My regular Dungeons & Dragons group is playing through Tomb of Annihilation, and I am very excited to be doing so. For this campaign, I am playing a Fallen Aasimar Cleric of the Grave Domain named Wyfingrem. Her family is renowned among her people as Resurrectionists. With the world stricken by a Death Curse that has prevented resurrection, Wyfingrem and an odd assortment of adventurers have answered the call from a mysterious benefactor to find the root cause of the curse and destroy it. Each day, Wyfingrem journals her experiences as a way to feel close to people, especially those dearest to her heart.

Day 56

My dearest love,

I woke physically rested and with my many wounds adequately restored, but unfortunately, my mind is unwell. My dreams were ravaged by horrible visions that seemed all too real.

I am in a city, and it is burning. Everywhere flames hungrily consume structures, choking the air with black smoke that sears my lungs and eyes. And then I see it.

Acererak, that abomination most sacrilegious, floating about the carnage. In and out of buildings he floats dispassionately spreading destruction and death. Every home or shop he enters immediately fills with screams of terror until they are horrifically silenced.

It is then that I feel something, and I notice your hand is within mine! Rather than relief or joy, I am filled with dread as I know this place is not safe for you. At that moment, the monster known as Acererak reappears from a nearby home and takes note of us. I try to call out to our Gods for help. I try to run. I try to cry out, but I am paralyzed. Whether I am ensorcelled by this foul creature or a prisoner to my fear, I cannot determine.

He turns his lifeless eyes upon us at that moment though, and I know we are doomed. With all the casualness of someone on a morning stroll, the lich floats over to us. He looks at me – through me – and I feel him measuring my soul. My insides wither under his awful gaze, and I begin sobbing uncontrollably despite still being frozen with terror.

Without averting his black gaze, he reaches out and takes your hand from mine, and then without a word he turns and leads you away. It is then that I know I am worthless. Pathetic. Unfit to bear the blessing of my Gods and, rightfully so, should be cast out of their favor, our faith, and our family.

I awoke drenched in sweat, panic coursing through me. Had I not been in such close quarters and surrounded by my friends, surely I would have raced from this place and into certain oblivion. Mercifully I was able to collect myself enough to pray long and deeply on this vision.

Pray for clarity.

Pray for answers.

Pray for mercy.

Shortly after we emerged from Walter’s magical shelter one of the strange skeleton creatures with a head formed into a shape, this one a hexagon, wandered into the room. We dispatched of it quickly and collected the key.

Now with clearer heads, we resumed investigating the gargoyle statues surrounding the pit in the center of the room. With no clear answers, we take the presumptive intended action and insert coins into the respective slots on each metallic base.

Alas, the statues are yet another trap in this accursed place! The gargoyles sprang to life and immediately fell upon us with malicious designs. Immediately, I called upon our Gods to channel their powerful blessings through me, filling the room with the sun's radiant light. While the animations did appear to sustain damage, it did not have the devastating effect I had hoped.

The battle continued to be one of desperation and loss. Seeing my spell have little effect, I tried to run but was struck down from behind, which required me to channel not a little healing power from the Gods of Life and Death.

Another gargoyle lashed out at Sir McManly with its considerable strength, but our Gods sought to protect him through me, significantly reducing the damage dealt but not completely nullifying it, unfortunately.

Two of the constructs collide in the chaos and become entangled as they grasp hungrily for me. And then Toni was there with her inexplicable mental abilities, dazing all four and dropping them prone.

She and I attempt to escape while the drow and Walter permanently put down one of the monsters under a deluge of physical blows and magic. No sooner did I consider myself free and safe enough to pour more prayers of healing into my body when one of the beasts appeared, raking my body so appreciably that it nullified all the wounds I had just mended.

Once again, McManly was at my side, not just shielding me from further harm but also bestowing upon me some of his own healing magic. With another salvo of mental energy from my acolyte, the animated statue is blown clear of the corridor.

I am afraid that much of what occurred from there is rather a blur. I recall one creature thrashing wildly at seemingly nothing but then hearing Walter cry out in agony. Wily Zilditch was working his new magical spear with devastating effect at one point. And then the last thing I remember is in a moment of desperation unleashing a gigantic bolt of energy into one of the gargoyles and then lunging for Walter to bestow healing upon him. Then everything went black, and when I awoke, we had won the day.

The toll of the battle was substantial, I fear. Despite the prayers and spells of mending shared among our party, I know I am not quite myself. I don’t feel whole, as if my body could drop into a deep sleep even now despite just enjoying a considerable rest. I fear if I were to fall again, I might not possess the strength to rise again, no matter the will of the Gods of Life and Death.

While we collectively recover, Zilditch investigated the pit. He noted some sickly plants and a slick, slimy substance on its walls but nothing of immediate concern. We agreed to lower him down the shaft using a rope. At the bottom, he discovered a pair of exits and a tall, rusty sprinkler that seemed to be the source of the metallic noises we had heard.

Venturing down one of the tunnels leading from the pit, among his reported findings was some artwork featuring five black dragons. We are puzzling about that.

While Zilditch was beneath us looking about, Al’Variean headed up the stairs from our current room and disappeared around the corner and down the corridor. He has discovered a door at the end of the hall, and bronze statues of serpents on either side of the hallway.

We decided to take a closer look at Al’Variean’s findings. On the lintel of the doorway, we find a riddle:

Warm like flame

Cold for the cruel

Still for the dead

Gruel for the ghoul

The statues themselves are rather unsettling, smelling of rot and decay. We also find inside their mouths tubes that extend into the walls. Does triggering some sort of trap cause them to spit an acid or toxin? Or must we pour something down the tubes to open the door?

While we are pondering the significance of the statues, Sir McManly solves the riddle above the door. It is a heart! This is helpful, but we still need to decipher what it is about a heart we need to do.

Ultimately, we decide to set this puzzle aside and check out a corridor branching off this one. At its end sits a trunk. We’ve been in this treacherous dungeon long enough to know there must be something amiss, and likely deadly, about this trunk.

We sent a magical summoned hand to prod the trunk, but it told us little, so Zilditch and Walter took turns inspecting it up close and even striking it. Finding no answers, Toni spoke arcane words and the trunk clicked open. And indeed, it was a trap!

A boulder dropped from the ceiling at the mouth of the corridor and began rolling toward Walter. Thank the Gods of Life and Death that we all were keeping our distance, so none of us were in danger of being crushed. Walter, however, had to vault over the chest and run into the room at the opposite end of the corridor.

To our horror, we see Walter drop out of sight upon entering the room, and the rolling boulder does the same. We raced after him, praying we did not find him crushed, and magnificent be the blessings of the Gods, we found the floor at the room’s entrance had given way to a bubbling acid pit, but Walter had deftly avoided it.

After gathering ourselves, we look about and determine this room is yet another tomb in this macabre pit of hell.

Across the room sits an opaque sarcophagus that continually changes colors. Beyond it is a raised platform with staircases at either end. On the wall up on the platform appears to be a mural of a gigantic maze. The walls on either side of the room are covered with pictures of minotaurs.

Zilditch was first to enter the room, skillfully climbing along the walls while probing the ground for any more acid pits or other traps. Assuming the room to be safe, Walter went to inspect the maze mural while Zilditch took a closer look at the sarcophagus. He found it locked, but the keyhole did not go all the way through, as if it were merely superficial.

Emboldened, Walter touched the maze and instantly disappeared into it! Before we can take the time to figure out how to rescue him, however, we hear multiple doors sliding open. From all around the room, skeletal minotaurs spill from hidden rooms.

Toni grants Sir McManly the ability to fly about the room in order to attack the foul creations from the air, but I remember my bond with the spirit of Nang Nang and decide to test it out. As I charge into the room, amazingly I find I am able to run along the walls and hang from the ceiling with no more effort than running on land.

I gather the power of the Gods of Life and Death within me and then unleash it with unbridled prejudice upon the undead abominations. Our Gods’ power crashes against them like a wave, causing six of the seven to cower in fear of my will and their might! In this moment I know the power of our Gods is without equal, but my adulation is short-lived as the one unaffected hurled his hefty ax, clipping me.

With the fury of our Gods blazing in my very blood and soul, I summon the spirits of the righteously judged to surround and protect me. Instantly they begin to hack away at the skeletal monsters. We found these to be no mere skeletons, however. One of them manages to charge through the warrior spirits, and gore me with its horns. Next thing I was tumbling through the air and toward the acid pit. The Gods would not abandon me this day, however. And with an assist from Nang Nang, I managed to grab onto the boulder that had fallen from the ceiling and into the pit, sparing my life.

Like the very Gods themselves, Sir McManly is there. He flies to my aid, plucking me from the threat of a death most painful and dropping me safely in the corridor before himself accepting the brunt of another thrown ax meant for me.

The minotaur then focused their fury upon Sir McManly, clawing at him and hurling their axes. I call forth radiant energies and disintegrate one minotaur, sending it to where it rightfully belongs under the judging eyes of our Gods. From there the tide quickly turned, and we managed to easily defeat the rest using ranged weapons and spells.

No sooner does our battle end that Walter suddenly shoots out of the maze mural. He is badly beaten and near death but also clutching a red key. After healing him, we take the key to the sarcophagus and, waiting until it cycled through to the color red, insert the key and find we are able to open it.

Inside we find a multicolored robe and the shell of a snail. Walter dons the robe, but it doesn’t appear to do anything. We decide we must spend some time figuring out its purpose it seems, but then on a whim, Al’Variean tries on the robe and finds himself bonded with the Unkh the Snail, another of the island gods.

I am writing to you now while the party gathers itself to determine next steps, and it appears we are ready to venture forth, so I fear I must go. Please do not fret. The Gods know my dedication is unending for them; thus, I know they shall protect me evermore.

I miss you terribly, my love, but I know I am a day closer to embracing you tightly in my arms. I believe it with all my heart!

All my love…