From Goats to Grimdark: Our First Steps in 40k

 

Grimdark Shenanigans: Our First Foray into Warhammer 40k

As the saying goes, "All good things must come to an end," so we bid farewell to our Enshrouded game (except for Dave, who’s contractually obligated to milk the goats daily) and took a warp jump into the far-flung, grimdark universe of Warhammer 40k. It’s a place where there is only war, and conveniently, also suitable character classes for all of us.

Meet the Misfit Mercenaries:

• Dave: A "Sister of Battle" soldier. Yes, he chose to roleplay as a pious, armor-clad nun with a gun. As Dave put it, "Who doesn’t want to be a self-righteous zealot?"
• Zaph: The operative, a stealthy sniper who’s only in the room for cleanup. His strategy: "Shoot, scoot, and pretend you’re invisible."
• Myles: Naturally, the officer. This suits his love for giving orders, though our compliance is… inconsistent. "When will you lot learn that my plans are flawless?"
• Craig: The warrior, or as we call him, "Straight-Line Craig." If there were a class that didn’t require reading text or thinking about geometry, he’d have taken it.
• Two NPCs: A Psyker (a.k.a. witch) who can throw lightning, rupture the warp, and kill us all—and a second warrior to set a behavioral example for Craig. Spoiler: It didn’t work.

And So It Begins

We started aboard the voidship of Rogue Trader Theodora von Valancius. Myles’s character is distantly related to the von Valancius Dynasty, which made the rest of us his "trusty sidekicks," plus Craig. (To clarify, Craig is his own category.)

Theodora’s opening act? Summoning us for a test to prove our worth. Before we could bungle that, the peons on the lower decks staged a mutiny, the servitors went berserk, and chaos erupted. Typical Tuesday.

Betrayal and a Smidge of Flamethrower Justice

On orders to check on the navigator, we followed the ship’s Master of Whispers—a shifty sort who promptly stabbed us in the back, literally. He knocked us unconscious and dragged Myles off to the chamber of the Writ of Trade (the holy McGuffin of Rogue Traders). Myles, true to form, woke up mid-abduction, dubbed him "Skanky Pond Scum," and refused to cooperate. Luckily, the servitor lock mechanism recognized that Myles was being threatened. Cue flamethrowers and turrets annihilating the heretics… except the Master of Whispers, who legged it.

Assemble the Dysfunctional Avengers

With Myles rescued, our merry band regrouped and gained some reinforcements. Enter the Psyker and Craig’s new favorite toy—a chainsword. We slaughtered our way toward the navigator, who was hiding behind an energy shield. Surprise, the twisty Master of Whispers escaped again while we looted bodies and Dave performed a heroic solo act that left the rest of us scrambling to catch up. (Dave, the Emperor protects; but maybe wait for backup next time.)

Bridge Over Troubled Fire

At one point, we faced an infernal bridge through flames where our choice was "make a deal with the devil" or "burn." Myles opted for dogmatic zealotry, yelled, "The Emperor protects!" and dragged us all through the fire. We emerged singed but alive, while our NPC entourage became crispy critters. Rest in ashes, redshirts.

Detective Work (But Not Too Much)

After endless firefights and more straight-line Craig charges that hit precisely nothing, we found Theodora. Alas, she was dead, riddled with bolter fire. We poked around for clues but not too hard—our priorities were now firmly aligned with ascending to the Rogue Tradership. The Psyker failed to psychically read a corpse but did manage to get visions from some broken glass. Useless. We found a cryptic document detailing Theodora’s mission to an unknown destination. Cue ominous foreshadowing.

Climax of Chaos (and Craig)

The grand finale occurred on the bridge. The Whisperer was mid-ritual, sacrificing henchmen to summon a Chaos demon. Myles immediately declared we’d fight to the death, but Englebert Humpledink (a rival Psyker) decided to "help." Naturally, this resulted in him transforming into a Chaos demon. Because of course it did.

The fight was epic and chaotic:

• Myles gave commands, most of which we ignored.
• Dave went full Rambo, slaying three henchmen in quick succession.
• Craig charged straight into… thin air, missing spectacularly. Again, warp logic or Craig logic?
• Zaph and the Psyker took down the demon’s defenses.

After much bleeding and screaming, the demon chowed down on a henchman to regenerate. Myles, perched on the upper platform, assessed the dire situation below. The demon was regaining strength rapidly, feeding off the remaining henchman, and Craig’s last charge had connected with precisely nothing—again. Realizing the window to act was shrinking, Myles maneuvered to the edge of the platform, took careful aim, and fired, taking out the final henchman just before the demon could feast.

"All clear! Craig, distract the demon.," he quipped with a self-satisfied grin, lowering his weapon. Below, Craig grumbled audibly but reluctantly shifted focus to the Chaos demon, muttering, "Distract it? I’m not a chew toy!." The rest of us wisely opted to keep our distance, offering support from as far away as possible.

Finally, we took down Demon Englebert. Myles plopped himself on the Rogue Trader throne, ordered us to "get this ship back to reality," and declared victory.

Post-Battle Wrap-Up: A Litany of Woes

As the session ended, we received grim reports about the state of the ship:

• The navigator needs replacing. Apparently, they don’t grow on trees.
• The engineer is dead.
• The tech crew is dead.
• Craig remains alive.

Myles, as the new Rogue Trader, endured a 15-minute debrief that involved more talking than shooting. It was well past midnight, and no one could feel their legs. But hey, the prologue was complete, and victory… sort of… was ours.

Closing Thoughts

If this is the prologue, we’re doomed. But at least we’ll die heroically—or in Craig’s case, hilariously—in the grimdark future where there is only war. See you next session, warp willing.

A Cautionary Tale of Patience, Puzzles, and Pathfinding

Where’s Dave? A Cautionary Tale of Patience, Puzzles, and Pathfinding

It began, as these things so often do, with a sunken stone temple complex rising from the mists of the valley. Equal parts Montezuma and Petra, it was the sort of place designed to bring adventurers to their knees in reverent awe or simply trip over themselves trying to interpret obtuse hieroglyphic warnings about imminent doom. Naturally, we blundered in like caffeinated raccoons at a campsite.

Getting to the temple complex was no small feat. It lay hidden in the fog-of-war, its location hinted at only by vague map markings and an overwhelming sense of "we're probably going the wrong way." We began our journey by gliding from a high tower, landing in an unknown expanse, and then hoofing it on foot through treacherous terrain. It was somewhere along this arduous trek that Dave, true to form, decided to split from the group.

Dave’s Solo Adventure

Dave’s plan, if one could call it that, was to take a bold detour through the Shroud, a dangerous, fog-enshrouded valley to the north. His reasoning? Something about efficiency, exploration, and possibly finding better loot. On paper, it sounded daring and innovative. In practice, it was akin to navigating the London Underground with only a Ouija board and a vague sense of foreboding.

For those unfamiliar with the Shroud, imagine a landscape where teleportation is disabled and every hostile creature in existence has unionized against solo adventurers. When Dave inevitably succumbed to overwhelming odds and died, his respawn point was, of course, back at the start of the valley—still firmly in the Shroud. Without a teleport-to-safety option, Dave had no choice but to try again. And again. And, well, again.

Meanwhile, Back at the Temples

While Dave was busy reliving his personal Groundhog Day, Zaph, Craig, and I had a delightfully productive time solving the three temples. Zaph handled the precision challenges with his ranger-sniper finesse, Craig solved jumping puzzles by doing what can only be described as chaotic parkour, and I, as always, carefully mapped the place while trying not to trip over my own good intentions.

Dave's Grand Arrival

Hours later (in both game time and actual human lifespans), Dave clawed his way to the gateway and activated the shrine, moving his respawn point to the temple complex at last. The man was battle-worn, grouchy, and “humming with the quiet fury of someone who’d just lost their entire inventory at least twice,” as Craig put it.

“What took you so long?” Zaph quipped as Dave finally emerged. This earned a glare sharp enough to shave with.

After a quick orientation session (read: Zaph and I patiently explaining puzzles), we moved on to the final temple. Surely now we could triumph as a team.

The Chest Incident

The final chamber loomed before us. Inside was the grand chest, a prize promised by all the architectural grandeur and puzzle-solving torment of the last few hours. We approached, eager to revel in the treasure and victory.

Zaph, ever the optimist, reached for the chest first. He opened it and froze. “What… why is the chest open and empty?”

“I haven’t stepped foot in here,” I said, immediately sensing trouble. Slowly, we all turned to Craig.

“What?” Craig said innocently, wearing an expression that could only be described as suspiciously angelic.

“Craig,” Zaph growled, pointing at the now-empty chest.

Craig shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “Okay, fine. I couldn’t wait.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Not the kind of silence born of awe, but the kind that screamed, “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

Wrapping Up

With the final chest prematurely looted, there wasn’t much else to do but leave. “Well, I’m glad you finally made it here, Dave,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “But it’s time to go.”

“What do you mean, time to go?” Dave asked, incredulous.

“It’s done,” Zaph said, shooting Craig another withering look.

Craig, naturally, was already halfway up the nearest wall, scouting for more chaos to cause. As we exited the temple complex, leaving behind a trail of solved puzzles, looted chests, and frayed nerves, one thing was clear: the greatest treasure wasn’t the loot. It was the friends we made along the way—and the remarkably creative insults we’d now have for Craig for the next several decades.

Adventures in Futility: The One-Eyed Menace

This week’s mission, should we have chosen to accept it—which we did because apparently, we have the collective survival instincts of lemmings—was to track down Old One-Eye in his lair, kill him, and decorate our flame altar with his skull. Why we want his skull remains unclear, but as Dave pointed out, “More skulls = more power,” and who can argue with that? Certainly not us, the group that once spent three hours debating whether to turn left or right in a dungeon because Craig thought the shadows on the left looked suspicious.

The Prelude to Disaster

Like any Dave plan, it literally went wrong before he had finished talking. “Right, guys, we are after Old One-Eye. Once we mount his head on the wall, we can upgrade our flame altar, making us even more awesome,” he announced.

“Cool, where does Old One-Eye live?” Myles asked.

“You unlocked his location from the notes you found in the stable last time,” Dave replied. “Everyone open your maps and lock in the location.”

After consulting our quest journal, we confirmed our task: track down the fugly Cyclops and end his existence. The journal even helpfully marked his location—on the opposite side of the map from where we’d planned to explore. So off we went into the freezing north, with Craig as usual forgetting to bring any food.

We scrambled up and down mountains, fell off cliffs, and found everything except the location we were looking for. Myles and Dave repeatedly demonstrated their lack of skill at the double grapple-jump, while Zaph and Craig excelled at finding alternate ways to make things worse.

Spiders swarmed over Zaph like he was a human candy while ignoring Dave’s ranger “friendship” abilities. Eventually, after a series of wrong turns and several respawns, Dave gave up and jumped off a cliff into the Shroud.

“OMG, it’s here!” he shouted.

“Where?” we all asked, squinting at our maps.

“There’s a humongous road leading into a giant opening in the cliff! This has to be it!” Dave yelled.

Myles and Craig spiraled down to join Dave on the road. Craig promptly fell into a hole, while Zaph flew overhead, pivoted, and zipped off into the opening, leaving Dave and Myles to fight their way in on foot. Craig rejoined them just in time to "assist" by smashing random objects and aggravating local wildlife. Meanwhile, Zaph discovered updrafts, lava, and yet another fight deep in the cavern.

Chaos in the Cyclops’s Lair

Standing on beams above a river of lava, we spotted a Shroud Mushroom.

“That must be it!” Myles shouted, leaping off the beam to glide toward it. He caught an updraft, smashed into a rock face, and plummeted into the lava to die.

“Again, again! Do it again!” Craig exclaimed gleefully.

Zaph and Dave, as usual, headed off in opposite directions but ended up at the same place. A minor fight ensued, during which Craig definitely did not save us, and we destroyed the mushroom—only to discover another one.

“That’s new,” someone muttered.

“What’s the plan?” Myles asked.

“Smash it,” Craig said, doing his best Hulk impression. The second mushroom was promptly dispatched.

“Where’s Old One-Eye?” Myles asked. “We haven’t seen him yet.”

“Maybe he’s up on that cliff by the third mushroom,” Zaph suggested.

Three Shroud Mushrooms later, Dave’s “plans” were still failing to impress. Grappling up to a ledge, Dave rushed forward and smashed the mushroom. Old One-Eye responded by smashing Myles and Zaph, while Craig looted a chest in the corner. Dave tried to revive Myles but misjudged a jump and fell to his death.

This left Craig to shine. With three of us providing directions, Craig got hopelessly confused, flew off in the wrong direction, killed a bug, and then got flattened by the Cyclops. Respawn it was.

A (Sort of) Plan Emerges

After much finger-pointing, we decided to spread out and attack Old One-Eye from different directions while Myles threw skulls at him to distract him. A flurry of fireballs, arrows, and skull shots later, the Cyclops was down.

Craig claimed he had connectivity issues and that’s why he didn’t tank for us. No one believed him, but who cared? We had the head, slapped it on the wall of Spider House, and upgraded our flame altar.

Dave celebrated by doing chores—collecting eggs, milking goats, and feeding farm animals—while the rest of us tried to decipher his chaotic storage system. Myles and Zaph attempted to put things in the right boxes, while Craig just dumped his gear into the nearest crate.

Onward to the Halls of the Dead

With half the session spent on those shenanigans, we decided to hit the Nomad Hollow Halls. Dave retrieved the key from his secret stash, and off we went. A quick glide from the fast travel tower and a short jog brought us to the doors.

The first room was a breeze. Level 20 skeletons, skeletal dogs, and summoners were no match for our level 26 skills and level 30 weapons. Feeling overconfident, we mined glowing crystals for skull-summoning devices while taunting each other about how easy the dungeon was.

Then came the puzzles. The triple grapple jumps proved impossible for Myles and Dave, who took the lava-hopping ground path instead. Zaph and Craig, who actually know how to follow directions, disappeared into the distance.

Finally, we reached a teleportation puzzle that required jumping through runes to unlock a door. Side areas filled with traps and skeletons yielded skeletal Cyclopses, which unlocked the runes. With the final room cleared, we grabbed our loot and returned to the Collector. His reward? Glowing soup. Because nothing screams victory like bioluminescent broth. Dave, of course, refused to even try the glowing soup (he doesn't like pumpkins). We also found a bunch of crystal clusters that Dave promptly repurposed into a key for the Kindle Wastes Hollow Halls dungeon.

That, however, is a tale for another knight (ie, not Craig).

Until next week, when we’ll inevitably find new and exciting ways to fail spectacularly. Cheers to teamwork, skulls, and the eternal respawn!

Epic grapple fail

Getting over your skis in the Halls of the Dead

Flight of the Zaph - he went too deep, and woke the Balrog.

Shroom for Error: The Night We Fought Lava and Lost

Ah yes, nothing screams “welcome back” quite like a fungal apocalypse and repeated fiery deaths. After a brief hiatus, the gang reassembled for what can only be described as a triumphant return. Well, it would have been triumphant if triumph involved more competence and less respawning.

The Great Mushroom Caper

Our grand mission? Destroy half a dozen Shroud-Mushrooms scattered across the map like someone’s poorly executed fetch quest. You’d think smashing fungi would be easy, but you’d be wrong. These weren’t your garden-variety mushrooms. Oh no. These were flaming, lava-adjacent, rage-inducing mushrooms of doom, and they came with the added bonus of requiring everyone to gather in a tight little circle before taking them down, just to get that sweet, sweet Skill Point reward. It’s like the developers knew exactly how to exploit our inability to stay together for longer than 15 seconds.

The first couple of mushrooms were in low-level areas, which we obliterated with a sense of smug satisfaction usually reserved for villains in bad action movies.

Of course, in hindsight, starting in a noob area was the gaming equivalent of stretching before a marathon: it lulls you into a false sense of competence right before the chaos begins.

Beef Stew, Strawberry Milkshakes, and Myles’ Eternal Questions

Before we dive back into the mushroom madness and tragic map-related escapades, let’s pause to appreciate the fuel that sustained us: beef stew, strawberry milkshakes, and a never-ending interrogation from yours truly about what to do with the game’s loot.

Now, in my defense, the inventory system is needlessly complicated. Who needs three different chests for metal, one for gems, and an entirely separate one for "miscellaneous shinies" - which is of course full? But, apparently, the rest of you have adapted to this madness, as evidenced by the chorus of groans every time I asked, “What box does the meat go in?”

Dave, ever the font of patience (except when Craig is digging), responded with his usual authority: “The food box, Myles. In the Great Hall.”
“Okay, but where do I put silver?” I pressed.
“NOT IN THE FOOD BOX!” came the unanimous reply.

And so the evening progressed:
“Is there a box for obsidian?”
“Does anyone want to wear the funny hat I found?”
“Wait, where do I put this sack of turnips?”

Some might say this was my way of taking a break between mushrooms, but I prefer to think of it as contributing to the group’s inventory management. After all, someone needs to ask these questions—preferably loudly and while others are trying to concentrate.

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Zaph vs. Gravity

The highlight of the evening came courtesy of Zaph’s patented “shrine well high-dive maneuver.” For those uninitiated in Zaph’s aerial escapades, let me explain: instead of taking the boring spiral stairs down to the shrine wells like a normal, gravity-fearing person, Zaph insists on diving directly into the well from dizzying heights. If timed correctly, it’s a breathtaking shortcut that screams, “I am the master of this domain!”

If timed poorly, however, it screams, “SPLAT.” Craig not wanting to be out done - try to follow.

As we gathered around Craig’s prone, slightly pancake-shaped form at the bottom of the well, Dave helpfully remarked, “At least he’s consistent.”

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Lava, Lava Everywhere

As the mushroom levels increased, so did the complications. By the time we hit areas with high-20s and low-30s mobs, it became clear that our ragtag bunch of mid-20s misfits might be punching slightly above their weight class. “It’s fine,” Dave declared, ever the optimist. “We’ll just use strategy.” (He'd never actually say that - might think it, but is generally too busy eye-ing the treasure chest in the distance).

But no amount of strategy can save you from lava. Turns out some of these shrine wells were, shall we say, volcanically active. You’d think we’d learn after the first time someone accidentally took a lava bath and lost 10 minutes of precious Shroud time, but no. Craig promptly made it his mission to “test the lava’s properties,” which mostly involved jumping into it repeatedly while cackling like a maniac.

“Stop doing science!” I shouted as Craig flung himself into yet another molten abyss. “This isn’t a controlled experiment!”

Dave, ever the noble (if increasingly exasperated) leader, tried to rally us back into focus: “We need to take this seriously! Everyone group up for the next mushroom, or none of us get the reward!” 

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Close Proximity Chaos

The “everyone in close proximity” rule proved to be our true undoing. Herding our group into the same small area is about as easy as wrangling feral cats during a thunderstorm. By the time we’d finally gathered near the next mushroom, someone (usually Craig) would wander off or poke a nearby enemy, triggering yet another fight.

And then there was the respawning. Oh, the respawning. Between the shroud monsters and the lava, it became a revolving door of death. Respawn, run back, get annihilated again. At one point, I looked at the clock and realized I’d spent more time staring at the loading screen than actually fighting.

The Three Mouseketeers and the Stairway to Heaven

Ah, Paris! The city of love, art, and people charging you €6 for a croissant. While I was busy trying to convince French waiters that, yes, I did mean to order snails and not just make a terrible mistake, the rest of you were busy constructing some sort of architectural abomination on a snowy mountaintop. This blog could really just be titled “What Did Craig Build This Week?” but that wouldn’t do justice to Dave and Zaph’s contributions to the chaos—nor, I suppose, to Craig’s… unique flair.

So, what did I miss while dining on overpriced baguettes and debating the merits of tiny coffees? Let’s recap:

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1. Snowball Fiasco: Artistry Eludes the Mouseketeers

The journey began with the three of you scaling the mountains behind Spider House. Because what better way to spend a perfectly good gaming session than climbing through ice, digging through snow, and pretending this would somehow lead to something useful? Spoiler: it didn’t.

Dave, Zaph, and Craig learned how to make snowballs. Or rather, they learned how to make snowballs but couldn’t actually make any. I’m unclear on whether this was due to in-game physics, a lack of coordination, or the cruel whims of an uncaring digital universe, but I’m relieved to know you spent valuable time struggling with this. Truly, the snowball revolution of 2024 is right around the corner.

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2. Craig Builds the Stairway to Heaven (and Beyond)

Next came the construction project that no one asked for, but everyone should have seen coming. Craig, unsatisfied with mere mountaintop glory, decided to build his very own Stairway to Heaven. Using red marble (of course it was red marble) and glow strips, he added a launching pad that was less “practical gliding platform” and more “luxury ski resort.” This masterpiece included a bonfire, a bed, and even a chair to sit in while contemplating how much higher he could build.

To Craig’s credit, this setup did provide some functionality. The three of you launched yourselves into the air to see how far you could glide, which led to the inevitable:

• Zaph made it all the way to a distant fast travel tower, because Zaph always lands his glider like he’s filming a commercial for “Precision Adventurers, Inc.”
• Dave, being Dave, ran out of stamina 100 meters short and plummeted to his death in what I can only assume was a perfect swan dive into tragedy.
• Craig, presumably, just stayed behind to add decorative lighting to the platform or carve his initials into the snow.

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3. Exploring Crypts, Reuniting Families, and Shroud Mushrooms (Again)

Once Dave was dusted off and resurrected (again), the group decided to set their sights on loftier goals: mapping unexplored terrain and discovering new wonders. This went surprisingly well—at least until it didn’t.

• You uncovered five new shroud mushrooms. Five. I’m not even there, and I can feel the irritation already. Why do we always find these things when I’m not around? Don’t think I didn’t notice the ominous “needed to be disposed of when Myles got back” note. Translation: Myles, come deal with this while we do something less painful.

• You explored a crypt and a tomb, which I’m sure involved the usual amount of torch-lit bickering and Craig trying to loot the skeletons for “vintage boots.” You also reunited the smith with his daughter, which—shockingly—sounded like a genuinely heartwarming moment. Don’t worry, I’ll assume Craig tried to charge them both rent on the reunion location.

• You discovered a burial site deep in the shroud but wisely decided to wait for me and my floating skulls before proceeding. Smart choice. Without my skull minions, you’re basically a herd of mildly capable mountain goats with a flair for catastrophe.

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4. Zaph’s Gravity Experiment

At some point, Zaph decided to test his skill in bow-shooting while floating. Note that I said “test” his skill, not use his skill—because, as it turns out, Zaph hadn’t actually learned how to float-shoot yet. This epiphany occurred mid-plummet as Zaph’s pixelated body hurtled toward the ground like a majestic but very confused anvil.

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5. Dave’s Dastardly Plan: Operation OHS Sabotage

While all this was going on, Dave was quietly orchestrating a long game. In what I can only assume was a fit of snow-fueled mischief, Dave distracted Craig with the Stairway to Heaven project just long enough to bury the entrance to Craig’s Deathtrap. (For the uninitiated, “Craig’s Deathtrap” is a legendary hole in the ground that violates every conceivable occupational health and safety standard.)

Now, I know what you’re thinking: Shouldn’t Craig have noticed? But let’s be honest, Craig was busy installing a bonfire and debating whether he needed glow-in-the-dark bunting for his launchpad. Well played, Dave. Well played.

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6. Central Air-Con: The Snow Must Flow

And then, in the spirit of truly baffling priorities, Dave decided to air-condition Spider House. He filled the place with snow—because nothing says “homey adventurer’s retreat” like subzero temperatures in the living room. Even the animal pens weren’t spared. Somewhere, I’m sure the goats were bleating, “Why are we still here? Just to suffer?”

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7. Chores: Because Even Heroes Need Bacon

The evening wrapped up with a round of chores: harvesting crops, slaughtering goats, and wistfully dreaming about bacon. Apparently, taming pigs for a proper breakfast has now become a group goal. Because nothing screams “mighty adventurers” like the phrase, “We really need pigs for bacon.”

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8. Craig Saves Everyone… Allegedly

Finally, there’s the obligatory “Craig saved us all” claim. Craig, of course, will insist he came to the group’s rescue in some unspecified and heroic way. Zaph and Dave, on the other hand, vehemently deny this ever happened. I wasn’t there, so I’ll leave it to history to decide. But let’s be real: if Craig saved the day, he probably also ruined it five minutes later by digging into the air-con snow and falling in a hole.

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Final Thoughts

While I’ve been soaking up Parisian culture, you’ve been scaling mountains, dying gloriously, and building the most impractical launchpad in gaming history. Honestly, I’m impressed. And mildly horrified. But mostly impressed.

P.S. I’ll deal with the shroud mushrooms when I’m back, but I’m not happy about it.

Yours in baguettes and bafflement,
Myles

Fizzy Goats and Flamethrowers: The Seville Saga

 

Ah, Seville. Land of flamenco, tapas, and the ominous void in my chair at the gaming table. While I was off basking in the Spanish sun, sipping sangria, and pretending I could tell the difference between authentic Iberian ham and the stuff we get in shrink-wrap, the rest of you lot were gallivanting around in an icy wasteland, dying, looting, and making questionable decisions. I feel like I’ve missed something important—though based on Craig’s “miracle-followed-by-falling-in-a-hole” routine, I’m also fairly certain I haven’t.

Let’s unpack this, shall we?

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1. Marauders, But Make Them Flaming

It all started with the noble quest to recover a blast furnace—because, naturally, what we really needed wasn’t more practical weapons or survival gear, but the ability to produce artisanal steel pickaxes and luxury armor. You know, priorities.

Apparently, the Marauders (formerly "those guys with the dual poison swords who killed us repeatedly") had upgraded to flamethrowers. Logical escalation, I suppose. What I’m struggling with is why we don’t have flamethrowers. As Craig would say, “We can craft furniture, enchant weapons, and farm goats, but pyrotechnics are where we draw the line?”

Of course, Dave glided past the Marauders like some sort of underdressed snow angel, leaving Zaph and Craig to "die several times" (your words, not mine). This may sound frustrating, but let’s not forget: Dave has the attention span of a caffeinated ferret, and if there's a shiny thing somewhere in the distance, he's going for it. He probably found something “rare” like frost-covered onions while you were all being flambéed.

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2. Death Shroud and Lemming Behavior

Then there was the part where you tried to bypass a lethal "death shroud" by following Craig. Let me repeat that: you followed Craig. That's like asking a fish for hiking directions. Predictably, this involved scrambling over rocks, mining your way up a mountain, and realizing, as always, that Craig’s “shortcut” was just a scenic route to futility. Back to Northern Peaks it was.

(For those keeping score: Marauders-5, Party-0, Craig-Detour Champion of 2024.)

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3. Cyclops Boss Fight: Dave’s Interpretive Dance

Your next bold strategy involved charging into a cave guarded by a cyclops. Naturally, Dave couldn’t wait to "dance" around the boss, presumably yelling things like, “Distract it while I do sick glider flips!” and "Look, fizzy goats!" This, in turn, left Zaph to snipe and Craig to do whatever it is Craig does (loot the chest, of course).

Oh, the chest was empty? How shocking. I’m sure Dave has no idea where the treasure went. Check his backpack; it’s probably stuffed with gold, "fey goat cheese," and whatever rare fauna he’s decided to hoard this week.

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4. Frozen Craig and the Castle That Wasn’t

Fast forward to the Albanese Summits, where you encountered the classic survival issue: someone forgot their coat. Craig, being that someone, died repeatedly of frostbite while the rest of you huddled around a flame shrine. I do admire his perseverance, though. Respawn, freeze, die. Respawn, freeze, die. Rinse, repeat. It’s practically a performance art piece.

Meanwhile, Zaph and Dave stormed the castle without him, only to discover no blast furnace and a boss who healed halfway through the fight. Their solution? Slam the door in its face and ransack the place. That’s some top-tier adventuring.

By the time Craig rejoined the group, presumably wearing a fashionable parka made of goat hair, the three of you managed to kill the boss and retrieve… the plans for the elusive blast furnace. At last! A moment of triumph! Which was immediately undercut by Craig falling in a frozen lake. Again.

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5. Lava Lighthouse and the Tapestry of Uselessness

At some point, someone thought it would be a good idea to hunt down a tapestry for the alchemist. Because nothing screams "practical survival" like antique textiles. This led to the discovery of a lighthouse in the middle of a lava lake. Who builds these things? Was the architect a Bond villain?

Craig, naturally, glided short and got stuck outside in the dark. Zaph, ever the overachiever, landed triumphantly on top of the lighthouse, probably striking a heroic pose while Dave tried to emulate him and instead plummeted to his death. Craig’s subsequent stairwell tussle with a blue dragon was just the icing on the cake.

And the tapestry? It allowed the alchemist to make… advanced antidotes. Absolutely riveting. Can’t wait to heal from all those poison flamethrowers.

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6. Mauve Fabric, Giant Pumpkins, and Craig’s Water-Walking Miracle

Finally, after all the blood, frostbite, and frustration, progress was made. You figured out how to craft purple fabric and hard leather—obviously critical in the war against flamethrowers. Zaph logged off immediately after securing his first batch of mauvite (likely to go design a spreadsheet of optimal armor stats). Craig, on the other hand, celebrated by walking on water, which, according to the blog notes, was "miraculous." I assume this lasted about five seconds before he dug into the ice and fell in.

Meanwhile, Dave continued his relentless campaign of goat-milking, pumpkin-growing, and overachieving. Because what’s a fantasy adventure without artisanal fey dairy and enormous gourds?

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Final Thoughts

In conclusion, while I was enjoying churros in Seville, you lot were freezing to death, being roasted alive, and otherwise embarrassing yourselves in spectacular fashion. I have to say, I’m both impressed and appalled. And let’s be honest: this blog isn’t just a recap—it’s a cautionary tale for anyone who thinks following Craig into the unknown is a good idea.

P.S. Craig, I hear you saved everyone at one point. No one thanked you? I’m shocked. Absolutely stunned. But don’t worry—your next hole-digging catastrophe will surely restore the natural order.

Yours in absentia,
Myles

Spires, Snow, and a Very Particular Cat

Last night’s Enshrouded session was one for the books. We covered everything from treacherous spires to a seemingly endless climb up a massive tree, only to return home with a demanding new cat who, naturally, requires fresh wolf meat on the regular. But let’s start from the top - but not chronological order.

Icy Spires and Daring (or Not-So-Daring) Feats

Scaling the new spires brought out some impressive heroics and, perhaps, a little strategic cowardice. The northern peaks introduced a new element: icy beams and slippery platforms just waiting to send one of us plummeting to an untimely demise. The puzzles atop the spires involved tricky timing with rolling fireballs, electro zaps, and spiked floors—all set on a foundation of ice. Myles, of course, was perfectly content to watch others test the beams first, wisely opting for second (or third) place in line. As they say, better them than him. Did I mention you can now feeze to death in the icy climate.

A Tree for the Ages (and Maybe Some Rage)

Then, there was the Great Tree—a colossal marvel of nature, towering a solid 40 stories high, if not more. Reaching the top required a mix of branch-hopping, hollow-crawling, and a healthy dose of expletives, mainly from Craig. While some of us attempted to keep our bearings, Craig was, shall we say, vocal in his disdain for the tree, the game, his keyboard, and perhaps the universe itself. Getting separated was almost a given, as one or two branch hops and everyone vanished from sight. With no clear path, all we could do was keep climbing and hope for the best.

Reaching the summit offered a breathtaking view—and a maddeningly close glimpse of the floating castle we’re still trying to reach. Close, but frustratingly, no closer to knowing how to actually get there.

Spider House: Now with Tradespeople… and a Cat

Back at Spider House, renovations were in full swing. We managed to rescue some local tradespeople, which should have been a relief, except they’ve turned our place into a halfway inn. Not only does each one require a bed, but they’re also strictly nine-to-five types. Apparently, the concept of 24/7 availability is lost on them. We’re running a round-the-clock operation here; we can’t have staff clocking out because it’s “nighttime.” At this rate, we may need to start a night shift.

And then there’s the cat. Our attempts to tame this aloof creature involved sneaking up with carefully tossed bait and coordinated pouncing from Dave and Myles. After finally winning its trust, it made its way back to Spider House, where it immediately set new demands: fresh wolf meat, and don’t even think about skimping. Several wolves later, the cat lounges contentedly, firmly believing it’s the true lord of Spider House. And who are we to argue?

Side Quests and the “Red Zone of Death”

A few hidden cave side quests also beckoned, easily within reach thanks to the winged suit. Well, almost easily. One of us had some compass-reading issues and veered straight into the red zone of death—a place where swearing might be the only valid survival strategy. Nothing like the smell of impending doom to build camaraderie.

And the Great Skull Debate

Finally, we come to the night’s unresolved debate: Craig versus Myles, or more precisely, Myles’ magic skulls. After a boss fight in the tree’s upper branches, Myles claimed his five skulls did all the heavy lifting. Craig, not one to let such claims go unchallenged, insists he made a dent in the enemy’s health, though specifics remain elusive. Was it 10%? 1%? We may never know, and Myles isn’t one to back down. In the end, we’ll chalk it up as a victory for the skulls… and maybe a moral victory for Craig’s patience.

All in all, it was another epic night in Enshrouded. With every peak scaled and every new “resident” at Spider House, the world grows stranger, and somehow, home feels a little more chaotic. 

So now Dave, is already setting up our winter retreat...

Spiderhouse Chronicles: The Never-Ending Quest for Gear and Glory

Friday night started out like every Friday night, with the guys standing around Spiderhouse, complaining.

“Waaa - why do I keep dying?” asks Craig.

“You need better armor,” says Dave.

“How would we even make better armor?” wonders Zaph.

“Why don’t we ask the craftspeople we rescued?” suggests Myles.

With a plan agreed upon, we march inside to inform our grateful craftspeople that their gear is shoddy and that, unless they start providing better equipment pronto, we’ll be putting them back in their sleep caskets for another thousand years. It turns out that crafting better gear requires better tools.

The Smith needs his smithing tools, which were last known to be lost in the Shroud. The farmer wants her almanac, also left behind somewhere off the map. The hunter’s looking for her loom—naturally, it’s missing in an unexplored area too. And lastly, the Alchemist wants his scientific equipment so he can set up a proper lab. When he assures us it’ll help us blow things up faster, we eagerly add that to our list.

Meanwhile, the Collector is still waiting for us to tackle the next haunted halls, but we tell him to get in line. And since the crafter already gifted us with legendary gliders, we decide not to push our luck in case he takes back our shiny new toys.

Into the Shroud: A Mushroom, a Maze, and Mayhem

Like any great adventure, this one starts with a detour. There’s a giant red mushroom puffing out toxic fumes that we just have to smash—for the environment, of course. But as we descend into the Shroud, we discover the sneaky developers have dialed up the difficulty. We find the marker pillars with ease, everyone’s got 9 or more minutes of shroud time, and we glide confidently into the depths with axes in hand. But… there’s way more lava than usual, more enemies, and, well, where’s the mushroom? Why is there suddenly an underground village, and why is everything a maze?

Our shroud counters are running down, so we retreat to regroup. Time for Plan B—the tried-and-true method honed over decades of gaming together. Myles teleports in to try an overland route, Zaph charges solo into the depths, Craig falls down a hole and dies, and Dave searches for treasure. Against all odds, Zaph stumbles upon the mushroom. “I’ve found it!” he declares, as everyone else scrambles to catch up while he’s busy dodging monsters.

Eventually, Craig and Dave manage to find Zaph, who’s frantically trying to survive with his timer down to four minutes. Myles, still navigating from above, is close enough to join us for a quick hack-and-slash on the mushroom. Bonus skill point achieved. Then, of course, the boss we’d been ignoring makes itself known, delivering a solid beatdown before we finally emerge, battered but victorious.

Mission Not Quite Accomplished

Back at Spiderhouse, we restock and repair, then head to Point Omicron, ready to glide into Umber Hollow for the Conway brothers’ last camp. We find a note about them ditching the Smith’s tools, mentioning a location we haven’t yet explored. After more wandering through Shrouded ruins, we locate the cellar stairs, and Dave summons a wisp to light our path. Like any good adventuring party (or, let’s face it, wrecking crew), we smash through obstacles and recover the tools. Victory!

“Let’s teleport back to Spiderhouse and deliver these,” suggests Zaph. But ever-pragmatic Dave reminds us we can’t teleport out of the Shroud. With the timer below two minutes, we dash for safe ground. As is tradition, we scatter in all directions—Craig gets cornered and killed by critters, Zaph attempts a glide, miscalculates, lands in lava, and dies. Myles tags along behind Dave, because… well, some people never learn.

And yet, through the mist, Dave spots the towering rock pillar landmark, leading us to a corkscrew path up into fresh air. With the Smith’s tools still intact, we call that a win, build a flame point, and revive the others.

The Desert Trek and the Sun Temple

Checking the map, we realize we’re close to our next objective, so we push on into the desert, collecting saffron, sulfur, lapis lazuli, and, of course, sand. Dave insists we dig up sand to make glass while wyverns and scorpions circle warily. He claims his “ranger skills” are calming the animals, though the team suspects it’s more to do with Dave’s hygiene (or lack thereof).

Craig finds a cliff, loudly proclaiming there’s treasure up there, so we begrudgingly follow the road to a campsite, finding the farmer’s almanac instead. After a quick map check and an obligatory photo at the obelisk (before Craig inevitably breaks it), we spot the magnificent Sun Temple in a ruined city below. Knowing our mortality rate, we set a fast travel point, just in case.

Craig builds stairs for us to glide from, and we soar over the landscape into the city. Dave, always the treasure magnet, spots a silver chest and dives off to investigate, leaving the rest of us to face high-level enemies. After much scrambling, dying, and regrouping, we finally make it to the temple.

Inside, we puzzle over why adventure always seems to go down, into the dark, and into the Shroud. Craig suggests sticking together, but Zaph immediately heads off, Myles and Dave chase loot, and Craig is left shaking his head. When Dave finds a glowing symbol and presses it, we’re left wondering what it even unlocked, but hey, progress! With more button-pressing and stair-descending, we open a door, finding ourselves face-to-face with Fell Sicklescythe, whose head we apparently need for some altar upgrade. After a fierce battle, we bag the head (gross) and loot the area before hightailing it out.

Another Night at Spiderhouse… and an Unfinished To-Do List

Back at Spiderhouse, we unload, restock, and return to building the lab, the loom, and—finally—some good gear. Or so we thought. The armor requires padding, which requires cloth, which requires flax. Lots of flax. We don’t have any, but we do have seeds. While we log off, Dave gets to work expanding the farm, harvesting crops, and setting up six beehives so we can at least make honey. Soon, there’s honey, sugar, fertile soil, and a growing field of flax.

But as the harvest grows, so does the challenge. Somewhere out there is an ancient mountain city, rumored to hold secrets, treasures, and probably an impressive range of ways to meet an untimely end. And if Spiderhouse is going to survive it… we’ll need every bit of armor we can get our hands on.

The Glorious Remodel, Glider Mishaps, and a (Not So) Legendary Reward

Last night’s adventure began with the triumphant unveiling of Dave’s hard-won renovations at our humble “SpiderHouse.” Through sheer force of will—and, let’s be honest, some questionable inventory management lectures—Dave had turned our base into a true landmark. With glow pillars “visible from space” and a strict chest organization system, no item would again face the indignity of landing in the wrong blue (magic) chest. Not on Dave’s watch, anyway. As for Craig, well, the more rules there are, the more creatively he finds ways to “enhance” the base.

Case in point: his rebellious homage to Led Zeppelin with a “Stairway to Heaven.” Surprisingly, it was no slipshod job. The staircase gleamed with glow bricks on either side, built faster than anyone could critique its purpose—or lack thereof. We were almost impressed.

As we gathered to take in Dave’s remodeled fortress and upgraded to legendary gliders, Zaph dropped the night’s first real bombshell: he wouldn’t be sticking around. An unexpected illness had cut his session short, taking our best-laid plans down with it. Adjustments were made on the fly; we scrapped any high-risk missions (no shroud mushrooms for us) and set our sights on simpler objectives, where the odds of Craig lighting himself on fire might be slightly lower.

To the Minty Mushrooms… (Craig, It’s the Mushroom Waypoint)

Our next goal was upgrading the Flame Altar, requiring a jaunt to the Minty Mushroom waypoint. Despite specific directions, Craig predictably went the wrong way, showing up at the fast travel tower instead. The Minty Mushrooms held all the chaotic charm they usually do, with plenty of deadly red mushrooms for Craig to “demonstrate” his new leap ability—right into a cloud of poison breath. As he coughed up what was left of his lungs, we followed Dave’s advice to fight from a “safer distance.” Safer for everyone except Craig, that is.

The Lava Basement & Quest Cleanup

With our Flame Altar newly leveled, we turned to the cluttered mess of our quest logs. First stop: a flooded basement in Pike’s Reach. Because, naturally, it’s not enough that it’s a basement—it’s a lava basement. Several heroic attempts later (and a few Craig fatalities), we uncovered a buried chest. What treasures did it yield? More castle building blocks, in case our spirits weren’t already dampened enough by the lava.

The Case of the Dragon Monument

As we ventured on, we came across a dragon monument that looked eerily like the classic Dungeons & Dragons artwork Myles had been reminiscing about. When Dave suggested the “minor adjustment” of removing the dragon’s eyes, Myles promptly vetoed, citing old tales of dragon wrath. We continued on, content to leave the dragon’s dignity (and eyeballs) intact.

Lost, Lava, and Left-Hand Rules

Our evening ended with a half-hour debate about how to reach the next waypoint in an impassable mountainous shroud. Dave’s plan, which sounded great on paper, guided us to a tunnel that eventually led back into the shroud bowl from Kappa—the exact opposite direction we’d hoped. After a quick SpiderHouse resupply (chamomile tea included), we pressed on with the old “left-hand rule.” Craig kept us grounded with his running commentary: “We’re lost, this is the same spot, are we there yet?”

After an impressive scramble and one misplaced fast travel point, we finally reached an old mine… just in time to be “rewarded” with yet another set of castle blocks. Nothing says heroism quite like a glorified brick collection.

Final Glide & Towering Views

In a last dash of exploration, we took a scenic glide over the hills, marveling at the view while quietly noting how we could’ve taken a far easier route. But where’s the adventure in that?

Traps, Tigers, and Teamwork in Pairs (Sort of)

Last night’s misadventures in Enshrouded taught us many valuable lessons, some more painful than others.

First up, Craig became intimately acquainted with the concept of traps. After Dave pointed out the suspiciously obvious leaf mat concealing a spike trap, it took all of two seconds before Craig strolled right into it. We’d like to think it was bravery, but honestly, it was perfect comic timing. Well played, Craig.

Meanwhile, Dave, always in a hurry, learned that flying with low stamina is a leading cause of death in Enshrouded. One moment he’s soaring through the skies, the next he’s plummeting to his doom. Given his experience, you’d think he’d see it coming, but nope—too eager to get wherever it was he was going.

Zaph, on the other hand, demonstrated a different survival strategy: ditch the loud ones and run ahead. Somehow, he managed to get a whole kilometer north before we even noticed. We were both impressed and slightly concerned that he hadn’t died—usually, going alone in Enshrouded results in a quick and painful demise. But hey, it worked.

As for me, I learned how to dodge. Or rather, I learned which button to press. Unfortunately, I mostly pressed it too late. Still, progress is progress.

We also rediscovered the value of smashing everything in sight. This time, it wasn’t just for fun—there’s extra loot in those piles of debris, and now that we’re in need of new materials, we’ll be smashing everything in sight with purpose. Dave, ever the explorer, stumbled upon a secret door, which means we’re now doomed to spend every minute of the game checking for more. Expect slow progress in future expeditions.

Speaking of teamwork, we’ve perfected a new strategy: splitting up. Apparently, four people can easily go in three different directions, but it’s still teamwork if two pairs go in two directions—at least, that’s our excuse, and we’re sticking to it. Of course, at one point, we all wiped out. The plan was for Dave to heroically respawn and heal us all. It went as well as you’d expect. One by one, we all ended up respawning anyway. Next time, we’ll just skip to that step.

On the combat front, we bravely killed a Fell Monstrosity and even managed to provoke the Vukah (bugbears). The tigers, however, remain a problem. One is manageable, but they never seem to come in ones. We always miscount, and then it’s a panicked scramble to escape.

To wrap up the night, we upgraded SpiderHouse. Dave took it upon himself to build not one, but four wells. Apparently, exploring is thirsty work. He then spent a suspicious amount of time organizing the food into storage boxes—cooked meat in one, mushrooms in another, berries in a third. It’s all according to some VivalaDirt video, but let’s be honest—Craig’s going to mess with the system. It’s just a matter of time.

Until next time, when we’ll probably run into more traps, fight more tigers, and argue about storage boxes.

Oh, and obelisks

Addendum (Courtesy of Dave’s OCD Corner)

In a further bid to impose order on our chaos, Dave has now sorted all the food. The proud declaration: meat in one box, mushrooms in another, and berries in a third. Very neat, very efficient… until someone (ahem, Craig) inevitably mixes things up. We all know it’s coming.

But wait, there’s more. Dave’s heroic efforts also revealed a source of great shame—the mysterious blue rift near SpiderHouse? Salt mine. Yes, folks, we’ve been running circles around our much-needed resource without realizing it. Cue the collective facepalm.

As if that wasn’t enough, a quick bit of googling revealed that the tin we’ve been frantically searching for is also conveniently located in one of those blue rifts we were running around last night. So, in short, we’ve been smashing everything but the most obvious.

Oh, and while Zaph was away, Dave, Craig, and I tracked down what we needed to start alchemical production. Naturally, this required more wells, so Dave, never one to do things by halves, built two more. Alchemical production, as it turns out, is a thirsty business.

A Lesson in Monolith Etiquette: Look, Don’t Touch

In the heart of Enshrouded, four heroes—Myles, Dave, Zaph, and Craig—stumbled upon their latest discovery: a grand, towering monolith adorned with glowing purple runes. Naturally, the team did what any reasonable adventurers would do—they posed for a group photo. After all, documenting these rare finds is practically a sacred ritual.

Everything was going smoothly until we reached the second monolith. This one, even more majestic than the last, beckoned us to immortalize the moment once again. As we began lining up, the ever-curious Craig decided to get hands-on. And by that, I mean he reached out and touched the glowing artifact, despite our unspoken rule: no touching things before the photo.

It turns out monoliths aren’t particularly fond of being handled. The purple runes faded almost instantly, and what had once been a mystical stone now looked like any other chunk of boring rock. The photo op? Ruined. Craig, of course, claimed he was “just testing something.” Sure, Craig. Sure.

So, if you ever find yourself exploring Enshrouded with Craig, keep him well away from anything he can touch, especially if it’s glowing. And if you’re hoping for a perfect photo, don’t get your hopes up—because in our party, they always seem to go hilariously wrong.

 

It's just a boring chunk of rock

We seemed to have mapped a lot. The further to the fringes we go - the more in over our heads we get.

The tentacle mushroom - that must be destroyed to push back the shroud.

Simple - just glide in and smash with axe. Try not to land in the lava.

A Tale of Skulls, Shrooms, and Death Markers

Our noble band of adventurers—Dave, Zaph, Craig, and yours truly, Myles—set off once again, brimming with optimism and, as usual, a rapidly dwindling supply of skull bombs. We did manage to destroy three, maybe four shroud mushrooms, though Craig reminded us why this is never straightforward with the insightful observation: "I forgot they have a bunch of monsters around these."

Classic Craig.

He followed that up with his oft-repeated catchphrase, "I'm dead," delivered with his trademark mixture of surprise and inevitability. The night was also punctuated by my own profound insight: "Of course, we’ve all run off in different directions." Naturally, the rest of the group, from their shared corner of the map, replied, "It’s only one direction. The three of us are here, where are you?"

Ah, teamwork.

We could always count on Zaph for wisdom, though: "I will have the fancy pants," he declared, adding a touch of sartorial elegance to the carnage. But as skull-summoning is something of a lifesaver (literally), we found ourselves back at Spider House to make more bombs. Of course, being the resourceful planners we are, we were out of ingredients. This may have something to do with my tendency to toss skulls like popcorn at the cinema, a lesson I’ve been slow to internalize.

After some intense scholarly research (okay, a quick look-up), I discovered we needed ectoplasm fragments. Because why wouldn’t we? So off we went, rummaging through bone piles, eventually securing enough to craft a few skull-summoning bombs and, because you never know when you’ll need one, a skeleton key. As true adventurers, we then ventured into yet another unknown hallowed hall—because, apparently, one was not enough.

We scrambled across hills, finally setting up a charming little outpost overlooking what can only be described as the Valley of Death. Naturally, I asked, "What's the plan?" Dave, in his infinite wisdom, promptly hurled himself off a ledge into a swarm of enemies, shouting, "Follow me!" Like lemmings, we did.

Fast-forward a few centuries, and future archeologists are likely still puzzling over the numerous red death markers we left in that hall. Skulls were thrown, ectoplasm was sacrificed, and the evening ended with us thoroughly battered, bruised, and questioning our life choices.

To wrap things up, Craig suggested finishing the sawmill quest. I, ever the pragmatist, reminded him, "We already got one." A quick map consultation revealed that the sawmill was, inconveniently, located a long trek through shrouded lands. Craig, ever the optimist, pointed out that it was only a glide away. I, ever the realist, pointed out that our gliders were not, in fact, jet-propelled.

So instead, we returned to the scene of earlier chaos to find the capitol. "How hard can that be?" we mused. Well, as it turns out, it’s incredibly hard. Fugging sucks, really. Upon arrival, we discovered every door locked and, waiting for us, a giant purple death lizard.

While Dave nobly served as a distraction (read: became a corpse), Zaph and I peppered it with arrows from a safe distance, while Craig, as usual, was off on some solo side quest, searching for a back entrance. Through sheer perseverance (and the nearby flame shrine), Zaph ultimately took down the beast. Naturally, the death lizard was carrying the key to all the doors. Behind said doors? A trove of chests. Because, of course, that’s why we’re here.

And with that victory, we returned to Spider House, where a well-earned nightcap and a deep, dreamless sleep awaited.

Stay heroic, stay foolish.

I got a bad feeling about this

The emperor's new clothes

 The mighty giant purple death lizard.

Correct distance to fight lizard

With much fighting comes much repairing (So much repairing)

The Quest for Copper (And the Giant That Broke Us)

 This week, we set out on a mission to upgrade our gear by acquiring copper ingots. The plan? Simple enough: unlock the foundry, and to do that we needed to clear out an "bugbear" encampment, and take down whatever was in our way. Of course, with our group’s history of misadventures, things never go quite as planned. What should have been an easy win turned into a fight against two massive bosses—a giant with a big sword and a bugbear. It didn’t take long for things to go sideways.

The Giant’s Resetting Health – A Battle in Futility:

Our first big challenge was a giant near an ancient bridge, guarding what we thought was a hidden treasure. We had no idea that defeating him was the key to progressing the quest—so we spent way too long running around, searching for an item that didn’t exist while trying to keep the giant distracted.

We set up a plan where Myles took position in a tower, trying to lure the giant away so Dave, Zaph, and Craig could search the area. It felt like a solid plan… until it became clear that nothing was working. Not only were we dying repeatedly, but the giant had this lovely mechanic where he would retreat back to his starting point and fully reset his health.

After a few too many deaths and frustrations, we gave in and checked the internet. That’s when we learned the truth: we weren’t supposed to be looking for treasure. We were supposed to kill the giant.

Once we knew that, it still wasn’t easy. The giant was several levels ahead of us, and we were barely holding on. Myles had the ability to summon skulls to fight alongside us, and we just started throwing everything we had at the giant. After chipping away at his health, and nervously watching to see if he’d reset again, we finally got him to about halfway and realized—this is it, we’ve got him. If he’d reset again, it would’ve been heartbreaking, but this time he stayed in the fight, and we managed to take him down. It was a hard-earned victory, but we finally got the reward.

Facing the Bugbear – A (Surprisingly) Easy Win:

After the struggle with the giant, we braced ourselves for the next boss, a creature we’ve dubbed the “bugbear boss.” Given how tough the giant had been, we assumed this would be just as brutal. But surprisingly, the bugbear boss felt like a breeze in comparison. We figured out his moves—a stomp here, a dash there—and managed to dodge pretty well. Unlike the giant, the bugbear didn’t reset, which was a huge relief.

It turns out this fight was more our speed, likely because it was better matched to our level. Nobody died, though we took a few hits figuring out his patterns. After a few well-timed dodges and some coordinated attacks, the bugbear went down easily. Compared to the giant, this felt like a nice reward for all the chaos we’d already gone through.

The Group Dynamic – Organized Chaos:

After twenty years of playing these games together, you’d think we’d have the teamwork thing down. But truthfully, we’ve settled into a rhythm of organized chaos. The game allows us the freedom to explore, and it’s not uncommon for someone to peel off and investigate something while the rest of us stick to the plan—or try to, anyway (Not naming names, you know who you are).

When the big fights hit, though, we manage to rally together, even if it’s a little messy. We’ve learned to embrace our chaotic style. That said, after the experience with the giant and his frustrating resets, we’re definitely more mindful now. If a boss starts resetting on us, we know it’s time to rethink our strategy instead of brute-forcing our way through.

We also upgraded our gliders. Here's Zaph looking at a speck in the sky, which is Dave flying in. Now we can really fly so serious distance.

There was a lengthy scenario to get to Zaph's loot at the top of The Pillars Of Creation. The "Sabertooth tiger" was brutal, and not to be faced alone.

When will this night ever end

We should have known better. Seriously, after getting completely wrecked at level 3 by the level 10 skeletons in the Halls of the Dead, you’d think we’d learn. But no. In true fashion, we decided to march back in there like conquering heroes, now at the mighty level 8. Spoiler: It didn’t go as planned.

The Halls were still as eerie and unsettling as ever—Aragorn would’ve felt right at home here. The dark, winding passages stretched down and down, way deeper than we remembered. With every level, things got nastier: skeleton dogs, towering red-sword-wielding skeleton bosses, and, to our horror, respawning enemies crawling out of massive bone piles oozing from the walls. It felt like we were trapped in an undead meat grinder.

We rallied the crew—Dave, Myles, Zaph, and Craig—optimistic (okay, maybe just stupid). But even with our battle-worn experience, the Halls had us respawning left and right at orb locations (I don't actually know what they are called). Every time we thought we’d cleared a room, a wave of fresh horrors crawled out of the walls. It was like trying to mop up the ocean with a paper towel.

Meanwhile, in the real world, it was creeping closer to midnight, and we were starting to wonder just how deep these cursed halls went. The further we ventured, the more relentless the waves of undead became. Then, we hit a force field—because of course, we did. It was blocking our way forward, and we all knew there had to be some kind of arcane switch hidden nearby to deactivate it. Problem was, the skeletons just kept pouring in, and our progress was completely stalled.

Eventually, Zaph found the switch, but in the chaos, the message didn’t exactly make it to everyone. Dave and Zaph pushed ahead while Craig and I were left clueless, trying to fend off skeletons and wondering why half the squad had vanished. It took a few more panicked moments before we finally caught on and regrouped.

And then, the pièce de résistance: we finally reached the Inner Sanctum. There, in all its glory, was the reward we had fought (and died, repeatedly) for. Only, in the excitement of the moment, Craig was too far away to claim it. Yup, after all the blood, sweat, and skeleton guts, Craig didn’t get his prize.

To say we were frustrated would be an understatement—but, let’s be real, this kind of chaos is why we keep coming back. Sure, the Halls of the Dead handed us our butts on a silver platter, but we’ll be back (probably under-leveled again).

With all the killing our weapons were wearing out - lucky there was an anvil

In other news - there was a lot of spiders in some other dungeon, and I mean A LOT.

We’ll never have enough crates. It’s like everyone’s actively avoiding the right one—Marie Kondo would have a breakdown seeing this chaos. But hey, at least it keeps everyone busy, even if it sparks zero joy.