Crit & Fumble

In Bloodhearth, the air hangs heavy with smoke and heat. Blades clash. A cursed weapon is dragged from the fire and gripped with shaking resolve. Statues dusted in ash watch in silence, their cryptic warnings echoing as the party presses deeper into the trial. Ahead, a monolith of a gate looms… sealed by design, veiled in mystery, and unwilling to open without cost. One falls in the attempt, burned, broken, and bleeding on scorched stone.They were told this place would be a trial to test their bodies but Bloodhearth forges something else entirely: doubt, desperation, and wounds no weapons could leave.