A hero's arrive in a city in hell.

I get it, I was in Detroit this year.

This week on D&D Minus.

You step through the gates of the bronze citadel and find yourself inside the most glorious

monument to battle in the universe.

From the shopfronts to the restaurants, one thing is clear.

This city is a celebration and embodiment of war.

You pass medic tents and healer halls, the size of castles, boasting outrageous signs

like patch up and muster, war chiropractic clinic.

I would have asked you if there were like, bad pun, good place things, and the last one,

this one's called high maim tenants, maim stop, it could have just been maim stop, barreds

line the streets offering not songs and poems for sale as they do where you're from, but

bloody oaths and pithy comebacks and clever puns for dispatching your enemy and everywhere,

everywhere you look, there are weapons, magic weapon stores, cursed weapon stores, giant

weapon stores, every shape and size, type and kind of killing, maiming and generally

bothering instrument anyone has ever thought of is here and for sale.

What do you do?

Guys, I didn't think I would say this, but hell is, it's kind of nice.

It's really, this is really kind of lovely.

I feel as though we may need some of these things to escape it.

Oh, yeah, I wasn't talking about buying them.

If you know what I mean, we don't have money.

...