are all craftsmen taken from Bucket Hill or Greyfang. They were captured by goblins, dragged or carried with sacks over their heads, and thrown into the camp you raided. The hobgoblins saw that they were treated better than most of the goblins, and one gemcutter was made an example when he didn’t work fast enough—one of his legs was hamstrung.

—Serious

The gemcutter prisoners are all Wolfsong denizens, coerced into working for the dragon. It is not long before we convince them to work for us. In Darkforest, they are safe from the dragon’s rage, and they can live lavishly—so long as they are loyal.

The dragon has been confronted with his strategic helplessness against us. It is not long before he is posting anonymous pleas for assistance.

Bloody Killers Needed
<10.30>

Can you seek and destroy underground? Inquire near Bucket Hill (10.30).

(July 9, 2025)

If you can exterminate snakes in holes you could make hundreds of thousands of gold.

(addendum, July 28)

Machinations of the Creed

During all this action, the Creed of Twin Visions (CTV) was at work. Shang Ssung’s character had become clarified for me. Now that things were moving forward with Korthrak, I turned my attention to the CTV and their role in the Cabal’s master scheme.

Following outlines of some 5E systems, I created a carousing-like system to turn the efforts of CTV teams into concrete elements, as opposed to vague “information gathering.” It is presumed that the Creed gathered many hapless followers, ready to do laundry or feed the ill or so on. Their presence was irrelevant.

The true goals of the Creed missions were:

• New Hands: dark-hearted individuals who could be inducted into the service of Shang Ssung. Over time, these would be mentored and taught the dark magics available to the Creed, according to their talents.

• Allied contacts: in-roads with influential denizens. These would be aristocrats, merchants, nobles, and other men who could press influence within a city.

our overzealous, overengineered system presented in two tables

By July 15th, for example, the Creed had managed the following, in addition to some New Hands:

ALLIED CONTACTS

• 3 Middle (Greyfang)

• 4 Lower (Greyfang)

• 4 Lower (Wormholler)

• 1 Lower (Bucket Hill [former])

SUSPICION

• Hostile Snooper (Little Pig Cave [Lower])

• Rumors spread (Greyfang [Middle])

• Rumors spread (Greyfang [Middle])

Most of this went nowhere in particular or had only minor effects, but our contacts would eventually pile up. We made our first big political move above-ground: the Creed of Twin Visions successfully petitioned the Wolfsong Empire to let them rebuild Stonia. This would make the CTV the de facto rulers over Stonia, a major empire settlement!

The Korthrak Truther Movement

On July 28, the dragon’s tendrils finally reach us.

Your snake men capture a small group of goblin scouts snooping around in the tunnels.

Goblins in the Underdark—what comedy! They were lucky to be captured by us.

When escorted back to Darkforest, we pulled the leader aside into a banquet hall. There, a Twin-Sight Saint of the CTV and several others (humans) attended a pleasant meal. No doubt the goblin scout leader assumed he would soon be killed, but they worked their Charm Person and Suggestion powers on him, encouraging him to eat and talk—a nice dinner to contrast his otherwise-inevitable fate of facing an angry dragon to report failure.

He had much to say.

After a little soul searching, the goblin realizes he would actually rather live than die in agony.

His tribe, he says, is one of several that owes allegiance to the Withering Gale, based on many years of goblin oral tradition. His mission is to find where the snake men live and report back about the “spineless snakes.”

He tells what little he knows about the dragon’s assets—far less than you already know—and that he has heard rumors that the dragon is seeking help elsewhere. The tribes are also sending messengers to ask the help of other faraway goblin tribes—some as far as the Eastern Lands.

He remarks that no one has been allowed inside the dragon’s lair, and that he’s heard the dragon is furious all the time and is determined to make his lair a death trap for any intruders.

—Serious

Note how the Lord of Ruin is proved absolutely correct once again. Hearing of the goblin’s comment about the indentured servitude of tribes set Shang Ssung’s eyes a-light with mischief. He sent detailed instructions to the Twin-Sight Saint (TSS).

After dinner, the goblin leader—and several of his scouting crew—are taken on a tour of Darkforest. The TSS asked questions about the link between Korthrak and the goblin tribes. How do they recognize Korthrak? What are the actions he took historically? And so on.

The answers the goblins gave were irrelevant—the aim was simply to sow doubt and to insinuate that the tantrum-throwing Korthrak overseeing the mine was a pretender! Yes, yes; the real Korthrak has yet to return, and sleeps through this age!

The reason these goblins are still alive and walking through Darkforest, so the TSS tells them, is because their loyalty to the True Korthrak has been noted! Indeed, the lord of Darkforest, the Wizard King of all the Underdark, is a faithful servant of the True Korthrak, after all, and wishes to depose this weak, broke upstart dragon!

Whether through serpentine wiles or simple Stockholm syndrome, the goblins began to assertively line up behind this narrative. Of course this fuming child-dragon could not be the mighty Withering Gale!

We equipped the goblins with a lavish array of finery, including jewels, weapons, and trinkets. For his loyal service, the leader received a “blessed” mitre, a fine cape, and a dragon-shaped scepter. We escorted these intrepid Korthrak Truthers out of the Underdark and gave them (relatively) large sums of gold and wagons. They were directed to spread their newfound wealth and truth to their tribes.

To this day, I am uncertain if this had the desired effect. But perhaps, oddly, Shang Ssung had created the conditions for the first independent goblin tribes.

Clearing Stonia

We plan a direct assault on Stonia, timed so that we would emerge from the Underdark after dusk. This gave us a full night to clear the town of the undead presence that scouts have reported.

all travel in Drakonheim is carefully calculated and accounted for

While the assault was taking place, the CTV were celebrating and drumming up publicity for the Stonia rebuild in Greyfang. They were making a show of putting wagons of supplies together—and trying to gather more volunteers and refugees interested in rebuilding.

As night fell, Shang Ssung arrived at Stonia with a small, elite fighting force.

There is a heavy stench of death. Mutilated zombies roam around in the burned out buildings.

We had plenty of time. Shang Ssung’s force methodically swept through each area. Undertrackers would creep into each building to spy, and the assault force would clear anything they spotted.

There was a nest of ghouls lead by a ghast in the cellars of a large house. Because we are all immune to poison, we were unafraid of the ghast’s debilitating aura. We cleared the cellar out and saw that the ghouls had been digging tunnels. These tunnels would have connected locations all throughout Stonia and its outskirts, but only one was actually completely dug out. It led to the roots of a large tree in the nearby forest. The location was marked for the CTV headquarters.

The ghouls had hoarded piles of junk and trinkets—pens, dolls, figurines, and other miscellaneous items. Sifting through the hoard, however, revealed a Mace of Smiting, a Sword of Vengeance, and a Meteor Swarm scroll! Someone with a plan had made a misstep and unintentionally left us gifts.

Violent Beginnings: Rebuilding Stonia
<Stonia (14.33)>

As the first supply wagons pull into the ruins of Stonia, the signs of great carnage catch the eye. The viscera of undead ghouls lies strewn about, and the seeming footfalls of monstrous warriors is juxtaposed with meek monks praying over the thresholds of demolished structures.

It is unclear how, but the Creed of Twin Visions has managed to wipe the undead scourge away—the volunteers disembarking from the caravan are put immediately to work!

(July 31, 2025)

---

An Investigator at Little Pig Cave

At the same time the operation to clear Stonia was under way, we had a visitor.

Your Undertrackers watching the mine at Little Pig Cave see a hooded man outside the tunnel you used to attack the goblin camp. He had a snake on his shoulder that turned into a bat and went down into the cave—but never came up. He seemed to be talking to someone who your Undertracker could not see.

—Serious (July 29th)

Note how this happens the day after Korthrak’s escalation on his plea for exterminators. The SEEN system is very effective at getting things moving, if you know how to use it.

By the time Shang Ssung returned to Darkforest, word had spread that a Spirit Naga’s lair had been invaded by a couatl, resulting in the couatl’s demise. Overlanders gonna overland.

The hooded man lingered near the goblin camps, though he demonstrated no interest in the goblins. He appeared to be waiting for some sign or signal. Shang Ssung sent instructions: an Undertracker would go invisible and risk running into the camp. He would drop a note, in a conspicuous manner, beside the hooded man. The note read:

Meet me at Moon’s Rock under the moonlight.

This was a landmark known to the local townspeople, a grove-like clearing with a tiny monolith. If the hooded man was intelligent enough, he could find out where this was with ease.

A patrol of twenty Bone Nagas, a Fang Warden officer, and a Two-Sight Priest would be waiting at the monolith after dark. They would greet the hooded man and, if he wished, escort him directly to Darkforest so that nothing foul would find him. Along the way, the Priest would ask his intentions and attempt to turn him against the dragon.

Serious straightforwardly warned me this was a dangerous course of action.⁶

You’re going to take him right to you? Bold. You are aware most PCs are level 20?

(on another occasion) You might be surprised at how strong level 20 casters can be.

—Serious

But, after all my experiences and attempts to understand Shang Ssung, I knew this was the #EliteLevel snake move—to confuse our foes and have them do our bidding! Shang Ssung is the strongest member of the Cabal by far, and he is only CR 12—but a snake does not confront a problem head-on.

I would show the hooded man the slaves we spared and let him hear their testimony from their own mouths. He would hear of the goblins we sent away as allies, rather than killing. He would see the drow lining up behind us as reliable allies.

I would strike a deal with him where we both gain by undermining the dragon.

Me: And if he tries something untoward, he will get to make a new character and reflect on his choices.

Developments in Darkforest

By this time, the Cabal had accumulated approximately 300,000gp from various efforts. Half our gains were always spent immediately on compiling the material components necessary for the first stage of our plan—the blueprint ritual. For the remaining gold, our plans were less concrete at first.

At the beginning of the campaign, I was uncertain of what to do and how to do it; we made many small maneuvers that resulted in nothing significant. However, any win was leveraged into future actions, no matter how irrelevant or marginal it seemed—we would eventually compile ourselves a pathway to victory.

Eventually, I came to realize that our mage’s library—located in our grand snake temple—was not only the highest tier library in the continent, it may have been the greatest in all of Drakonheim. With this new appreciation, Shang Ssung went to work on an ambitious project: a magical poison.

One interesting thing about our rivalry with Korthrak is our similarities: he is an Ancient Green Dragon, and we are yuan-ti. From a battlefield standpoint, he is immune to most of our tricks (poison damage and the poisoned condition), but we are also immune to his most dangerous weapon—his poison breath.

Poison Beyond Poison

For a long time, I had considered how to work around this systemic stalemate. I envisioned a poison that somehow bypassed poison immunity. How would that work? Consider that poison immunity is a physical phenomenon—it is granted to creatures based on their physiological nature. But a poison that existed in the ethereal plane could bypass their physical immunities like a ghost’s touch.

I needed to tread carefully with this. Unlike the thematic design for our factional summoning ritual, a magical research project needs to live firmly within the systems of 5E. Otherwise, we are violating the level playing field of the agreed-upon ruleset—regardless of roleplaying considerations, this is unsportsmanlike in a club arena.

We needed some precedent, crafting and/or research systems to lean on, a fallback in case we created something unfair/unacceptable on reflection, and direct referee oversight to proceed judiciously with this project.

The Phase Spider can jaunt between the Ethereal and Material planes at will. It also has a poison that inflicts the poisoned condition as well as potentially paralyzing the target. The magic item crafting rules in XGE allow us to specify the cost of crafting a magic item based on its rarity, with the added necessity of a monstrous ingredient. A Legendary-rarity poison would cost upwards of 120k⁷ just to produce.

I would spare the details, but this accidentally became one of the most important items in the campaign.

Forged from the essence of an (inferred) Elder Phase Spider, we eventually produced the Desolation poison.

Desolation poison (legendary) [1 vial]

This poison was made by a power deep in the Underdark. The green-black liquid shifts in appearance, cycling between opaque and translucent. It rapidly dissolves when removed from its vial. It is unusually potent, ignoring poison immunities and resistances.

A creature subjected to the poison is placed on the Desolation Condition Track and must immediately succeed on a DC 20 Wild Saving Throw or move further down the track. Each round thereafter, the creature must succeed on another DC 20 Wild Saving Throw or move one step down the track. After 5 such saving throws, movement down the track ceases. The creature can attempt a DC 20 Wild Saving Throw to move back up the track (eventually reaching the ‘normal’ condition), at a rate of one saving throw per round.

Desolation Condition Track: A sequence of worsening conditions maps out the poison’s potential gestational threat — [normal/none → poisoned → blind → stunned → paralyzed]. Each time you fail a saving throw against the poison, move one step further down the track.

Wild Saving Throw: Roll 1d6 to determine the defending attribute of this saving throw (1 - STR, 2 - DEX, 3 - CON, 4 - INT, 5 - WIS, 6 - CHA).

I cannot fully articulate the aesthetic and thematic appeal of this poison. It is not the boring alpha-strike of a Meteor Swarm nor an overpowered save or die. And yet, for its juiciest targets—things like golems and other poison-immune creatures—it is a devastating master-stroke. It is perfect for the cruel assassin who wants his enemies to begin dazed & floundering and end up in total despair, waiting for the last kiss of the knife.

For a snake-man, this is perfection.

Redirecting the Dragon’s Hitman

The hooded man finds his way to the landmark after dark. Looks like the meeting is on.

—Serious (August 1, 2025)

Our opportunity had arrived. We were about to enact our riskiest gambit thus far. We were meeting with a mage hired to kill us, potentially escorting him directly to our (somewhat) hidden city and to meet with our CR 12 leader—who the killer no doubt could eliminate on a whim!

Thanks to the curse of technology, this player and I “met” by passing messages back & forth anonymously through a third-party message daemon. I still have no clue who the player was!

To give an accurate impression to the reader, I will—just this once—relay some portions of the conversation in detail.

(Him)
A man shows up at Moon’s Rock at night. He approaches cautiously. If nobody seems to be present, he sits at the rock in wait.

(Me)
You hear a voice speak as a figure emerges from the brush.

Do not be alarmed. We have come on a journey of great danger and are armed for defense. You are the one interested in the tunnels, yes?

(Him)
You could say I have a vested interest in the tunnels, yes. And what of you? What is your interest in the tunnels? Are you the one who dispatched my familiar? Show yourself and let us talk face to face.

We turn the talk friendly, saying that the Underdark is a dangerous place and we know not what happened to his familiar. In addition to some counter-questions, we offer to escort him directly to Darkforest to speak with “the King,” and he agrees.

(Him)
I was indeed sent by the dragon, but I have no loyalty to him. I will aid whoever best aligns with my goals. As such, I am more than happy to meet your king and speak with him on the matter. Should his proposal be appealing, I would be glad to aid you against the dragon instead, or whatever other aid you require.

(Me)
The yuan-ti’s face deforms in a reptilian smile.

The King has chosen wisely, for your spirit is kindred with ours in this way.

Ssab Tsero⁸ beckons with his hand, and a large troop of bone nagas slither out of the brush, led by a dark yuan-ti warrior. They march past, headed for a nearby hill.

They will assure our safe arrival; we will follow behind at our leisure. What shall I call you, Hooded One?

(Him)
For now, feel free to refer to me as The Void. That is the moniker most would know me by. …

The conversation is very polite. He tells us how he came by the dragon and asks our view on various things.

(Me) — (Ssab Tsero)
…As for the dragon, we do not worry over his fate. A True Dragon, Highest of His Kind, looks unkindly down on Korthrak; his ultimate fate is surely horrific beyond imagining. However, for the time being, the dragon defies the King’s claim over the diamonds. Produced from his own power, those diamonds are slated for a great purpose, and we intend to have them.

(Him)
The dragon has offered me a great sum of money to exterminate you from these mountains. He has also requested that I update him periodically on my progress. How would you propose the deal with him be handled?

As for the dragon that looks unkindly on Korthrak, what information do you have on this? I would like to eliminate Korthrak from the board as soon as possible, should I side with you and your king as I suspect I will. [emphasis mine]

(Me)
If you must contact him, I would say it is wise to simply tell what is true! You have found us and are scouting our city. We will be there soon enough.

As for the True Dragon, I dare not speak His name until He wills it. He resides in a place beyond the beyond, and my King’s destiny coincides with His return to this realm.

If Korthrak is a thorn to you, then my lord will likely think it wise to address the problem more directly, rather than waiting for events to take their natural course.

---

(Me)
After several hours of travel, you begin to see outposts dotting the vast underrealm landscape. A city appears on the horizon, lit up against the smothering blackness.

Yuan-ti, drow, and humans inspect goods at specialized workstations. Poisons, rare gems, and components used in magic are methodically processed by practiced hands.

We arrive. This is Darkforest, the King’s primary outpost in this region.

(Him)
This is quite the settlement you have. Much more than what I had initially expected to find. …

(Me)
Purple lightning strikes the top of a serpentine temple towering over Darkforest from behind a walled keep.

He is ready for us.

Following a wave of his hand, the troop leading the way falls into formation at the flanks as Ssab Tsero moves toward the keep.

At the entrance, a great gatehouse opens. A sinister flute signals the arrival. Within the keep’s walls you see a large barracks and several workstations where human and drow gemcutters inspect caches of diamonds.

Smoke rises from an elaborate chapterhouse, and an ominous serpent temple looms above, shedding arcane vapors from its inner chambers.

A hulking, writhing mass of snakes wriggles in humanoid form, awaiting your arrival. The multi-headed mass is adorned with armor and magical artifacts and weapons; it casts a dark aura all about.

It turns to face you.

Ssab Tsero bows deeply, explaining to the mass briefly of your discussions along the way. It nods, addressing you.

Well met, traveller. I am pleased you have come to see my realm for yourself. Truth often comes at great expense, but the eyes do not lie.

We exchange greetings and pleasantries before proceeding to business.

(Me) — (Shang Ssung, “the King”)
We have a... special means of dealing with [Korthrak]. Means beyond anything in this realm. It can be prepared soon, but we have no method of delivering it to him.

With both our efforts combined, the dragon will cease to be a problem.

I propose this: we supply the means of his destruction, and you deliver it to him. We will take the diamonds from his hoard, and you can have all else. If his shares are scant, we agree to give you half his hoard, valued in gold. What say you?

(Him)
I find these terms agreeable. What are these means that you speak of?

(Me)
The mass glances up at the temple.

If all goes well, you will come to see the source of our power yourself. We have a wonder unlike any that can be found in this world.

The means is a poison beyond poison. It will take time to prepare. Once it is finished, it will make its way to you, in the form of a vial. Simply splash it against the dragon by any method, and guard yourself against it.

At the time of this conversation, the research on the Desolation poison was not complete! I did not know the form it would take; I just knew that it would be a devastating poison even to a powerful being like Korthrak. He tried to ask for more detail that I couldn’t give.

(Me)
…Its full effects are, in truth, far beyond our knowledge. Only the Highest would know with certainty.

The dragon may even laugh, thinking himself immune to poisoning, but he does not know of what lies beyond the beyond.

…When it is completed, our oracles will draw upon all their power to glean a fuller understanding, which will be relayed to you.

In the meantime, investigate our realm and “spy” for the dragon as you see fit. You are welcome in Darkforest, so long as you follow customs.

The Void seemed very pleased with our meeting, with our conversation, and with the implications of his future work with us.

Within a week, we would be looting his corpse.

Bathed in the Cleansing Waters

As Shang Ssung is reading letters from the CTV about the progress in Stonia, an Undertracker arrives with a report.

Your Undertrackers watching the goblin camp witnessed a giant eagle fly into camp carrying another man that looks vaguely like The Void. The eagle drops off the new guy, and The Void takes his place, flying off roughly southeast or east-southeast.

—Serious (August 5, 2025)

We soon receive a message.

I have urgent business to attend to. When the vial is ready, reach me at the keystone in Varak’Zul with word addressed to Master V.

There is much activity in the world at all times. The Cabal is spinning many plates already, and is at the cusp of gaining an imperial foothold and killing an Ancient Dragon. Shang Ssung decides to watch for news but considers it low-priority.

Later, disturbing reports are flooding in from Stonia. A horrific disease (Ghoul-Related Internal Decay Sickness) was apparently lingering in the area. Those who’ve been exposed for all this time are succumbing to it. The outlook is bad.

But Shang Ssung is focused on the vial in his hands—the Desolation poison, newly completed. Additional tests were needed to ensure the vial would survive the trip to—

An Undertracker rushes into the keep out of breath.

Your Undertrackers watching Little Pig Cave saw something pretty interesting.

The man who looks like The Void was waiting near the Underdark entrance by the gemcutters’ tent. He was accompanied by a giant eagle.

All of a sudden he sprang into action to create a magic shadowy door on a nearby rock face. The door immediately burst open, with an unceasing deluge of water streaming out. The lookalike somehow moved to the side in time, as did the giant eagle.

A massive storm elemental all full of saltwater, lightning and rage burst through the door’s opening. Next to him was the body of a sahuagin [note: basically a shark monster]. The lookalike and the giant eagle were very interested in the sahuagin, apparently attempting to rescue him.

But the elemental blasted them with a beam of lightning and then a pulse of thunder like a sonic boom. The lookalike disappeared, winked out of existence.

Meanwhile, the giant eagle had picked up the sahuagin’s body, which had turned into The Void, and attempted to fly off. But the elemental surged upward and swatted it out of the sky; the giant eagle then re-formed into a couatl.

It and The Void are dead.

There is massive flooding in the nearby goblin camps as the water kept pouring for about an hour. The nearby goblin camps went crazy with panic as the storm elemental cut a swath through them to the east.

—Serious (August 6, 2025)

Like I said, there’s a lot going on in the world at any given time. Locals have the advantage of being there and knowing details far beyond what everyone else sees. Compare the above to the SEEN post:

Unnatural Flood Near Little Pig Cave, Living Storm?
<Wormholler, 11.30>

A mysterious and catastrophic flood has struck the glen surrounding Little Pig Cave, northwest of Wormholler, leaving devastation in its wake and raising more questions than answers.

Sparse accounts describe a gargantuan elemental creature, resembling a roiling living storm of water, thunder, and lightning, that rose from the sudden floodwaters and tore through the region. The creature reportedly decimated multiple goblin camps in the area.

The accounts claim the water was salty, suggesting an ocean surge. Yet there is no known river or channel and the nearest sea is over 20 miles away.

After its destructive emergence, the elemental was seen drifting eastward, lightning crackling in its wake as it moved toward the Central Sea.

From his knowledge of arcana, Shang Ssung deduces the following from the account given by his Undertracker spies:

• The Void was adventuring underwater and encountered the elemental.

• The elemental’s thunder pulse causes an anti-magic surge. When underwater, mages rely on spells for their breath (and defenses etc.).

• The Void panicked and cast Demiplane to retreat to his private sanctum. However, the pressure from the ocean probably kept the door from closing. The elemental followed him or was swept inside, and the space was surely filling with water.

• At some point, The Void took on the form of a shark-beast, probably to stop himself from drowning.

• He contacted, somehow, his lookalike—a spawn of the Simulacrum spell—and had him cast Demiplane urgently. It would open another door to the same space (about 30×30×30 cubic feet; not very big!).

• The demiplane has two entrances: one opens to the ocean, and another opens to empty air above sea level. The pressure difference caused a continuous stream of water.

• Given that the shark-beast spilled out, The Void was probably unconscious already. Another anti-magic pulse from the elemental caused the simulacrum to vanish and caused The Void’s form to return to normal.

Aftermath

This was an insane turn of events. Our assassin-to-be had been slain by random misadventure. We no longer had a solid plan to kill the dragon. The Desolation poison lingered heavy on Shang Ssung’s desk.

But we would not let anyone see our misfortune—no, indeed. We would turn it to our advantage!

The dragon’s exterminator lied slain at the bottom of a new (salty) lake. His mine was rendered worthless. His workmen were thoughtlessly crushed and electrocuted.

And the Creed of Twin Visions had predicted this would come to pass! On June 24th, more than a month prior, they had predicted the flood and Korthrak’s misfortune (in a news post above).

---

A Dragon, Drowned
<Wormholler, 11.30>

“May the Eminence bathe the beast, at long last, in a flood of cleansing water.”

The Eminence has delivered His wrath on foul Korthrak once more. How many maladies must he suffer before he repents? Will he turn from his dark ways and become a champion of the imperial citizens under Wolfsong, or will he remain a frustrated tyrant over his new undersea kingdom?

—Brother Shober, Attendant of the Creed of Twin Visions & watcher over Wormholler

(August 6, 2025)

---

The goblins that might have seen what happened were surely all drowned or otherwise killed. The public SEEN post mentioned nothing about The Void or his corpse. Shang Ssung used some Water Breathing scrolls on a team of Undertrackers and sent them to recover what they could—including diamonds from the camp. The entirety of Little Pig Cave was now underwater, and the land all around the area was literally a salt-water lake!

They recovered a number of magic rings, weapons, an amulet, and various things which were brought back to the library for study. The short list is as follows:

• a ring of darkvision

• a ring of earth elemental control

• +2 studded leather

• +2 longsword

• (in a bag) a strange ring that can cast Antimagic Field once per day

• an amulet that controls an iron golem

The strange ring… unbeknownst to us, this ring was one of the most important items in the campaign—perhaps even more important than the Divine Seam. However, Shang Ssung knew the immense power and value of an iron golem and was thoroughly distracted with the task of employing this amulet.

The Speaker

A mysterious being I will call The Speaker contacted us in a “dream” while we slept. We had no idea that this was a result of the strange ring from the bag. But this, in addition to our mad devotion to the Lord of Ruin, would create a truly schizophrenic megalomaniac Shang Ssung.

A vision, a dream?

You find yourself standing at the end of a balcony, a horizon of picturesque mountains in the distance. There is a gentle, cool breeze laced with incense and spice. Nearby are a pair of golden braziers wafting with thin streams of blue smoke.

Your vantage is only a small part of a grand palace of red and gold. Looking around, banners fly bearing marks of power and prestige. As you look inside the adjacent room, you see a handsome human man sipping a clear, sweet wine. How can you know this, save for the power of dreamlike understanding?

“A newcomer in this grand game. Do you wish to stoke the flames of Ambition? I would be happy to aid you.” The man sets down his cup and stands; a wave of starlit peacock feathers unfold around him. “Please, have a seat and indulge yourself. On another night, should your spark alight, you may hold me close and dream lightly.” With that, he turns and disappears behind a pair of silken curtains.

The table is laid before you; your heart’s desire or a trap by an unknown force? Do you have the Will to fulfill your Desire?

—Serious (August 7, 2025)

Unafraid of this new development, Shang Ssung considers the possible sources of the dream. His mind moved to the amulet as the source—a powerful artifact one would not want to lose! But it was not so; The Speaker’s identity and means of messaging remained a mystery.

Perhaps the death of The Void had placed Shang Ssung, somehow, in a position to join a cosmic conspiracy of some kind. The death of a former member, perhaps, constituted an invitation to another. His maneuvers were gaining the attention of powers he did not yet understand.

He explained his dream to an Oracle Councilor. Together, they performed the Divination, asking about the sender.

The sender is as the first flame; bringing man from the caves and shadows into the light. It leads, it consumes, it forges and tempers. The skilled will harness it and the fool shall be consumed.

My takeaway: the Lord of Ruin calls Shang Ssung to grasp his destiny! I had absolutely no idea what was going on, but I was on board.

Distractions and Resolutions

Possessed by a sense of destiny, Shang Ssung formulates a possible identity of The Void (an infamous troublemaker called Caelan Voss). He was the master of a guild-like institution called ARGO in another city. Shang Ssung went there, alone, via keystone travel and found an abandoned and disused camp. He went to various places around the city while wearing the amulet, attempting to sense the possible location of the iron golem.

He had no luck and left empty-handed except for the confirmation that ARGO was truly in decline, as the reports had all said.

When he returned, there was the issue of Stonia to deal with. His CTV minions were not immune to the ghoul disease ravaging the population. He released the CTV overseers in the area, authorizing them to spend funds or magic items as rewards for bringing in healers—there were more important things for him to think about.

Luckily, a good-natured healer did come along and heal every last ill person in the city, basically, and then left without wanting a reward. The CTV made a statue in his likeness, but we never found out who he was⁹.

On August 12, there is a SEEN post describing how thieves (probably insiders) penetrated the ARGO headquarters and stole an iron golem. All our magic researchers agreed: the amulet would soon be uncoupled from the golem, if it was not already so. Unfortunate—but no one even knew we were looking for it.

Elder Phase Spider Hunt

At this point, the dragon cannot mine. The water level is (very) slowly draining, and we can see that the bottom will be naked soil—all the greenery washed away. Our own mine is still honing in on the diamonds from below, digging day after day. Our dragon assassin is dead. Our iron golem out of reach. Stonia was recovering and slowly making progress on the rebuild.

In other words, things were slow. All well and good; life was a little too fast for me around this time, too.

But we find little ways to move forward, even when all the doors we perceive are shut.

In the Underdark, we began hunting—rolling abstract encounters¹⁰ looking for something to do and hoping we will run into an Elder Phase Spider to make another vial of Desolation poison. Eventually, this resulted in several interesting sites.

A little map of resolved Underdark encounters

Fell Labs

We stumbled upon a massive “nest” of myconids and a huge crop of “Lotus Mushrooms.” Both were substantial sources of poison ingredients, and we put Darkforest’s labor to work. The library and our research resources developed several interesting poisons. We had such a large quantity of goods that we needed to expand to other markets.

A front organization named “Fell Labs” set up shop in Wolfsong, advertising exotic poisons and offering discreet meetings to conduct trade negotiations. Yes, this is a front of the Creed of Twin Visions, which is a front of the Two-Sight Cabal.

The effort was highly successful because the up-and-coming nation of Tradehold eventually sent a representative to meet them. He wanted a Fell Labs booth set up in the market at Tradehold. Our CTV minions went there for the tour, liked what they saw, and set up shop directly in Tradehold—at the cost of a minimal tax and some substantial oversight.

Although this was no major intelligence coup, it gave us some insight into Tradehold workings. We suspected that the Keepers, who commonly employed Zone of Truth and were otherwise keen on getting into everyone’s business, knew that Fell Labs was a front—but we had honest dealings there and paid our dues with diligence.

The Crystalline Lair

A scouting party of Undertrackers returns. Shang Ssung is hopeful for news about another Elder Phase Spider, but his many eyes widen at their report of a magically protected lair.

A curse was placed at the lair entrance, causing severe confusion among all but one Undertracker in the party. The cursed ones insisted the entrance was nothing but solid rock!

After sending an initial security foray to breach the lair, it was clear this matter would require personal attention from Shang Ssung. He assembled two parties—one to camp outside the lair and another to investigate within.

At first sight, the lair seemed uninteresting. A few wild creatures were dispatched—nothing unusual for Underdark environs. But proceeding further revealed crystals lining the walls; it was eventually apparent that these crystals would glow in the presence of magic. Shang Ssung had brought two chests full of manuscripts about crystals but failed to identify them¹¹.

a primitive in-progress sketch of the lair

This dungeon was a mutual experiment. I wanted to learn what close-quarters tactics looked like in 5E when an honest force was in play, and Serious wanted to try adjudicating a “crawl” a bit at arm’s length and without going into the weeds.

Well, this dungeon contributed greatly to Drakonheim’s rapid adoption of Hellmarch for combat resolution. One simply cannot take 5E seriously when it comes to unit- or squad-level tactics, and the detailed traits & actions of combatants inherently prevent the Swords & Spells-style resolution that is recommended by BROZER and UMBROS. Even fiddling with the initiative system does not fix this problem.

The first couple of chambers were a total slog for me—I am very impatient these days with rolling back & forth constantly just to decide how many guys end up wounded¹². The Hellmarch deployment, however, went very smoothly.

To give a brief idea how things went:

Serious: Going through the passage across from the pit leads to another short tunnel, which opens up to another cavern. This one is much larger such that you can’t see across very well with darkvision—nor the ceiling.

There are more crystals here and there on the walls, glowing and pulsing slightly. Again they seem a touch brighter the closer they are to the opposite side.

You hear a touch of scraping stone to the right.

Me: We are not here to mess around. We march confidently into the room. Shang Ssung switches his rod to a flaming greatsword. It lights up 40 feet.

We found many animated objects in the chambers—stone warriors, horror helms, and animated armors. Shang Ssung was intrigued; this entailed a wizard with a particular focus. That also meant danger.

After clearing out a chamber of animated guards, something unexpected happened.

Serious: A dark apparition of a hooded figure materializes in the room at the conclusion of the battle. He mutters about time in a ghostly voice.

Me: Shang Ssung signals to the unit to stand down and calls out “Peace! Let us speak, wizard, and we will grant you peace.”

Serious: The wizard seems unmoved, perhaps even unaware for a moment. He suddenly looks at you and shouts, “Password!”

Well, we didn’t know the password so we had to kill him.

Tried to kill him.

The Wizard in the Tank

The wizard reared back, clearly casting a spell. Shang Ssung was angered by this impropriety, this delinquent practicing magic in his domain. He charged¹³ the wizard, bisecting him with his flaming greatsword—or so he thought.

The sword passed right through the apparition with no resistance. It had soon appeared behind the rest of the unit and was screaming babble about being out of time.

Shang Ssung put on the strange ring and spoke the command word to cast Antimagic Field. As Shang Ssung approached him, the apparition shielded his eyes and vanished. While the Antimagic Field was still emanating, the unit moved on ahead.

Through the west exit is another short tunnel. You can feel it before you see it, but on the other side is a cubic room carved from the cavern stone. In the center is a crystal tank with an unconscious, emaciated humanoid inside, the water around him glowing and pulsing.

This tank is surrounded by suits of armor, which animate to an attack posture upon your arrival.

—Serious

Shang Ssung—well aware of the effect that an antimagic field will have on animated armor—gave a serpentine laugh and called for them to yield. The armors pressed back, staying in a protective posture around the tank. He stepped forward, and the armors clattered harmlessly to the ground.

The being inside the tank closely resembled the apparition. Shang Ssung stepped forward experimentally, soaking the crystalline tank in the antimagic field. The creature inside—a dark elf—began to convulse violently as the glow of the tank subsided.

Shang Ssung stepped back with a smirk, leaving a tiny distance between the antimagic field and the tank. He ordered Undertrackers to examine the chamber’s perimeter for hidden exits or traps. Meanwhile, a Two-Sight Priest moved to the chamber’s center near the tank, prioritizing the recovery of documents and magical trinkets.

Another surprise sprang in the midst of this process.

The antimagic field ceases. You feel a surge of energy, and your eyes see the world under a new light. A glorious veil of feathers springs from your back.

—Serious

As Shang Ssung grappled with the sudden onset of true-sight and the bewildering experience of growing wings, the armors clattered feebly on the ground, attempting to re-assemble. The cacophony of soldiery attacking the grounded armors reached its zenith as Shang Ssung received another message from The Speaker.

“Give in to Desire, fulfill your Ambitions! Wield the flames against your enemies or be consumed by your own weakness!”

Shang Ssung’s transformation was awe-inspiring to those present. He urges the unit to continue with investigative procedures, and they quickly found answers in documents scattered across the chamber.

Slipping through documents nets you a journal wherein one “Thalyth Veyr,” a dark elf, who sought solitude from his kin, found these caves and slowly built himself a domain.

His goal was the Thoughtwell: a reservoir that stores the memories of entire lifetimes.

The idea was to draw upon this knowledge or implant it in others to create “instant experts” or false loyalties, etc. It seems that he succumbed to his own experiments, which were increasingly involved with the flow of time itself—and altering it.

—Serious

The apparition made its way into the room, babbling and wandering incessantly. The Two-Sight Priest attempted various interesting phrases from the documents, speaking them aloud in Undercommon to the apparition. One of them hit, and the apparition regained a fragment of lucidity. He was horrified at the sight of his body, and lamented aloud that he could not live outside the tank.

Recognizing he was at our mercy and that we were his only way to contact the outside world, he agreed to an arrangement. We benefitted from his specialty skills in our researches, and we gained the use of his animated tools and dredges. In return, we cleared the cruft out of his lair, brought in personnel to perform tasks he could not, and fed him news and reports from across the world.

With the new glow in Shang Ssung’s eyes, and his wings enabling flight, he emerged from the wizard’s lair as if imbued with divine purpose.

The SEEN post combined many elements of the encounters we’d been inciting in the Underdark.

The Fated King
<the sub-Wolfsong Underdark (11.29, 11.30)>

Rumors flood out from secret, quiet realms. A king in the Underdark, they say, has visited a long-forgotten place and emerged… changed. He disturbed something deep below. Now, the yawning caverns clink with the march of living tools & armaments, and new plagues and poisons spread across the un-sunned realms.

Is he a divine, winged serpent—or a dragon twisted by darkness? Does the destiny he speaks of herald a new age or an aeon’s end?

(August 27, 2025)

---

To Slay a Dragon

We had an immense pool of magic research available—even moreso with the tank wizard Thalyth to assist with any uncertainties. Shang Ssung had reached, through mysterious means, a new epoch of power. Wings, summoned or dismissed at his whim, allowed him to take flight as he peered at the world below, seeing the truth of all before him. He began to believe he was slowly transforming into a divine dragon, mirroring his lord and master, Desolith.

There can only be one dragon haunting a hoard—Korthrak’s time was up.

Even though the magical clone would not be ready for nearly a month, Shang Ssung would not wait a moment longer. The Lord of Ruin had spurred him towards destiny, and he would neither hesitate nor doubt.

Tactical Plan

The Cabal would strike at the dragon in broad daylight, daring him to enter the fray. Shang Ssung was confident that even an Ancient Green Dragon would be brought low so long as the Desolation poison could be applied. Similarly, the dragon was so consumed with hatred, vanity, and irritation that he could not ignore the assault or refuse the fight.

By this time, the valley surrounding Little Pig Cave had dried up. The goblins, in attempts to get the mining camp going again, had trampled and trod everywhere. A few pits of water remained, but most was dirt or mud. The terrain in the area presented no special advantage or disadvantage for either side.

In an attack on the goblin camp, any invading force would be swiftly surrounded and flanked from all sides. To counteract this, the key was to bring overwhelming might in soldiery—enough to create a “front” on every side of the force. The ideal construction was such that, wherever the dragon decided to strike, Shang Ssung would be nearby enough to apply the poison.

each square is 10'

Because I was unsure by what means the battle would be resolved, I drew up a detailed plan including diagrams of the units—after all, Hellmarch implicitly expects the collision of front ranks to be compared in each successive melee; knowing the structure of a unit is important to understand reinforcement of that front rank. The diagram of the green units (Sword Squads) and the blue unit (Wizard Squad) are given below.

Wizard Squad (Shang Ssung = huge, Fang Warden & Bone Nagas = large) [top] and Sword Squad [bottom]

The Shrine Squad was more than just soldiery—a large apparatus depicting a dragon skewered on a spear would be erected and marched towards Little Pig Cave. Around this apparatus, a swirl of magical entities would dance—Spirit Guardians from the Oracle Councilors and Shadow Spirits summoned by Two-Sight Priests. By all appearances, the column is set up to defend the “shrine,” and all unit commanders—loyal and dedicated Fang Wardens—are instructed to support this falsehood.

The ultimate plan was simple: we devastate and turn back any incoming goblin attacks with the raw power of soldiery. Then, when the dragon shows up, he ideally goes for the shrine, which we’ve hinted is a superweapon of some kind, and gets bogged down in that area of the formation.

The combination of Spirit Guardians, Bestow Curse, Sickening Radiance, and Cloudkill would be deployed to attack his saves, reducing his Legendary Resistance to zero¹⁴. Then—or in the midst of the attacks on his saves—the Desolation poison would be applied, and he would become increasingly helpless as he proceeded down the condition track.

The Battle of Little Pig Cave

We assembled our gigantic formation miles away. The instant the sun hit its highest point in the sky, we marched. Snake banners waved. Oracles & Priests made signs and symbols atop the skewered dragon shrine, hauled by animated armors and Bone Nagas.

Being so obvious was the first way we undercut the goblins’ advantage. Their advanced scouting was useless in the face of our brazen display.

Bat riders began assembling in the dozens. Even from a mile away, the clamor and panic at the goblin camp was evident. The hobgoblin leaders, thinking themselves clever, organized multiple flanks of worg riders—they were dramatically faster and more maneuverable than our “turtle” formation.

The bat riders struck first. A few soft volleys of arrows was enough for them to gain confidence to move in en masse for the kill. They were gutted by a dual volley of longbows from our 30 Fang Wardens. The remaining bats scattered, flying around in pure panic. Nearly a thousand goblin onlookers watched them get shredded pitifully, accomplishing nothing.

Then a horn was sounded—the worg riders charged in with fury, from all sides, their attacks filled with desperate momentum.

And they were butchered by our goblin-crunching machine. No matter the flank, no matter the speed, the worg riders crashed into the most disciplined killing force in Drakonheim. Even the ground that had been dry had become slick with viscera. Carcasses of goblins, worgs, and giant bats littered the ground like some obscene circle of wildflowers. Our army, at every flank, was splashed from head to tail with crimson.

Their morale broke. In every direction, the goblin squads stumbled back in fear, making a polite pathway for our march towards the entrance to the mine.

We had very few casualties. Things had gone dramatically better than I had predicted. The enemy losses were unbelievable, and their remaining forces were hesitant, stunned, or full-on routing.

Then the sky shook with a roar.

Dragon Dive

Korthrak had arrived. He was not blind to the devastation we had wrought, nor was he impatient enough to ignore the effect it had on his forces. He bellowed fearsomely, calling them to file up in deep ranks and dig in.

Goblins close to our formation had no choice—dull ogres and vicious, scared hobgoblins pressed them forward—into red death.

But the dragon took this opportunity to unleash his ultimate weapon. He streamed down with impossible grace, as if flight was the easiest task in all the worlds, and unleashed a hellish barrage of potent toxin, covering multiple Cabal units…

…to no effect. Shang Ssung laughed, giving the signal for longbows. All this planning, all this time, all the drills and contingencies—and the dragon was fool enough to swoop in low for a useless attack.

A hail of arrows, sent forth with sadistic satisfaction by expert marksmen, struck the dragon straight on. Most of the missiles plummeted harmlessly, their energy absorbed in his ancient scales. But more than enough struck home, and he bled. A caustic brew spat out of his wounds, melting many goblins on contact. He stumbled in flight, reeling.

And then he ran. He lurched in shock towards his mountain lair.

Shang Ssung gave the order for banners high—the gigantic formation turned to march up the mountain.

Attack on the Lair

For hours, the Cabal marched up the slope, keeping formation as tightly as possible. The “shrine” had been deposited in the field, surrounded with corpses—a grisly sight, even from afar.

Roars of pain and frustration leapt from the lair occasionally. Doubtless the dragon was healing himself and making maniacal preparations. Yet, the time was now—he could not be allowed to roam free in the lands soon to be claimed by Shang Ssung.

Local denizens appeared on the horizon, watching in concern as an army fit to challenge Wolfsong itself casually tread towards the dragon’s lair.

When we finally arrived, all was quiet. The lair was enormous beyond reckoning and dark even in the daylight. There would be no cautious approach, no measured sweep. A fiend inhabited this cave, and the Cabal would root it out—or lose everything.

The first unit inside was hit by a diabolical trap—annihilated to a man. But the rest of the formation marched on, disciplined & devoted to the mission. They did not fear death; they did not fear anything in this mortal realm.

When the dragon saw their resolve, he hesitated. He had a choice to make, and he fled once more, knowing that death awaited him here.

The lair was ours.

Spoils & Celebrations

In total, the dragon’s hoard would count near 700,000gp of wealth in diamonds, gold, and platinum—and that was not counting the slew of magic items recovered. Among the hoard, the dragon had been collecting artworks and various odd ornamental and miscellaneous items.

Among them was “A sketchbook from another world of the Material Plane, depicting unfamiliar creatures and one very familiar dragon.” Obviously, this is a stupid wink-wink from the developer, but I decided that the familiar dragon was none other than the Lord of Ruin. This sketchbook would fill Shang Ssung’s imagination and prepare him for the ritual he was soon to cast.

Another odd item was the skull of a Celestial. It seemed ominous and portentous.

The Wizard King’s Ascendance
<Korthrak’s lair (11.30)>

The ancient green dragon Korthrak, the Withering Gale, hurls curses to the sky as he flees, bloodied and defeated. Out of the dragon’s lair, a monstrous being emerges. Held aloft by feathered wings, a hulking mass of writhing snakes takes on humanoid form, grasping in one “hand” a flaming greatsword and raising high the skull of a Celestial in the other. At the mass’s “head,” the snakes’ eyes glow with a white light.

At the ground level beneath it, a voice calls out down the mountain: “All hail the Wizard King Shang Ssung, the Divine Dragon’s Herald, the King of the Underdark, and the Wing-ed Serpent. Kneel to the master of this land!” Dark yuan-ti commanders follow, leading ranks of undead nagas from the lair’s entrance. The procession is covered in blood and poison, with all hands carrying treasure and magical artifacts to wagons arrayed around the mouth of the lair.

A mile below, the savaged bodies of goblins drip with the burning blood of Korthrak’s wounds. An effigy of a skewered dragon looms darkly over the viscera and mud surrounding Little Pig Cave. The scent of a new age is sharp in the land: is weal or woe to come?

(September 1, 2025)

---

Third Lair’s the Charm
<Wormholler and Little Pig Cave (11.30)>

A foul force marched in the midday on the mine at Little Pig Cave. Hundreds of hoary undead follow fast downstream of dark serpentine soldiers.

The eye seeks the sinister but finds the ominous order of rank and line arrayed to deal death. They marched unphased into the goblin camps, and the reason was clear: battered bats and gutted goblins fouled the field in modest minutes.

The effervescent reek of Korthrak, the Whimpering Tail, seized the senses of all around as he flew forth in anger from his mountaintop cave. A blast of breath served solely to stain the mudsoil green, while arrows found their aim and marked his marrow true in red. He limped to his lair, but his foes followed, step by step up the steeps. After feisty fray, the limper left to look for yet another lair.

The foul beast is defeated by dark forces at the hands of a striking serpent king. Though inclined to condemn, I cannot deny the light that shines from his eyes, nor the order of his march, nor the dragon-defying deeds on display.

Eminence guide our steps.

-Brother Shober, Attendant of the Creed of Twin Visions & watcher over Wormholler

(September 1, 2025)

The Speaker Returns

On the night of September 2nd, Shang Ssung was visited by The Speaker once more.

A blazing sky in twilight, a crisp mountain breeze, a vista adorned with autumn.

A handsome man adorned in the colours of the peacock sits upon a soft pillow at a low table. He stirs a tiny fire at the table's center where a teapot slowly warms. Each movement is controlled, smooth, calculated. As he sets the table, his serene visage shifts into a smile. “I must congratulate you, my dear friend, on your glorious victory. The finale was particularly beautiful. Please. Sit.” He motions to an open pillow beside him and begins preparing a cup; a simple ritual.

“Know that the brighter your ambition burns, the stronger our connection becomes. A powerful flame ignites many, offering light to the world.” Within the teacup, images stir. Viewing them consumes your vision: you see yourself placing the livers of men and a fox pelt into a box. The vision shifts to a ship in sunset, sailing south. Again it shifts, and you are opening the same box, but within is a kaleidoscope of colour! It is magic without form.

The visions vanish and all that remains is an empty cup; which the host takes with a smile. “Exercise your will. Give form to the formless.”

The breeze picks up for a moment, and everything fades to black.

The strange ring.

During our encounter with the tank wizard’s apparition, the anti-magic field had simply ceased, absent any will on Shang Ssung’s part. Someone else had exerted control over the ring.

Whoever this mystery character was, Shang Ssung could not envision any possibility except that it was some (knowing or otherwise) servant of Ruin. Had Lord Desolith conspired to slay The Void so that this ring could be delivered to His loyal follower? The conflux of happenstance that led to its new ownership was improbable beyond mortal reckoning, if attributed merely to chance.

Owing to the powers sourced from the strange ring, Shang Ssung could now see the Truth all about him—and he could also sense there was much he could not see. For his ability was limited and measured; it was, fundamentally, of this world.

In order to achieve the Lord Desolith’s return, Shang Ssung would need to see something else entirely. He would need to see what was beyond the beyond.

Armed with this understanding and The Speaker’s entreaty, Shang Ssung finalized the decree on his desk and left the throne room. He would not return until he had gained a new kind of knowledge. A kind which could not be transmitted by words or signs. A kind which could neither be examined nor conveyed within the mortal realms.

The kind of knowledge that only the soul could understand, imparted by a divine fire.

Deals and Decrees

Ironically, the mine from below finally broke through and began to produce diamonds. Since we controlled Little Pig Cave, we assured the drow it would be placed off limits—anyone trespassing would be hunted and killed, without exception; they were allowed to post their own assassins for this purpose if they wished. They were ecstatic, and we were pleased to keep them in line. Their cooperation had secured our home affairs from spies, plots, and other possible external threats; the drow were our early warning system for interference.

Shang Ssung appointed officers to carry out his decree and, when necessary, to rule in his stead. The reason was obvious¹⁵; every member of the Cabal knew of the ritual, dreamed of it and waited for the glorious day of its completion. The first step was to be taken.

The decree itself was the creation of an empire—a move which cemented Shang Ssung as a now-public figure in a position which the overlanders could understand, could feel “safe” about. It would set the tone for future negotiations and demands on his part.

Shang Ssung’s Imperium Draconis
<Wormholler (11.30), Greyfang (12.31)>

By order of the mighty Shang Ssung,
the Wizard King, the Wing-ed Serpent,
I, his humble servant, bring these proclamations:

1) Uniting the Underdark and the Overland under the banner of the Divine Dragon’s Destiny, Shang Ssung inaugurates the IMPERIUM DRACONIS. The lands surrounding Little Pig Cave and Wormholler are brought under Shang Ssung’s domain. Wormholler is to be rebuilt as a diplomatic outpost for overlanders seeking entreaty.

2) To the forces who fought and died for their master, Korthrak: Your conduct was commendable. Your crimes are forgiven.

3) To the fighters that lived to see the Divine Dragon’s Herald ascend the fated mountain: You are judged in error, but Shang Ssung’s mercy is upon you. Return to your tribes and contemplate your crimes against the human empires; doubtless, they are vengeful.

4) To the fools who stay and resist in these lands: your sentence is DEATH. It awaits you with OPEN ARMS.

5) The WOLFSONG EMPIRE failed to attack the dragon terrorizing its citizens. Only by the merciful sword of Shang Ssung are the people spared the dragon’s agitated despotism.

5a) GREYFANG will pay an immediate bounty of 20,000gp of gold, supplies, and building materials to the IMPERIUM DRACONIS for protecting their land and people.

5b) Henceforth, GREYFANG will pay a tribute of 1,000gp weekly. This tribute can be waived by establishing a diplomatic office in Wormholler.

5c) WOLFSONG’s laxity in rulership is declared NEGLIGENT TO THE EXTREME, but Shang Ssung’s mercy is upon you: protect your citizens and maintain order, for the heavens are swift to renounce their mandate!

(September 7, 2025)

The Ritual

All throughout September and October, the Imperium Draconis had been silent. The joint diamond mine effort between Darkforest and the drow was producing obscene quantities of diamonds—so much that they would need to be sequestered to maintain their value.

The rest of Drakonheim marched forward. Wars were fought, famous and infamous alike were slain and idolized, and devious plotters played at securing the Divine Seam.

But for Shang Ssung, the mortal realm was terribly distant. Ghostly. Was it even real, or just a distant memory?

When he breathed in, the fires of a thousand gods of light burned his lungs. But he kept searching.

The Fire in Their Dreams
<Wormholler (11.30), Greyfang (12.31)>

Minor dignitaries pile up outside Dragonspear Spire in Wormholler, their pleas and entreaties neglected. The tension in Greyfang, following threats by the Imperium Draconis over bounties, lingers as city officials keep watch over their shoulders. The knights of the Wolfsong Empire patrol the countryside, wary of the Wizard King’s next move.

The Imperium Draconis was established, and its one overland outpost was raised in solemn silence, watching over the land. But its banners grind listlessly against the stone.

The mine at Little Pig Cave, once a bustling, malodorous mudpit, lies deathly silent. No sound or light emits from the cave, and those who investigate too closely do not return.

The powers in the West shift uneasily in their saddles, their mind preoccupied with the question: Where is the Wizard King Shang Ssung?

Across the land, asylum inmates shriek in terror in the dead of night.

For they know the answer.

(October 25, 2025)

Knowledge. True knowledge. That which cannot be forgotten, which cannot be repeated, which cannot molded to fit the confines of a mortal’s mind.

That which only the soul can learn. The knowledge of Ruin.

Reaching Beyond
<the Underdark beneath Wormholler (11.30)>

In the Wolfsong region, the umbral cloak of the Underdark is diminishing. A purple glow emanating from an Outer World intrudes on the caves & caverns, disturbing the natural balance of the delicate ecologies reliant on darkness. Visitors accommodated to the surface find traversal oddly easier—but far more frightening.

Deep beneath the Dragonspear Spire erected at Wormholler, beyond black rivers and baleful arches, a wonder of the world looms over the subterranean city of Darkforest, capital of the Imperium Draconis. Woeful walls, grimly guarded, surround the seat of power. Beyond an ornate chapterhouse, an ominous serpent temple sheds arcane vapors to the sound of a sinister flute. Blinding purple light beams from the stone snake’s casements, and hideous cries of anguish—or madness?—escape its containment, echoing into the far reaches of the once-abyss.

A distant cave is assualted by the voice, “It’s not enough!” Terrified artisans cover their ears at, “I dare not speak His name.” Herds of twisted fauna flee from, “Beyond the Beyond!” booming in their ears. Those who know his hulking presence know that the voice belongs to none other than the Wizard King Shang Ssung.

What eerie light challenges the deadly tranquility of the Underdark? What daunting dialogue discharges, missing its intended mark?

What frenzied plot transpires in the ophidian tower at Darkforest?

(October 30, 2025)

The world had its warning. The long march to Ruin was nearing its end.

The Blueprint

From the beginning, Shang Ssung knew it was possible but could not comprehend how. But now, in hindsight, it was obvious.

Ruin could not enter this realm while the Divine Seam was intact. And yet, Lord Desolith’s influence could seep into the gaps between the weave of the realms—given the right conditions. We had seen that a wish spell, with its primordial agreements & responsibilities stitched into the very fabric of existence, could allow the Lord of Ruin to reach through, if only temporarily.

Built with inhuman precision and forbidden knowledge, an apparatus could be prepared such that it would repel the weave and its imprisoning threads. With a ready gap held in place, it would only be a matter of achieving resonance—Ruin on one side of the gap ringing in harmony with Ruin on the other side.

By this means could Lord Desolith reach through and puppet the prepared corpus.

Lesser incarnation of Ruin
(9th level ritual)
Casting Time: 1 hour/Instant
Range: 30 feet
Components: [Special]
Duration: Permanent

(1 hour) The components are magically fashioned into a hardened corpus. The corpus is imbued with a low-level intelligence capable of following simplistic commands (such as Move [here], Stop, Follow [target] etc.).

(Instant) When a requisite ritual act of destruction is performed, the corpus resonates with magical power. Pressing upon this resonance, the caster opens a limited pathway to the Outside where the Lord of Ruin is held. If He so chooses, the Lord of Ruin may reach through the pathway, taking direct control over the corpus.

The corpus would be a unique work of the mage’s art. Uncompromising in every way, it would be unsuitable if it was valued less than 1 million gold pieces.

In order to create the Ruin resonance, something precious and long-standing must be toppled, destroyed, or desecrated. Shang Ssung imagined the crumbling of a grand castle or fortress, the annihilation of an opulent city center, the profaning of a treasured monument of ancient heroes, or similar.

His ultimate target would be unprecedented and shocking, even to him.

Finding the Divine Seam

While he was recovering from his journey to the Outside, Shang Ssung began reading the reports, tracing the path of the Divine Seam through events on the map.

A prominent member of the CTV had received a letter detailing that an overlander, the Marquis Pell Andrex of Feylon, was in possession of the Divine Seam and had met with a dangerous wizard, Archmage Teruel. Soon after this meeting, so the letter described, Shazhak the Bone Howler had slain the Marquis.

Thus, in all likelihood, either the Archmage Teruel or Shazhak himself were in possession of the Seam after that point.

Later, both Shazhak and Teruel are noted participants in a slaughterhouse battle outside Owlhorn.

the site of the Battle of Owlhorn River

Shang Ssung carefully noted the reports of this battle, highlighting points essential to finding and destroying the Divine Seam:

Sky Erupts As Battle of Owlhorn River Joins!
<Owlhorn Front, 17.44–18.44>

Witnesses speak in awe of what unfolded west of the Owlhorn River! Scores of elementals marched and flew down from the mountain pass, led by none other than Spellgrave and Archmage Teruel, both astride giant eagles.

Not far away, a stone fortress rose overnight at 18.44, said to be raised by Shazhak’s dark sorcery and teeming with undead warriors. But before its gates could open, the sky split threefold. From each rift streaked blazing meteors, which burst into countless fragments that rained down upon the fortress. The ground itself heaved, jagged fissures tearing the land asunder.

When the dust cleared, nothing remained. The fortress and all within it utterly annihilated.

…

Witnesses report that Shazhak himself struck down Archmage Teruel in single combat, seizing from his corpse a jagged crystal known only in whispers. Yet no sooner had Shazhak laid claw upon the shard than the earth convulsed.

From beneath the field rose a titanic colossus of blackened stone, its body riven with veins of fire and storm. Towering near eighty feet, it knocked the Seam from Shazhak’s grasp and set it within its own chest, where it pulsed like a darkened heart.

… it did not move to aid either side, but merely watched the unfolding battle, judging the worth of the combatants.

…

Cloudsong, Teruel, and the gnoll archmage all met their ends upon this field. … As Spellgrave drifted helplessly from the air, all spells spent and strength nearly gone, he unleashed a single desperate scroll of Power Word Kill. The word of unmaking struck true. Shazhak fell lifeless, robbed of triumph at the very brink.

… Only Khallith Zal and his battered lizardmen remain defiantly upon the plain.

And looming still, the colossal behemoth of stone and storm glowers at the survivors, the Divine Seam burning within its chest. Its gaze has fixed upon Zal, as though weighing his fate—and perhaps the fate of all who dare claim the Seam.

(September 5, 2025)

Famous and infamous alike were struck down in this battle. Vast hordes of undead, elementals, and other combatants were wrenched from mortal existence. But at the end, only the lizardman druid Khallith Zal would be left vying for the Divine Seam.

Signs of Power

Shang Ssung followed the reports, seeking information on the druid. He was headquartered in the Bramblemarsh, east of Owlhorn.

Alarm in Bramblemarsh!
<Inside the Bramblemarsh, 23.48>

Behind the great Thorns of Hedgewall of Bramblemarsh, A gigantic Tree that could be seen from Miles away had suddenly sprung up from the center of the Swamp. Hundreds of Feet tall with branches just as long stretching into the Sky.

What is Khallith Zal doing? What magic is this? Is this the work of the Divine Seam?

(September 23, 2025)

It was beyond doubt that the primitive swamp lizards could not manage such a feat. Later reports were even more concerning.

Bramblemarsh Spreads

A plague is spreading beyond the Walls of Bramblemarsh. The Thorny thickets of the The Hedgewall have begun to shudder and shift, and slowly but sure, a Reddish mist is leaking out the The Hedgewall, blackening and putrying the local fauna and waters as it spreads unceasingly through the land. Trees rotting into barren stumps, waters bubbling with poison, and strange and bizzare myconoids and plant blights are growing. The Hexes (23.43 25.47, 21.48) and all of Bramblemarsh has become a deadly swamp full of deadly creatures. All but those under the Protection of Khallith Zal, have been corrupted by an unknown power. Is this the work of the Divine Seam? Will this corruption continue unchallenged? How will the surrounding cities respond?

(October 7, 2025)

Khallith Zal was fortified in an incomprehensibly large tree, and not only was his domain taking on a corrupted form, that corruption was also spreading. Soon, it would reach crippled Owhlorn; soon it would overtake the kingdom of Rusvania. In time, it would reach the Wolfsong Empire.

Reading the reports, the picture worsened. The druid had been uninterrupted in his work for a long time. With the Seam in his possession, there was no doubt he was accumulating a terrible power—one which would rapidly grow out of control.

To top it all off, witnesses had spotted Khallith Zal consorting with two of the world’s Ancient Dragons—also known as Tyrants. He had made some sort of deal with both the Swamp Tyrant (Ancient Black Dragon) and the Storm Tyrant (Ancient Blue Dragon). No doubt Korthrak—the Verdant Tyrant—would be eager to join in on this scheme as well.

To put it simply, he was trouble. Highly visible trouble—a prime opportunity.

Building the War Against the Druid

With so much evidence of oncoming doom, Shang Ssung believed the fickle human nations could be incited to wage war against the Bramblemarsh. All was set in place—the humans just needed leadership.

Shang Ssung dispatched several units to Stonia. There they would appear to come to an agreement with the city’s rulers (the CTV, naturally) to construct a “training grounds.” This would ease the logistics of moving Wolfsong Armies south towards Owlhorn and, inevitably, the Bramblemarsh.

But first, he would make a grand display, moving an enormous army to his claimed territory in Wormholler.

An Empire Stirred
<Wormholler (11.30)>

Arrayed in deadly formations, a legion of yuan-ti and naga forces march onto Wormholler, stretching the banner of the Imperium Draconis across miles of Wolfsong territory.

The disembodied voices haunt the lands no more. The purple light stalking the Underdark has subsided, and industry in Darkforest is spinning back up.

At Dragonspear Spire, the denizens and dignitaries of the land can see the Wizard King Shang Ssung returned—but changed! The feathers of his wings are singed, and deep burns mar the scales of snakes which make up his hulking bulk. He carries still his flaming greatsword and the skull of a Celestial, but the snakes’ eyes at his “head” glow a menacing purple.

He hovers atop the Spire, brooding over the southeast horizon. The force that defeated a dragon awaits his command. Where, what, or who will the two-snake banner strike?

(November 6, 2025)

In time, this immense force would find its way to Greyfang for another political maneuver. The CTV was in complete control of Stonia, and the influence they held over Greyfang was considerable. It was all going to be spent in one major play.

The Speaker struck again, with another vision—this one of an entirely different character.

Sacks and carts of gold and diamonds, laden and slowly rolling. Behind the first few are endless empty ones waiting to be filled.

Visions of a city rife with bounty amidst a festival. Colour and wonder, beauty and potential.

The slaughter of a woman bearing a crown. Endless faceless masses wailing at their loss. Blood and tears flow into a river and become a waterfall. Over the falls, they turn into diamonds and fill the empty carts.

The train marches on, filling an endless abyss with the treasure; glitters in the darkness reveal the demonic face of Lord Desolith.

These were images, Shang Ssung felt, of something to come. None of the anchor points of the vision could be tied, as far as he could tell, to ongoing matters. For this reason, the vision haunted him for weeks as he retraced its narrative.

Meanwhile, Undertrackers were sent—via keystone—to scout the Bramblemarsh and to make contact with the denizens there. Eventually they would report that the lizardmen follow Khallith Zal out of a potent combination of respect, tribal obligations, and fear of his awesome power; our typical attempts at snake diplomacy would be fruitless.

In addition, the scouts reported, war against the Bramblemarsh presented a unique logistical challenge—an extremely tough bramble plant was shifting and growing, creating a hundred-fold reinforced wall of gnarled thorns and hardened plant fiber that surrounded the entire domain. This would be an urgent issue, stopping armies dead in their tracks, if not addressed. The Priests and Oracle Councilors went to work, scouring our world-class library for techniques to create a plant-killing poison.

But these things take time. Before any progress was made, opportunity struck.

Disaster Strikes Shor Whistan

On November 19th, denizens near Shor Whistan (a major city in the Eastern Lands) report seeing three dragons—“real dragons, not wyverns”—flying towards a floating stone tower operated by a celestial being known as the Aeon. It was unclear what the dragons were doing, but the tower was slowly drifting from its origin point after they were spotted.

Two days later, the tower had drifted into close proximity with Shor Whistan. “A blinding cascade of fire—four blazing impacts” struck the tower, causing it to lurch towards the city in an uncontrolled descent. The damage would be cataclysmic; the political fallout would create unimaginable chaos.

DISASTER IN SHOR WHISTAN: CITY SHATTERED BY FALLING SKY TOWER
<Shor Whistan 42.53>

Chaos grips Shor Whistan in the aftermath of the falling sky-tower, whose two massive stone fragments have struck the capital—one just north of the Citadel, the other several hundred feet to its south. Each impact left behind craters of utter annihilation, flattening entire blocks of homes, markets, and workshops. The areas immediately surrounding the strikes suffered catastrophic structural collapse, with shockwaves shattering windows and toppling buildings across multiple districts.

The death toll may reach into the thousands, with countless more wounded or unaccounted for. Survivors wander the wreckage calling for loved ones, while guards and volunteers form desperate rescue lines, digging through debris for anyone still alive.

A narrow thread of hope emerged in reports that the northern fragment—on a direct path toward the Citadel—was wrenched off course at the final instant by High Curator Spellgrave’s timely reverse gravity spell, sparing the palace and its inhabitants from instantaneous destruction.

At the Grey Docks, the crisis deepened when a tsunami surged in from the bay, flooding piers and warehouses. Yet even this disaster was partially checked: witnesses say the wave suddenly collapsed in on itself, its height slashed nearly in half as arcane energies unraveled it mid-crest—another intervention attributed to Spellgrave.

Despite these narrow salvations, the city remains in turmoil. Fires burn unattended. Streets are choked with rubble. The wounded cry out for healers, and families search frantically for the missing. King Theomar has ordered every temple, mage circle, and civic company to join the relief effort as Shor Whistan faces the greatest calamity in its history.

(November 22, 2025)

---

In the days leading up to this cataclysm, a Lord’s Council at Greyfang was called.

Shang Ssung’s massive army, without any forewarning, marched into the outskirts of Greyfang and set up a huge tent camp, including fortifications dug around its perimeter. The implication was clear: meet our demands or come under siege.

A diplomatic envoy met, one by one, with the city’s most influential men to make an announcement.

By order of the mighty Shang Ssung,
the Wizard King, the Wing-ed Serpent,
I, his humble servant, bring this proclamation:

A Lord’s Council, held outside Greyfang, has been established. There, men of prudence and wisdom will address the dangers that threaten the Wolfsong Empire. The great men of this city are, of course, invited to add their voice to these proceedings.

Time is short; those who cannot attend the Lord’s Council will have to wait for future proceedings, assuming Wolfsong still stands.

The threats we face are great, but our power is greater, if we demonstrate the will and fortitude to protect our sovereign lands.

We had a complete dossier of the city’s hierarchy and knew who the important movers & shakers were. Even though some, we knew, would be hesitant to go along with our plan, the combined voice of the rest—under strong influence from CTV plotting—would win out, one way or the other.

We were prepared for any outcome, but the city relented—especially after hearing initial reports of the disaster in Shor Whistan, across the ocean. Vassals were called up, and noble honor was put on the line. The net effect: a substantial Wolfsong army would march south.

The army would march south to Stonia and continue on this planned route, headquartering in camps near Owlhorn

The Lord’s Council at Greyfang
<Greyfang (12.31)>

By order of the mighty Shang Ssung,
the Wizard King, the Wing-ed Serpent;
I, his humble servant, bring these proclamations:

A Council of Lords was held at an Imperium Draconis camp outside Greyfang. The city’s rulers, Wolfsong representatives, and men of noble lineage were invited to speak and to decide on matters of great import.

At great length, and in a manner of unmatched dignity and focus, the directive was reached:

“Threats to the Wolfsong Empire lie to the south, towards which a great quantity and degree of violence and upheaval has run wild for too long. The men-at-arms of Greyfang will be sent south, to be directed under the guidance of the Divine Dragon’s Herald.”

The march begins. We follow the Wing-ed Serpent south.

(November 22, 2025)

A powerful army was marching south, but strange portents drew Shang Ssung’s eyes to the East.

The Sacrifice Revealed

On the same day the Lord’s Council announced its proclamation, a torrent of reports flooded in. While sifting through them, Shang Ssung was struck by another vision:

A maddening cacophony of horns and explosions flood a nightmarish landscape of blood and flame! Shadowy forms march in endless waves toward the horizon of a red dawn. Soon after the ringing in your ears fades, they fill with heavy clattering and the sound of grinding iron. Soon, you are passed by great war machines of hollowed black iron and flame. Beside them are shadowy monstrosities hauling great balls of hot, round metal.

As the visions fade, pieces begin coming together to form a code, cipher, perhaps even a recipe for destruction. It burns itself there in the land between dreams, promising power.

What could it mean? The answer, he felt, would lie somewhere within these reports.

In the midst of cataclysmic disaster, Shor Whistan reacted in that distinctly human way: contradiction. Were the reports about the damage or the predicted downstream effects on Shor Whistan’s power & influence? No. One after another, the pages indicated some act of charity, some flavor of unbidden gift, some display of savior complex—elaborate endowments ordinarily preserved for courting a strong ally.

The whole world, it seemed, would prop Shor Whistan up on its shoulders. Tradehold, Varak’Zul, and the mercenary company under Captain MacBurton were all fully mobilized to render aid. Even a strange nation of goblins serving a King Stinkfist made their way into the city to quell an opportunistic up-rising of undead.

Shang Ssung stared at the next page in shock. The mortal world, for one moment, took on that ghostly, distant feeling. The visions which had haunted him for weeks were made manifest before him.

St. Diana
<Shor Whistan 42.53>

“I saw her just there, like an angel, sir! She was all the things good and right in the world!” - wounded child

In light of recent catastrophe, Lady Pennington has taken an active role in the citizens’ care. Despite sleepless hours, bloody wounds, and potential for infection, the Lady has remained stalwart, pure, and beautiful. She prays for the salvation of her King’s people, and righteous justice to His enemies.

In the haze, some have begun referring to her as an Angel and a Saint. When asked to comment, she merely signed: “A mother cares for her children.”

(November 22, 2025)

Here was the Queen of Shor Whistan, the organizer of the city’s upcoming “Day of Humility.”

On that day, would Shor Whistan not be the city rife with bounty amidst a festival? Every human nation was currently planning to flood the city with unearned wealth, security, and good will.

Would she not be the woman bearing a crown whose slaughter would result in [e]ndless faceless masses wailing? If Shang Ssung had any say in it, then the [b]lood and tears would indeed flow into a river and become a waterfall.

He called in his imperial clerks. Many calculations would need to be made—and quickly. An attendant overseeing the research for the plant-killing alchemy made his way into the chamber, holding aloft a small vial.

Shang Ssung laughed madly.

Infiltrating the Eastern Lands

Everything was under-prepared for what needed to occur.

• Shang Ssung would not be able to lead his army south. However, barring major interruptions, his officers should be capable of reaching Owlhorn without him.

• The Day of Humility was on November 27. No significant number of the Cabal could reach Shor Whistan, across the ocean, in that time.

Traversing large distances, especially through conflict zones, costs substantial time

• Shang Ssung held now the guise of Emperor, but his was not a human nation. The Imperium Draconis presence would not be accepted within the city so easily as the others.

• If the sacrifice of Queen Diana Pennington was to be the Ruin resonance in the mortal realm, then the complex construct must be completed and somehow brought to Shor Whistan.

• A discussion with the clerks revealed that Shang Ssung just barely had enough funds to achieve the necessary value and quantity of requisite materials for the corpus.

• Even if the corpus was there and the sacrifice could be made… what happened next? Shang Ssung would be vilified and isolated in enemy territory. The product of his machinations—the puppet vessel for Desolith—would be a target for both Khallith Zal and every human nation.

But to doubt was heresy! He would put his trust in the Lord of Ruin, blindly if necessary!

He assembled his engineers, quartermasters, and clerks. With their assistance, he laid out his most careful—and dangerous—plan yet.

The Teleporting Army

Impossibly, Shang Ssung—with a force 100 strong—marched on Shor Whistan on November 26.

Even more impossibly, they appeared to be on a mission of… peace.

The Emperor’s Procession
<Shor Whistan (42.53)>

The Wizard King Shang Ssung and his elite honor guard march a path towards the citadel of Shor Whistan, a trail of casual brutality in their wake. His captain of arms flies the banner of the Imperium Draconis flanked by the banner of the Lady Pennington, suggesting the nature of his party’s attendance. At the front of the procession, the High Priest of the Imperium, Ssab Tsero, holds aloft a halberd of thorns adorned with the viscera of defeated undead—the fruits of their patrolling.

“Take heart, sssitizens of Shor Whissstan,” Ssab Tsero proclaims in passing. “Wolfsssong lands are threatened from the sssouth, but the Divine Dragon’s Herald sssees much and hears much; he ignores not a greater threat nor a greater need.” The High Priest’s attendants toss small bags of gold, embroidered with a depiction of the Lady Pennington, to dutiful soldiers and pitiful refugees alike, as they carve a roundabout path towards the southern impact zone where, reports say, a tent camp is being erected.

Nearly to a man, the huge serpentine elites forming the proud patrol carry barrels, crates, and satchels, reportedly filled with diamonds, rare metals, and other royal gifts. The Wing-ed Serpent hovers ominously above the marching patrol, his luminous feathered wings buffeting his flaming greatsword and highlighting the skull of a celestial held at his left side.

(November 26, 2025)

To carry all that was necessary to construct Lord Desolith’s puppet corpus would have required well over 100 personnel. We brought insufficient materials.

For this, we had a quantity of gold pieces enough to transport 100 personnel across—at a cost of 50,000gp. Not only that, we brought an additional 50,000gp with us so that we could return. This vacation to the Eastern Lands was so absurdly expensive that no one in Drakonheim had yet done anything even close.

We set up our camp in the devastated impact zone south of the Citadel—the district holding the Crown and all important governmental institutions and headquarters.

Draconian Measures
<Shor Whistan (42.53)>

The banners of the Imperium Draconis fly proudly above the tents in the devastated impact zone south of the Shor Whistan Citadel. Already, the camp is an unceasing swirl of activity.

In the areas nearby, Bone Nagas under the command of massive Fang Warden officers remove debris from the roads, safely demolish toppling structures, and otherwise work to nullify hazards for incoming traffic. Designated pits within the camp’s perimeter house different varieties of categorized debris.

Imperial priests and their attendants place signage throughout the area, inviting alchemists and mages to exhibits on herbicidal experiments and lectures such as, “On the Unceasing Menace of Overambitious Flora and Its Potential Solutions.”

Meanwhile, an enormous wagon in the vague likeness of a quadruped is being constructed in the camp’s center. Its usable surface is without rails but onlookers have noted opulent seating, light fixtures, and elaborate columnar additions being installed.

(November 26, 2025)

Our researches into alchemy had produced a potent substance which the bramble wall would never be able to withstand. Before our arrival in Shor Whistan, the substance was already being mass produced—wagons filled with it would be headed to Stonia and, ultimately, to Owlhorn.

Herbs-to-Ash vial (uncommon)
(1 lb vial = 20 applications)

This poison is the result of successive refinements of Alchemist's Fire applied to a carefully prepared botanical suspension. A nutrient-rich, semi-liquid matrix of plant food acts as the vector for a slow-acting, persistent corrosive that burns the absorbing plant from within.

Conventional plants wither and die within 24 hours of application. A hardier plant exposed to this poison must make a DC 15 Constitution saving throw after 12 hours, taking 6d6 fire damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one.

A well-manned public lecture area presented the experimental results of Herbs-to-Ash, in all the various stages of execution. This, along with our “gifts” implied for the Day of Humility, constituted the surface-level legitimacy of our presence.

Most other members of our force were dedicated to scavenging the impact zone—and the areas near it—for valuable materials. Neat piles, organized by material type, were filled, hour after hour with the dreadful efficiency of undead servants and Cabal members who believed they may be on a suicide mission to enact a cosmic goal.

The remaining handful were on special missions with Shang Ssung or were working tirelessly to craft and polish the weave-defying apparatus to his precise specifications.

With enough material gathered, we could conceivably complete the corpus.

The only thing left was to find a way to murder Diana.

Misdirection Contingency

The remarkable thing about a city nearly destroyed is that anything appears “normal” to denizens there. The citizens barely reacted to seeing snake-men wander the devastated roads—especially if those snake-men were evicting the undead presence or clearing the roads.

Shang Ssung donned a (rather large) plain robe and hid his wings, going out under the cover of night to find a patrol of city guards. When he came upon them, an Undertracker distracted them with an exchange of questions & answers while Shang Ssung read from a scroll of Mass Suggestion. All but one were put under his spell—the one was restrained and taken away to be killed and dropped in a sub-city pit.

Shang Ssung’s command to the others was clear. Using their familiarity with the city and their understanding of its army’s doctrines and routines, they were to place themselves in a position that gave them the best chance of intercepting and killing the Aeon.

The command would last only 24 hours, and they would surely fail. Yet the very fact of their attempt would misdirect the council of wizards in the city—Spellgrave, Teruel, and the Aeon (and potentially others)—away from Shang Ssung’s true target.

Interference of the Gods

On November 27th, the Day of Humility arrives. The Lady Diana is making her rounds, out among the public. Even among the devastated city streets, the cheer of celebration is in the air.

The vision calls to Shang Ssung, boiling over in his soul. Looking at his “hands,” he can nearly see the blood of Diana dripping from the snakes’ heads.

But a rumor gives him pause. The Gods had promised the city leaders that the city would not come under attack that day.

Shang Ssung, nervously petting the snake wearing his ring of wishes, went to see the progress on the corpus. It was not yet finished but would be completed by morning.

Very well. Let the Gods have their day. This would complicate matters extraordinarily with the soldiers attempting to kill the Aeon. But Ruin would find a way.

The Sacrifice of Diana Pennington

The brisk, wet morning reminded Shang Ssung of the great rivers in the Underdark.

How far he had come…

The corpus was completed. Shang Ssung performed the indecipherable rites to give it motion but commanded that it lie deathly still.

Undertrackers had scoured the city, creating dense layers of maps describing Diana’s likely movements. They knew where she would be within the hour. In the past few days, her guard had been minimal—Shang Ssung would have no difficulty dispatching them.

He had spent the previous day going over careful plans with his attendant Undertrackers—precise instructions to be followed carefully. He donned his equipment and set off into another city quarter with them.

A returning Undertracker met him at the camp exit with a scroll ripped from a public board: the city had been put under martial law.

Target Sighted

Diana could be consistently be found—in the morning hours—at an isolated section of the city, now largely abandoned. Shang Ssung made his way there swiftly, through routes minimizing his party’s visibility—the Undertrackers had served him well.

When he arrived, the Undertrackers were concerned. They could not find the posted guards. But there, all alone in the street, was Diana Pennington.

Shang Ssung shoved them aside and marched his way to her, satisfied that his faith had been rewarded once more. When he was close—more than close enough to kill—she looked up.

And he froze.

Machinations Within Machinations

Shang Ssung was not unfamiliar with humans. He had seen many thousands of them, in many varieties. He had seen them fit and ill, angry and heartbroken. He had seen them defeated and victorious.

The smile Diana Pennington gave him was diabolical. “I have been waiting for you.” She gave an evil laugh.

Shang Ssung took a step back, eyes wide.

Diana Pennington’s evil essence swirled around them like a red mist. Her body collapsed, but the laughter continued. The mist gathered into a fine line, forming itself into a circle and landing on… the strange ring.

Diana Pennington was an agent of The Speaker.

Reeling, Shang Ssung looked all around to see if there were witnesses. His Undertrackers stared, weapons drawn and mouths wide in shock, at the lifeless body and back to Shang Ssung.

“You know what to do. Do it.” Shang Ssung finally commanded. “Quickly.”

The Undertrackers put away their weapons. One hauled the body, while the other opened a satchel of special instruments. They vanished, bound to another city quarter. Shang Ssung turned to make his way back.

The ring whispered to him on his way back to camp. Diana’s essence, it said, could be called forth to do his bidding. Why—and how—were meaningless to him at the time¹⁶, a vortex of questions leading only to madness.

The Lord of Ruin could see so much farther than he ever could. He would not be distracted; he must complete the summoning.

The Queen’s Absence
<Shor Whistan (42.53)>

Rumors say that Queen Diana is missing. Investigating soldiers plying casual questions have elicited too much suspicion, and the news spreads like wildfire across every city quarter.

Everywhere citizens go, they are asked if they’ve seen the Queen. Stories both lurid and horrid are stamped out to maintain discipline, but the concern for the Queen’s safety weighs on the psyche of a city already in great distress.

Where is the Queen? Is this the reason for the declaration of martial law?

(November 28, 2025)

---

Psychic Shock

The Undertrackers did their part. Shang Ssung made it to camp and waited atop the corpus as the Two-Sight Priests were double- and triple-checking their detailings.

Within the hour, he felt something… change.

Queen Diana Found Murdered!
<Shor Whistan (42.53)>

Queen Diana’s mutilated body was spotted in a devastated market square northwest of the Merchant Gate, originally repurposed as an inspection waypoint. Despite the attempts of sentries and patrolmen to cordon off the area, the foul sight of her suffering was intentionally placed in a cruel display visible from afar.

Tied to a tree by thorned vines, her once-fair skin was blackened by a poison which left her with an agonized expression. Deep cuts in her arms and torso appear to have sprouted weeds, and her exposed skin is scarred as if by a thousand thorns.

Shock, grief, and despair flood the streets of Shor Whistan in response to this incomprehensible atrocity.

(November 28, 2025)

---

Shang Ssung could feel, almost hear & almost taste, the horror spreading through the city. From the elated highs of the Day of Humility—thrust even higher by lofty gifts and excessive good will & fellowship—the city was descending into the lowest pits of grief and despair.

The mother and caretaker over the denizens of Shor Whistan was gone. Not just gone but brutally murdered, so they believed.

And their belief was enough.

Shang Ssung could feel the weave retreating from the corpus. Metal groaned all around him as the city despaired. He could feel, distantly, a power reaching to him from beyond the beyond. Energy entirely unlike magic flowed all around him, centered on his head. Such power! he thought.

But before long, it overwhelmed him. It was more than he could control.

Far more.

Explosion at the Imperium Draconis Camp
<Shor Whistan (42.53)>

A devastating arcane explosion shook the southern impact zone. Those nearby reported Bone Nagas and Imperial yuan-ti priests slaving away at a gargantuan “wagon” in the likeness of a great serpent. Collected from the debris and rubble of the surrounding area, the various parts of the wagon slowly took shape as artisans worked the humble material into an imperious draconic form.

But as the last piece was laid, witnesses say, a blinding purple-white light shone from the wagon. Before anything could be discerned, the explosion rocked the ground, tossing remnants of tents and piles of material far and wide.

What of the camp’s emperor, Shang Ssung? Is he injured? Dead?

The situation is unknown because eyewitnesses fled from a bone-chilling roar emanating from the camp’s center.

(November 28, 2025)

Ruin Walks the Earth

The explosion had blinded him, but Shang Ssung could see… Him. Without the aid of his eyes, Shang Ssung knew that the corpus was no longer; Ruin had inhabited the gap in the weave and remade the body whole in His Own Image.

“My Lord… the political situation is not in ou-” his voice vanished as the gargantuan incarnation of Ruin craned its neck to look at him.

Shang Ssung prostrated himself. A flood of imagery tumbled through his mind. The Lord of Ruin knew, of course. He knew everything and much more. What should have been a whisper thundered in his mind: “Go to the Tree.” No response was necessary.

Ruin took its first step and trotted calmly out of the wreckage of the camp. Onlookers fell to the ground, paralyzed by the sight.

Shang Ssung rose from the ground and summoned Diana from the ring.

Anger of the Gods
<Shor Whistan (42.53)>

An earthquake. Not in the land but in the deepest pits of the hearts of men.

In the vault where they keep their worst fears.

“Tremble,” a sound bellows in the minds of the inhabitants of Drakonheim, “for the Gods have sent me...”

Impossibly swift, every motion threatening Divine violence. His gaze alone causes mortals to drown in fear.

“...to enact Vengeance.”

A massive dragon construct, graceful and violent beyond comprehension, stalks the streets of Shor Whistan, eyeing the devastation.

“The Divine Seam is Nature’s antithesis. In the hands of Nature’s disciples, it is an ABOMINATION.”

Birds retreat from the treetops, and wildland creatures flee the corrupted forests as the earth rumbles from a guttural roar of a Divine avatar of Vengeance.

Those foolish enough to glimpse his form swear they saw Queen Diana riding atop his back.

(November 28, 2025)¹⁷

Shor Whistan Outmaneuvered

Immediately after Diana’s body was found, all the groups in Shor Whistan started blaming one another. SEEN posts blamed the goblins who had come to quell undead. Someone even blamed the Archmage Teruel.

“Only other place I’ve ever seen poison like that, I was rooting goblins out of their blasted holes.”

“Did you hear how she was strung up? Classic goblin cruelty.”

“I heard the goblins got a shipment of some crazy vials from Archmage Teruel a few nights ago… you don’t think…?”

The situation was so bad that King Theomar released an official royal decree that an investigation was under way and that no evidence linked the goblin helpers (or other Shor Whistan allies) to the murder of his wife.

Lord Desolith had the perfect plan. Diana’s death was the answer to both His summoning and to the political fallout—for He could masquerade as the solution, sent from the Gods themselves to avenge her and to avenge Shor Whistan. After the intense bombardment of crises the city had experienced, this was a killing blow to any chance they had of undermining the Lord of Ruin.

It was pure genius.

The Cabal Escapes

Following Lord Desolith’s directive, we used the explosion as a cover to leave the city, violating the declaration of martial law under the guise of emergency.

“Their banners were torn and scorched and their numbers seemed few. The giant serpents were favoring legs or nursing wounds. To a man, the living ones were covered in their own blood or carrying wounded priests. Cot after cot passed us by. Even the undead were in a sorry state, many hobbling or using their hands to march.”

“As the end of the line came, the guards shouted us back with nervous urgency. But I saw it: a huge gurney, hauled by the healthiest, held a giant occupant draped in dozens of blood-drenched banners. The priests hissed over the gurney resolutely as we were shoved back.”

Shang Ssung went to work immediately, ensuring the army logistics were all sound. All that was left was to retrieve and destroy the Divine Seam.

The Humans Thirst for Ruin

Lord Desolith’s displays and plots were working wonders.

I had commanded Diana to follow Him and to aid in His deceptions and—most importantly, of course—to follow His commands without question or hesitation. To the people of Shor Whistan, seeing the two of them together created a motive force that could not be stopped.

Lord Desolith had successfully brought the powers of the Eastern Lands under his influence. The soldiers and heroes of nearly all of Drakonheim would serve as His weapon.

A Divine Sign in Shor Whistan
<Shor Whistan 42.53>

Whispers across the Capital now speak of the crystalline dragon not with fear, but with a growing sense of reverence. What first appeared as a terrifying apparition has shifted into something many citizens now interpret as a blessing. In the ruins of recent tragedies, the sight has become a symbol that Shor Whistan is not abandoned, but acknowledged.

Several witnesses claim they saw a figure atop the creature, cloaked in radiant light, serene in the storm of chaos. As rumors spread, more voices have insisted the same truth: It was Saint Diana. The Queen, martyred and mourned, appearing not as a victim but as a guiding presence astride a divine beast. Whether vision, spirit, or miracle, the claim has gripped the Capital. Priests call it a sign of transcendence. Mages whisper that such manifestations emerge only when the veil between mortal and higher realms shifts in favor of a chosen people.

Citizens who once trembled now speak of the dragon’s passage as a message: a declaration that the Crown’s struggle for order and survival resonates with powers far above the city’s walls. The crystalline dragon acted with precision but inflicted no harm, observing devastation as if judging the worth of Shor Whistan’s resilience.

Across taverns, shrines, and marketplaces, one idea has begun to spread: Diana has not forsaken her people. Her presence upon the dragon’s back is taken by many as a sign that she intercedes beyond death, guiding the city’s path, lending divine weight to its restoration. As Shor Whistan strengthens its defenses, the belief grows that a higher force is watching, approving, measuring, perhaps even blessing the city’s resolve. In this, many find renewed courage.

Whether apparition or omen, the dragon and its radiant rider have given the Capital something it desperately needed: the sense that Shor Whistan’s destiny is witnessed by the Gods themselves.

(November 30, 2025)¹⁸

---

A World War

In a single stroke, the Lord of Ruin caused the entirety of Drakonheim to take up arms for an all-out war.

Avatar of Vengeance Flies Towards Bramblemarsh
<Shor Whistan 42.53>

Witnesses report that the colossal dragon, now called by terrified survivors the Avatar of Vengeance, has risen from the shattered streets where it first appeared.

The air vibrated with a pressure that felt like the threat of judgment itself as the creature unfurled its vast, metallic wings.

Before launching skyward, the dragon turned its burning gaze east, toward the Central Sea, toward Bramblemarsh.

A voice—not spoken, but imposed—echoed across minds for miles:

“The Root of Corruption festers. I strike at the Tree.”

With a single beat of its wings, the creature ascended—a streak of divine violence carving through the clouds.

(December 1, 2025)

Shor Whistan was calling all vassals: mass recruitment had begun. Ships were sailing, armies were marching. The machine was running hot.

Tradehold declared war against Khallith Zal and Bramblemarsh, asserting its authority to police anything in Drakonheim that was a threat to civilization. They were bringing a powerful air army, including three heavy cruisers and their flagship. Things were going to get heavy with their forces in play.

The Imperium Draconis army, with its complement of Wolfsong forces, had arrived in Owlhorn and was making preparations and spraying Herbs-to-Ash en masse.

Into the Green Abyss
<Owlhorn (19.44)>

The forces deployed by the Lord’s Council in Greyfang, combined with the legion of troops waving the Imperium Draconis banner have moved into and through Owlhorn, spreading out into positions along its eastern plains.

The construction of great camps is already near completion, and guarded caravans sweep along the perimeter of gnarled brambles, returning after their circuit. Hunters and political observers report that the troops are methodically dousing lines of plant-life with a mysterious vapor extracted from heavy iron cases.

Skirmishes with the lizardmen seem all but inevitable, and the commanders of the army have bluntly told the city, in no uncertain terms, to expect war.

(December 2, 2025)

The entire world had been whipped into a bloodthirsty frenzy. Somehow, Shang Ssung sensed, this was part of an even grander ritual. The violence, the destruction, the blood of the fallen—all concentrated into an impossibly focused arena of mayhem.

Even in his wildest aspirational dreams, he could not have imagined it.

The main Cabal army, carefully positioned against breath weapons and Meteor Swarm attacks

The Imperium Draconis had broken through the bramble walls. Spitefully, they pressed on. The land would be smothered in Herbs-to-Ash.

Shang Ssung had made his preparations. He had brought a fighting force unmatched in soldiery and eagerness.

The Red Marsh March
<Owlhorn region (19.44, 20.44, 21.45, 21.44)>

War boils over already as forces under Imperium Draconis command have weathered vicious attacks by a black dragon. A swarm of meteors devastated material across the imperial camp outside Owlhorn, slaying many of the giant serpentine beasts which comprise Imperium forces. In the wild marshes, wave after wave of Wolfsong warriors litter the gruesome sites of the dragon’s attacks.

Yet, mass deployment of a devastating chemical compound has withered the dense wall of brambles at the northwestern perimeter of the marshes. Plant life all around is desiccated and withered nearly to ashes, and large swathes of marsh appear more like a desiccated wasteland. A burnt stench lingers thick in the murky air.

The recovered Emperor, the Wizard King Shang Ssung, made his presence known in Owlhorn, demanding swift and unquestioned executive authority. Declaring a state of emergency, the Shang Ssung conscripted all able-bodied men in Owlhorn to reinforce the town’s defenses, compile emergency supply stores, and to deploy as scouts and reserve forces in the marshlands. Those who protested met a swift end; the scarred Emperor seemed in no mood to brook disagreements.

Now, a massive force assembles, aimed squarely at the dark tree in the swamp’s epicenter. Terrified conscripts spread killing chemicals over ground crushed by the deadly march of an imperial brigade.

There will be blood.

(December 3, 2025)

What would they encounter at the Dark Tree? How would the battle play out?

No mortal in Drakonheim could have predicted the outcome.

The Battle of The Five Tyrants

<Dark Tree, Bramblemarsh 23.48>

This entire section, The Battle of Five Tyrants, is the result of the collision of a huge number of players onto a single battlegrounds in the Bramblemarsh—the fortress at the Dark Tree.

There were far too many players to run this battle with all present. Instead, it was run entirely by Serious, who spent days carefully sorting side-based orders and resolving collisions as they occurred. Sometimes, he would correspond with players to ask their response to specific sightings or events. But overall, the battle was not run in a reactive “real-time” manner—it was run properly, in the grand scale befitting its epic scale & scope.

All that you see written here¹⁹, aside from my commentary blocks, is Serious’s battle turn resolutions written up descriptively, rather than mechanically. The battle takes course over only a single day but took many days to resolve; the dates mark the real-life day that the report was posted—not when it took place.

Armies Converge on the Dark Tree

(December 4th, 2025)
Scouts and foragers near Bramblemarsh report the same impossible sight: the Avatar of Vengeance is coming to the Dark Tree.

The colossal dragon, with its metallic wings cutting through cloudbanks like scythes of death, has been seen streaking westward from Shor Whistan.

the Avatar of Vengeance’s journey

As it neared the corrupted skyline of Bramblemarsh, the air itself went still. Then came the voice.

“Khallith Zal.
Bearer of the Abomination.
Face judgment.”

The Avatar flew on, unhesitating toward the towering black silhouette of the Tree. Those who saw its trajectory say there is no doubt: it is heading straight for the lizardman king, and it is not coming to negotiate.

---

As the Avatar of Vengeance streaks toward Bramblemarsh, five colossal shapes rise from the twisted canopy. Each one unmistakable, each one the stuff of legend.

Five ancient dragons.
Five colors of ruin.
The fabled Tyrants all in one place.

High above the rotting boughs, they now perch like living war-gods: a red shimmering with molten heat, a white exhaling curtains of frost, a black dripping venomous smoke, a green wreathed in toxic haze, and a blue crackling with stormlight. Their wings spread wide over the canopy, casting shadows that stretch for miles in the morning light.

They wait like executioners at their post.

Though Khallith Zal has not emerged from the Dark Tree, there is no doubt whose banner these ancient tyrants serve. The lizardman king’s allies have formed a bulwark atop the world’s most corrupted monument.

---

As the Avatar of Vengeance hurtles toward the Dark Tree, another force descends from the skies.

Four airships of Tradehold have swept down from the upper clouds in a spearhead formation: one massive flagship at the center, flanked by three smaller escorts.

The vessels bristle with armaments. From the central flagship, the largest of the fleet, wyverns and their riders now launch into the air in disciplined waves, peeling off the deck and banking toward the Dark Tree with grim intent. Their screeches echo faintly across the marsh, carried on the choking, stagnant wind.

The dragons perch atop the canopy.
The Avatar bears down like a falling star.
And now the airships join the sky above Bramblemarsh.

The greatest battle of the age is converging on the Tree.

---

From the northwest of the Bramblemarsh the Imperium Draconis marches.

the full marching route taken by Shang Ssung’s army

Emperor Shang Ssung, the dreaded yuan-ti and ruler of the Imperium, is personally leading a massive ground force toward the Dark Tree. His army moves in a disciplined, murderous tide: human conscripts, yuan-ti abominations, bone nagas slithering over the dead reeds, and ranks of archers marching under terrible banners.

Ahead of them, the marsh dies.

The Emperor’s soldiers carry the noxious compound used to breach the bramble wall. A blistering, toxic brew that sears plant life into gray husks and leaves the once-living swamp as a scorched wasteland under their feet. The path behind them will not recover for generations.

Despite repeated attacks from the Swamp Tyrant, despite the meteor swarm that devastated their advance camps, Shang Ssung’s forces do not falter. The Emperor himself marches at the front, towering and serpentine, his many eyes burning with single-minded purpose.

He expects to arrive after the divine beast strikes the Tree. He is coming to capitalize on the chaos.

---

Chaos Erupts! The Battle Begins

(December 6th, 2025)
High atop the Dark Tree, the Five Tyrants crouched among the branches, their ancient eyes fixed on the distant sky where the Avatar of Vengeance hurled toward them. All attention—dragon and lizardman alike—was fixed on the approaching divine threat.

Then the horns began to blow.

From the northeast, out of the marshy ground itself, forces erupted into the open. Scores of new lizardman warriors. And some unknown wyvern riders. For a heartbeat the defenders hesitated, stunned by the sudden appearance of an entirely new army. But they knew that this had to be a trick and sounded the alarm.

The battle ignited.

A massive purple worm burst from the ground and devoured a section of the outer wall outright. Though the creature was slain seconds later under waves of arrows from the outer wall defense, the damage was done. The invaders had a doorway wide enough for an army.

Moments later the foreign wyvern riders blasted the wall archers from their positions, leaving none alive. Tree-perched archers and tower sentries unleashed volleys, filling the air with black-fletched arrows. Their shots tore into the new riders sweeping in, shredding the formation. Wyvern-mounted lizardman captains dove from the canopy in a lethal wedge, scattering the survivors. What remained of the foreign riders broke and fled toward the Tradehold fleet overhead, only six riders out of twenty-five still alive.

---

At the same time, branch-mounted ballistae hammered a cohort of Shor Whistan guards advancing near the breach. The barrage devastated them so completely that the survivors fled back toward the ground they appeared from.

Gate defenders reeled as earth elementals surged up from the soil, smashing lizardmen ranks against the stone. Through the breach poured goblins, wolves, priests, bandits, and hardened veterans—flooding straight into the stronghold courtyard. Eastern wall archers were overwhelmed and cut down. Ballista crews were torn apart before they could reload. The courtyard filled with the bodies of the fallen as Shor Whistan forces pressed deeper.

But the defenders struck back.

Tower-mounted ballistae rained bolts into the charging companies, crippling a mage contingent and forcing it to retreat. Veterans too were battered nearly to collapse before battlefield priests surged forward to keep them standing.

The invaders from Shor Whistan have seized a foothold inside the courtyard itself.

Lizardmen wyvern riders dominate the skies under the canopy of the Tree, but Tradehold’s airships are descending fast, launching their own wyvern riders from their decks like arrows loosed from a bow.

The Avatar of Vengeance will strike now. And the Tyrants rise to meet him.

Where is Khallith Zal?

---

Once the attackers forced their way through the outer walls and spilled into the courtyard, the Swamp Tyrant unleashed a devastating earthquake. The ground split apart in three immense fractures that tore through the courtyard floor. Dozens of Captain MacBurton’s troops and King Stinkfist’s goblins vanished into those chasms before they could even react.

Two Instant Fortresses then crashed down from the Tradehold ships overhead. Their iron walls slammed into place, giving Stinkfist’s and MacBurton’s people the first real cover they had all battle. Arrows and ballista bolts hammered against the fortress walls, but the deadly barrage from the Dark Tree’s branches and the stone towers could no longer reach the troops inside.

From the roofs of these fortresses rose swift air elementals. They hurled themselves upward into the twisted canopy, ripping apart the artillery pieces that had been slaughtering the troops below. By the time they were done, most of the Dark Tree’s upper ballista nests were wrecked, though the elementals paid for it.

The lizardman wyvern riders—the Thornguards—swooped low through the chaos to ferry their druids, the Rotcallers, into position. From the backs of wyverns the Rotcallers conjured vast swarms of stinging insects that flooded into the courtyard and tormented the goblins and sailors within the fortresses. The defenders inside shot back, bringing down several wyverns. Then a hidden spellcaster drifting invisibly through the air struck with blasts that caught multiple Rotcallers and Thornguards unawares, knocking the riders from their saddles. Their bodies tumbled from the sky and smashed into the courtyard below. Only four wyverns still circled overhead from the original ten.

---

The God-Rival Revealed

Above the carnage, high on the canopy, the Avatar of Vengeance crashed into the Tyrants. Its breath poured out in a wave of rotting cold, and its tail smashed the Ember Tyrant and Dune Tyrant to the ground. But all five Tyrants struck back at once, tearing deep wounds into the Avatar. A heartbeat later a meteor swarm exploded across the treetop, leaving all the Tyrants scorched and battered but still fighting. Wyvern riders darted through the drifting ash to hurl volleys of crackling spellfire at them.

Then the air shimmered with sudden flashes of steel. Blades appeared and vanished in an instant by each Tyrant’s neck. The heads of the Ember Tyrant and the Dune Tyrant toppled into the branches below. A woman’s laughter drifted on the wind.

Before that sound had faded, the canopy itself shuddered. Something tore free from a vast cocoon hidden within the heartwood of the Dark Tree. A monstrous shape rose into view—scaled, rotted, fungal, enormous. Two vast mold-slick wings spread and shed clouds of spores. Five dragon heads lifted, each one a different chromatic color, each leaking a twisted fusion of draconic energy and poisonous vapors. And burning at the creature’s core was a brilliant divine light.

Was this the work of the Divine Seam? Of Khallith Zal?

The lizardfolk in the fortress seemed to believe so. Their cries rose over the battlefield: “Great Thorn who Devours! Rise to godhood, Swamp Lord! Devour the world!”

---

The Thorn That Devours did not hesitate. A single burst of radiance erupted from its body and tore the Avatar of Vengeance apart, scattering his pieces to a dark wind.

At that moment seven brass dragons blinked into existence around the Thorn. They breathed fire and acid, struck with claws and tails, hammered at every head and wing. The Thorn did not seem to care. Behind them, two floating eye angels revealed themselves and fired a barrage of deadly rays. The Thorn barely flinched.

Then the creature released a roar that shook the entire Tree. A shockwave burst outward and stripped every spell from the air, from the courtyard to the highest boughs. The dragon shapes of the attackers melted away. Spellgrave, Cloudsinger, the Aeon, Vael, Sarik, King Theomar, and the Arbiter plummeted into the branches in their true forms.

They looked up at the vast silhouette looming over them. The Thorn That Devours glared down with five hungry heads, and for the first time since the battle began, fear found them.

Will they withstand what comes next?

---

(Interlude: Shang Ssung’s perspective)

CURSES! The druid had summoned all the accumulated power of the Divine Seam into a weapon fit to eliminate his strongest foe. Lord Desolith’s incarnation was slain, his corpus scattered to the winds. Destroying the Divine Seam would be a near-impossible task now.

Far, far to the east and high above the highest parapets, Shang Ssung could feel the battle as it happened. The humans were weak.

His forces would join too late. The Owlhorn conscripts were deserting or going mad. The fortress blocking his force was well-manned and would take many hours to pass.

But he would not lose faith!

He readied the vial of Desolation poison.

The ring of three wishes was keening even before he spoke…

All-out Assault

(December 8th, 2025)
Spurred on by the armor automaton with a legendary sword, the earth elementals at the shattered gate drove hard into the lizardman infantry. The line finally broke. Panic rippled through the ranks, and the lizardmen fled straight across the sights of the sailors and goblins trapped behind the Instant Fortresses. The invaders did not hesitate. Arrows and shots tore into the fleeing warriors, cutting them down before they could reach cover.

Above them, the lizardman archers unleashed a storm of arrows at an outline of fluttering insects in the air—a strange shape revealed only by the swarm clinging to it. That invisible mage had just blasted the last Thornguards and Rotcallers from their wyvern saddles, sending them plummeting hundreds of feet to their deaths. The arrows whistled through the air by the hundreds, but only a handful struck, and those few seemed to do little.

Other archers turned their volleys upward toward the dwindling air elementals that were tearing apart the remaining lizardman artillery mounted in the branches and towers. The elementals were now at half their number, but their work was done. Every siege engine capable of harassing the goblins and sailors around the fortresses lay in ruins.

With the artillery silenced, the goblins and sailors surged from their cover and advanced toward the keep at the base of the Tree. Firebombs and flaming arrows arced through the air, bursting against the vast trunk and setting it alight in a hundred places. The attackers stormed the keep with the manic courage only goblins possess, sailors at their backs. Inside, they found only a scattered handful of defenders. The fighting was brief and brutal. Within moments the invaders were racing up the interior stairs, eager to cut down the archers who had been raining death on them from above.

The ground assault had become a running battle through the hollowed Tree and across its sprawling branches.

---

Behind them, on the ground below, a lone cleric and a mage knelt beside the broken remains of the Avatar of Vengeance.

“Vengeance reborn,” the cleric whispered. “Your king and allies need you. Carry us to him.”

Their magic flared in unison. Flesh knit. Wings reformed. The Avatar stirred. The two climbed onto its back as the divine creature rose once more into the sky²⁰, ascending toward the canopy to face its quarry: the Thorn That Devours—Khallith Zal joined with the Divine Seam, a being now reaching toward godhood.

But high above, the Thorn and the Five Tyrants were already locked in savage combat with the heroes who had dared to ambush them.

The Swamp Tyrant, a massive black dragon, stretched its arm and called a meteor swarm from the heavens. Burning stones hurtled down toward each Tradehold vessel. Horns blared and the airships pitched hard in evasive maneuvers, but the falling stars closed in too fast. Just as the meteors were about to smash into the decks, dozens of small projectiles fired upward from the ships and burst into wide white canopies of spider-silk. The makeshift shields absorbed much of the impact. The decks rocked under the force, but the vessels held. Shouts of triumph rose from the surviving crews, and captains barked orders to return fire. Now in range of the canopy, the fleet unleashed its weapons. The sky around the Tyrants erupted with fire and thunder.

But when the smoke drifted away, the Tyrants emerged with singed scales and fury. They swept toward the seven heroes with murder in their eyes.

---

The battle that followed was chaos made flesh. The dragons fought with fangs and blazing claws, all of them focusing on the hero called the Aeon. He managed to cast a spell strong enough to threaten even the Thorn That Devours, a banishment woven with pure celestial force. Only the monster’s overwhelming resilience held it in place. A moment later the Aeon fell beneath the onslaught, his final words drowned out as the Verdant Tyrant tore him apart and devoured what remained.

Cloudsinger answered with fury, releasing a blinding blast of light that scorched the Tyrants and the Thorn alike. The Swamp Tyrant staggered, eyes burned to ruin, though it still hunted its foes by scent and sound. The two eye-angels streaked in, lancing the Thorn with focused beams that carved smoking wounds across its scales.

The Arbiter and his wardens closed to melee, their blades burning with celestial fire. One blow from the Arbiter’s sword tore a deep gash across the Thorn’s chest. Vael tried to crush the creature’s mind with sorcery, but the spell slipped off the god-budding monster like water on stone. Spellgrave answered with a burst of blue fire from his staff, and Sarik’s sword sank deep between two scales on the creature’s flank.

King Theomar rose into the air on radiant wings, his sword raised high. “Meet vengeance born of crown and steel!” he shouted, and the vow carried enough holy power to steady the hearts of his companions. They shook off the dread that clawed at their spirits and pressed the attack again.

Bleeding from a dozen wounds, the Thorn laughed. Lightning exploded from all five of its mouths, washing over the heroes and leaving them smoking and scorched. Its claws swept out in a storm of strikes. Spellgrave dodged by inches, but Cloudsinger and Vael were caught and crushed in its grasp as the monster tightened its talons around them.

---

Now the Thorn bared its many fanged maws—two of them clamped tight around Cloudsinger and Vael—its eyes narrowing into predatory slits. The two spellcasters struggled in the monster’s grasp as the colossal creature drew in a terrible, radiant breath.

Then reality shuddered.

With a sound like tearing silk and cracking stone, an entire army of yuan-ti materialized behind the Thorn That Devours. A heartbeat earlier they had been a mile away—arrayed outside the west wall and far beneath the canopy—but now, through some dreadful magic, they stood upon the high boughs themselves. Hundreds hissed as one, weapons raised, the air shimmering with the residual stink of blood magic.

At their forefront towered Shang Ssung, the Anathema King.

His serpentine coils undulated across the living wood with impossible speed as he surged forward. The many heads of his serpents screamed war-cries as he swung his lordly scepter—a barbed, obsidian spike crowned with symbols of forgotten ophidian gods.

The blow struck the Thorn square in its fungal, scaled hide. The weapon barely pierced the monstrous flesh… but the Thorn froze.

The serpents on Shang Ssung’s body writhed and cackled with pleasure as a virulent arcane venom coursed down the scepter and into the abomination’s veins. It was a poison not meant for mortals—an alchemical blight brewed for one purpose only: to challenge even the divine.

“The Battle of Five Tyrants”, an illustration by @yarnrespecter

---

The Thorn staggered.
Its wings faltered.
Fungal growths around its wounds blackened.

For an instant—just an instant—the creature went stiff and gray, as if fossilizing from the inside out.

Cloudsinger and Vael felt the grip around them loosen.

But then the Thorn’s divine resilience ignited like a furnace within its heart.
The rot reversed.
The corpse-gray faded.
The monster drew a long, rasping breath that set every branch trembling.

Five heads snapped toward the Anathema King.

“I… will break you…” hissed the Thorn That Devours, its voices overlapping in a chorus of venom and divinity.

And the canopy shuddered as the battle turned yet again.

---

Mayhem Reigns

(December 9th, 2025)
Above the chaos, the airships of Tradehold shifted formation, fire rings roaring as they closed in around the canopy. Speaking-horns flared to life, projecting a voice that rolled across the Tree like thunder.

“This is Fleet Admiral Iskander Vale,” came the sharp, commanding bark. “Captain of the Argent Crown, Flagship of the Navy of the Tradehold Dominion. By authority of Governor Thadrim Squall, this airspace is now restricted. All forces defending this area will remain grounded and will not approach.”

The brass funnels crackled as Vale’s final words boomed through the smoke:

“Stand down or be put down.”

---

(December 10th, 2025)
Far below the shuddering canopy, the battle on the ground raged with renewed fury.

Air elementals—those still surviving the gauntlet of arrows—whirled like storm-spirits through the eastern boughs, smashing into lizardman perches. Warriors were hurled screaming from their platforms, plummeting through the smoke-choked air to be broken on the roots below. Soon the eastern branches of the Tree were nearly swept clean. The few lizardmen who remained alive fled in panic, clawing upward through the foliage, scrambling desperately to reach what they hoped was the safety of their newborn god.

Inside the trunk itself, the fighting grew even more savage. Goblins swarmed like a green tide through the culverts and side passages, King Stinkfist at their head, cackling and driving them on with deranged zeal. In their wake, armored sailors of The Kraken Express thundered up the spiraling interior stairs, Captain MacBurton leading the charge in disciplined wedges of shield and crossbow. Deprived of guidance since their wyvern-rider commanders fell from the sky, the lizardmen were caught off balance—leaderless, panicked, and outnumbered.

Brutality reigned. Half the lizardman defenders were pierced and tossed aside. Goblins and sailors pushed upward floor by floor, driven onward by the steady prayers and healing magic of the priests climbing behind them. Each landing fell faster than the last. The interior of the Tree was becoming a tomb.

---

Outside the northeast garrison tower, the last lizardman sentries watched in horror as earth elementals smashed the foundations apart with stone fists. A gleaming, floating suit of armor swooped around them, its blade flickering with deadly arcs of steel. Their tower groaned—and then began to collapse beneath them.

But all of that fury paled beside the nightmare unfolding above the canopy.

The Thorn That Devours towered over the boughs, raging like a five-headed storm. The Arbiter and his wardens hurled themselves against the monster’s hide in desperate formation, blades blazing with celestial light. Spellgrave answered with another sunburst of blue fire; Sarik the assassin danced through snapping jaws to drive his blade deep between two fungal scales; Theomar slashed with a sword of pure radiance as his angelic wings beat the air; and Cloudsinger tore free of the Thorn’s grip in a flash of teleportive light.

From nowhere, the invisible mage who had slain the Thornguards struck at the Thorn, unleashing a spell of domination so powerful it nearly sent the Thorn to its knees. For a heartbeat, the god-born horror buckled—only to burn through the spell with the last flicker of its divine reserves, snarling in defiance.

Then the Tyrants descended.

---

With howls of ancient hatred, the three dragons slammed into the heroes. The Frozen Tyrant tore Theomar from the sky and devoured him whole, casting his radiant wings aside. Sarik nearly suffered the same fate, but his uncanny reflexes saved him from the first killing blow—though not for long.

Tradehold’s airships answered with fire and thunder from the sky. Arcane blasts hammered the Frozen Tyrant, ripping flesh and bone apart until the great white wyrm fell from the sky in a trail of smoking flesh. From the west, the Imperium Draconis joined in, over hundreds of bone nagas unleashing torrents of searing flame upon the Thorn. The abomination’s scales blistered and split—yet still it laughed.

Because it held Vael fast in one claw.

The warlock’s body began to twist, horns sprouting, bones reshaping as he invoked a forbidden transformation—an infernal metamorphosis that would have turned him into a demon born of the Hells themselves.

But the Thorn released a pulse of invisible force.

A field of crackling, anti-magical pressure spread from the Thorn and enveloped it. Vael’s transformation collapsed in on itself; the warlock gasped in horror as his power evaporated.

---

The Thorn laughed—and swallowed him whole.

Sarik, still staggering from the dragons’ onslaught, fell next. One sweeping claw bisected him, and the beast devoured what remained.

Then all five of its heads turned toward Shang Ssung.

The Thorn lunged.

One claw seized the Anathema King, wrapping around his writhing snake-body in a crushing grip. The anti-magic field shimmered around them—nullifying spell, charm, venom, relic, every sacred or profane trick the serpent-king possessed. Shang Ssung understood at once: neither spell nor artifact would answer him here.

But just as the Thorn coiled to devour him, the sky split with a roar.

The Avatar of Vengeance rose above the canopy, wings beating with divine wrath, carrying the cleric who had reborn him and the archmage who guided him. At the peak of its ascent the Avatar opened its maw—

—and a torrent of corrupted fire washed across the Thorn’s back, scorching fungal wings and boiling the flesh beneath.

The Thorn screamed in fury.

The Avatar leapt upon him with inevitable resolve.

“I am your ruin…”

---

(December 11th, 2025)
The goblins and sailors—bloodied, smoke-streaked, and triumphant—pulled back to the base of the Tree to hold what they had taken. They had barely secured the lower keep when the western outer towers emptied. Fresh ranks of lizardmen poured out, desperate to reclaim the mighty Tree trunk, starting from the ground. The sailors braced their shields against the breach, and the goblins snarled defiance atop the battlements. Together they held, turning the base of the Dark Tree into a fortress of their own.

To the east, the surviving earth elementals lumbered toward the last standing tower. Its twin had already collapsed in a heap of shattered stone. The remaining garrison did not wait to suffer the same fate. Scores of lizardmen charged down the ramp, slamming into the elementals in a frenzied melee that shook the ground itself.

Under the canopy, Tradehold’s ships descended into the burning gloom. Their wyvern riders swept low, unleashing gouts of spellfire into the upper platforms inside the trunk. Great blossoms of lightning and flame erupted through the interior hollows. Lizardmen shrieked and fled upward, abandoning perch after perch. The fires first kindled by goblin firebombs now roared out of control—fanned by explosions and the relentless bombardment from above. The Dark Tree’s heartwood smoldered. Its fall was now inevitable.

But above the canopy, where the last true battle raged, time itself seemed to hold its breath.

The cleric astride the Avatar of Vengeance stretched out his arms and cast a storm of holy fire across the boughs. The Swamp Tyrant and the Verdant Tyrant reeled, scales blackening. The archmage beside him dissolved into swirling arcane essence and reshaped himself as a colossal ape, leaping from the Avatar’s back to crash down upon the Verdant Tyrant with fists like falling mountains.

---

The Verdant Tyrant, mortally wounded yet terrible still, lashed out in a final frenzy. A torrent of caustic venom engulfed the angels, eating at their radiant wings. He and the Swamp Tyrant wheeled upon Spellgrave, the black dragon’s lips curling back in anticipation.

“I have waited long to savor your fear, Spellgrave…”

Lightning leapt from the mage’s staff as he and Cloudsinger fell back—but it only sharpened the two Tyrants’ hunger.

Then the Arbiter appeared behind the Swamp Tyrant in a blink of light.

“Nothing personal, kid.”

The angel tipped his actual fedora and drove his radiant blade deep into the wyrm’s spine.²¹

And before the dying dragon could even roar, another blade shimmered into existence—swift, precise, merciless. In a single breath, both the Swamp Tyrant and the Verdant Tyrant were beheaded. Their colossal heads tumbled through the branches as a woman’s delighted laughter rippled through the smoke.

The Tyrants were gone.

But victory lasted only a heartbeat.

---

From every surviving perch of the Dark Tree, lizardmen archers flooded upward onto the canopy, loosing a storm of black-fletched death. Hundreds of arrows filled the sky. The Arbiter, his wardens, and his witnesses—already battered by dragonfire—were cut down in an iron downpour. One by one, the angels fell.

Cloudsinger reacted first, raising a shining wall of force around herself and Spellgrave just as the storm of arrows struck. Outside their safety, the last angels died.

Now only two powers remained:

the Thorn That Devours, god-born abomination
—and—
the reborn Avatar of Vengeance, named Ruin.

Magic still guttered in the Thorn’s antimagic haze, but the Avatar dove at him regardless. The Thorn struck first. Five heads lunged. One claw seized the Avatar by the throat and drove him into the bough behind, cracking the wood. A blast of mixed draconic fury—acid, lightning, poison, frost, and flame all twisted together—roared from the Thorn’s maws.

The Avatar took the full force.

Behind him, dozens of yuan-ti and naga simply ceased to exist, burned to smoke. Shang Ssung staggered, his serpents shrieking in agony.

But Ruin did not fall.

---

He tore free, his claws rending into the Thorn’s chest, digging deeper, deeper—until they closed around something hidden within the monster’s heart. The Thorn’s five heads snapped wide in shock.

The Avatar tore free what was in his grasp.

Shang Ssung, bleeding from every scale, smiled a wicked, broken smile.

The Avatar crushed what he held.

“I am Ruin…”

The sun vanished—blotted out by a white detonation so bright it erased shadow, color, and depth. Then came the sound: a single catastrophic crack, like creation being split down the middle.

The canopy did not burn. It did not falter.
It ceased.

Every branch. Every leaf. Every perch. Gone in an instant—vaporized. The Dark Tree was reduced to a charred, skeletal trunk jutting into a boiling sky.

The shockwave tore outward in all directions. Tradehold’s airships were hurled from the heavens, alarms blaring as they spiraled toward the ground. Charred lizardmen rained like ash.

Only Cloudsinger and Spellgrave survived, suspended inside their shimmering sphere of force as the world below turned to ruin.

And then, above the smoldering remains—at the very place where the Anathema King had stood—

the air itself tore.

A rift stretched wide in the sky like a wound in the fabric of existence. Black as old blood, it spread across the firmament, widening second by second into a void that swallowed light.

“I am the End of All Things…” came Ruin’s voice.

The earth all around began to tremble and heave.

---

Around the smoking ruins of the Dark Tree, among the rumbling of the earth, a terrible presence settled. When the blast-light faded and the ash stopped falling, only two figures remained: Spellgrave, scorched and barely upright, and Cloudsinger, drifting inside her sphere of force. Everything else—every soul, every titan—was gone.

The Aeon and his radiant legions.
King Theomar and his champions.
Sarik the assassin. Vael, his cleric and archmage.
The Tyrants.
The Thorn That Devours.
Even Shang Ssung and the vast serpentine host.

All erased. All consumed by the impossible force of the explosion.

But as Spellgrave surveyed the devastation, understanding dawned with dreadful clarity. The Avatar of Vengeance—whom all had believed to be a weapon of justice sent against the Thorn—was no such thing. It had been the Avatar of Desolith, the Elder God of Ruin, wearing the mask of retribution to ensure no one questioned its arrival.

And once it crushed the Thorn and wrenched the Divine Seam from his body, the truth became inevitable: with the Seam shattered, nothing remained to suppress the ritual Shang Ssung had prepared in secret. The Anathema King had never intended to win the battle. He had intended to lose.

For long he had gathered the materials, the sacrifices, the forbidden components. Long had he waited for the Seam to be drawn into the open, knowing its destruction was the final key. In the final instant—even as the Thorn battled him, even as the heroes struck from all sides—Shang Ssung had already succeeded.

He had fed his armies, himself, and the very battlefield into the summoning. He had tricked the world into providing the last conditions required for Desolith to enter existence once more.

Khallith Zal and the Tyrants had fallen.

The Thorn had fallen.

The champions of good had fallen.

And in doing so, they had cleared the way for something far worse.

Desolith, the Elder God of Ruin, would take the first breath of a new age.

And he would soon arrive.

The End of All Things?

Standing on the shoulders of Trollopulous and Dubzaron²², Drakonheim reached for the sky and refused to stumble. Without the penetrating insights of Jeffro Johnson, without the relentless drive to prove through play and lean into experiments from Bdubs1776, Drakonheim could not have achieved the exalted state that gives its destruction real weight and meaning.

Methodology and Philosophy

No one in the world could replicate this result except the BrOSR, and that is a direct testament to the success of the Braunstein conceptualization and methodology of play²³. The world of Drakonheim, owing to the soundness of the Braunstein and the commitment of its players to hold the campaign above all else, was stunningly real in ways that other methodologies simply cannot capture.

The investment of months of real-life consideration, play, action, victory, and loss were at stake at all times. That alone lent enormous weight to the decisions players made and breathed life into the characters they controlled. Knowing that everything you have is at stake and that the other players are operating on the same dynamic is liberating and allows for leaning into character & faction roles in a way that other methodologies can only mimic.

The Bleeding Edge of 5E Play

Like all BrOSR campaigns, Drakonheim put things to the test which others could only theorycraft about. It began as an experiment to lean on D&D 5th Edition (5E) RAW but with the unrelenting presumption of

• domain play and conquest across the map

• high power level (20th level PCs and powerful factions)

• real PVP determined by in-world actions and circumstances

• 1:1 time as the foundation of all plans & planning

It was not long before RAW 5E showed its many weaknesses—particularly at the highest levels of power and leverage over magic. Yet, Drakonheim adapted in-place. Players pivoted to follow rules changes as they were made. The stalwart gamers that were part of Drakonheim had no shortage of professionalism, dignity, charity, and sportsmanship when it came to ensuring the success of the campaign.

The campaign manager, Serious, approached Drakonheim without fear or hesitation. His experiments were ambitious, and he was not afraid to abandon something that proved to be holding the campaign back. His courage and dedication are exactly what is needed for a club to succeed with almost any game—provided that the Braunstein methodology is maintained without compromise.

A Study in Convergence

Drakonheim’s Type II Braunstein format has been considered and looked upon largely as a mere tool—a less-than-proven foundation for long-lived campaigns. The greatest previous example was the legendary Brovenloft campaign, which was similar in envisioned scope and design. But Drakonheim lasted for nine months and could certainly have persisted for many more were it not for the insane density of twists and turns resulting from random player collisions.

Consider the immeasurable impact of long-borne convergences, drifting upon an ocean of activity—until, one day, they collide and explode. This is exactly what happened in Drakonheim, and it is proof that the Type II Braunstein is campaign-ready technology. The following simultaneous strains all had to happen in order for Drakonheim to meet its final fate:

• Noble Naga, about to be killed by Caelan Voss, escaped by pouring his soul into an antimagic ring he had constructed. Voss (a pseudonym for the character ‘Dorian Vale’) picked up the ring but never researched it and did not know its import.

• Dorian Vale received visions from Noble Naga but did not understand or act upon them.

• Later, Dorian Vale struck a deal with Shang Ssung to kill the Verdant Tyrant, Korthrax. Before the Desolation poison research was completed, Dorian heard of an abandoned treasure hoard from a god-dragon named Deluvorax—deep in the ocean. He went to investigate.

• There, Dorian met his doom—the elder storm elemental with antimagic bursts. He cast Demiplane to escape, commanding his simulacrum to do the same. This created the conduit between the ocean and the valley around Little Pig Cave.

• Because of this hyper-specific sequence of events, Dorian Vale’s corpse ended up in a place that Shang Ssung could loot. Shang Ssung retrieved the ring!

Meanwhile:

• The characters ‘Sleepy’ and ‘Whisper’ first stole the Divine Seam from Deluvorax, very close to the beginning of the campaign.

• Neither character made use of it, but the Marquis Pell Andrex paid handsomely for it—he received the MacGuffin of the campaign for a king’s sum of gold!

• Deluvorax came hunting for the Divine Seam, and Sleepy pretended to be Pell Andrex and went out to fight the god-dragon.

• Sleepy banished Deluvorax to the astral plane (everyone thought it was the Marquis!). With the god-dragon banished to another plane, Sleepy and Whisper went to kill it, as it had neither minions nor lair powers to call upon in the astral plane.

• Shazhak the Bone Howler began painting the map and threatening Andrex.

• Andrex passed the Divine Seam to the mage Teruel.

• Teruel ended up fighting outside Owlhorn and dying—along with many others. Khallith Zal retrieved the Divine Seam here. Spellgrave refused the opportunity to pick up the Seam, perhaps sensing its evil purpose.

• Khallith Zal constructed the Dark Tree in the Bramblemarsh and corrupted the swamplands. The Divine Seam was sentient²⁴ and wished to be a god—Khallith Zal would be its willing vessel of incarnation.

Meanwhile again:

• The Swamp Tyrant (the Ancient Black Dragon), killed by Spellgrave and Cloudsong, was resurrected by the Divine Seam after it came into Khallith Zal’s possession.

• The Aeon went after the Swamp Tyrant for attacking towns in the southwest lands. In doing so, he basically emptied his floating tower near Shor Whistan.

• The Swamp Tyrant and Khallith Zal flew to the tower, sabotaging it and then attacking it in a move to destroy the Shor Whistan Citadel district, a move that would kill the entire governing hierarchy of the city.

• Spellgrave, Cloudsinger, and the Aeon managed a barrage of spells to split the tower into two pieces and deflect each away from the Citadel. Nevertheless, the destruction was a cataclysmic disaster.

• This prompted Spellgrave to form a Council of Good to do away with Khallith Zal and the Tyrants, once and for all.

• At the same time, the “Avatar of Vengeance” showed up. Like a magnet lining up iron files, his presence focused all the disconnected strands of action together, culminating in a World War that would involve every faction and character of note in the game.

Fake conventional play campaigns could simply never achieve something like this! Keep in mind that every single bullet point is the product of one or more actions that are entirely player-driven.

Next Steps

Drakonheim: Age of Power is gone. The world was destroyed in a megacataclysm. But, Drakonheim will live on in a new iteration, with a new world, with ever-more-refined campaign procedures, and with new and bold experiments that will continue to push RPGs forward.

My sincerest thanks to Jeffro Johnson, to Bdubs1776, to all the BrOSR, to Serious, and to the amazing players that made Drakonheim come completely alive into an arena where Shang Ssung’s victory—long may he be reviled!—could be a real and lasting achievement and, like the campaign itself, a legendary piece of RPG history.

---

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1. You can find him on twitter (X.com) as "@dm_serious". He is a quality follow. In Drakonheim, he went by “Priest of Graves.”

2. See Disrespecting the Pioneers of the Hobby on the Space Game Blog for the rundown on this definition. See The Path to a Superior Hobby for a broad explanation of Braunsteins and their role in the reinvigoration of the RPG hobby.

3. See BROZER: Island of War and Winter for the original Braunstein typology and concepts. UMBROS goes further, providing deep and practical explanations and including examples of the different types of Braunsteins.

4. I wouldn’t repeat this mistake, but this was also fine. The thematic flair of the faction was markedly improved by this custom theming, and the referencing headaches it caused could be worked around.

5. Perhaps amusingly, I panic-named “Shang Ssung” at this moment when I realized I hadn’t given my faction leader Wizard King a name.

6. Keep in mind, Shang Ssung and the Cabal are currently the product of months of careful gameplay. All that work could vanish in an instant.

7. I know it says consumable prices are halved, but we were being conservative. We were right!

8. I invented Ssab Tsero’s name on the spot after realizing I would need a named character to converse with the hooded man.

9. I was informed after the campaign’s end that this was a mage named Sleepy, one of the powers behind Tradehold. He used this opportunity to familiarize himself with the CTV members—hundreds were infected—so he could relentlessly scry them.

10. It is worth mentioning that the encounter system in 5E is comically stupid and obviously made intentionally wrong. Anyone who “learns” about encounters by playing 5E will require years of unlearning in order to obtain a right mind. Thus, we were using a system adapted from ACKS.

11. Keep in mind that Shang Ssung is only CR 12 and is nowhere near as personally competent with skills as a 20th level Wizard or Thief would be.

12. See a thorough look at Gygax’s 1-minute-round design in Combat Breakdown: Mass-Action Design.

13. It was here I discovered 5E doesn’t have a “Charge.” Lame.

14. In 5E, “Legendary Resistance” is the ability to treat a failed save as a successful one. All dragons have this Legendary Resistance in some (per day) quantity.

15. In truth, my life got extremely hectic around this time; I couldn’t juggle the game well enough to honor the other players. I was not able to participate actively, despite my position and big victories in the game. I missed a ton of action, including (by all accounts) unbelievable nail-biter epic factional battles. Sometimes it happens in these months-long games. The game goes on, but it waits for your return.

16. The Speaker was the infamous Noble Naga, the bane of order and homeostasis to so many other factions in the game. When hunted by Caelan Voss, Noble Naga constructed an anti-magic ring and would eventually place his soul within it—an attempt to manipulate Voss into destruction. Diana Pennington was one of Noble Naga’s two demonic agents.

17. I wrote this note under protest. I wanted “the Desolith player” to do everything regarding presentation, but at the time that wasn’t an option.

18. I have no idea who wrote this, but I am amused.

19. I have done some light editing to fix certain errors to the best of my ability & understanding of what happened, when, where, and how.

20. I was in complete shock reading this! Imagine a snake laughing uncontrollably.

21. This hilarious kill was the result of a long beef between the players controlling the Arbiter and the Swamp Tyrant.

22. Dubzaron has an amazing volume and quality of session reports.

23. See The Path to a Superior Hobby for more on the Braunstein concept of RPG play.

24. In the most insane twist thus far, I learned after the campaign wrapped up that the Divine Seam had a player! Yes, you read that correctly: the MacGuffin was controlled by a player!