A chill ran down my spine as I awoke, the remnants of a disturbing dream clinging to the edges of my consciousness. A monstrous figure, vaguely familiar, tormenting a Tiefling or perhaps a Cambion demon – the image was unclear. We found the creature, barely alive, tied to a stake. His last word, “Abaddon,” was a guttural rasp before black tentacles burst forth, splitting his skull open in a gruesome spectacle. A psychic shockwave radiated outwards, leaving us all reeling. A truly horrifying start to the day.

We encountered a band of orcs, goblins, and ogres led by a towering Frost Giant. A fierce battle ensued, but we prevailed, swiftly dispatching the monstrous band. Seizing an opportunity, we donned their crude armor and disguises, hoping to infiltrate the heavily fortified Northern Keep. Our ruse worked, and we managed to enter the keep posing as orc and goblin prisoners.

The keep teemed with archers, orcs, and goblins, a formidable force. During the chaos of our “capture,” a Vrock, a truly fearsome demon, managed to escape. Abaddon, or whatever force was behind those horrific visions, was not pleased. That night, we were plagued by relentless, disturbing dreams, leaving us exhausted and shaken the next morning

Altan- Wolf Sentinel