Session 38

Session Date: 25th May 2025
Web Vault Link: https://www.ashencampaign.xyz/session-notes/season-4-ignatius-beckons/session-38/
A list Of Spells Cast In Sessions: Click Here

Session Summary

Fleeing from the Tulan Fort atop Sylva’s giant ice spider, the Party was nearly caught—until Halfbie used their Tome of Unfinished Stories to subtly rewrite reality, turning their would-be captors into vaguely disappointed bureaucrats. After being allowed to leave, Halfbie was suddenly struck by a poisoned arrow engraved with the name “Dave McDuffin.” Chenris, speaking through Halfbie, recognised it as a rare and lethal “Name Poison.” The group continued their journey until they encountered a bone-carved funeral carriage pulled by a stitched-together ox and flanked by robed, faceless attendants. A coffin marked “Do Not Open” sat atop the carriage.

Compelled by a divine sense of ritual and foreboding magic, Chenris (through Halfbie) rang a rusted bell offered by one of the attendants. This unleashed a fragment of a dead god, which forced itself into Halfbie’s body, seemingly possessing them. Korrigan’s attempt to track the carriage failed as its trail vanished into the mist, but the Party quickly realised the possession was not just symbolic—it was the incubation of a divine entity. That night, they were surrounded by vampires who offered food and claimed they served an ancient god named Vaelrith, who predated even Aetherion, and now lived within Halfbie.

What followed was a horrific campaign of magical consumption. Halfbie was led through portals to devour entire taverns’ worth of food, silos of grain, and even livestock, much to Korrigan’s anguish. The vampires insisted this “feeding” was necessary to sustain and bring forth their god. Korrigan, Sylva, and Mordecai prepared for an operation to extract Vaelrith from Halfbie’s body. The next morning, the skies turned black and ominous bells tolled—the ritual had begun.

Korrigan cut into Halfbie’s stomach, unleashing a tide of black pus and, eventually, Vaelrith himself—an eerie, skeletal figure birthed from ichor. After being handed the cursed bell by Halfbie, Vaelrith disappeared into thin air, leaving behind only silence. The Party, horrified and exhausted, barely had time to react before Xekai appeared via portal, offering a cryptic yet bitterly amused commentary on the events. The aftermath left the group shaken—especially Mordecai, who chastised Halfbie for their reckless curiosity that nearly got them all killed.

Full Session Notes

The Party, still on the Sylva with her giant ice spider, hurried to escape from The Tulan Fort. They could hear shouts and screams from within the fort as they rushed to raid for the chaise. While Mordecai and Korrigan panicked and attempted to devise a plan to get out of this situation, Halfbie quietly took out their Books, Documents & Artefacts/Artefacts/Tome of Unfinished Stories and began casting a spell to rewrite aspects of the world. The spell changed the problem so that the people in the fort were no longer angry with them and were willing to offer a choice.

As the members of the fort caught up with them, everything slowed down, and the fort members gave them a stern but light reprimand. They explained that spying was bad and that riding on the back of a giant ice spider could lead to a cold, so they needed to be more careful.

The Party played along until they were allowed to leave. Halfbie quickly cast the Message spell as each group parted ways to contact one of the Gods, reminding them they could unionise and deserved better. Turning to their friends, Halfbie exclaimed that they should unionise, only to be abruptly shot in the shoulder with a poisoned arrow by a commander who shouted, "NO UNIONISING!!" Intrigued by the fast-acting poison, Korrigan discreetly grabbed the arrow as the Party began to leave the area.

Examining the arrow, Korrigan couldn't identify the poison but noticed that the name "Dave McDuffin †" was engraved on the shaft. Sensing some magic on the arrow, Halfbie took over the analysis. However, they could only determine that it was enchanted. CXhenris, on the other hand, immediately recognised it from an old class at Strixhaven as a "Name Poison," a technique from The Deadlands that creates especially deadly poisons targeted at a specific person. The arrow would not affect anyone else and could not be replicated. Chenris shared this knowledge with Halfbie, who explained it to the Party, much to their surprise.

After some travelling, they made excellent progress until they reached the old wall separating the Dawn Empire from the Uvam Dynasty. The wall was not well-maintained, with much of it severely eroded or completely missing in some areas. Most of the Dawn flags had also been taken down and replaced with the emblem of The Brotherhood Of The Sun. Seeing the symbol reminded Halfbie of Kaelis Ignithar and his promise to teach them magic. They pulled out the magic bell they had given him and rang it. The metal of the bell reshaped into a face and said, "You are currently number 698 in the queue," before switching to hold music. Halfbie suggested they should call back another time, but as they spoke, a distant, hollow toll echoed through the fog-choked air—a deep and resonant bell ringing with sorrow that clung to the bones.

From their vantage point, Korrigan was the first to spot it—a silhouette emerging slowly through the mist. A towering funeral carriage, ghostly white and creaking like splintering wood, rolled forward at a steady, unnatural pace. It was pulled by a hulking, two-headed ox, each head bobbing out of sync with the other. Its patchwork body was a grotesque tapestry of stitched-together beasts. Fur gave way to feather, then to scaled hide, all roughly sewn with thick, ancient threads stained dark with age and blood.

Flanking the carriage were two figures draped head to toe in tattered black robes. The heavy fabric completely obscured their faces, and not a single movement betrayed the presence of life beneath. No footsteps could be heard—only the slow grind of bone wheels over frost-bitten dirt.

The Party stepped back instinctively, unsure whether to flee or freeze. Halfbie, with a shiver, knelt beside the road and lit a small candle. The others followed suit, mimicking a ritual they didn't understand but somehow knew was right. Silent respect—or perhaps fear—tied their hands.

As the carriage drew closer, the true horror began to unveil itself. What had first appeared as an ivory-painted cart was, in truth, constructed entirely from bones—thousands of them, cracked and yellowed, lashed together into a latticework of death. Skulls of Human, elves, dwarves, and even things no one could name formed grotesque ornamentation across the chassis. Rib cages formed wheels, spine columns ran the length like support beams, and long, clawed fingers clutched the casket above as if trying to drag something back in.

Atop the carriage sat a coffin, its wood so weathered it looked liable to crumble at a breath. It bore no seals or runes, only a frantic scrawl gouged into the lid: Do Not Open. This was the desperate final plea of someone who died, knowing what might follow.

The ox snorted—one head letting out a low, rattling groan like a tomb being opened—and the caravan halted. At once, the robed figures stopped. Perfectly. Simultaneously. Not a breath, not a shift, not even the creak of fabric.

Then, with slow, deliberate movement, the figure closest to the group extended a gloved hand. In its grasp was a rusted iron bell, crusted in places with dark, old blood. It held it outstretched toward them—but did not speak. It did not move. It simply was.

The silence was unbearable. Mordecai cleared their throat and tried to speak, but the words died in their mouth. Aidan shifted uneasily, and Korrigan's grip tightened on his weapon. The only sound was the wind through the trees—and the faint hum of something old watching from the shadows.

While the others tried vainly to question the figures, Halfbie's eyes glazed as their magical senses flared. The coffin behind the ox radiated something terrible—raw, divine energy fractured and fouled. It was the kind of power they had only felt once before: in the presence of a god. And something about it was wrong.

Deep within Halfbie's mind, another presence stirred—an old soul with too many regrets. Chenris. His voice was a whisper of steel. "That's no god... Not anymore. It's a fragment. A dead piece of divinity. And to rest it, you'd need consecrated soil."

His tone turned grim. "There's no consecrated soil left in this cursed world."

Taking control, Chenris forced Halfbie's body forward, his voice low and cold, cutting through the unnatural quiet. "How do you intend to bury a god... When the earth itself has forgotten how to bless the dead?"

The figure did not reply.

Instead, it moved the bell closer—hovering inches from Halfbie's chest.

Chenris didn't flinch. He reached out, grasped the handle, and, with a measured breath... Rang it once.

The toll was devastating. The sound shouldn't have carried—but it echoed across the hills, vibrating in the marrow of their bones. The mist grew still. The ox stopped breathing. Time itself seemed to halt for a heartbeat—

And then it happened.

The coffin burst open.

A black shape—like a shadow too thick for light to penetrate—lurched from within, howling silently as it launched toward Halfbie. It passed through Chenris' presence like a blade, tearing him loose from the body with a screech of psychic static.

Then it settled inside Halfbie.

Their posture straightened, and their expressions went blank. A low hum vibrated in the air around them, a static charge that raised the hairs on everyone's arms.

Korrigan stepped forward cautiously. "Halfbie...? Are you—" He didn't finish. The moment his hand touched their shoulder, a violent shock of psychic energy sent him reeling back, clutching his head and gasping in pain.

Mordecai reacted instantly, casting Dispel Magic. But it fizzled uselessly against the invader's power. The presence inside Halfbie remained undeterred.

Panicked, Korrigan barked at Mordecai. "Watch them. Don't let them do anything."

He sprinted down the road, following the path the carriage had taken, but the tracks... Ended within minutes as if the entire procession had never existed. The mist was thicker now, and the oppressive weight of magic lingered in the air like smoke after a fire. Familiar. Too familiar.

Korrigan clenched his fists.

This wasn't a random encounter.

It was a message.

A warning dressed in ritual, wrapped in silence and bound in death.

And it was meant for them.

He soon returned to Halfbie, who seemed relatively normal, and explained that they didn't feel very different from what they usually did. If anything, they felt quite powerful and confident—a statement that terrified Mordecai as that was what they experienced when Seifer Willow began possessing them. They explained this to the group, and Halfbie reassured them that they don't hear any voices in their heads, so it's probably something different.

Mordecai tried to ask Seifer if they knew anything, but she refused to tell them anything more than it was God they had not encountered yet and 'they' would be looking for them. She cackled when Mordecai pleaded for her to explain what she meant. The Party decided it would be best to set up camp as it was getting dark anyway. They went into the nearby fairest, with Korrigan covering all of their tracks as they went, and found a secluded spot for them to sleep. Halfbie explained that they were sure their Leomunds Tiny Hut spell prevented almost everything from entering it. They soon had the spell up, and the other decided it would be best to take shifts watching Halfbie to make sure nothing bad happened.

After writing some notes in their book, they fell asleep, and Mordecai was on the first shift. Everything was quiet for hours until Mordecai heard a stick snap outside the barrier. The barrier was one way so that they could see out, but no one could see in. Mordecai was on high alert before a rock was thrown at the barrier, pining off harmlessly. They quickly jolted Korrigan awake, and he was wide awake. As they scanned their environment, a humanoid walked out of the darkness and sat in front of the dome. Then another came out of the darkness, and then another until they were sounded by about 50 of these people. Most of them were dressed in black, expensive clothing or looked like they came from noble families. Finally, a tall woman walked through the sea of people; behind her were the four vampires who Korrigan met in Session 36.

The women walked confidently to the dome, their vampiric features on full display to those with dark vision. From within the dome, they asked what a large group of vampires wanted. The women simply stated that they wished to feed Halfbie and that they would wait all night if they had to. Halfbie asked them why they needed to feed them and if they had chicken noodle soup. The women, now frustrated, said they wanted to ensure Halfbie and their God survived what was to come.

Halfbie manipulated the dome so the vampires could see them and moved closer to the vampires. They told them to put the food on their floating disk as they conjured forth Tensor's Floating Disk and pushed it through the dome. As this happened, Kerrigan sneakily cast his detect thoughts spell and exited the doom to talk to them face-to-face and see what he could learn. No matter his questions, the women would not explain who they were and what their God was. She seemed aware that her mind was being read and gave away no clues. Korrigan knew when he was beaten and stopped the spell. While this was happening, the vampires quickly piled on as much food as they could onto the disk, with the women putting on a large ornate meat pie on top and pushing it back in.

As the food approached, it began to rapidly age and rot away until nothing but sludge was left. Halfbie used disinfection to clean the disk in case anything got on their stuff. The vampires stood up again, holding even more rich and expensive food and putting iot on the disk again.

When Korrigan asks, the women explain that they heard about the Party from the vampire kids, who had been following them. The food they carried was whatever they could bring, and they had little time to prepare, but they would soon bring more. Halfbie thanked them, still slightly confused, before asking who the God was. The woman was now quite irritated but saw she wouldn't get anywhere until she explained this to the Party and said she would tell them if they didn't speak his name in their presence as they were unworthy.

With a kind smile, Halfbie said that if they told them that, she could come into the dome. She nodded and said their God was called 'Vaelrith', and he was an ancient god. Korrigan asked if they were related to Aetherion, and the women explained that Vaelrith was much older than Aetheorion. Entering the doom and sitting down, she explained that for Aetheorion, the God of life, to die, the concept of death needed to exist. Vaelrith was that concept. Kerrigan began to say they were good friends of the Terathera, but the women didn't seem to care.

Each of the large and luxurious plates of food was 'eaten.' The vampires explained that Halfbie was now acting almost like an Egg for their God and implied this was only possible because the Skyward Barrier had weakened. Once the food was all eaten, the women opened up a large black portal, similar to the ones Xekai made. On the other side, a very confused tavern could be seen. Much to Mordecai's dismay, Halfbie began walking to the portal. They tried to tell them to reconsider their actions, but Halfbie rebutted, saying that if they wanted to, the vampires could've killed them by now, but they hadn't. The women explained that although they wished for their God, they wanted to do it without their friend dying. Halfbies and women soon walked through the portal, followed quickly by the rest of the vampires and the Party.

Inside the tavern, the woman walked straight to the barkeep and told him to bring out all the food he had in the building before slamming a large sack of coins on the table. The man blinked before running to the kitchen. They all sat at the bar. Mordecai approached, asking if they would have to be midwives for Halfbie. The lad laughed and explained that they didn't. All they had to do was ensure it was fed and cut out of halfbie's stomach. Halfbie tried to hide their worry, but Mordecai noticed and explained that most had good healing spells. So it would be fine.

The bartender soon returned a lot of food, which quickly vanished into sludge in front of them. The bartender, looking quite defeated, began to clean his bar until Halfbie and Mordecai, feeling bad for him, cleaned it with their magic.

Afterwards, the lady asked if halfbie drank blood wine, to which they said, "Not typically. Is it like Absinthe? Will it make me a vampire if I drink blood?" the lady smirked before asking if they wanted to be a vampire. Before Halfbie could answer, Mordecai and Korrigan shouted 'No'. Halfbie said they would love to have some of the wine and give it away. Unlike all other food and drink, the wine didn't disappear, allowing them to drink it.

Slightly worried, Halfbie asked if they could ever eat and drink regular food again. The lady explained that everything would return to normal in a few hours or so once the God had been born.

Soon, they were done in the tavern, and the lady opened a portal into what looked like a large indoor farmer's market. Much to the Party's dismay, Halfbie was told they had to consume everything, or they would die. So, Halfbie begrudgingly walked around the marketing, destroying every bit of food in the room.

Next, the lad teleported them to a very large grain silo. "Go on, I'm afraid you already know what must happen." Halfbie cast the FLy spell on them and slowly lowered themselves into the silo, destroying months and months' worth of the village's food supply. They did the same for the rest of the silos before flying over all of the crops to absorb them as well. They repeated this process at other nearby farms before coming to one that dealt in livestock. At this point, Korrigan lost it. He refused to let them take an animal's life. Instead, he summoned a large amount of brambles with berries on them. Halfbie absorbed all of them, draining Korrigan of all his magics. The vampires explained it wasn't enough and they needed the cows. Korrigan promised that it would be quick and painless for the animals. They agreed, and soon Halfbie stood over sludge and mould where animals once were.

After all of this, Haklfbie was emotionally drained, mesially destroying a village's food supply for the next few years. He collapsed on the floor after exiting the last portal. They were in a wide-open field. Dawn was fast approaching, so the vampires decided to take their leave. They left, explaining that they would know when it was time and that they would have to cut the God out of Halfbie's stomach.

While leaving Halfbie to get some rest, the other came up with a plan. Sylva found an herb commonly used as an anaesthetic during operations. Korrigan practised the cuts using the claws he had got from his primary savagery ability. Mordecai was encouraged to make sure Halfbie was okay during the process while helping.

Halfbie awoke to their stomach growling and filled with slight pain. Upon hearing this, everyone got into action and began applying the anaesthetic to Halfbie as they lay on the floor shirtless, looking incredibly worried.

As the sun rose over the ashen cliffs, the golden warmth of dawn was quickly devoured. In a matter of seconds, the sky blackened, as if a curtain of shadow had been pulled over the heavens. Winds howled to life, shrieking like dying spirits through the trees, and far in the distance, ancient bells began to toll—a slow, mournful chime that echoed like a funeral dirge across the hills.

The ritual had begun.

Korrigan knelt over Halfbie’s unconscious form, his face pale and taut with tension. His claws shimmered with a faint druidic light as he steadied his trembling hands. Around them, a circle of protective runes flickered on the ground—wards hastily cast, shielding them from what they could only hope was enough.

"Here we go," Korrigan muttered to himself, and plunged his claws into Halfbie’s stomach.

The incision opened not with blood, but with something far worse. A wave of thick, bubbling black pus erupted from the wound, gushing out in steaming torrents like sludge from a ruptured sewer. The smell hit instantly—decay, sulphur, rot. The kind of stench that lived in nightmares.

Sylva recoiled for a split second before leaping into action, summoning a flurry of white-gloved hands made of spectral magic to begin scooping the foul ichor away. Her face was fixed in a mask of horror and determination. Every scoop of the pus dissolved like tar into the soil, hissing and burning the ground. It wasn’t just filth—it was wrong.

Korrigan widened the wound, muttering apologies under his breath as more and more of the vile substance spilled out—an impossible amount. It was like trying to drain a bottomless pit. Mordecai knelt beside Halfbie, whispering softly to them, words of comfort and reassurance, their voice shaking. But Halfbie couldn’t hear. Their eyes were open, glassy and unfocused, and even if they had heard Mordecai’s words, there was nothing left inside to answer.

Then Korrigan froze.

His breath caught in his throat as he leaned in, squinting into the pit he had carved in Halfbie’s gut. There, nestled deep in the impossible depths of the body, something bone-white gleamed.

A skull.

Korrigan’s claws retracted as he reached inside, hesitating for only a moment before gripping it. The cavity was far too deep—it defied all sense of anatomy. As he pulled, the skull rose slowly, almost willingly, as though it wanted to be seen.

Then it began to move.

The skull jerked free of Halfbie’s body and hovered mid-air, rotating slowly. Black pus began to congeal around it, forming a long, flowing mantle that hung in the air like oil-stained velvet. Arms grew from the mire—thin, impossibly long, ending in skeletal hands. The rest of the body emerged, shaped by the very pus that had infected Halfbie’s form, until the entity hovered fully formed, draped in shadow, floating above the open wound like a death omen.

It turned its eyeless sockets toward Halfbie, and in a voice that chilled bone, it whispered:

"Father... Please hand me the bell."

Halfbie, dazed and twitching, reached into their satchel with a trembling hand. Without understanding why, they placed the bell in the creature’s waiting palm.

“Thank you,” the figure said, almost politely.

Then it looked up toward the sky. The wind died in an instant. Not even the leaves rustled.

And just like that, it was gone—vanished into nothing.

The world held its breath.

The bells had stopped. The clouds stilled. The air, heavy with the scent of rot and magic, was deathly quiet.

Mordecai’s voice finally broke the silence, a hoarse whisper. “What... What the fuck have we done?”

Korrigan didn’t answer. There was no time. He barked orders to anyone who could still move. “Heal him! Now! I’ve got nothing left!”

Halfbie, eyes fluttering with returning awareness, forced themselves upright. Blood still trickled from their gut, but their fingers sparked with life as they summoned a healing spell that surged through their torn abdomen, sealing the flesh with a golden glow.

The party sat in stunned silence, each of them trying to make sense of what had just happened. No one spoke until Mordecai, still pale, leaned in.

"Well? What did you learn?"

Halfbie coughed weakly, managing a strained chuckle. “That maybe vampires aren’t so bad after all?”

“That’s not funny,” Mordecai snapped. “You don’t touch cursed objects.”

Halfbie tried to explain, their voice small and unsure. “It didn’t seem cursed... I mean, the bell wasn’t that bad... I just—needed to know.”

Mordecai stood, furious now. “Your curiosity is going to get us all killed! You keep chasing the mystery and we pay the price. You can’t keep doing this, Halfbie. You can’t.”

Halfbie looked down, shame flickering behind their eyes. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

Korrigan, rubbing his temples, muttered, “Maybe we should tell the shadow-fox about this.”

Mordecai sighed. “Knowing him? He probably already—”

A crack split the air.

A purple portal shimmered open behind them, humming with unstable energy. From its centre stepped a tall figure in dark robes, his fox mask cracked with irritation. Xekai.

His eyes, glowing with that unearthly light, settled on the group.

“They’re going to die anyway,” he said flatly, surveying the scene with distaste. “Why not be a little curious?”

Trivia & Notes