Session 57 - Godclaw Cometh

Deep within Cocytus, the frozen seventh layer of Hell, the frost giant warlord Hrimnir Frostbane stood between the Ruinlords and the prison dimension of Torvus. The Angel of Atrophy flexed a frozen hand out of the ice and engulfed Alfie, imprisoning the cleric in its titanic grip. Suddenly, the fallen spirit of Cassius Del Vago forced itself into the owlbear Potato, reshaping the beast into a towering infernal juggernaut powered by the Order of the Godclaw. Twenty-five feet tall, clad in writhing flame and shadow, the creature roared as the frost giant raised his axe in grim defiance. Hrimnir struck with chilling fury, each blow of his weapon cracking the stone beneath their feet and radiating such cold that the air itself crystallized.   Oathgar met him head-on, driving his enchanted axe deep into the giant’s flesh with both precision and power. The blow would have cleaved a lesser creature in half, but even against the frost giant warlord, it drew a gout of blood that spattered the frost in crimson. Forcing a bellow of surprise from Hrimnir, the wounded giant retaliated by slamming his axe into the frozen ground, sending shards of rime surging outward. The shockwave pitched Tike to the ground and turned the battlefield into a slick expanse of treacherous ice. Hrimnir’s next breath unleashed a cone of killing frost that coated the party in rime, slowing their movements to a crawl.   Even amid this storm, Thea’s phoenix-born magic blazed like a beacon. Flames curled into spheres and lances that, instead of searing, washed over her allies in waves of golden fire. The burns mended torn flesh and knit broken muscle, leaving behind a warmth that renewed their strength.   Cal summoned forth a massive ankylosaurus, the thunder of its spiked tail slamming into the giant’s ribs with bone-cracking force. Hrimnir staggered, stunned for a breath, but soon recovered, cleaving the beast in two with a single crushing blow.   The struggle turned when Potato hurled himself upon the frost giant, claws raking deep and holding him fast. Grappled in the owlbear’s infernal grip, Hrimnir could not free himself before Tike leapt into the fray. With a flurry of strikes as swift as falling hailstones, the monk pummeled the giant until Hrimnir finally toppled, his body crashing to the ice.  

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The Angel of Atrophy

  No sooner had Hrimnir fallen than the ice split apart. Vast, skeletal fingers of black ice erupted from below, curling hungrily around the giant’s corpse. The Angel of Atrophy reached out, dragging the body toward its abyssal maw. The heroes rushed forward, hacking at the giant’s armor and prying away treasures before the corpse was claimed. Tike seized the frost giant’s axe and hacked away one of his massive fingers to tear free a ring of power, while Oathgar wrenched away the breastplate even as the icy talons pulled the body forward.   The air filled with a sound like cracking glaciers as the creature’s black tongue lashed across Hrimnir’s corpse, dragging it into the ribbed maw in its chest, where rows of fangs awaited.  

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The Failing Portal

  Behind them, the cube that housed the portal to Torvus began to fail. Cracks laced its walls, and the sphere of power within pulsed like a racing heart. With desperate precision, Declan bent his will to the unraveling construct, steadying it for a moment’s escape.   One by one, the companions hurled themselves through the shimmering gateway. Oathgar vanished first, followed by Tike in a tumbling roll, then Potato shrinking back to his natural form as Alfie shepherded him through. Thea and Stu lingered too long, their path collapsing in fire and ice as Cal forced the portal to flare one last time, carrying himself and his conjured beast through before the breach imploded. The rest were left behind.  

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The Hell of Torvus

  The survivors staggered into a wasteland of searing heat. The plane of Torvus stretched before them: cracked earth and broken stone beneath a crimson sky, its ember sun bleaching the land into lifeless pallor. The air reeked of sulfur, carried on shimmering heat. The plane itself seemed to watch them, a suffocating malevolence pressing upon their souls to remind them that this was, in fact, a prison.   Every breath was a labor. Their magic felt strange here. In the silence, faint shrieks of slaughter carried across the desert, though no enemies were in sight. In the dust lay footprints, leading away into the wasteland. Lucius Blackthorn had passed this way, and the escorting devils with him.   As the Ruinlords followed, visions seized the heroes. They looked through the eyes of a child in an ancient Thassilonian city as an obsidian serpent rose from the earth, its coils blotting out the sky. He watched helplessly as his mother was torn from him and devoured, while arcanists unleashed futile spells that shattered like glass against the creature’s hide. A second vision showed the boy, older, before a council of wizards who mocked his plea to defy death, their laughter echoing through marble halls.   The Ruinlords pressed through the desert for hours, relying on Alfie to conjure water, though even his god’s voice seemed faint in this forsaken place. When Cal’s spyglass caught the shimmer of distant trees, they debated the pursuit of their quarry or a detour for shelter. Cal's augury seemed to confirm the oasis was their path.  

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The Nomads of the Oasis

  The oasis rose from the cracked plain like a mirage — palm trees clinging to life around a greenish pool. There, they encountered elves unlike any they had seen before. Bronze-skinned, tall, their leader, Sharp’oq, bore white hair cut into a stark mohawk and a scar over one eye. His scimitar gleamed pale as bone.   Though wary, the nomads welcomed the travelers to their camp. The elves insisted that the strangers share in their tent and water before nightfall. The party accepted, preparing to rest among hosts who bore scars of countless battles and carried weapons honed by generations of survival. In the shifting light of the oasis fires, they prepared to learn more of this prison realm carved from Hell itself.