The Fifth Crusade
For over a century, the demon-haunted wasteland of the Worldwound has bled into the world of mortals. As the magical Wardstones that hold back the tide begin to flicker and fail, a new generation of crusaders must take up the sword. But this war requires more than steel; it requires the power of Myths.
Paladin / Wizard
Monk / Paladin
Inquisitor / Rogue
Paladin / Oracle
Intelligence Report: The Drezen Approach
The seat of the city's command. Still enemy-held. The war ends here.
Still in demon hands. The western approach is not yet won.
Some two hundred prisoners freed. Many now carry bows for the crusade.
Taken and held. Paradise Hill sealed at its back — nothing reaches the hill now but wings or magic.
Irabeth's army, camped on ground the enemy held that morning. The road west waits.
No one who enters returns. Unread, and next on the list.
Seventy-five years in demon hands. The citadel is not a target in the war — it is the war. Everything else is the road to its gate.
The dry riverbed that carried the army unseen to Drezen's edge. Its western crossing remains demon-held; the camp sits instead south of the unnamed eastern bridge, below sealed Paradise Hill.
"We hold one hill and one bridge — a foothold on the edge, no more. The west is not won, and a graveyard no one walks out of sits square in the road."
The Worldwound
Session XII — Sword of Valor
The plan was laid in a whisper — a hand-span of embers and five heads bent close, because a traitor still walked the camp and no council could be trusted to the open air. In the last black hour before dawn, a hundred paladins and the four went forward into the ruins of Drezen. A watchtower fell first: schir demons on the roof and a vrock that could see the unseen, put down in blood. At Paradise Hill they broke a cellar door on some two hundred prisoners and freed them — many took up fallen blades, and more were handed bows. Then the unnamed bridge south of the hill, seized after Caleth's fireball fell as acid across the enemy leadership and the cultist and tiefling camps on its far side broke and routed. The hill is sealed at the crusade's back now — nothing reaches it without wings or foul magic — and Irabeth's army camps on the very ground the enemy held that morning: a foothold on Drezen's edge, won and paid for. The outer city is not cleared. The Ahari crossing to the west is still demon-held. And square in the road west sits a cemetery no one who enters walks out of. That is the next target.
Fallen Guardian
Silver Dragon · Protector of Kenabres
“She never lived to see Drezen. She fell above Kenabres so that others might one day stand where she could not — and now her crusade holds its first ground on the city's edge, one bought yard of it turned back to the light. The silver scale at Korroc's belt slept quiet through this fight, unspent. But he keeps it close all the same. Some gifts you carry whether or not the day asks for them.”
The Painter’s Fury
Paladin / Wizard
Radiance opened the towertop fight — the holy glaive driven home before the demons knew the air had spat enemies onto their roof. Turned a shocking-grasp inside out into a burst of killing cold. Then, across the gorge, loosed a fireball that fell not as flame but as acid over the enemy’s leadership, felling a whole swath at once. Folded the strike team through the air to land behind the army. And gave the freed prisoners his word — and bows. “Archers are always valuable in a war.”
The Thunder’s Reach
Monk / Paladin
Punched a schir clean off the tower and over the parapet. Lit his fists with holy fire against the vrock, celestial fury banked along every knuckle. Read the enemy’s critical points from across the gorge and asked to be put behind them — then hunted casters and leaders through the press until the whole army broke. Took the worst blows of the day standing, and accepted the strengthened life-link with a chuckle. “I’ll do my best.”
Shadow of Judgment
Inquisitor / Rogue
Climbed the outer stair unseen, on his own feet, through a dark he was made for — and met a vrock that could see him anyway. Ran a gauntlet of demon and friendly arrows both at a dead sprint. Came up behind the vrock with mother’s knife and father’s and put the daggers in the seam under its wing, and it fell. At the war-table, looking at the last mark on the map: “Well, that’s our next target then.”
The Wall That Walks
Paladin / Oracle
Felt his cousin’s wounds bloom in his own chest from the towertop — “Thane is being attacked below!” — and could not reach him. Thickened the life-link to carry half of every blow Nageru took into the enemy’s rear. Turned back into the tentacles and the poison-cloud to pull a trapped Caleth free. Rolled healing waves over the whole company. And set foot, at last, on the edge of the city his parents’ generation built and died losing.
Current Status
Paradise Hill sealed · The road west waits
A foothold, won and paid for. The watchtower fell, the unnamed bridge south of Paradise Hill was taken and held under crusader arrows, and some two hundred prisoners walked free — many of them now armed, some in crusader steel taken back off the enemy's hoard. The hill is sealed at the army's back, and Irabeth's camp stands on ground the enemy held that morning. It is not the siege — not yet. The outer city is uncleared, the west unwon, and square in the road sits a cemetery no one has ever walked out of. And somewhere in the company a saboteur still moves — unproven, unnamed, and not yet run to ground.
Retrieving field report...
A visual record of the Worldwound and the souls caught in its wake
End of Record
