Session 38: The Descent Into Avernus

Sigil’s Quiet Before the Storm

In the heart of Sigil, the adventurers regrouped after time apart. Yashkin and Echeri returned from the Shattered Temple, while Glory and Harrow wandered the markets searching for bread and clean clothes, still splattered with the blood of their previous ordeal.

An invitation awaited them: the Festival of Mourning, a Kyrian remembrance of the Day of Mourning. Each was asked to bring a gift, a token to honor those lost.

They gathered in the home of Anton the Warforged, where the party finally shared a peaceful meal together — a rare pause between battles. In quiet reverence, they lit three candles: one for those who were gone, one for those who remained, and one for what still bound them together. Each member spoke truths aloud — words of love, loss, and revelations discovered along the way.

Yet even in that warmth, the shadow of prophecy lingered. The words “One among you will betray the others” haunted them still. And in the silence that followed, a chilling discovery surfaced — both Brethka and Shahar had lost their memories after visiting Sanctum.

Later that night, when the group separated, Echeri and Brethka shared a moment of closeness — a kiss infused with a spell of greater restoration. The magic restored Brethka’s stolen memories, and with them came a horrifying truth. She remembered visiting Sanctum to deliver bracelets for Echeri, but the woman she met there was not the real Echeri. Someone had been impersonating her, erasing memories from those she loved.

The revelation cast a shadow across the group. Someone in Sigil was stalking them, wearing familiar faces.

Cora’s Watchful Vigil

While the others sought comfort in company, Cora remained reclusive, wary of the shifting faces around her. She spent her days in the library with Mordenkainen, pretending to study while secretly observing him, still uncertain whether the wizard before her was truly himself.

Mordenkainen, ever impatient, thrust a stack of books into her hands.“There are few maps that can guide you in Avernus,” he told her sharply. “The plane shifts. A road drawn one day becomes a labyrinth the next. Learn its landmarks, or you’ll wander forever.”

Cora tried to excuse herself by claiming she felt ill, but Mordenkainen paused and studied her with uncharacteristic concern. He reached out to check her pulse — a simple gesture, but one surprisingly gentle.“Rest,” he said, his tone softening. “I don’t say that often. Take it seriously.”

In the days that followed, Cora’s studies revealed the grim truths of Avernus.The very air of the plane corrupted the soul.Infernal war machines powered by soul coins traversed its wastes.Gold held no value.And the few safe havens that existed — such as the Wandering Emporium — drifted aimlessly through the hellish expanse.

Cora resolved to prepare her spells carefully, knowing that protection and endurance would matter more than any act of violence.

The Forge and the Gnome

At Brethka’s forge, morning arrived with the smell of smoke and sausages. Echeri awoke to find Brethka hard at work, tools clattering as she prepared weapons and armor for the journey to Hell.

A bell rang from below. From the shower, Brethka called, “Echeri, get that! It’s my last pickup before we close for the week.”

When Echeri opened the door, a small gnome stood on the threshold. His posture was nervous, his smile rehearsed. His eyes flickered with an expression she couldn’t place — recognition, or perhaps fear.“Is Brethka in?” he asked.“She’s busy,” Echeri replied. “Can I help you?”“I’m here to collect an order. It’s already been paid for.”

When Echeri handed over the small box, the gnome’s expression shifted.“Thank you, Echeri,” he said.The sound of her name froze her in place.“How do you know who I am?” she asked.He hesitated only a moment. “Brethka mentioned you.”

He took the package and left without another word.

Later, when Echeri told Brethka what happened, the smith frowned.“He brought his own materials,” she explained. “Said he wanted a pendant made from the eye of a beholder. I never asked where he got it.”

The gnome had called himself Bigby. The name lingered like a ghost in the back of Echeri’s mind.

The Wizards Three

When dawn broke, the Wizards Three gathered in the Sanctum: Mordenkainen, stern and serious; Tasha, irreverent and impatient; and Alustriel, radiant but visibly weary.

“We are gathered here today…” Tasha began dramatically.Mordenkainen groaned, “Tasha, this is not a carnival.”“You make everything sound like a funeral,” she teased.

Before the group departed, Alustriel placed two blue feathers into Echeri’s hands — one for Brethka and one for Ruby.“These will guide you home,” she said softly. “Remember, in Avernus, every promise is a chain. Choose your words carefully, and remember — no piece of the Rod is worth your life.”

With a heavy breath, Mordenkainen activated the teleportation circle.“May the gods have mercy on you,” he said, “for Avernus will not.”

The Descent Into Avernus

The portal blazed open with light and fire. The moment they stepped through, the air turned to ash. The heat was suffocating. The sky itself seemed to bleed.

Mountains of slag and rivers of molten brass surrounded them. Chains thicker than trees hung from the heavens, binding unseen horrors. The very ground groaned with despair.

Each of them felt the weight of evil pressing down. Even the light-born among them felt their spirits strain under the infernal sky.

Cora’s studies proved true: navigation was nearly impossible. The land curved and twisted, forcing them to walk in endless circles. The Decanter of Endless Water that Brethka carried poured out foul-smelling oil. Every ration tasted like ash. Every step felt heavier than the last.

After hours — or what felt like days — of trudging through the burning plain, Yashkin collapsed to his knees. His spear, Ruin’s Wake, pulsed with light and heat, and a voice echoed in his mind.

“Do you not miss it, Tyr? The scent before the slaughter.Your hands remember, even if your heart pretends it does not.”

The weapon had awakened. Its runes burned with divine fury turned wicked. Its sentience, now fully alive, whispered to him in Gruumsh’s voice.

As the others tried to rouse him, the spear called him by his old name — Tyr — the name of the warrior he once was before his vow of peace.He fought the voice, trembling, whispering that it wasn’t real. But the weapon only laughed.

The War Machine and the Blood War

Thunder rolled across the infernal horizon. From the smoke emerged a colossal war machine, bristling with harpoons and spinning gears. Three Erinyes warriors — devils with iron wings — hovered above it, their armor etched with infernal scripture.

“Friend or foe?” one called out.“Neither,” Glory answered.“Excellent,” the devil smiled. “Perhaps we can strike a deal.”

The Erinyes explained their terms. They would ferry the party to the Red Belvedere, the rumored resting place of the next fragment of the Rod. In exchange, the mortals would aid them in a nearby skirmish against a demonic siege beast.

The group agreed and climbed aboard the roaring vehicle. The air filled with the smell of brimstone and blood as they sped across the plains, joining the endless Blood War — the eternal conflict between devils and demons.

The Siege of the Goristro

Their target soon came into view: a towering Goristro, a beast of horn and sinew large enough to crush fortresses underfoot.

The battle erupted in chaos.

• Glory manned a harpoon, grinning fiercely as she fired.

• Cora climbed onto the vehicle’s hood, hurling bolts of divine light.

• Harrow reached into the creature’s mind, weaving a Mental Prison that trapped it in visions of blood-red oceans.

• Echeri unleashed Sunbeam, scorching radiant light into its hide.

• Yashkin, driven by fury, spread his wings and leapt from the vehicle, plunging Ruin’s Wake into the monster’s knee.

The Goristro’s charge nearly crushed them. The ground split as Brethka wrenched the wheel, swerving the machine out of harm’s way. Harpoons fired, fire rained from the sky, and the air was thick with screams.

Glory, teleporting through flame and smoke, joined Yashkin at the creature’s leg. Together, they fought with primal fury — one consumed by wrath, the other by righteous defiance.

When the creature finally buckled, Glory drove her sword deep into its throat.A blinding flash followed as her blade absorbed the Goristro’s soul, transforming her weapon into a vessel of infernal power.

The battlefield went silent. The monster fell, and its roar faded into the burning wind.

Chains and Choices

The Erinyes descended, their armor gleaming in the firelight.“Zariel rewards her faithful,” one said. “Serve her, and you will rule the lands beyond death.”

Yashkin’s eyes glowed red once more, his hand tightening on Ruin’s Wake. The spear whispered to him again, urging him to accept. For a moment, he almost did. But then, with a shuddering breath, he slammed the weapon into the ground and whispered, “No.”

The Erinyes smiled coldly and turned to claim their prize — a caged unicorn they had captured during the battle. They chained it to the back of their war machine, dragging it away toward Zariel’s fortress.

Echeri’s hands trembled as she reached for her weapon, but Brethka caught her wrist.“We can’t interfere,” she warned softly. “Not here. Not yet.”

The unicorn’s cry echoed as they rode away.

Arrival at the Red Belvedere

Hours later, the horizon split open to reveal the skeletal remains of a colossal dragon. Its skull loomed like a mountain, the flames of Avernus flickering behind its hollow eyes.

The Erinyes dismounted and gestured toward the gaping maw.“Go in the mouth,” one said with a grin. “You’ll find your way.”

Inside, the adventurers descended through a tunnel lined with jagged teeth until it opened into a massive chamber of gold and fire.

There, beneath the skull of Tiamat herself, rose a glittering palace — its spires made of bone and gold, its halls alive with laughter and sin. Music swelled, dice clattered, and voices cried out in triumph and despair.

They had arrived at the Red Belvedere, a casino where every wager is paid in souls and every winner loses something far greater.