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The Last Gods (3e)



The night air is chilly¸ but the crackling fire you've started warms your bones comfortably. Crickets chirp¸ and you smile up at the stars¸ glad for the quiet evening. There is a loud roar¸ and you are blinded momentarily as the campfire suddenly surges up into the air. The flames split down the middle¸ revealing an abyss that leeches the warmth from your soul. Out of this hellish place stumbles a black-cloaked figure clutching a scythe. Quickly¸ you reach for your weapons.


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