Session 34 — Read-Aloud Text

At-the-table reference. Read these blocks aloud at the marked moments. Italics are DM notes — don’t read those.

OPENING — The Lookout (Scene 1)

Before the dragon roars. The party is planning. Set the stage.

You stand at the edge. The lookout — a ledge carved for giants — juts out over the volcano’s throat. Below you, the interior of the mountain opens up like a wound. Ten levels of spiralling paths and platforms, carved by hands far larger than yours, switchback down through stone and shadow into the deep.

The heat rises in waves. Not dry heat — wet, heavy, alive. It carries the smell of sulphur and hot iron and something older. Something that was burning before anyone gave fire a name.

Far below — impossibly far — the Star Forge glows. A furnace of black iron and primordial stone, fed by rivers of molten rock. You can see the lava channels — bright orange veins in the dark — converging on the forge like arteries feeding a heart.

And at the heart: a figure. Small from up here. Grey-skinned. Chained.

Durrak Stoneforge. Alive.

Beside the forge, something enormous moves. The ancient white dragon — its scales dulled to the colour of ash, chains not around its body but through it — scoops lava with ruined claws and pours it into the forge channels. Mechanical. Broken. A beast of legend reduced to a beast of burden.

The forge roars. The dragon groans. Chains rattle somewhere in the dark.

Behind you, the way you came is changing. You can hear it — wet sounds, organic sounds, the throne room’s corruption spreading. The flesh walls are growing.

You’re between two things that want to consume you.

Pause. Let them take it in. Then: “What do you do?”

CATALYST 1 — The Dragon Roars

Trigger: After the party has had a moment to plan. Interrupt their discussion.

It comes from below.

Pause.

Not a growl. Not a cry. A roar — but fractured. Broken. Like a voice that forgot what sound was and is remembering all at once. The ancient white dragon has lifted its head from the lava for the first time in… you don’t know how long.

The roar hits the walls and climbs. The entire volcano rings with it. Dust shakes loose from the ceiling. The lava channels below ripple and slosh. You feel it in your ribs, in your teeth, in the soles of your feet.

And then — below you — every possessed giant in the volcano stops.

All of them. At the same moment. Mid-step, mid-swing, mid-breath. Frozen. Then their heads turn. Not up toward the dragon.

Up toward you.

And they start climbing.

Beat. Then describe what they can see: giants on levels 5, 6, 7, 8 — all moving upward in eerie coordination. Not panicking. Not running. Moving like pieces on a board.

The dragon drops its head. Returns to scooping lava. Whatever it felt didn’t last.

CATALYST 2 — The Corruption (Levels 9-7)

Not a single read-aloud moment. Drip-feed these descriptions as they descend.

Level 9 — The First Wrongness

The rock is wrong here. You almost don’t notice it at first — thin dark lines in the stone, like veins. Like the mountain grew capillaries. If you look closely, they pulse. Faintly. Slowly. To a rhythm that isn’t yours.

Level 8 — It Gets Worse

The veins are thicker now. In places, the rock has… softened. It’s not stone anymore. Not quite flesh. Something between. Your boots sink a fraction of an inch with each step. The walls are wet — sweating a faintly luminous fluid that smells of copper and spoiled meat.

The air is heavier. Harder to breathe. Not the heat — something else. Like the mountain is exhaling.

Level 7 — The Walls Breathe

Press your hand against the wall. You feel it.

In. Out. In. Out.

The mountain is breathing. The walls expand and contract — a rhythm like a sleeping animal. The Far Realm corruption from the throne room isn’t just spreading. It’s converting. Rock to flesh. Stone to organ.

You look up. The levels above you are darker now. Wetter. The corruption is visible — creeping down the interior walls like a stain spreading through cloth. It’s behind you. It’s above you. And it’s faster than you are.

You look down. The lower levels are still clean — the primordial fire of the forge seems to hold it back. The light down there is still honest heat, honest flame.

But the corruption is winning. Slowly. Inevitably. It will reach the forge. And when it does, this mountain becomes something else entirely.

THE ROD AWAKENS (Levels 7-6)

Trigger: After the party passes level 7. Address the Rod carrier directly.

[Rod carrier’s name]. Your hand is warm.

Pause. Let them react.

Not from the heat. The Rod of Seven Parts — inert since you took it, dead weight, a stick of ancient metal — is warm. Hot. Not burning. Not painful. But alive. Like it woke up. Like it’s glad to be home.

The ley line chains in the walls flare. All of them. At once. A web of golden light erupting through the stone — and they’re pulsing. In rhythm. The same rhythm as the Rod. A heartbeat, calling to a heartbeat.

The forge below blazes white for a single breath. Then settles.

And the Rod is pulling. Gently. Like a compass finding north. Toward the Star Forge. If you let go, you’re certain it would fall straight down. Through stone if it had to.

Then: the giants below change behaviour.

Below you, the possessed giants stop climbing. All of them. Again. In unison. But this time they don’t look up.

They look at each other. And then they begin repositioning. Moving to the paths between you and the forge. Not coming to you anymore.

Blocking the way down.

Something is directing them. Something that knows exactly where you need to go.

VECNA SPEAKS (Level 7-6, After Rod Awakens)

Trigger: Scene 5 in the encounter sequence. This is in their minds, not spoken aloud.

Slow your voice. Drop the volume. Don’t perform Vecna as a villain — perform him as certainty.

You don’t hear it. You know it. The words arrive in your mind fully formed, as if they were always there and you only just noticed. Cold. Patient. Old beyond counting.

Speak directly to the whole table:

“You brought it back.”

Long pause. Five seconds. Let the silence work.

“The forge is warm. The smith awaits. Everything is as it should be.”

Nothing more. No threat. No bargain. No rage. Just the absolute, unshakeable belief that you are doing exactly what he wants.

Lux — Vecna’s Grip Check #3: DC 16.

VECNA’S WORDS TO LUX (Grip Check #3 — If He Fails)

Only read this if Lux fails the DC 16 check. Whisper it. Lean toward Lux’s player.

And then, quieter. Just for you. In the marrow of the bones you stole.

“That body remembers me. It ached for me before you crawled inside it. Do you feel it? The way it wants to go home?”

Your legs move. One step. Two. Toward the edge. Toward down. The giant’s muscles know where Allabar is. They have always known.

If he succeeds, he still hears it — but his legs don’t move.

You hear something — less than a whisper, more than silence. Words in a language the giant’s body understands but you don’t. It lasts a heartbeat. Then it’s gone. But your hands are shaking. And the body wanted to move. You felt that. You held it. But it wanted to.

ALLABAR STRIKES (Levels 6-5)

Trigger: Once combat is engaged on the lower levels.

The mountain shakes.

Not from inside. From above. A sound like thunder — but deeper, heavier, longer — and then IMPACT. The upper levels of the volcano crack. Rock explodes inward. Dust billows down through the interior in a grey curtain.

Something hit the mountain. From outside.

Beat.

You look up. Through the haze, through the dust, through the open peak of the volcano — the sky is wrong. The Red Moon is visible. In daylight. It shouldn’t be there. It’s too close. Too bright. Too red. And it’s moving.

Another impact. Closer. A burning rock — an asteroid, wreathed in red fire — punches through the upper rim of the volcano. It tears through level 10. Through the lookout. Through the exact spot where you were standing thirty minutes ago.

The stone screams. The upper levels begin to collapse.

The Opener of the Way is trying to bury you alive.

Continue with asteroid mechanics during combat. Between impacts:

Where the asteroids hit, the corruption spreads faster. Red veins shoot out from the craters like infection from a wound. The flesh walls above are racing now — fed by Far Realm energy raining from the sky.

The moon watches. The eye in the heavens. Allabar.

There is no going back up.

THE GRAND PORTAL (Levels 5-6, Late Session)

This is the biggest moment of the session. Take your time. Slow down. Make them see it.

The mountain face opens.

Stop. Let them process that sentence.

Not breaks. Not cracks. Opens. Like an eye. A section of the volcano wall — two hundred feet across, directly above where the Star Forge descends into the earth — splits apart. Slowly. Deliberately. As if the mountain is doing this on purpose.

Behind the stone is not more stone. Behind the stone is not the Far Realm. Behind the stone is space.

Pause.

You see it. Allabar. Not as a light in the sky — as a place. The Red Moon hangs in the void, enormous, so close you could count the cracks in its surface. And across that surface — wrapped around it like a net, like chains, like a web spun by hands that shaped the world — the ley line chains. Golden threads of divine binding. Ancient. Perfect. Holding something inside.

Pause.

And behind the chains. Behind the surface. Behind the veil.

You see him.

Lower your voice.

Not clearly. A shadow. An outline. A silhouette that is too tall, too thin, with one eye that burns like a dying star — and one socket that is dark and empty and hungrier than anything you’ve ever felt.

Vecna. Imprisoned. Pressing against the chains from the inside. His hand — enormous, skeletal, reaching through a gap no wider than a needle — strains toward you. The golden chains flare. The hand stops.

But the eye doesn’t close.

He sees the Rod.

Let this land. Then:

The portal stays open. It hangs there — a window two hundred feet wide — looking into a god’s prison. You can see it from everywhere in the volcano now. The chains around the moon. The shadow pressing against them. The eye.

Everything you’re doing — the descent, the forge, the weapon — it’s all connected to that. Those golden chains. That burning eye. The thing pressing against the gap.

You are very, very small. And you are exactly where everyone wants you to be.

THE HARBINGER — Reeny’s Arrival (After Grand Portal)

Trigger: Moments after the Grand Portal opens. While the party is still processing Vecna. A second portal tears open BELOW them, at the forge level.

Don’t rush this. Let the Grand Portal land first. Then:

Something else opens.

Pause. Let them look.

Not above. Below. At the forge level. A tear in the air — but this one is different. Not the shimmering red of the Far Realm. This is black fire. Rimmed in burning orange. The smell hits you even from up here — sulphur and brimstone, cutting through the lava stink like a blade.

Beat.

A figure steps through. Human. A woman. She moves like she owns whatever ground she walks on. Armoured. Walking with purpose.

Turn to Lyra’s player. Lower your voice.

Lyra. You recognise her.

Let Lyra’s player react. If they don’t say it immediately:

Alora. You recognise her too.

Let them tell the table. If they need a push:

You last saw her getting drunk with you in Highpoint. Laughing. Toasting. Your friend.

She’s not laughing now.

Once the table knows who it is:

Princess Reeny. Queen of Highpoint. Defender of Hightaeria.

She looks up. From the forge level, ten stories below, she looks directly at you. And you see it — just for a heartbeat — something human. Recognition. Memory. The girl who followed Lyra through the Thieves Guild drop zone. The queen who got drunk with adventurers.

Then it’s gone. Her eyes are cold. She turns to face the forge. She walks toward Durrak.

Pause. Then the Pit Fiend.

Behind her, something else comes through the infernal gate. Something enormous. It has to duck to fit through the portal, and when it stands, it fills the cavern.

Wings of dark fire. A body of scarred, burning muscle. Twelve feet of devil. A mace in one hand that trails flame like a comet’s tail. It unfurls its wings — the span blots out the lava light for a heartbeat — and takes position on the descent path.

Between you and the forge. Between you and Durrak. Between you and Reeny.

A Pit Fiend. A general of the Nine Hells. Bane’s contribution to Vecna’s war.

Let the table absorb this. Then the cliffhanger.

CLIFFHANGER — The View Below (End of Session)

Trigger: After the Harbinger arrives. The party reaches a lower lookout around level 5-6.

The heat is a wall now. The forge is close. Close enough to see the rivets in the black iron. Close enough to see the lava channels — bright orange arteries feeding the heart of the mountain.

Durrak Stoneforge. Not a distant shape anymore. A person. Grey skin stretched over hard muscle. Gaunt. Burned hands. His tools lie beside him, untouched. He hasn’t been forging. He’s been refusing. Even in chains. Even here. He won’t make what they want.

He looks up. He sees you. For a moment, something crosses his face. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

The ancient white dragon beside him raises its ruined head. Its scales are grey with ash. The chains go through its wings, through its flanks, through the meat of it. It scoops lava because that’s all it knows how to do anymore. It sees you too. It doesn’t react. It has forgotten what hope looks like.

Between you and the forge: four more levels of spiralling path. Movement on every one. Possessed giants. Intellect devourers scuttling along the walls. Something on level 3 that is too big and too wrong to be a giant anymore.

And at the forge itself: her. Your friend. Walking toward Durrak with the certainty of someone who serves a god. The Pit Fiend behind her, wings spread, blocking the final descent like a burning gate.

Above you: the Grand Portal. Allabar. The chains. The eye.

Below you: the forge. The smith. The dragon. The friend who isn’t your friend anymore. And the devil guarding the way down.

Behind you: nothing. The upper levels are rubble and flesh and falling sky.

There is only forward. There is only down.

End session.

DM DELIVERY NOTES

Pacing: The first half of the session should feel like descent into dread. Slow. Creeping. Don’t rush to combat. The second half accelerates — once combat starts, the catalysts layer on top of each other.
Vecna’s voice: Never shout. Never threaten. Vecna is patient certainty. He whispers. He knows. The scariest thing about him is that he isn’t worried.
The Grand Portal: This is the visual anchor for the rest of the arc. Every session from now on, that portal is open. They can always see it. Vecna can always see them.
Lux’s moments: Speak to Lux’s player directly. Lean in. Lower your voice. Make it intimate. The rest of the table should be watching Lux’s face when Vecna speaks to him.
The dragon: It is broken and pathetic. Play it that way. This was once a terror of the world. Now it scoops lava. The horror is in the reduction, not the monster.
Reeny’s arrival: This is the EMOTIONAL climax of the session — even more than the Grand Portal. The Grand Portal is spectacle. Reeny is personal. Let Lyra’s player drive the reaction. Don’t over-explain. “Lyra, you recognise her” is all you need to say — the player will do the rest.
The Pit Fiend: Describe it as a PRESENCE, not a stat block. Wings of dark fire. Twelve feet tall. A general of hell. The table should feel dread, not excitement for a fight. The fight is next session.
The double reveal: Grand Portal (cosmic horror) → Reeny (personal horror). Don’t stack them on top of each other. Give the Grand Portal its moment. Let the table react. THEN hit them with Reeny. Two punches, not one.