Paragon Protocol: Epilogue

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Overview: The adventure may be over, but there are still more stories to be told about the heroic Hellraisers.

Aivan Factorovich

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Aliria Servine

After Othea was sealed once more, Aliria Servine’s task was finally complete. The realms were safe again, and the fraying strands that bound the planes together had been restored through the birth of the Passage of Souls. Balance had returned. But the power she had wielded came with a price, and that debt had now come due. In exchange for the knowledge and strength granted to her by the Book of the Dead, Aliria had sworn herself to it. She would become its keeper, the eternal warden of the dead. With the Styx reborn as the Passage of Souls, her duty was clear. It was time to take her place.

She stepped onto the Obsidian Bridge one final time as a mortal woman and walked into the Passage. Aliria knew, as she crossed that threshold, that she would never again live among mortals or walk the lands of the living. And so her new existence began. For the rest of eternity, Aliria would stand as the vigilant guardian of the Passage and the Obsidian Bridge. With the Sword of Mortem in one hand and the Book of the Dead in the other, she became the silent guide of the dead. Every soul that entered the Passage would cross beneath her watchful gaze, and none would be left to wander lost between worlds. Kings and beggars, heroes and tyrants alike, all would pass the same bridge, and Aliria would ensure that each reached the afterlife meant for them. A timeless sentinel between life and what comes after. Yet eternity did not mean loneliness.

Though she was bound to the Bridge and the Passage, her dominion over that realm granted her a small mercy: she could open the path to visitors from the living world. Those she trusted could walk the Obsidian Bridge and stand beside her for a time before returning to their own lives. After so much time apart, Aliria was finally able to sit and speak with her mother, Viviria Servine, sharing the long stories that had gone untold and bonding over their shared freedom from Glasya. She even came to know her father, the Demon Lord Graz’zt, who showed his love for her in his own strange demoney ways.

Time passed differently on the Passage, and word of the Keeper of Souls slowly spread across the planes. Eventually, another message reached her across the bridge. Grandmother Theresa, and Mackrea of the Cloven Coven had come to speak with her. With Curia dead, their coven had lost one of its sisters, leaving the sacred circle broken. They sought someone worthy to stand among them, someone who understood the balance between life, death, and the unseen forces that shaped both. They came with an offer. They asked Aliria to join them. After long consideration, she accepted. Thus the Keeper of Souls took on one final title. In the hidden circles of witchcraft and shadow, she became known as Aliria, the Quiet Night of the Cloven Coven.

And so the years turned to centuries, and centuries to ages. Empires rose and crumbled. New gods were born and old ones faded into myth. Entire worlds changed beyond recognition. Yet through it all, the Obsidian Bridge endured, stretching across the endless current of the Passage of Souls. And upon that bridge, beneath a sky of drifting grey mists and distant stars, one figure always stood watch. Sword in hand. Book at her side. Aliria Servine, Keeper of Souls, guiding the dead across the final threshold, until the last soul has crossed, and the end of days at last arrives.

Nyrgoth

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Sylphine Nightfall

After her adventures came to an end, Sylphine chose not to return home. She remained in the Hells. Though she claimed her freedom and used it to wander the vast planes of Quelmar, exploring horizons she had once only dreamed of, she found her true purpose in the realms of sin. The Hells had scarred her, but they had also sharpened her. And before she allowed herself rest, there was one final debt to collect.

The abyssal assassin Darius Hollow, the brigand who had burned her village to ash when she was a child, had entangled himself in the Infernal Insurrection. There, as ever, he had thrived in chaos, lending his blades to warlords and madmen alike, delighting in carnage for its own sake. But when the Insurrection collapsed, Darius fled, bleeding and broken, disappearing into a forgotten village tucked away in some quiet corner of the planes. He believed himself hidden. He had not survived the Hells. Sylphine had.

After all she had endured, tracking Darius was almost effortless for the expert inquisitor Sylphine Nightfall. She followed the trail of whispers and blood to his refuge. When she finally stepped through his door, he barely had time to twist his lips into that familiar, manic smile before Edict’s Edge pierced his skull.

Sylphine ensured she visited her parents often on the Material Plane, where their village had been newly rebuilt. But her home was no longer there. Her place was in Dis, where the ruling Archdevil Nyr had granted her a palatial penthouse estate overlooking the iron spires of the city. From here she would aid in the rebuilding of the Hells and worked on rooting out the corruption that seeped in from the Abyssal realms. She became someone that anyone could come to to seek aid, and in her travels across the planes her name and deeds only grew in renown as an investigator, a demon slayer, and a hero. And even with all of her time in the Hells, as the years passed, she continued to remain above the corruption of the infernal layers she helped rebuild, resisting its tempations to fall to fiendom and remaining mortal for the rest of her days.

Atlas

After their long descent through the Hells, Atlas needed time away from war, from prophecy, from gods. He returned to the Material Plane and wandered for months without destination, seeking something he had never been allowed before: himself. His entire life had been devoted to the Cult of the Shattered Mountain. Now, for the first time, he was free of it. Nine months after the fires of the Hells had dimmed behind him, Atlas found his purpose again. On the steps of a quiet orphanage lay an abandoned infant, one with fiery red hair, wrapped in simple cloth, a small nametag tied at her wrist. Othea.

Sylphine Nightfall had saved the spirit of his goddess in her final moments, granting her not another throne, not another war, but a second beginning. Reborn as a mortal child, Othea was free at last from the burdens, pain, and expectations that had once defined her. Atlas did not hesitate. He gathered the child into his arms and, with that simple act, chose his path. He would give her the life she had never been allowed to have. He would protect her from the weight of worship and the chains of destiny.

In time, Atlas would also seek out the scattered remnants of the Cult, those who had remained on the Material Plane and those who survived the Hells. But he would not rebuild what once was. Instead, he helped them heal. He guided them toward a faith no longer rooted in blind devotion or fear, but in hope and in community. Few would ever know that the laughing child at his side had once been their god. Perhaps it was better that way. And so Atlas spent the rest of his days not as a zealot, not as a warrior of a shattered mountain, but as something far greater, a leader to a lost people, and father to a girl with a bright and unburdened future.

Endine di Valpadana

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Allies and Enemies

Virgil

After the end of the Infernal Insurrection, Virgil stayed behind in Dis to help Nyrgoth rebuild the city. But after a few years, Virgil felt confident enough to leave the Ten Hells behind. They would leave Dis and travel to the Material Plane, eventually settling in the city of Jewelspar which had a small Tiefling and Infernal community. Soon after they would become a teacher at Laergul University, the largest bardic college in Jewelspar where they would share their talents as a former infernal Orator and spread the story of the Hellraisers.

Koh Tam

After the end of the Infernal Insurrection, Koh Tam vanished without a trace. The mad rambling prophet disappeared from the Hells, seemingly off to go and observe the next oncoming apocalypse. Sightings of Koh Tam over the next few years include her running a fortune teller's tent in the Cerulean City, her giving wild declarations outside a temple of Pelor in Seglock, her observing a demonic ritual in the pine barrens of Osugbo, and even her tagging along with a few other teams of adventurers. When anyone from the party tried to research her, they found more questions then answers. The name Koh Tam went back hundreds maybe even thousands of years, and the notable many-eyed mask she wore could be seen in sketches and paintings from ancient catastrophes. Who was this prophet? What god did she serve? And what was her real motivation for joining them on their adventure?

Ramifications of the Infernal Insurrection

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Beneath the Passage

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