Oct 15, 2026 · 2 hr 18 min · 10 segments
**Forget heroics this week** it's time to walk into the Fog. The Heroic Round crew is trading high fantasy for the dark, dreary fairytale horror of Fatherfog for our Halloween Special TTRPG One-shot…
[gentle music] There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth without any bread, then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
In the old days, back when the high roads still had names and the grand houses were filled with music, people spoke of the world as something solid, a place built to last.
But that was before the lights went pale, before the world of the past ground to a halt.
The world didn't end in a single fire or a great war.
It just grew old, exhausted, and thin.
It moved on, leaving this land behind like a house abandoned to the weather.
And where the world shrank back, the fog came in to fill the empty spaces.
You see, the fog isn't just a mist.
It isn't made of river damp or rain clouds.
It is the cold, gray breath of a dying realm.
It is oblivion made physical, a heavy, greasy gloom that creeps out of the hollows to swallow whatever the world forgets.
When the fog settles over a road, the road ceases to lead anywhere.
When it coils around a barn, the wood rots from the inside out.
And when it takes a person, it doesn't just kill them.
It unspools them, wiping their footsteps from the earth until even their kin begin to forget the shape of their faces.
Your village is one of the last tiny islands of living warmth left in the gray sea.
Beyond the boundary fence, there are no maps anymore.
There is no sky, no horizon, and no sun, only the fog, waiting patiently to swallow the last few embers of a world that is slowly, quietly running out of time.
In the village where you reside, you have spent the majority of your lives, some all of it, like young Hansel and young Davey, and some most of it, like the elder Luger.
This village is big enough that you know everyone's name, but you don't know everyone well.
It's one of the last bastions of hope in a world that has been consumed by the fog.
All of you know personally people that have disappeared into the fog, never to return, with no trace.
It's not uncommon for people to die and to disappear.
[gentle music] There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth without any bread, then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.
In the old days, back when the high roads still had names and the grand houses were filled with music, people spoke of the world as something solid, a place built to last.
But that was before the lights went pale, before the world of the past ground to a halt.
The world didn't end in a single fire or a great war.
It just grew old, exhausted, and thin.
It moved on, leaving this land behind like a house abandoned to the weather.
And where the world shrank back, the fog came in to fill the empty spaces.
You see, the fog isn't just a mist.
It isn't made of river damp or rain clouds.
It is the cold, gray breath of a dying realm.
It is oblivion made physical, a heavy, greasy gloom that creeps out of the hollows to swallow whatever the world forgets.
When the fog settles over a road, the road ceases to lead anywhere.
When it coils around a barn, the wood rots from the inside out.
And when it takes a person, it doesn't just kill them.
It unspools them, wiping their footsteps from the earth until even their kin begin to forget the shape of their faces.
Your village is one of the last tiny islands of living warmth left in the gray sea.
Beyond the boundary fence, there are no maps anymore.
There is no sky, no horizon, and no sun, only the fog, waiting patiently to swallow the last few embers of a world that is slowly, quietly running out of time.
In the village where you reside, you have spent the majority of your lives, some all of it, like young Hansel and young Davey, and some most of it, like the elder Luger.
This village is big enough that you know everyone's name, but you don't know everyone well.
It's one of the last bastions of hope in a world that has been consumed by the fog.
All of you know personally people that have disappeared into the fog, never to return, with no trace.
It's not uncommon for people to die and to disappear.
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