The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 10 – The Tomb of Horrors Pt. 3

Written by Flamereptile

Written: 03/02/2026

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 10 – The Tomb of Horrors Pt. 3

Recap: Last week we continued the Tomb of Horrors… It continued to be horrible, but still so much fun.

This week’s tale continues, once again, within the Tomb of Horrors, and will again be a shorter set of highlights rather than a full short story.

We began this session with some nice banter, and by making a decision that during much of the month of March, and during baseball season we may need to take a little break from this campaign for our GM to coach baseball. I will be sad to not play during that time, but will have many other things to work on to fill the void.

This session picked up in the throne room with a ton of pillars. It took us quite some time to figure out the pillar traps, open the many doors, disarm the traps, and figure out the throne/crown/scepter. We were visited by the “Liberty Mutual Death Saving Throw Insurance Agency”, a mustached man and his Axe Beak named Doug. We had a short interaction with them, where I believe the GM adjusted some power scaling from earlier in the campaign.

Thraxx took the man, and the Axe Beak, through a few rooms of the dungeon to make him test some of the traps. Was it the most kind thing to do? No. No it wasn’t. He did not end up making it through the throne/crown/scepter testing…

Our rogue/warlock had a little meltdown in frustration about the many doors, and the general demeanor of this dungeon, but our druid kept a calm head and made a decision: to conjure a familiar and poke around. I actually was wondering the whole dungeon why the owls he summoned weren’t scouting better, or why he wasn’t seeing through them… turns out I was mistaking Conjure Animals and Conjure Familiar.

We discovered that both of the faces on the ceiling were portals, both of which went nearby. We opened the door with the animated swords… then immediately closed it. The rogue/warlock cast meat grinder, I mean Spirit Guardians, in the room, making short work of the swords. We proceeded beyond into the next room which was supposedly a trap, but we managed to remove the door and disarm the trap.

Next we tested the portal to the next room. Gracefully said. The owls, conjured by the druid, fiddled with the key and were instantly killed. Running out of options, the rogue/warlock gave Thraxx a Death Ward and sent him in. The trap did not even chew through Thraxx’s temporary hit points before he figured it out, but when he did, the floor began moving upwards to try to crush him.

With his quick reflexes, Thraxx rolled forwards and into the next room. This room was, apparently, a treasure room filled with gold and with a sarcophagus inside. Now Thraxx isn’t interested in gold, but he was interested in what was within the sarcophagus: a jewel encrusted skull.

Now I would be lying to you if I told you I didn’t know what this was. The Demilich Acererak. But I’ll be darned if Thraxx wouldn’t want to claim the skull of the dungeon anyways. But Thaxx is no fool. He would claim the skull, but knew most things in the dungeon are trapped. He took his Bag of Holding and tried to slip it over the skull. He did not succeed.

The Demilich awoke and attacked Thraxx. Fortunately, he beat its 16 Initiative roll with a 23 of his own. Making two attacks, then performing an Action Surge, Thraxx managed to burn through 3/4 of the Demilich’s Legendary Resistances (against being shoved in the bag), but that left the Demilich a turn. Fortunately again, the Demilich failed to harm Thraxx. On his second turn he failed to hit at all… Another opportunity for the Demilich to do him in but again it failed to harm him. On his third turn, Thraxx finally managed to bag the Demilich.

Now this is where the dungeon differs a bit from the module. The vast majority of things, closer to 99%, was as written in the original module (except for perhaps a bit of flavor), but we weren’t here for Acererak… we were here for two Arch Hags.

Thraxx activated a switch, allowing his party to pass the floor trap, and the session ended as we prepared to engage in combat against the Arch Hags beyond the treasure room.

Retrospective: Tonight was another shorter game, but it seemed like we accomplished quite a bit, and we surely had a ton of fun. I am eager to finish this dungeon, because it’s still bull, but I’m thankful to have been given the opportunity to play through it. Thank you again to Keith for running another great game for us, and I look forward to reading through this module afterwards. Maybe I’ll even get to torture my players with it some day?

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 9 – The Tomb of Horrors Pt. 2

Written by Flamereptile

Written: 02/23/2026

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 9 – The Tomb of Horrors Pt. 2

Recap: Last week we started the Tomb of Horrors… It was horrible, but oh so much fun.

This week’s tale continues within the Tomb of Horrors, and will be a short set of highlights rather than a full short story.

We began this session with a return of the Terminator, well, a different unit. We returned to the beginning of the dungeon where it tried to impersonate a loved one of one of the party members. With Thraxx’s new eye, he could see through its illusion. We began combat against it, with the dishonorable mage paralyzing it. Thraxx would grab it and drag it to the face with the Sphere of Annihilation in it, shoving it in and ending combat in a very fun, yet unceremonious way.

We continued the crawl for quite some time, eventually coming to some sort of Embalming Chamber. Within one of the vats inside was a “Living Sourdough Starter Slime”, which I believe was a Psychic Gray Slime. It was slain before it could touch Thraxx.

We continued cautiously through the tomb, coming to a rom filled with fog. The dishonorable mage dispelled the fog, revealing an entrapped Siren within. After returning her to the entrance, we finished the game by ending within a throne room full of pillars.

Retrospective: Tonight’s game review was short, and to be honest, tonight’s game seemed really short. Perhaps it was because we all had so much fun, but also because this dungeon is irritating. Who knows? I have faith that next week we may finish this module, and I’ll be very happy to do so. Another great game Keith, well done and kudos to another fun game.

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 8 – The Tomb of Horrors

Written by Flamereptile

Written: 02/16/2026

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 8 – The Tomb of Horrors

Recap: Last week we fought a grueling battle against Granny Nut and a hoard of Purple Worms, ending with Thraxx being slain and brought back again.

This week’s tale will be much shorter, less in character, and feel more like a highlights reel. Why? Well, because we started the Tomb of Horrors.

We entered the tomb and poked around cautiously. Most players know the tales of the Tomb of Horrors, thus proceed accordingly. Unfortunately for us, most of our characters aren’t really well suited for old-school dungeon crawls. In fact, only our level 20 rogue/warlock/notreallysurewhatelseheisbuthe’slv20whiletherestofusarelv16 could perform the necessary Perception/Investigation checks to do much at all. With his reliable talent, that trivialized most checks, but made the repetition mind numbing.

Let me be honest up front here. We were almost all aware, to some extent, the features of the tomb, with some of us having run/played it before. How do you do things like separate the knowledge about the statue and the gems? Some of the traps? What about the face with the Sphere of Annihilation? You kind of can’t without overtly sacrificing your character…

I preface with this to also say, it was like pulling teeth to get the party to put the gems in the statue’s hands to get the Gem of Seeing.

How about some highlights though? When Thraxx acquired the gem he tore out one of his eyes to install it permanently. That’s pretty neat. The Chapel of Evil had a… *sigh* Man-Bear-Pig skeleton dressed in the Terminator’s black leathers (with sunglasses) that couldn’t actually be killed (it regained 100 hp after 1d6 rounds if we “slew it”). We dropped it down a pit. We even managed to knock down a myriad of doors, and avoid nearly every trap through cautious curiosity, and an adept rogue.

So what’s next? Well, we have a little bit of the Tomb left to crawl through. I’m looking forward to swiping up the Demilich’s head in one of my Bags of Holding, and adding it to Thraxx’s trophy collection. I am not eager for the possibility of a party member triggering the teleportation that leaves us naked outside… I guess we’ll see how it goes.

Retrospective: Although my review of tonight’s game might seem disappointed or irritated, it is not intended to be. Keith, regardless of his silliness, ran another great game, and it was awesome to see his excitement to run the module. I love his energy, and his GM style. I think we can all agree, since it’s conception in (what? 1978?) that the Tomb of Horrors is some real bullshit. I look forward to hopefully finishing it next week!

p.s. Perhaps I should write some hardcore, old school dungeon crawls for some of our adventures?

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 7 – The End of Thraxx

Written by Flamereptile

Written: 02/09/2026

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 7 – The End of Thraxx

Recap: We pick up this week, continuing our journey once again through Candyland, however, I found out that Granny Nut was not in fact an Arch Hag. We are in fact hunting her daughter/granddaughter/sisters? It’s complicated. New targets: Mother Blackthorn and daughter Blackthorn…

This week we began our journey appearing at the home of Granny Nut, who was not in fact a Hag. She was an odd acting old woman, except she wasn’t! She petitioned our party to save her husband from either snakes or worms. It was hard to tell. Thraxx, believing her to be a Hag in disguise, was ready to club her, but showed restraint as the rest of the party, all dishonorable spellcasters, wanted to try some form of diplomacy. This did not make sense to Thraxx, especially as she began to ominously tap her foot, as if trying to summon some sort of desert critter.

The party was enraptured with the prospects of her summoning these worms, to milk them… Thraxx was not impressed. They stood by, slack jawed until she had called forth five of these purple monstrosities, and then attacked.

Immediately Thraxx attacked the old woman, obviously more than what she appeared. After a good, hard clubbing she revealed her true form, that of a Rakshasa! Thraxx became furious, continuing to club her until she dishonorably retreated into the Hells where Thraxx could not follow her.

Denied his quarry, Thraxx turned his attention towards the worms. There were many of them, and they were quite vicious. Although he fought hard and valiantly, Thraxx would be bested by the worms, even after being swallowed and clubbing his way out. He did, however, outlive the foolish orc that worshipped him, Buddy the Orc. In his dying breaths, Thraxx only wished that he could have challenged Buddy the Orc for his fancy sword, a Blackrazer.

Thraxx would be knocked unconscious… his mind would begin to fade into the beyond granted to and honorable death… when the dishonorable Druid would deny him of his glorious death!

Thraxx, now enraged beyond belief would thrash about to claim his final trophy, falling once again and being swallowed. His body would at least nourish the worm that had bested him. Survival of the fittest at its finest.

Thraxx’s body would begin to dissolve as he lost himself… Then the dishonorable Rogue/Wizard/Warlock… Thraxx really isn’t sure what it is would reach into the worm’s throat, touch Thraxx with it’s filthy, dishonorable hands, and Plane Shift Thraxx into the Nine Hells, denying him once again an honorable death.

In the steaming Hells, the mage would heal Thraxx, coddling him. An Imp would approach to prepare Thraxx for the line that was Customs. The mage would convince the Imp of his importance before Thraxx smashed it, and the mage returned Thraxx to the battle against the worms.

Back in the fray, Thraxx would club a nearby worm to death, claiming the Blackrazer that it had claimed from Buddy the Orc (it was tribal law after all). He would then take that sword, which he would then dub Braidcutter (against the sword’s wishes) to cleave another worm in two.

The battle would end, the party would rest, and Thraxx would cut his braid, signifying his failure, shame, and loss of honor within his clan. Thraxx would rest physically, but his shame would keep him awake.

Retrospective: Another great game ran by Keith. I think the party composition and teamwork was nearly nonexistent for most of the fight, and the interaction beforehand. If there was a little more coordination, I think we might have all survived, but it all worked out in the end. I’m eager to see how Thraxx develops with the Blackrazer in his hands. Once he’s attuned to it, the abilities it will grant to him will be incredible. I look forward to playing again next week!

The Festival of Flesh

Titansfall, quite the unique city. It was built upon the body of the Tarrasque, captured ages ago. The Tarrasque has since become an important cultural and economic source, as the locals harvest its ever-regenerating flesh. Upon recommendation of a contact, from the undercity of Nordran, I have traveled here to visit the Flesh Pits during the Festival of Flesh. The Flesh Pits are a disturbing natural phenomenon, caused by the Tarrasque’s constantly mutating flesh as it slowly grows and melds into the tunnels dug around it for harvesting.

            As I made my way into the Festival of Flesh, only recently starting, I saw a crowd gathered around several people isolated in separate booths facing outward. Each of them was sculpting what looked like clay figures. Above and behind them, in holding cells, there were some sorts of large creatures mirroring what was being done to the clay figures. One of the sculptors, a small child by all looks, had balled up their effigy and was ripping it apart and mashing it together aimlessly. Its creature screamed and groaned in agony as its bones broke and flesh rent only to mend and fuse once more again and again. Its overall shape became something of a giant worm. In another booth sat a man… of sorts. He wore nothing above the waist, bone plating covered almost all of his vitals, and bones appeared to grow from his own flesh. Flesh that did not match, seeming to come from several sources not of his own. Tubes conveying a bright, almost glowing, green fluid were interwoven through his flesh. He expertly manipulated his effigy, gently molding and precisely carving it. The creature behind him morphed seemingly without pain. It became a hulking figure with stout legs, a secondary ribcage covered its chest, and its head was encased within a helm of bone. Its large arms were wide, and its fingers were long and grasping. Roping tendrils were molded to its back and arched over its shoulders with jagged, cleaver-like blades at the end.

            I watched for a time, enraptured by the scene, unable to look away. Finally, I peeled away my vision and ventured further into the tunnels. There was a loud boom coming from an arena, dug down into the massive alcove of the tunnels. Two biomancers were dueling beneath the sky. The sky that should not have been visible this deep underground. The sun shined brightly, but it all looked unplaceable wrong. On one side of the arena, a human woman appeared to be tearing off her fingers and throwing them at her opponent. They exploded in a shower of acid and blood. Her opponent, a dwarven man, held out his hands and produced a shower of shards that flew with alarming velocity, piercing her in some places but deflecting off of her bone carapace in others. The dwarf’s acid pocked skin healed as the woman’s fingers were depleted. His arms ruptured into blades as he rushed towards her and quickly cut her down. The crowd erupted into cheers as the dwarf seemed to absorb parts of her flesh into his own, using their grotesque magic.

            All these strange sights began to feel overwhelming. My contact had warned me of this place, but his warnings did it no justice. As I wandered away from the arena, I came upon another large alcove with half a dozen large platforms. Upon each one, a massive mound of flesh rested, each being reshaped into gruesome yet beautiful figures. Some had taken on a humanoid shape, but only just. Flesh and bone intertwined in bizarre and impossible shapes about their bodies. Others took on abstract shapes. One that struck me as particularly stunning was what looked like a plant the size of 10 men. A rosette of pointed, serrated leaves formed its base, each leaf sprouted a large eye, each of which tracked different passersby. A thick stalk sprouted from its center, covered in small mouths. Each of which spewed a small geyser of blood down to its base which was quickly consumed by small orifices of lapping tongues.

Many similar sights could be found throughout the alcoves within the tunnels of the Flesh Pits. Some seemed like talent shows, displaying differing biomancy abilities and their applications, while others were more akin to carnival game stands. A row of biomancers had sprouted stalks that sprayed acid at moving targets. Another game stand had biomancers growing homunculi in jars, racing to complete theirs first. At one more was a pit of acid that the biomancers had to wade through to collect tokens along the bottom before their bodies gave out. Not a game for the weak of stomach to watch.

A sudden surge of the crowd rushed towards the arena. The sculptors I first witnessed had gathered on balconies spaced equally around the arena and held aloft their molded effigies in their hands for all to see. Their creations’ holding cells had been moved beneath them. An announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, showering the sculptors with platitudes and admonishments before declaring that the Festival of Flesh’s main event was beginning. The unusual sky above revealed itself to be an illusion when it suddenly turned blood red and began pulsing with a deeper red. The sculpted creatures bellowed horrifying war cries and charged each other. The child’s worm creature flailed in place unable to move and was set upon by the others.

A beast I had not yet seen challenged the hulking mass crafted by the veteran sculptor. It had a canid shape to it. A thick muscular body, devoid of hair with short powerful back legs, both adorned with three long claws. Its front legs were bladed stilts. Bony spines protruded from its back, and fleshy wings were pressed flat against either side of its spine. Its eyeless head ended in a large, circular mouth lined with rows upon rows of teeth, that rested at the end of a long snake-like neck.

The two creatures were on opposite sides of the arena. The canid’s powerful legs launched it forward at an incredible speed. Its wings spread to carry it, and its bladed front legs extended forward as it flew towards its target. Its bladed arms pierced through the hulking creature's exterior ribcage, becoming lodged within it. While the canid struggled to free itself, the hulk’s long grasping fingers wrapped around it and pinned the canid to its chest as its bladed tendrils whipped forward and carved deep wounds across its back. The canid’s spines burst outwards, severing all the hulk’s fingers. Its back legs dug into the gut of the hulk as its rows of circular teeth rapidly spun and cut holes through the hulk’s shoulders. It managed to pull itself free of the hulk’s ribcage and attempted to leap free, but the hulk’s tendrils cut its wings away and it slammed to the ground. The hulk lifted one of its thick legs and stomped down on the back legs of the canid, pinning it. The canid quickly cut its own legs away and, with freakish speed, circled to the back of the hulk, dragging itself with its bladed front legs. It began climbing up its back, driving its legs deep into the hulk’s unprotected flesh. It reached up and severed the tendrils with its mouth before sawing its way into the hulk’s body with its teeth, disappearing entirely. The hulk began flailing and screaming as it stomped its way across the arena, crushing all the remaining amalgamations of flesh. I could see the undulating mass of the canid beneath the hulk’s flesh, wreaking havoc within its body. Finally, the hulk collapsed to the ground and the canid burrowed its way free, and victorious.

The crowd went into a frenzy of excitement at the spectacle, and the illusory sky returned to its normal hue. I could only stand there, wide eyed and mouth agape, not believing what I had just seen. The Festival of Flesh was coming to a close, and I quickly egressed to the surface. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, as I would never return.

I hope you enjoyed this short story with me. It started out as an errant thought I had at work. While in the focused thoughts of my job, the scene of the sculptors making their creation forced its way into my head and just kept expanding. Thinking it would be entertaining to Nolan and the others in our DnD group I shared it. Nolan apparently had recently dreamed, or nightmared depending on your view, of a creature that inspired the canid above. He encouraged me to write a short story so here you have it. A deeper look into the lore of the underground biomancers of Titansfall.

-        Arizona (TheOneTrueAzzy)

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 6 – The Candyland Chronicles 3

Written by Flamereptile

Written: 02/02/2026

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 6 – The Candyland Chronicles 3

Recap: We pick up this week, continuing our journey to track the Arch-Hag (Granny Nut?)

This week we began our journey approaching a ziggurat with some sort of meat grinder at the top. A slew of Frost Giants, accompanied by 3 Abominable Yetis, were feeding people into the grinder to press them into blood wine for some sort of statue “god”.

The party deliberated for a moment on how to best cast dishonorable spells at the enemies. Thraxx grew tired of their dishonorable ways, charging headfirst into the fray. Getting a great roll on initiative, Thraxx sprinted and screamed towards his enemies. Unfortunately, they surrounded him, 3 Frost Giants and 2 Yetis, and paralyzed him for a few rounds. They tried and tried to whittle Thraxx down, mostly succeeding, but Thraxx’s will, or posture, could not be broken.

After a few rounds of being paralyzed, and the surrounding enemies being unable to break, or move, Thraxx, he broke his paralysis, only for one giant to decide to throw him into the meat grinder. Thraxx obliged, allowing the foolish giant to give him a free ride. While approaching, Thraxx persuaded the giant to “allow him to throw himself into the grinder”. The giant obliged, releasing Thraxx.

Thraxx climbed the rest of the ziggurat, looked back at the giant while at the top (and near their idol), and called out “This is how you swing a club!” before clubbing the statue. Thraxx batted and rode the statue down the ziggurat while the rest of the party picked away at the weak giants.

Thraxx shattered the idol, stole its ruby eyes, and proceeded to slay the final giant by jumping upon its face, knocking it down the ziggurat, and breaking its neck.

Beaten and bloodied, but victorious, the party rested for a time before proceeding on their hunt. At the end of their rest, they continued onwards, coming across a chocolate lake with a dock and some cultists.

Before Thraxx could charge across the docks, the party’s warlock summoned a fireball upon the cultists, slaying them and enraging their kraken “god”. Thraxx, using his boots of water walking, charged across the chocolate pond to grapple the kraken and drag it from the muck… he failed against a foe far larger than himself, being grappled and thrown. As he rose and went for a second round, the kraken grabbed him and swallowed him… Just where Thraxx wanted him!

From within, Thraxx ignited his Chime of Opening (Flametongue Greatsword) and slashed it from within, forcing it to vomit him up. Having taken substantial damage, and being hit point blank with a lightning bolt, Thraxx stealthily walked across the chocolate pond behind the kraken and slashed at it.

The cowardly creature retreated beneath the muck, emerged a distance away to swallow two other party members, and then allowed the dishonorable mages to kill it from within. Thraxx would be disappointed he could not claim a trophy from the kraken, but this hunt had proven to be quite successful thus far.

Retrospective: This was another fun game, albeit, quite difficult. I spent much of this game stunned or paralyzed, but Keith is a versatile GM that allows us to play other NPCs in cases like this. As always, his game running and terrain are on point and I look forward to next week’s game.

The Chronicle of Thraxx - Episode 4-5 - The Candyland Chronicles 1 & 2

Written by Flamereptile

Written: 01/19/26

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 4 & 5 – The Candyland Chronicles 1 & 2

Recap: We pick up this week, having just slain an Arch-Hag, visiting the Hells, and choosing to wage war against the rest of the coven.

Last week, we picked up with our mission to journey into Candyland (the Barovian Baking Company?) to track down the remaining hags and add their skulls to Thraxx’s collection. The GM had a really neat idea with how to progress through Candyland, literally plopping down a Candyland board and having us roll 1d6 (with each roll corresponding to the next colored square we would go to, and each square having an encounter type associated with it). He also planned encounters for the characters on the Candyland board.

We encountered these carriages abducting people for unknown reasons. We hijacked a carriage, disguised ourselves, and slew a few of the odd golems abducting people. Eventually we rode along the hijacked carriage (pulled by magic, not steeds) until we encountered a sentient tree that offered the party free items. Thraxx does not accept gifts, thus he did not make his presence known. Afterwards, we continued our travels to a keep in the middle of the road.

The keep belonged to a vampire, Lord Licorice, who was obsessed with blood sugar. Thraxx baited out Lord Licorice with the prospect of eating his party before he could feast on Thraxx… the foolish undead. As soon as he turned his back, Thraxx thrust his Chime of Opening (a Flametongue Longsword) into his back.

The beginning of the fight was rough, with Thraxx be charmed to flee while the rest of the (dishonorable spellcaster) party spammed Lord Licorice with sunlight spells. Once Thraxx had regained his senses, he charged forward, thrust his arm through a window, and tore Lord Licorice through it before slaying him with his sword.

We concluded last week with arriving at Plumpy’s Grove, which contained three Awakened Trees and some sort of Pumpking Tree Monster (Gulthias Blight). Thraxx challenged the foul tree, and together, the party made short work of them.

We picked up this week with the party arriving within some sort of maze made of peppermint and chocolate. A group of wolves arrived, speaking to us and threatening us. The party talked them out of attacking us, but Mr. Mint (an Animal Lord) would not let us pass in peace… Thraxx was elated.

Combat against Mr. Mint was long and arduous, with Thraxx spending much of it chasing down the big wolf. Finally, Thraxx caught up with Mr. Mint, grappling it so it couldn’t get away from him again. The remainder of the battle was a slugfest, with Mr. Mint and Thraxx exchanging blows for several rounds. The battle began to come to a close as Mr. Mint flew three hundred feet in the air and plummeted down when he couldn’t shake Thraxx. Thraxx was ready to plummet to his death with his prey, but the dishonorable wizard’s spell stopped them both at the end of their descent.

Mr. Mint would try again, but the dishonorable spellcasters would change gravity to disorient Mr. Mint. Eventually, Thraxx would grow tired of this debauchery, dragging Mr. Mint from a gravity well to force him into the ground, then stand and do it again within the same round. Each fall would whittle both Thraxx and Mr. Mint down, closer to death, until the final fall, Mr. Mint would deliver the final blow to the weakened Thraxx… UNTIL HE STOOD UP AND STABBED HIM TO DEATH!

Thraxx would claim Mr. Mint’s skull as a trophy, and now plans to have it out with the dishonorable wizard for his interference. And that is how this week’s adventuring ended.

Retrospective: Another great game! Well done Keith, your experience as a GM really shows. I think everybody had a lot of fun tonight playing, joking around, and fighting in this awesome boss fight. It’s also pretty neat that we’re getting to jump to level 15. Until the next time, thanks for reading, and thank you again to Keith for another great game.

p.s. I made a magic item last week after we joked about Thraxx painting himself purple for better stealth. Perhaps I will release it here on Dime Novel Adventures one day, but until then, I hope you enjoy it.

The Chronicles of Thraxx – Episode 0-2 – An Odd Beginning

Written by Flamereptile

Written: 12/29/25

The Chronicles of Thraxx – Episode 0-2 – An Odd Beginning

Having (happily) put myself in the position of forever GM, I am often reminded that I have far, far more play time as a GM than I do as an actual player, and I yearn to play on occasion. It was only a few weeks ago I called a few of my local game stores to see when their open play nights for TTRPGs were. After running games at one store, now a bit too far of a drive to consistently go there, I was weary of the… characters that might be running the games.

Episode 0 – Not Where I Wanted to Start

Weary or not, I was given a time, date, and phone number for a fellow that was running a game that next Monday. I was anxious to hop in but also excited at the prospects of playing.

Now, you need to remember while reading this, I’ve been running games consistently for over a decade now as the GM. I have developed over that time a perception of the kind of game I might like to play in, whether it’s true or not, and expectations for what should happen before, during, and after you’re at the table.

When I reached out to this GM I was left a little confused and unsure. He said we would be playtesting the 2024 Edition, and playing RAW. Now I’ve skimmed the 2024 books, and listened to countless hours of commentary on them, leaving me unimpressed at best and a bit disappointed at worst. Our home games haven’t switched over, and we were unlikely to do so.

I wanted to play a Minotaur, and that was 86’d immediately. Seemed a little silly, but it was what it was. He also gave us the setting: the Doomed Forgotten Realms – the setting that happens if the players fail every 5th Edition adventure there is. A neat concept, but I was unsure how it would work. Finally, we were starting at 12th level.

Now there were some hangups while creating my character: poor, inconsistent answers in the chat, seemingly strict rules, and what was the worst: being told that at 12th level I wouldn’t be able to take any magic items because my character hadn’t earned them. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to go and play, but I figured I’d give it one game at least.

I rolled up an Orc named Thraxx. A proud Barbarian/Fighter/Rogue from a hunter/warrior culture. I wrote a whole system for gaining and losing honor while on the hunt, developed the bones of his whole culture, and wrote a neat little backstory for him… all to maybe play one game with these people and decided it wasn’t for me. I did eventually get to pick some magic items, and since I was told that the GM would be running difficult encounters I chose to boost my AC to the max while also giving myself some real damage making capabilities.

Thraxx was ready, and I was reluctant, but we were going to play anyway.

Episode 1 – An Amazing Surprise (12/15/25)

Now, I kind of hope that this GM doesn’t read this blog, at least the Episode 0 part, because it’s all uphill from here.

I arrived about half an hour early to the game that first night, hoping to claim a nice seat and maybe meet the GM and players before we start. I was pleasantly surprised to meet the GM, a really nice and enthusiastic guy who was eager to get me started. He was walking me through the whole of the game, how they played, and what they were doing with the gusto of somebody truly passionate about what they were doing.

Thraxx joined this party of odd ducks in the middle of a colosseum battle. At level 12, four of us fought a Dragon Turtle and a Dracolich, neither of which Thraxx would deliver the final blows to, preventing him from taking trophies. But that wasn’t the point… yet. I was having a crazy amount of fun! I hadn’t had fun like this as a player for… well nearly a decade when I was first drawn in to TTRPGs!

After these tough battles, the god of Orcs, saddled in his sleight pulled by two flaming boars, began to fly over the colosseum, throwing celebratory Christmas battleaxes to all the good orcs below. This was my time to see what I could really do in this game. What I could get away with.

I positioned Thraxx atop an outcropping, holding his Action to rip this “gOd Of OrCs” from his sleight and assert dominance. To my surprise, he did it. Through a few good rolls, Thraxx ripped him from his sleigh, slammed him to the ground, and tore his head asunder as a trophy. Brutal and maybe a little excessive? Yeah, but I was testing some bounds. And to my amazement, the table erupted in excitement, laughter and cheers! Thraxx would bring a new dynamic to the party, one a little more serious and a lot more brutal, but a nice dichotomy to the silliness already there.

I talked with the GM a bit after the game, thanked him for running it, and listened to his excitement about me joining and having Thraxx in the party. It felt good, and I’m thankful to have been included. I departed that night with dreams of brutality, and fantasy fondness.

Episode 2 – A Return to Excitement (12/22/25)

Surely lightning couldn’t strike twice, right? Wrong.

I arrived at the game the next week, skeptical that I would have as much fun for a second week in a row. Surely it was a fluke, right? Wrong again.

We started the session by finding out that the “gOd Of OrCs” Thraxx slew was the leader of the Orcs that patroned the colosseum, and they were in need of new leadership. Thraxx made a power move to start the game, slaying  a mammoth that was the symbol of their old, weak regime. They were dumbstruck, but fell in line.

Well that was fun. What’s next? We were given a quest with promises of greater foes for Thraxx to fight… he was in. We flew upon the party’s Roc to complete a sort of fetch quest. Go here, get a guy, find out his interplanar travel visa was rejected, promise to get it fixed for him… a little odd, but fun nonetheless.

We took a portal to the home of a fey queen, which was stuck in a time stop spell. We bypassed the strange guards, fed a fat giant with some big cake, and entered into a fight with a Jabberwocky.

Now the last week we fought a Dragon Turtle and a Dracolich, and not once did Thraxx feel threatened. He had a Cloak of Displacement and a 24 AC, so why would he? But during this Jabberwocky fight, which used the 2024 stat of an Ancient Black Dragon with a few of the Jabberwocky abilities from another book, it was different. By the end Thraxx was drained. He’d hit 0 and barely survived because of his Relentless Endurance. He’d been charmed and confused and felt a bit hopeless during much of the fight (stupid burble ability).

Honestly, the whole party was doing rough. We nearly TPK’d! But it was great! The stakes were high, our blood was pumping, all good things!

But there was one moment where it all changed for the better. Thraxx broke his burble (really it just wandered a little too far away) and used his Horn of Blasting to deafen it, freeing the party of its nasty ability. We made short work of it after that, but Thraxx (and I) felt like a hero! It was super fun, and one of the most memorable battles I’ve ever played. I even got to use a cheesy line like, “Thraxx isn’t trapped in here with you! You’re trapped in here with Thraxx!”

After the big battle a few clowns, I mean…, troublemakers walked in. A cleric, a mage, and a warrior, old names from old books. The smarted off to our nearly dead party, but seemed to not know that Thraxx was always rearing for a battle, and even while on death’s door he was hard to hit. While the party healed up, Thraxx claimed three new skulls for his belt. Even this little side fight was memorable.

We ended the game there, and I was met with the same kind of enthusiasm as the week prior. I thanked the GM again, wished everybody Merry Christmas, and went home, looking forward to what next week would hold.

Retrospective: Now, I’m writing this all in retrospective. It all happened a few weeks ago for me, and I’m checking my notes again before writing about it, but these are easily some of the most fun TTRPG games I’ve ever been a player in. I’m so grateful to have been able to find this group, to be able to play with them, and to look forward to playing with them. I’m still happily a forever GM, but it’s nice to be able to be a player as well.

Thank you again to the GM for running the games. I look forward to next week’s game, and to writing about how much fun they are. Until next time, thank you for reading.

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 3 – To Hell and Back Again

Written by Flamereptile

Written: 12/29/25

The Chronicle of Thraxx – Episode 3 – To Hell and Back Again

Recap: We pick up this week having just slain a Jabberwocky in Episode 2. We happened across a library where we met a strange librarian who gave us many tomes on demons, and took us to the fey queen stuck in time. Our party approached the fey queen, imprisoned upon her throne, but as we approached, three hags appeared.

The hags tried to convince us to slay the fey queen, but Thraxx informed them he was here to stab her with a unicorn horn. They obliged, hoping he would fatally wound the queen,  but instead he used the horn to free her of the time stop. The fey queen and the hags bickered of right and wrong, pointing fingers, but the queen would inform Thraxx the hags ate children, a dishonorable act.

Thraxx rushed at the hags, hacking and slashing as his party assisted. He would wound one hag, as another party member finished her off, then decapitate a second. The third would call upon the obese giant from Episode 2, but the party druid would instead convince it to venture off elsewhere to consume the corpse of the Jabberwocky. After Thraxx had damaged it considerable, the had would plane shift away.

The party’s wizard (still not really sure what he is) would plane shift us in pursuit into the Hells. Thraxx would chase the hag, spearing her with Speak With Animals, then subduing her with a net. Another party member would deliver the finishing blow. Afterwards, the party would be approached by a group of fallen angels who would lead us to their queen.

Before the queen of the fallen angels, the party would negotiate, but Thraxx was disinterested in their affairs. Afterwards, they would venture back to the material plane to confront the queen of hags.

Beneath the colosseum, which Thraxx would soon claim, they would confront the tricky creature. She would dishonorably teleport, perform spells of mind control, and conjure lightning. At one point, the hag had confused Thraxx, suggesting that he would be better served to sell tickets to the colosseum than slay her. Charmed, Thraxx would stow his flaming greatsword, now called the Chime of Opening, and exit the tunnels, screaming at the peon guards to sell more tickets.

He would never admit it, but it took the dispelling of his charm, a mere moment later, for Thraxx to truly become enraged. He sprinted through the tunnels, all the way back to the queen hag’s throne, where he would lift her cauldron and use it to bludgeon the queen hag to death. He would later have it reforged into a powerful greatclub that he would name Dispel Magic.

An that is how Episode Three ends, with Thraxx and the party slaying an Arch Hag.

Retrospective: This may not make a ton of sense, since I’m jumping into the middle of a story with an unknown character, but in time it will. Tonight’s game was an absolute blast, and I’m thankful to have been able to play. I’m still riding the rush of excitement that came with playing tonight. I will soon do a blog of Episodes 0-2, giving some insight into who Thraxx is, what the setting is, and more. Until then, thanks for reading, and thank you to the GM for running this game.

The Tale of Westerin

Long ago, there lived a humble craftsman named Westerin Wester. He was a soft-spoken, simple-minded man whose greatest ambition was to rise above his station and claim a noble title of his own. That dream might have faded into obscurity, had Westerin not wandered one fateful day into the domain of a cunning Green Dragon.

The wyrm saw in Westerin a malleable mortal, desperate enough to bargain, and too naïve to understand the cost. The dragon promised him lordship and influence beyond his wildest dreams. Westerin, blinded by aspiration, agreed without hesitation.

The dragon performed an ancient, invasive rite upon him - one that was neither a blessing nor a curse, but a remaking. The ritual ignited Westerin’s dormant potential, sharpening his wit to a razor’s edge. The man who had once struggled with simple arithmetic now grasped alchemical formulae, biomancy theory, and arcane patterns as though he had always known it.

With his mind awakened, Westerin discovered he could sculpt a perfect lineage that could conquer empires and outlive this world. His dreams had changed. Nobility no longer satisfied him. He now wanted a dynasty, a line that would spread across the Coastlands, generation by generation, until his descendants occupied every seat of power, from the cold northern wastes to the fair lands to the south.

Westerin would divide his perfect bloodline into two castes: the greater of his line - bold and decisive rulers that would command the lands they had conquered - and the lesser of his line - deliberate and precise administrators that would advise and serve their greater kin with absolute loyalty. To prevent his dynasty from collapsing in upon itself, from greed or pride, Westering would weave into his lineage a deep seated loyalty and aversion to the spilling of Wester blood.

From his stronghold in the north, Westerin began siring descendants, and placing them into positions of influence. He did so quietly at first, spreading his domain southward like a creeping vine.

Decades would pass, children grew, and grandchildren were born into the burgeoning Wester Empire. Only then did Westerin realize what he had overlooked - the dragon’s “blessing” had concealed a curse. The dragon had placed a draconic seal upon Westerin and his line, and through it, the dragon could whisper to his descendants, influence their thoughts, and peer through their eyes into the world they lived in.

Westerin had found the Greater Westers - willful and bold - could resist the whispers, but the Lesser Westers - supportive, deferential, and orderly - took to the dragon’s whispers like dry parchment drinking spilled ink. Unable to differentiate the dragon’s whispers from their own thoughts, they would become its unwitting mouthpieces, relaying its nudges and suggestions to their greater counterparts, swaying their every decision through everyday bureaucracy.

In time, a horrifying revelation overcame Westerin: the traits granting the greater of his line resistance to the dragon’s influences were recessive. If left unchecked, his lesser kin would quickly outnumber the greater, and his dynasty would become nothing more than the dragon’s pawns.

Old, weary, and burdened by the consequences of his past, Westerin would institute a grim family tradition to preserve his dynasty. His lesser descendants, short and thin, would be magically sterilized at birth, not out of cruelty, but out of love for his dynasty.

With death approaching, and paranoia of a failed dynasty tightening its grip over him, Westerin sought to free his family from the dragon’s clutches. In secret, even from his closest of kin, Westerin created the Artifacts of Wester, a set of ceremonial weapons, armor, and tools forged with alchemical precision from black onyx. He bound them to the fate of his lineage as the weapon that would either save them or damn them to servitude.

In his final moments, Westerin would imprint his spirit onto the artifacts, staying behind as a guiding echo, awaiting the day a worthy Wester would take up his burden.

The Bleeding of the World Tree

Only the most ancient elders remember when our world was alive - when rivers still flowed with shimmering lights, an the air was thick with love and hope. In those days, the World Tree towered above all, its roots binding the earth, it crown brushing the heavens, a sentinel that nourished every living thing beneath its canopy. Peace reigned, broken only by petty quarrels of kingdoms long since turned to dust. But the peace of the World Tree was fragile, and its end came swifter than any could have then imagined.

It was the Elves who dwelt beneath the boughs of the World Tree, shepherds and wardens of life itself. However, they would not foresee the darkness that descended from beyond the stars. Vast ships, like fingers from a cruel god, reached down and exhaled black clouds upon the tree. By an enemy unknown and unprovoked, the Elves were slaughtered before they had even known they were fighting. Their voices silenced, their works unmade, and the World Tree itself began to wither beneath a shroud of blackened corruption.

The nations of man stirred, raising armies and sharpening steel, awaiting the invasion that never came. Days faded into weeks; scouts retuned only with tales of charred earth and vast, hollowed wastelands where life had once thrived beneath the World Tree. In desperation, the rulers of old gathered their hosts for a grand assault. They marched to the Deadlands - the blackened scar left by the invaders - and there they beheld their foe.

The creatures were abominations: draconic in stature, but insectile in form, their swarms appeared endless. They fled at the sight of the mortal armies, drawing them into pursuit - only for fire and sorcery to rain down from the skies. The hosts were butchered before their charge could reach the tree. The World Tree remained defiled, and no banners would return home.

Time crept onward. Magic bled from the world as the tree's strength waned. Sages wept blood as the first of its branches cracked and fell, unleashing clouds of the swarming creatures, but never finding rest upon the blackened earth. A final desperate coalition formed, all peoples bound together in their final acts of defiance. But when they reached the Deadlands, the swarm rose from the tree like a storm. Before their eyes, the tree was devoured, ripped into splinters by a living black tide. Before they could reach its base, only a lifeless, gray stump remained, and above it a new finger of the enemy's fleet began to take shape. By dusk, it had joined the others reaching down from a darkened sky, then, as suddenly as they had come, the invaders departed.

The death of the World Tree marked the death of our world. Leylines cracked and faded, the spellplague raged unchecked, harvests rotted in the fields where they were planted, and plagues swept across the world. Mages, desperate to save what once was, drained the last vestiges of life from the earth itself - first its forests, then its beasts, and finally its people. They became pariahs, hunted and hated by the shattered remnants of once-great nations, now reduced to scavenging tribes.

What remains of our world is a husk. It's barren, a graveyard of dust and ruin, a wasteland where the bones of the World Tree fester. Go now, children - walk the corpse of our dead world and endure. Wander the wastes and carry with you memories of a world long forgotten.

The Stronghold of Security

Remember when we were young, playing Runescape 2 and venturing just west of Varrock into the Barbarian Village for the first time? For some of us, including myself, this wasn’t so long ago… As a child I never really put any stock into passwords and account protection, but then again, when I was a child the internet was a very different place.

For those of you that haven’t played Runescape, the Stronghold of Security is a multi-level dungeon that requires the player descend deeper until they reach the prize at the end, however, traversal requires that you, as the player, implement certain game security features and password protections. As a child I saw this as an irritating block between me and a free 10k gp and a colorful pair of boots, but as an adult I see the merits.

I bring all of this up, because, this morning I checked my Reddit, as I often do, to see what was new in the communities I followed. However, upon logging in I was met with something unusual: lots of messages and comments and a banner that stated my account was permanently banned. This was a shock, as I typically only lurked on subreddits, using them as methods of polling others for information rather than true interaction. I checked the “messages” and “comments” and discovered that I had been hacked, and not only hacked, but whomever took control over my account had entered some inappropriate communities and had posted some very inappropriate things.

Sitting there, staring at the carcass of my first Reddit account, I mourned as I deactivated it. This must be a facsimile of how NPCs feel when a PC casts an enchantment spell on them. A bit powerless, a bit sad, and very embarrassed for something they didn’t even do themselves.

Be better than me, make sure you use varied passwords for everything. Make sure you use 2-Factor Authentication when you can. And make sure you wear your Ring of Mind Shielding when you surf the web.

Thanks for reading,

Flamereptile

Web-Developer Blog #1

This marks the first of the Dime Novel Adventures Web Developer Blogs. We got a lot done on the site today! We finished the first version of the homepage, revised the site Footer, finished the first version of the Contact Us page, and… guess what? Started the Blog Page! We hope in the future to do away with the Web-Developer Blogs and post primarily short-stories, lore, and tales of our games.