Recap: Episodes 1–20

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Welcome in, everybody. I'm Jasper, and I play Ruby Pedagru on the show. If you've been listening to Dungeons and Randomness for a while, you may have heard me playing a handful of characters across more than a decade of stories in theory. More on Ruby later. Today's a little different. We're taking a short break from our regular episode release to do some catching up. This recap covers the first 20 or so episodes of Frostborn. If you haven't been with us from the very start, or if it feels daunting to dive headfirst into hours and hours of storytelling, don't worry.

This is for you. Consider it the previously on for the last several months of adventuring. A way to get the shape of the story without having to binge the whole back catalog. So, if you're new here, this is Dungeons and Randomness. We've been telling stories together in the world of Theria for well over a decade now. Epic adventures, big consequences, and more than a few disasters caused by. Well, I was going to say rolling crit fails, but it's mostly just our decisions. Theria is our setting. A massive, dangerous, ever-shifting world where every decision sticks and every roll of the dice really matters.

Right now, we're in our latest campaign, arc 6, called Frostborn. It's a brand-new jumping in point. You don't need to know the previous arcs to enjoy it, though long-time listeners will hear echoes and callbacks all across the world. Frostborn starts more than a century after the last. major arc and the continent of Elara has been locked in an endless winter for almost that long. That's where our story begins. Before we dive into our group's questionable decision-making, let's set the stage, because it's not just fantasy but cold. This is a continent fundamentally broken by one dragon's grief.

Over a century ago, Aruthamar, the great black dragon of Orash, watched her dream burn. She'd spent years building a society where dragon-born of every color could finally live together, carving a home into the hazon mountains. Dragons perched above the peaks like watchtowers. For a moment, it looked like peace. Naturally, the archmages of Uminero, a floating city close by, looked at all that stability and said, You know what would make this better? An unprovoked preemptive strike. Because when you're a floating city of wizards, apparently restraint isn't part of the spellbook.

They failed. Arutamar lived, but one of her most trusted counselors died in the blast, and grief is a dangerous thing when you're a dragon, the size of a cathedral. She unleashed what's now called the long roar. The sky tore open, storms scream down, and an endless winter blanketed the continent. Not just a bad year of crops, not even Game of Thrones Winter is coming, stuff. This is forever. and forever changes everything. Winterhaven locked itself under a magical dome. Safety inside, frostbite out. Brightport doubled down on industry. Coal, steam, smog, progress you can choke on.

The elves and the orcs of the evergreen did something no one expected. They stopped killing each other and built a shared culture. The dwarves of stone sunder forged so deep, they scarred the orclans with molten runoff, creating grudges that could outlast the snow And a rash? Still there. Still towered over by dragons. The black shadow hasn't been seen in years, but her magic keeps the land frozen. Some whisper she's dying. Others whisper she's waiting. Either way, nobody wants to check. So that's the backdrop. Cities clinging to survival, caravans vanishing in the snow, and people trying to carve out hope.

Enter our adventurers. Now, in most stories, this is where Noble here, rise up to meet destiny. In Frostborn, not so much. Our crew are survivors, opportunists, sometimes criminals, and usually two steps away from setting something on fire. Their leader, Logrin Kragborn, is a disgraced dwarf marshal trying to redeem his clan. Nithera Rialith, an elven rogue, carries shadows in her past and ends up everyone's reluctant mom. Chimera, a teafling warlock, has the world's snarkiest demon whispering in his ear. And Ruby Pedigrew, my character, is a half-hork orphan from Brightport, who's basically MacGyver if MacGyver left gadgets, bad whiskey, and saying the quiet part out loud.

Together, they step out of Winter Haven, not just to survive, but to matter, to find relics, forge alliances, and maybe, just maybe, change the world. Will they? Unclear. But along the way, they will definitely, one, nearly burn down an apothecary while shopping. Two, get stalled by goblins with very strong opinions. Three, adopt orphans like their Pokemon. Four, and insist repeatedly that what they're doing is not a heist. Spoiler, it's absolutely a heist. That's Frostborn in a nutshell. Epic steaks dressed up in ridiculous moments, heartbreaking choices sandwich between pratfalls.

The winter is endless. The dangers are real. but the dice love to betray them. And somehow that's half the fun. One last thing before we begin. This recap is spoilers. All spoilers. That's the whole point. If you'd rather experience Frostborn Fresh, stop right here and jump straight into episode one. But if you're still here, strap in. Because the next 20 episodes are a ride. Every bad plan, every buried artifact, every deal struck in desperation. It all feeds into something bigger. And if there's one thing this world has taught us, it's that consequences stick.

And our party, they are very, very good at making consequences. So let's start with the first few episodes. We begin under glass, sort of. Winter Haven sits inside a magical dome like a snow globe someone refuses to stop shaking, except the snows on the outside. inside crowded streets, cabbage-adjacent stew, and people pretending that permanent winter is just a phase. Outside, instant frostbite, and a 70% chance of being eaten by something with too many teeth. So that's where our crew, Logrin, Nythera, Chimera, and Ruby, takes its first step, and immediately trips into Destiny's coffee table.

The plan is simple. Secure a base outside the dome, stock up, and try not to anger any local gods before lunch. What could go wrong? Quite a lot, actually. First, the base. Logrin negotiates with a weary old dwarf name Cable Cinnamon Grimblehoof for the deed to a crumbling fort. It's a fixer-upper in every sense. Drafty, snow-bitten, a relic from the Weizan River conflict, but it's theirs. Seven thousand gold later, the Craigborn clan and this group has a foothold again. On the way out, a goblin named Grimble attaches himself to the party, utterly fixated on 9th era.

He's small, loud, and has the unnerving smile of someone who's been told smiling makes people like you, but never actually tested it in a mirror. He'll keep showing up, sometimes for comic relief, sometimes not. Then comes shopping. We stroll into the bottomless bottle, an apothecary run by Lester, young, earnest and profoundly unprepared for us. Logran makes a dramatic shield slam entrance that, thanks to a natural one, almost levels the place. Potions cascade, fire erupts, poison gas fills the air. In Frostborn terms, this is our very first shopping trip.

But here's the thing about Logran. He can turn a natural one into a crit. By the time the smoke clears, we don't just walk out with potions. We walk out with half the inventory, a fire traumatized but loyal supplier, and the beginnings of a business arrangement. Disaster into dividends. That's a frostborn theme. Quick side note here. You've heard chimera's name, but not Colgoth. Colgoth is his patron, a shadowy fiend who sometimes manifests with long, blackened hands creeping over chimera's shoulders, like the creepiest clingiest partner you've ever had.

Power wrapped in possession, menace wrapped in intimacy. It's a toxic relationship made literal. Remember the name. Colgoth is always in the room, even if he isn't. And just before leaving Winterhaven entirely, Logren makes one more stop, at the door of Tealben, an eccentric ex-archmage in hiding. Her home is equal parts magical ward and hoarder's nest, complete with mushrooms growing in the couch and more cats than sense. Tealben gives Lagrin what he came for, the beginnings of a components list. Now, here's where I step out. the timeline for a second.

This list is important. We don't get the full what until much later in episode 19, but you need to know that Logrin has a plan with a little TM next to that. It's not a whim, not an impulse. It's a plan he's been recruiting for piece by piece for years. First, he hired Ruby, then he hired Nithera, then Chimera, all because he needed a team to help make this plan real. The component list is the skeleton key. At the time, he hired It looks like impossible errands. Adamantite, pure gold, or, wear beast, teeth. Gemstones the size of your fist. A demon horn. But keep it in mind.

The purpose comes later. Then we hit the road. The fort, which we call Fort Frostborn, when we reach it, is not move in ready. Think less castle and more drafty collection of regrets with a courtyard. As we're surveying the wreckage, a sled skids across the frozen lake, near us. Inside, a dead courier and an orcish baby. Only, it isn't just a baby. It's something far more. A demigod. At least something close enough to make the Brugall's arrival feel like destiny. Handing the child over was always the plan. But in this world, always the plan does it mean guaranteed not to end in slaughter.

The orcs could have killed us all just for the insult of touching their godborn. Instead, again, Lagerin pulled off something else entirely. He found a way to secure a huge part of his larger plan early, and chimera found a new friend in the process. Fade to Black, indeed. Not long after, the Cobalt's test us. Slings, fire, and a brood guard smashing through our walls. The fort nearly collapses around us, but somehow it doesn't. And in the chaos, Grimble dives in to save Nithera's mug. That mug and that goblin are not going anywhere. Eventually, the rest of the caravan arrives.

The settlers who helped bankroll this entire venture, and they are, let's say, unimpressed. This isn't the gleaming stronghold they were promised. It's a frozen ruin with smoke still curling from the rafters. We do what we can to get them settled, make sure they're sorted out, and then high-tail it. Because, like I said, Logrin has a plan trademark, and he's driven, very driven. When the smoke clears, the fort still stands, if only out of state, because, like I said, Logrin has a plan, trademark. spite. The settlers move in. Defenses are promised. We're bloodied but alive.

And, importantly, we've got a truce, a goblin, and a mysterious shopping list that's going to shape everything to come. And that's kind of act one. A fort claimed, an apothecary nearly torched but turned to gold, a demigod baby handed back to her people, and a line in the ice drawn in dwarven blood. We're out from under the dome. We're on the board. And the winter is paying attention. By the time the fort was patched together and the demigod baby handed over, the party was ready to hit the road toward Aubrey, which, if you know, Lagrin, meant plans, maps, disguises, and at least two speeches about why this was absolutely not a social call.

Aubrey was Logrin's old home, the one he swore never to see again. again until he could prove he hadn't failed his clan. That's baggage you don't just tuck into a travel sled. But before the road, before Aubrey, before any of that, came a party, and at that party came algae. Algae? The hallucinogen wasn't some random herb. It was algae, scraped up from a strange glowing pond the party had passed on their way north. Ruby, ever the tinkerer, had stuffed some into her kit. Kimer of course saw opportunity. To him, it was more than recreation. Colgoth, his shadowy patron, delights in moments where mortals blur the line between control and surrender.

A haze of poison, fear, or visions, it's all a feast to the fiend. So on the eve of departure, Chimera pitched the idea. Ruby needed little convincing. Nithera and Lagrin refused the mom in doubt of the group, watching their two chaotic siblings, wander into trouble. The algae burned bitter on the tongue. Soon, Ruby and Chimera were lost in strange perceptions, laughing at nonsense only they could see, while Colgoth loomed behind Chimera with quiet satisfaction, like the world's creepiest life coach. Outside, Lagerin and Nithera stood guard, listening to muffled babble.

Their reckless, Lagerin muttered, and their hours, Nithera replied. By dawn, Kimer and Ruby woke refreshed, sharper somehow, with only the faintest. taste of beeswax lingering. Foolish, absolutely. But like so many things in Frostborn, it left them stronger, or at least more entertaining to watch. The road to Aubrey. The trip was tense. Aubrey loomed only a few days away, and Logren was dreading it. He muttered about disguises, braids, hair dye. Chimera swore he could work up a cover identity. Grimblehoof, maybe. Ruby quietly noted, she could sneak him through alleys and shadows once they were inside.

Night Thera promised to keep them all hidden. But Logrin's nerves were written in every step. Going back meant admitting failure. Or worse, being seen before the plan was ready. He's like the guy insisting, this isn't a date, while putting on Cologne. Then there were wolves. Tension broke in the worst way. A graveyard dug up earth and two hulking winter wolves. Massive, white as the snow, eyes glowing with arcane frost. The fight was vicious. Nithera darted in first, landing critical strikes that left even seasoned warriors staring. Ruby activated her mechanical boots, the Velocis Springs, and vaulted off of Lagrin's shield, crashing down with her gauntleted fizz like a living ballista.

Chimera's curses twisted the battlefield as fire erupted from his hands, and Logren, he planted his shield, barreled through frost breath, and shoulder-checked wolves ten feet back like it was football practice. By the time the last wolf collapsed, the snow was scorched, the ground-painted red, and the group left half in awe of Nithera's efficiency and half-chearing Ruby's acrobatics. The wolves should have been too much for a level two party, but in Frostborn, should-of is basically the game's tagline. Then came the gunshot. From the mausoleum, a desperate shot rang out, aimed straight at Nithera.

It missed. Badly. The man behind it swore fumbled with the reload and quickly realized he was doomed. Enter Eddie. Mid-40s, scraggly, desperate, a grave robber caught in the act, armed with a gun he could barely use. His story tumbled out. He was trying to feed his family, scraping by on grave goods and wolf pelts. He offered a sack of tarnished rings and jewelry all ill-gotten, but he's desperate. He offered information, a weapons cache, hidden in a cave nearby. He even offered his settlement. its location, a half-day south of Aubrey. The party could have killed him.

They didn't. Instead, we did something stranger. We empathized. We gave him wolf meat to take back. Chimera palmed one of the prettiest rings. Ruby tinkered with a gun, oiled it, fixed the sights, and handed it back, like a mechanic giving a scolding and a second chance. Eddie, nearly in tears, thanked him. I'm not a bad guy, he insisted, just trying to eat, and for once, they believed him. He left alive, shaky, better than he arrived. The party left two carrying more than loot, a new contact, a potential ally, again, and another thread in the tapestry of consequences.

Or at least one more NPC they can call in a pinch. That night, along a stony path, Ruby spotted what she had always wanted, her first ghost. Bound within a glowing circle, armored and massive, its sewn-shut-mouthed straining to speak. Chimera warned against engaging, but Ruby approached anyway, treating it like a side-show curiosity. To her delight, the ghost communicated through gestures, clutching its chest, pointing towards a cave below the broken bridge. Green lights traced a path into the canyon. Ruby was ecstatic. Logrin and Ruby bickered endlessly about engineering the rope bridge safe enough to descend, while Nithera and Chimera just calmly walked a long way around.

In the cavern, crude but hard-fired. felt murals lined the walls, a lineage of the Sarah family. All dead the same day centuries earlier. Logren stone cutting confirmed the carvings were rushed by a single hand. Deeper within, they found the source, the skeletal body of the ghost, lashed in silver wire on a slab, its still beating hard kept apart on a dais. And in the walls, entombed family members stirred faintly with magic. Ruby then heard the voice of Elsa Sarah, the last survived. who had bound both murderer and kin alike in vengeance. She demanded the punishment endure forever.

Ruby relayed Elsa's words like a kid whispering into a tin can while Nithera stepped forward. Drawing on her own history of loss, Nithera pleaded that Elsa's obsession only chained her family to suffering. At last, the chorus of skeletal voices relented, all pointing to the heart. Ruby sprinted forward, snatched the pulsing organ and with a giddy grin slammed in. into the corpse's chest. The chamber convulsed. Stitches bursting, a shriek ripping through the cave, and then sudden silence. The Sarah family's souls tore free in an implosive rush. The bitterness finally dissipating.

Outside the binding circle lay empty, save for a necklace of serrated reptilian teeth glowing faintly in the snow. Ruby pressed it to her chest and whispered, by ghost. She affixed it proudly to her gear, a memento of her first. A momento of her first. haunting, and a token of thanks. By the time they regrouped at camp, the companions realized the ordeal had tempered them all. They'd leave the cave behind stronger, wiser, and level three, which is basically frostborn for the dice are only going to hurt worse from here. The road to Aubrey came with baggage, mostly Lagerens.

He finally admitted why he swore never to return. The Kragborns, his clan, were scapegoated for a forged disaster. Exiled in shame, and he left vowing not to come back until he could prove himself. Now he's sneaking in disguised as generic dwarf number four. Along the way, the party rescued Megan the Maskmaker from a snowbank. She never stopped talking, but dropped the critical clue. Arbeck, Stone Sunder, also known as Ed. lives at the bottom of a mug in Bonzo's, Aubrey's infamous gear-cluttered tavern. Inside the city, everything was wrong. Outside, blizzard.

Inside, spring day, spotless streets, silent heralds and white hoods judging every move. Ruby sweated through a coat. Lagerun nearly cracked a tooth. Nithera and Ruby slipped off and after some alley work, found Vetti, a teafling teen who recognized Nitha's old assassin alias, Raven's Breath, and nearly blew her cover. That he loaned them a medallion granting access to Aubrey's restricted vault of knowledge in the big library. Big win, even if Colgoth can't know why. More on that later. Logrin and Chimera found Ed exactly where promised, drunk, puking, and building himself a trash pile thrown.

Between gulps, he revealed the truth. The current ruler of Stone Sunder. Grimhorn, staged a coup, poisoned Namara stone-sunder into a coma, and pinned the forge failure on the cragboards. Eb called it sabotage. Logren called it bullshit. Before fist could fly, Harold's stormed in and dragged Ebb off in chains. The party regrouped outside Bonzo's. Logren fuming, chimera smoothing, Ruby grinning, Nithera flashing the medallion. Aubrey is clean, bright, religious, and deadly, and the plan is only just beginning. So Aubrey gave the party plenty already, Ebb's drunken ramblings, Vetti the Fang Girl, and a medallion into the forbidden stacks.

But right about now is where the shopping list truly came into focus. Back the end, the group cracked open a salvaged bottle Colgoth had improved, into turbo wine. Over cheap glasses and bad cork work, they spread the list. Vampire blood, werewolf teeth, powder dragon breath, gemstones, greater demon horn, again, a lot. Nythera insisted the library was their best chance at answers. Logren growled warnings. Ruby all but bounced at the idea of forbidden books. Chimera smirked and kept pouring. The next morning, Ruby got her wish, not the library, but Aubrey's most chaotic theme restaurant.

Bonzos. Imagine a chuck-e-chee cheese run by artificers with ADHD. Train sets rattling overhead, foamed topped coffee that never runs out, exploding onions, arcade cabinets, staff screaming catchphrases. Ruby was in heaven, powdered sugar on her face and a new t-shirt before 10 a.m. Logrin and Naira shared the silent. I regret everything, look across the table. Kimer basked in the chaos. Kolgoth practically wireless charged off the excess. Once fed, the team got serious. They sketched out routes. Estherhold, Fair Bay, Lockford, maybe even Brightport, miles and miles and miles, and weeks of walking and bargaining stood between them and the pieces of Logren's big plan.

Along the way, maybe check in with the Brugall again, avoid doomhurst if possible, and definitely don't go treasure hunting in Uminio unless you like dying and glowing labyrinths. Still, the stack of options mattered. Maybe werewolf teeth in Lockford. Maybe gems in Fairbay. Dragon rumors near Brightport and in Aubrey itself, temptation in the form of Genners Galore, the city's most secure jewelry store. A perfect place to make a purchase. Not a heist. Definitely not a heist. chimera already had forged paperwork tucked in his coat just in case. Tension spiked when the group realized Colgoth might know other demons worth shaking down for horns.

Ruby muttered, if he's got two, he can share one. Nithera quietly started plotting research on how to unbind a grand demon like this, should Chimera ever want out. And when the conversation turned to gates and portals, fast-travel shortcuts across Theria, Nithera dropped the bomb. She actually knew where one was. deep in the evergreen. Unreliable since the long roar, however, sometimes fatal, but still an option. By the end of the planning session, the group had a rough road map south. First to Esther Holt, then on to Fair Bay, Lockford, a medallion and a plan to raid the restricted library for information.

Chimera's forgeries, ready if they wanted to shop in a jewelry store, a very loud breakfast receipt, and Loggins guarantee that if anyone did something stupid, he would absolutely say I told you so. Because in Frostborn, every conversation eventually circles back to the same refrain. It's not a heist. Probably. Moving on, we planned on leaving Aubrey quietly. of course, things never go to plan. Nathira had to return the medallion to her teen fan club. The would-be-be- assassins and criminals hiding in Aubrey's alleys. She wanted to go alone. The rest of the party said absolutely not.

So the whole crew followed her into what turned into the world's weirdest, scared straight program. Before they even got there though, a priest flagged them down in the street. Classic Aubrey move, charity pitch that turns into a paid gig. He claimed the city had been hit by muscular glistening thieves. He lingered on muscular a little too long, but whatever, and offered something like 10,000 gold if the party could bring them in. The heralds had already caught one, locked up under the church. The priest trusted the party instantly, handed over a hefty per diem, and even gave chimera a holy pendant that literally burned in his palm.

That's not a metaphor. It left a mark. Colgoth was delighted. Down in the dungeon, the party met Felix. 20-something, long hair, abs for days, shackled to a chair. The heralds had roughed him up, but clearly didn't break him. Ruby cracked his cuffs in seconds. Logrin covered the group's exit by bluffing the guards with official business. Felix swore he wasn't a hardened criminal, just trying to shield his crew of bored Aubrey kids from the noose. He even offered proof, a tattoo that morphed into a glowing map of their hideout. Yes, his magic tattoo is cooler than yours.

So the hideout turned out to be a sewer clubhouse full of teens with more attitude than sense. There's Vetti, my fear is number one fan girl. nearly passed out meeting her idol. Chet, the knife-waving wannabe leader, oozed a 17-year-old, you can't tell me what to do, energy. Ora, the smooth-talking brains of the budge. And then Basilisk, a looming Goliath, who said little, but made Lagrin shield look small. They called themselves the jackals. It's just trying out a name, though everyone else in the room strongly disagreed. The kids wanted to make a name for themselves by pulling a big job, Aubrey.

They were bored. The party pointed out this was basically a death wish. Heralds don't arrest. They erase. Tensions ran high until Nithera, mask off, patience on, laid down the truth. They could tag along south, with the rest of the group, but under strict rules. Hyde when told, fight when told, and maybe learn something that doesn't end with glistening abs in chains. Against all odds, this group agreed. That he squished. chet's sulked. Baselisk grumbled something supportive. Just like that, Frostborn picked up four teenage interns. Because if there's one thing this world needed, it's more consequences.

By the time they were done, the kids were outfitted like bargain-bin adventurers, functional, if not fashionable. Ruby argued for health potions around their necks like lunch money and Lagerin reluctantly paid up. Now, Nithera and Ruby made the rounds at Aubrey's Cathedral. They scope relics, admire the architecture, and O casually noted that a three-foot demon horn was bolted to the wall. Definitely not important. Just a giant component on the mysterious shopping list. Loggering keeps folding and unfolding like it's a love letter. For now, just reconnaissance only.

They also collected the rest of their job well-done money. 8,000 gold. Enough to retire. Enough to tempt even Ruby to whisper, We can't carry this forever. Logger encountered by pointing at the list. Priorities. Now, back to handsome Felix. He bowed out gracefully, staying behind to handle his own responsibilities. But not before the party entrusted him with a fat purse of gold and a sack of candy to deliver to Fort Frostborn. Trusting a former prisoner with their nest egg might seem questionable, but hey, he's hot, he's polite, and Ruby actually likes him.

That's basically a reference check. Then came the real trial. Travel with four teenagers. Snow blindness, numb fingers, constant boot complaints. Nithera mother hended them through it, teaching scarf tricks and glove layering. Logrin corrected Chet's lopsided tent stakes without crushing his ego. Chimera distracted aura with card tricks and talk of fortune-telling. Ruby muttered about buying more candy. Somehow the party had patience. Just as camp settled, a foul odor crept from the trees. Camara lit a flare. Shadows moved. Two hulking wear rats lunged out of the darkness.

The fight was absolute chaos. Orra swung her saber for the very first time. Crit failed and immediately got ragdolled into the snow, nearly killed in one bite. Nithara stepped in like a professional assassin, shaking off rust, dropping one rat with a poisoned precision. Ruby cracked the other with her nose. gaimera lit up with fire and glogran barked orders like a drill sergeant and then chet angsty brooding sword too big for him chet rolled a crit and nearly split the last rat's skull in two one swing beginner's luck but try telling him that now when the snow settled aura was alive but scared the group were wide-eyed and shaking and the party was left staring at each other with the unspoken question do we really just take four miners into the wilderness during wear rat season?

The answer? Yes, and now there's no going back. You'd think one night in the snow would settle the group down after ORA's bite. Nope, instead we launched straight into Ware Rat Triage 101. Ora's arm looked bad, not just a scar, but spider-webbing black lines under the skin. The adults do the truth. This could be like Anthropies. Cut the arm off, maybe. Wait and pray, risky. Find the queen and get her blood. Best odds. Ruby and Nithera played Dr. Meets therapist keeping aura steady. Ruby even handed her a broken little gadget, a proximity bell that never quite worked, and told her she wasn't broken either, just unfinished.

Meanwhile, Logrin gave Chet the talk. Not the last time he does that, by the way. And not the birds and bees one. The, here's how you rip teeth out of a dead monster. very Very bad. Back to the wear rat problem. Travel south and the party spotted a canyon, a nest entrance, and two rats dragging meat inside. That's when the group huddled up. The facts were clear. Ware rat queens are huge, plague-ridden, and don't go on strolls. Their nests are mazes. The only real cure for aura was in that queen's blood. Cue debate. Do we risk it? Walk away. Try surgery with a hatchet.

The kids overheard. Ora shaken but stubborn lifted her chin. and said, let's go kill the fucking bitch. Consensus reached. Plans flew. Pit traps, poison spikes, maybe collapsing the cave. Then Vetti, bless her sticky fingers, pulled out the world's worst-kept secret, a stolen bottle of major alchemist fire. Not your standard adventurer's napalm. This is basically C4 in a bottle. Everyone stared. Ruby nearly cried with pride. Ora won upter. She tinkered with Ruby's broken gadget. and in a flash of genius, attuned it to react to wear rat blood. Suddenly, the team had a proximity trigger for their bomb.

Ruby lost ten minutes to an excited engineering spiral. So, here's the play. Dig a pit just outside the nest entrance. Lace it with blankets, snow, camouflage, bait the rats with sound illusions, chimera conjuring dying sheep because, of course, when they fall in, the bell-primed alchemist fire goes off. And it worked. Four young wear rats. sprinted out, hungry for easy prey, and plunged into the hole. The bottle ignited, the canyon shook, fire belched skyward like a dragon sneezing napalm. What was left of those rats wasn't worth describing. Trapped didn't just work.

It announced the frostborn crew to the entire canyon like a magical flare, which is fine because subtlety has never been their strong suit. Well, the smoke cleared, the ice crackled, and Longrin adjusted his cold weather shades like a dwarven action hero. Then, with all the gravitas of a man leading teens into mortal danger, he said, let's go kill the queen. Cue the cliffhanger. Everything up to now had been warm-ups. Now, Frostborn's first true boss fight. The party descended into the queen's lair, past rat nurseries and walls slick with disease. The stench was so bad and Ithair stuffed in her mask, Logren settled for jerky under his mustache.

When they finally saw the queen, she was massive. A bloated wear-rat queen with pustules big enough to have their own zip codes. She wasn't alone. Her skin rippled with smaller rats hiding in folds. Discussing doesn't even cover it. The kids jumped in faster than they should have. Vetti loosed arrows like she'd been born to it. Chet charged with his oversized sword managing to land real blows. Ruby activated her ghost-gifted tyrant's teeth for the first time, spectral jaws snapping over her gauntlets as she drew. rove punches deep into the disease flesh.

Nithira struck true with her poison blades. The one bad swipe rupt her to puschul and blinded her in gore. Chimera kept the field lit with fire, his shadow patron looming tall behind him like it was co-casting every spell. The queen retaliated with psychic shrieks, falling stalactites, and one gut-churning breath attack that dropped Baz and nearly killed aura. Chet, Evercocky, got chomp so hard he would have died under normal rules. Instead, he collapsed. unconscious, pride wounded almost as much as his ribs. Surrounded on all sides, the queen tried to armor herself by inflating her boils.

Ugh, it didn't work. Ruby slammed home a final strike, the ghostly maw of tyrant's teeth snapping shut. The queen fell bursting into a swarm of squealing rats that scattered into the snow. Nithera harvested the blood needed to cure aura, confirming she had been infected after all. Baz survived. Chet got dragged back from death store, and the teens officially had their first brush with what real adventuring feels like. Messy, terrifying, and not at all glamorous. The adults didn't say it out loud, but they all thought the same thing leaving that cavern.

Maybe bringing teenagers into a wear rat hive wasn't our best idea. Fresh out of the rat queen's lair, the party reeked of gore, pus, and victory. We had the cure ready to go for ORA, just a little bit more work to do. And Chet had paid the price, torn nearly to ribbons, saved only by dice luck and some good conscience. Which meant it was time for Lagrin to do the most terrifying thing any dad can do. Be quiet on the walk home. The kind of quiet that makes kids sit up straighter and promise God they'll never touch the thermostat again. Once camp was made, Logren gathered the group.

No yelling, no theatrical. just a folded arm monologue about trust, discipline, and not sprinting faced first into death. It was the dreaded, I'm not mad, I'm disappointed speech. Chet, still bleeding, looked like he'd rather fight another queen. When he finally stammered out, I don't like feeling useless. Lager and clapped him on the shoulder and dropped the line of the night. Things are always out of your control. Pick your spots. It landed harder than a crit. Meanwhile, Chimera tried to brew Orr's cure out of the rat blood. like some hellish episode of chopped.

Every batch turned purple. Every sniff got worse. Cole got whispered unhelpful advice from the shadows. Ora hovered anxiously, and Ruby sat too close, offering backseat brewing tips like, maybe less lilac? Eventually, Ora herself lent a touch of luck, and, miracle of miracles, the veins cleared. She wasn't going to turn. Cue the hugs, cheers, and Ruby sulking because she'd slept through the big moment. Before leaving the den, the crew scavenged lute. A bladed boomerang, universally agreed, too dumb to live, but that's neither here nor there. A composite bow, an assassin's gauntlet straight out of Assassin's Creed.

Logrin held on to the shinies until he was sure the kids wouldn't cut their head and heads off. Ruby naturally pocketed as many disease rat teeth as she could carry. Back at camp, everyone hit level four. Ruby got faster hands, chimera got smoother lies, Nithera picked up a cipher and a new maneuver, and Logran beefed up his constitution like the world's grumpy Jimrat. The teens too grew stronger, though Chet's permanent scar now tells a quieter story about charging in head first. Then came the storm. A hail of ice chunks, the size of fist, hammered the tundra.

Tents become shields, cloaks become tarps, Constitution saves become family-bonding exercises. By sheer grit and one miraculous re-roll, the whole group pressed through, battered but victorious, and just in time to hear a new danger. Harpy, side. drifted across the snowy hills, sweet and strange. Fetty and Nitha's eyes glaze over, their feet carrying them toward the voices. By the time the rest of the party noticed, everyone was already walking towards into a feathered ambush. So, suddenly, two of the party's glass cannons, Nithera and Vetti, were wandering towards the music from these harpies, like they were late for a concert.

Harpies. Great singers, terrible babysitters. Before the group could panic, Ruby calmly raised her wrist balista, rolled a crit, and nearly blew a harpy elder's head off in one shot. The ringing in that harpy skull broke the charm instantly. Lesson, Ruby doesn't miss. He doesn't even stop running to aim. The fight that followed was a beautiful mess of teamwork. Chimer cursed one elder and cooked another with flaming hands and a conjured fireball that chased them across the battlefield. Nithera, furious at having her will stolen, gutted Harpies with her new assassin's gauntlet.

Logron hammered one out of the sky, then used his inspiring leader ability to buff the kids like a proud and slightly terrifying dad at a little league game. Even Baz's got his moment, shadowing Ruby's moves, darting in with kicks that actually landed. Chet, bless him, had a flash of glory, swinging that oversized sword true before one of the Harpy elders crit him into the snow. That's two knockouts in his many fights. Lagrin says it's just picking your spots. Everyone else is quietly shopping for armor. The last harpy elder tried to turn the tide with another charm song, but chimera answered with full-on infernal pirate techniques.

Fire in the back, fire in the front, and one very crispy soprano dropped smoking into the snow. Curtain closed. The kids celebrated cautiously. Vetti beaming tried a new stunt she'd been practicing in her head, rolling over Nithera's back mid-combat to land a sneak attack. It worked. Thore ruffled her hair like a proud mentor. Ruby immediately demanded they teach her too. Baz, meanwhile, strapped on a mess of scavenged armor and managed to terrify Lagrin just by standing silently behind him. Progress. That night, camp was quieter. Chet sulked convinced he was dragging the group down.

The others argued over whether he needed encouragement, armor, or both. And somewhere in the fog of the tundra, the caravan they were trying to catch was waiting. Well, waiting. and not alive. But that's next. Despite the party's victory over the harpies, there was no time for celebration. South along the trade route, the caravan they'd hoped would mean rest and resupply lay eerily still. Wagons shattered. Bodies and horses frozen where they fell. And the strangest thing, nothing was missing. Not a single chest cracked open, not one coin purse cut. Whoever hit this caravan, wasn't there to rob.

They were there to kill or to find something. As we searched, Chimera's warlock senses started buzzing. There in the snow was a dark sigil. Arcane burned into the frost like a scar. The moment he engaged with it, his mind stretched like a rubber band pulled to breaking. His warlocking kicked in whether he wanted it to or not, and suddenly he wasn't standing there with us anymore. He was in it. He was in it. The world around him blurred and burned, and then the massacre replayed before his eyes like a demonic augmented reality headset. He saw spectral hunters, arcane inhuman shapes, warriors, moving like shadows given form.

They weren't there for plunder, they were searching, hunting for something hidden in this very caravan. And then chimera's vision locked onto a man, a merchant, desperate, clutching to a box. When the hunters finally vanished, he ran, stumbling into the snow, fleeing for his life. Spoiler, he didn't make it very far. The vision snapped back, leaving Chimera gasping. Ruby and Lagrin followed the trail and found the merchant. Frozen stiff, his body locked in terror. The box still clutched in his lifeless hands. Ruby stared at it, unease settling in her gut.

But she said what we were all thinking. What if it's useful? She insisted we bring it all. back. So that was the box. A toaster-sized shimmering cube. Very deliberate, too perfect, humming faintly like it was waiting to be noticed. The moment chimera laid eyes on it, Colgoth clawed at him from the inside. Equal parts thrilled probably, but mostly terrified. And then silence. And that silence from Cole goth told us everything. Whatever was in this box scared him. With it, we found a letter, sealed with wax. It shocked and burned just to open it. And inside was a desperate plea.

Take the contents of this box, hide it, deep and dark, where no one will ever find it again. So of course, we ignored that. Bass tried smashing it open, chimera poured his will into it. The seal was cracked, and when the lid opened, shadows. Dozens of them shrieking, scattering into the night sky. Half the group was knocked flat, Ruby dug her boots into the snow shouting, close it, close it, but it was too late. When the chaos cleared, resting quietly as if none of that had happened, was the skull. Inside the box. Larger than human, elegant, wrong. Thangs far too long for any ordinary vampire.

Jaw missing. Ancient. Listen, the warning had been very clear. The evidence was all around us, a caravan butchered, a trail of frozen dead, and yet we opened it. And as if carrying a cursed skull wasn't enough, we then stumbled into a neighbor, a Medusa's lair. This was insane. Camericast suggestion. Close your eyes. And it landed perfectly. Now, side note, we later realized we accidentally overpowered that spell. By the book, it should have ended. Ended the moment we struck her. But narratively, we figure it works. Colgoth was burning himself ragged trying to keep his baby boy safe, shielding chimera not just from the Medusa, but from those spirit walkers clawing across the plains, hunting that skull.

So we figure he gave chimera a little extra oomph. Anyway, cue chaos. Chet nearly strolled right into her arms, enchanted by whispered promises. Ruby and Lagrin hammered away, trying to keep her pinned. Nithera went to work like a surgeon, carving snakeheads off, and bottling venom eventually. Kimer burned with every shred of Kulgoth's will. In the end, she dropped. But not before Chet earned himself a lifetime of, she sounded hot jokes. That fight made the next choice easy. Ditch the skull. Colgoth admitted to Kimer, he couldn't keep shielding us much longer.

Ruby sketched the skull in her notebook for posterity, because if we're going to make the world worse, might as well document it, right? Loggin floated the idea of colloquium. lapsing the cave. Nithera considered animating the Medusa's corpse to carry it away. Mercifully, no one agreed. And Vetti, the second word explosives was mentioned, she practically applied for demolition foreman. So here's what we did. We shoved the skull deep into a crevasse, laced the cavern with explosive arrows, ran a rope fuse, and backed up a good hundred yards. Long, tense weight.

Way too long. And then, Boom. The mountain belched snow and smoke into the sky like a dragon with a head cold. Message received. Whatever was in there was not coming back out. Not easily at least. And then came the kids. Chet once again got the talk from Logrin. Maybe don't sprint face first at monsters who whisper sweet nothings. The lesson, if you hear sultry voices in an abandoned cave, it's not romance. It's a death trap. Badge tried to figure out how to get angry on. command. Ask Lager for tips, like it was a self-help seminar. And Lageren, deadpan as ever, told him, pretend your family's terrible.

Not exactly hallmark wisdom, but it works. Over the next few days, we train them, toughen them, maybe even leveled them up a little bit. But Ruby couldn't shake the guilt. She kept replaying those shadows bursting from the box, the way the skull seemed to watch her, even after it was buried. She pulled Nithera aside, admitted, I don't want to be responsible for their deaths or ours. And Nithera, ever the pragmatist reminded her, if the kids had stayed in Aubrey, they'd already be dead. With us at least, they had a chance. So we trudged south towards Estherholt.

Our hands are dirty, and the echoes of that explosion still rumbling in our ears. So, backing up, at some point, Jason, our game master, swore that the path to Estherholt was at the time. At this point, clear. That wasn't true at all. We'd been trudging through the foothills for days. Cold, tired, still dragging sleds of loot that we had gotten from the caravan long ago. Somewhere along the way we met an herbalist in the hills, a very sweet old woman with roots and potions and teas. She talked about a hag, a witch that people in Esther Holt were looking out for.

Jason swore up and down that she was not that hag. Sure. Ruby at least walked away. very much convinced we had just made small talk with an actual hack. The one thing we got out of her was a lead for a place to stay when we did get to Esther Holt, silk sheets. That'll come up later. Also, the boule came up later. Big, armored, subterranean horror, land shark with a taste for party members. The fight was brutal, Nithera darting in and out with precision strikes, ruby smashing with fists and gadgets until finally landing this cathartic finishing blow. especially after Nithera had downed it with an explosive arrow.

Not our finest moment, but we did walk away, breathing, barely. So remember, Jason said, now the path is clear to Estherhold, and we almost believed him. We made it as far as a river, fast water cutting through the ice, a natural watering hole for every beast in the mountains. We were topping off our canteens, probably dreaming of hot baths and warm beds, when the sky cracked open. Two shapes hurtled down from the hills. Like somebody put wings on a Volkswagen bug and threw them off a cliff. Wyverns. Or Wyverns. Weaver. Everybody said it different. It's Wyvern.

Fitting, since they flew like chickens strapped to parachutes. They came in hard. Ruby dove and rolled, firing her wrist balista up through the snow spray. Kimerica conjured his new Eldritch boomerang, purple fire, leaving an arc across the sky as it slashed and returned to his hand. Nitha flicked on her psychic blade. carving deep. But the wyverns were nasty. One crashed into ruby, tearing out her, another slammed into the kids. Baz caught the worst of it, a stinger straight through his chest. For one awful moment, he was limp, poison bursting out the back of him.

We thought he was gone, but somehow he survived. The turning point came when Chet actually listened, stayed back, threw a dagger, and landed the crit of his young life. The Wyvern reeled, stunned wide open. Nitha and Ruby shredded it down, and the second beast didn't last much longer. Ruby finished the fight with a furious uppercut, powered by the tyrant's teeth. When the snow settled, both Wyverns were steaming corpses, and the kids were shaken, but alive. That's when the real fight started, not with monsters, but with each other. Logren set it straight.

We couldn't keep dragging kids into this, not after Bazalmas died. His plan? Leave the... them in Estherhold. Let them live safer lives. Chet lost it. He argued that if we never let them fight, they'd never learn. Didn't we see? His dagger had turned the tide. Nithera shut him down, though, voice sharp as her blade. A nine-year-old almost died today. Don't you dare act like this is a game? It escalated fast. Chet furious, Lageren unyielding, till finally Lageren pulled back, forced himself to breathe. He set the terms. Fine. You do exactly as we say every time.

Or you're done. We'll talk again in Esther Holt. Which we did. Chet's jaw set. He didn't like it. But he agreed for now. The rest of the march south was tense. Nithera softened things by letting Chet help Fet train with daggers, Lager and patched baths like a grumpy father muttering the whole time. Ruby tried to bury her guilt and sketches and notes. And then the city. Esther Holt rose. out of the snow with stone walls, chimneys puffing smoke, and gas lanterns glowing in the streets. Civilization after weeks of frost and blood. We dragged our salvage into the merchant district, Superman action figures, Pokemon cards, whatever we had, and managed to offload it for a mountain of gold and a few shiny upgrades.

More importantly, we finally had rooms waiting at the silk sheets in. But the city had shadows of its own. Every time Bonzo's dark, a specific, graphic franchise here in Estherhold was mentioned. First by a guard, then by a merchant slipping as a 200 gold gift certificate, then by the carriage driver taking us there. There was a look, a hesitation, a sense that the place was fine, but not fine. It's because Bonzo's dark sits in the gloaming quarter of Estherholt, a whole walled district run by vampires, legal, welcoming, but unsettling. So that night, freshly bathed, half the kids still drunk.

That's another story altogether. Ruby clutching that Bonzo's coupon like it was holy writ, we piled into a gaudy carriage and rolled into the dark. And as soon as we crossed the threshold, we heard it, organ music echoing through the streets. Bonzo's Dark. So back up. After Wyvern's Bouletes and one very not-suscious, not-sostoecious, not a a hag. We finally stepped into Esther Holt's gloaming quarter. And at its center, Bonzo's Dark. Imagine a cheesecake factory that made it with a haunted house. Pipe organ music, flickering lanterns, vampires serving garlic bread ironically.

The whole place, like a Halloween MMO skin. And Ruby, she was thrilled. We asked for a booth because obviously boots are better, and the whole table folded itself inward to let us slide in. Ruby was instantly under the thing, admiring the years and then immediately buried in the menu. She started rattling off appetizers like she was speed running a buffet. By the time Logran looked up, she'd already ordered eight things at least. The server, Millie, smiled politely, leaned down to Logren and whispered, Your kids are drunk, I'll bring bread, which she did.

A giant garlic and cheese loaf to sober them up. Free food. That one Lagrin over immediately. So the night settled into its them. Kimer discovered the novelty phones that let you call other booths. Ruby discovered harpy knuckles, which are, I guess, chicken wings. Nithera ordered a Shirley Boulet. Yes, it came with a tiny toy boule. And Ruby, Ruby just kept eating. And did Nitha's night, took a turn. A tall, pale vampire with long, dark hair stepped up and asked her to dance. She looked him up and down, smirked, and said, I was just waiting for you. And off she went, gliding into the crowd, like she'd been waiting 11 years for this exact moment, which she had been.

Ruby sat there with sauce on her chin, whispering in awe. She's amazing. But while Nithera spun across the floor, Ruby and Kimera noticed something else. An older human man, graybeard, sitting alone, staring. Not at us, at Nithara's new partner. His eyes never left him. His hand drifted into his coat once and back out. Later he scribbled something down, slammed his drinking story. formed out. Millie told us his name. Drew, human, from Aubrey, a regular here, always suspicious, always watching the vampires. And apparently, lately, always glaring at Nithera's new flame.

Nithera didn't let it ruin her night. She left with the vampire, Zera, for a walking tour of the glowing quarter that ended exactly the way you think it did. She came back the next morning, glowing, healthier than she looked in weeks. When asked what happened, she just winked and said, said, he'll never forget me. The next day, Logrin kicked everyone awake at dawn. Coffee, greasy breakfast, maps on the table. Time for the plan, T.M. The kids groaned, but he had food ready, so they listened. Step one, Adamatite. There's a deposit in the mountains, and we need it.

Step two, find the other rare ingredients on the wizard's list. Green Dragon's Breath, an orb of chaotic assault, whatever that is, a demon horn. The kid's job? Stay in Esterholt. Network. Fine leads. No more wyverns, no more land sharks. Just legwork. Step three, the big reveal. The plan. Logrin finally told them. And everyone. We're building away into dreams. An artifact. We need all the parts to be able to put it together. Namara Stone Sunder, the last era of the Stone Sunder, Dwarbon Line, has been trapped in a coma for... years, presumably by the current region of Stone Sunder, a grimhorn.

The reason, if we can get into her dreams, convince her to wake up, and then persuade her to abdicate the throne, we can put the mountain back in the right hands. And that would mean the cragborns could finally be reinstated. And that's all Lagerun wants. The room went quiet, and then Ora raised her hand. Of course she did. Slowly, hesitant. My mom's Kara Stone Sunter? Is that going to be a problem? Holy crap. Awkward silence. Logren stumbled through it. It's complicated. We'll work it out. And that's kind of where we left that. But now there's a whole city to explore.

So after Bonzo's Dark, vampire romances, and the Logren morning strategy session, we finally hit the streets of Asterold. First stop, Shopping. Because if you're about to climb a mountain full of Durgar and monsters, you don't go in with pocket lint and a single healing potion tied to a kid's mitten. Ruby and Chimera ducked into a massive apothecary. Imagine the Walmart of potions, but with a weirdly fancy gift shop vibe, shelves stacked with everything. Potions of heroism, invisibility, spider legs, antlers, even potions of localized growth in the sexual wellness aisle.

Ruby nearly lost her mind. She wanted everything. And that's when the clerk pitched the loyalty program. 20% off? A free gift? And all it costs is a magical tattoo that updates like a living newsletter? Ruby's eyes lit up. She had her sleeve rolled up before the poor kid finished the sentence. Chimera, being chimera, pushed it even further. Hagled, lied, leaned in on it, and somehow scored them half off of everything. So now Ruby's got a glowing tattoo on her arm. Logrin's going to have to add. minute. Best financial decision she ever made. We walked out with eight greater healing potions, a potion of invisibility, cold resistance, even hag repellent.

And thanks to those soggy harpy throats we've been dragging around, several thousand gold in credit. Turns out those wet throats were the real MVP's. But the real prize wasn't in the store. It was in the alleys. Nithera tapped her contacts and led us to a pair of guides. Austin and Jesse Quickbolt. Brothers. Card sharks. Kind of scumbags. Exactly the kind of people you hire when you need to walk into door guard territory and somehow walk back out alive. They tried to fleeces at the table. Cheating, smirking, stacking the deck, and I theory cheated right back.

Logrin just sat heavy. In the end, nobody won, nobody lost, but the deal was struck. 6,000 gold, half up front, half on return, and they'd take us up the mountain and put is face to face with the Durgar leader himself. We need that oar. So, now the potions are packed, rubies rock in a brand new tattoo, and the kids have their first contacts in Esther Holt's underworld. Next stop, the mountains, the Durgar. And maybe the Adamantine, we need to check off the list. So there you have it. That's the current state of Frostborn. In essence, Theria itself has lurched forward in time, swallowed by an arcane blizzard.

At the center of our story stands Logrin Cragborn, a Dwarven Marshal with a plan to claw back the honor, his clan lost when they were scapegoated and cast out of stones under mountain. To do it, he's assembled a team, Nithera, Chimera, and Ruby, who were somehow equal parts skilled, cursed, reckless, and loyal. Since episode one, that plan has hauled us from Winterhaven to Fort Frostborn, down through Aubrey, and now into the slightly balmier streets of Esther Holt. Along the way, a caravan massacre, cursed relics, exploding caverns, medusafites, vampire banquets, loyalty program tattoos, basically chaos and randomness at every turn.

So if you've been listening this far, thank you. If you're new, this is the perfect place to jump in. We'd love it if you rate the show. drop us a comment on Spotify or wherever you listen to your podcast. And please share it with friends who might love this kind of storytelling. And if you want to go deeper, our Patreon is the best way to do it. Patreon.com slash D-A-N-D-R. Depending on your tier, you'll unlock, ad-free episodes, behind-the-scenes recordings, Patreon-exclusive campaigns, bonus episodes, limited quest with other fan-favorit groups, like the overseers and the Java Squad.

It's a mountain of extra content that helps keep the show alive. Also, at higher tiers, you too can become part of the story on one of the Patreon groups. Check it out and see if it's for you. And finally, even more stories are coming out of Fort Frostborn, featuring more members of the DNR cast in the very near future. Most of all, come join our Discord. It's where the theories fly, the jokes hit harder, and our community really lives. all of the links to this are in our description or just find us online. So stay tuned for the next 20 or so episodes, and hopefully I'll be back with another summary.

So that's all for now. And remember, it's not a heist.