Help out by adding your characters’ memories from this session!
6 months later.
Ribbon-cutting ceremony for Steppin’ Out’s first public transcontinental test, from Fairhaven to Erlaskar to Sharn, with flashbacks to planning, such as recruiting celebrity bard Jory the Glutton. Event is a success – world is shocked.
5 debauchery-filled days and nights in Sharn later, you’re called to the portal which is on, oscillating oddly, and glowing orange. Tagi heads straight in, Mr. Pink investigates and is pushed in by sneaky goblinoids, and the rest of the group (Padraig, Ben, and Shale) storm in after them.
On the other side of the portal, the adventurers find themselves in Hell. No really, Hell. Fire and burning vapor lick up at earthen motes scattered throughout a field of lava. They see scores of suits of spiky armor in the lava below, and one suit on a mote far away guarding a glowing sword.
They fight the infernal golems, leading them away from the sword – which is promptly grabbed by Shale. At this, the guardian kneels and swears fealty.
The sword is inscribed in ancient Draconic: “North South East West, Glad to go, Glad to serve, Glad to die”
Shale might be compassionate now? Violet is a bit of c word but agrees to go with Cumberbatch. Releasing portal technology. Invitations delivered to falcon punch. Fucking teleport bro. Steve knows his shit, like magic. Circling it up, bamf in and is all like, " hey bitches, check it." Dance shale dance, let’s talk portals. Suck. It. Invitation titties. Flash forward and back, back and forward. Gathered all the bitches for sharn. Rocky up in this bitch. Tony stark moments, shit yeah. Bitches be jivin o’ padraig. event is great success. Party time mofuggas. Party o clock. There is no portal, only zuul. Fucking hard reset that shit. Lizards have balls. I’m like, whaaaaat. Nether realm is like, holy dick bags. A pool of knowledge is created, things are learned that cannot be unlearned. Superfire. Zero fucks given. Suits of armor rise, dick tastic. Jumpin up in this bitch. Flips, tricks, whatevsies. North south east west, we got an army. Suit of armor army, harness it. – Mr. Pink’s drunken stream-of-consciousness