Session 70 – The Ceaseless Nightmare

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https://boullinismilfmoneysquad.obsidianportal.com/adventure-log/session-70-the-ceaseless-nightmare Previously on Milf$: I can excuse homicidal rage, but I draw the line at Sparky His Infinite Gaze The gang gazed on as Tulamire focused all his eye rays at the central obsidian spire. It traveled upwards and became heat seeking missiles, travelling to allies of Milf Money as The World Mirror fractured into… Continue reading Session 70 – The Ceaseless Nightmare

Session 65 – Forget Me Not

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https://boullinismilfmoneysquad.obsidianportal.com/adventure-log/session-65-forget-me-not ItPat Once Again Previously on Milf$: The gang had survived the Mimic Pyramid, went through the hallway of bandages, and then came across a room of treasures and jewels. The colours were of all wonderful, but as the group made contact with the jewels, they revealed to be scarab-like creatures fluttering and exploding into… Continue reading Session 65 – Forget Me Not

Session 64 – Into The Eye

Breadgar gets Vored https://boullinismilfmoneysquad.obsidianportal.com/adventure-log/session-64-into-the-eye Previously on Milf$: After Alluris created the mighty fortress for shelter, the gang and their allies took comfort in the stone walls as Tulamire’s projection hovered over the city of Boullini.  The next morning, Artemis had shown the group a group of giant eye balls that she had dispatched. Robart said… Continue reading Session 64 – Into The Eye

Session 63 – His Vision of Boullini

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https://boullinismilfmoneysquad.obsidianportal.com/adventure-log/session-63-his-vision-of-boullini The Gang Gets Some Bombshells Previously on Milf$: The Gang saw blue lights being projected into the sky after Robart came to them. He told them that The Infinite Gaze had been behind everything; but before he could explore it more, the blue lights created the shape of a creature with many eye stalks,… Continue reading Session 63 – His Vision of Boullini

Red Line

By Christos Floratos Aghast to the virus spread obtuse like a Goose on a noose, left to flutter melting in summer butter; just a mild cracked windpipe. On the mystic ball; the test cassette. Two red lines are the finish line, for the future has no warranty. Ahem, hack, achoo. Thousands upon thousands. We must… Continue reading Red Line