Castle Xyntillan Journal - Part Four

Before you proceed, please understand that this is an in-character record of my gaming notes. Be aware that it contains spoilers for the Castle Xyntillan mega dungeon module. Turn back now.

Start at Part One.

Source: Nigel Parker, Wikimedia Commons

The Fourth Expedition, July 21, 2026 

You could feel the simmering anticipation leading up to our next expedition to the halls of Castle Xyntillan. Our delving company was busy with preparations as we followed up on leads and sought out new tales and rumours concerning the haunted halls of this most imposing structure.  

Our company for this journey was made of five adventurers, and two hirelings brought on with coin. In total, we were as follows: 

• Norg (your humble author), a gnome thief. 
• Whim, a human fighter (and honorary gnome). 
• Carl, a holy cleric. 
• Spud, a fellow thief. 
• Riley, a new member of our company and a cleric to boot! 
• Noz, our faithful torch bearer 
• And Jean, a cowardly footman, armed lightly.  

Rumours Heard in the City 

Whim and I pressed our ears to the ground, and paid off the typical rumour mongers with whom we're acquainted, learning the following: 

"Wearing red will keep away the scarlet spectre." Author's note: we previously encountered the apparition of Hugo, an ethereal crimson spirit. I believe this rumour relates to him, and he can be appeased with a small offering of lifeblood.  

"Much treasure has been won from Castle Xyntillan, the heirlooms of the Malevol family are still uncovered and they lead to a greater prize." Author's note: I feel as though this one speaks for itself. Of course there is still treasure, otherwise delving companies wouldn't spend the time plumbing the depths of the castle! 

In addition, I spoke with a local alchemist concerning the rose bulb I dug up from the castle garden. He did not recognize the specimen, despite his claims of knowing every plant in the region. Notably, he informed yours truly of its properties in crafting a weaker sleeping potion, and showed great enthusiasm in acquiring more rose bulbs.  

Developments and Notes on the Castle Ravens 

I would highly suggest that any delvers seeking to plunder the castle bring with them a quantity of fresh meats, for the castle ravens dearly love it. They were crying quite angrily upon approach by our party, and I fed them as usual, which appeased them towards me. However, they made sure to swoop at the other members of the company. Upon producing meats from their trail rations, the ravens took the offerings, and returned to their roosts on the castle ramparts.  

Climbing the Gatehouse Towers 

Two crumbling towers flank the gatehouse entrance, which we have favoured in all previous expeditions. The south tower is approximately a 60 foot climb of rubble ending in a 20 foot sheer climb. My fellow thief, Spud, attempted ingress but we both agreed thief-to-thief that the climb wasn't worth further risk without appropriate safety measures.  

However, Spud did manage to climb the north gatehouse tower. From their, they could spy a dome to the north, which roughly covers the log cutting room detailed earlier in this journal, approximately 40 feet across. In addition, to the east they could spy the donjon of the castle, roughly the same height as the tower upon which they stood.  

Beyond the donjon stands yet another tower, residing upon a lake. Truly, it sparks one's curiosity, and no doubt will be the subject of future expeditions.  

The Grand Entrance 

After poking about the gatehouse, our party mutually decided that it would be worth exploring another entrance onto the castle grounds. With that in mind, we decided to attempt the primary castle entrance.  

Based on our previous experiences with the unliving inhabitants of the castle, as well as their servants, we thought it might be worthwhile to concoct a cover story. With that in mind, Whim was to be our lord, with our clerics serving as humble (but high-ranking) religious authorities. Rounding out the number would be Spud, a manservant, and myself, and exotic herald in service to this far flung lordling.  

Two massive statues flank the main entrance. On one side is a seated griffin, which appears quite normal. The other is a unicorn, reared up on its hindlegs. Notably, its front hooves are replaced by hands. Our company found it to be most unsettling, as we find many things in this accursed place. Notably, when Riley was probing it with her magical skills, an evil aura clung to both statues. Otherwise, the two statues show the same kind fo genteel decay one can see throughout the castle.  

Lastly, the main entrance does display a large amount of foot traffic coming into the castle, as well as exiting it.  

The Receiving Hall 

A large wooden door leads into the receiving hall. We attempted knocking, in accordance with our cover story, but to no avail. Mustering my courage, I was lead my party into the room. It is a large chamber, roughly 40' x 50' and has double exits along the eastern and western walls, as well as to the north.  

The ceiling is high, and vaulted, despite not showing such height from Spud's earlier survey of the castle grounds, which feels most curious. Six stone columns are arrayed in a uniform fashion, supporting the ceiling, and they are quite thick, even for the loping arms of a human. Holes in the ceiling provide a dim light by which most can see, revealing splats of guano on the tiled floor.  

An apparition was here upon our arrival, and stood weeping in the corner. James, as we came to know him, was most distraught about the condition of the castle. He truly felt upkeep was beyond his ability on his lonesome. Seeking his favor, we inquired as to how we might assuage his distress. James advised that the portrait hall needed dusting, and that the mess hall was messy.  

A cloak, cane, and pair of shoes were in this foyer, and we inquired after James of who this guest might be. We were informed by the butler that this guest was long forgotten, and that we were free to take the items if we wished. Divine clerical magic identified these items as evil, and they were carefully placed in our loot sack for further consideration.  

I took the opportunity to further interrogate James. I learned that there are gargoyles within the inner courtyard, which all within my company were pleased to hear, as we have heard that one of them has a very interesting story to tell.  

In addition, James advised us that the Malevols brew their famous wine offsite, at a nearby winery. Truly, this bears further investigation.  

The Portrait Room 

The north hall leading from the receiving room runs for about 50 feet before making a right turn. From here, it opens up into an impressive portrait hall, and the very same in need of dusting, according to James. 

A door is to the left, from which we heard a great deal of boisterous carousing. Further along, a hallway cuts left. Beyond that, and area rife with cobwebs. And rounding this out is a staircase leading to the second story.  

At the entrance to the gallery, we spied another griffin statue. Instead of being seated, it stood rampant. A plaque upon the statue, which stood only five feet, read, "Courage Vindicated".  

Carl tried the raised paw as a lever, but to no success. However, upon inspecting its mouth, we spotted an opening leading into the statue. Running rope into the opening, we saw that it went about a foot to a foot and a half inward, to its chest. Reaching in, we found a potion which was labeled as a potion of heroism. I will be advising we trade it for coin, but I will defer to my companions as it could still prove most useful in our adventuring.  

Feeling the need to make good on our agreement with the butler, we set about dusting portraits. There were seven in total, depicting the following Malevols: 

• Philomone, the Quick; her portrait spoke, bidding us to visit her upstairs in her chambers.  
• Girolamo, the Dupe; his portrait demanded affidavits, to which I produced the very same parchments upon which I make the scrawls which became this record.  
• Aristide, the Patrician; this Malevol simply scowled at us. 
• "The Silent Wail"; this portrait was painted over in black, and the inscription was not on a plaque like the others but instead carved into the frame.  
• Hubert, the Huntsman; meeting the gaze of this portrait causes an arrow to be loosed. It broke upon the armor of Whim, who was unfortunate enough to meet Huberts's gaze. Runes are etched upon the arrow, though none in our company could read them.  
• Mortago, the Axe; this individual is heavily muscled, and moves through a series of poses intended to show his physique.  
• Marcel, the Malnourished; meeting his gaze results in him begging for food. However, our attempts to feed him failed. He informed us that if we were truly hungry we could nourish ourselves on the pigeons around the donjon.  

The paintings were removed from their frames and carefully rolled up for easier transport. Hopefully they value highly, as we can always use the extra coin! 

The Mess Hall 

Despite Spud and I listening at the door, the singing and carrying on was quite loud, and all in our party could hear the raucous singing through the stone door. Spending time listening to the song, we made the decision to move in and join along, and I am thankful for that decision! 

For within the chamber, measuring 40' by 30' were seated about three dozen skeletons! They were engaged in riotous song, singing of valorous deeds from no doubt ages ago. Fixed in the center of the room was a corpse, strung up by his ankles.  

Sensing my urge to inspect this body, Whim created a distraction while Spud lifted me up to relief the deceased of his holy symbol, his dagger, and a finely wrought snuff box from his pockets.  

Finally, of great note, there is a human-sized automaton in the corner of this room. In front of him sits a chess board. Our best guess is that this is some sort of playing partner. However, we felt we had pressed our luck enough for this expedition, and instead decided to make off with the booty we had acquired.  

Of Note 

Bring meat for the ravens. 

Have the evil items evaluated. They detect as magical.  

Prepare for the statues at the entrance. 

Make ready to confront the gargoyles.  

Brush up on chess.  

-Daz

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Dungeon Crawler Carl Made Me Vomit in My Mouth a Little

The hype around Dungeon Crawler Carl finally broke me. I've been searching my library apps for the audiobook (which I hear is great), but to no avail. With a waiting list that'll take longer than I'd like, I opted to dive into the four-chapter preview that the Libby app provides its users. 

Source: Matt Dinniman official site. 

What is Dungeon Crawler Carl about? Here's what Matt Dinniman says on his official website, "You know what’s worse than breaking up with your girlfriend? Being stuck with her prize-winning show cat. And you know what’s worse than that? An alien invasion, the destruction of all man-made structures on Earth, and the systematic exploitation of all the survivors for a sadistic intergalactic game show. That’s what."

From the opening paragraph I knew I would hate this book. Immediately, I was picking up vibes like I did when reading Cline's Ready Player One. If you hated that book, I think you'll hate this one too. I sure did. And I think I know why. Both volumes appeal to a sense of insider knowledge that excludes those not steeped in the secret lore. If you're a nerd, or a geek, you will sure love this! We're going to make references! It feels gate-keepy to me, whether that's intentional or not. 

Carl's just a regular dude. Six-foot-something and "I don't work out, but I look alright," he reminds me of the heroes from the pulp era; machismo and capability but without any kind of self-awareness or humility that made them likeable. Self-described as "not an asshole," which he feels the need to mention constantly within the first couple of chapters, you're left with the impression that Carl is probably the asshole. He broke up with his girlfriend because of an Instagram post and started smoking with her cat in their shared apartment out of spite (but hey, he cracked a window because he respects that cat! What a good dude!). He's also ex-Coast Guard, a trained martial artist, and an electrician. Just a regular everyman. Oh, and he "doesn't like drama." Carl is just a set of walking red flags in his one-dimensionality. In fact, as much (if not more) words are dedicated to describing Princess Donut, a Persian cat who is the other main character in the series.

I'm out of it constantly, but the series is part of the LitRPG genre, which is otherworldly fiction that also includes traditional RPG mechanics found on character sheets, like stats, skills and so forth. Carl's stats are the standard six popularized in RPGs like Dungeons & Dragons. Dinniman has Carl quote both D&D and Pathfinder as games he knows from his service days, so the author is definitely familiar. 

I didn't know about LitRPG before reading this book, but if you're familiar with modern isekai material like .hack or Sword Art Online, then you will understand this book. You have my apologies in advance. I also didn't realize that it's become a very popular genre in recent years, but that's on me. I don't read much newer stuff, and usually dislike it when I do (looking at you Sanderson, the Raising Cane's of fantasy). 

And speaking of iskeai, I think what's unfortunate about this book is how well it trods those well traveled paths of the genre. It's a contributing factor to my distaste, as I feel I've seen it before. It also explains why those in my circles might enjoy it; they're not consuming stories in those spaces at the same volume I have. I can fairly say that much of my dislike comes from isekai burnout. If you are or were a Marvel fan, you might relate to the pure saturation these bloated works occupy. 

Besides the stumbling introduction, the first thing that irked me was the pop ups. We hate them in real life, we hate them in Dungeon Crawler Carl. Maybe if I read further, he'd have one using tricks to stay open? We've seen this in other places, and especially in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Both serve the same purpose, which is to allow the author to give pithy info dumps. I'm not against the idea, but the execution left me feeling sour. If anything, I find it more interesting and engaging when the protag's guide is an actual character. From the genre, I point to the example of Hugi from Three Hearts, Three Lions by Poul Anderson. Hugi was knowledgeable of the world as he guided Holger, but had a personality that helped weave the lore dumps into the story, instead of reading like a footnote within the prose. 

We have another exposition dump with the alien corporation, who then explains over the next several pages the rules of the game world (BTW Earth is now an 18 level dungeon for survivors to crawl). Notably, you learn that as each level is cleared, remaining exits to the next level are halved. At the end, there will be two, and then one exit for Carl to reach. Or will he sacrifice himself for Donut? Or a love interest? Or a love interest who is Donut? 

Dialogue is not a strength for Dinniman. And every time characters speak, you can feel your eyes cry. Now Carl is new to this situation, so I do have empathy for him. It's just sad that so much of his reactions are literally "Oh shit!" and "What is this?" It's tiresome and a waste of words. Later, when meeting a mentor figure, we have to deal with the affectation of the mentor calling Carl "kid." Since the mentor is a shape changer, and states that he'll reappear later when more dungeon levels are cleared, I'm sure readers will feel smart when a stranger calls Carl "kid" again. Borrowing from series like The Hunger Games, the mentor, Mordecai, is the Haymitch to Carl's Katniss. 

More pages get dedicated to describing the achievements Carl unlocks. At some point, the text just has him dismissing them, which I'm sure will be a plot point that returns to bite him in the ass. It's the achievement text that really burns my butter; it's the low effort sarcasm of modern internet discourse passing as humor. I realize how old I sound typing that out, by the way. But seriously, the passages were tiring to read. 

Let me give Matt Dinniman some credit after shitting on so much of his work. I think he writes serviceable action sequences. Carl's first real fight with some goblins was fairly interesting to read. The language is jumpy and exciting. The downside is this scene could have done more to help set the tone for violence in the series. As enemies, the goblins felt interesting. But also, they are just a pastiche of everything we expect of goblins in our cultural zeitgeist. Mordecai delivers an entire speech about how the aliens made sure to study Earth and humans thoroughly so that they could have a really entertaining dungeon show! While the idea is cool, it easily rewards lazy writing, and Matt exploits this by throwing the most tired ideas at us. The book even takes time to tell us the dungeon concept is Survivor meets Running Man. 

So, can I recommend this book? If you want something that's mental junk food and requires little thought, I think this series is for you. It's the literary equivalent of a Netflix show you put on in the background. You barely have to pay attention to what's going on. Every few pages, there is an exposition dump to make sure you're caught up on the action. For me, it's the movie that is intentionally made in the vein of B-movies with shlock and gore and violence while winking at the camera, but it lacks the earnestness and soul that makes the worst ones cult classics. It's litslop for the booktok crowd. 

My initial reaction posted to Instagram was, "Hitchhikers meets Hunger Games by way of Ready Player One while the author feeds you a shit sandwich of the English language." I stand by that statement. I'm glad I checked out the preview and didn't spend more time or money reading the full book. 

Finally, it's my understanding that it's been optioned as a TV show. I think that's a fine place for it, and I think it'll work great in that space. It just sucks as a book. Maybe Dinniman should write screenplays. 

-Daz

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Review: Secret Stairways - Enchantment of the Ring

Artwork by Arisa Fields.

I'm not sure when I first got into dungeon synth. Not actively, at least. I was certainly into the proto acts of the 90s, like Dead Can Dance, but knowing it as a genre of music certainly didn't occur until 20 years later. 

About ten years ago I was looking for ambient music to use in my games of D&D. This is when I came across Enchantment of the Ring by Secret Stairways. Probably like many others, I found it through YouTube on the Dungeon Synth Archives channel. 

When I queued it up to play, I was immediately drawn in by the power of "What Lies Beyond the Door." It is such a simple yet powerful song. Suffice to say I was hooked, and I sat there at my laptop, listening, until I finished the record. 

As is common knowledge, Matthew Davis, the creative mind behind Secret Stairways, chose to take his life in 2011. During my first listen I could feel myself connecting with the emotion of his compositions; I wonder if the emotions stirred up within me where the same driving his creative process?

For me, each track feels deeply personal, including the ones he wrote for use in television. It's rare as a creative to be able to inject so much of your personality into work for hire, and I feel that Matthew did it so well. 

Songs like "Onward to Hy Breasail" and the aforementioned "What Lies Beyond the Door" are both deeply moody and atmospheric. It's easy to see how they would become retroactively slotted into the dungeon synth genre, as they both showcase the purposeful exploration of sonic landscapes that are so common in contemporary pieces. In particular, these two songs bookend the album wonderfully for me, as the first begs questions of its listener, calling on them to receive a message on the wind. Meanwhile, the closing track echoes back, in its way answering to its predecessor's challenge. 

Tucked in the middle, "Lammas Tide" finds itself to be a particular favorite of mine. The soundscape is almost choral, and filled with a longing and appeal as it searches for something more. There is a gentleness to its rise and fall of notes, as if to soothe its listener along their path of acceptance. 

This flows smoothly into another favorite, "Collecting Primroses." Adopting a more uplifting spirit, I find the track to be encouraging, which truly shows the strength of its composer. As a two-time survivor of suicide attempts, it reminds me of the talks I would have with myself leading up to those attempts. Or perhaps I'm simply projecting. I just wish Matthew could feel the love and joy that these tracks have brough to others. 

One theme that keeps me coming back is the plodding, bouncing melodies exhibited across many of the songs, such as in "Reflections on the Lake." Clearly, it was a strength of his, though harsher critics might say he leans too heavy on it through these compositions. As for me? I don't think I agree. Mr. Davis is an underappreciated talent outside of the genre, and I don't engage with the fandom enough to have any insights into how others feel. 

Overall, I would easily place Enchantment of the Ring into my top five dungeon synth albums; even going so far as placing it as my number one choice overall. Not only is it a great introductory into what the genre offers listeners, these tracks have held up extremely well over the years, standing the test of time while the larger space experiences its own rise and fall of trends and shifting tastes. 

What makes the work of Matthew Davis endure is the fact it's authentically his voice, without the weight of expectation holding him back. Had this been released when the genre had finally taken hold, it would most definitely be an entirely different beast. 

You can listen to Enchantment of the Ring and support his legacy through Bandcamp. 

-Daz

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Castle Xyntillan Journal - Part Three

Before you proceed, please understand that this is an in-character record of my gaming notes. Be aware that it contains spoilers for the Castle Xyntillan mega dungeon module. Turn back now.

Start at Part One.

Can we make ingress through the rubble?

The Third Expedition, July 7th, 2026 

Time has passed slowly since my last expedition. The castle puts a strong hold on a person. It calls out to you in your dreams. Thoughts of treasure haunt your waking sleep. I knew I must return soon.  

A party was assembled for the latest foray into the halls of the castle. Once more I joined with Carl the Cleric and our fighter friend Whim. In addition, another footpad (known as Spud on the streets) joined our company. While I am no judge of human beauty, this fellow really has an unfortunate face. Lastly, our alliance included a Paladin by the name of Phosphorus. Joining him was his henchman, another fighting man with a strong sword arm. Rounding out our number was Noz, the one who bore our torch during the previous delve.  

Rumours Heard in the City 

The drunkards and tale tellers and rumour mongers had plenty to say as I spent coin plying them with drink. Here are the choicest morsels for your consideration. 

“A wise old gargoyle has a legend to tell for those who will listen.” 

“You can get into the castle through a cave mouth through the lake, for those who don’t want a front entrance.” 

In addition, while asking after ravens, I learned nothing of them, but the following information fell into my lap. 

“There is an apothecary who will accept an apprentice in exchange for a fantastic monster, captured alive.” 

Courtyard Developments 

Upon our return, the courtyard appeared mostly as we left it. Notably, the ravens were eager to see us, or so it seemed, as they chattered at our company. It would seem that our offerings of meat and shiny coin was well met, as they eagerly took to the meat we left. Sadly, no response was given when I inquired of them concerning any new developments. Despite this, I will continue in my quest to make friends of their unkindness.  

Future delvers beware: the rose garden is growing back in, and no doubt will be ready to bloom once more! I can also report that no extra limbs were seen; not an arm or a leg in sight! I collected a sample, and I hope to bring it to an alchemist or botanist in town for a professional opinion. Perhaps an antidote to the sleeping agent can be created? Or perhaps it can be weaponized against the inhabitants of Castle Malevol?  

Once More Through the Garden Shed 

Our company debated at some length about the right approach during this expedition. I left it to my companions to help decide, as I do not wish to come across as too bossy or unkind. They know not of gnomish ways as I know little of how the tall folk conduct themselves. In the end, it was decided we would further our exploration through the secret garden shed door.  

Ghost Bar Developments 

Once more, five patrons were here, posing the same statement, “But that is not the answer the living question!” When I spake at them, the spirits dissolved into ectoplasm. I am unsure if they are true spirits, or simply an echo of the men who once drank in this hall. Perhaps there is a satisfactory reply to the living question? I will keep an ear close to the ground.  

Nursery Room Developments 

When passing through the nursery, we once again could hear the giggling and cooing of ghostly babes. A voice sung a lullaby in an off-key voice. However, when inspecting the cribs, they appeared empty. Spud held a crib for a moment – and I held my breath. However, upon release it resumed a-rocking. The tall thief also reached for the large kitchen knife mounted on the wall. As long and sharp and deadly as a short sword, he plucked it from the wall without any complaint. We counted the daggers mounted on the wall; there appears to be 29. I wonder if there is a significance to that number? ` 

The Big Talking Head 

During our first expedition, Quirky and I made the fast choice to spike this room shut and continue on. I can report that the spike was removed at some point. Explaining the situation to the Paladin, he knew that he must honor his oath and confront the undead who are a source of evil on the Prime Material plane. Let this be a lesson to those of flexible morals – paladins can often be more trouble than they are worth! 

Entering the chamber, Phosphorous and Carl used their divine powers to turn the zombies with prayers of censure. The great floating head stood alone, scowling and projecting a force at the holy warriors. While the seven zombies were easily felled, the large head took a bit more of work, but it also succumbed to masterful sword strikes.  

Of note, Whim attempted the words imparted to us from an earlier rumor. They seemed to have no effect. Secondly, the zombies were polishing about one hundred spears. My gnomish mind does not comprehend the ways of men, for why would they dedicate a room to spear polishing when they have a (formerly) well stocked armoury?  

The Swarm of Severed Hands 

Upon my suggestion, we returned to deal with this chamber as well. Once again, uttered holy words turned the swarm of undead hands, and in turn our party made quick work of them. The glittering thunderhead was a bit more problematic. However, I was able to scoop up the angry little cloud into my sack, and we separated the potion from its watery cell. The cloud we stored in a backpack, hoping to trade it with the alchemist I mentioned earlier in this record.  

Howling in the Halls 

Once more, in this north-south hall, which adjoins the rooms mentioned above, we heard the howling of a wolf or large dog. I should mention, this is about the same as we heard during my first expedition to the halls of this accursed place. Perhaps it is a small spell set to deter intruders? Or maybe an alarm? It is difficult to say.  

Running north-south, the halls turn to east as your approach the northern end. From there, the hallway runs for another thirty feet or so to the east. This terminates in two doors, one on the northeast wall, and one on the southeast.  

The Woodcutter’s Chamber 

The south door opens into a chamber measuring about 30’ x 20’, and included a masked man chained to the wall. He wielded a woodcutters axe, and was at the task of chopping wood.  

While questioning him, he requested that our company, “free me from this torment.”  

However, as we debated how to proceed, a gang of courtiers caught us off guard, and from behind. The leader of these hens, Meredith (Malevol?), bid us to leave the cutter alone, and named him to us as “Blerot.” 

Unfortunately for all, our Paladin was already set in mind and deed. Detecting that this wretch stank of evil, he shut the door. I know not exactly what transpired, but when I later opened this chamber, Blerot the Woodcutter lay dead, his head severed. Perhaps Whim can fill in the details? He was alone with them both. 

While unknown actions transpired behind closed doors, Meredith and the ladies of court grew impatient and curious. After a harsh exchange of words, my remaining companions and I made as if to leave. However, I instead chose to act rashly.  

Drawing upon the arts learned from the Guild, I plunged my longsword between the noble woman’s shoulders, felling her. A melee broke loose, and in the confusion, I broke into the room, notifying Phosphorous and Whim that trouble had found us. The fighting men joined the swirl of melee as Carl turned half of their number. We watched as six of the courtiers fled away.  

The ladies of court fought viciously, long talons attempting to shred flesh from bone, just as the sagging flesh of their own ghoulish faces clung with all might to stay in place. The combat did not last long, and we decimated those that didn’t rout.  

Of Note 

Despite their decomposition, the courtiers had much finery remaing. While the lavendar is pleasant enough, the faint rot must be cleansed to make them saleable. A washing is in order. 

In addition, we recovered the century of spears, and made good to fix them to the Paladin’s warhorse for transport back to town.  

Our alchemist contact accepted the thundercloud, trading the promise of teaching a spell to a magic user of our choosing. In addition, the potion wrested from the cloud turned out to be a love potion. I wonder if it can be traded to Tristano in the courtyard? It is worth finding out, in my small opinion.  

A small locket was snatched from the cleanly severed neck of the woodcutter. Cheaply made, it contains the picture of a beautiful young woman. Could this be a scandal for the Malevols? I wonder.  

Continue with Part Four.

-Daz

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Castle Xyntillan Journal - Part Two

Before you proceed, please understand that this is an in-character record of my gaming notes. Be aware that it contains spoilers for the Castle Xyntillan mega dungeon module. Turn back now.

Start at Part One.

Map of Castle Xyntillan.

The Second Expedition, June 16, 2026 

Two weeks have passed since my previous expedition into the Castle Malevol (I must apologize to the family, as I finally came across materials with which I could confirm the spelling of the name; previous errors will remain intact, as we are learning creatures). 

I have assembled a new party: once more I was joined by Quirky the Elven Fighter. In addition, another fighter was recruited – a human by the name of Whim (“The Almost Wise”). With him came Carl, a human cleric. To which gods he prays I do not know. With them, we paid the coin for a fighting man, Margard, and a torch bearer, Noz.  

Rumours Learned in the City 

We courted and paid the rumor mongers in town, learning the following: 

“There are multiple libraries and laboratories in the castle.” 

“The ancient incantation ‘pho gig’ will keep the lesser undead at bay.” 

Courtyard Developments 

The castle courtyard was mostly as we left it during our previous delve. Notably, the sarcophagus lid was restored to its position. Also, the ravens are still present. I offered them tidbits from my rations. The birds ignored everything save for the jerky. Next time, I will bring them more meat. Whim also suggested shiny trinkets, so I left ten copper coins as we were leaving. It may take time, but I believe I may be able to befriend them, and commune with them as my people do to learn more of the castle and its environs.  

Skeletons in the Stables 

With a larger party, I proposed a plan to deal with the skeletons in the stables. The fighters rushed in, giving us surprise. Two skeletons were hewed down before they could react, evening the odds for our party. They then gained the initiative, wounding Quirky. Carl uttered the censure prayer, turning the rest which we then easily disposed of. Unfortunately, our hired blade Margard fell alongside the animated bones. I will see to it that his family is informed of his death, and I will spare some gold so that the townsfolk know I am a gnome of good disposition as a poor reputation can ruin many things.  

Our fellowship recovered their spears, as well as a full suit of plate mail. Time was taken to clean it, and Whim doffed his ring mail, favoring the greater protection of the hammered steel plate. In exchange, he ventured that he will be the first into rooms to the great acclaim of my companions.  

On the wall hung a poster advertising a bounty for Claude Malevol. No doubt, something “malevolent.” Some three thousand pieces of gold will go to they who can bring in Claude Malevol, dead or alive.  

A trunk also occupied this room. I spend some time examining it before deeming it safe. Inside were more of these posters as I described above. They should make good kindling.  

Lastly, a final ominous discovery. In this chamber we chanced upon a tattered banneret. A gules field featuring a decapitated head. Is this the heraldry of the Malevol family? I will attempt further inquiries.  

From the Eastern Rose Garden Door 

Previously, we took the western door from the Rose Garden into the tool shed, and discovered a secret door. This time we entered the dungeon through the eastern door.  

The first chamber is approximately 50’ by 20’ running north-south. Few things of interest were in this chamber, unless you consider rags and a broken chair leg interesting? Perhaps I’ll have a closer look at it on a future expedition... Besides the entryway, doors exit to the north, east, and south.  

The south door brings you to another chamber that I reckon is once again about 50’ by 20’, while an exit door occupies the south corner.  

Following it leads to a chamber of about 30’ by 30’. There are two doors on the eastern wall. Rotting banners in the same red and severed head (headraldry?) hang by tatters from the walls.  

The southernmost door here opens into a hallway. Our torchlight did not reach its end, and we did not explore further at this time.  

The door above it opens into what appears to be a small armoury. Racks of weapons and armors were present. I am no expert, but they seemed to be in good enough condition. These we bundled up, so that we wouldn’t return to town empty-handed. On my next visit to these ruins, I plan to bring a cart and mule to make carrying our booty much easier. And perhaps a groom to manage the animal? Adventuring costs add up quickly it would seem.  

Four training dummies are also here. We investigated them with spear and ten-foot pole, and they were deemed to not be a threat.  

Notably, a loud banging could be heard. On the western wall are two metal doors. The loud banging seems to be coming from the southern door. My attempts to listen were futile, and we attempted to knock out a rhythm to which a sentient creature might respond. This seemed to do nothing to abate the banging noise from that chamber. 

Smashing the padlock on the northern door, we opened it to see a creature in cell of about 10’ by 10’ and not a hair more. Something like a turtle or armadillo, but with twin tails, pair of antennae and burnt orange scales. Quirky identified it as a rust monster. Knowing what one is from stories my granddad shared, we decided to spike this door shut. It made no movement as we did so, and I am not entirely sure if it was still living. Whim hypothesized about why a create that eats metal would be trapped, but I cautioned that such questions gives one headaches that only good brandy can solve. For now, this mystery remains unsolved.  

The bundles we brought to the broken gate. About halfway through moving the arms and armor, we encountered a fright! A hazy red spectre presented itself, demanding a sacrifice of blood. Thinking quickly, I drew blood from my palm and flung it as an offering to the ghast, which he found pleasing. He bade us, “Hugo counts you as a friend.” Is Hugo one of the Malevols? This bears further investigation.  

While hauling another lot of loot, a gang of servants dressed in livery meandered down the hall. Not one of them bore a head. They advised, “You don’t look like a servant or a master.” We informed them thus that we are friends of Hugo, which they questioned. However, as a keen observer of the tall folk, I understood that servants and lordlings have a one-sided relationship. Bearing this in mind, I chastised the headless man, which snapped him into shape! My advice to future delvers – do not let the help question you. I may not get the World of Men, but I will adapt to their ways as the situation merits. Gold does not care! 

Finally, on our last trip to strip the armoury of its wealth, we once again encountered those black-clad figures; five in total. They made to take our haul, to which we decided to let them. At this point, we didn’t wish for any more trouble. To our nervous surprise, they followed us to the broken gate and placed those goods with the rest. Does this mean they are to be trusted? I do not think as such, and I would suggest to other would-be delvers to accept their help with caution, and watch for a dagger to your back! 

Of Note 

Bring the ravens meat and trinkets. I believe they know things about this castle. It will be worth the time to earn their trust.  

Acquire either a cart, a mule, and perhaps a groom to manage the animal. If there is more loot like that in the armoury, it is simply much too much with which to bother crawlers! Spending coin here is sure to save on future troubles; most notably a free sword arm! 

Continue with Part Three.

-Daz

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Castle Xyntillan Journal - Part One

Before you proceed, please understand that this is an in-character record of my gaming notes. Be aware that it contains spoilers for the Castle Xyntillan mega dungeon module. Turn back now.

Source: Forgotten Realms Wiki

Expeditions to the Ancient Castle Malabeaux 

A true and accurate accounting by Norg Leadbelly, Gnomish Treasure Hunter 

Foreword 

I am Norg Leadbelly, sometimes known as Norg Nine-fingers, and at other times Norg the Tinker, or Norggert Nimblethumb. Some may consider me a petty thief, and while it is true I have done my share of second-story work, I am also a treasure finder and adventurer. 

What follows are the true and accurate accountings of my expeditions into the ruins of Castle Malabeaux. Where possible and reasonable, I recollect my impressions and memories of these ruins. If you have found this, I am dead. Toast to my memory if this memoir aids your adventures. If you have paid for this, I am alive, and you have paid a fair price! No refunds! May Garl Glittergold smile upon you and yours.  

Rumours Learned in the City 

While asking after the castle ruins and surrounding environs in the New City, I heard many tales from a cast of unsavory characters who I am quick to forget. The choicest morsels follow.  

“If you see the sign of the cross, you can rest safely.” 

“The ancient forest cult is working in the mountains, beware the stone circles.” 

“A party recently went out and saw undead monks chanting in a chapel.” 

“Someone sold old wine they scavenged from the castle.” 

“The long-lived Malabeaux family has been producing wine for centuries.” 

The First Expedition, June 2nd 2026 

My first foray into the castle was made with my companion, Quirky the Elf Fighter. She was well provisioned, wielding a halberd, battle axe, and spear she claimed is magical. The Elven Damsel was also appointed with torches and other mundane goods expected of an adventuring companion. She fought well when needed and showed good judgement. A fledgling, I tried my best to impart upon her the importance of mapping and avoiding messy confrontations.  

The Castle Courtyard 

A cobblestone road leads up the castle gate. The gate was destroyed long ago and is a heap of rubble. It is easy enough to climb over, even for one of smaller stature like myself. 

The cobblestone road leads around to the rear of the castle. A bridge or other structure connects at the rear. At this time, it remains unexplored.  

The castle exterior is in disrepair. It is falling apart, mossy, and gargoyle statues and ravens watch the comings and goings. Arrow slits, otherwise known as “murder holes,” survey the inner courtyard. I suspect the ravens are watchers for a power within the castle ruins.  

The north courtyard contained a large, overgrown rose garden. A ten-foot climb is required, but it is easy enough. My companion and I used the ladder from the stable hayloft to make this easier. The garden contained roses that emit a sleeping perfume. Arms and legs were buried here which attempt to trip and disrupt adventurers. Both were burned out with oil and fire. It is no longer a threat.  

To the west of the rose garden is a garden shed. It contains a secret passage into the castle, which I have further detailed in the next section of my notes. Otherwise, the shed contains a variety of garden tools. An exit also leads south, and remains unexplored.  

In the middle north of the courtyard is a pond, shallow and clear enough to be wadable. A small island sits in the middle, with a pavilion at the center. A stone sarcophagus is here. It is inscribed with the name “Tristano Malabeaux.” And inscription reads, “The Love Lost.” An icon of four handprints is on the lid. The prints are the same size. An entity, finely dressed, was loosed upon our first visit. He lamented that he wasn’t brought a woman for courting and took his backpack and left through the ruined gate. If you hear of a four-armed man in your travels, it is likely to be Tristano. I thought him kind, if not odd.  

To the east of the pond is a stone statue of a young woman wearing robes. Her arm is outstretched, and palm upward. Her expression is wistful, and she is classically depicted.   

To the south and east of the pond are two small guard posts. Each post contained one animated skeleton, armed with a halberd. Each was subdued, and relieved of their halberds, to be sold for extra coin. To the east of the posts are large double doors, presumably the main entrance to the castle. At this time, they remain unopened.  

South of the pond is a small garden. The scarecrow is only half intact and is missing its legs. In the garden grow potatoes. The potatoes are unsampled. If you try them, please tell me how they turn out! 

South of the garden are stables. The stables are empty. A refuse pile is there. Disturbed by a ten foot pole, vermin spilled out but nothing more. A ladder leads up to a loft. A saddle bag was found here, containing a bottle of “fiery wine.” Back at town, we were able to identify it as a potion of greater healing. Or was it superior? Either way, it went to my companion, Quirky.  

Connected to the stables is a forge, with a stoked burning fire. Upon entering, a hammer flew at me. Iron ingots were suspended in the air around the forge. Attempting to remove them resulted in the hammer flying at me again. I buried the hammer in the dirt floor of the stable and removed the ingots.  

To the east of the stables is a door. On the other side we found seven animated skeletons. They appeared to be taking target practice with an eighth figure, suspended by rope from the rafters. The figure is wearing plate armor, and the skeletons were taking turns to hurl a spear into the figure’s chest. We remained unnoticed, and I sealed the door with an iron spike. 

Beyond the Secret Door 

Starting in the rose garden shed, you will need a torch.  

The first room contains a bar. We encountered apparitions, engaged in a discussion on what to do with the living. When I stepped out of the shadows to engage them in polite discussion, they melted away into ectoplasm. I recovered a bottle of “ghost gin.” The label says there is enough for three servings. I haven’t mustered the courage to try the spirits. A door leads to the north.  

The door is clearly labeled, “Do Not Disturb.” Inside this room are eight cradles. Before entering, I could hear the sounds of a lullaby being sung, followed by a baby’s laughter. My companion and I passed through, heeding the message of the sign. On the walls hung many daggers. Our imaginations suggested many ways those daggers might react to a disturbance. This chamber exits to the northeast.  

From the nursery you will come into a large hall which runs north to south. About 30 feet north there is a door on the west wall. The hallway continues further north, with another door on the western wall. The hallway turns to the right, too, and continues eastward until it turns to the south. We did not explore further in that direction. While in the hallway, we could hear the cry of a wolf. Sadly, pinpointing the direction of the howl was impossible, as the cry seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.  

The first door north of the nursery contains what appears to be an armoury. Seven rotting, standing bodies polish spears. An enormous floating head, the size of a boulder, floats here observing the maintenance. We were able to exit before being noticed until the last moment, when it called out a query, “What are you doing here?” I spiked the door shut and we were not pursued.  

North of the armoury was a room containing a multitude of things. Fluttering white sheets at the walls, framing a swarm of severed hands. The hands are chasing after a sparkling small thunder cloud. At the center of this thunderhead is a purple heart-shaped bottle. My companion and I both tried to snatch it up with sacks, but to no avail. We managed to flee.  

The hallway also heads southward before turning a corner to the east. Rounding this corner, I espied a group of men in finery. Sneaking close, I eavesdropped on their conversation. The five men were plotting to create a scandal against the performer Matricia Malabeaux. Their plan is to ruin her performance by mistuning a piano key to make it appear that she made an error in her performance. It is unknown when the performance is to take place.  

Of Note 

When leaving the castle grounds, we encountered a small party of man-sized figures. There were four or five. Our torches extinguished, no features could be made out in the darkness. They appeared to be covered from head to toe in heavy clothing. Hugging the walls of the bar room, they passed us by and continued into the nursery. By Garl’s glittering beard, I am thankful for this.  

The halberds and ingots were sold for twenty pieces of gold, which were split evenly with my companion. I gifted her the healing wine, and I retained the gin. 

Continue with Part Two.

-Daz

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January 27, 2026

 It has been a hell of a time, y'all. We had a huge winter storm here in Texas (and across the country, I know), which shut things down for a few days as we waited for the ice to thaw. Just today I got out and shoveled the remaining ice and slush from my driveway so that we can get my daughter to school. 

On top of that, my entire family succumbed to a bug that's been going around -- it was horrible and I don't recommend the experience whatsoever. I was laid up in bed for two solid days. I didn't eat and could barely drink but thankfully my partner nursed me through it. I'm still not 100% but I definitely am feeling a lot better (NyQuil helps). 

I've been thinking about what is the "best" one shot to introduce players to a game like Dungeons and Dragons and its ilk. With some many systems out there, I think it's hard to choose. Even D&D has six editions from which to choose, which to me just complicates things further. I like 5e, but I also think it's overly complex in areas where that's not needed. 

I also really like 1e and 2e, probably because those are what I grew up playing. And of course, there are modern options like OSE, Shadowdark (a personal favorite), DCC, and so forth. Each has its own complications and advantages, which doesn't really make things any easier, sadly. 

There has been zero progress with 40K second edition materials. I still need to get a printer cartridge. I meant to order one, but I forgot. I'm going to try and pick one up tomorrow when we stop by the big box store after school drop off. I want to make strategy cards. In addition, I need to print Ork psychic powers, and whatever powers Dave will need for his Crimson Fists. I'm not looking forward to that, I'll be honest, as space marines have access to some of the best powers in second edition, probably behind the Eldar. I also need to make a warp deck, and I've been thinking of how to do that with playing cards. If not, I'll just make some and sleeve them in penny sleeves, which should get me by. Lastly, I want to order some tokens and templates that I've seen on eBay and Etsy that look nice. I'd like to also make the other hand outs, but I'm trying to keep things focused on the essentials for the time being. 

No painting has been done since last week, as I've been either too sick or busy or motivated to sit down and get it done. However, I'm not going to let that sit idle for too long. There are things on my desk I want to finish up. In addition, I will need two minderz for my Weirdboy so I need to make something happen. I have a couple of monopose ork boyz left, and I'm thinking of lightly converting them and giving them back banners to make them special. 

-Daz

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