13$ per session through StartPlaying https://startplaying.games/gm/bryceythomas  on Saturdays @ 7:30PM. The Great Proving returns to Dras’Gromm—a legendary festival of strength, spectacle, and survival in the heart of the desert. Every few years, the dragons of the Khyrazgaar throw open the arena gates to warriors, champions, and the Pit‑Sworn: condemned souls forced to fight for a single promise. Win the Proving, and you’ll earn freedom, land, and a life beyond the sands. You are one of the Pit‑Sworn. Whether by crime, exile, debt, or order, you are forced to fight in the arena. The crowds cheer for you as underdogs. The dragons see the Proving as tradition. Merchants bet huge sums on every match. Most people in the desert see it as a celebration. But this year feels different. Matches are harsher. Teams vanish without explanation. The rules seem to shift in ways that no one can quite put their finger on. Two teams in particular fight with uncanny precision—too polished, too prepared, too lucky. Your own team wasn’t drafted by chance. Someone made sure you were placed together. Someone ensured that you had the necessary gear, training, and a slot in the bracket. Someone wants you to survive longer than the Pit‑Sworn usually do. You’ve received hints, favors, and quiet nudges from a sponsor who never shows their face. You don’t know who they are. You don’t know what they want. You only know this: they want you to interfere. Your task, as you understand it, is simple: fight well, survive, and uncover why this year’s Proving feels wrong. Ahead lie Blood Ring battles, team clashes, mounted relays, and the final challenge known as the Descent, a symbolic journey into the tunnels beneath Dras’Gromm. Most Pit‑Sworn never return from it. If you reach the Descent, you’ll be closer to the truth than any Pit‑Sworn has ever been. For now, all you can do is step into the sand, raise your weapon, and trust your instincts. Something in the Proving is shifting. And you are standing in the center of it.

10$ per session through StartPlaying https://startplaying.games/gm/bryceythomas on Saturdays @ 11:30AM. The city of Imperi gleams beneath its marble arches, but something in its warmth feels subtly, unmistakably wrong. A hush clings to the rings, a tension beneath the noise of markets and parades, as if the city is waiting for a cue it hasn’t yet been given. Strange heat gathers in forgotten corners. People drift into quiet, sun‑dazed reveries. And deep beneath the streets, the mines report accidents that don’t behave like accidents at all. As the party moves through the city, they begin to uncover threads that should never have touched: political denials that contradict eyewitness accounts, a thieves’ guild quietly stockpiling a radiant essence called Sunbreath, and a traveling troupe whose performances seem to mask coded meetings and midnight movements. Every faction wants something from Imperi, and every faction wants something from the players — information, loyalty, silence. What the party doesn’t yet see is that these crises are not isolated. They are pieces of a design that stretches far beyond the city’s walls. The warmth, the watchers, the missing shipments, the shifting alliances, the Sunbreath itself — all of it is being arranged with deliberate care. Someone is preparing a binding, a contract of law and will and sacrifice, meant to join a powerful claimant to a chosen Vessel. And Imperi, in all its grandeur, is only the stage. When the truth finally rises to the surface, the players will have to decide what to protect, what to expose, and who they become when the city’s masks fall away. In Act II, every choice shapes the fate of Imperi — and the curtain hasn’t even lifted.