Note: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE number your contributions. It makes it easier to reference.
Note: If you post and find that you're numbering has been rendered incorrect by someone posting before you, please edit your post to maintain continuancy. Thanks!
1) Blood Rain
2) living metallic grass
3) Rainbows that disintegrate all that they touch
4) Hats that float and move in mid-air as though someone were wearing them, occasionally flipping up to salute another passing hat or PC party.
5) Rivers that appear to be calm and shallow but rapidly become turbulent when someone steps in them.
6) A village of murderous animated objects (dolls, candlesticks, the buildings themselves)
7) Gargantuan Housecats
9) Nauseating rain
(I also do blood rain, but this introduces a rare time in which healing spells function normal.......mostly--brewhahahahaha)
11)swarm of skull-shaped locusts
12)continually shivering tree, as if in fear
13)fata morgana that always seems to come closer, like an advancing horde
15) Enchanting illusions of people who welcome you to their home and offer food and lodging... and then disappear, leaving you in the waste of the Mournland.
16) A vast creature that appears to be part of the landscape.
17) Rain of arrows
17) Rain of arrows
I'd have never thought of ordinary arrows, but this fits really well. And all the other submissions are great as well
Good job everyone, let's keep it up!
18) A forest of red-barked trees that bleed and shriek if anyone so much as touches them
19) A river of warm, salty water (tears) that, when in contact with a character, reminds that character of their greatest tragedy.
20) Reverse-Rain that forms from condensed dew on the ground that flies upward into the dead-gray mist
21) A canyon of rust
19 - Swarm of 'metal' vermin
20 - Shifting lands: the gound moves under foot as it there is something below
23. Rain that are tears; warm and salty.
24. Rain that stays where ever it lands as if glued to the spot, building on top of one another, never soaking into the ground or cloth or what have you, evaporating normally.
26. A field of stange limp straw.... hair growing from the ground.
28. A ring of ghostly children who are dancing around a beaten gallows where the still fresh corpse of a woman hangs, gently swaying in the breeze. The children are holding hands and chanting ring around the rosy in somber voices. The children appear to be very badly burned, but do not notice their wounds.
29. The apparition of a bard hunched over the corpse of a fallen woman, playing a mournful tune on a mandolin (If you are familiar with Blackmore's Night, the tune he is play is entitled Beyond the Sunset).
30. A single childrens doll laying in a pool of blood. The sound of a crying child can be heard, but whenever a female character approaches the doll, the crying stops.
31. A small cluster of farm houses that appear deserted. Food still sits on the table, as if the family will return to their meal shortly. Upon the walls, written in blood, is a single word: Why?
32. A single weeping willow by the bank of a stream. The leaves continually drip moisture that is warm and salty. Beneath the tree is an unmarked cross.
33. A woman clutching two children. All three have been turned to stone, but the figure still weep.
This is good stuff. My players will never enter the mournlands again.
Cheers,
Save vs DM
35) A large, monolithic obelisk jutting out of the ground. In the center of the great black rock is a huge (the size of a man's head) eye, its gaze darting back and forth from one person to another.
36) A gang of hunched over, naked elf-like shapes with no arms or faces. Maybe they have some other way of killing and eating their prey...
37) A hill of screaming skulls begging for their lives.
Scary!
Good job guys, keep digging deep!
38) A scant few hundred feet from the edge of the Mournland, PCs hear a train whistle. Soon they see the hulk of a Lightning Rail Train, the last to depart Metrol on the day of Mourning. It's dead on the outside, laying on its side like an iron corpse, but the players can smell fire and burning flesh. One of the car's windows eternally thumps outward as if someone were beating on it from the inside, and screams and pleas issue forth from the car constantly. If you touch the car, though, you get sucked inside...
40) Deformed experimental warforged with black armour plates, and varying numbers of limbs. A dead grey glow illuminates their eye sockets and hatred towadrs their cruel master, the Lord of Blades is strong within them. (Much like Drider and Drow). These warforged often crawl, unable to make efficient use of more than two legs carry with them weapons made from torn up body parts from victims of the Cyre destruction event (nothing rots away naturally in the Mournlands)
41) Entire civilisations of roach thralls and swarm shifters of the cockroach livign within the "animate" bodies of the poor souls who lost their lives in the destruction of Cyre.
42) Living Gutwrench spells (BoVD)
43) Fog that peels the skin of the victim from the toes up, slowly. The victim does not realise it because the fog simultaneously replays happy memories from the victims own memory bank in the mist before him, leaving him dominated.
44) Flocks of pseudoravens and pseudoducks (Pseudo-creature template - BoVD) fly low confusing vistims with their aberrational sight.
45) On certain terrain, the ground around where someone steps becaomes alive with hands trying to escape from the earth, like zombies coming out of their graves. Upon closer inspection, all that is coming out of the ground is diembodied hands that fade when completely free of the ground.
47) The animated corpse of a carcass crab. On closer inspection, the crab itself is inert, but the multitude of corpses adhering to its shell have become animated as various forms of undead, the whole mass shuffling through the Mournland in macabre co-operation.
48) A 5x5 ft circular "hunting" hole in the ground that moves about like a shadow, continually seeking to give the unwary a nasty fall...
This situation often leads to the question: How do you kill a hole? You fill it in...
51) A still, with a fire burning underneath it and a bucket under the spout next to it overflowing with some sort of liquor. There are no signs of habitation or indication who the rig belongs to. And it's not a bad brew, if you can get past the faint red tinting and bitter iron taste...
52) A circle of well-preserved corpses sitting in relaxed, conversational poses around an eight-pipe hookah. The corpses do nothing and cannot be removed from those poses. The hookah is lit, and the smoke issuing from all eight pipes looks like an incredibly concetrated version of the fog currently covering the entire Mournland. (It's up to the DM what the effect of puffing on one of those pipes is, but I bet it ain't good.)
Among the supplies stands a small painting, wrapped in cloth - the painting has changed, and will drain the blood of all whom touch it.
54)The bodies of two people lying sprawled, naked. Their clothes lie in the exact same position as their owners, a few feet away.
56) A twisted abomination of what might have been a person stumbles around aimlessly. Gnashing, fanged mouths are were its eyes should be. A dozen worm-like tendrils, always flapping about, surround it's circular, slobbering mouth. Its hands are also covered with worm-like tendrils in place of fingers. Below its waist is nothing but a flat flap of skin which convulses and pushes the horrid thing in random directions, jarring it about.
59. A village where everything is frozen exactly as it was 1 minute before the Mourning hit. People, undecayed, still stand in conversation. The blacksmith's hammer is raised to strike an object on the anvil. The tavern has patrons with mugs still raised to their lips, as well as barmaids holding trays of drinks and food. A group of children playing a game is in the village square, one of the children was jumping in the air, and remains almost a foot off the ground. Anything moved by the PCs will immediately disappear from their hand and reappear where it was.
60. A wind whips through, whispering to the PCs, causing them to relive their greatest failure or tragedy.
61. Statues of fallen heroes are arranged in a "gallery". All statues are made of stone, and are completely life-like at the apparent point of death (huge rends appear in the flesh, all wounds seem to be open.) And all of the wounds are still oozing blood. (Possibly if the PCs touch the blood they are injured... Or healed....
)These will make my game a lot more interesting... Also, I'm compiling them into a wordprocessor document as they're posted. If anyone else is interested in a copy, PM me.
66) A band of ghostly children march through a battle field (with the usual preserved corpses) searching for the bodies of their relatives. When a relative is found, one (or maybe a few) ghostly child (children) break from the parade with a soul wrenching wail and sinks into the earth next to the corpse. Were the child disapears, a black rose, with gaping holes in the leaves and petals, apears.
67) A pool of perfectly calm, clear, still water sits in the middle of a large, deserted plane. Any PC who looks into it sees his or her home town/city being sacked and burnt. Women the character knew are ravished, men the cahracter knew are brutaly tortured and killed, and childeren are claped in irons and dragged screaming away from their homes. For every round the PC looks into the pool, a DC 15+(number of previous saves) Will save must be made. If the save is failed, the character is drawn into an elaborate illusion inwhich he is forced to live the horrors of the pool first hand. The PC's body is motionless and apears unconcious to the outside observer, and the PC's mind can only be freed by a Break Enchantment spell.
68) Dense fog encompases the PCs, blinding them, and each one heres the others screaming in pain or crying for aid.
70) Moans and sounds of a struggle lead to what appears to be two soldiers from opposing factions of the Last War, fused together into a single crawling, deformed mass. The pair can do nothing but groan and occasionally fight eachother, both crying out when a punch or kick lands on their shared form.
71) On closer inspection a strange-looking rock formation proves to be the remains of a building, and the strange features are the petrified forms of people trying to claw their way out of the stone walls.
72) A strange puddle on the ground. If a character steps in it or disturbs it in any way, a tortured scream fills the air, and a face floats to the surface of the puddle.
73) An intact house, its sole inhabitant a madwoman suckling a dead baby.
74) The party crosses an empty field lightly coated with ash. On climbing a hill adjascent to the field, they look back to see that the ash outlines the shape of hundreds of human forms lying on the earth.
75) A small cluster of bodies lies on the ground. If they are approached, a giant swarm of flies and maggots burst from them, attacking anyone nearby.
76) A giant golem, composed entirely of debris from a city- pieces of houses, carts, pacing stones, old clothing, scrap metal and farm tools trudges through the wastes, adding pieces to itself from ruins that it encounters. A semi-animate corpse draped over one of its shoulders whispers orders in its ears, and shouts taunts and promises of horrible death at anyone who approaches.
Edit: Fixed my numbering. Post before mine should be 65-68.
81) The party walks through a field of muddy terrainm each step causing the mud to grasp at their feet. If they look hard enough they notice that tiny child like hands are reaching out of the mud to pull at them. The hands are physically harmles, but the PCs won't be able to rest until they leave the area.
82) The PCs walk through a field of short wavy grass. In fact what first appears to be vegitation is a mas of needle sharp worms poking up from the ground. Walking across this terrain is like moving through a field of caltrops as the worms actively seek warm fleshy feet trodding above them..
83) As the party camps out in the open the gray mists pull away to reveal a dark, yet starry night sky. One by one, each of the stars fall out of the sky until the entire night sky is pitch black (perhaps causing some kind of despare effect). The PCs must view this event until all of the stars have fled (they can not remove their eyes). Once all is black the PCs can look away again, but as soon as they glance at the sky the process starts over again.
84. In the distance, giant luminous ants are building some sort of structure out of what appear to be human bones.
85. A veiled woman in a bloodstained dress is kneeling by a muddy stream. There is a basket beside her, and she appears to be doing her washing. However, as you move closer, you see that she is not cleaning clothes; her basket is filled with severed limbs and heads. (Spirit? Illusion? Meme? Undead? You decide, if the party is unwise enough to engage her in conversation.)
86. If any member of the party fought for or against Cyre in the last war, have them find the corpse of an old friend or enemy, amid a slain patrol. It's not an illusion, or anything strange - just a reminder than many people died in Cyre, people who may have been your friends. Ditto for Cyran characters passing through their hometowns.
87. There is a region in which ink becomes liquid and runs off of any paper or parchment it is on. Parties may find paintings that are nothing more than blank canvases in ornate frames. Spellbooks and scrolls are safe if they are kept closed; but anything opened or unrolled will quickly become blank paper.
88. The party arrives at the scene of a skirmish - a village is being ransacked, or perhaps a Valenar band is fighting a Cyran patrol. At first the group appear to be illusions; all forms of attack pass through them. However, they will react intelligently to new arrivals, and their weapons *can* damage physical creatures. They are seemingly sentient, but every five minutes their memories reset - and they cannot pass beyond the boundaries of the battlefield.
Keep up the good work!
86. If any member of the party fought for or against Cyre in the last war, have them find the corpse of an old friend or enemy, amid a slain patrol. It's not an illusion, or anything strange - just a reminder than many people died in Cyre, people who may have been your friends. Ditto for Cyran characters passing through their hometowns.
Not to sound like I'm brown-nosing, but this one struck me the most out of all of them so far.
Not to sound like I'm brown-nosing, but this one struck me the most out of all of them so far.
That's because it's simpler, and yet more personal: strange otherworldly horrors in the Mournland are, as we've already seen, a dime a dozen. Now, familiar horrors of war, that's classic.
So in that vein, here are a few things I'm sticking in my own campaign...
89) An old manor house, which contains two or three perfectly preserved but well-looted and -abused corpses of household staff lie approximately where they fell on the Day of Mourning. A large clock in one corner s stuck at 11:58 and ticks incessantly, its gears jammed by something but still trying to move. The portraits in the house radiate protective magic, and prevent further damage to the house or its contents. (It's the former home of a PC. Effects of unjamming that clock are left to the creative DM.)
90) A lightning rail station. The skeleton of a ticket vendor sits behind the barred booth, offering a ticket. The ticket can't be pulled loose, but tugging on it will unlock the gate, allowing entry. Inside, there is no dust, no trash, no corpses, no decay. The vendors' booths and stalls are perfectly clean and could be used tomorrow. But by the same token, no train would dare stop there...
91) A fine ink pen. It's intact, looks fancy, and writes smoothly but if the writer doesn't pay attention, he'll start autowriting pleas for help, messages from beyond the grave, random useable spells... The pen inflicts no ill effects other than the autowriting, but the spells are obscure and hard to identify so blythely casting them would be dangerous.
93) The party encounter an undead regimental band of skeletons and/or zombies. Each still wears it's tattered uniform and armour from the war and plays it's drum, flute or horn with gusto, all marching in eerie unison. The spooky marching tune has a Animate dead spell woven in it's sound, and all dead within 90ft of the band immediately rise and either join the band, or attack the nearest non undead. A great encounter for parties moving through old battlefields!
94) The party come across a pit at the edge of a battlefield that smells badly, due to it seeming to be a dumping ground and toilet for local monsters. At the edge of the stinking pit is a pile of old weapons, armour and equipment, amongst which something desirable glistens (Maybe a jewel, magic blade or staff). Upon approching the pit, a large golem type creature bursts from the filth. It is made up almost completely of excrement and smells very bad indeed (Will saves to stop being nauseous). The golem pursues the group and all damage it does can cause disease (Fort saves) due to the makeup of it's hideous form.
Ditto for Cyran characters passing through their hometowns.
Just to expand on this for a moment, the point here is to remember that if any of the characters passing through the Mournland are Cyran, the land is also their home. When they find the village where everything seems slightly melted and all that's left of the people are their clothes... perhaps that village was their home town. Or where their first love lived. Or where their brother settled after he lost his arm in the war. In fact, that pile of clothes there looks like the cloak you gave him. Does that mean he's dead? Or might he (and the rest of the villagers) still be out there somewhere? Might he in fact be the one-armed skullcrusher ogre waiting across the hill, and if so is there any way to reach him?
A key to doing this sort of thing is to establish a few facts with the PC before hand. Nothing major, just enough so you can actually have things match. Did they grow up in the country or city? And relatives? What did their parents do for a living? No need to write it all doubt or put together a book, just to make sure you're on the same page.
Might he in fact be the one-armed skullcrusher ogre waiting across the hill, and if so is there any way to reach him?
Cool! really cool. It's no surprise that you won the contest, Keith. Thanks for continuing to amaze.
*97) East of Eston, beneath lake Cyre, there lies a watertight bronze dome. One of the greatest wonders of Cyre, this dome supported a hamlet that was to be the last refuge of the royal family and the many treasure Cyran people. If the Pcs manage to reach it, they find it inhabited and unaffected by the mourning, but the inhabitants are currently battling a tribe of Kuo-Tua that has seized a vault. The vault contains the key to the Cyrans escape from the dome, but once the PCs retrieve it, is all well, or has a mad cyran, gifted with illusory powers by the Mourning, been deluding them into doing their dirty work?
16) A vast creature that appears to be part of the landscape.
18 - Living dungeons: building that has a taste for death...
I've seen the living dungeon thing done before (The old Jackson/Livingstone Fighting Fantasy books, specifically The Riddling Reaver) but I'll chip in my addition:
18.5) A dungeon which is made of dead flesh. Maybe it was alive recently, but it's hard to tell. Somewhere inside something vital looking has been hacked apart. Various dead bodies of a former adventuring party can be found within, along with various animals that the dungeon sucessfully snared.
My own, though I'm not too good at horror:
96) The adventurers espy a figure sitting at the top of a hill, his back against a rock. As they ascend the hill, the howl of the wind and the hopeless vista fades away, replaced by distant birdsong, an impossibly blue sky, healthy grass, bright flowers and what appear to be cows in the distance. All of this is an illusion, though it's incredibly well done. (High disbelief save.)
The figure is a very old gnome, leaning on the rock with his sleeping bag cushioning his back. Though he is long dead, his corpse is unrotted and he seems to have died smiling.
Attempts to raise him from the dead fail (the gnome looks old enough that his time may have fully run out) and if his corpse is brought out of the mournland it disappears on the night of the new moon, reappearing on the hill.
The location is a relatively pleasant place to rest, though other mournland unpleasantness still happen (IE: Rains of blood, wandering horrors)
97) A house Sivis message station, filled with ghosts whispering messages to still-living relatives in other parts of Khorvaire (Some of them are even in Cyre, and could be as close as the next town). A house Sivis heir might hear messages from outside Cyre if he uses the stones, perhaps prayers for the souls of relatives lost in the Mournland.
Consider giving XP rewards if the players make an effort to collect the messages of the ghosts and deliver them.
98)An ancient Dhakaan ruin, which has had it's missing parts restored by ghostly outlines of former glories. Inside, faint snatches of millenia-old conversations flit through the air, with several whispers all at once in the main dining hall.
and if his corpse is brought out of the mournland it disappears on the night of the new moon, reappearing on the hill.
Any particular new moon?
Very nice suggestions. Here's one more:
99) In the depths of an abandoned House Cannith facility, a Creation Forge is still operating, the dead hand of a perfectly-preserved Cannith Artificer at the controls, and a trio of powerful golems tasked with providiing it with raw materials. But the forge ran out of raw materials long ago. Each day, it produces a fully-functioning warforged, who emerges into the sealed complex sentient and aware - and each day, the three golems, implacably following their instructions, find the only available source of suitable raw materials for the creation forge: The warforged himself. After a desperate chase through the complex, he is hunted down, dismembered, and fed into the hoppers of the creation forge - which forges him anew the next day, with all his memories intact.
The warforged is smart and determined, and each day he learns more about the complex and explores new possible avenues of escape. But even mystical forging processes have wastage, and each time he is slain and reforged, he emerges a little weaker. Can he discover a solution to his cycle of torment before he grows too weak to take advantage of it?
100) No matter where the PCs travel, there is always a Sivis message stone (in the shape of a gnome) just at the edge of their vision. Traveling toward the stone won't bring it any closer.
101) As 99, but traveling toward the stone will bring it closer. Upon closer inspection the PCs not that the stone has the face of someone they once knew. The face is made of flesh, and touching it will cause the PC in question to relive some past moment that was shared with the person whos face is on the stone. After the moment is relieved the stone disappears forever.
102) As 100, but instead of forcing the character to relive some past moment, touching the stone places them into a Quori generated nightmare. There they must help the person they knew escape from some peril. The person may actually be trapped in Dal-Quor, or the whole experinece might be a figment of the PC's imagination.
104) They see a city which looks normal, but is populated by shadows. Not the monster, but humanoid darkened areas cast as if it were mid-afternoon. The shadows move, play, and act normally. The shadows grow longer and longer till they begin to fade. Once faded, they become real shadows and attack.
105) They come to a farmhouse, which looks to be in good repair and smoke rises from the chimney. If they observe for a while, a pile of stray nearby suddenly lifts up and pierces the house, causing it to bleed and pained shreaking can be heard from within. The house then burns down.
106) Near the Glowing Chasm horrid abberations hunt for living creatures. If caught, they will throw the captures creature into the chasm, mutating it into another abberation.
108) As the pcs walk through one of the empty towns they see a small human child wandering about. The child is not a zombie or a ghost, illusion, or some other supernatural creature, just a normal child. But where did he/she come from and how are they here?
109) As the party is walking through the Fied of Ruins there appears to be a person messing with one of the corpses. As they get closer they see its a hairless dwarf in bloody rags. He has a crazed look in his eyes and appears to be carving the flesh of one of the bodies skin off with a bloody dagger. They see there are a couple of them with their skin missing. The dwarf seems them and with blood around his lips "Hey who you? If you be lookin food this ones mine!! MINE!!!...(formless gibberish).....though you help me with this one..." If party starts leaving he waves and yells goodbye hope to see you sometime or invites them to next dinner....
110) As the party walks on through the land they walk by what appears to be a hole in the ground of about 2 foot radius and too dark to see the bottom. A horrible shriek followed by some giggling.
A voice, a obiously mad voice asks them to come down and help with a bug problem. If they refuse it then says it has magical (something the party is interested in). If they still refuse, it says it has candy.... etc.. over and over different things until the party leaves and then it whimpers and cries for them to come back and says its lonely and doesn't get any visitors.
If they go down....thats up for you to decide what happens.
77) Upon mounting the top of a large hill overloking Eston, the party hears a rumble as a large boulder rolls up suddenly, threatening to crush them, but at the critical moment, the boulder stops and roll backward down the hill. Once at the bottom, the party sees a regal looking man, garbed in the smock and robe of House Cannith, straining against the boulder, trying to push it up the hill, and succeeding only to have it roll down again. When asked who he is, he identifies himself as the late patriarch of House Cannith. When asked why, he simply says one word: "Torment", and with that he begins his task anew. A bard could convice him to temporarily halt his labor with a DC 30 Perform (sing) check, rewarding the performer with a House Cannith Artifact of considerable power.
Ohh, shades of Sisyphus! Melikes.
27. The voice of a crying woman that seems to come from no discernable location. If weapons are drawn it gets louder.
28. A ring of ghostly children who are dancing around a beaten gallows where the still fresh corpse of a woman hangs, gently swaying in the breeze. The children are holding hands and chanting ring around the rosy in somber voices. The children appear to be very badly burned, but do not notice their wounds.
29. The apparition of a bard hunched over the corpse of a fallen woman, playing a mournful tune on a mandolin (If you are familiar with Blackmore's Night, the tune he is play is entitled Beyond the Sunset).
30. A single childrens doll laying in a pool of blood. The sound of a crying child can be heard, but whenever a female character approaches the doll, the crying stops.
31. A small cluster of farm houses that appear deserted. Food still sits on the table, as if the family will return to their meal shortly. Upon the walls, written in blood, is a single word: Why?
32. A single weeping willow by the bank of a stream. The leaves continually drip moisture that is warm and salty. Beneath the tree is an unmarked cross.
33. A woman clutching two children. All three have been turned to stone, but the figure still weep.
This is good stuff. My players will never enter the mournlands again.
Cheers,
Save vs DM
Man... that's some disturbing stuff. I love it! Do you mind if I *snip* for when my players go through SoLW?
Here's my meager contribution...
113) In the middle of the wasteland, a single mad figure can be seen. A young human male, his hair turned prematurely white and his eyes as black as night. His entire left side is covered in a thick layer of Mournland glass that is harder then adamantine. While this glass fuses him to the cursed ground, at the same time it sustains him and has allowed him to live a tortured existence for the past 4 years. Any PC that comes within 20 feet can see an infinite sea of stars within his blind eyes, the void beckoning to them. Treat this as a DC 15 Gaze attack; if the a PC fails then they immediately fall to the ground in a haze, their eyes slowing turning into the madman's own.
If the PC's can brave the initial danger, they find that the man is quite alive, but also invariably insane. Four solitary years in the Mournland as well as his own warped sense of space and time has shattered the poor soul's mind. He responds to any questions or even the sound of another humanoid voice with mad rantings about "the horrible, gaping sky!" and Things That Man Was Not Meant To Know.
The exact details are left to the DM, but given that this man could very well be one of the few exact eyewitnesses of the Mourning, the conversation should be suitably cryptic and disturbing. Make daddy Hellcow proud boys!
The distrubance grows to colossal size and eventually it becomes impossible to see anything but a blur beyond the distrubance, like a steamy mirror. Then, another picture begins to overwrite reality: It is an image of a beautiful day just a few miles from Sharn. Suddenly a strobing piller of Blue light erupts from the ground, obliterating the city in an instant and continuing upwards into the sky.
To the horror of all, it traces along the sir and impacts the sun itself, which flares brightly and expands (fort save DC 20 vs. Blindness), only to explode in a flash of light. After the flash subsides and those who sav adjust to the light, the air returns to normal, the distotion in the air is gone, and it is once again a gloomy day in the mournland, like any other.
But the premonition still haunts the PCs. Was it merely a trick of the mind? A vision of things to come? A warning? A prophecy? An inevitability? Only the DM knows for sure...
This could spook the PCs, if you say suddenly "Your friends seem to be gone. In their place are horrible rotting corpses." It could also confuse them if they run into a scavenger group hunting for treasure.
116) A grand looking apple tree lies in the middle of a graveyard named Potter's Orchard. The apples from this tree are luscious and red, but are shaped to vaguely resemble a human face. An apple restores one who eats it as if from Hero's Feast, but the moment it's plucked the tree shivers and screams in pain. The apple, once bitten, replays in an instant the life of one who died and was buried in the graveyard, which may expose a few interesting plot hooks or serve as the end of a quest for information (...and the old sage said "seek out Potter's Orchard and eat the apple of Crastus, fallen general of Cyre, there ye shall find what you seek...)
117) There is a gargantuan hole in the ground, lined with jagged black rocks. Air is periodically sucked in and blown out of the hole in a steady rhythem, and the ground stirs and rumbles. Almost like the ground is breathing...
118) An entire town has turned invisible, and is only revealed on dewy mournings when the clinging water silohuettes the buildings. The area is abandoned, save for the ghost of a young Cyran soldier who searched the mists for his inivisble home until the day he died. If the party can lead him to his home while the dew exposes it, he may reward them generously.
121) A pair of huge statues carved so that they depict two knights crossing swords in a duel. The statues never move, but the statues continually yell insults, curses, and battlecries, at one another. The statues are linked to a Shaverath manifest zone, extending weapon-like spells, impeding emotion calming spells, and occasionally causing swarms of flying blades to appear.
122) In the distance, an explosion flashes followed by a boom. Then it happens again in the exact same fashion. And again. Moving closer, the party can hear screams that repeat eerily again and again in a steady rhythm. After movng forward about quarter mile they see in the midst an explosion that consumes all within, which turns out to be the source of the screams. However, as soon as the blast dissipates, the PCs feel wind suck inward as time reverses itself to the moment of the blast, causing the victims to revive and the blast to happen over and over again. The PCs may be able to rescue the people inside the blast radius using a well timed resilient sphere or similar spell, but any caught within the blast radius are disintegrated, and become part of the recurring explosion.
124) Same thing as before, but the dead have animated as ghouls and attempt to feed upon one another or any corpse the treant passes and does not pick up.
125) A living death knell/inflict light wounds spell has gone insane, if that is even possible, trying to feed on the long dead corpses lying about and attacks anything, including rocks and other inanimate objects.
127) A normal house sits in a valley, and a man is doing chores inside. He seems quite sane and unaffected by the Mourning. He claims he was there and saw it all, but refuses to tell the PCs anything.
128) A dead woman in peasant's clothes lies in the road. She is young and there seems to be no reason for her to have died. In her pocket is a white rose.
66) A band of ghostly children march through a battle field (with the usual preserved corpses) searching for the bodies of their relatives. When a relative is found, one (or maybe a few) ghostly child (children) break from the parade with a soul wrenching wail and sinks into the earth next to the corpse. Were the child disapears, a black rose, with gaping holes in the leaves and petals, apears.
This one made me vaguelly sick . . .
"Mother," wailed a transparent child, breaking away from the lost souls to a small female body, and her voice now a whimper, "Mother, why did you leave me here. Mother . . ."
A man weiring the preistly robes of the Chruch of the Silver Flame, stepped up to her and said, "Your journey is done, young child, be with your mother."
His holy symbol glowed brightly for a second and the spectral child vanished screaming. A small black rose appeared in her place, with a broken stem and only a few petals.
I can't raed the rest. i got to 109 but I feel horrible after just reading some of these things, even if it is just musings on some imaginary game . . .
I can't raed the rest. i got to 109 but I feel horrible after just reading some of these things, even if it is just musings on some imaginary game . . .
VICTORY!
129) In the middle of an abandoned building a powerful demon lies bound to a conjurer's circle. As an immortal creature, he was not affected by the mourning, and in fact he may know its secret. But is the party willing to free him, a duke of hell, to get the answer? Would the Demon be truthful?
131) A cadaver collector wanders by, on it are the bodies of the PC's family members, all crying out for help and reaching for the PC.
Investigating the ship the characters find the remains of a Morgrave University expedition that was investigating the Mornlands. Things inside the Ship can only be called messy Items that were not tied down or secured are smashed all over the place imbedded into walls, floors the only thing of interest is found the Expedition leaders desk. Inside a small 4 inch cube Cage made with Riedran Crysteel is a tiny Living spell of Faerie Fire and a paper note on the capture of 4 larger specimens in the hold. When they get to the hold they find the remains of the crew and 4 broken cages and a shimmering portal hanging the air with a view of the Towers of Sharn.
133. In an abandoned house, an open journal sits on the table, the date the day of the Mourning. The entry speaks of a young woman's joy at going to visit her uncle in Sharn, who promises her an end to her wartime worries.
134. An old man/woman sitting upon a hill, overlooking a ruined town, silent tears running down his face. If pressed into conversation he will explain that he wanted to return to his home one last time before he died, even if his home doesn't really stand anymore.
135. An old home with a painting of several young men, obviously Cyran soldiers. All men look happy and are smiling. The house is filled with commong things, and shows no signs of the mourning. It looks like someone could come in at any minute, but of course, no one lives there now...
136. A house filled with a folded wedding dress, looking ready to be worn. Around the room are scattered various accoutriments that a woman would use to prepare for a wedding. A small painting of a handsome man sits on the table, and a dozen red roses still sit in a vase, untouched and still fresh.
137. A childs music box sits inside a house, still playing a merry tune that many young girls would love to see. It never seems to need winding and keeps playing for all time.
138. Upon the wind come the sounds of a funeral chant, voices filled with emotion and praise for a fallen Son of Cyre. It seems to be coming from an old village, barely fifteen houses and a small smithy. An open grave still lies in the small graveyard, along with a casket. No bodies can be seen anywhere.
I do so love this thread. It's given me a lot of good ideas.
Cheers,
Save vs DM
I can't raed the rest. i got to 109 but I feel horrible after just reading some of these things, even if it is just musings on some imaginary game . . .
I am going to be depresed all day now. . .
I read all of these like a week ago before I went to bed and I was scared =(.
142.) (similar idea) The characters come across a group of corpses - their own.
143.) The characters run across a group of mixed warforged who seem confused yet delighted to meet the characters. At least one of the warforged will declare that this is an impossible trick - another will declare that this is a great opportunity. The rest of the warforged are curious about the characters' homes, lives, daily activities, etc ... but will not approach or speak to a warforged PC, and will react with fear and shame if a warforged PC tries to interact with them. When the warforged and the PC's part ways, the PC's will overhear "I told you this plain was haunted." "Yeah, there hasn't been a fleshling alive on Eberron for over a thousand years."
141.) The PC's shadows have been replaced with living images of the characters. However, as the characters walk, the shadow-images become filthy, as if they were being dragged through the muck or dirt that the characters are walking in/on. When a shadow's head goes down a hole, it begins to thrash and shake. When it does underwater, it begins to drown. Eventually the shadows figure out that the characters are responsible for their suffering and will silently beg the characters to stop moving. If the characters don't halt or don't notice, eventually they will notice as the shadows begin to hate them for their torment. And it gets worse. As the daylight changes, the shadows will lengthen or compress, depending on the light, but not without consequence: long shadows stretch as if they are being torn apart on the rack and compressed shadows are a bag of pulped bones and organs (their bodies were crushed in order to fit into that space). Eventually, the characters will be bound to an image of their savagely broken corpse. Maybe the next day the shadows will return to normal. Or maybe during the night the shadows will rise and take their revenge for the brutal deaths they suffered.
142.) (similar idea) The characters come across a group of corpses - their own.
143.) The characters run across a group of mixed warforged who seem confused yet delighted to meet the characters. At least one of the warforged will declare that this is an impossible trick - another will declare that this is a great opportunity. The rest of the warforged are curious about the characters' homes, lives, daily activities, etc ... but will not approach or speak to a warforged PC, and will react with fear and shame if a warforged PC tries to interact with them. When the warforged and the PC's part ways, the PC's will overhear "I told you this plain was haunted." "Yeah, there hasn't been a fleshling alive on Eberron for over a thousand years."
awesome ideas man, I'm so gonna use these !!
66 version B)) A band of ghostly children march through a battle field (with the usual preserved corpses) searching for the bodies of their relatives. When a relative is found, one (or maybe a few) ghostly child (children) break from the parade with a soul wrenching wail and sinks into the earth next to the corpse. Were the child disapears, a pure white rose apears, and an expresion of peace and content apeares upon the lifeless features of the dead parent next to whom the rose blossoms.
146) A large cave looms up before the PCs. A deep blue-ish glow issues from its mouth, acompanied by a gust of stagnet wind, which rustles the PC's hair and pulls at their clothing. After a few second of standing before the cave, it suddenly dawns on anyone with long hair or wearing a loose garment that the wind is actualy being sucked into the cave from the outside, and that it feels asthough it is trying to pull them in as well.
(At this point, each PC makes a will save, of a DC aproperiately difficult for characters of the parties average level. To those who beat the save, the wind seems to recede, as does the blue glow. To those who fail, read the following.)
*The wind seems to pull in an almost urgent manner upon your clothing and hair. Then, the voices begin. At first, they are indistinguishable and hard to make out, but after a moment, the voices become dreadfully clear, and you recognize them, each and every one, to be a facsimilie of your own. Some scream for help, some weep for forgiveness, some demand that you right a terible wrong which you have not yet suffered. An irrisitable urege to enter the cave overcomes you, and with the voices wispering seductively in your ears, you march twords the cavern entrance.*
148) A city survived the mourning, and all it's citizens are safe. The only problem? It sank into a lake. And now all of the inhabants, having grown gills as a result of the mourning, can't leave or they'll "drown" on dry ground.
149) a whirlwind of body parts is actually an elder air elemental gone insane, who now only lives only as a whirlwind, racing across the gray plains, carrying corpses that occasionally expel from his form, raining bodies for miles
150) An invisible stalker with a noose preys on travelers, roping their necks and hanging them from the nearest tree
151) The Characters have persistent nightmares about being trapped in a small, dark space. They believe they are unable to move and contantly cry out in their sleep. They never can get any good, wholesome sleep and act as if they got 4 hours ( or 2 for the elves) of sleep. Then, on the 13th night, the dreams stop. They wake up to find themselves in the dream, only they are really there. On the 13th day of this, they go back to the real world, their bodies having not eaten, slept, or dranken in 13 days. This continues and they become proggressivly more uptight and afraid. They eventually become claustrophobic and afraid of the dark. Eventually, they will die, as their bodies won't be able to sustain that level of fasting. No magic can ward this of.
She went outside to see what the commotion was, I can’t find her!! Please travelers, have you seen her? If the players shine a light in the direction of the voice they barley make out the figure of a woman’s Ghost dressed in peasant cloths.
It is up to the players if they help her or if they ignore her at no time does she approach the camp and stays away from any light source.
153) the characters come across a small section of a larger battle field there is a shaft of sun light centered on a pair of figures holding each other. If the players approach this strange occurrence they see three figures in this manifestation the two hold each other in their last moments in this plane. Is an odd couple to be sure a warforged is cradling a female tiefling who is frozen in her last moments caressing the warforged face. Both have signs of heavy combat that took their lives. “Excuse me, would you go away!”
The voice is coming from behind the characters. The voice is coming from a male specter dress in combination of chain mail and leather. “All right shove off! Go away! You heard me GO! The specter is the traitor who betrayed his side because he was jealousy of Grey the Warforge. If the players don’t move or begin to attack the specter he retreats as fast as he can. Cursing That Machine as he flees. If he is held or destroyed he escapes or reforms were his body lays were forever to be reminded that she loved another.
Keep in mind, the party is still human. They can be reasoned with. A diplomacy check, calm emotion spell, or A restoration spell to cure their damaged Wisdom scores should do the trick and restore their sanity. If such a thing occurs, I would recommend rewarding the PCs with a juicy plot hook or have the newly-sane party inform the PCs of a danger down the road, allowing them to either circumvent the danger or help them overcome it.
156. A small halfling caravan is parked near a stream, all of the halflings looking malnourished and underfed. If the PC's offer to help guide them out, they are greateful and the eldest woman offers to tell their fortunes for free as thanks for the kind deeds. She asks each PC to draw five cards. Once all PCs who wish to have their fortunes told have drawn cards, tell them that they have just drawn five cards from a Deck of Many Things.
Cheers,
Save vs DM
Belkar the halfling ranger meets Yikyik the kobold ranger, and so on. The other party, however, is better in every way. If Belkar has a +2 shortsword, Yikyik has a +3 shortsword. If Grog has 17 STR, Mrog has 18 STR. the opposing party attacks the PCs. After the PCs win somehow, the enemies corpses change to an older version of theirs.
Careful examination of the room reveals a very strong illusion spell, and a spell to do with time travel...
Treat the room as an eldritch machine. Possibly create an adventure leading to how the PCs got trapped in the first place.
158. The PCs meet a man who sits in front of two shallow graves, marked with small wooden tomb"stones". If confronted, he asks one of the PCs to borrow a weapon for a second. If they refuse, he just sits silently and stares at the graves. If they do lend him a weapon, he performs suicide with it. His body quickly turns into some sort of semi-intelligent blood-ooze which quickly moves onto the graves and sinks into them, coloring the dirt red as it does so.
If the PCs are dumb enough to open the graves...well...that's up to the DM. I'd suggest something like two red-colored skeletons, one normal and one halfling-sized, attacking the PCs while screaming insanely. >_>
152) ... She was wearing a brown dress with some little blue beads sewn into the shapes of lilies around the edge...
Brown dress with blue beads? That's just cruel! :D
159: A pool of water, no more than two feet by six feet. The water is dark but looks, smells, and tastes fresh. Lighting the pool (i.e. a torch held over it) reveals a young woman in a white gown, perfectly preserved and composed, as if freshly laid out. If someone drinks from the pool (water to cupped hand to mouth or directly only), a hand will reach out of the pool and gently caress that person's face. The woman's eyes will also open and follow that person around. That person gets a wish, but since she only communicates nonverbally, that person has no way of knowing until he says something, perhaps days or weeks later, that he may later regret.
160: A scantily-dressed living woman, tied between two stone pillars, quietly waiting for whatever end comes. If they approach, she'll beg that her end comes quickly. They could also find out from talking to her that she is the latest sacrifice intended to spare her village from the Mourning. Her village is nearby and indeed spared the effects of the fog. Everyone in that village is openly friendly, pretty much apesomething insane, and will quietly plan for the party's demise in any number of horrid ways, because they believe that killing outsiders and sacrificing their own numbers are the only ways that they can save their village. (The Mourning avoided the village for other reasons having nothing to do with the sacrifices. It'd take some investigating to figure out what, though.)
161: The gigantic unnatural creature that had been eating the sacrifices from #160 above.
The only way out is thru the cemetary. And if the party has not figured this out yet they will make several trips from the cemetary back to the town.
One room has a number of fresh (but empty) coffins with the PC's names carved into it!
The PC's will be unable to loot any of the buildings in the town.
164) A looted sorcerer's tower. The treasure is not the sorcerer or his tower, but whatever the looters bear (the last group did not get out). A living spell calls this place home (it should be nasty enough to threaten the PC's).
The last group of adventurers wear the magic items/treasure for the encouter, and will groan as the items are pulled off--making looting the dead a rather gruesome affair. One may verbalize..."No that's mine!" or "I wanted to give that ring to my son." Or an accusation, "Thief!" One dead body near the exit calls after the party, "Theiving Ba*****'s!"
165) One of the body's (from 164) is rather attached to his possessions. And the body keeps turning up wherever the party travels to in the Mournlands.
If this is not played out right, it could be comical, so you may not choose to do this.
BUT, the PC with the looted item sees the same body lieing amidst the dead at least once a day. Perhaps he is the only one to see it, and the other PCs may begin to question him. If he opens a book, he will see the word, "Thief" on every page (no one else will). Paintings will look at him disaprovingly and mouth the words, 'theiving Bas****!"
Little things like that happen as long as the PC is in Cyre. Nothing bad will happen, but played right the PC should get a growing feeling of menace. Like when the party wakes up and EVERYONE sees the corpse lying just outside the party campsite!
The haunting stops when the party leaves the Mournlands. But the PC just might willingly give up the item. Placing it back on the corpse ends the haunting--for that PC. Now a new PC starts getting visitations...
Strange things go on in South Eston these days as well. A monster of fearsome strength has moved in, and the mourning has turned him invisible, however, when touched by rays from the light of South Eston, it becomes perfectly visible. The monster is working in concert with the will-o-the-wisps, having them draw prey to satisfy in unseen hunger.
168) The players moving along the edge of the mourn lands will notice if they make a (Save vs. Will DC 30) a 4 foot high monolith made of Astral Driftmetal capped with a Khyber Shard covered in ancient Draconic runes. The monolith flickers in and out of the astral plane. If someone makes the will save they can view the monolith without forgetting it is there. Other wise they forget it is there and do their best to avoid the monolith or view it.
169) the players come across a small caravan outside the mournlands that is camped for the night. If the players investigate the find it very quiet in fact they walked into the area of a living silence spell the only problem is it’s friends the Gibbering Mouthers that are hunting down the caravans populace.
Just to add my own nightmares to the collection:
(170)
The characters come to a lonely village. The only sound they hear are screams of lust and pain mingled together. It's coming from a single house, near the town square. When the characters investigate, they'll find a young man and woman, engaged in the act of loving. What the characters see will be too much for them (DC 30 Will Save or panicked): The flesh of the couple has been fused together, and worms and maggots are eating their ways through the bodies. But each second, the flesh heals, and the wounds the parasites cause close again. The couple is captivated in pleasure and torment, for all eternity.
(171)
Near a tree, the characters find the corpse of a human girl. Next to the corpse, a slaine horrid rat lies there. From the tree, the body of a human soldier hangs, softly swinging in the breeze. He holds a letter in his hand, reading "Forgive me my daughter, that I couldn't save you."
(172)
The characters come to a river that is flowing red with blood and they see some people in it. When they get closer, they see that the adults are bound, while a young girl walks up and down before them. In front of each adult, she stays and slits their bellies open with a long knife, saying "Please forgive me dad", "Please forgive me, mom", "Please forgive me, uncle", whatever is appropriate. After she has maimed all of her family, she walks up and down again, this time pouring her tears on the wounds, which then heal. Then she continues to slit her relatives open again...
(172)
Each night, each character finds a single bone in his hand when waking up. On the bone is a single word inscribed: "Help"
(173)
After a night of rest, suddenly each character is alone. Each character is incorporeal, and made improved invisible by the strange magic of the Mournlands.
(174)
The party discovers two wizards, one from Cyre, one from Breland, both seperated from their troops and engaged in a magical duell. The whole scene is as if frozen in time, with one wizard discharging a lightning bolt, and the other one trying to raise a lesser globe. Both casters have a maccabre mirror image: instead of whole images, only parts of their bodies are mirrored; the skeleton is one image, as is the nervous system, the muscles, and the blood vessels, also the internal organs form a differnt image for the spell.
_Ra-Tiel.
Everyone is dead, as you'd expect. All the coins in the area have been changed. The head side no longer bears the traditional image (usually Galifar I) but instead the face of whoever last touched the coin. The expression matches that held at the moment of the mourning.
The coins are of course no longer legal tender. If several are melted down, an audible scream can be heard coming from the metal. If only one or two are melted at the time, the screams are inaudible to all but the keenest ears.
A few places and faces:
-A man lies fallen in the street next to a stall, the coins which fell from his hand all bear a horrifed expression.
-A changeling shopkeeper, slumped over his counter, has some coind under his hand. The face is that of a bored but handsome half-elf.
-In a tavern, a man's corpse at the bar carries coins in his purse. In the right light you can see his tipsy expression blush in the copper's shine.
-The Cyrian Society for Peace was collecting for their charity on a street corner. The coins in the bucket show dozens of faces from around the town.
-In the home of an explorer, there is a chest full of ancient coins from the Dhakanni empire. While the uppermost coins bear the face of the explorer (who was halfway through a haircut at the time) the deeper coins bear hobgoblin skulls. Some of them are broken and some of them show nothing more than specks of bone.
-At an interrupted funeral, the casket is still lying open, and the old woman inside has a serene expression, which is matched by the gold coin on each of her eyes.
-In a safe, the party finds a purse of platinum coins bearing the face of the person who hired them to go look at the town. All of the faces are laughing. Did he happen to hear a hilarious joke at that moment, or is something more sinister going on?
Of course, this could be useful as a clue if your players are looking for someone who passed through here before the day of mourning.
Have they gone mad? or there something else going on here? Who is the cloaked figure in the distance the Scouts run to when they hear a whistle revealing the approaching party?
(177) Along the river across from Loom Keep, the party see's a woman in pearlescent robes walk towards the last few tree's living on the edge of the Mournland. She kneels before it, and brings it down with a single swipe of her Scythe. She brings her scythe down on the remaining 20 tree's. The screams in the wind begging for help can be heard for the next 3 days, and 3 nights.
Is it the Trees wailing? Or did the trees have a fae bound to it, and those are the screams of the dying dryads. Who is the woman in the robes and why does she only come out during the height of the full moon?
(178) Angwar Keep is under attack by a small army of Warforged (1 Human Artificer, 16 Warforged Fighters, 3 Warforged Scouts, 2 Warforged titans) across the river. Thier seige engines hurling rocks, and fire are buffeting the walls. In the mist covered mornings the sounds of something being built can be heard. For 2 days and nights the onslaught continues unabated, until from the mists can a bridge be seen. Large enough for the titan's to cross and level the Keep. It will be less than a full day before the bridge is completed.
Can the Party defeat the Warforged? What's really going on? Is the bridge a diversion or the vanguard of a much larger force testing the resistance of the Keep's Tactical Position?
(179) A young girl is to marry another man, but she is kidnapped from Vathirond by a jealous House Heir whom she'd previously rebuked his advances. During the flight with his personal soldiers, they cross into the Mournland. A day later, the Heir's horse rides alone back out, blood splayed with arrows in it's barding.
Is the girl alive? is the heir alive? Is this an elaborate ruse by the party's archnemisis to capture or kill them?
The Father and the House representitive both (without knowing) hire the party to find the girl and the Heir. The captain of the guard however, offers an additional reward to leave the girl in the Mournland. Is the tracker that comes along with the party working for the Father or the House? Or is there something more sinister afoot?
(180) A jeweled necklace is forsale by a travelling halfling merchant who skirted the Mournland, but doesn't speak nor read common. Engraved on the back are the Royal House of Cyre's family crest.
Who did it belong to? Where did he get it? Tracing his steps for the last few weeks brings up more questions than it answers. Maybe someone sold it to him, maybe he killed someone for it. Maybe the royal family member is still alive.
Anyways, my addition to the Mournland:
(181) Investigating the ruins of a Cyran village, the PCs find no trace of the normally everpresent undecaying corpses. The Mourning wiped the corpses from the face of the earth (or maybe a carcass crab collected them). Now, the restless spirits of the villagers crave bodies and sensations. They start hounding the PCs, trying to merge their incorporeal forms with the PCs' bodies and fooling themselves that they're incarnating. Apart from a cold tingle, and the creeping idea that an undead apparation is somehow moving inside you, following your every movement, this does no harm...or does it?
(183) An obsidian black unicorn lies near her mate: a nightmare. Both are watchers over a grove of trees which mysteriously flourish. They are quite mad and the trees need blood to flower...
(185) Some of the PCs' gear loses corporeality over night. (Of course, the party is attacked in the morning!) Once every couple of rounds, the afflicted items turn incorporeal (still visible as a dense patch of mist roughly shaped like the item) or back corporeal. Or maybe the items behave once every few rounds as if they've got the Ghost Touch ability?
Editted to correct messed-up entry-number.
188) The PC's find some kind of reflective surface (mirror, pool of water, etc.) where images constantly appear. Apparently these images replay the last 60 seconds of life of every person who died in the Mourning (assuming that was a million and a half people, it would take two years and ten months to play them all). These images are neither illusory or divinational in nature It is entirely possible for the PC's to see images of people they knew. Whether or not the images are true is anyone guess.
189) One random non-magical object that a random PC is carrying becomes magical (and intelligent). It's attributes and abilities may be determined randomly, or the DM may drop in any item he likes. It's a good bet that the item's desires and goals will be counter to the party's.
190) At some random point during a battle, all participants are healed of all hit point & ability damage (but not raised). Not just the PC's; everybody.
191) During a 24 hour period, all missile weapons halt in mid-air as soon as they leave the PC's hands (not including rays or other results from spells, such as magic missile). The next day, the PC's are all right again (or as all right as you can be in the Mournland).
192) During the next hour, a random PC knows the name and the name of the next of kin of every corpse he sees. The ability ends after the hour, but the affected PC's remembers all the information.
34)
35) A large, monolithic obelisk jutting out of the ground. In the center of the great black rock is a huge (the size of a man's head) eye, its gaze darting back and forth from one person to another.
Whoa... Would you believe I had a dream about such an obelisk the other day?
Whoa... Would you believe I had a dream about such an obelisk the other day?
....
Oh man, now I'm creeped out by myself.
(This scene is actually my house from after Hurricane Andrew, only the stove was a fridge that got pulled off the wall and spun around (the cord was wrapped around the bottom). Still can't figure out how water got int the glass....)
196.) Mounts and beasts of burden are terrified in the Mournlands, requiring characters to "push" them once each day. A successful check means the mount will behave normally for that day. If a character fails on his Handle Animal check, the animal bolts as fast as possible towards the nearest possible exit from the Mournlands.
This one is a variation on #153
197.) The PC's come across what appears in the distance to be a statue of two people embracing in a final, loving kiss. As they get a little closer, they realise that it is actually a statue of a Warforged and a female human. Finally, if they approach the statue, they see that it is in fact an real, living Warforged. He remains perfectly still holding the woman tightly, his "lips" pressed to hers in an eternal kiss. The woman was his love and was petrified in this final embrace as the cataclysm that befell the Mournlands swept over them both. For some reason the Warforged was unaffected.
He has not moved a single inch since the tragedy occurred those many years ago, preferring to stay locked in the embrace of the woman who once loved him. He will not speak to anyone and will not willingly be separated from his true love. He is quite insane and cannot be reasoned with. If he is forced away from her or if she is disturbed, destroyed or attacked in any way, he will fly into a rage and attack the party mercilessly and to the death.
No item is so horribly warped that it becomes unusable, but the more bodies they investigate, the more faces form upon their equipment.
Can you imagine the looks they'd get going anywhere? And what of a relative of one dead on the Day of Mourning who recognizes the face locked in an eternal scream in the center of the fighter's shield?
[EDIT] And if you have an intelligent item that can speak, imagine it now talking using the face imprinted upon its surface.
From the mundanely creepy department of my brain... (and feel free to use anything I post on these boards! That's why I post them!)
133. In an abandoned house, an open journal sits on the table, the date the day of the Mourning. The entry speaks of a young woman's joy at going to visit her uncle in Sharn, who promises her an end to her wartime worries.
134. An old man/woman sitting upon a hill, overlooking a ruined town, silent tears running down his face. If pressed into conversation he will explain that he wanted to return to his home one last time before he died, even if his home doesn't really stand anymore.
135. An old home with a painting of several young men, obviously Cyran soldiers. All men look happy and are smiling. The house is filled with commong things, and shows no signs of the mourning. It looks like someone could come in at any minute, but of course, no one lives there now...
136. A house filled with a folded wedding dress, looking ready to be worn. Around the room are scattered various accoutriments that a woman would use to prepare for a wedding. A small painting of a handsome man sits on the table, and a dozen red roses still sit in a vase, untouched and still fresh.
137. A childs music box sits inside a house, still playing a merry tune that many young girls would love to see. It never seems to need winding and keeps playing for all time.
138. Upon the wind come the sounds of a funeral chant, voices filled with emotion and praise for a fallen Son of Cyre. It seems to be coming from an old village, barely fifteen houses and a small smithy. An open grave still lies in the small graveyard, along with a casket. No bodies can be seen anywhere.
Sorry, only just found this. Gotta say, even more than the weirdness, I love the whole "there were lots of people living their lives here. They're all dead" thing.
Varianr on 133:
199: Amongst a set of soldiers, the party find one writing a letter. The letter is to a loved one, saying how relieved he is to have finally got out of the dump he'd been in over the last few months, and has finally been moved to Cyre. The letter is unfinished
200: The PCs find a travelling fair. Brightly coloured cover the grounds, and happy music and the sound of laughter can be heard somewhat distantly, but there are no people or bodies anywhere. There are a hall of mirrors, rides (be imaginative on what carnival rides can be done in Eberron), some illusions on display, freak shows, houses of horrors, and unmanned food stalls whose food has since turned foul.
201: A shape roams the land, causing incredibly rapid plant growth in the area. Forests and bushes spring out of the ground almost like fountains. However, as soon as the shape moves on, these plants wither and crumble as quickly as they appeared.
Have anyone here read a certain stephen king novel?
After all, what works better than finding *GASP* survivors, huddled in a house...moments after the PCs enter, a fog rolls in. It's thick enough to give them mere meters of sight at best. In the darkness beyond, beings like Living black tentacle spells, horrid monstrous spiders, pseudonatural mephits, horrid giant eagles and worse prowl... the fog refuses to lift, and these beings all navigate via smell...instead of hearing or vision.
A warforged can get away easily, if he washes and doesn't touch his teammates. but what about the humanoids?
<,<
Edit: indexed
edit: removed index-nag
205) All who touch the purple light of the chasm are driven insane with its arcane power, but this power manifests in different ways. Of late, animals and vermin that would otherwise never possess the strength of personality have developed warlock powers and have begun preying on travelers.
The city is Sharn.
207. While traveling across the Mournlands, the party comes to a HUGE city hidden in a deep valley. The place is just fantastic, with towers almost too tall to take in with one glance, large enough to house buildings inside, skybridges connecting them, and all kinds of other miraculous architecture. No city like it has ever existed in Cyre. It covers several square miles, and like other places in the Mournlands it is populated only by the undisturbed dead.
The city is Sharn.
Nice.208) Known for their talent in breeding hunting dogs, the ir'Tamaress were a Cyran noble family held in high regards in their homeland. Before the Mourning they bred masterful hunting dogs for all the young nobles, during a time in which hunting was quite popular. Also a family versed in diplomacy, their close-knit country club hunting companions were able to pull many strings and call in a sizeable amount of favors for their benefit, being noble-bred as they were.
Legend has it that on the night of the Mourning, the ir'Tamaress grand estate was sparred a physical destruction, though left in ruin nonetheless. According to the myth the Tamaress-bred hounds went utterly mad, driven insane by the Mourning. They proceeded to visciously attack and maul any they crossed paths with, until all that remained was the stain of death. To this day the supposed ir'Tamaress estate is home to a roving pack of yeth hounds, some fifty strong. Such a gathering of beasts has discouraged treasure hunters from attempting to plumb the depths of the estate for treasure, but a few of the yeth hounds have been killed, with a most disturbing and common occurance accompanying these kills. As one of the yeth hounds dies, in its final spasms it convulses and vomits something up. It collapses to the ground, finally dead, as the reguritated mass squirms, and then begins to cry. An infant's cry.
Closer inspection reveals it to be a human newborn baby. Both males and females have been found after killing these specific yeth hounds, and some have been brought out of the Mournland to be cared for by foster parents. It is unknown the exact significance of this phenomenon, but the children are getting older, and have so far remained quite healthy. In fact, a few may even be old enough to speak a few words...
Other than being an unpleasant place to look at, nothing bad happens.
213) a magnificent manor sitting in the middle of no where. As the party approches they see that every thing, the walls, the roof, the things inside of the house, are made from stll bleeding flesh and bone.
214) A town where all of the clothes are animated going about their nomal lifes, taking, working, playing etc, and knit new children instead of giving birth
215) a creature covered with barbed tentecles, bleeding from dozens of wounds. To hurt the party the beast cuts it self. Killing it seriously injures a party member ( maybe kills him)
216) same as above but if party member dies, he resurects the next day and transforms in to one of these beasts and begins to hunt his former friends.
217) a pile of loot. if the party tries to take sometheng they are assaulted by winds screaming " PUT THAT BACK!"
The party find a small girl, dirty, ragged and unhappy, but alive and well. She apparently has been susbsisting off what knowledge her farmer parents taught her to forage; interestingly, the mutated, sparse vegitation and aniamls of the mournland are purified by her touch, and she heals the small portions of the land as she goes (she can heal the PCs), however the corruption soon returns. The girl is frightened and lost, and the PCs are the only people shes seen in the years since the Mourning. If the Pcs attempt to take her out of hte Mournland however she sickens within a fortnight, at which point her gift starts to corrupt normal life into the horrors of the mournland, she doesn't die for 3 months but becomes an invalid one month after being removed from the Mournland. Food and water turn grey, to ash or blood etc. and seem barely to keep her alive. The only way to heal her is to return her to the Mournland, where she must live; the only one who can survive there, condemned to a lonely elife.
220: Once the PC’s reach the peak of a hill, cliff etc. a visible semi-transparent multi-colored dome surrounds a small village. In the center of the village is a 40ft tower (50ft total with a large pole), the dome seems to be centered at the peak of the tower and covers the majority of the village, the parts of the village that are not covered and appear to be rubble, while the rest seem to be persevered…(this is completely left open)
221: An obvious entrance to a cave has been barricaded. Deep (very deep) within the cave are survivors of the Mourning…It would appear that a small town has made their home here. The people seem to have a magical artifact the can create food and drink at will!
222: PC’s come to the ridge of what was once forest, the trees are now blackened and withered. Deep within the wasted forest blackened trees have been turned into living constructs, VERY much like the warforded. In fact a warforded has discovered them and has been teaching them…
223: PC’s discover a Temple of the Sovereign Host within the temple nine priest (one for each god) worshiping their Sovereign. The priest dare not exit the temple in fear that breaking the blessing that their gods have given them…
224: PC’s discover a small pond where the water is 100% clear. A white sand spreads about 15’ from the edge of the water in all directions (including underneath it). The pond radiates with magic and no evil creature can get within 15’ of the pond, however the protection does not prevent missile weapons from evil beings to enter. The water is pure and has the ability to heal wounds (1hp/1hr while touching the water or something like that) Buried under the sand (under the water), is a greater dragonshard attuned to House Jorasco (this should be extremely difficult to find and is NOT in the center).
Remember, just there are probably issues or something odd about all of these (except 224, but you can have a great encounter with evil critters to offset things) Maybe, some survivors are content with the way they are, maybe others want to leave but are afraid, or maybe some are willing to go but are being prevented by the leader of the survivors. Others could be some peoples could have deformities and where actually rescued after the Mourning etc.
A very large Warforged Titan comes out of the mist, and sees them. It's head is surrounded by sickening yellow-green flames, and the construct's features are overlain by the spectral visage of the fiend possessing the construct. The warped and distorted spectral body of the fiend seems to trail after every motion the warforged makes as the trapped and insane fiend screams, and the Titan heads for them...
226) As above, heavy footsteps, but this time, a half-fiend tyrannosaur looms out of the mists and gives a happy cry on seeing fresh meat. It looks impossibly gaunt, almost skeletal, but that doesn't change its hunger at all...
For even more fun, give it some elite barbarian halfling riders in a hookah, all with filed teeth and gibbering with laughter as they shoot bone-tipped arrows that wail in the air...
227) A swathe of ground, blasted to sand in a cone, purest, unnerving white. Nothing grows there, and the mist seems to avoid the area entirely. It points a short distance away, where a viscous black smear bubbles and emits the Mournland mist, and each gasp of mist wails as it is pulled free of the corruption and rot and into the mist all about. Indeed, as the bubbles rip free of the tar-like filth, the oozing strands looks like malformed limbs trying in vain to hold onto the bubbles of screaming mist, as if clutching at peices of their souls...
228) A crowd of people on their knees, heads back and mouths open, flesh blasted off petrified bones, arms spread wide, yet clothes immaculate. They are all facing due east. A priest of Dol Aran leads this congregation who faced the doom coming for them.
229) Two lines of soldiers, swords buried point down in the glistening green grass. They wear the mark of Brell and Cyran troops. Some of them are clasping hands as warriors, and all have resolute expressions on their perfectly preserved faces from where they lay.
230) The ground rumbles, and a stampede is coming! The ground seems to be open and there is no cover. A screaming horde of Dhakaani troops bursts out of the mist, screaming in terror as they whip mounts, throw away weapons and shields, and otherwise run howling for their lives. Just behind this whole legion of troops are others...humans, mostly, but a wild assortment of races in varying gear and nationality.
Sharp eyed party members will notice the goblins are all undead. If they can survive the stampede, being trampled, and being swung at by goblins frantic to get them out of the way, and the people behind them, too, they are fine. If any PC's are killed, one round later their corpse rises and runs screaming after the rest of the stampede, bound to try and flee the Mournland with the rest of the victims of the fleeing Dhakaani.
===Aelryinth
232) An alternative to the above. A living Animate Object spell has gained sentience and moves from one object to another until it finds an object it likes, then stays there. Imagine the fun if it's favorite object is a PC's helmet, doubly so if it's impossible to dispell. The PC would have to reason with the spell, offering it alternative places to inhabit.
233) A salamander (or other suitable extra-planar creature) was summoned by a wizard on the Day of Mourning and was protected from the disaster by the Wizard's containment wards. The Wizard's wards broke down long ago, allowing the salamander to roam around as it pleases, but the salamander has no way to get back home. It offers a reward to the PCs if they can somehow get it out of this dead, dangerous, grim wasteland and back to it's lovely firepits.
235) I just have to do this one... the players walk into a strange mist (even for the Mournland), when they emerge, they find the kingdom of Cyre COMPLETELY INTACT. One slight problem... Dorothy, Toto and company ain't in Kansas anymore...or Eberron for that matter. Welcome to the newest Dread Realm of RAVENLOFT!
236) Traveling along, a purple mist settles over the area, lit periodically by green lightning. Horribly, the PCs now have to make a fort save or be mutated themselves! Succeeding the fort save results in some damage, but no mutation (leaving the numbers out on purpose...size them to the party and the threat you want). Mutation won't give the PCs any bonuses, but will sure give them negatives on social interaction.
238) At the center of a never-ending blizzard, one that glows an eerie shade of purple, a woman of pale and frail beauty dances and sings to Cyran folk song. Those that see her become entranced by the song, and when they sucumb to sleep their body is disintegrated into a fine violet dust that comprises the blizzard.
239) A man tills his fields in the middle of the mournland. When asked why, he states plainly that his children need to be fed. He invites the party in for a meal, and offers to shelter them against the mounrland horrors as best he can for a night. Upon reaching his hut, however, the party finds that the man's family, unlike the man himself is dead. What's more, they've risen as ghosts, haunting their former home and driving their father mad with grief.
240) As with 239, but instead of the man's family rising as ghosts, their corpses instead sit, propped up, at the kitchen table by the man.
241)The PCs are going through a town.It, like most towns, appears unchanged.However, after a while the PCs hear a sound behind them.Those who turn around to see a large statue, or something similar, following them.It has a living animate object on it.Once it catches up with the PCs, it will attack until either all the PCs are dead or it's current "body" is destroyed.If that happens, the living spell jumps onto another covenient thus starting the whole process over again.The PCs either have to stop the spell from jumping to another object, destroy everything in town, kill the living spell, or simply leave as quickly as possible.It won't leave the borders of the town.
242(?) Okay, this is totally unoriginal but I feel it's fitting. As the day pass a fog/mist forms. A while later humanoid shapes can be seen coming in the direction of the party; Zombies. Zombies that want, "Brains!" Completely immune to Turning or control and with out an initiative penalty, Zombies, as many as the DM wants, formed from fallen soldiers roam the Mournlands. They are in search of Brains to eat, the only thing that alleviates thier awareness of thier condition. They can respond to questioning but only say that they need to brains to no longer feel thier suffering. The only way to truly put them down is to destroy the head. Otherwise if brought down to 0 hp they will heal, stand up and join thier fellow zombies once more. If a Zombie is truly destroyed another New zombie soldier from some battlefield, somewhere in the Mournlands, "awakens" and joins the band of zomibes.-Gaunt's Ghost
the players come upen a school, blasted but still resonably intact. Inside the burned and blasted corpses a 'la nuclear bomb of the 5 grade students and their teacher still sit at the tables. On the blackboard someone has wiped half of the calculating lection and written in a badly shaken hand:
"And the lesson today is HOW TO DIE!"
246) same as above with this added: a bloody piece of chalk lies on the floor in front of the blackboard and bloody footprints lead from one torn opening in the classroom across it to the blackboard and on through the room, out another blasted opening.
They could belong to the principle of the school or an surviving but maimed teacher or student who now roam the halls of the school. He is flayed but alive, and quite insane.
247) The PC's shadows seem to be cast in different directions from one another.
248) Upon waking each PC that was sleeping (not on watch) has dreams of being attacked by a beast and wakes to find claw marks around them. The camp however, was not disturbed.
249) Dwarves find that they cannot stand the taste of ale
250) One of the PC's hair begins to slowly change color over the corse of a few days. This is permanment.
251) A lone Dirgesinger (See Liberas Mortus) is found walking around near the open graveyards singing laments to the corpses. As long as the PC's are within ear shot of his songs, no undead seem to rise. Any time the PC's try to communicate with the Bard, he looks at them and weeps, but continues doing his thankless task.
252) Anytime a cleric tries to use a cure spell, his hands go numb and he cannot move them for 2 rounds.
253) The PC's witness about 60 corpses rise (20 Cyre, 40 Thrane) and procedd to battle each other. The Cyrian soldiers continually call out to the PC's to fall in line and assist them. If the PC's help the Cyrian soldiers they lay down to rest for good once the battle is over. If they do not, the Thraneites start advancing on the party.
254) A child's corpse is fused into a wall at this torso, the child slowly scratches and claws slowly at the building and tries to attack the party, however, it can't move from it's spot.
255) As soon as one of the PC's tries to sleep (pick the biggest *******) he hears his mother's voice shriek in agony and it startles him awake. No one else hears the sound and the PC cannot sleep for the remainder of that night.
pls e-mail to :
[email]dulkar_draven@hotmail.com[/email]
thx!
Second, you better believe I'm going to use these when my characters get there....Will totally wig them out.
'Twas a good day, it was. Then again, I am a sadist...
257)While sleeping, each PCs hears and feels everything that happens to it's body. Bugs crawl over their face and into their mouth (maybe up the nose!), you hear a distant wolf howl at a moon that never sets. An ogre's growl right next to the ear and it's hot breath on the face. Maybe the din of some not-so-far-off battle. Despite the stimulus, the PCs cannot wake up, nor open their eyes until a full 8 hours have passed. They experience it all as a waking nightmare, although one that shouldn't affect them beyond creeping them out.
has anybody "stored" all this goodies in a pdf or word or text file?
In process, page one is compiled but needs formatting.
259) the players see a large group of people heading deeper into the mournlands they seam to be refuges who are lost in reality they will roam this land forever as ghosts.
260) haunting pipe music seams to be coming from up ahead when the player approach the music it seams to drift farther away till it gets to a woman with white hair and ivory skin her face is covered by her hair she continues to play no matter what the players do if the move the hair away from her face she has no face.
261.) The PCs lose time. They seem to be running out of supplies faster than they thought. Seem to be standing in the midst of battle while they were previously camping. They are not all losing time at once, some members can recall having detailed conversations with the ones that have lost time, which could have spanned any given amount of time, minutes, hours, days.
262.)Similar to the one above. The PCs finally make it home after accomplishing the task they went to the Mournland for. They spend some time at home, recounting their events, talking with friends, having a decent meal, when they slowly realize that they aren't really home, they never made it home. Little things are different, like people not remembering them, or their favorite pub closing down for no reason, or people they know to be dead they share a casual conversation with. When the feeling of wrongness hits them, they immediately snap back to reality, not knowing how that happened. It doesn't have to happen while they sleep either, just suddenly, they are standing, in the Mournland, weeping, screaming... "This can't be happening!" Roll a sanity check!
263.)Slow, droaning music starts to play over the terrain, a dirge, slowly building... slowly making you sad, or angry, reminding you of how much you hate the other PCs... Why did you come here? It was all the wizard's idea, right? You hate the wizard, and his superiority complex. A well placed dagger in his neck should do the trick. (wizard is killed by the rogue) Music still plays... Why did you come here? It was all the paladins idea, right? You hate the paladin and all his hypocrisy...
264. As the PCs enter the Mournlands, they start to experience short spurts when they're short of breathe, which after a few days feels like choking feelings. This goes on for a week, fatiguing them, as it feels as they can never find enough air to breathe normally. After 7 days a random PC goes into a coughing fit and dislodges a bloody piece of dirt from his throat, that looks to have bits of his own lungs and aesophagus in it. He/She is unharmed but probably should be shaken up. A few days later the whole group experience the same thing, except the coughing causes full body tremors and spasm, racking them with pain. The same random PC from before starts to feel something moving underneath his/her skin on the left arm, and when examined a large, blood covered maggot bores out and leaves a horrible, gangrenous wound. The night of this incident all PCs will suddenly wake up to find them themselves buried just below the surface of the ground, struggling fruitlessly to free themselves from the earth, just as they can feel hundreds of the maggots come from all sides, biting and squirming into them. If they can't make strength checks in time to free themselves and their comrades, they're infested and slowly eaten alive over the course of a day.
Howdy all, first time poster on these boards. I hope my humble contributions are up to par.
264. As the PCs enter the Mournlands, they start to experience short spurts when they're short of breathe, which after a few days feels like choking feelings. This goes on for a week, fatiguing them, as it feels as they can never find enough air to breathe normally. After 7 days a random PC goes into a coughing fit and dislodges a bloody piece of dirt from his throat, that looks to have bits of his own lungs and aesophagus in it. He/She is unharmed but probably should be shaken up. A few days later the whole group experience the same thing, except the coughing causes full body tremors and spasm, racking them with pain. The same random PC from before starts to feel something moving underneath his/her skin on the left arm, and when examined a large, blood covered maggot bores out and leaves a horrible, gangrenous wound. The night of this incident all PCs will suddenly wake up to find them themselves buried just below the surface of the ground, struggling fruitlessly to free themselves from the earth, just as they can feel hundreds of the maggots come from all sides, biting and squirming into them. If they can't make strength checks in time to free themselves and their comrades, they're infested and slowly eaten alive over the course of a day.
That. . . is spectacularly revolting.
;)
The reason becomes clear after encountering the mayor: a Kalashtar Telepath of unsurpassed power anmed Ravqitar. He has been using mind seed in an effort to create as many Kalashtar as possible, starting with every man woman and child of Orinsh, and the PCs may be next...
EDIT:Just as a note of clairifcation, Ravqitar's efforts are entirely futile. Mind Seed can overwrite personalities, but it can't transfer the quori essence of the Kalashtar Soul. Rav is one of the few surviving members of his line, driven to madness by grief and fear for the survival of his race, and, unaware of the futility, sees this as a necessary evil to winning the war.
267) The party comes across a tree that has corpses hanging from all of it's branches! I call it, the Corpse Tree! All corpses can either have their mouths open as if screaming or if you want them to, they can be screaming! (then you can call it the Screaming Corpse Tree) :D
OR if you're feeling crazy, there can be dozens or more trees like that... maybe the screaming corpse tree forest! (if you're really feeling insane)
237) A demented and evil giant is putting on a macabre puppet show using human corpses
238) At the center of a never-ending blizzard, one that glows an eerie shade of purple, a woman of pale and frail beauty dances and sings to Cyran folk song. Those that see her become entranced by the song, and when they sucumb to sleep their body is disintegrated into a fine violet dust that comprises the blizzard.
239) A man tills his fields in the middle of the mournland. When asked why, he states plainly that his children need to be fed. He invites the party in for a meal, and offers to shelter them against the mounrland horrors as best he can for a night. Upon reaching his hut, however, the party finds that the man's family, unlike the man himself is dead. What's more, they've risen as ghosts, haunting their former home and driving their father mad with grief.
240) As with 239, but instead of the man's family rising as ghosts, their corpses instead sit, propped up, at the kitchen table by the man.
Brilliance!
262.)Similar to the one above. The PCs finally make it home after accomplishing the task they went to the Mournland for. They spend some time at home, recounting their events, talking with friends, having a decent meal, when they slowly realize that they aren't really home, they never made it home. Little things are different, like people not remembering them, or their favorite pub closing down for no reason, or people they know to be dead they share a casual conversation with. When the feeling of wrongness hits them, they immediately snap back to reality, not knowing how that happened. It doesn't have to happen while they sleep either, just suddenly, they are standing, in the Mournland, weeping, screaming... "This can't be happening!" Roll a sanity check!
Best one so far!!!!!! :D :D :D
A bard sits on a hill, bringing surreal calm to the the Mournland. Suddenly the place feels like a mundane twilit landscape, The party approaches, and he bids them hello cheerfully. He's preternaturally happy, and speaks thus:
"The name's Grinner. Why am I so happy, you ask?" He speaks gleefully as the party mounts a grand staircase outside of Vermishard palace "I'm one of the lucky half of this city. Vermishard's mists stole my life the minute I breathed of them. The rest died like that"
The party mounts the stairs, and the merry bard points down the lane, revealing a pile of bodies. Inspection reveals every one of them strangled each other to death... men, women, even children clasping each other's throats while locked in a wide-mouthed, teary eyed death grimace.
"What are you fooling with that pile for, sir?" The bard continues, walking thorugh the pile as though it were air. "I was pointing beyond it. Trust me, they got off lucky too. You wanna see people I really feel sorry for? Come right this way..."
Frankly, I've tried and I can't think of a worthy follow-up to this, though I imagine someone else can. I welcome any effort
268) In Metrol, the shattered Jewel of Galifar...
A bard sits on a hill, bringing surreal calm to the the Mournland. Suddenly the place feels like a mundane twilit landscape, The party approaches, and he bids them hello cheerfully. He's preternaturally happy, and speaks thus:
"The name's Grinner. Why am I so happy, you ask?" He speaks gleefully as the party mounts a grand staircase outside of Vermishard palace "I'm one of the lucky half of this city. Vermishard's mists stole my life the minute I breathed of them. The rest died like that"
The party mounts the stairs, and the merry bard points down the lane, revealing a pile of bodies. Inspection reveals every one of them strangled each other to death... men, women, even children clasping each other's throats while locked in a wide-mouthed, teary eyed death grimace.
"What are you fooling with that pile for, sir?" The bard continues, walking thorugh the pile as though it were air. "I was pointing beyond it. Trust me, they got off lucky too. You wanna see people I really feel sorry for? Come right this way..."
Frankly, I've tried and I can't think of a worthy follow-up to this, though I imagine someone else can. I welcome any effort
How about:
Opening a grand set of double doors reveals a chamber splattered with flesh. Like the rest of the bodies in the mournland, none of it has decayed. The room actually seems to be packed with refugees. Their badly mutilated bodies seem to have had the flesh carved away from the bone. Inspection reveals large, ***** boils on some parts of the skin and on the pieces of flesh which are scattered all about the room.
"They all came here to hide after not initially dying. Then the boils appeared. It pained them, prevented sleep, and began driving them mad. Then that poor fool (he gestures towards a smiling near-skeleton) went and cut out one of those boils. He told them it felt better. They carved the flesh from their own bones!"
Looking around the room some more shows little food and a knife, which had been out upon a makeshift shrine. It not only detects magic, but leaves an evil taint which shows up as a moderate aura with Detect Evil.
"But that wasn't the worst. The wounds didn't kill them. They just kept cutting themselves to pieces and not dying. They actually starved to death."
Grinner begins playing again and anybody from Breland recognizes the song as a lullaby about getting food tommorow sung to the beat of a bawdy pub song about getting drunk and womanizing.
Only two people remain upright here. Four lies on the ground, dead, with stabwounds in their hearts. Two small boys, an very old woman and an even more elderly man. In front of these dead people is a fairhaired woman dressed in a bright green dress and a crown of summer flowers. On her right hand a golden weddingband can be seen. She is kneeling in front of a man wearing a matching band of gold, and wielding a bloody sword. Both of their faces show terror and desperation. His sword is only inches away from striking her heart.
"Ah!" Says Grinner and smiles that merry smile. "This is my favourite. The farther.." He points to the standing man. "Knew of the coming doom and hastened to save his family from a fate worse than death. He reasoned that no horse would be able to outrun the fog, so he lined up his parents, his children and his wife and killed them as fast and merciful as he was able. He wasnt quite fast enough though." He walks to the man and waves his hand in front of the stiffened face. "He IS aware that you are here, my friends. And he is also aware of what he has done. So is she." He turns to point at the blonde woman. "But do you know what the best part is?" He looks at you and then slowly smile. "Time DO actually move here.. just very VERY slowly. His sword has only moved a fraction of an inch since the day of mourning. But some day.. in maybe 50 or 100 years.. the sword will reach her, and just imagine how many aeons it will take for it to push through her flesh, to reach her heart and kill her?" He smiles again and shrugs.. "But such is the curse of the mournland. We all have our own little piece of hell here. Now just watch your step, or you might get one of your own." He winks at you and laughs, then takes up the tune again.
A large willow tree shades one bank of the pond and cattails and rushes sway and rattle lightly in a cooling breeze. The occasional croak of a frog can be heard and somewhere, out of site, a splash of a jumping fish can be heard.
Even the gray mists overhead can be mistaken for normal clouds on a slightly overcast day, the sun seems to be actually shining through a little. Like most ponds, the water is slightly greenish with algae and the bottom of the pond cannot be seen.
Nothing will come to harm traveler who choose to camp here. The sense of peace and comfort will continue, so long as no one touches the water of the pond.
If anyone does touch the water, however, the entire pond shatters like a mirror struck by a hammer and collapses into the bowl of the pond. The bottom of the pond is parched and cracked like desert clay and littered enough bones to be the population of an entire village.
Soon after, the willow tree and the cattails and the rushes dry up and turn to dust. The unaffected land quickly succumbs to the effects of the Mourning and the hollow between these hills becomes like all the other; dead and blasted. The sense of peace departs at the shattering of the pond.
While the party is traveling through the mournlands, they come across a man who is building a large house. He notices them and begs them to help him finish the house because he has been working since the day of mourning. Every morning the house returns to its orginal state as if the man had done no work on it. if the party decides to help he is estatic and offers them food and shelter so they will be ready to start the next day. After they finish the next day, he grabs a parchment and runs into the house, telling the party to stay out. Moments later the building explodes and the Enlarged fireball cast from the scroll engulfs the house and the party. After the fireball passes, the party sees the house exactly as they found it the previous day with the corpse of the man man burning in the window.
and out of curosity what is a "fata morgana" from #13
272: The PC's find a ruined keep with no one inside but it is obvious that a battle took place there...
A fata Morgana is a natural illusion of a kind, created by heat and water steam mirroring a city, an oasis, a hill, or maybe a building. A good example from litterature is from the old classic book where they travel around the world in 80 days in a hot air baloon, (sorry, english is not my forst language, so I dont know the titel in english), and see another baloon travelling alongside. That is a Fata Morgana. They see themselves mirrored in the clouds.
273. Any kind of evidence that earlier parties of adventurers has been here and failed to escape alive, such as an abandoned camp with scattered bodies. Make the faces of the dead terrified and the hair white. Or make the bodies mangled beyond recognition, though the terror works better for me ;)
Footprints from a large group of people with horses, leading beyond the next hill and then suddenly disappearing.
An airship flying overhead and then crashing when it gets beyond sight, (they WILL hear it and see the smoke), and when they get there all passengers are dead or just gone.
A great thing could be to make several of these events all with a common theme in the deaths of the people, so that your players will be terrified of meeting the "creature" that does this.. and pretty sure they will too. The dangers of this is that it might create an anticlimax if they never meet the thing. This may be somewhat avoided by a lot of mysterious rolling of the dice when ever they camp, walk, or just look over their shoulder. They would then feel they just narrowly avoided the Thing.
A cult has survived the mourning but is now infused with grotesque powers (someone should think of the powers)
One word phsudo-natrual
Biped zombie babies.
Ok I think thats all....
Biped zombie babies.
gave me this terrifying image:
274: THe party come across a dead woman, who has a giant bulging globlet of flesh coming from her stomach. A patch of this seems to sink inwards, repeatedly, until eventually it is released, appearing as a hole into her bloody flesh. Two podgy fleshy hands rip the hole of skin apart, and an grotesquely obese infant, grown since the womb and surviving by eating his dead mother's flesh, begins to emerge towards the party
But then.. wait.. wasnt that the point?
Huzzah for dead monster babies.
275: The party finds group of another group of adventurers that ask to accompany them because "There's saftey in numbers" the other group will talk about the butey of the land before the mourining and how their famalies died during it. After several days (or hours whichever you perfer) the PCs will find a graveyard and the other group will tell them to wait there as they do something. The other group will go into the graveyard and won't comeback. If the PCs go in to search for them they will find several graves marked with the other groups names.
277. The characters find a desolate and obviously ruined farmhouse. Upon further investigation they find the bodies of the family huddled in the cellar, preserved for eternity.
278. A gruesome scene of a man pierced by an arrow from behind. Preserved inside a clear block of glass. The man's eyes turn to follow the characters aaround. His mouth is open in an eternal cry of pain and small droplets of blood still hang "in air" inside the glass.
279. A Woman crucified to a dead tree. When approached, the woman begs the character to help her down. If they do, she attacks like a ghoul. (the paralyzation effect on touch replaced by intense pain felt when hit by her)
281. A field of helmets. A field of military helmets from all countries covers the ground. Most of the helmets are cracked or pierced, bearing obvious marks of battle. The helmets are placed in neat rows and lines and the field covers quite a lot of ground.
283. While in Metrol the party sees the ashes of a parent huddling over two small children burned into the wall
284. Upon entering the Mournland, the PC's see a corpse just a foot away from the border, hand extended in a futile attempt to escape.
285. If one of the PC's is from Cyre, they enter their home town to find their mother's perfectly preserved corpse sprawled over a letter asking why the PC hasn't written her recently, and expressing worry that something has happened to him.
286. A variant of the previous one, the PC finds the corpse of the boy/girl next door slouched over a letter which tells how they are finally ready to tell the character they love him/her
287. They find corpses of Cyrian, Brelish, and Dargunn warriors all kneeling in a circle, heads bowed in silent prayer.
288. A Carcass Crab has the corpse of someone the PC's know attached to it
281. A field of helmets. A field of military helmets from all countries covers the ground. Most of the helmets are cracked or pierced, bearing obvious marks of battle. The helmets are placed in neat rows and lines and the field covers quite a lot of ground.
A variation on this one:
289. The PCs hear shouting from over a hill. "Sound off! One, two, three..." It sounds like a drill seargant for an army. When they walk over the hill, they see a field covered in army boots. The boots are laid out as if their owners were standing in their ranks, at attention for the drill seargant. The officer's ghostly voice whips across the still field. . .
A variation on this one:
289. The PCs hear shouting from over a hill. "Sound off! One, two, three..." It sounds like a drill seargant for an army. When they walk over the hill, they see a field covered in army boots. The boots are laid out as if their owners were standing in their ranks, at attention for the drill seargant. The officer's ghostly voice whips across the still field. . .
290) As above, both the boots are marchng in place.
293.) Upon staying in the Mournland for two days, the PCs come upon a group containing two Karrnathi Skeletons and Two Karrnathi Zombies. Should the PCs go any closer the undead will not attack instead they will ask for the PCs help, should the PCs help the Undead they will crumble into dust. Should the PCs attack the Karrnathi Undead will let off a Scream before dissapearing, 1d4 rounds later a Soldiers Journal should tell you how they died, upon opening the journal, it will dissapear as well.
294.) On the Darkest Night and when a full moon shines in the sky, Mournland will 'Rewind' it self before the avent known as "The Mourning" this includes ghostly images of those who died. Should the PCs see such avent they all must make a will save (DC 15) or go Mad, if they succeed they will see first hand what happen. Yet, that night they will lose all memory of such avent, intill next time.
295.) 1d4 days after traveling inside The Mournland you'll see a Pair of Halfling children and a Pair of Ghouls Playing and singing ring around the rosies. Should the PCs approch or attack, the group will dissapear yet you can still hear "Ring around the Rosies, Pocket full of Poseys, Ashes to Ashes, we all fall Down" as long they stay in that area. Should they let the song go on the group will fall down, and 1d4 Skeletons will rise from the Middle, then attack the PCs.
285. If one of the PC's is from Cyre, they enter their home town to find their mother's perfectly preserved corpse sprawled over a letter asking why the PC hasn't written her recently, and expressing worry that something has happened to him.
286. A variant of the previous one, the PC finds the corpse of the boy/girl next door slouched over a letter which tells how they are finally ready to tell the character they love him/her
Now these are just plain EVIL :evillaugh
I got this creepy thing from a very creepy book called coraline, and I'm afraid I just didn't do it justice.
You should read the book:
Coraline by Neil Gaiman.
267: The pc's find an abandoned house totally empty. If they spend more than 3 minutes there they start hearing a argument upstairs. When they reach the room upstairs, they find all the pictures and portrates have there faces cut out. on one wall, all of the faces are stuck to it with bloddy pins, surrouned by flies. in the closet there are corpses of the people with there faces removed.
This one is too grusem to use in my campiagn, but I figured some of you could use it :D
34 pages of nasty mournland goodness!
Huzza for PoeticJustice, for having the idea of this thread
296: a pc finds a near perfect replica of a town that they grew up in, however, the childhood friends appear to be puppets, with button eyes and skin sewn together like cloth. they try to get the pc's to play with them as if they were peers. If they stay long enough pair of puppet parents come to bim the pc's "home for dinner now" were they try to keep them in the twisted version of the house, in which the pc's ca never excape - the house twists and morphs into a never ending collection of more hallways. The mother and father puppets appear around each and every hallway trying to get the pc's to come eat with them so they can have there presents after dinner. The present is in the basement, were they force the pcs onto a tabl with unearthy strenght and start s"sewing" them into puppets.
I got this creepy thing from a very creepy book called coraline, and I'm afraid I just didn't do it justice.
You should read the book:
Coraline by Neil Gaiman.
I belive I once saw a movie based on or about this book. I'm not sure though because I was young when I saw it. On the puppet note
298) The players find a sort of swamp giant. It has several hummanoids that are obviously long dead and have parts of their bodies slit and sticks jammed into them. The giant puts on a "puppet show" with his gruesom makeshift puppets. If he is attacked the puppets will come alive and attack the PCs (spellstiched zombies with +10 against turning, they can be of any meduim or smaller species and there are about 11 of them) if they are all killed the giant will begin fleeing or attacking (depending on the Level of the PCs)
SWEET! #300 is next! :D :D :D ...and it better be good! :P
Nice job dude, this one's nasty! :D
298) The players find a sort of swamp giant. It has several hummanoids that are obviously long dead and have parts of their bodies slit and sticks jammed into them. The giant puts on a "puppet show" with his gruesom makeshift puppets. If he is attacked the puppets will come alive and attack the PCs (spellstiched zombies with +10 against turning, they can be of any meduim or smaller species and there are about 11 of them) if they are all killed the giant will begin fleeing or attacking (depending on the Level of the PCs)
300) Driven to find shelter by a supernaturally cold night, the party is drawn toward a small manor with a smoking chimney. Those that explore the basement find a still-burning furnace raging with a sinister green flame. The trapdoor of the furnace lies open, and sparks fly onto the fine Aundairian rug, threaening to set the rug on fire and burn down the house. Approaching the rug, the last thing an unwary exporer sees is a charred skeletal hand poking out of the furnace before the carpet rolls them up and tosses them inside. Even if they get outof the fire, the green flame burns their very soul and cannot be put out by mortal means...
. In addition, I hope nobody minds if I take number 300...
I don't... I was going to, but better you than me... :P
#302. A field of nooses growing from the ground. Something appears to fill the center part of the loop, but otherwise appears to be drawn tight as possible. If the PCs put something through the loop to see what's holding it open the loop tightens, the other nooses spring to life and try to entangle the PCs, and gravity reverses pulling anyone caught in the noose skyward. Otherwise loops are normal rope, and they can be broken/destroyed like any other rope. Once the loops entangling a person or items they're holding/using gravity goes back to normal.
#303. A stack/inverted pyramid of coins disappears out of sight into the sky. All a PC needs to do to get a coin is remove it from the stack. The coins are normal, stay in PCs possession after removal from the stack, and the PCs can take as many as they want. However, DM or dice roll may decide that removing a coin destabilizes the stack and causes it to collapse on PCs. If PCs try to climb the coins DM decides where if anywhere they go.
#304. A freestanding closed/open door is found. PCs may open/close it easily. DM decides affects of changing the doors positions. Perhaps a great unending wind/wal of water comes out of it, the PCs find themselves immediately locked behind the door in some room, the weirdness of the Mournlands drains into the now opened door leaving normal barren land behind, or whatever the DM wishes. If PCs go through the door DM decides what if anything happens.
#305. PCs see a long line of humanoid figures dancing. If they get close they see a Warforged Piper at the head of the line, notice that the dancers are various undead as well as other living adventurers (always near the line's end), and hear music at which point they must make a check to see if they're drawn into the line of dancers. If drawn in they can be knocked out by other PCs but cannot leave of their own will. All others in the line may also be knocked out of it. Undead attack without question. Other living adventures may or may not attack. All non-undead aside from the the Piper must continue to make checks until getting far enough away not to hear to the music. If the Piper is disturbed he may or may not be friendly at DM's discretion. If unfriendly treat him as a high or Epic level Bard and the undead attack party as well. If friendly perhaps he promises dancing and joy for all after death or during life for Warforged since the dancers only die form starvation. Maybe he wants to be guided out of the Mournlands to bring his message to the world at large and if done could grant spells to followers.
#306. A giant sphere of objects (weapons, clothes, food, chairs, etc) is seen traveling at varying speeds. It can make 90 degree turns instantly without losing speed and perform other bizarre manuevers. Objects are cast off the sphere at random and other objects lying unattended fly to it at random. Any objects in the PCs possession that touch it are stuck, and the PC as well if they don't let go/take it off. Living and undead do not stick to the sphere, but it can crush them. If the PCs attempt to talk to it the sphere stops and talks with them, but it says nothing useful. Indeed it seems generally unaware of most everything. However, it is willing to talk for as long as they are, and it will ask for guidance outside of the Mournlands. It mentions that it may be more aware/knowledgable outside of the Mournlands. In any event PCs cannot remove items from the sphere, and it cannot willing relinquish any item though it claims it would if it could. If led outside the Mournlands it begins to make increasingly bizarre claims such as saying it is a god, is come to create a new afterlife, is come to heal the world, it come to end the world, etc. Where it has rolled the land becomes like the Mournlands.
299) After I night of nightmares the PC's wake up with bloodsoaked bedrolls, clothing and whatever else you see is fair, maybe their waterskins are filled with blood.
SWEET! #300 is next! :D :D :D ...and it better be good! :P
Nice job dude, this one's nasty! :D
=D thanks For a disturbing effect you can give the orge a nobles clothing.
Only 690 some to go!
If the character does not leave the mornlands soon he will soon be loved to death.
311) a wagon with undead oxen walks past the party on a path the back of the wagon has a mound of moldy hay with the sounds of a man and a woman talking about what they are going to do when they get to Vathirond.
312) the players notice a field of white snow? In reality it is a field of finger bones crawling toward then like inchworms.
313) the players see moonlight filtering through the brown mists illuminates an orchard of apple trees the apples have screaming faces on them.
314) the players come across a little wall made of skulls surrounding a little house made of bones.
315) a paper floats down from the mists on the paper is scrawled please leave this cursed land for it watches you as you stand on hollowed bones of those once dead, it waits and eats on those it finds, with in its meadow you do stand.
317) House Sivis has just recieved a missive from the city of Metrol, timed and Dated minutes before the Mourning. Its from House Cannith, and in the background of the sending the cries of terror can be heard as the mist rises...
318) The party finds the royal gardens in the middle of Metrol miraculously normal.In them stands a man seemingly unharmed and rigid as a statue. He turns slowly and as he does the last traces of normal life in Cyre vanish as the Blighter lets loose his destructive power.
When the toys spring to life, a milky white substance begins to pour from their eye sockets.
Also, you can throw this little puppy into one of the adventurer's packs when they aren't looking. Have it haunt them long after they leave the Mournlands.
Bards tell tales of an ancient witch who manufactured evil dolls to go out and spread her vile form of evil throughout the lands. This tale is usually dismissed as the beginnings of a child’s horror story, but little do most know that the story does have some truth to it.
Ugly Doll (Minor Artifact): The ugly doll appears to be little more than a crude doll made of buttons, cloth, and straw. However, when held up prominently (usually in the direction of a chosen target or targets) and the proper command word uttered, the doll allows the wielder to create a Cause Fear effect (DC 11) up to five times per day, a Fear effect (DC 16) up to three times per day, a Phantasmal Killer effect (DC 16) once per day, or a Weird effect (DC 21) once per week. If used in this manner, the doll appears to transform into that which the target most fears. The Ugly Doll does not radiate a magical aura of any kind nor does it radiate an evil aura. In addition, this doll is also an intelligent item and shares the statistics of the following ugly doll example:
Betty, the Nightmare Weaver: Ugly Doll; AL CE; Int 19, Wis 10, Cha 19; Speech, telepathy, 120 ft. darkvision, blindsense, and hearing; Ego score 29.
Lesser Powers: Item has deathwatch continually active, darkness 3/day, major image 1/day (DC 14), item has 10 ranks in Bluff (+14 modifier), Diplomacy (+16 modifier), & Intimidate (+16 modifier).
Greater Powers: Detect good or detect law at will, detect thoughts (DC 13) at will, magic circle of protection against good or magic circle of protection against law at will
Special Purpose: Spread fear and panic throughout the minds of all sentient beings.
Dedicated Powers: Animate Objects & Dominate person (DC 17).
Personality: Betty, the Ugly Doll, was created by a powerful necromancer long ago who wished to instill the fear of her great powers into the minds and hearts of all those around her. Unfortunately, Betty turned on her creator and eventually destroyed the necromancer. Betty has since traveled the world by being passed down through family lines, given to children as a hand-me-down, sold and bought, or simply thrown away to be found by another. Betty rarely speaks to anyone and will usually lie dormant for long periods of time until her wielder is completely alone. When such a time comes, Betty usually corners her would be owner and reveals herself in the form of a young girl or other suitable imaginary playmate via her major image spell. Betty (or rather her illusion) acts kindly and works to gain the love and trust of her owner. In this respect, Betty generally targets young children, as they are more easily tricked and are not normally suspected of being an instrument of spreading terror by the populace at large. Such a victim will inevitably become the target of Betty’s dominate person ability. Betty can read and speak Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Infernal, & Undercommon as well as read magic at will.
Strong enchantment, illusion, necromancy, and transmutation; CL 20th; Weight: 1 lb.
Wouldn't it be neat if Betty ended up in the hands of a noble's daughter? Trying to destroy the artifact would certainly upset the young girl...and throw her father into an outrage ("Trying to steal from my little girl!? Take them away!").
321. The characters come across a Cyran prison camp. Originally housing prisoners of war, it is now filled with undead. Some of the undead are stilll wearing the uniforms of the characters unit...
323) Something looking like a cloud of mist approach the party. On closer inspection, the mist is in fact a distortion in reality in which they can see soldiers form Thrane and Aundair in deadly battle. As the mist move, so does the image and combattants shifts. If the players thread to close to the phonomenon, it jumps on them, sucking them into the middle of a battlefield from the Last War. (Idea on a Major Image Living Spell)
..
..
..
*Deep inhale*
okay, I've FINALLY made a contribution to this thread. 'bout time.
327. on the banks of aforementioned lake a petridied fisherman stands, a mirror-sided trout hooked on his frozen line.
328. There's a glassified shark fin poking out of the mirror lake...
331) Mushroom patches with screaming faces patterened into the brown spots on the mushroom caps.
332) Armor that obviously used to belong to a paladin, scribed with holy symbols and celestial writings, curled on the ground in a fetal position, completely empty.
333) The silhouette of an adult racing to shield the silhouette of a child, burned onto a wall.
334) All food the PCs have, from anywhere, screams in agony and begs for mercy in the voice of a terrified child when eaten. Newscreams issue forth with each successive chew, and the pleadings grow ever more desperate as the food item dwindles from consumption.
335) A wall made of little skulls, all of them too small to have been adults and with the wrong skeletal traits to have been a halfling or gnome...
336) A warforged, with its limbs burned down to stumps and its face cloven off, writhing on the ground in the middle of a small crater, completely oblivious to any outside stimuli. Anyone trying to establish telepathic conflight is subjected to a phantasmal killer spell, CL 15
337) A single, perfect flower growing in the middle of a field of total devastation. Looking at the flower reveals a skull pattern on all of its petals and what appear to be the fingerbones of sentient creatures incorporated into its stem.
338) An enormous (Gargantuan-sized) humanoid shaped indentation in the ground with an inch of fresh blood inside. No footprints of any sort are visible around it.
339) The ground suddenly develops footprints and gets churned up as though an army of thousands were marching over it.
340) Water that the PCs brought with them bursts into flame when poured on the ground.
The thought of being trapped inside a burning train, with no way to get off, just driving on on the rails, never stopping, always burning. *Shudders*
341)
The characters comes to a lightningrail trail, (conducter stones and all) and as they make to pass through they hear the warning bell sound. A few seconds later they hear other soundsas the train nears: Screaming can be heard and the roaring of flames. As the characters watch, the burning train drives by with flames trailing from the windows and the screaming, burning forms of the passengers clawing at the windows. The shocked characters stand awhile looking after the train as it rushes on in the predetermined path, with the ringing everyday sound of the warning bell in their ears.
If the characters tries to stop the train or find the end station, they discover that the train simply stops when it reaches the border and starts driving the opposite way in its trails. The doors are stuck, melted shut.
342) removing a book from its place on a shelf causes the others to fly forth and pelt the offender
343) the ghost of Felton, a hideous, giant earthworm with a gnome face haunts the upper tower
344) merely touching a book does 1d6 of fire damage as the flesh instantly loses all moisture and becomes cracked and leathery
345) Looking over the tower balcony on the top floor reveals several corpses lying at the base; suddenly the character feels a shove forward...
346) A pen writes in a book all by its own; no hand guides it. It's writing pleas for help...
347) ALTERNATE: the pen in 346 is describing a grisly murder
348) Dire Maggots infest the earth beneath the tower and attack any who tread near...
#349
Have the players hear a terrible scream coming form a large and mostly intact house. If they go to investigate they hear the scream again followed by the giggle of a small girl. Whean they arrive in the kitchen, they see a 5 year old girl (actually a ghost) with a bloody white dress and on the table is a corpse that has been ripped to pieces and has been blood eagled (had its rib cage split and its lungs wrapped over them) and is of indeterminable gender due to massive grafts and shredding. On the stove is a pot that has red steam floating over it. In the pot are eyes, fingers, and any other bodypart that the girl could fit in, all of which are being boiled on the blood of the corpse on the table. When the girl sees the party have her say "Oooh, more play-mates! Let's play hide and seek." and then disapear. The door's and windows to the place lock and the party hears giggling at random moments and find mutilated corpes all over the house, some appear to have bite marks in them.
351. A massive sword, still bloody and battered from an apparently recent battle lies in the ground next to a corpse of an ogre. The sword cries softly lamenting the deaths it has caused. It calls out the names of it's victims between sobs.
352) The PC's enter a small town that looks to be unaffected by the cataclysm. However the people that live there all have knives protruding from gaping wounds all over thier bodys. They all have a knife sticking out of each eye. They seem to see the party and atempt to greet them cheerfuly. They approach them smiling but as they open their mouths to greet them all that comes out is the shriek of a dying rabbit (or some other animal. But that is one of the most disturbing sounds I can think of.) If the PC enter the city hall they find the mayors office. Inside they find a creature that resembles a drider exept that the upper body is human and it seems to have the affliction as the rest of the town. His arms and his eight legs, however, are long shards of black glass.
353) As the PC's cross a barren strech of land they see an infant in the middle of the flat feild, playing with some toys. It seems to be oblivious to the party. If any of the PC's attempt to touch it or pick it up, it lets loose a screem of pure anguish. Its flesh melts away and its toys burst into flame. It's tiny skeleton sprouts wings and flys away.
Wow. I need to take a shower now.353.) As the PC's enter a swamp, they hear an earthquake-like sound coming from the ground beneath them. As soon as the party looks down, a group of
disgusting, squirming, bloody tentacles (2 ft. diameter) rip out from the ground below! They push, crush, and finally impale the entire party within an elapsed time of 15 seconds...
Suddenly, the entire party awakens, without a big hole through their chests (from the impaling) and notices one of the tentacles lying on the ground next to each PC. Suddenly, 1 PC feels a nausia and vomits out a small, black ball which shapes into...
Level 1-5: Shadow
Level 5-10: 3 ghouls
Level 10-15: 10 owlbear skeletons
Level 20-30: Nightwalker
30+: Your choice (Must be undead, and over 150 HP overall)
354.) There is a mysterious area in a dark, cold part of Mournwood where a small, wooden log lies. If your party enters this area for some reason, they will HAVE to stop by this house for some reason. As the party enters through the door, the PC's see a random humanoid of small or less size, crouched in a corner of the first floor of the house, holding either a crossbow or spear. In front of this humanoid is an icy-white girl about 10 years old. She is wearing a black robe, and is floating in the air, staring at the small creature curled up in the corner, who is paralyzed with fear.
Suddenly, the girl lifts up her hand, pointing it at the poor little thing in the corner of the cabin. Imeediately, the creature squints it's eyes, then opens them. The creatures' eyes are instantly turned black, it's as if the creature's whole eye has become a pupil. The creature jumps up onto a table, either shooting itself in the face, or stabbing itself with a spear (depends which weapon you gave the thing.) A greenish-blue specter rises from the now-dead being and floats, disappearing into the floating ghost girl. She suddenly turns around.
The PC's can see her eyes, red, with a white pupil. She instantly screams and flies toward the party. List of possible actions and results...
Run: Nearest to ghost will be victim
Stab the ghost: The sword will instantly turn back on the owner, stabbing the PC's head, killing it instantly, regardless of HP.
Shoot the ghost: Arrow will stop, turn back, and kill the PC who shot it.
Cast magic on the ghost: Magic will be negated
Attempting negotiation
: Oh, you know...Trying to be a hero, and jumping towards the ghost: The "hero" will fly towards a pillar and is stabbed , instantly dying
Trying to distract the ghost: LOL
: The "distractor" will meet me "hero" shown above Holding up a lantern or torch (lit): The ghost will scream and dissapear
Holding up a lantern of torch (unlit):
The victim of the ghost will have to make a will save (DC 35) or instantly kill itself. The idiot who tried to distract the ghost and the people who died will instantly remove the sword or arrow from their head and be recovered to full health after their bodies are dragged at least 100 ft. away from the house, or after the ghost dissapears. The idiot who killed itself will have temp. Constitution penalty until the PC rests for at least 10 hours. If you checked carefully, where the ghost dissapeared will be a memo stating...
She's dying, our precious Kirsty is dying. She is dying because of a disease in some meat, because of those chefs! Why? Why did it have to be our precious baby!? I hope, in death, this memo will explain to her why she died. So that she may not haunt this place, killing everything! Oh, why? I wish I could stop this from happening, but I can't. Oh, I pray that in death, she will live a peaceful afterlife. And I hope, IF she does haunt this place, someone can bring light to this place and send her to a happy afterlife. Please, someone help us. Help...
I'm going to have nightmares for weeks now!
No. Just..no.
256) 2 copper peices are lying on the ground. If one is removed below it there is a glowing eye and a hand will reach up out of the ground and grab the offenders (the person who took the copper piece) neck and they will hear in a hoarse voice "Give it back! I need that to pay the ferry man!" If they do not give it back they Pc's will be haunted with horribal nightmares and the next time they come to a river or streame there will be a tall, ragged looking humanoide with sunken eyes and cuts on her body. She will attack the PC who took the copper and try to drown them screeching that she is trapped on "this side forever without the ferryman". If they replace the copper with a more valuable peice the PC will be visited in a dream by a buitiful woman who gives them 3 uses of the speak with dead spell free.
Aurual environment:
357) The players enter an area where all sound bleeds away to dead silence, except for the voice of one of the party members; each player hears a different party member.
358) The players enter an area where all sound is time-shifted; they can see peoples' mouths moving and watch their movements, but voices and the sounds of armor clanking, weapons creaking, etc. don't reach them for 30 seconds.
359) As the players walk through a wooded area, they occasionally hear murmured voices from 20-30 feet away, in all directions. Investigating the sounds turns up nothing. Cyran players may hear familiar voices.
360) The players enter an area where words in spoken conversation are occasionally replaced with random words.
361) A gentle rain falls on the players, yet where it meets uncovered metal armor or unsheathed metal weapons, drops hit with the sound of a hammer falling.
Visual effects:
362) The players enter an area where all color washes out of the light. Everything appears in shades of grey.
363) The players enter a misty vale that seems to refract light oddly; everything seems to be 5 feet away from where it actually is. Players bump into trees, trip over rocks, collide with each other, etc.
364) For Cyran players: every once in a while, one of the other players looks like a friend or family member you lost in the Mournland out of the corner of your eye.
365) Looking at the color red causes' players eyes to sting and burn.
Tactile effects:
366) The hilt of your weapon, staff, or bow occasionally seems to squirm or wriggle in your grasp.
367) A gentle breeze blows past the party; every once in a while, it feels like the caress of a hand on the player's cheek.
Could both of you please correct the numbering?
258) the party stumbles upon a circus tent with undead clowns, animals and attractions continuing to perform even after their deaths.
This could possibly be the plot for a whole new adventure. If anybody has read the book "Something wicked this way comes" by Ray Bradbury, they'll know that a travelling circus is the perfect place for horror and death
There could be a full complement of undead witches (hags?), devilish clowns brandishing pointy teeth and fake flowers spraying acid, insane mimes riding those one-wheeled circus bikes and juggling sharp objects, plus ofcourse the master of ceremony himself, twisted and manical.
If the PCs have a bard in their company, he'll recognize the songs sung by the orchestra as perverted versions of childrens rhymes.
*shudders* Just great for your cozy evening get-together with your friends
Right. That's such a good way to get a nice, scary game. "DO ANYTHING BUT HOLD UP A LIT TORCH AND IT'S A TPK!".
No. Just..no.
Ok, you've got a point, but I'll change it into...
The PC's can see her eyes, red, with a white pupil. She instantly screams and flies toward the party. List of possible actions and results...
Run: Nearest to ghost will be victim
Stab the ghost: The sword will instantly turn back on the owner, stabbing the PC's head, killing it instantly, regardless of HP.
Shoot the ghost: Arrow will stop, turn back, and kill the PC who shot it.
Cast magic on the ghost: Ghost dissapears
Attempting negotiation : Oh, you know...
Trying to be a hero, and jumping towards the ghost: The "hero" will fly towards a pillar and is stabbed , instantly dying
Trying to distract the ghost: LOL : The "distractor" will meet me "hero" shown above
Holding up a lantern or torch (lit): The ghost will scream and dissapear
Holding up a lantern of torch (unlit): The ghost will ponder a bit, then dissapear.
Make a will/fort. save (DC 25): Ghost will dissapear
The victim of the ghost will have to make a will save (DC 35) or instantly kill itself. The idiot who tried to distract the ghost and the people who died will instantly remove the sword or arrow from their head and be recovered to full health after their bodies are dragged at least 100 ft. away from the house, or after the ghost dissapears. The idiot who killed itself will have temp. Constitution penalty until the PC rests for at least 10 hours.
Don't worry, those who died resurrect with full HP after the ghost dissapears or the bodies are dragged at least 100. ft way from the house. By the way, the ghost has 50 ft. speed, okay??? NOW, is it better?
Ok, you've got a point, but I'll change it into...
NOW, is it better?
Honestly, I think it was fine before. You just have to give clues as to how to defeat the enemy. If they find the note before they enter the house, and perhaps see someone else try to attack the ghose and see the result, that might be enough for the wary PC. For the less puzzle inclined, a prophecy given to the cleric or paladin with daylight as one of their granted spells: no option.
You could do this days in advance. They could have a week of travel and encounters before this spell becomes useful. But the gods refuse to let them take another until the menace is defeated.
On that note:
368) The cleric prays for spells, but seems to only be granted Inflict spells. Puzzled, and slightly alarmed, the party proceeds to find a band of Silver Flame missionaries. The clerics are undead, but still believe they are living. They turn towards the characters and declare that the PC's are near death, but not to fear, for the clerics will cure them. The spells they cast are indeed Cure spells, but instead of not working, they are changed into Inflict spells. When the PC cleric casts an Inflict spell, it casts as a Cure spell and can heal party members and damage the undead clerics. Experimentation reveals that this zone is less than 100ft across, and though sinister, they can heal here.
369) The hungry party stops to rest and break opens their rations to the horrific smell of spoilage and decay. The food is actually fine, and is perfectly edible; but meat smells rancid, fruit smells rotten, and bread reeks of mold.
370) Along similar lines, the party finds any dried or cooked meat they brought with them has reverted to a raw state. Meat cannot be cooked -- even sitting directly in a fire, any meat stays wet and raw.
For me, the "you cannot heal in the Mournland" rule is a pretty fundamental one to me. I'd be worried about a lazy DM throwing in zones that allow for natural or magical healing to give beleagured players a break, even if they are counterbalanced by risk. (As a reality check: unless entering such a region meant near-certain death, regions in the Mournland that allowed for natural or magical healing would have quickly become the site of encampments and outposts, as people searched for survivors of the Day of Mourning.)
Another thing to remember is that as we enter the campaign setting, Eberron is in a state of pretty serious change. The destruction of Cyre, the end of the war, the freedom of the warforged -- those are all recent events in Eberron's history, about as far back in the past as 9/11 is in the real world. Things in Eberron today are not the same as they were during the Last War, especially where warforged are concerned.
Just my two cents, and YCINMC (Your Campaign Is Not My Campaign)
Jay (=
372) An amalgam of spectral hand and shocking grasp; a bluish-grey ooze, being pulled along by scores of hands with jolts of electricity arcing to the ground, nearby metal objects, etc.
373) Arrowpudding: a spiky ooze, bubbling and hissing, with tiny jets of flame issuing out as it crawls. It can fire flaming arrows and melf's acid arrows at nearby creatures
374) Holdooze: A dark grey ooze that hits creatures it touches with hold monster, knocks them prone, and smothers them.
375) Sphereblobs: Bouncing, rolling balls about 8 feet in diameter start bounding across a plain towards the party. If they hit a creature, they envelop him or her in an otiluke's resilient sphere and won't let go...
376) A small house, seemingly unaffected by the mournlands. When they looks in the windows, all they see is their own reflection. (One-way Mirrors)
There is no door. If a wall is broken in, an orb of nothingness slowly floats towards them.
OR
377) The house has a door. If the PCs enter, they see that they're in a small laboratory. Beakers and test tubes, and several machine parts lie around, as well as a flight of stairs going down. If they go down, they see several operation tables, each holding down a corpse with Warforged Parts grafted onto vital parts of their body. (Head, Stomach, etc.) An old man sits in front of one of the tables, scribbling over paper. If the PCs try to disturb him, he turns around just before they do, esclaiming in a raspy, psycotic voice. "Done. This time it'll work for sure... Just come here and let me test it." The stairs collapse, and the man produces a rusty knife. (Make his ECL 5 levels higher than the Pc's Party Level.)
380) Wind which whispers the names of soldiers who fought and fell for Cyre
381) Huge rocks from black and blood red stone so sharp that everyone just touching it gets 1d6 slashing damage and if a spell is casted at least 30 feet
away from rock 1d4 ghosts are summoned from one rock and attack the Spellcaster
I mean...a place with no healing, two encounters per day is pretty wicked enough, if they're staying there a week, they'll be very dead when they get out WITHOUT having these "do this or die" or "do this and die" ideas.
Otherwise though, this topic is wicked.
90. A gateway that defies the laws of Eberron that allows them you to move from plane to plane by go through it.
384) The party is walking along, and they notice the air around them turn bright red, tinting everything around the crimson. Then the lighting gets funny. Light shimmers and dapples in shafts and patterns similar to being underwater. Then a party member tries to speak. Nobody can hear him, but the bubbles are a dead giveaway for being underwater. Behind him, sinister fins loom a dire shark appears, swimming through a bloody sea that appeared out of nowhere.
386) The party comes to an area where the air is much cooler and they can see their breath but they might not like what they see.Instead of the usual transparent mist they exhale thick greasy black noxious smoke.
387) A small roadside shrine to the Silver Flame, it has an insciption "For those who have fallen a flame still burns" around the base of the shrine there are a few items (sword,shield,helm,holy symbol etc). If a character should take one of the items a silver flame appears about a foot above their head(continual flame spell) and defies any means to get rid of it (a blessing and a curse).
388) The party comes across the frantic journals of a Stavriel d'Phiarlan detailing an urgent message from Phiarlan HQ to get out of Cyre immediately, by any means necessary, dated just before the date of The Mourning. With the journals is a medallion of an unknown metal.
On it's own, this could be a lead in to see what House Phiarlan knew about the cause of the Mourning, if anything. Their heads of House all survived, despite the headquarters' base being in Cyre.
The journals do not need to be in the Mournland for the PCs to get them -- but they were found in the Mournland fairly close to the border.
389) Near the edge of the Mournland, there is a hill marked by a particular apparition: a headless woman holding a flickering, blue-flamed torch. This is visible through the mists on some nights from the safe side of the boundary, when three or more moons are full.
390) Exploration of the surface of the hill produces another manuscript in Stavriel's handwriting, written in the polite dialect of Elven. It details the subterranean society of the inhabitants below the mound, who are seemingly ageless. The elf remarks that time flows differently underneath, and below the rich and decadent city of Tsath is the dark realm of N'kai. He wants to leave, although he has been treated well within the city for nearly forty years?
His last escape attempt was a failure, and the woman of Tsath he tried to escape with was beheaded and killed in the hideous Arena of Tsath. The manuscript details the passage into the mound, as well as explaining that the passage is protected by the dead and partially material. Stavriel mentions that he believes that he has mastered the art of shadow walking, having developed his dragonmark over the years he has spent in confinement.
The manuscript, sealed in a metallic tube, ends saying that he must go.
391) Inside the entrance to the mound is a narrow passageway with carvings on the walls. There are artifacts from Cyran history laid neatly in the passageway: some very old, and some fairly new. Ghostly hands pull and pluck at the characters' clothing and limbs in this passage.
392) At the end of the passageway, silently padding forward on the stumps of severed legs is a naked dead thing with no arms, genitals, lower legs, or head. Its skin is white and scarred with gashes, and its chest is slender and hairless. It stands like a sentry, moving jerkily through the animation of the undead.
A huge and well-developed Greater dragonmark spreads across the scarred chest like a brand.
See [HTML]http://www.venganza.org/[/HTML] for more information on the flying spaghetti monster.
so it's kinda.. annoying.. when this one pops up. But still.. if a DM has kept thrown the most horrifying encounters he can think off at the PC's all night long, they might need a laugh. So hell..
Good going, Mirror Mirror.
Still, I think it would be a shame to fill this thread with funny and cute encounters, same as the TPK encounters. Not that many will find a use for them.
But then that's just my
God only knows why this has endured since April and grown to over 300 contributions. More than that, the horrors posted here have a surprising degree of creativity. I really appreciate the way the community has supported this thread the 4 1/2 months and all the contributions.
Like any other creative endeavor, its hard to keep things fresh. Luckily there always seems to be a new guy with a new nightmare to share.
I would appreciate it if the sarcastic horrors were not posted, as many of the posts on here are kinda personal and when you put stuff on the line like many people have done on this thread, its nice to know you won't be laughed at.
Please, everyone, continue to post. All contributions are welcome. This may be the first 1001 thread I've ever seen to actually make it all the way there...
This should be somewhere in the centre of the Mournlands. The PCs come across a large building, somewhat weather worn but otherwise intact. Surrounding the building are walls, towers and other military defenses. Those with military training should easily identify it as a minor base though the defenses might be more than they would expect. within the building they find a cathedral like room. Those with religious knowledge will recognize verious symbols and decorations aroudn the room are connected to Syrania and Shavarath. The Cs will continually hear a very soft whispering but wont be able to make out what is being said. In the centre is a strange metal/stone obelisk looking very out of place. Artificers and wizards will be able to work out this is an eldritch machine but they wont be sure what its use is. Closer insection will reveal that it is hollow and through a hole in the side they will see and unearthly beautiful if somewhat androgynous humanoid strapped to a crucifix. The humanoid has what appears to be the bloody remains of wings on his/her back and feathers surround him/her on the floor. This close they can clearly hear that the whispers are numerous voices repeating "I'm sorry.. Please Forgive me.. I didn't know..." over and over again. There is no way for the PCs to contact this being as it seems unconscious.
For added weirdness, the child could be completely aware of what's going on. It's cooing sounding almost like speech.
lolHmmm
367: The PC's find a dog that seems quite well for something in the mournlands, it has dirty matted hair and flees but otherwise it's fairly well feed if not a little hungry and is freindly twards the PC's it also has peculiar fur markings of a totally white head, black body, white legs, and black spots around its eyes and along it's spine. After sometime the PC's may find a cave with similar dogs and about 50 humanoide skeletons but the dog continues to follow them. If any of the PC's is knocked down to 0 hp or lower the dog grabs them with its's jaw and drag's them off (Treat as a war dog with 35 strenght) trying to drag them back to the cave for food...
399) the party comes across a group of looters stripping bodies the only problem is their dead too.
400) the mists thicken into humanoid shapes coalesce into twisted parodies of people they know all crying out dark secrets about the after life.
...But he hears the constant sussurus of soft and silent whispers that follow him into dreaming.
403) The characters discover footprints in the sand/dust/dirt. The footprints are moving and covering over themselves almost as if there was an invisible dancer caught perpetually up in the dance. (Alternatively, there can be more than one dancer.)
The dance is a Cyran tago, which most Cyrans would know; it was the national folk dance of Cyre. The only way to free the ghost of the dancer is to enter the dance as the dancer's partner and run through the entire series of steps in proper time. (Make a successful Perform: Dance check, DC 15 or 20)
404) A failed Perform: Dance check means that the PC's steps overlapped the dancer and gets locked into the dancer's routine, and it will take another PC to free the first one.
Another Mournland explorer, who is too exhausted to talk, can be encountered locked in the routine: if so, the dance needs to be performed correctly twice; first to free the explorer and the second to free the ghost.
406) The charcters come across some very wet ground. While walking, of the feels somehting hit the underside of his chin, and feels a bit of a dribble there. Another feels something hit the underside of his hand, and within a minutes the PCs find themselves in the middle of a torential rainstorm, except that the water rains upwards forming massive dark clouds in the clear sky.
A clear sky would be an amazing thing to behold within mournland by itself.
A giants hand turned to stone, being used as a ants nest, or something similar?
A ordinary pool, full of ordinary fish and wildlife, but floating 2 foot of the ground, with no discernable way of keeping it their!
When the elf awakes horrified by this odd occurance the markings on his/her skin are very evident in his/her waking form. they are a deep maroon tatoo across his/her whole body, and then a 13th moon joins the others in the sky over him/her and the horrific realization hits him/her about the same time a dark whispe rbegins in his/her head. He/she realizes that they have manifested the mark of death and the dark whispers in their head is the calling of the blood of vol to continue what she had started.
Upon realizing this the elf woudl scream and awaken his fellow party members. They rush to them to see what si the matter and find the elf curled into a fetl position rambling about the mark of death. but the elf has no markings and even he/she can no longer see it, or hear the eery voice. but every night they remain in the mournland the dream of the thirteenth moon and the horrid red tatoo returns and the elf awakes in the same manner. Just another horror of th mounrland? or some evil truth hidden in the elf's past? Dm's Choice
Love this thread and have survived with out nightmares myself
KAMIKAZE!
409)As the party travels through the Mournlands along a deserted road, they see a bedraggled farmer staggering towards them. The man looks up and sees the characters and starts to run towards them loudly shouting “Hey people Yayyy”. As he gets close to them they can see that he is unarmed and despite his ragged clothes unharmed. He moves close to a female or least armored pc and weeping with relief hugs them and says in a hollow whispery voice “I need a new moooommmmy”. With a sickening splitting sound a wet bloody little fetus climbs out of the farmers mouth and attempts to climb across and down into the characters throat (use a stirges stats sans flying).
That's messed up!
The PC follows for a short while, catching glimpses of almost luminescent white from under the cloak as the mist slowly deepens. Coming to a halt in the shadow of an immense tree, the figure turns. A slender human woman stands before him, naked, her face hidden by the cowl drawn tight. So pale is she that she almost seems to glow, the tincture of night brightened by her seeming incandescence.
The mist comes from all around, flowing, ebbing, brimming and cascading over all, and yet.... And yet... In passing her it seems possessed of new life. The mist coils in new forms and contours, shapes new silhouettes and semblances as though even the frosty night air were beckoning you closer.
The barest of perfumes wafts through the night air, it's rich redolence a whisper, a promise, and an invitation all in one. The PC is drawn closer and the pale, flawless arms reach out, drawing the PC into a deep embrace.
There the dream ends.
The PC slowly stirs, dragged through ragged clouds of unconciousness as light winds silver traceries across his eyelids with one last sentence softly breathed through his ears: "Wake... It is morning."
Opening his eyes to the chill air he finds himself in the midst of his and his comrades' camp. Everything lies in its place, the fire long doused and his fellows bedded down for the night.
It would be a beautiful morning had he not woken cradling a human skeleton in his arms, its soft curves so pale as to almost glow.
411. As the PC's walk along, anyone they're not looking directly at looks rotted and decayed. So as you're going, you keep catching glimspes of befouled corpses and zombies walking beside you.
412. As a bard starts playing (at any time), dozens of hands slide up from the ground (this isn't a violent action. More like you just slowly come aware of it) and start snapping in tune to the music.
413. Also for when the bard starts playing or singing have a voice sing the accompaniment, or a choir sing the whole thing along with him.
414. Anyone who travels with a flute-playing bard notices something strange that they haven't seen yet. When he puts his pipe to his lips and evokes its magic, the airhole at the end takes on the appearance of a singing face.
(Looks something like this: Dire Destiny )
415. Ooooor the pipe writhes and twists like a snake in his hands.
:evillaugh 417- You might want to speak to each player alone for this
As the PCs make there way through the mournland their tempers begin to grow thin. An ally may appear to be undead for an instant out of the corner of ones eye but a second glance sows nothing. They begin to notice their friends whispering conspiratorily and glancing at him/her. Sow the seeds of paranoia, maybe get them to think that Dopplegangers/Undead imposters/etc. 418-One of the Pc's sees a loved one being tortured horribly and calling to the PC to help them. The pc's comrades hear and see nothing. The pc may have to make a Will save not to rush to their loved one's aid (or may do so willingly) In his/her haste the pc won't see the ravine full of jagged rocks, pit of serpents, etc.
419-Or to really freak them out have the bait not be an illusion but the real deal. Someone kidnapped unbeknowst to them and kept invisible to ones comrades. Just think, getting home just to realize that you left them behind.
wow...I'm evil
420) In a relatively rocky area, the Party comes across a deep pool under a cliff, which bears a carving of a young woman, her face calm, yet sad. As the party watches, tears form from her eyes and drop into the pool, keeping it refreshed. The water is perfectly drinkable, although anyone partaking is overcome with a feeling of melancholy and loss. Anyone who adds his or her own tears to the pool gains a +1 moral bonus on attack rolls and saving throws against fear effects for an hour.
421) As they're walking along, the party spots a dot in the sky, in the distance. As they near it, they realise it's an airship, hanging in the air about half a mile above the ground. No matter how strong the wind, it does not move. If the party can gain access to the ship (through flight or teleportation, for example), they find it completely deserted, objects dropped haphazardly, and half eaten meals in the galley. A DC 20 search check reveals a Fine Khyber Dragonshard wherever an object is out of place. If they make their way into the hold where the Dragonshard binding the Fire Elemental should be, they either find it cracked (as though "Freedom" Had been cast upon it), or they don't find it at all.
422) The party comes across a plain of dust, in reality extremely fine ash. As they travel through it, they find that the dust under their feet hardens to stone when their foot nears the ground. Attempting to dig with anything other than a pick is useless, as the grounds is too hard to break through normally. An optional encounter is a group of Swarm-shifting undead, formed from the ash... either Wights, or skeletons.
Edited for grammar
424) The party sees the wall of dead grey mist miles before they actually enter the Mournland. Looking ahead, they see the wall twist into a screaming face, perhaps a loved one, yelling at the party to turn back. A whispered plea arrives on a stale smelling breeze a few moments later, a crying sobbing beg that the party turn back or lose their lives among the horrors.
“Thanks for the drink.”
426) As the group comes across the scene of a tremendous battle, one of the players (shield carrier) comes across his own shield. It is the spitting image of the shield he presently carries (down to the present signs of damage / use – nicks in the paint, loose rivets, etc…) only much older (the “new” shield shown signs of repairs not yet made on the original).
Flipping the shield over, the PC sees his own arm still caught in the wrap (including any scars / tattoos / dragonmarks). It has been burnt off at the elbow, and clenched in the dead fist is an unfinished letter in the PC’s own handwriting (although somewhat shakier then normal).
“Dearest Nathakra,
We have done all that we can, and my heart breaks to tell you that we have failed, my darling. We all followed the instruction you gave, but they didn’t work. Now all of the oil is consumed, and the hoards are closing in. It’s almost as through we walked right into a tra”
At that point, the letter stops.
427) After the party returns from the Mournlands, and has had time to heal and forget, they are involved with a minor bureaucrat in some little office. Everything is normal, until the Officials assistant introduces herself.
“Hello, my name is Nathakra.”
Later the eyes are found in a low depression outside of town, they are laid out in a strange pattern that look similar to a dragonmark... if this isn't just plain pants wettingly creepy enough, the eyes are all pointed one way (pick a character) and will follow that character should they move within sight of the 'symbol.'
I want to add one thing to one of my favorites from page 1:
428 (Adapted from #31)
In a medium sized town or small city, everywhere in town has the word "Why?" scrawled on it. The walls, tables, doors, carts outside, even the fountain in the square. Nothing else appears wrong with the town, just everyone is missing. Investigation reveals no signs of struggle.
As the characters eventually make their way out of town, and the buildings fade into the distance behind them, a soft whisper in draconic speaks to one of the PCs at random, saying:
"Because they told me to."
Show
This is actually part of one of my three explanations for the Mournland. I use a different one in each of my Eberron campaigns, so players can play in multiple games and not have the story ruined for them by knowing the secrets ahead of time. In this case, Cyre was destroyed by the Chamber using draconic magic because House Cannith was trying to use Giant/Dragon magic in an Eldritch Machine. The voice belongs to the soul of one of the dragons who participated in the ritual. All of the dragons who participated were slain by the magic involved, something that even the Chamber didn't expect. Somehow the ritual went horribly wrong, but the Chamber ordered that it be completed regardless. In the end, a number of the now dead dragons who participated haunt the nation of Cyre as formless, powerless souls.
430: If the party becomes lost in the mist, have them find a small pleasant village. Everything here is fine, the people are happy and healthy, the fields are green, the sky is blue. The only odd thing is the wall of mist around the town. Now the thing is people freak out if you wear any read, it attracts those from the mist. Anything red is destroyed and the people in the town try and make the players stay at almost any cost in fear of them angering those in the woods. (Loose the village inspiration)
431: On a last war battlefield, the bodies of the dead lie everywhere. A small white cloaked girl walks up to the body of a soldier. After she finishes the body rises up, a look of terror on its face.
"They were tainted, all of them, this place... it got inside them. It wants to spread you see? Eventually everywhere will be the Mournland. It's already started... everyone that comes and goes, every piece of salvage brought out carries with it the taint... and now... it's in you! Don't you see? The mist is supose to keep it IN! BUT WE TAKE IT OUT!" At this point the lone survivor flips out and attacks the party. While undeniably mad, it's up to the DM to decide if this disturbed adventurer has any merit to his words.
The lead one calls out to the Cleric (or Paladin, or other good-aligned character) and asks "Hey brother, can ya spare a copper? I got kids to feed..."
434) The people isn't undead but Mongrelmen. Humans, elves and other races mutated by the blast of magic that razed the rest of Cyre. Somehow these people was spared the brunt of the blast and "merely" mutated. Now they hesitate to venture out into the surrounding lands fearing - and probably rightly so - the reaction to the "mutants" and "twisted beings".
They don't deserve any less. 435) Randomly, in any location possible (within the Mournlands ;)), the PCs come across a number of statues made out of living, pulsating flesh, growing right out of the ground, walls, even the ceiling. And no, they're not any living, pulsating, flesh statues (is there even any such thing?
). The statues are blocky and rough, as if some mad sculptor began working, got bored, and decided to cast Clay to Flesh on it for good measure. The only exception is that the faces are in exacting, calculating, perfect detail. Still and unmoving, although the rest of the statue might roil and squirm, the faces won't even be jogged an inch. And each of those faces/figures are easily recognizable as a significant person in the PC's quest and lives.However, the real rub of all this is that its a vital clue in the PC's journey, no matter how gruesome one it might be. The PCs will likely be protrayed in an unflattering way, displaying some hidden vice that they must overcome at a later date. They might recognize one particular statue: actually, it's a single statue with multiple faces they can all recognize, a sign that a certain someone with multiple identities is stalking them. Wither it is a changling or a Thunnai/Philiarn operative is up to the DM. A person they know to have saintly qualities might have a towering shapless figure they can't determine what is directly connected from the back. Quori possession? Touched by Xoriat? Maybe. The PC's patron could have the most pleasent expression on his face, but is holding something you can't determine behind him because it's too rough. Is it a sign that they'll be betrayed? Is the patron hiding his true motives because he is being stalked by the Emerald Claw? Who knows?
And the final touch will be a completely unfinished statue in the midst of the other statues that's clay, in contrast to the other fleshy things, representing the PC's ultimate (insert DM cackling here. :evillaugh) archnemisis. Might a vaugely lizardlike statue represent a dragon? A Draconlich? A Demon? The Devourer of Dreams? Vol who just got supercharged? Or maybe a huminoid statue can be anything from a dragon in huminoid form to Orlassk the Daelkyr Lord of Stone. Sora Kell herself? Arren d'Cannith with some mad plot to turn the entire world into the Mournlands for his Warforged children?
Be creative! Be dastardly! Be utterly mysticaly-counfounding and cruel!
But above all, be disturbing.
436) As the players cross the endless plains of the mournland they see either a person standing with his arms behind his back and a look of pride on his face. Should they aproach he will laugh, then rapidly switch to crying and begin to thank them. He will hold out a dragon shard. However unlike normal this shard is without any internal color or power. When a player takes the shard from his hand a blast of white light, identical to a sunburst spell knocks all the players down. However no one can be killed from this effect. The player must then make a will save. If he fails the shard pulls free from his hands and becomes Living Imprisonment. If it imprisons any player the shard turns back into the person who the players originally saw. However the true power is worse if he succeeds on the save. All the players pass out and awake 3 days later. When the player with the shard awakens he hears a voice in the shard telling him about how to undo the mourning if he will only ask. Once he asks the shard fills his mind with the exact knowledge of how the mourning came to be and how it can be emulated. This knowledge drives him entirely insane. He immediatly begins to claw out his own eyes and tear at his own flesh. Once he has done enough damage to kill himself his body is turned into a 12 HD allip. The shard turns back into the person holding it and assumes the same position as before the players encounter it.
436.5) The group woke to Arnaud's frantic, high-pitched squeal. It would have annoyed Tonal, had it not surprised him so; after all, it was the first time he had heard the Cyran laugh in four years.
"Yes! Tell me how to undo this! I beg of you!" But a moment later Arnaud's face turned to a vision of terror. Choked with tears, red eyes, and bloody snot streaming from his face he screamed. "It wasn't her! She couldn't have! SHE...SHE...I DON'T BELIEVE SHE..."
And with that he raked his face with dirt-caked nails. Tonal rose to stop him, but Arnaud had the strength of madness and kicked him solidly to the throat, sending him, choking, to the ground. Coughing, Tonal rose a few seconds later to find his friend with a ruined face clutching his chest and dying of a heart attack. Arnaud breathed deep, and on his dying breath Tonal could swear he heard the name "Mishann". After all was through, Tonal could hear a babbling and saw a black shroud hovring in front of him. Mindless drivel about betrayal, curses, and riddles filled the air as it lurched forward...
Tonal's enchanted sword made short work of the allip, and thankfully after being destroyed it fell, sucked by some unknown force, into Arnaud's body. He sat up coughing, face still marred with scratches, but remembered nothing of the event, nor of what the Dragonshard whispered that drove him to madness. For that Tonal could only shudder a little and be grateful.
I don't believe in killing off PCs (90% of the time, at least), and I think this scene would be good without the lethality, so I fiddled with it a little. Hope you don't mind, Rogue_Newb.
And I would very much appreciate it that everyone who posts on this thread and/or comments to add at least a single idea to the list, even if its a one liner. It would make the thread look more credible, and who knows, the rest of us can expand on it for you...
Speaking of which... :D
437) A grove of trees ahead in the mists has masses of hair instead of leaves growing on the branches. If investigated, severed heads appear to be growing hidden within the stands of hair, very dead, and dripping blood/smelling rotten/host to maggots/etc.
438) As the party travels across the mournlands they come to a fallow field with nothing but an old scare-crow on a cross as it’s last inhabitant. A farmer’s house stands at the edge of the field. The house is empty with nothing but a few pieces of furniture strewn about the place. That party moves on and make camp some place else that night. In the morning the scarecrow is found in the middle of their camp…and in the distance the party can hear the sounds of something big and mean coming their way. If they manage to defeat whatever creature the DM sent against them, the next day the same thing happens. If they destroy the scarecrow afterwards, the next day it’s back hole and sound, somehow attracting a monster towards the party. Only a Dispel Magic and Remove Curse cast at the same time, while it gets burned, will stop the scarecrow from appearing each day. And as it burns it screams out gibberish and madness.
439) The party comes upon an abandoned farmer’s house. Inside it’s empty except for a few pieces of furniture strewn about. Out the windows they can see a barren field with nothing but a lone scarecrow guarding it. The party decides to make camp in the abandoned farmer’s home for the night. Anyone on guard duty that night that looks out at the field will think he saw the scarecrow a little closer to the house then where it was before. But as he stares at the scarecrow nothing happens. Not every time, but every so often when the guard looks out he could swear that the scarecrow is closer than it was before, until it seems to be near the edge of the field. Finally the last time before he’s duty is up he looks and the scarecrow is gone…but suddenly there is a knock on the door.
436.5) The group woke to Arnaud's frantic, high-pitched squeal. It would have annoyed Tonal, had it not surprised him so; after all, it was the first time he had heard the Cyran laugh in four years.
"Yes! Tell me how to undo this! I beg of you!" But a moment later Arnaud's face turned to a vision of terror. Choked with tears, red eyes, and bloody snot streaming from his face he screamed. "It wasn't her! She couldn't have! SHE...SHE...I DON'T BELIEVE SHE..."
And with that he raked his face with dirt-caked nails. Tonal rose to stop him, but Arnaud had the strength of madness and kicked him solidly to the throat, sending him, choking, to the ground. Coughing, Tonal rose a few seconds later to find his friend with a ruined face clutching his chest and dying of a heart attack. Arnaud breathed deep, and on his dying breath Tonal could swear he heard the name "Mishann". After all was through, Tonal could hear a babbling and saw a black shroud hovring in front of him. Mindless drivel about betrayal, curses, and riddles filled the air as it lurched forward...
Tonal's enchanted sword made short work of the allip, and thankfully after being destroyed it fell, sucked by some unknown force, into Arnaud's body. He sat up coughing, face still marred with scratches, but remembered nothing of the event, nor of what the Dragonshard whispered that drove him to madness. For that Tonal could only shudder a little and be grateful.
QUOTE]
I must say, this does OWN the original idea. And i agree, just...killing off players is never good, or even fun for anyone involved. Should the player be auto-killed for roleplaying well? Yeah. that makes sense and you will absolutely not have a game filled with "i don't care" characters, mostly out of FEAR OF DEATH!
Of course this is accompanied by an invisible monster attack, (after ominous sneaking noises from somewhere nearby in plain sight or the sound of a frenzied charge), or possibly a Cute Little Girl (tm o' doom), who could actually be virtually anything.
Any way, can I suggest people might also want to check out the "creepy events thread" in d20 horror. There's a lot of modern stuff there, but still some suitable weirdness for the mournlands.
"Play with me."
Averan's screams lasted longer than any of his companions. For 3 days, his screams sounded throughout the surrounding area.
A recurring dream the PCs have when they actually manage to sleep. Their waking hours begin to be much worse than the night... when they start hearing giggling coming from behind them....
443: The ground splits open in an bone chilling gasp revealing blackened teath and a hole with a radias of about 40 feet. A feted breeze passes in and out of this gap as it rises out of the ground knoking everyone around it away (Treat like a bull rush from a monster with 80 strenght) that only knocks the creature 10 feet away and dosn't move with the creature, It rises high into the air revealing a long snakelike body with blackened bones. (If the PC's attack it it has an AC of 47 and HD50 it's 80 feet long, It does not attack back) and flies off fading into nothingness.
445) The characters feel different. It feels like tendrils are grappling at them all over. Especially at their heads. After a few minutes, they realize they are feeling, acutely, their own hair touching their skin. Releaved that this poses no threat, they continue. And then all their hair falls off and gathers up into a (Insert name of hairy creature that has an electrical attack. It was in the 1st Ed Field Folio.), which wanders off, seemingly oblivious to the characters. Then the Dwarf begins to cry...
446) A Dire black Unicorn is busily eating a human corpse. It is muttering to itself "...eat them, gain their power..." It will attack any Humans in the party, but excuses itself to any Elves or Orcs for the rudeness of having to eat their friend. (Remember that Orcs in Eberron are Druids...) Oh yeah, it breathes it's hit dice as a fiery breath weapon. Mercilessly ripped off from Legends from Darkwood. Very cool. Go out and buy it.
447) A spiral staircase, silvery in color, extends upwards from the ground. It alse extends downwards, but is made of a hard, cold, unintifiable black rock. No end can be seen in either direction. The beautiful sounds of a flute eminates from the upwards spirals. (Ripped off a song AND a book. Let's see if I can do better...)
If the pc's follow the directions they arrive at a tree. If they knock on the tree a door opens, revealing a ladder straight down. at the bottom of the ladder is a room with a door on the other end and a gnomish skull, with the top of the skull cut off, on a pedistal. The second a person enters the room, the ladder flies up and vanishes, and the skull starts speaking.
"A forest without any trees, a lake without any water, a city without any buildings. What am I?"
The answer to the riddle is a map, of course. But if you look closely you notice that the skull doesn't ask that. The skull asks what am i. which is a talking skull. If they answer wrong, they get 3d6 of skull exploding goodness, with a reflex of dc 16 for half.
Next room.
Same room as before except a lever is infront of the skull, with the skull saying,
Push me.
If they pull the lever, they get 5d6 of skull shards. if the PUSH the lever, they get 3d6 of skull dust in the eye. both with a reflex dc of 16 for half. Then what are they supposed to do you ask? Push the skull.
final roomish thing.
There is a fork in the hallway. when they get to the end, they find the same room as before minus the lever. The Skull says "WRONG SIDE (insert evil guy laugh here)"
so what do you do?
if you go back to the other fork, you see and hear the exact same thing. if you go back AGAIN, you see and here the exact same thing, IF YOU GO BACK AGAIN... i think you can see where this is going.
what do you do? go around the pedastal and press the button on the RIGHT side.
if the pcs are still alive and they havent killed you yet, there is a gnome sitting on the floor, surrounded by a pile of brains. all of the brains are connected to his skull. He is quite insane and will complement the pc's on getting this far, then he'll start asking about how the pcs can live with only one brain.
If they ask where the xxxx of doom is, he points under a pile of brains. as soon as they touch the pile to get to the xxxxxx of doom, he yells and collapses and starts writhing in agony and beg them not to touch them.
and im stuck. i cant think of anything else.
to all of these. I was reading them at 11 in the morning and was still creeped out by them. I am about to begin an Eberon campaign with my friends and will be doing a large Mournland adventure using a large combination of these.This is basically what I am thinking of:
It starts out with the players heading along the old tracks of the lightning rail. They are supposed to make there way into the mournland and then head south towards the field of ruins. They are going to retrieve a family symbol for a widow of one of the soldiers. After a day of travel they begin hearing sounds and a light coming from right ahead of them. If they head towards it then they reach a group of young girls in bloodstained gowns dancing around a person hanging from a tree. They are all singing in very eery voices, "Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posies. Ashes, Ashes we all fall down." At this point I will make a Will check for all of the players secretly and mark the one who scored the lowest. If they interact with the girls nothing happens and the girls get back to the circle as quickly as the can.
That night the player who scored the lowest wakes up hearing the sound or hears it during his watch. He can make a willpower check (DC 25) to not follow the sound. If he does follow the sound then he sees the same girls dancing around another corpse. Upon furthur inspection the chartacer finds that the corpse is his own. At this point they make a Fort Check (DC 20) or vomit and pass out. If they fail the check then they wake up either in their bed or in the chair where they were keeping watch although they still smell of vomit.
As they continue on the player with this vision will see every once in a while, out of the corner of his eye a pale horse and a rider dressed all in black. However, before the can do anything to find out about this person the fog will swallow the figure up.....
I plan on doing more for this and will add the new parts as they come to me, but for now I have to make the adventures I'll be running for the month until then.
This thread is a godsgiven gift from Poetic Justice. I just ran SotLW in my campaign and I freaked the H*** out of my players.
WARNING! SPOILERS!!
I started out with having them make several Will and Fort saves as they entered the mist at the border.. just to freak them out. They all had high rolls, so everyone feels safe for now. :evillaugh
The landscape was bleak, burned, dead, and the earth crunched and cracked beneath their feet.
Then I dropped the rain of blood on them, and that almost made them turn around.
Walking along, drenched in still-warm humanoid blood, they encountered a wheat field, half harvested, with six burned, (think hiroshima), corpses, all old men and women. The wheat and the wheat stumps all were rust-red.
Not far from there, still on the little dirt road betwen the field, was a woman turned to stone, crouched protectingly over two small children, (also stone), the womans eyes cried blood.
Here the nosy sorcerer made a mistake, and tried to cast some divination magics on the "statue". He saw the mist of the mourning approach rapidly, saw himself try to protect "his" two children, and then everything turned black, and he had an epilectic seisure and passed out, (1d4 dam).
They camped out in an old battlefield and had an encounter with some skeletonwolves. And just when they thought they would get a chance at rest, the ghost of a woman started singing an old cyran funeral chant. She kept that up the rest of the night. The morale really wasnt that high at the end of the night.
It turned worse when all their water tasted foul, the food rotten and the wine like vinegar.
The next morning they passed through a burned out hamlet. Here they found the school with the children still at the tables, (again, hiroshima), screams from inside the building, (they prudently avoided the sounds), and the bard Grinner from this thread. (The palace became the townhall).
They got directions from him and went on toward a frozen forest with a corpsetree at the middle, ruled by a freezing apparition with a scythe. Having burned her away, (and not getting bad effects from the magic - 60% risk), they found the corpsemound with the carcasscrab. They then went on to the mine, killed the vulture and went inside. Where they found a quite insane halfelf trying to scratch out his eyes. He was ranting and whining about the Mournland trying to spread, and that the mist was to contain it. And that everyone who went inside was contaminated.. AND EVRYTHING CONTAMINATED BROUGHT OUTSIDE WAS SPREADING THE MOURNLAND!
He then went bersek and tried to kill the players. They subdued the obviously insane man, and he then tried to kill himself, (when one of the players pointed out to the halfelf aldo would be contaminated). Further into the mine they found the pathetic corpse of a gnome mage and a shifter ranger. All killed by something horribly dismembering thing.
They never found out what did it, but they are still afraid they will meet it
It should be said, that I peppered the whole session with some nasty and fitting photos and some art I found on the net, plus some really moody and dark musik, so way down low, they almost couldn't hear it. Unless they all were silent at the same time, (that happened a lot), then the spookyness just filled the room.
After the session they all told me it was the way spookiest game they had ever had.
You have no idea how peoud that makes me
Just wanted let everyone know that I'm in the process of indexing all the Horrors into a Directory of sorts. If all goes to plan you'll be able to look up specific types of horrors, such as 'haunted towns' or 'mutants'. A fickle internet connection has been plaguing me, but I already have the first page done.
88 down, 350 or so to go!
450) An old man sits in a library deep in old Cyre. The library's floor is covered in ink. The PCs find his emaciated form staring at a book. Peering over his shoulder, they see the book is blank, and the man weeps
"Where have all the stories gone! Why has Art forsaken the land of her children? Where has she gone?"
The old man mistakes a female party member for the incarnation of Art, and demands that she stay and help him rewrite the books, and reacts violently if she leaves.
(452) The PCs end up right near the edge of the Mournland (very close to their much anticipated exit) They take refuge in an abandoned church (surprised no ones come up with this yet), the stain glass windows are suspiciously in great condition while the rest of the interior and exterior is burnt and otherwise damaged. Inside they hear whispered prayers to some god. (Dms choice) At the far end behind the altar there is a set of badly burnt wooden stairs, the bottom half has broekn down so that the lowest part to grab onto it about 12 feet up. Should they stand directly under the steps and look up into the darkened hallway, they see a dark silhouette run into the side wall revealing a moonlit window. Screams of a young boy echo from the hall above the stairs " HELP ME! PLEASE!, he's gone mad!!" Should thy PCs investigate (by going up the stairs) there is only one door, which says "Preists Quarters" When the door is opened they see a grisly old man in bloody robes, there are several dismembered bodies of young boys wearing altar boy clothes. The old preist simply stares at the PCs, he attacks in a blind rage should the PCs make any sudden movements.
Should the brave PCs decide to spend the night downstairs in the main hall, they fall asleep easily to the sound of three young boys whispering their thanks, they will wake up fully healed and well rested. (remove any fatigue). this is ofcourse providing they have killed the old priest.
p.s. does any one think that the waking up fully healed and rested in 452 seem a bit too much?
p.s. does any one think that the waking up fully healed and rested in 452 seem a bit too much?
It's the Mournlands. The PCs have probably lost someone already. It'd be a refresshing break.
453) Near the end of the day when the party is getting ready to find a place to pitch camp they see the form of a man stumbling over the hill. Could it be another zombie, or mournspawned horror? This time no, and a successful spot check will reveal that info... if not this encounter could be comedically short (for the DM anyway)/ No this man (elf, dwarf, up to you really) is the last survivor of another expidition into the mournland. And this one *gasp* isn't insane! He's just hurt, and really really exhausted. When he sees the PCs he'll call out for help. "Stop! Please stop, wait, help, please, I'm alive, for the love of the Host please wait!" he'll call.
If the party is kind enough to stop for him, this ragged man looks severely dehydrated, is wounded (several stab wounds to his arms, sides and one leg) and is carrying little other than the armor on his back (that seems to have taken a lot of punishment) and the bloodied blade in his hand. His armor style seems to mark him of Aundarian stock. He's tired, very tired. "My name is Tarn please you have to help me. I came here with some other adventurers... one of my, comrades she... she had family here she... wanted to say goodbye. But everything went to **** and now they're dead they're all dead! Please, I'm tired, I've been on my own for two days now, I'm lost, I can't tell which way I'm going in this thrice damned land. Please!" Any sense motive check will let you know the man is telling the truth. If queried about how his party died he'll suggest they talk later, after they break camp... it's getting dark and they should find someplace less visible.
Once camp is set he'll start talking, sitting, and (if the party is brave enough to lite a fire in the Mournland) staring into the fire he'll start recounting what happened. "There were five of us when we set out, we were making for the hamlet of Inas to the South, we never made it there." Have him recount the deaths of his party members, borrowing liberally from these fine suggestions on the boards. "The little ones the children, you have to watch for them, this blasted land twisted everything good and pure... the children are the worst. Arden was the first, we heard the sounds of children playing... he wanted to investigate... they wanted to play all right... they went for the eyes..."
Continue, feel free to foreshadow any encounters you plan on running with your party, throw in a lot of terrible events and narrow escapes for Tarn. "Ilsa was hurt bad... she wouldn't have lasted long even if Takk hadn't lost it started screaming about how the land was getting inside us, tainting us. He killed her and turned on me... I-I... I did what I had to." When it finally comes time for his story to come to a close have him finish with "I don't know why you're here, but if your smart you'll beat a straight path out of here... if not. I don't think I'll make it much farther on my own, if you'll have me I'll follow you to whatever insanity brought you here."
When this is all done, if you have casters in your group Tarn will ask if they have any spells that will make him sleep. As tired as he is he doesn't think he'll be able to sleep. Whether or not they cast a sleep spell on him eventually he falls into a fitful sleep.
The next morning when the party wakes up and tries to wake him they'll find he's dead. Not that he was dead when they found him, nor did anything come to kill him. A DC 15 heal check will reveal he died of seemingly natural causes, a check of 25 or more will show signs that his heart just stopped sometime durring the night... his body had been running on so much adreniline his poor heart just couldn't take it anymore.
It's the Mournlands. The PCs have probably lost someone already. It'd be a refresshing break.
Or, you can notify them three weeks later that the healing has been provided by the bent astral construct that the priest had been keeping at bay. In return for the service provided by the PCs, the "thing" healed them the only way it knew how, but the consumption and annihilation of the children’s souls that it had harvested. Frightfully inefficient, it took 1 or 2 children per hp healed. The PC now detect positive to Detect Evil (DM's option as to for how long).
For all gifts there is a price.
454. Strange glowing lights drift across the sky above the PCs, seemingly in an aimless fashion and similar to fireflies. However, if a break in the clouds appears, the lights can be seen as ghostly airships, glowing with an unholy light, their crews forced to work for eternity.
455. Same as #454, except the lights are actually strange luminescent creatures similar to jellyfish, squids or octopi. If a large enough fire or other light source is built, some will actually descend, making strange sounds akin to a whale's song.
456. The terrain around the PCs follows them, such as a hill that follows behind like a stray dog.
457) The PCs make camp at then end of another tiresome, horrific day, on the outskirts of a great battlefield. The evening progresses smoothly, and the PCs bed down, probably establishing a watchm. At exactly midnight, any PC still awake suddenly are overcome by unbearable fatuige (let them make saves to stay awake if they want, but it won't do any good), and join their sleeping comrades in the realm of dreams. Each sleeping PC expiriences a horribly realistic nightmare inwhich they find themselves back in their homes, gripping a letter in trembling hands which informs them....
(Insert PC's Name Here),
You have been drafted by order of the Korth/Wroat/Flamekeep Movement into service in the reserve forces of Karrnath/Breland/Thrane, and are to report to the nearest recruiting station at sunrise one week hence. From their, you and your unit will move to the Cyran front, where futher orders await you.
- (Insert name of functionary/head of Office of War here).
The PCs awake in cold swet.... in their own beds at home, a letter held crumpled in a trembling fist. They have been shunted backwards in time to the last few years of the War, and are to depart for Cyre in one weeks time... with the dreadful knowledge that they are not only marching to battle, but marching twords the Day of Mourning.
Or, you can notify them three weeks later that the healing has been provided by the bent astral construct that the priest had been keeping at bay. In return for the service provided by the PCs, the "thing" healed them the only way it knew how, but the consumption and annihilation of the children’s souls that it had harvested. Frightfully inefficient, it took 1 or 2 children per hp healed. The PC now detect positive to Detect Evil (DM's option as to for how long).
For all gifts there is a price.
While that is a very good idea on how to explain it with a rather creepy feel to it. (not tooo mentiion regret), i was kinda going for a more positive vibe to it. Sorta like the childrens finally freed spirits thanking them for destoying their capter. Yours however certainly has a more Mournlandish feel to it, especially wiht a bloodied and insane protector. (priest)
He notices you and opens with a hello. If enquired as to who he is and what he's doing he tells you that he was the Cyran military commander. Every soldier in the army was his to order into battle for the glory of Cyre, every last soldier was his responsibility. Completely and utterly his responsibility. He had promised them victory and promised that each of them would make it home safe. But with the Day of Mourning came their utter obliteration and defeat. He died like all the others that day, but consumed by guilt he seeks to honor their memory. Now he carves a marionette for each and every soldier who died on that day.
As he finishes his story, he also finishes his carving. Standing up, he takes the figure in one hand and a coil of rope in the other. Lifting them towards the tree, the nearest marionettes reach down from their hanging position and take up the new figure. Passing him up or over from puppet to puppet along the branches, they tie a noose and fit it around his neck and hang him from the tree as well. Then all as one they bow their wooden heads in a moment of silence and remembrance for the fallen son of Cyre.
Perhaps another puppet themed one.....
459. As the PCs walk past a house they see in the fenced yard alongside it a figure industriously working. As they approach closer they see that it is a large wooden puppet stitching together bloody human remains and attatching cord to its arms, head, and feet...
And I haven't seen very many about Warforged in a while.
460. An immense field stretches some quarter of a mile (at least!) filled with crosses and headstones. On each one rests the head of a Warforged, its eyes still glowing.
461. The PCs come across a great battlefield. The bodies of Warforged, undead, human, etc, lie everywhere amidst broken swords and shields. Spears litter the ground and arrows protrude from corpses like vile porcupines. After a while of walking through (/past/around) the field they come across a strange sight. A Warforged cleric (you can tell by the shining armor plate figuring the holy symbol of _____) is slowly working his way across the field and laying each body out ceremoniously and delivering the last rites. Each body is laid out with its feet towards the west, so that the rising sun will shine upon its face. Arrows are plucked out, eyes are closed and hands crossed on the chest. As he delivers a benediction each corpse's face moves into a smile, never to move from that position again. (You can see the cleric's work stretching far behind him, all the bodies in neat rows and columns, each with its arms across its chest and a faint smile on its face.)
462. A marching batallion of Warforged armored in human skins (I imagine that's how they might view a human in full-plate).
(There is no real threat to the party here; the zombie cow is content to feed on its kind. But it should unnerve them.)
465: What looks like a weeping willow tree, with several thick main branches, a single one and a group of four. In that configuration, it looks almost like a hand. The illusion is aided by the various furrows dug in the dirt in front of it, as if the hand were clutching at the ground. And the pile of bones and occasional warforged parts around its base.
(And yes, it will attack if someone gets within range.)
466: Tethered to a tree, they find an abandoned airship. The fire ring surrounding it appears stable, if low-powered. There are no provisions on board.
(If they think "Hey, free airship!", they're in for a surprise. The fire elemental bound to the ring is quite angry after being left alone for so long, and will behave unpredictably.)
467: A man, apparently alive and well, wanders the mist aimlessly. He appears thin and emaciated, but politely refuses food or water. Why? If they ask him, he tells them, "Because earth elementals don't need to eat or drink."
(He's human, just delusionally mad. If they could cure him, he might be of help to them in some way because while he was deluded, he was able to wander quite a bit of the land without injury, for some reason.)
(Or what if in the process of curing him, they inflict upon an earth elemental in human form the delusion that he's human? GMs, have fun with this one!)
The man isn't insane... exactly, however he has come to some rather strange conclusions. Having been blind most of his life he really has no idea of the scope of whats happened. In all honesty the man believes that he is dead and he is in Dolurrh, and through cosmic injustice he's still blind on the other side. The strange fact of the matter is for some reason the Mourning just did not kill him. He's survived this long largely through luck and a really high listen check (which he's used to avoid the worse this land has brought to his ruined town) the real reason though is he wears a ring of sustinance, a gift from his father, and just never thought to take it off after the Mourning.
If asked about the Mourning or 'the day he died' he'll say he was sitting on his porched when he saw a flash of white... which is odd because he's been blind for 30 years when an illness took his sight... after that all he could find was rubble and bodies.
It will take a lot for the party to convince the man that he's not dead (he really isn't) and that if he comes with them they can take him someplace safe. (All diplomacy checks made with this man are at a -10) as for why the lack of healing hasn't killed him... well he's been very lucky. If they can't convince him he'll just assume they were crazed spirits of Dolurrh and go back to living and hiding amongst the ruins of his town.
During the investigation of the building, a hulking horror lumbers closer, and the stone begins to glow, vibrate, and emit a high-pitched chime. It lumbers into the distance, and the clamor from the stone fades.
Could the stone have a connection to the horrors that allows it to detect them? If so, how was that bond forged, and why?
Oh, and if anyone reading is wouldn't mind clicking on the link in my sig and voting for Thondred's Trusty Wrench, I'd appreciate it greatly.
But this is the Mournland, so assume that nobody's getting clean in them now. There are five below, sorted approximately in shock value order.
470: A bath house. It looks appropriately run-down and disheveled. There are one or two dead bodies in there. In other words, Mournland typical. If they study it more carefully, though, they'll see no blood or stains on the floor, but the ceiling is discolored with them. That's because within that bathhouse, all liquids (including spilled blood and water from the taps) fall upwards instead of down. The effect ends outside the bathhouse and otherwise does them no harm, but should unnerve them for a little while.
471: A bath house, clean and inviting. There's a warm bath already drawn for them. And oh look! It's getting up out of the tub and advancing on them threateningly! It's a water elemental, and it's not happy to be trapped in the house.
472: A bath house. It's perfectly clean, well-lit, has fresh towels, and is warm and inviting. In one of the empty tubs, the top half of a corpse relaxes—everything below the chestline which would be touching the water is missing. The tub is perfectly clean, plain, white enamel. And if they watch long enough, unseen hands turn on the controls to fill the tub with hot water.
(And that's because it's a strong acid that periodically empties out and refills. The top half of corpse should be sufficient warning that something is wrong. So should the vapors filling the room which, if breathed, would probably cause a good bit of damage.)
473: Another bath house, again quite clean and inviting. Maybe too inviting: the adventurers' favorite drinks and some light foods are served up on a tray near the entrance, the waters are clean and scented, and more significantly, healing works there. If they bathe, it will be quite relaxing but their clothing will be taken away to somewhere.
(You've heard of invisible stalkers? This place is inhabited by invisible masseuses. They'll see to the adventurers' every need in order to have someone to take care of. But they'll also do everything in their power to make sure that the adventurers never leave.)
474: Another bath house, which appears to have been used repeatedly for slaughter. Dead adventurers and their equipment practically fill the tubs and their blood appears to have splashed irregularly onto the walls. Their equipment can be searched for valuables (and may contain some nifty stuff). Since kills don't rot, the tubs are filled with fresh liquidy blood as well as body parts and treasure, so scrolls and books will likely be useless.
Of more interest is a sigil carved into a large tile on one wall, surrounded by a mosaic that could be considered interesting and attractive under other circumstances.
Occasionally, as they regard the tubs filled with bloody treasure and body parts, there's an almost inaudible >klak<. When they look to the source, they may notice that some tiles have changed color or reversed.
When they're sufficiently off their guard, a large section of the tile, including that sigil tile, will come off the wall and assemble itself into a monster with slivered tiles for sharp teeth.
(I call this creation the Folding Beast, a golem-like construct of tiles. Stats should depend greatly on the level of the party fighting it. The sigil tile, even if in two or three pieces, would probably fetch obscene amounts of gold from most dragonmarked houses and even a few "strangers" of unknown origin. It could be the start of their next adventure, in fact.)
775: An entire forest has taken on the phusdo-natural templet, including the trees and ground (Getting back to the basics)
776: An old man is resting against a tree seeming to be arguing with himself. He is arguing to an unheard voice about wheter or not to leave (He is arguing the point to leave) the mournland. If the pc's come close he jumps up and the adventurers see another humaniod fused to his back.
477: A slightly run-down household. Upon entering, the first thing adventurers will notice is that there are several dead bodies frozen into strange poses around the room. After a few moments, a chair will walk in and sit down on a corpse bent into an approximate chair-shape. It will be mildly startled to see the humanoid adventuring party, and say "Oh, my, more of you things again. Things just haven't been right around here since the Mourning. Horace? We've got more 'guests.'"
Yes, the furniture is animate and sits on stiffly posed people. They're perfectly content to talk and entertain the 'guests,' provided that they don't mind sitting on dead bodies. And eating various paraffin resins (furniture polish, of course).
This is one of those precious few encounters in the Mournland that can actually be played for a laugh. After a number of rough bouts with stuff that's happened there, they might actually welcome a softball like this.
Of course, if you think they've had it easy, the furniture might decide to add some new pieces for their collection. Grandmama could probably use a new bed, for example.
The prison was once used to house prisoners of war, from obviously the last war. Occasionally you can ghosts of teh gaurds in their Cyran unifroms and others of the prisoners themselves in their cells, all malnourished and beaten. These shades are harmless. As the PCs delve deeper the eventually find who ever they were looking for (this is used by mme, you can come up with what ever reason you want for the PCs to enter the prison), he is lying on the ground in the middle of a circular room, the walls are covered in blood smeared manacles. Should they enter the room, the manacle will shoot out from the walls, to grapple both hands and feet, special ones will come around the moth to prevent the casting of spells. a ghost of a blood covered executioner carrying a huge lochaber axe (oddly sparkly clean), will then appear in the middle of the room, (wether the manacles have succeded grappling or not, the manacles get 4 rounds to do this and then stop should they fail, all succeded manacles will continue to grapple.) The spirit o the man being chased by the pcs will also appear, the lochaber axe will then proceed to chop off his head and the spirit will disappear, the executioner will then attack once and only once the Pcs, (one attack each), wether he hits or misses, whe will then re apear inftron of the next PC, untill all ahve bin attack, the ones that are hitt, are not harmed except for 2d4wisdom damage. Once the executioner disapears the PCs will wake up outside the prison walls, all with a branding mark on their forearms, ( the mark is one that is branded on Cyran prisoners)
480) A small portion of cyre (approximately 1 square foot) has been transformed into the surface of the sun; It glows for miles and the place surrounding it is abominably hot. The real horror come weeks after exposure, as the poor soul finds their skin rot and nose fall off due to overexposure.
476) A hole in the side of a hill is eminating steam at an extremly high pressure, so high that it deals 1d4 con, 1d4 wis, and 1d6 heat damage when someone touches it from their skin being steamed.
I'm planning a game where the party could take one of three routes across the mournland (By airship, the abandoned lightning rail or riding veloceraptors.) So I'll have to grab a couple. Are there any good ones for flying encounters?
Anyway, one of my own:
481: An awful collection of enemies and friends.
The party comes across an abandoned inn/ballroom/drinking hall in a settlement they're passing by.
If they enter, they see everyone they've ever known, drinking, laughing and dancing by the light of the lanterns.
Everyone looks up and raises their glasses in a cheer as they enter.
For the rest of the night, everyone is the party's friend. Dead fathers embrace their sons, friends living happily in Breland to this day are there and want to know how you're doing. Even the evil wizard the party slew last year is there, clapping them on the back and offering them encouragement in their present endeavour.
As the night wears on, it becomes increasingly clear that these people are not real. All the people radiate conjuration and illusion magic, and every person only knows what the party knows. The beggar who thanks the party cleric for his kindness has no name. The rogue's sister knows she took a secret to the grave, but doesn't know what it was. The Lord of Blades will dance the caravan with you, but can't tell you why he stole a shipment of Khyber shards in Thrane this past Olarune.
The illusions will admit their nature if pressed, but will ask the party not to hold it against them.
The night continues pleasantly, but at it's height it stops suddenly.
One of the party says something completely and utterly harmless and everyone stops talking. The band stops, and you could hear a pin drop. The bartender sets down a glass and says one simple thing.
"Leave."
If the party asks why or refuses, the barman becomes more insistant, with calls of agreement from the assembled.
If the party refuses again, then everyone rushes at them. They don't have the powers or skills of the real people, but they are as strong as normal soldiers (Treat as a warrior 2 with no racial features aside from size and speed) but they could easily overwhelm the party.
EDIT:
Some suggestions, this should be generally played for the "But what's the catch?" element. Players should be looking over their shoulders, trying to work out what the hell is going on and how it will kill them. When they finally relax, that's when you drop the "Leave" thing.
Also, if you want a rationalisation, the meeting hall is a Ghallandra establishment, set up for people to see what they want to see, sort of like the services some changelings offer in Sharn. (See: S:CoT for info.)
#482. In a certain area of the Mournlands, all the party's equipment becomes intelligent. Treat them all as having a True Neutral alignment, who's purpose is to be used as commanded.
Stats Are:
Int:Owner's x2
Wis:Owner's x2
Cha:Owner's x2
Ego:0
And, should the PCs have any magical items, they will find that they are unmagical in this area. (Any Divination spell of 5th level or higher reveals that the magic is simply being suppressed.)
Great time for a fight with a carcass crab.
#483. The PCs meet themselves. As children (around the ages of 8-12). This is not an illusion, nor is it magic, meerly a bend in time. Their nature and alignment are the same as that of the PC when the PC was a child, and they are fascinated to meet their future selves, not to mention estatic about the fact that they someday will be a powerful wizard, or a mighty warrior. Of course, this means that anything done to the PC's child form happens to their future self. Should the PCs depart alive, they will see their child forms playing "Adventurers", and the experience will remain in their stock of childhood memories. (Meeting your future self is not something easily forgotten.)
This is a nice break from the oppressing evil, and is also a way to get the PCs to drop their guard, right before dropping something much more dangerous on them.
It represents the trama from your skin boiling away from searing water droplets (It steams you in the same way you would steam cook food) but if you are that stupid I think you do desrve some loss of sanity there lol
So why don't you lose Wis from getting your flesh burned off from a burning hands spell?
Or, even better example, why don't you lose wis from seeing your absolutely worst nightmare, but rather just hit points?
Variant: Instead of the steam being normal steam it's spirits of the dead streaming from the ground. The wisdom damage is because every spirit transfers the memories of its final moments to the person who touched it.
I really don't want to get into a rule war over it.
483. While wandering through the ruins of a Cyran town, suddenly the buildings start growing larger and larger, dwarfing the party. No, wait! The party has shrunk! Living Mass Reduce Person spell, now with Added Reducing Power! And oh noes! It looks like the only thing that survived the Mourning are the cats--now hideously deformed and corpsified! Just hope the mice are long dead in their mouse holes...
484. It is either dark and gloomy, or dark, rainy, and gloomy in the Mournland. But today a Living Reverse Gravity spell has decided to come out and play with the party! How high can they fly? Let's find out!
485. A Living Slow spell? Sounds like a minor inconvenience. Except when those zombies shuffle their way over the hill after being struck by the Living Haste spell.
486. Speaking of opposing Living Spells... The PCs are traversing a dangerous and rocky ledge overlooking a steep cliff somewhere in the Mournland. All of a sudden a fierce battle between a Living Darkness spell and a Living Light spell envelops them. Yay! Strobe lighting effects!
487. It's a blustery day in the Mournland. Not too worried, the PCs hunker down and press on towards their goal, almost there after days of traversing the dangerous and frightening Cyre countryside. But uh-oh! A Living Gaseous Form envelops the party! Hope everyone makes their save! Otherwise who knows where the mournful wind of Cyre will take them?
488. Who knew there were druids in Cyre? Well, a Living Tree Shape spell happens by and turns the party into trees! What a hoot!
489. An ordinary day in the Mournland? Inter-party banter is sure to get interesting when they come across a Living Zone of Truth spell!
490. A Living Earthquake might shake up your party a bit. Let's just hope they're not underground!
486. Speaking of opposing Living Spells... The PCs are traversing a dangerous and rocky ledge overlooking a steep cliff somewhere in the Mournland. All of a sudden a fierce battle between a Living Darkness spell and a Living Light spell envelops them. Yay! Strobe lighting effects!
Lol strobe lights are fun! I like those. On a similar note:
491: A living animate dead spell is wandering the land... (Don't comment on the rule mechanics of this becaus it's the mournlands anything can happen lol and I havn't read very much on living spells)
I wonder if there are Undead spells in the mournlands?
493) The PC's equipment feels wrong. Their clothes feel alternatively too tight and too loose, the grips of their swords doesn't fit the shapes of their hands and it feels as if they are wearing the equipment of someone else.
494) Every time a spell is cast, make a mark on a piece of paper. Let your players see you do this. It doesn't mean anything though. Or does it?
495) The players happen upon a deserted and desolate town, in the middle of which is a very large tree with many, many twisted branches. On each branch is a noose. The tree is surrounded by many filmy, indistinct figures who are chanting in some awful tongue. As the players watch, more figures appear. These ones shades of townspeople emerging from ruined buildings. Through each figure the background is visible and none of them acknowledge the PCs' existence . Entranced, they slowly walk towards the tree, and the PC's can hear them muttering that they are worthless, that they couldn't save them, that no one could ever love them. They continue muttering their littany of self-loathing until they reach the tree. At which point they reach up, grab a noose, and hang themselves. Their trance is broken once the noose is placed around their neck, and they struggle and gasp for air until they die. When they die, they become solid. Whenever a townsperson dies, the chanting figures become more and more distinct and solid. If a PC physically interacts with a townsperson(say, by touching or attacking them,) their trance is broken and they mull about in confusion for 1d4 rounds before succumbing again. They are far too many townspeople for the PCs to stop in this manner. If a PC physically interact with a chanter, they cease chanting for 1d4 rounds, dazed. If all chanters are neutralized, then the entire town breathes a sigh of relief and vanishes, leaving only the buildings, the tree, and the empty robes of the chanters. However, if the PCs allow the entire to hang themselves, the chanters begin to writhe, being reshaped into beings of horror (gaining the half-demon template). They then rise, their now solid eyes finally noticing the PCs, and they begin to advance...
The process will go on every 10 minutes, and unless they are any beings to kill in the area, the man will go back inside. After returning inside, there will be muffled screams and shouts of laughter. If the PC's attempt to resist and fight the monster, and win, it will disappear. After disappearing, 3 villagers will run out of the house, each with scars. They will seek help from the PC's.
However, if the PC's lose, each PC faces the default action of being reduced to 1/10 hp upon awakening. Even if the man reduced the PC's to under -10 or -1 to -10 hp, the PC's will awaken with only 1/10 of their hp. (minimum 1.)
Technically, the PC's automaticlly fall asleep upon looking directly at the house. These are the stats for the man...
???
level 16 rogue
Medium Undead (Extraplanar)
Hit Dice: 16d12 (104)
Initiative: +9 (+5 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative)
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
Armor Class: 19 (+5 Dex, +4 natural), touch 15, flat-footed 14
Base Attack: +12
Attack: Claw +18 melee (1d10 +3)
Full Attack: Claw +18/+3/+8 melee (1d10 +3)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Fear Aura, Impale, Sneak Attack +8d6
Special Qualities: Blindsight, Damage reduction 10/+3, darkvision 60ft., regeneration 2, undead traits, vulnerability to fire, dream haunt, Improved Evasion, Uncanny Dodge (+2 vs. traps), Defensive Role, Crippling Strike
Saves: Fort +5, Ref +15, Will +7
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 20, Con -, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 8
Skills: Climb +22, Escape Artist +24, Hide +24, Intimidate +18, Jump +22, Listen +21, Move Silently +24, Search +21, Spot +22
Feats: Improved Critical(Claw), Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse(Claw),Weapon Focus(Claw), Power Attack
________________________________________
Environment: Any land
Organization: Solitary
Challenge Rating: 9
Treasure: None
Alignment: Always chaotic evil
Advancement: By Character Class
Combat
Fear Aura(Ex): ??? is evil desire incarnate and exudes and aura to match. All creatures of less than 5 HD in a 60-foot radius that look at him must succeed a Will save or be affected as though by fear as cast by a sorcerer of ???'s level.
Impale(Ex): Whenever ??? enters a grapple and gains a hold, he likes to ram his claw through the victim to horrific results. ??? deals double claw attack damage ever round that he maintains a grapple.
Regeneration (Ex): ??? suffers lethal damage from fire. If he loses a limb or bodypart, ??? can instantly reattach it if he holds it to the stump.
Vulnerable to Fire (Ex): ??? was originally burned to death by a group of parents angry that he molested their children. Now, in death, he still fears the flame. ??? takes double damage from fire and automatically fails any save against fire attacks, abilities, etc.
Dream Haunt(Su): ??? does not naturally exist in the “real” world, only in the dream world. However, he may enter the dreams of others and attack them there. Any damage the victim sustains while dreaming affects them in the real world. If someone dies fighting ??? in a dream, they are reduced to 1/10 hp here.
In case you noticed, I got this from a thread on the monster's forum. DarkNecromancer may know who this monster is. I also changed all the areas that stated his name, so that it can be more scary. :D
498) As one enters the dead grey mist that forms a barrier between the Mournland and the rest of Eberron, they hear the voice of their most trusted friend begging them to turn back
499) On particularly cold nights, packs of invisible wolves hunt the unwary. All that can be seen of them is steam form their breath rolling off an invisible snout and horrible, unblinking eyes that glow yellow, like twin stars.
500) A woman sits, emaciated and naked, against a tree, holding a small pouch of sand. The area surrounding her is a living weird spell.
If the party defeats the living spell and takes the pouch, the woman dies quickly, her metabolism destroyed by 4 years of inactivity.
If they take the pouch of sand, which radiates overwhelming illusion magic, they can conjure either a major image or a phantasmal killer by throwing a bit of sand either at the area which will host the image or into the face of the victim, respectively (range increment 10 ft; range touch). There is a price for harnassing the power of dreams, though, and every time the pouch is used the user must make a DC 20 Cha check or permently lose one point of Wisdom. Restoration cannot restore this loss, but Miracle or Wish can.
Inspired by The Sandman, by Neil Gaiman. Read it.
502)Tornados of blood cycle across the battered landscape in eccentric patterns.
503)Three small children, dressed in makeshift army gear, are all stabbing a corpse of a Cyran soldier. If any PC tries to stop them, or otherwise interfere with what they're doing, they start trying to stab the PCs.
504)Lightning bolts flash in the distance, and a failed Will save (DC 20) causes the PC in question to see visions of loved ones being struck by the lightning.
505)A mural of maddening, random artwork covers what is left of a wall of a fort.
506)Mouths with sharp fangs cover the ground and snap at the legs of anyone who gets too close.
507)A piece of paper blows by. If a PC grabs it, they see that it has a crude stick figure drawn on it in red "ink." Written below in sloppy handwriting is, "Your blood shall refill my pen next."
In case you noticed, I got this from a thread on the monster's forum. DarkNecromancer may know who this monster is. I also changed all the areas that stated his name, so that it can be more scary. :D
Sounds somewhat like Freddy Kreuger to me.
(Sorry if i seem like i push down on every idea that doesn't suit me, but people underestimate the whole "no healing" thing of the mournlands heavily, and a level 16, challenge rating 9 rogue that leaves the PCs with 10% of their original HP means quick instant kill.)
???
level 16 rogue
Medium Undead (Extraplanar)
Hit Dice: 16d12 (104)
Initiative: +9 (+5 Dex, +4 Improved Initiative)
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares)
Armor Class: 19 (+5 Dex, +4 natural), touch 15, flat-footed 14
Base Attack: +12
Attack: Claw +18 melee (1d10 +3)
Full Attack: Claw +18/+3/+8 melee (1d10 +3)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Fear Aura, Impale, Sneak Attack +8d6
Special Qualities: Blindsight, Damage reduction 10/+3, darkvision 60ft., regeneration 2, undead traits, vulnerability to fire, dream haunt, Improved Evasion, Uncanny Dodge (+2 vs. traps), Defensive Role, Crippling Strike
Saves: Fort +5, Ref +15, Will +7
Abilities: Str 16, Dex 20, Con -, Int 12, Wis 14, Cha 8
Skills: Climb +22, Escape Artist +24, Hide +24, Intimidate +18, Jump +22, Listen +21, Move Silently +24, Search +21, Spot +22
Feats: Improved Critical(Claw), Improved Initiative, Weapon Finesse(Claw),Weapon Focus(Claw), Power Attack
________________________________________
Environment: Any land
Organization: Solitary
Challenge Rating: 9
Treasure: None
Alignment: Always chaotic evil
Advancement: By Character Class
Combat
Fear Aura(Ex): ??? is evil desire incarnate and exudes and aura to match. All creatures of less than 5 HD in a 60-foot radius that look at him must succeed a Will save or be affected as though by fear as cast by a sorcerer of ???'s level.
Impale(Ex): Whenever ??? enters a grapple and gains a hold, he likes to ram his claw through the victim to horrific results. ??? deals double claw attack damage ever round that he maintains a grapple.
Regeneration (Ex): ??? suffers lethal damage from fire. If he loses a limb or bodypart, ??? can instantly reattach it if he holds it to the stump.
Vulnerable to Fire (Ex): ??? was originally burned to death by a group of parents angry that he molested their children. Now, in death, he still fears the flame. ??? takes double damage from fire and automatically fails any save against fire attacks, abilities, etc.
Dream Haunt(Su): ??? does not naturally exist in the “real” world, only in the dream world. However, he may enter the dreams of others and attack them there. Any damage the victim sustains while dreaming affects them in the real world. If someone dies fighting ??? in a dream, they are reduced to 1/10 hp here.
(Bolded for emphasis)
So what was he on when he made that monster?
509. As the PC's are walking through a body strewn battlefield, one of them trips and is smeared with gore. Much to his surprise, he's actually healed 15 points (or so) of damage (Imagine all your PC's smearing themselves with the blood and guts of the fallen. I don't know about you, but that's a little bit sickening. Would the party paladin join in or consider that an utterly evil and despicable act?)
There are 3 women chained naked to a silver gate that leads to a path into the woods. As the party approaches the mist rolls out to obscure the sight of these women – but the rattle of the chains are still audible. If the party continues the figures become more visible, but the women retreat just out of clear sight. A low growling is coming from behind them, and gets stronger as the party draws near.
Eventually, when the gate is visible it appears to be short silver gate that extends 20 feet to each side of two huge black wood totem poles. Ghastly, figures showing anguish and suffering scroll up the poles. The chains are leading straight back down a mist-obscured path (the tension in the chains is noticeable).
The three women are actually 3 werecreatures – 1 werewolf (CE), 1 werebear (LG), 1 weretiger (N). If approached they attempt to grapple anyone (the party member whose alignment is closest to their own) they can reach and proceed to whisper in the ear of the player. The women are healed and sustained by the magic of the gate, so they will be very hard to kill. They will only speak to the 1st person they successfully grapple.
The werewolf will tell the player that there is great power in the center of the great circles within the woods, and promises the player power or anything (including lifelong service) if they continue and slay the seer in the center (freeing her). She will not release the player until an oath is taken. Any attempt to free themselves and the wolf will attempt to bite the player and transfer her disease. She will then promise to provide a cure if the player does what she wishes.
The weretiger will tell the player that there are thirteen circles and thirteen gates in the woods (including the one they are chained to). She wants to be freed and tells the player that she knows of a powerful weapon inside the circles that can sunder the enchanted chains. If the player agrees she tells them the weapon is within the fifth circle and is an Ax that serves as the hips and spine of the guardian there.
The werebear whispers to the players that they should leave and never return. She will relent and tell them that under the center of the final ring is a chamber that holds survives of the mourning. If the player agrees to free those people and lead them to safety, she will tell them that there might be an eldritch machine in that chamber that can reverse the mourning within the circles (maybe very appealing to former citizen of Crye).
I am helping my DM with these circles and guardians (a lot of Dante shows up).
- DM
512) The mist swirls about and forms faces that scream and cry out in pain that apeear and vanish rapidly. All in this area must make a will save (DC 20) or come under the affect of a fear spell.
In addition to this, the rest of the graveyard is filled with tombstones of the town's dead from the Day of Mourning. All the graves are proper and in order as if there was ample time to properly bury them all. All the tombstones are complete with date of birth and death (the Day of Mourning), name, and an Epitath (spelling i know). If the PCs begin to read the Epitaths they realize that all the lines join together into some kind of story (or for more abstract/creative DMs, a poem) about whatever the DM wants. Topics of mine are ones expressing peace (and allow healing spells to function in the graveyard (maybe even a Hallow effect)), the party, a clue to what happened on that Mourning, part of the draconic prophecy, directions to somewhere, advice on how to face the Mournland, etc....
Too cool :-) what did you do to them!?I think half of the spookyness was due to my use of IRL lightning, music, voices, handouts etc. (In short: effects).
And just to get it right: The chars took an oath.. not the players
The wind that whispers forgotten legends of certain hero that fought for Cyre and if PCs listens too long they become obssessed (speling)So this Pc refuse to leave the place before hearing the whole legend and once he does that he gets a will save (DC 25 ) or be immidetly slain as phantasmal killer he sees an image of this hero corpse that has risen from the earth.
except that the DM takes each player aside as he is killed. he proceeds to describe how the second the character dies he feels fully restored. when the character opens his eyes he sees a huge number of images soaring by, they can be of anything the DM wants (DMs feel free to play with it). after 3d4 rounds of this kelydescope the character land on the ground (insert whatever place the DM wants) and find that though no party members are with him, he has all his gear and is exactly as if restored to full health and put through a teleport spell.
back at the fighting there is still the PC's body that dies. the PCs fight on and the same thing happens to those that die. once the entire party has been killed they find themselves back together at this new position. (feel free to add tracks of others who've been killed and taken here, if you decide the room drops everyone in the same spot.)
I commend you, Master Tirket.517. The PCs come across a town surrounded by a stone wall perhaps 5 feet tall. The town seems to be in good condition besides it's lack of inhabitants. As the PCs walk around the wall they pass a stone archway. As they glance by it they see a completely different picture. The city appears ancient as though it had been standing there for centuries. People can be seen by looking through the archway but they are all ghostly and translucent, floating their way across the standing ruins. Should any PCs pass through, describe how it seems as though they age, how their armor dulls and tarnishes,dust settles and cobwebs seem to spin out of nothing. Their skin pales and hair goes white and lengthens as the skin on their face stretches and their eyes sink inward. However, once the PC steps back out they instantly appear normal again.
518: as the PCs walk on very solid ground through a fog have them make listen checks (DC20), any who succeed hear the luff of sails, creaking of planks/lines, and whispers of orders. the fog begins to lighten and lo there sails (without moving) a fleet of Cyran warships still operated by thier warforged crews. apparently the Mourning tore these ships from thier patrol of Kraken Bay and dropped them here, never to sail again. they appear to be in the midst of a storm as sails are constantly run up and down (maybe even a crewer "falls overboard" and is "rescued"). the captain appears to be shouting orders, only they come out as whispers. if the PCs board they first discover that the warforged treat them as a hostile boarding party, and secondly these warforged have rusted plates and dead (that treelike stuff that is in them, basically give the impression of undead warforged)
like a scarlet ribbon in a young girl's hair,
Like a sinister cloak above the ground floating,
Stay away from this river boys, it's not for boating.
Include skeletal fish swimming through the current or jumping upstream.
520. If a PC has a tattoo of any sort of animal, it animates and moves around his/her body. A bull will start snorting and stamping its hooves, eagles will fly around, and snakes will slither around arms and legs, etc (actually, I'm considering offering this in my campaign simply as a cool tattoo).
521. The PCs find an inn. It sits off to the side of a dead forsaken road and is surrounded by a large cemetary. If they venture inside (oh pleeeeease) they find a fairly normal scene. Patrons gathered around the bar or sitting at tables, engaged in chess games or darts and other such tavern amusements. However, each and every one of them is a karrnathi undead. They are entirely non-hostile, though, despite their usual demeanor. In fact, they're pretty friendly once you get past the "Oh my goodness, I'm sorry, but does that hurt?" PC: "What?...." Skeleton: "Your skin condition, how it's all intact like that.... Guh..." stuff.'
522. Passing a destroyed town the PCs hear laughter and running feet. Coming around the corner are a few small children, no older than six or seven. However like everyone else, they never escaped the Mourning. Their little undead legs run and their little undead fists clutch sticks as they play "Adventurers and Monsters" and ask the PCs to help them look for buried treasure.
522:Don't know if this has been done before but if it has sorry.The PCs are walking through the Mournlands, and they come across a town, abandoned as always.They decide to camp out for the night.Evereyone on watch and any warforge continuously hear mad cackling and barely knowledgeable speech singing the prayers of the Daelkyr.If they look out a window they see a huge beast patrolling the streets, it's head hung back, cackling and singing prayers to the Daelkyr.Anything suitable to your campaign with the pseudo-natural template.When they kill it the body continues to cackle but now it's rambling contains things such as "Host forgive me" and "Why couldn't I stop it".Closer inspection of the corpse reveals it to have once been a cleric of the Sovereign Host.It is wearing holy robes and carries a holy symbol.In a satchel on it's back is a journal, the last entry being just before the Day of Mourning.It says simply "I can sense it coming, it is a force of evil and madness, I must warn the villagers!"There is one last thing scrawled in the margin of the last page in a script that seems to be trailing off, "I failed, I can feel the madness overtaking me, I hope that the Host can forgive me for I can not forgive myself."
This is for those of you who want to have the Day of Mourning be because of the actions of the Daelkyr.Hope you like it!
523) Walking through a valley the party realizes that they are caught between a rank and file formation of thousands of Karnathi undead and a few hundred Cyre cavalry. The Karnathi charge, trying to get to the party first, but the Cyre commander, swearing to save the innocent citizens caught in the middle, orders an all out charge against an overwhelming force.
The ground shakes, the undead soldiers scream as they approach at a full, never-tiring run, and the forces of Cyre raise a valiant battle cry “For the Golden Bell!” as the two armies charge right on the pc’s position. Just as they are about to collide with the party in the middle, both sides disappear into a cold, wet mist. Slowly, a single black square pillar appears just beside the party with the inscription
“The Battle of Breegan Hill,
The Brigade of the Golden Bell
Charged a force of over 6,000 troops
Saving {number of party} citizens of Cyre
The Brigade was lost to the last man.”
524) After falling asleep, one of the party seems to be floating over his own body, looking down on himself. He watches as out of the ground, a grisly pinkish tentacle works its way out of the ground beside his own head. Slowly, leaving a trail of slime, it begins to crawl across the person’s neck, which the watcher can feel. He can then both watch and feel as it beings to tighten, but he cannot awake nor can he fight it off. It very slowly, agonizingly tightens, cutting of more and more air. He sees his own face begin to blue and his legs begin to kick, but he cannot do a thing to help himself. His vision begins to spot, sparkle, and tunnel in. Finally, choking and gaging, darkness takes him.
He awakes, sitting bolt upright, gasping for breath. He is alive, but his neck is sore and bruised, making breathing difficult (-1 Con for 24 hours). The next time he lays down on the ground, he again sees himself from the same perspective, but this time a rotten hand bursts out of the ground and grabs his arm. Old, yellowed nails dig into his flesh, ripping away skin and muscle and stuffing the flesh into the hole in the ground. Once most of the upper arm is gone, the character wakes. A deep ache in his arm remains, but it is whole (-2 to Str for 24 hours).
Continue with this until the character is terrified to sleep on the ground ever again. (Mouths open under his feat, mouths with wide, flat teeth that slowly begin to eat away his feet. Not with clean cuts like a shark, but with grinding and mashing like a cow would, causing dex damage).
Here’s another, inspired by the poem in my sig…
525) On a bitterly cold day in the Mournland, in the distance the party sees a burned out house, but smoke still rises from the chimney. When they get to the house, they find an iron stove in the corner, roaring fire inside. If they open the door to the furnace to add fuel or to investigate, they see a man, curled up in the flames, smile on his face.
“Sorry chap, but would you mind closing that door? This is the first time I’ve been warm in years.”
I like it.526. An empty suit of masterwork fullplate sits on a stump by the side of the road seeming to sob, cradling the body of a handsome human warrior that looks as though it fits to the armor.
Your attention, if you please.Which is why i am going to inflict it on my players.
I'm going to run Shadows of the last war and have them meet up with the warforged from the future (#143) , the insane bard (#268) is going to show them the father and husband killing his wife and children. He's going to take a liking to them and follow them. He sees the river of blood in the sky and tells them the poem(#519) until they get about a mile from whitehearth. I'll show them to think twice before going in there again!
They wanted to have him tell his tale, and accompagnie, (spelling), them through the Mournland, like a guide. That wasn't in my plan though, so I had to improvise a storie. Feel free to use, discard or change as you see fit:
A bit of backstory on Grinner the Bard:
A barde is sitting on a blackened staircase in front of you. He excludes an aura of peace and happiness, and as he looks up at you, he smiles amiably.
527) Hi, I'm Grinner the former bard of The Gulping Gator Inn. Now I'm just a bard. No Inn anymore, is there?
Yes.. I survived the Mourning. I saw it all. The fog, the terror, the killing, dying, screaming, etc. It wasn't pleasant I tell you.
Why I didn't die? I'm not sure. But I didn't go unscathed. I think I may be immortal. The beasts and... things of the Mournland can't touch me. Only the living spells can harm me, and I always recover again. Maybe there is some kind of over spell somewhere in this raped corpse of a land, that can kill me. I don't know.
I do know that I can't leave. I have a purpose of some kind, vague to me though it is. I have this compulsion to go everywhere in this once beautiful land, and witness what have happened. The first time I see a place, I see the Mourning all over again, but centralized to the place in question. Like here.
He point behind him and retells the tale of the people who cut and starved to death, (#268).
I don't know who decides where I must go next, as there doesn't seem to be any plan to my coursing through the land of former Cyre..
His voice trails of for a moment, and his aura of joy fades and turns sad, while he remembers what once was.
Then he shakes his head and picks up his happy demeanor again.
But hey.. If you're going the same way as me, we can tag along for a bit? I have a lot of tales to tell, and I don't need to eat or sleep, so I can make myself usefull? Please?
Grinner actually IS immortal. In my campaign the Mourning was caused by a failed ritual held by 8 dragons, trying to prevent House Cannith, the war minister of Cyre, (or advisor, whatever), and a medusa sorceress sent from the daughters of Sora Kell, in creating warforged with dragonmarks, (or magebred humans, or some ther supersoldier or weapon).
The spell was to kill the three inplied and removed the memory and IDEA of the plan from everyone in Cyre. They had waited for that moment because they was sure everyone would be in Cyre. The advisor and medusa was on Metrol and the Patriarch of Cannith was in, (wassit called), the headquaters of Cannith. That is why the Mourning reputedly started both places.
Now the botched spell, (why it was botched is up toyou, (daelkyrs or lords of dust mingeling, a traitor in the midst of the dragons, fate, prophecy, you name it), covers all of Cyre, and Grinner has been infused with a certain portion of one of the 8 dragons. It seeks to protect it's vessel, and collect as much information about the Moruning as it can, then give that info to someone who can undo the mistake it and its fellow dragons made.
It's up to you if the rest of the dragon spirits are out there too, what they are doing, and where, (and how :-) ).
529) In a certain house, the doors rattle and thump as though someone where trying to escape, but when opened, nothing but an empty house lies beyond it.
530) A magic cyclone pulls everyone wearing red and all red objects toward it, but leaves anyone and anything else unaffected.
531) Anyone who reamains within Seaside, the city of sails, for more than a day, wretches in pain as their eyes fall out and are replaced by a hideous miniature mouth of razor sharp teeth (FORT DC 20 negates).
532) Those who enter Metrol without kneeling and saying a prayer at the city gates will be abandoned by a dear friend when they are needed the most.
533) As he/she walks through a city, the character with the Highest INT score will be followed by packs of black cats whom only he can see.
534) When the moon Eyre is full, a face appears on it and leers at the party from the heavens. Occasionally it mouths words, and a moment later an gust of unbearably cold air carries a short, raspy phrase "Kill Yourself" "Die" "LEAVE!" "Are you afraid to go to sleep?"
535) You could swear that shadow just moved on its own. Or did it? Do you dare tell your compatriots, who already think you're a little off? Would they believe you?
536) Nothing stirs. No animals, nor bugs, not even the wind.
537) The Party wizard is nearly torn limb from limb by a swarm of badgers, all of whom are former Familiars to the Wizards of Cyre.
538) Dawn never comes. Parties lacking a source of light or depending on the sun to keep track of time will have a hard time indeed. Especially when the Colony of Vampires whose territory they are skirting finds them...
Happy Halloween everyone.
Number 534 is absolutely fantastic. I will have to include this one in my own campaign. I can have a lot of fun with such a character.
528) The ghost of Fedrew, a mean-spirited artificer keeps watch over the shop he tended in life, Fedrew's Bottlecharms. If the party rests in or near his shop, which lies in Kalazart, he transforms all potions they carry into Potions of Poison (FORT 14 1d10 Con/1d10 Con).
529) In a certain house, the doors rattle and thump as though someone where trying to escape, but when opened, nothing but an empty house lies beyond it.
532) Those who enter Metrol without kneeling a saying prayer at the city gates will be abandoned by a dear friend when they are needed the most.
533) As he/she walks through a city, the character with the Highest INT score will be followed by packs of black cats whom only he can see.
534) When the moon Eyre is full, a face appears on it and leers at the party from the heavens. Occasionally it mouths words, and a moment later an gust of unbearably cold air carries a short, raspy phrase "Kill Yourself" "Die" "LEAVE!" "Are you afraid to go to sleep?"
535) You could swear that shadow just moved on its own. Or did it? Do you dare tale your compatriots, who already think you're a little off? Would they believe you?
Huh... Well Ill bb I need to go change my pants now.
539) The party is chased by a pack of dogs whose heads are on upside-down.
540) The party is haunted by a ghost who says everything backwards (siht ekil). If the party can make out what he's saying, he leads them his final resting place, a hall of mirrors. Unfortunately it's a lure, and now the party has to fight the ghost. Any who are rendered unconsious by the ghost are trapped inside a mirror, leaving the ghost to possess the body, and the party member to become a ghost.
541) Between the rafters and boards of an old barn crimson light spews forth with hellish intensity. Does the party dare venture forth and find out why?
542) Voices issue from within a house, but some hear pleas for help while others hear sound of revelry and festival. Nobody hears exactly the same thing, but everyone hears something. What is really going on inside that house?
544. Pick a commonly used word. Whenever a PC says it, instead his/her voice is changed somehow.
I used this last session in a non-mournlands adventure. My PCs were in a newly formed cavern that inexplicably appeared to be several centuries old. When reading the Infernal writing out loud, the devil's name "Baal'sha'dros" was said in a booming voice several octaves lower than the PC's own. I also had it echo around the chamber and called for listen checks for the PCs to hear whispers of "Souls!," originating from a point some six inches directly behind their own heads.
545. A PC walks right into an invisible wall that isn't there a moment later. Be vivid. Describe how there's a deafening thud as he is rocked backwards and, clanking in his heavy armor, falls to the ground dazed.
546. You hear swirling sounds around you, dogs slobbering and slavering, panting loudly as though right behind you, voices whispering a word that whips by your ear, a burst of music that races into nothingness or the boistrous sounds of a busy city street.
547. A PC attracts her/his own dust devil. A miniature swirling tornado surrounds the PC as they walk along. Have it pick up things like leaves or even bones and small pieces of armor as they trudge along.
548. A PC sinks half an inch into the ground as she walks along, leaving footprints filled with blood trailing behind her.
549. When a PC draws his sword, blood bubbles out of the scabbard or runs off of the blade in a small stream.
550. The bard's instrument's strings seem to be now made of human hair, some with their own gray streaks.
551. If a PC coughs or sneezes, a cloud of ancient dust accompanied by the smell of an ancient crypt billows into the air.
552. The PCs' hair and fingernails grow longer as though a great amount of time has passed. Include wrinkles on their faces that fade a moment after they're looked at.
553. The handle of a PC's weapon leaves his hand covered in blood even if it hasn't been used, yet appears dry when inspected.
554. When walking through a completely clear field with no features within at least 20 feet, a PC keeps feeling as though he/she's walking through spiderwebs every few feet.
555. A PC wakes up completely covered in insects and/or spiders.
556. A door is made up completely of bugs or spiders and the PCs have to walk through it to get where they're going (into a house, through an arched gate, a dungeoun door, etc).
557. A female PC grows a full and heavy beard that begins to thin and fall off after an hour.
558. The group walks past a field of corn, only on top of the stalks is a slightly larger-than-normal eyeball. As the PCs walk by, the eyes follow them in a silence broken only by the stalks whispering in a wind that doesn't seem to touch anywhere else.
559. A PC begins to see things strangely. When he sees other PCs or other living creatures he can see them as though their skin were transparent, so that they view the corded muscles and winding, glistening intestines. He sees familiars this way as well as him/herself if she looks in a mirror. (With warforged, you can see the structure of the plant-like stuff that traces through their bodies.)
You could watch a changeling PC as they morph and see the anatomy shift around or appear and disappear.
Throw something really wierd in there and have perhaps an eyeball where it shouldn't be (bicep, stomach, etc) staring back. You could even make it appear that a female PC has some twisted, grotesque, hunched up child shape in her belly that holds your gaze unblinkingly.
560. In a flash of lightning, undead surround you for miles. Their twisted, leering, skull-like faces circle you completely and you don't know where your companions are. Their rotted limbs reach out for you as their broken bellies spill entrails to the ground, for them or those beside them to trip upon and stumble to the ground with a ripping, squelching noise. The reek of death creeps into your nostrils and you fight the urge to vomit, to retch until your stomach turns inside out, until your face turns red and bursts, until your eyes pop out of your skull and land in the pile of filth at your feet or you choke and die on your tongue and join the ranks of bulging, bloated corpses that surround you for ever and you'll never escape even when your flesh rots to nothing and you walk as a fly-covered skeleton and.... and in the next blink of an eye.... it's all gone. You stare up at the Mournlands' gray sky with your friends looking down at you worriedly and a drop of blood falls from the heavens and lands on each of your blinking eyelids.
544. Pick a commonly used word. Whenever a PC says it, instead his/her voice is changed somehow.
I used this last session in a non-mournlands adventure. My PCs were in a newly formed cavern that inexplicably appeared to be several centuries old. When reading the Infernal writing out loud, the devil's name "Baal'sha'dros" was said in a booming voice several octaves lower than the PC's own. I also had it echo around the chamber and called for listen checks for the PCs to hear whispers of "Souls!," originating from a point some six inches directly behind their own heads.
This sounds like a monty python sort of thing lol kinda like tim the enchanter "My nam is tim" (it's said like my name is... tim?") This could definitly be used for something funny or disturbing depending on the word if it's food and you have a crepy chorus of groans of plesure (Like when you eat REALLY good food.) rise from the ground it's going to be creepy.
Interesting idia none the less
562) The plants spurn the touch of a party member; grass and tree branches twist and bend away from him or her. Bushes split down the middle to avoid being stepped on, and in some cases actually uproot and get out the adveturer's path. If a druid speaks with plants to learn why, the foliage replies "because we know what he/she did".
Justifiably, the player will have no idea what the plants are talking about, but it'll make the party a bit more wary of him/her all the same.
XXX. As the PC's step out of a particularly thick wall of dead grey mist (the kind where you can't see your own nose in front of your face) they find themselves in the middle of a bright, sunny, blue skyed, completely pristine Cyran village with absolutely no indication that the Mourning ever touched there, and none of the Mournlands effects can be felt here (PC's heal naturally, healing spells work, etc.) . In fact the townspeople still go about their days, stopping to tip their hats and say their hello's to the PC's. When questioned the townspeople will ask for news of the outside world, and even treat the PC's as guest of honor, going so far as to throw a town banquet in the city hall, with all townsfolk asking for news of the happenings outside the town. If questioned the townspeople will have no answers about the day of mourning, saying only that a strange wall of mist has surrounded their town some time ago(one day to be exact), and that it has prevented any of them from leaving. If the PC's take full advantage of the townspeople's hospitality and stay the night then in the morning they will find themselves awaking at their last campsite.
While that in itself my be creepy enough, it'll become all the better when the PC's travel the same way they did the previous day and encounter the same wall of mist, ending in them stumbling into the same pristine town where all of the townspeople react as if they had never met the party before, going so far as to repeat all of their actions from the PC's previous experience. This repeats again and again if the PC's keep spending the night in the town. Hopefully the PC's will eventually figure out that it has been the same day playing over and over again each time they enter the town. To up things a bit try having one of the townspeople die while the party is there, or, even better, have one townsperson attempt to kill one of the party and give the person no choice but to kill the person in self defense, then, when returning to the town the group will find the person alive and well and trying to kill them again.
Course you could be especially sadistic and make it to where the group is surrounded by the mist in a mile radius, giving them no choice but to go through the town and through the same day again. Hopefully one of the party members will try to kill themselves to escape this endless cycle only to find themselves waking up at the camp again with the others.
563.) After the previous vision, the character begins to see further images from the vision, until they are either driven mad by them, or attempt to communicate the vision to the other players. As soon as they do, blood begins to pour from their eyes, and as they wipe it away, they see the vision again, with one difference: The other pc's are in the forefront, as undead, and this time, the symptoms are real.
564.) As the party emerges from a particularly thick mass of mist, they emerge into clear day, fresh grass, etc. They will soon encounter a town, and find that they have been placed approximately 3 days before the Mourning. What the PC's do is up to them, but at some point, a messenger should arrive with a general of Cyre. The messenger states that they have come to draw out and destroy a silver haired madman known only as "Dead Light". The next morning, the PC's should awaken, and find a silver haired warrior fighting the general of Cyre. After a few rounds, the warrior strikes down the general. He leans down, and plucks something from the general. As he rises, he sees the PC's, and holds a dead gray crystal aloft, and light fills it. As the crystal approaches a blinding state, he utters the words [i]"It begins"[/i], as the dead gray mist begins to rush forth to change the world.
565. Pick a PC who's carrying rope. At some point as they adventure through the Mournlands, their pack begins to twist and shake on the adventurer's back. Should they drop it and open it, the coil of rope bursts out and slithers away on the ground like a snake. You can treat it like a Constrictor (Monster Manual. Just a big snake) and have it attempt to choke a PC. As it slithers off, they can try to "kill" it. If they cut the rope in the middle or nearer the leading end, it violently thrashes on the ground for a while until it stops moving, whereupon it is normal rope again.
566. A PC's coil of rope turns into coiled intestine, somewhat squishy yet strangely strong. (Changes no stats)
567. The PCs are flying through the Mournlands on an airship. A few hours after passing through the mist with having encountered only the most minor of the Mournland's Horrors, they begin noticing more personal and pressing problems. The bound fire elemental begins screaming.... Still bent into its encircling arc you see hands of flame claw at the air and wide eyes staring out madly. A gaping mouth filled with tongues of fire screams its torment, shouting that it's burning, it's burning!
568. The Elemental Ring around the ship sputters and twists, bending almost impossibly out of shape as though trying to escape its bound state. As you would expect, the ship begins to fall as the fire... changes.... A mere hundred feet from the ground the fire has left its original dancing form and shifted into large chunks of rock and dirt. As it hits the ground it slides smoothly into the earth, leaving any topside PCs behind on the desolate expanse of the Mournlands. Any PCs inside notice that the portholes go dark. The now-groundship keeps circling the landed PCs and surfacing randomly like a shark and dumps the other PCs as they come from below decks. Once all are gone it sinks into the ground and is never seen again (perhaps?...).
569 - Every living being (which excludes undead, of course, and maybe Warforged) they meet in the Mournlands shares similar physical oddities. Nothing big, mind you - subtle things, the sort that wouldn't be worth a second look if it didn't keep appearing. Hair - scalp, legs, eyelashes - turns gradually lighter until it turns white, even on young individuals. Skin feels less elastic, loses some of its flush and colour. Twenty-year-olds develop small wrinkles at the corners of their eyes. The skin starts to pull back from fingernails, which take on a yellowish hue and crack more easily. Eyes become bloodshot or jaundiced. If you have the Taint rules in Unearthed Arcana or that latest horror supplement, try a few of the mildest physical symptoms in there.
If the PCs keep going into the Mournlands - it's the centrepiece of your campaign, say - they start to notice these in themselves.
570 - The Mournlands taints things. Clerics will give alarmed looks to innocuous trinkets you bring back from the Mournlands, and can't say why. If you bring your horse in for stabling or drop your Mournlands expedition clothes off at the local cleaners-equivalent, the employees will look befuddled, then lean in and sniff the horse/clothing and comment, "what the hell is that?" And the PCs? Dogs stare at them as they go by. Small children back away on the street. A mother holding a baby walks past - the baby bursts into tears.
And nothing about the PCs turns each other off at all. They all feel normal and appear normal to one another. But maybe if they keep going back to the Mournlands, the civilized world starts to seem flat and unreal, like they're living in a play or a two-dimensional painting...
571 - The PCs happen upon a young woman in fancy clothing, carring little more than a ceremonial sword and a masterwork spade. This woman's hair is raven black and her skin is rosy, making one suspicious as a ghost, but she's alive and mostly unharmed. As a matter of fact, she's an aristocrat; a lord of this area of what was once Cyre. While her stats aren't incredible, she has a rare trait - whatever has the land so messed up, she's a natural immune. She's happily engage the PCs in conversation, but can be a bit muted when the subject of the Mourning comes up.
The aristocrat is convinced that the calamity was an enemy attack, and that as an individual of political influence she could have stopped the war but didn't. She feels that the blood of the Cyran people is on her land.
As lord of this land, she explains, she has a duty to her people; though she has failed them in the greatest way, she can at least make an effort to provide some small recompensation. That's what the spade is for - she's digging graves. She moves from town to town, burying the unrotting corpses.
This friendly young woman has already personally found, dug the graves for, and buried literally thousands since the Mourning.
And she won't stop until every citizen of Cyre has been laid to rest.
396) If a party member is a native and the party enters his/her home town they find a dead young woman (could be sister, aunt, cousin, neice, old friend, even lover) craddeling an infant. The weird part is that the infant is alive and well. If they take the child with them the party discovers that it never needs to be fed, have it's diaper changed, it never cries and it never grows and is immune to any effects of the Mournland. The baby giggles incessantly whenever something creepy or disturbing etc. happens. If taken out of the mournland it starts functioning as a normal baby but still it never cries. It would grow up normally to be a perfectly functioning adult, kind and caring but with a dark sense of humor and still finds the morbid and creepifying to be funny. The cool part about this is that it could be the lost child of a party member.
For added weirdness, the child could be completely aware of what's going on. It's cooing sounding almost like speech.
572. I was looking through here, and I don't know if anyone else posted this, but I have a way to add on to it. What if where ever they bring the baby (or as it grows, a child, adult, or teen) for an extended period of time, perhaps a week or month, some of the effects of the Mournland begin to affect the area. And if left for years, the effects become more apparent, and the child knows everything it is doing. That is why it giggles and loves misery.
An even darker fog surrounds the PCs. Though they do not notice it at first, their wounds seem to be worsening. The party paladin will sense everything around them, even himself, as evil. But there are no monsters in this area. The fog is in fact a living mass inflict minor wounds spell, and the PCs will die if they stay for too long.
574. On the contrary, a light fog, a living mass cure minor wounds spell. A break for the PCs, or an encounter with something else seeking refuge. You decide.
575. The PC's stumble upon a town in perfect working condition, in fact, the citizenry go about their daily lives and even greet the PC's. The only problem? The town's citizens are all awakened animals, some of whom even walk on two legs and carry on the normal trades of the town. The PC's are free to buy supplies, a warm meal, or even a cozy bed to sleep in for the night with no worry of harm of any sort.
576. As 575 only the citizenry are all children under the age of 10 who were somehow spared the effects of the Mourning and by some twist of fate have been free of the horrors of the Mournland. The children themselves are fine, in fact if removed from the Mournland nothing odd will happen. However, for a creepy twist the children may have turned to worshipping the statue of a local hero in the town square, going as far as to offer sacrafices to the mundane chunk of stone.
You can add a creepy bent to either of these but if used as just odd things with no ill effects, you could easily keep your PC's on edge through the entire encounter, especially if you ran a few of the earlier ideas. Heh.
Here's a few to keep your party guessing...
575. The PC's stumble upon a town in perfect working condition, in fact, the citizenry go about their daily lives and even greet the PC's. The only problem? The town's citizens are all awakened animals, some of whom even walk on two legs and carry on the normal trades of the town. The PC's are free to buy supplies, a warm meal, or even a cozy bed to sleep in for the night with no worry of harm of any sort.
576. As 575 only the citizenry are all children under the age of 10 who were somehow spared the effects of the Mourning and by some twist of fate have been free of the horrors of the Mournland. The children themselves are fine, in fact if removed from the Mournland nothing odd will happen. However, for a creepy twist the children may have turned to worshipping the statue of a local hero in the town square, going as far as to offer sacrafices to the mundane chunk of stone.
You can add a creepy bent to either of these but if used as just odd things with no ill effects, you could easily keep your PC's on edge through the entire encounter, especially if you ran a few of the earlier ideas. Heh.
Sounds like narnia and children of the corn
576: A group of adventurers of classes matching your parties all lay in the middle of a feild, huddled together dead with no visable signs of attack. Anyone performing a heal check (DC 35 to find) shows that the adventurers died from horriable wounds although it seems the wounds healed up just at the skin so their innerds are cut and riped apart while the skin is normal if not a little bruised...
577: A bard garbed entirely in paper and parchment wanderes the blasted lands singing mournfully. He totally ignores anyone he meets and occasionaly another peice of paper appears on his "robe". These papers vividly detail an ongoing story... One about the Pcs...
578. The PC's stumble upon a mostly intact library (whether in a town or mansion or whatever is up to you) where every book is different, yet if a PC starts to actually look then they'll see that the titles are all the same, although written in wildly different fonts, texts, and languages, every book is the same. The titles are all "The life and times of _____" with blank being the first PC to actually examine one of the books. Inside the PC will find his/her entire life story up until the moment when they read the book, the last passage should read, "and so _____ read the book blissfully unaware of the creatures hot breath falling on their neck, if they had just stopped reading and looked back maybe they'd still be alive today." By now the PC should freak out and look back to see...nothing, absolutely nothing. After this should the PC look back at the book they'll see that it's now about another party member, ending in the same way again and again should they keep reading it over and looking again.
579. As 578 only there are gross errors in the PC's past, such as saying that their childhood pet dog Scruffy was sacraficed to a dark force by the PC instead of saying that it had really just passed away of old age. This works even better if another party member is reading of the PC's life, and should hopefully lead to the rest of the party being weary of things that the PC had never even done.
sorry if any of these are duplicates
580. The PC's, venturing through an exeptionally gloomy forest (inhabited by living darkness or Net of Shadows spells - harmless but creepy and annoying) find what seems to be huge silkworm cocoons or butterfly crysalids which glow with a pulsating light (candle intensity, strong magic, not evil). The living darknesses won't go here, and inside the cocoons are small children sleeping (unborn at the time of Mourning). Will the PC's take them some place safe or let them sleep peacefully?
581. A shifter/changling/barbarian/druid PC begins to shift, wild shape, change shape or enter rage uncontrolably. These uses don't count as used up if they can only do this X times per day
As the PCs trek through this night they will wander through the pools of darkness and the fountains of light. The baleful moon and poisonous dark will each take their turn with them. For when the party stumbles out of the dark woods with trees that tear like claws and willows that weep dirges to the wind, they will find what happens to those who catch the moon's eye.
With the malicious caress of the moon's white light will come the hair, sprouting from between sleeves and around buttons, bursting 'twixt the seams of armor. Their nails and teeth with lengthen as their eyes begin to burn with... animal ferocity as they feel the growl begin to rumble deep within their throats.
But they find respite in the clouds' shade, where the eye cannot envision them as the moon's worshippers, those werecreatures of the night. But it is in this darkness that the beast inside their minds is awakened. It is in this darkness that the collar is slipped off and the promise of the hunt, the promise of the chase and of blood is whipped into the deepest reaches of their souls so that they are almost driven mad in the running.
And they do not cease this chase, the dance between light and dark, between the corruption of the body and the mind until dawn, when the eye lids itself and no longer sees them as the animals they are, and when the shadows fade and no longer call out to the beast that each knows themselves to be.
Count the PC's as having no rest that night and all are fatigued. No one has rested 8 hours for spells or even concentrated for one hour. Perhaps the cleric can pray during the day, but I would suggest not throwing anything really hard at them after that.
"Remember remember the fifth of Therendor
The Valenar TREASON and plot.
I can think of no reason the Valenar TREASON
should ever be forgot."
A thousand wispy, ethereal voices chant this ceaselessly if it is read aloud.
Oh, and I like Alan Moore. A lot.
Would I class myself among the uneducated masses if I asked who Alan Moore is?
Alan Moore is the man who redefined comics as a medium. He is the author some fine works such the "Watchmen" and "V is for Vendetta". If you read him , Neil Gaiman, and Bill Willingham you'll probably never be satisfied with super heroes ever again. Even if you don't like comics, their works possesses literary merit and relevance only a few contemporary authors can claim.
In the first issue of "V is for Vendetta", an anarchist named V blows up Parliament in a style emulating a failed assassination in 1603, which comes to be known as the Gunpowder Plot. From this, a British nursery rhyme emerged:
"Remember remember the fifth of November
The gunpowder treason and plot
I can think of no reason the gunpowder trason
should ever be forgot".
V chants this before he sets off the explosion. I simply threw in the appropriate Eberron references. I also toyed with the idea of using the Darguuni revolt:
"Remember remember the fifth of Therendor
The hobgoblin treason and plot
I can think of no reason the hobgoblin treason
should ever be forgot".
584. Any dead body that a PC lays to rest (coins on the eyes, delivering last rites, etc) gets up and follows the PC dumbly, several paces back.
OR
585. If any PC lays an unrotting Mournland corpse to rest, all others in the area get up and walk towards them and lay down with expectant looks on their faces. Likewise, any bodies they pass on the road open their eyes and cry out at the PC with gaping mouths, asking for peace and eternal rest. If the PC walks on (50 feet away, say) the bodies fall back over silent, as though nothing had happened.
586. I don't know how you'd want to incorporate it, but what do you think about this bit of horror?
586: The body of the chars, or people they see distort and mutate.. eyelids become mouths, teeth become nails, etc. Maybe it isn’t real and only in the pc’s heads, maybe it really happends.
569. A PC's lips begin to chap very rapidly. They soon split and bleed. However, because of their rapid decay, only red dust floats into the air. The PC feels excruciating pain for a moment, and then the next all pain is gone and his/her lips return to normal.
Don't look at me like that! You were all thinking the same thing!
Heh. Heh-heh.
HehehehehahahahBWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! ::cough::
Sorry... DM power gets to my head sometimes. I just had a really great session this evening, and am feeling fantastic.
571. Along the roadside the PCs find an abandoned church. The once bright white walls have now faded to gray and no vegetation grows around it, as the dry, cracked earth clearly shows. A large tree grows in the front of it and everyone notices that each branch has its end snapped off. When they walk inside they find that everything is ruined. Wooden pews are snapped into splinters as are candle stands and everything but the stone alter, and skeletons litter the ground everywhere. But they are most definitely not right. Each and every single bone lies broken, snapped in two, splintered along the ground. It is impossible to tell how many there were because no skeleton is complete.
Almost unnoticed in the gray corner, a person in priest's robes (also turned gray) speaks up, "Yeah, pretty unfair really. As soon as the mist rose and the horrors began stalking this land they all came to the church for aid. They prayed ceaselessly, asking te gods to protect them, to deliver them from this evil. I and the other priests tried to calm them down to soothe their nerves, for everyone was practically shaking, they were all on edge. Then I noticed that the tree's limbs had all snapped. It went quiet in the room, as though everyone were listening for something, and then someone cracked their knuckles in nervousness.
"You know how it is, when someone hears someone else, they start doing it. Pretty soon everyone was cracking their knuckles. But it didn't stop there. They kept on snapping. Everyone's eyes went sort of out of focus, crazed-like, like they were almost possessed. They just kept on snapping until they'd broken every bone in their body. They all just lay there as the benches began snapping themselves, all twisted up, broken on the floor, staring up with that crazy look and trying to keep on breaking their bones...
"You'd best leave, I wouldn't think this to be a grand place to hang around. You might catch something," and he smiles nervously, fidgeting with the sleeves of his robes.
Just as the PCs shut the door, they hear a soft click! that breaks the deadened silence, and a low moan of muted terror from the priest and more, and more, and more clicks that get louder and louder as they walk away from the church.
Then just wait for your PCs to start cracking their knuckles.
good work!
Walking through a flat, desert-like plain in the mournlands, the PC's find a small child maybe only five years old. The small boy is pale, thin, and seems to have not slept in many many days*weeks, months, years, what have you*. The boy sits in a fetal position rocking back and forth clutching an old teddy bear. Occasionaly he starts to nod off but immediately his eyes flash open and begins to scream, as if from a terrifying nightmare.
If a PC gets close*within 5 feet* the boy begins crying and asking for help*like a child waking in the middle of the night from a nightmare*. If a PC attempts to comfort the child, his/her attempts are ultimately futile. Simply casting a calm emotions spell calms the boy who then thanks the caster and hands them his teddy bear, and the boy fades away with a knowing smile on his face.
The teddy, if within five feet of a sleeping PC, will send visions to the PC of 1001 Mournland Horrors.
Is the teddy bear cursed with horrifying images, or does the bear give the bearer prophetic visions of whats to come?
forgezilla?
Don't look at me like that! You were all thinking the same thing!
Actually I was going to call it King Forge...course I was also going to mention Merrix wanting to capture the thing and bring it to Sharn, you know, because giant monsters and big cities are just a perfectly safe combination.
Also left out the breath weapon...heh.
573. As the PCs walk along the desolate landscape of the Mournlands, they attract the attention of a pack of puppies. Completely ordinary puppies that follow the PCs around. They need no form of sustenence, they're cute and cuddly, and follow the PCs with a cute loyalty that makes everyone go "Awwwwwww!"
However, once the PCs engage in combat, something strange happens. Each fiery blast of magic, each cut and chop inflicted on their enemies.... deals the same damage on one of the puppies. The mage casts fireball? A puppy yelps and disappears in an enferno of flame, it's one silky coat consumed by the fire and now ash on the wind. The paladin smites evil and drops a foe to cleave into another? Two puppies are slashed in half as though by his sword.
But. The puppies still follow, their mangled corpses dragging themselves along the ground with their silvery ghosts following above, no longer wagging their cute little tails, following as though dragged by some invisible collar, bound to the PCs by their unjust deaths.
(I portrayed Merrix as an evil puppy-kicker in my campaign, so that's where I got the puppy-cruelty idea.)
you and your puppy fur coat... this is your doing...
575. Any wooden items a PC has appears to be now made of pale, gleaming bone.
576. A heavily armored PC begins to feel claustrophobic. His helm seems to be almost suffocating him, his breastplate is too tight, his arms and legs feel restricted. It's almost as though something inside his armor were forcefully holding him, choking him, forcing him to be still.
577. A PC's hair grows to the point that they have difficulty walking, like their own hair were purposefully tripping them when they tried to move, or grappling them to the ground.
578. A small pond of blood becomes apparent in the middle of the path. As the PCs go around it, or move closer to inspect it, a PC trips and falls in. As he tumbles towards the murky crimson pool, it almost seems like a face forms on the smooth surface, twisting its mouth into a fanged grin and reaching out with clawed fingers to pull the PC into its warm embrace. Only the PC who falls see this, the others just see him trip.
579. While investigating any graveyard, the PC who is farthest from any others suffers an accident. A gravestone catches her eye. For some reason she is drawn to it, though the letters are barely visible through the dust and spiderwebs that cover it. As her fingertips brush away the concealing dirt she reads.... her own name. The birthdate is correct, as is the name. The date died seems to read.... today. The ground opens up and she falls into the gravepit and into a coffin, the lid of which slams shut after her.
The other PCs will notice her shout and see her disappear. When they rush over they can open the coffin and drag her out with no problems.
580: As the pc's march through a wooded area they see what appear to be men draped in black robes all facing out of the woods standing amoungst the trees, they wave earily. Any ranged attack misses or passes harmlessly through and anyone who comes close realizes that it is only a bush. A spot check of 20 also reveals this. This little one is enough to make your pcs get worried about a ritual of evil mages. You can also use this one as a false peak for a scarier horror.
581. The PCs, after wandering through the woods the whole day, stop to make camp. All around them the trees leer at them with faces made of knotholes and moss, their twisted branches resembling claws that creak and snap in the wind. When the PCs sleep, the one on watch begins to hear whispered voices, but after a while realizes that it is only the wind. His eyes become heavy and he also sleeps. When everyone wakes up in the morning, there are (number of party) new trees around the edge of their camp. Each is about as tall as a party member, and their equipment hangs from its limbs. However, while the other trees give the impression of faces, it seems as though these trees grew their own, in exact likenesses of the PCs.
583: After the characters stumble from multiple days of hard work in the mournland anl leave the pale mists they find the mourning has covered the ENTIRE WORLD...or has it.....(this scared the $%it out of my players)
584: One of the PC's(who has distinctive Crye background of coruse) hears the sound of a female voice calling him to her the other PC's hear a soft moaning sound when they find its soruce of origin they finda female ghost (someone the "victim" knew)inviting them to dinner in their small humble shack. There is a mirror in the shack opposite a large dinner table covered with delicious foodstuff the food is safe to eat and warmDetect poison
ant the like reveal the food id edible and good eating.BUT every time the character takes a bite out of the food it appears that his mirror image has taken a bite out of itself.
My 2cp
#586. Perhaps the animal was right. Every night, when the party awkakens, there is a skeleton of the type of animal that the disturbed one from #585 is. (A horse skeleton for the Paladin's mount, a frog sleketon for a frog familiar, etc.) Every night, though, one of the bones of this new skeleton is missing, until, on the final night, only the skull remains. The next night, the animal dissapears without a trace. (Should the party leave before then, no adverse affects remain.)
#587. If the animal dissapears, that day, they are attacked by a dire (insert animal type here). Should it be killed, the (paladin/wizard/sorcerer) loses XP as if it's familiar were killed.
588. Walking through the dark, twisted shadows spread by ancient and gnarled trees, you begin feeling a presence. Turning around you see no one but your companions but there's still that... sensation... of someone else following. You hear it in the wind, what could have been a breath, you hear it in the footsteps breaking twigs and rustling leaves just half a second after you've already stopped.. What's that shape in the darkness around that tree? Is it......?
Similarly, a fun one to have crawling out of shadows:
589. A writhing mass of slopped intestines and entrails schlepps across the ground in a sort of roiling, wriggling movement. What's worse are the eyes that seem to boil to the surface and roll back down every now and then, eyes of every color and size.
And now, 589 in poetic verse:
What's that in the shadows, beginning to move?
Or rather seep out, schlepp over and ooze?...
A mass of intestine once slopped but now roiling,
With, worse, glist'ning eyes that surface as though boiling.
Have a happy Thanksgiving, hope you enjoy yourselves and have fun with the families. I look forward to seeing where this has gone in a week's time.
581. After a long stint of riding, a PC complains of pins-and-needles in his foot and leg. Looking down, he does indeed have pins and needles stabbed all along his leg (1 point of damage).
582. A PC complains of pins and needles as they are walking along and another party member notices a doll in the shape of the other PC with needles in its legs.
Don't die, thread......
Logos
566: As the PCs walk through a sparsely wooded area, a single linen shirt floats down through the air to become snagged in the branches of a tree. It is followed by a simple brown peasant's skirt. More and more clothes begin to rain down until the trees are covered in a bizarre canopy of cloth. They reach a village just through the woods and find that all the villagers lie dead in their homes, naked.
567: In a graveyard outside a small rural church, the stone angel above a family grave sheds a single tear as the PCs pass.
568: If the PCs camp includes a campfire, the wood they use to light it cires out in pain as it is lit, screaming as if it were being burned alive. A pained female face appears in the flames, begging them to stop her torment. The next morning, they come to a neraby town. In the town square there is a still-smoldering pyre with the charred skeleton of a human woman tied to a stake in the center. A small, hastily carved plaque nearby reads, "As the grey mist advanced, we offered up this witch to the Sovreign Host. May the heathen's death spare us..."
569: In another graveyard, all the faces on the statuary turn to watch the PCs pass.
570: As the PCs explore an abandoned home, they find the pristine corpses of a mother and child. The mother sitting in a rocking chair next to a cradle, the child seemingly asleep inside. Both are somehow still rocking and the faint sounds of a mother's last lullaby can be heard hanging in the air.
The Only thing consistant is a Stasis Box (or Eldirtch Machine ) designed to Keep Super Power Magic (artifact or Epic Level things) from affecting everything else seems to misfunctioning after 4 years of abondanment adn now WHATEVER was inside it is trying to get out (and attempting to use the PC's to do it)
Logos
594. It is evening, approaching deep darkness. Just within the light of the fire hangs something in a tree that blows back and forth in the chill wind. Inspection reveals it to be a doll of humanoid shape, draped in ragged cloth. When the PC turns away and then looks back, it appears that there is another. Looking back again shows another, and another and another until after enough looks each limb is draped in lifeless hanging dolls, their limbs idly flapping in the ragged breeze.
595. A PC dreams of a small child crying and asking for help, calling for her mother, terrified. When the PC wakes up, they are cradling a doll. However, the doll has two sets of lips in place of eyes, and an eye where the mouth should be. It blinks as he stares.
596. The PCs meet a strange figure walking about the mournlands, seemingly naked but for a loincloth. From a distance all seems well, but close enough to see better they realize something is amiss. It almost looks like a pair of gloves dangle from his wrists, as do a pair of toed socks dangle from his ankles. The skin around his shoulders and ribs and all along the sides of his body down to his feet looks a little.... stretched. His face isn't right either, and he almost looks like he's wearing a mask. He acts friendly enough (or ignores them completely) and as he walks away, they see a long line of loose stitching revealing, in fact, that he's wearing a suit of someone else's skin.
(596 was inspired from the good old Aztec bringing of spring ritual. Check out the Aztec culture, they're rather... inspiring.)
597. The PCs find an abandoned farm house. it is largely intact, though ancient and decrepid. A figure can be seen through the window, though it appears to be quite dead. Upon entering the house, they find that the place is covered in dust and cobwebs and nothing seems out of place, just very old. Inexplicably, an air of sadness, lonliness, and longing seems to permeate the air. Inside, everyone feels sad and disheartened, missing loved ones not seen for far too long. The corpse viewable from the window appears to be that of a young woman, once brightly beautiful, now dead and unrotting as all of the corpses of the Mournlands. In her hands lies a letter that informs a Mr. Nickolai del'Therendar of his drafting into the Cyran army, unsmudged by the tears that constantly fall from her unliving eyes.
598. A procession of mourners walks the lonely Mournlands landscape, bearing a body on a body held on a stretcher above them. Black shrouds draping the mourners and pallbearers whip in a wind that affects only them. In a particulary powerful gust, they lose their shrouds but continue on. Now you see them uncovered, see their forms, vile and disgusting. It appears that each piece of the deceased mourns his passing. The pallbearers are humanoids composed of various humanly bits. The front pall bearer appears to be made entirely of brains, while the one next to him is made of loops and loops of slimey coiled intestine. Likewise, an walking ear-man, finger-man, and so forth all trail behind or help support the litter. (They ignore the PCs)
(okay, yeah this could be taken to an inappropriate level, but oh well, deal with it)
599. A PC lights a torch and as he does so, the wood starts screaming and twisting in his hand unless he puts it out, whereupon it doesn't say anything more. If dropped, it writhes in pain until it burns out, ending in a gurgling scream.
600. A PC's bow (or any wooden item) shoots out (very small) roots, as well as limbs and leaves. As they are without sustenence or contact with dirt (unless it happens at night when they're on the ground) they quickly wither and die, turning brown and losing their leaves and the limbs and roots shrivel, but stay attached.
603) The party finds a strange circle standing upright that appears to have been partially melted, Within the circle seem to be a crowd of ghosts, all slowly mutating into pseudonatural versions of their former sleves. If the party tries to talk to them, they can only call out curses against House Cannith.
605. A PC sees a colony of large insects (about a quarter the size of a tennis ball). They have human (elf, dwarf, etc) faces.
27. The voice of a crying woman that seems to come from no discernable location. If weapons are drawn it gets louder.
28. A ring of ghostly children who are dancing around a beaten gallows where the still fresh corpse of a woman hangs, gently swaying in the breeze. The children are holding hands and chanting ring around the rosy in somber voices. The children appear to be very badly burned, but do not notice their wounds.
29. The apparition of a bard hunched over the corpse of a fallen woman, playing a mournful tune on a mandolin (If you are familiar with Blackmore's Night, the tune he is play is entitled Beyond the Sunset).
30. A single childrens doll laying in a pool of blood. The sound of a crying child can be heard, but whenever a female character approaches the doll, the crying stops.
31. A small cluster of farm houses that appear deserted. Food still sits on the table, as if the family will return to their meal shortly. Upon the walls, written in blood, is a single word: Why?
32. A single weeping willow by the bank of a stream. The leaves continually drip moisture that is warm and salty. Beneath the tree is an unmarked cross.
33. A woman clutching two children. All three have been turned to stone, but the figure still weep.
This is good stuff. My players will never enter the mournlands again.
Cheers,
Save vs DM
Wow. All of them up to this point are great ideas, but these actually made a cold shiver go down my spine. Well done!
608. When the characters leave the Mournland, they find that time seems to have passed in reverse outside.
609. The next time one of the characters looks in the mirror their reflection appears to be a daelkyr
610. A field is filled with bodies, each one turned inside out, exposing their internal organs.
611. The characters wake up with the faces of people who died in the Mourning.
612. A cube of gray smoke appears in the air, if anything comes in contact with it, it is turned into dark crystal (hardness 10). Around the cloud are crystal statues of human body parts.
613. A large (about 40ft diameter) ring made of still living bodies stitched together slowly spins in the air over a deep canyon.
614. The characters find a ring of panes of glass set in the ground, each speaking and telling one person's recolection of the day or Mourning.
615. Approaching the grey mist, the elemental slows, and eventually stops mere meters from the mist. Out of the mist, Avoral and Erinyes land on the ship and start demanding cargo manifests, traveling papers, indentity papers, and anything else customs officials usually demand. After acertaining that the players aren't smuggling anything or anyone out of Cyre (they look at the PC's quizically if they ask about the Mournland), they will issue temporary traveling and identity papers to those players who don't have any, requesting that they procure official ones when they return to their place of residence.
Oooo...just thought of another.
616. Approaching the grey mist, the PC's see what seems to be a...Toll Booth. If they try to ram the barricade or avoid it, the booth merely moves with them. (The grey mist will recede as well, preventing them from leaving until they pay the toll.) Inside the booth is, of course, a Toll Troll. You can make the toll anything you want, but something inane like "happy thoughts" or "a few of your hairs please" makes for a more memorable Toll.
619. The terrain takes on the appearance of marshlands. When suitable weight is applied in the soft mud, the resultant puddle is actually blood.
620. A field of flowers gently blow in the wind, however these aren't flowers and there is no wind. The "flowers" are actually small constructs made to look like flowers. They are drawn to body heat and the petals are sharp as blades. In addition to the cutting damage they may be able to inflict, they alternate with exuding a grease like substance that decreases footing and spraying (like pollen) a salt like substance into the air.
621. Upon awaking in the Mournland, the sky is it's usual drab grey overcast. There is an approaching cloud that is darker than most. The cloud issues forth a rain like substance in its wake. If the party waits to see what the effects are, insert one of the following freely: acidic - corrosive properties, a blood-like dye that won't wash of with regular means and draws all manner of carnivores to it, the droplets fall with the velocity of a thrown dart and can break the skin, the liquid like substance is metallic and has a cumulative effect similar to the Neo's mind trip after taking the pill, etc.
622. As the party crosses a seemingly docile plain, strong metallic rods that resemble large needles begin to sprout up randomly underfoot. Add a little moisture and uneven land and you have an unpleasant situation that set to get worse.
my .05 coppers worth
623. Two living fireball spells head towards the party, when all of a sudden they turn into a sperm whale and a bowl of petunias. (works best for a party in an airship)
624. A warforged who's terminally depressed. Goes on about how inteligent he is (mind the size of a planet), and all they have him do is escort parties. (Doesn't mention who "they" are, although if you want to place Zaphod into your campaign, the mournland's the place to do it.) Always looks at things from a negative prespective.
625. A rain of naked beautiful women. (Read the book. It's in there.)
626. Mice. That talk.
627. The "Total Prespective Vortex". An Eldrich Machine that shows you your importance in the universe. Usually shatters the person by showing them how insignificantly unimportant they are. (DC13 will save. Must fail to survive, cannot fail on purpose.)
That's all for now, folks.
640) The dirt surrounding a cannibal's grave is infected with Ghoul Fever. Any who come near must save-vs.-disease. The grave is possessed by the spirit of its inhabitant and moves about, trying to swallow victims in its earthen maw.
641) The massive black thunderhead is actually a colossal wraith, or perhaps hundreds of smaller wraiths. Why do they gather, and where do they come from?
642) All who enter Queen Diani's bedroom turn into vampires.
643) The figures depicted in the mosaic move and stretch to watch you. You can hear the clinking of thousands of chips rearranging themselves to follow your movements.
645. The PCs wake to find a gravestone near their camp. The next day when they make camp, they find it near the next morning, and the next (and so forth).
647. As 646, only if the group watches for long enough they'll see another child walk up with a large wicked looking doll dressed in black spiked armor and wielding a massive (well, for the doll) scythe. As the new child sets his doll down and begins to play, the other children will begin screaming out things such as "oh no, it's Sapletsedon, reaper of souls". At this point the children will play as if the new doll were attacking the PC dolls. If the group continues to watch, this is where the real horror begins. The 'Sapletsedon' doll uses it's weapon to slash at the warriors back, only when it does, blood splatters all over the floor and the children as the dolls back rips open. This continues as the doll brutally slaughters and dismembers the other dolls who bleed and even leak out bits of entrails and other gore. When all the PC dolls have been destroyed the now bloody children rush off with their only remaining doll, laughing and giggling gleefully.
648. As 647, but if the PC's examine the dolls, they find that the blood is now just dried paint on the dolls, the entrails are bits of thread and so on. Should unsettle the PC's who should find themselves questioning what they saw, whether the dolls were really bleeding or not.
649. As 647, only the PC's will hear a deep demonic voice screaming out "Sapletsedon" from somewhere nearby, followed by crashing sounds as if something were charging in the groups direction.
650. As 646, only the children will reveal dark secrets about each character that will/should lead the others to distrust them, whether these are true or not is up to the DM.
653. The PCs walk over a field of dead birds that crunch and squish underfoot. (I would imagine minuses to move silently.)
That it is not.
I simply had an idea this morning, and while it might not be an entry that fits this thread precisely, it is still related to the subject, and will still benefit anyone who looks up this thread.
And so I hope you can forgive me
While in the Mournland, the strange energies that has soaked the land, will subtly soak into the characters and their equipment too.
Make a diceroll to see if they are affected, and wether the equipment they brought in was effected. Any eqipment found inside the devastated area is affected.
Make a roll for every day they are inside. You decide the % risk.
Is they are affected, one of many things could happend:
1: They could carry the taint of the mournland outside the fog, and thus spread the effects. If the affected object/char. is in one place for more than a set period of time, the place will begin to aquire some of the properties of the Mournland.
2: They get cursed or maybe blessed, (or maybe both), with properties tied to the areas they have traversed in the Mournland. If they went through an area with blood rain, then all water they touch turn to blood. If they rescued an aerenal ghost from its ghoulish tormentor, then they can suddenly understand the aerenal language, or the deathless know of them and will grant them a favor if they ever meet one.
3: The objects they have are cursed/blessed, or have gained sentience.
4: The chars get flashbacks to the Mournland every now and then, but the flashbacks either last longer and longer, (thus rendering the chars unable to escape them, or driving them mad with uncertainty to wether what is happening is life or memory), or maybe the memories begins to affect real life, changeing the location into what is seen in the memory, or changeing the people around them in subtle ways.
These ideas are all very rough and scetchy, (and my spelling sucks), but they could all have tremendous effect both on mood and story.
If you have any more ideas please post them, and if Poetic Justice finds my "hijacking" offensive, then please tell me
I'll start a new thread for it then.654) The Pcs find a celler door in the middle of a field. If they enter they find the place compleatly bare of people. If someone looks up or a DC 10 spot check they see that there are at least 10 people stuck to the ceiling with what looks like some kind of green goo, dead but preserved of course. If touched it is a DC 15 strength check to remove from the skin, although if it's another, slightly lower, strength check to remove from whatever you use and so on. If the PCs look around some more they find a huge cockroatch nest. Swarm, if possiable, of giant cockroaches.
I'm not sure if that'll work but it's worth a try...
655. A swirling tornado of ghosts and other such souls wonds its way across the mournlands nightmarish landscape. Anything in its path is not blown by the wind or affected in any way, but the souls trapped in its swirling mass grab and tug at whatever they touch. Shimmering ghosts of the unrotting dead are ripped from their bodies and trees shiver as though in fear at their touch.
The PC's finally hear something over the whispers, a lilting violin melody that not only overshadows the whispering, but blocks it out and even seems to dull the moaning of the wind. In a small house they find the ghost of a bard playing his violin endlessly, producing a continuous countersong effect. He cannot leave the place of his death, but seems to be susceptible to the insanity of the whispers, his endless playing the only thing keeping the voices at bay. If the PC's are friendly, they can sleep in his house, gaining respite from the madness of the Mournlands. If they are hostile, the bard will turn his magic upon them. The whispers and moans give the ghost +2 situation bonuses to his save DC's of all mind-affecting effects.
657. The PC's come to the house of an accomplished painter who died in the Mourning. His house is filled with portraits. PC's may recognize some people from the surrounding village. But DC 25 Spot checks reveal that when a PC looks at a painting, and again later, it has changed slightly. They also come to the man's workroom, where the man's last works remain: half-finished works of the PCs themselves. Is the painter's ghost trying to continue his work? Is he painting the faces of the dead? If so, are the PC's in danger?
659: I borrowed this from an episode of Inyasha - A faceless fiend is wandering the Mournlands. Whenever he finds someone alive, he tries to steal their face. The fiend must first succeed on a grapple check, then make a touch attack that requires a fortitude save (DC15+strength modifier). Success results in 1d8 Charisma damage, failure means the PC's face has just been torn off and they are slain instantly by the death effect. If the PC passes their fortitude save, but Cha reaches 0, their face is still torn off. The PC begins to take 2 points of Constitution damage per round until a high DC heal check saves them. Until the PC has their face restored, Cha may never rise higher than 1, they are blind, and they cannot speak. :evillaugh
662. As the PCs stumble through the carnage that is the Field of Ruins, they discover a band of warforged skinning the dead. The warforged soldiers plan on wearing the skins in an upcoming raid on a Karrnathi outpost (+5 on Intimidate checks vs. creatures of flesh and blood).
664: A battlefield where humans and warforged clashed. All are dead and dismembered or almost completely disassembled except for one lone figure, a warforged which appears to have tried to put on a human skin. The skin is animated, and occasionally manages to remove a part from the warforged. As fast as the skin pulls them off, the warforged manages to get other parts from the ground around him to rebuild himself. There's no telling how long this conflict has been going on.
665) The party comes across a cave. The weather has turned pretty cold and nasty so hopefully they go in. Inside is a bunch of magical items and gold and stuff. If the party divides the stuff and takes it the next day it is gone. In its place is a shiny visible tattoo somewhere on them that says GREED.
Later someone asks to join them. He makes dinner and out of their rations makes supposedly a grand meal but it turns out to be only a small bowl of gruel. If anyone in the group complains then the next day somewhere else on their body is the tattoo of GLUTTONY.
As you can see there is a pattern. Keep testing them and if they figure out what is happening then hopefully things change but the whole time that they are in the Mournlands this happens. If they get all seven sins they get very rich but don't enjoy it, have all the love they want but can't love it anymore, have lots of rich and wonderful foods but it turns to sand in their mouths, everything makes them angry, they're sad more and more, boastful and taking credit for things the other party members have done, and things like that. Or you can have that happen after every sin...ooh. *Shrug* so yeah. Have fun!
666) The players walks through a plain that seems normal when they see a huge mansion. It seems in a good shape but, this mansion attract them (whatever you say they approach it). When they are just in front of it, the door slam wide open (with a BIG dust cloud). They are attract in. When they are in... they see womens and children hanging from the ceiling. There is a trace of blood rising the great stairs in the middle of the floor. There's also blood hand traces on each windows. There's something writed on the wall that says ''Don't cry''. Outside the night falls (even if it was the morning though) and children are approaching the house.
As they approach they can see that every children as something special...they had been hanged, drowned, cutted to death, breaked off the jaw, beated...etc. As they are near the windows they start to scream and hit them but, they won't break down.
When they finally stops they disappear. That's when everybody hear it. From the basement, someone is digging. This doesn't stop until they decided to rest. When they finally fall asleep they are immediatly wake by a door that had been slammed on the 2nd floor and they start hearing children crying agony and pain. Then, the basement's door slams and something leaves it darkness...
As they are paralysed, womens and childrens hanging up the ceiling start to cry blood. The creature says '' Don't cry. I had make your tombs.''.
-From my great and horrific imagination
Aah, hello Shar. You have to admit, you gain at least some satisfaction from shoving a badge in Merrix d'Cannith's face and yelling "STFU!"
573. As the PCs walk along the desolate landscape of the Mournlands, they attract the attention of a pack of puppies. Completely ordinary puppies that follow the PCs around. They need no form of sustenence, they're cute and cuddly, and follow the PCs with a cute loyalty that makes everyone go "Awwwwwww!"
However, once the PCs engage in combat, something strange happens. Each fiery blast of magic, each cut and chop inflicted on their enemies.... deals the same damage on one of the puppies. The mage casts fireball? A puppy yelps and disappears in an enferno of flame, it's one silky coat consumed by the fire and now ash on the wind. The paladin smites evil and drops a foe to cleave into another? Two puppies are slashed in half as though by his sword.
But. The puppies still follow, their mangled corpses dragging themselves along the ground with their silvery ghosts following above, no longer wagging their cute little tails, following as though dragged by some invisible collar, bound to the PCs by their unjust deaths.
(I portrayed Merrix as an evil puppy-kicker in my campaign, so that's where I got the puppy-cruelty idea.)
The puppies! How could you hurt the puppies!
Anyway, I have a few more ideas.
667. the PCs come across a black pond of perfectly still water. No matter how hard the wind blows the water remains perfectly still. the whole place just feels evil and reacts to Detect Evil. The ground three feet out from the edges of the pond is covered in rotted vegitation. Then they start seeing flashes of light that look like they might be spelling something but is really difficult to make out (DMs decision what the message is). The fog in the distance starts forming into a pair of evil, predatorial eyes. What happens when someone touches the water can be left to your imagination. (to be really evil you could have a PC be possed and touch it)
(inspired by an actual pond near where I live. All of this has happened at this pond, along with some other things that wouldn't fit into a world that doesn't have flashlights or 35mm cameras)
668. The party comes to a house in a state of horid disrepair. Four floors, each identical to the last.
what could happen:
1. door won't open for the biggest and strongest characters but the itty bitty halfling has no problem with it
2. all light sources are extinguished apoun entry
3. red eyes start peering out from dark corners, further investigation turns up nothing but some rather large dust bunnies (maybe they're animated dust bunnies of doom with big sharp pointy teeth!)
4. males with a cha of 16 or higher hear a soft and seductive singing, all other party members hear screams
5. when leaving, no one can close the door but once they are a good distance away they hear it creak and clank shut by itself
6. if the players look back they see glowing red eyes from the highest window. the people who heard the singing see a beautiful ghost woman instead
(also inspired by a local legened, read about it here: http://www.weirdnj.com/stories/_abandoned01.asp (sometimes I love being from Jersey))
that's it for now, maybe more later
670: It requires a will save to enter a forest...
671: A merchant wonders the land selling lanterns fueled by human fat.
672: The players awaken in a cave 2 miles from where they last camped, their travel logs show they have marked off 2 days and anything else that happen as if 2 days passed happens, but they have no recolection of these days...
These events are basic yet spooky.
674. A long column of priests in torn and bloody black robes walks along in procession. They hold their flails sideways in front of them, the heads swinging and dispensing smoke, like holy censures. Deep though their cowls may be, you can still see their faces enough to realize that each and every one of them stares at the world through bloody, torn, and empty eye sockets.
All of this has happened at this pond, along with some other things that wouldn't fit into a world that doesn't have flashlights or 35mm cameras)
what did the message spell out at the real pond
675. An area that appears untouched by the mourning, shining sun, lots of flowers, a beautiful, pleasent looking area. Maybe the PC's can hear battlecries on the wind or faint sounds of screams of terror and panic that are barely audible. Something that hints another terror is on the horizon.
(personally a nice place would scare me most, to really panic the PC's have NOTHING wrong with it. They'd probably run screaming!)
676) The PCs find a temple. None of the PCs see the same thing. One sees their old home church, another sees a rotting ruin. Another sees a grand and wonderful place. If they go inside they find a library. Inside the library are thousands upon thousands of books.If they read one they see that it is a strange story. If they continue reading they find that it is about their life. It tells everything. The day they were born and the feelings of their parents. The day they rode their first horse. The first time they killed someone and so on. When they leave the next time they fall asleep they dream their life from the beginning. The next day they dream more of it. This happens out of the mournlands as well. Make them feel bad about stealing that silver piece from mom and taking dad's horse from a ride around the farm.
what did the message spell out at the real pond
Never did get the guts to slow down the image on the video and read it myself.
679. laugh maniacly whenever the PCs do anything and grin constantly (this would scare the hell out of me)
680) Whenever the PCs say a certain word smile happily and make a tally on a piece of paper. Make it obvious that you're doing this. If they ask, look all inocent and ask, "What tallys? Oh! These tallys. I'm sure you'll know soon enough." They mean nothing, of course but if you use a common word, example, 'like', they might now say it. When you hardly hear the word anymore change the word. Ooh. Creepy.
682. Blood starts seeping out of the plating of any and all warforged the party encounters.
683. A Valenar elf can see the faces of his ancestors in his blade--and they are not happy.
684. All members of the party lose the ability to dream...except for Elves and Kalashtar, who gain it.
685. All members of the party have the exact same dreams, and are capable of interacting with each other within them.
686. While badly wounded, the party encounters a large bush, heavy with goodberries. However, after eating them, they discover the red liquid running down their mouth isn't goodberry juice, but blood.
687. While wandering alone in the Mournlands, one of the party members encounters a beautiful women. He is enchanted by her beauty, and quickly succumbs to her embrace. When he awakes, he finds nothing beside him but a set of bones, disturbingly reminiscient of his own mother's.
688. Party members begin vomiting out butterflies, multicolored frogs, and floating goldfish whenever they fail a Will save.
689. Any changelings in the party begin taking on eerily disturbing forms while asleep or unconscious.
690) The party is traveling along in the mournlands. They see a young man sitting on a large boulder, staring out into the distance. If they approach him he stares at them until they speak. When they do he gets to his feet and starts walking towards him. The boulder moves as if he is balancing and walking on it. It seems as though he is trying to crush them but a sense motive check of DC 20 will show that he is trying to get close to him. Any means of communication fail unless someone uses telepathy. He will tell the party that he is partially deaf and keeps trying to get close enough to hear people properly but the boulder stays under him. He keeps crushing the people and can't get off of the boulder. He requests that they find a very rare plant to heal him and stuffs. Good plot maker or side quest. He will reward them well if they bring it to them but of course he could be an evil person. *Shrug* Have fun.
691) Before the PC's enters the Morunland, ask them to record all the magic items they bring along, and give you a copy. When they leave again, ask them to record everything they found inside and bring out from the wasteland.. and give you a copy.
On both occasions, proceed to roll dice furiously, while jotting down a lot of stuff, all the while smiling grimly, and mumbling "Oh Dear.. oh dear oh dear oh dear. This isn't good!".
If they ask what is wrong, just smile brightly and tell them that all will be revealed in due time.
If you actually want to act on any of these metagaming threats, just find some nice curses to pepper the objects with. The magic of the Mournalnd isn't really that healthy :D
692) While passing a partially ruined farmstead the PCs spot an old woman who looks as though she has fallen asleep sitting slumped on a stone bench by the road near the house. She is dressed in plain clothing of earthen tones except for a red and yellow checked headscarf which is drapped loosely over her head. She is of course dead and like the other bodies that they've seen recently the body is in fine condition. Her flesh is cool to the touch, dry and rigid with death. Regardless of whether she's touched or not as the players move near she slumps to her side on the stone bench, one arm falling to dangle so as to just be touching the ground. From her loosely clawed hand a lock of hair tied with a tiny red ribbon falls to the ground. Nothing else of note happens here.
When the PCs make camp or stop for any amount of time after their next encounter, whoever is on watch hears a single dragging sound and then a thump from behind any nearby brush, mound, wreckage, etc. If they investigate they see the body of an old woman with a red and yellow checked headscarf drapped over her head where she lies face down in the mud/dust. Now, everytime the body is unobserved it changes position slightly without making any sound. Each time it moves it always ends up with a single glazed eye peering at the party from behind her headscarf.
If the PCs move camp or travel she always appears again, initially arriving with only a single drag and thump behind cover or otherwise out of sight. You could even have her appear amidst the sleeping party members while the watch is looking out into the night/wastes for approaching danger.
...Make them feel bad about stealing that silver piece from mom and taking dad's house from a ride around the farm.
Working with a theme here...
693. The PCs encounter a village, filled with the Unrotting Dead of the Mournland, as usual. As they walk the deserted streets, the hear the shuffling and sliding of stone against stone coming from behind them. When they turn around to look for the source of the noise, the buildings on the street have all changed places.
694. On an abandoned farm deep within what used to be the heartland of Cyre, the PCs find something truly shocking: the farmhouse has gained an intelligence and mobility all its own. Whether this is a benevolent being dedicated to sheltering those who come to it or a malign entity who seeks to draw in victims is entirely up to the DM.
Now someone just needs to stat out an animated farmhouse and we'll be set.
A meadow filled with small timid animals rests at the center of a withered dead forest. There's nothing evil about the meadow to the pcs but the animals all seem extremly frightened and instantly burst into flames if forced out of the meadow. If anyone were to eat an animal from this meadow and then leave they would instantly become fatigued until they eat again.
696: A spire of writhering bones and half-rotted courpses rises from the scoarched land, anyone who approaches within a mile becomes inflicted with a charm spell (Will DC 30 is not mind effecting) that forces them to approach in a dazed stuppor. Once they have come within 10 feet 1d10 skeletons fall from the spire and attack. These Skeletons count as HD 50 undead for turning and will always deal a non-leathel blow to knock their opponent off concsious instead of killing. Once unconscios the skeletons will summon 1d10 more undead to drag the still living bodys back to the spire where undead hands reach out and lift the players up the side to a small recess where the players are absorbed into the tower. The spire contains 1d10*5 undead and is a HD100 Zombie for turning checks.
698. One of the PCs, or an NPC travelling with them, conceives while in the Mournlands. The child is born unnaturally quickly, and when it is delivered, it is stillborn...and zombified.
696: A spire of writhering bones and half-rotted courpses rises from the scoarched land, anyone who approaches within a mile becomes inflicted with a charm spell (Will DC 30 is not mind effecting) that forces them to approach in a dazed stuppor. Once they have come within 10 feet 1d10 skeletons fall from the spire and attack. These Skeletons count as HD 50 undead for turning and will always deal a non-leathel blow to knock their opponent off concsious instead of killing. Once unconscios the skeletons will summon 1d10 more undead to drag the still living bodys back to the spire where undead hands reach out and lift the players up the side to a small recess where the players are absorbed into the tower. The spire contains 1d10*5 undead and is a HD100 Zombie for turning checks.
...50 HD undead? 100 HD undead? DC 30 will save for a charm effect that is somehow NOT mind-affecting? yeah. TPK town, thanks for playing. Seriously, why would you do that? It's not scary. It reeks of DM control and wish to kill players. Especially the disgusting DC on the will save and it, some-frikkin-how, not being mind-affecting really stinks.
700) The PCs see a town that looks normal. People are walking around, life goes on as normal. They walk in and people ignore them as if having adventureres walk into the town was normal. The item shop is just down the street. The PCs walk in. A fussy old man at the counter looks up and says, "Oh thank goodness. I've been waiting for you for ages. Hurry up, into the back." He leads them into the back room. It's a jumble of items. He looks around and says, "You can have one hundred gold worth of stuff if as your payment and I need you to stack the rest up neatly." DC 20 will save not to go into the back room. If the PCs go, they find that the room goes back further than expected. After a few hours they start to get tired but they can't stop. They keep stacking boxes and cleaning floors. If a PC looks back at the doorway they see that the door has gone. There are no windows.
Note that one of the PCs has to make it. They argue with the rest of the group, knowing it's a bad idea. When the others don't come out for a few hours they should go back and argue with the store keeper. The keeper will give the PC a scroll with the counter spell on it to free the others. But only if they will clean the shop. You can keep some of the stuff if you'd like...
This is just an idea to see how the PCs will react in certain situations and stuff. Make them be sure to act like their alignment should have them act. It's just a group character study. *shrug*
702: One day, while exploring the mournlands, the PCs come upon a field, ringed in a circle of "Silver" that cannot be removed from the ground, that has patches of green grass with a single yellow flower growing from the center. If the flower is plucked, the grass withers and the PCs see how a person died, through that person's eyes. If the PCs stay until dusk, then the patches of grass begin to animate as zombies that will chase and attack the PCs the entire night. The only safe haven is either beyond the edges of the field (as denoted by the ring of "silver") or a rock formation in the center, also surrounded by "Silver". In the morning, if the zombies are within sight, the PCs see them lie down and sprout green grass and a single yellow flower.
703: The PC finds an empty town that has flowers sprouting from many odd places. If PC picks any flowers that are growing in the Mournlands, the flower screams. Each scream is a different voice, sometimes in a different language.
704: The PCs shadows all extend in the wrong direction. Thier shadows all extend toward any light source. At noon their shadows are long and stretched and at dawn and dusk their shadows are short.
705: The PCs find a house that is built with various rooms upside down or sideways. Walkways suddenly turn up onto walls and down over precipices. If the PCs walk normally on these sections, they find that they can walk upon certain walls and ceilings as if they were floors.
706: (Variant of 705) The PCs enter a house that seems to be built upside down. Chandeliers hang from the floor and tables stay upon the ceiling. A man's hanged corpse hangs "Up" from the floor in one room and his family lies on the "Ceiling" in another. Within his hands is a suicide note, begging the gods forgiveness for his transgressions.)
707: The PCs are directed by a stranger (or clues) to a mansion that contains the laboratory of a once great wizard and a supposed easy exit from the mournlands. Within the lab, most items are mundane, there are few traps and it is generally safe to walk around. Outside of a plain wooden door that radiates no magic, there is a man raving about how he has "Seen too much, the truth was not something we were meant to know." Listening too him also garners the information that part of the key to his portal to sharn lies within the room that drove him crazy.
If the PCs walk into the room and find a group of people clad in the strangest clothes they have ever seen, gathered around a table playing a game with dice and paper. There is one strangely clad person for each PC plus one extra. When the PCs do anything within the room, the strangely clad people describe what they are doing, as if narrating a character's actions in a game. If the PCs examine the papers that the people are holding, they find that each paper corresponds to a member of the party, and the extra person has sheets that correspond to any NPCs or monsters recently encountered. If the PCs try to touch any of the people at the table, they find that they are solid, but take no heed of the PCs and any item touched is generally unaffected by a PCs touch. If a PC damages one of the sheets, then the character that corresponds to that sheet takes damage. Just touching a sheet causes the corresponding PC to feel a touch. While all this happens the strange people are still narrating the PCs actions. No magic will affect these strange people, not even dispel magic or Anti magic field. True seeing changes nothing about the room or the strange people when used. The "Key" to the portal lies in the center of the table and is completely ignored by the strange people. If the PCs leave the room and try to return, the doorway to the room stays. Ever after leaving questions in the character's minds about whether the word is real . ;)
708: The PCs enter a field that is normal, except for the constant sound of a heartbeat. If the PCs lay down to sleep the heartbeat sounds louder when they lay their heads down. If the PCs seek out the "Source" of the heartbeat, digging reveals flesh just below the surface. Within the field is a cave that turns out to be the maw of a great creature bound to the earth by the mourning. The PCs can proceed inside, finding the inner areas match the lungs/stomach of a living creature. There is a warforged and an old man living within this grisly "cave" The old man has been surviving by carving out pieces of flesh from the walls and is raving mad. The warforged guards the old man from the PCs. If approached in a friendly manner, the warforged explains that the old man created him so he guards the old man from hostile threats. Some of the old man's ravings and writings make sense if examined, they explain how the flesh cave is actually a duplicate of the old man, and the old man feels everything that happens inside.
709: An emaciated troll sits on the side of the road, eating his own flesh. He takes no notice of the PCs even if harmed, only muttering to himself about "Ghosts and Haunts passing by"
710: The PCs meet a seemingly sane man that offers each PC a statue of himself/herself. These statues are free and very finely made. Afterwards, the PCs finds a town in which everybody is holding and guarding a small statue of themself. If an statue is dropped or "damaged", the corresponding townsman is hurt and the statue remains intact. Make whole can restore a broken townsman (or PC.) but the restored townsman is panicked and runs from the party, traumatised.
711: A voice is heard yelling "FORE" and an eyeball strikes one of the PCs. A zombie with a golf club can be seen in the distance. If approached, it's found that he has removed the eyes from a nearby field of dead bodies. The bodies can be heard begging for mercy, asking for their eyes not to be the next pair struck. The zombie never pays attention to the party. Killing the zombie does nothing. Another body rises, finds it's eyes, and takes up the golf club.
712) As the PCs walk along they see that sheir shadows seem to be clawing to get out of the ground or attack the other PCs. If the shadows attack another PC's shadow that person instantly feels irritant with the other. If it continues then they might have a big fight but just keep in mind that it incourages PvP. After a few hours of the shadows acting normaly they begin to act up again. They run ahead and make the PCs fill ill as if they were missing an important part of themselves. One shadow starts to juggle. All at once the PC scoops up three balls and starts juggling. No perform check involved. It's excellent juggling but looking closer the PCs realize that the other is juggling eyeballs or brains...
We doo seem to like eyeballs and brains, don't we? Hm.
713. When the PCs eat, food turns to something vile in their mouth. Or ash, or leaves them feeling thirstier even if they don't truly need it. Or it feels like spiderwebs.
714. A PC goes to pick up an item and their shirt sleeve flutters and flaps, almost as though pulling away in an effort to stop them from grabbing it....
715. The PCs each wake up in a shallowly dug square pit, perhaps 2 feet deep, with their hands crossed on their chests and a small bouquet of white lillies resting on their hands.
717. A warforged disovers that, when cut, he bleeds out real blood...or a organic discovers that, when cut, he doesn't.
718. The bond of blood linking master with homunculus is reversed...and the homunculi are eager to pay back for their slavery.
719. A warforged's ghulra takes on the shape of a different glyph, a rune from a language best not spoken.
720. PCs find parts of their bodies replaced with inorganic material...ice, rust, marble, etc.
Identifing the food shows the bread is made of ground giant bone, meat is elf, wine is dwarf blood, and the cups are obviously orc bone. Though you ate it before you knew what it was so why not have some more
There’s nothing of value in the cart. If the PCs pull back the tarp, they discover the contents of a poor farmer’s household—and two dead children, their faces blotted with blood and gore from where their eyes burst out of their heads. Some coils of hemp rope, chests of clothing, some cooking gear, oats, and food and water (spoiled if it’s eaten) are all that’s on the cart. The family was heading toward the safety of Kalazart when the Mourning occurred.
Have the party roll a Listen check to hear the flittering of wings in the air above them. Anyone who succeeds looks up to see a human head, its ears grown abnormally large and beating the air like wings, flying out of the gray gloom. A moist spinal-column trails behind it like a tail. It opens its distended mouth and emits a terrible shriek. The shriek muffles (Listen DC 20) the cracking sound made by the sudden detachment of the women’s head from her body, spinal column and all.
In the case of this encounter, it’s BETTER to fail your Listen check since all within 60 ft who can clearly see the creature and hear the shriek must succeed on a Fortitude save or be paralyzed with fear. Those failing their save are susceptible to the creature’s kiss. The vargouille will be especially interested in attacking anyone who messes with the cart or the children....
724) They enter into their houses. One finds his parents' skin without the bones or anything inside lying on the floor, faces masks of horror. Another finds their family dead with a message written on the wall in their own blood. Another's parents have their bodies filled with bugs. The rest of the village was trapped in the church and burned alive. *shrug* We had this happen in a campaign. I was the second one. So sad...
726: The first mirror the PCs look into makes them look like a corpse. And the corpse steps out of the mirror to attack them. When slain, (whether an easy task or a hard task), the corpse says: "You fool, you'll be me in no time at all."
727: One (Or more) of the PCs family members have come back as zombies/vampires. (This is probably a repeat.)
728: Creatures the PCs fight bleed the wrong color and the blood burns/freezes/is acidic/electrifies the pcs when spilled. (Like the Legendary Animal ability.)
Speaking to the boy results in him looking up at the pcs with dull lifeless eyes of gray mostly hidden by his gray hair. "Humph, so the dreams turned troubled again did they? The old man here's been dreaming alot about that god forsaken land... Let's just pray he dosn't wake up though shall we? Most of the mourners go on that way" He points to a vortex like portal in the mists "Though you people don't belong there yet, now get going those undead are gone." With that the PCs awaken back at their last campsite and time has set back as though they had never done anything that day... Was it a dream induced by the mournland... Or something more?
And you know what? I just bet you that some PC's would be brave enough *coughstupidcough* to follow them to either their start or end, so heres some ideas for wha they'll find:
Exlanation1: An open grave. The headstone is blank and dead flowers are littered all over the ground. At the bottom a casket stands. It looks like someone clawed their way out. The wooden lid is splintered and there is blood on the splinters around the hole in the lid.
If they follow to the end they could find one of two things. Depends on wether you want a fighting encounter or something else:
1: A childsized ghoul with bloody hands and feet. The blood will stick to those she touches, and will permanently stain the skin a dull brownish red. Like dried blood.
2: A small child, age 9, huddeling in fear. Shes been successfully hiding in an hollow tree and eating from the dead corpses around her, drinking their blood in lack of water, to survive. There is nothing wrong with her. It appears she was mistankenly being buried alive, (she suffered from a paralysing fever), and just as the priest blessed her body in the grave, the mist rolled over the graveyard. Everyone died, but something protected her. The blessing of the priest? Maybe the Keepers sees her as his own? Maybe there is "something" under the casket that kept her safe?
And what will happend to her now? The life of hiding, watching horrors pass by, and eating the dead can have been good for her sanity.
Explanation2: A field of Razorsharp grass. Looks like a party of adventurer was running from something, (flying horror of some kind), when they encountered this field. The only one able to ignore the pain when the grass slit through boots and feet was a (halfling or gnome) who kept running and survived the horror. If they follow to the end they will find her. Slowly bleeding to death from torn feet. She has been staggering around for hours, trying to find someone, or something that will help her.
Been busy in a couple of my own threads, but sometimes I get new ideas.And you're not worst yerself :P
Oohkay.. this was an idea I had while waking up this morning. Yeah, I blatantly ripped it off, and I'll bet you can easily tell from where.
This little "thing" could be the base for a whole campaign, or it could just be a rather nasty surprise.
I've based it upon assumptions concerning the exact time of emergence for the race of shifters. If you have something else decided in your campaign, then either adjust it, or just ignore this.
726) "The Old Research Facility"
While traversing a deep wood in the Mournland, the PC's stumble upon an old abandoned Asylum. It looks like this place was shut down well before the time of the war, maybe even hundreds of years before that, (depending on when you decide the shifters emerged). On the day of Mourning this place was already locked down. But seemingly also heavily guarded judging by the obscene amount of dead guards littering the surrounding woods and the walls of the facility.
Why would anyone guard a dilapidated madhouse like this? And the outer battlements is built to keep people.. not in?!
If they enter they will discover a horrific secret. The asylum was never that. It was a facadé. A cover for research of the worst kind. In here House Vadalis and House Cannith tinkered with humans and animals, trying to play god, (yeah.. it had to come. The human race does this in real life, why not in Eberron?). These experiment predate the research on warforged, and as such it would seem that whatever emerged from the tinkering was discarded in favour of something more easily controlled. Like the wf.
They will find huge halls filled with cages marked with numbers. They will see old boxes locking in ledgers with secret materiel never meant to be rediscovored. They will find old logbooks detailing bloodcurdling and obscene experiments being done in the name of "science". Think Doctor Mengele here. Think old old asylums and Tzimiche scientists, (you who play V:tM).
In the coutyard they will discover rovs of unmarked graves. Hundres of them. If they dig they will find old crumbling skeletons of horrific creatures, half man and half animal. Twisted pathetic remains of children and adults.
In the end they will discover the journal of the proprietors. The two house scions who conducted these evil acts on behalf of the throne. And they will know that shifters never decended from werewolfs as their legends tell. They come from far more humiliating and horrific means. They are escaped experiments. Beastmen made for war. Women and children twisted into beastial killing machines, then freed by either their own in a rebellion, or by some outer force, (you decide).
After the escape the place was shut down, never to be mentioned again. The shifters who escaped was thought deadm untill 50 years later when they started to emerge from the woods, telling proud tales of werewolf ancestors and how they escaped their evil heritage. The ones who knew never told the real tales. That would be too shamefull.. for both sides.
Knowing this will probably inflame any shifters in the group.
You could do this with changelings too.. and in the same facility. Chameleons could be the base for changelings, or maybe they really bred with dopplegangers, summoned for the same purpose, then allowed to eat their mates afterwards as a reward for cooperation?
or was that some other creature?
Anyway, I'm sure they could have some other fun, then
Got them mixed up.
not scary?
then how 'bout....
727) A zombie that only wants to lick the living.
728. A small village populated entirely by dolls and marionettes, with disembodied voices coming from the air when they talk, but not exactly in sync with the motion of their mouths. If they see PCs, they rush them and try to "help" them, dragging them forcefully. The puppets are all horrified that such a terrible accident could have left the PCs without their strings.
729. They are travelling with any NPC introduced in the Mournlands when a storm rises up. In each flash of lightning (spot checks), the NPC's face is seen differently in horrifying ways. A hideous fanged monster with teeth so large that they skew all over the place (think Angler Fish), a smashed and mutilated face with glowing green pinpoints for eyes, etc. Of course, this is in a dark grey, rainy and windy atmosphere with the desolate wind howling through your armor as though the very world around you were screaming in terror.
730. A PC's helmet opens its faceplate to let out an agonized scream (imagine how the PC would freak out at that).
And I was inspired partly by "Doctor Moreaus Island", (spelling?), and that scene in "alien 4" where ripley finds her discarded "other selfs".. the ones that didn't work out.
731) The PCs enter a cave/ruins while trying to escape a rain of blood that leeches their life away. Fort DC20 every round or take 1 Con damage (temporary).
732) In the cave/ruins, they find a large chamber filled with halfling-sized, fleshy, egg-shaped objects covered by a light mist. Through an open doorway across the room from them, they hear a horrible screeching noise. They are in fact eggs and hatch when the PCs approach within 10 feet (the top splits open in a shameless rippoff of the Alien movies). Out the hatching eggs come small monstrous spider like creatures with stinging tails in place of bite attacks. They sting the PCs until they are unconscious then wrap themselves around the PCs faces.
When the PCs wake up, the storm is passed, and they are very hungry. After an hour of gorging themselves, a dark chitinous monster explodes from the chest of whoever the face huggers got to. (shameless rippoff I know, but the Mournlands are perfect for this) It grows rapidly and has the augmented stats of the player it emerged from. If the PCs manage to enter that room with the screeching, they see big-mama laying her eggs....and she kills them.
Sharn is also a great place to do this with your party.
726) A pack of mindflayer zombies that eat only brains....that are already dead! ooh, scary.
not scary?
then how 'bout....
727) A zombie that only wants to lick the living.
How about a zombie lawyer? That should scare them!
733) On Hearts Day an old and tattered loveletter arrives for the PC. It's from an long lost love or female friend who lived in Cyre, and died in the Mourning. Somehow this letter has reached the recipient now. Years after it was sent. Or was is sent recently somehow?
This could be an incentive for the players to actually GO to the Mournland. To discover if the soul of a loved one is somehow trapped in the horrid wasteland, and is trying to reach the love she once knew.
Since at the moment I'm sick I figured this one would be fitting.
735) One of the PCs falls ill. Any kind of healing will not work on them and they develop a bad chest cough, stuffy nose, headace, etc. After a while they become unable to keep traveling and must rest for 1d6 days. After that time they feel much better but while they are sleeping the illness off they have strange dreams of the other party members. One night they dream that the wizard had actually placed the illness on them. The next night it was the paladin. The fighter is just trying to have a smaller group and will continue to poison the rations. Perhaps the rouge is just trying to get their nice stuff. One party member is not in the dreams. When the PC wakes up he has an urge to tell the one that he did not dream about. When that PC hears it he sleeps and dreams that the PC that was sick is just trying to make him suspicious(sp?) and so on. He tells someone else. Pretty soon the party starts to fall apart. See what happens when they realize that. Should be fun, eh?
I promise i'll get back on topic tomarrow.
736) The party lights a campfire that shed bright green light and smells of brine. All candles, torches, and open flames cast green light only. This alien nature of the fire acts as a beacon for beholders.
737) A character engulfed by a living spell slowly transforms into one over the course of the next few days in an agonizing process in which one’s physical form loses cohesion and the ambient arcane energy mutates the character. How many of the Mournland’s living spells are innocent victims transformed by the curse?
A DM should make the spread of the curse gradual, so as to allow for a cure to be found. Once the transformation is complete, though, only a miracle or wish can reverse it.
738) The ghost of Queen Diani holds court in Metrol on her birthday, where she traditionally grants one boon to a worthy Cyran. Who dares to ask a favor from the Queen of Damned and to what dark purpose might she twist the words of the supplicant?
739) Unless the crew offers a humanoid sacrifice to the Devourer, Lake Arul's water boils when a ship crosses it, destroying any vessal smaller than galleon. Once the ship is destroyed, scalded hands belonging to those already taken by the Lake thrust up through the surface of the water and pull below any survivors clinging to a plank.
740) Smoke lit from a campfire in the Mournland turns to an inhaled poison (FORT DC 15 1d6 strength/Unconciousness for 1d12 hours). Think of the horrible things that could befall an entire party that succumbs to the sleeping smoke.
742) The PCs start a fire. It gets up and comes after them.
734) While passing through the mournlands the pcs meet a man in full plate body armour. He is quite healthy and kind. He is also very strong (2 levels higher than the PCs, all warrior) he decides to travel with the pcs and helps them through several generic fights with zombies. He seems normal until a battle with a particularly strong undead... The undead uses it's slam attack and knocks the strangers helmet off... Instead of a head blood comes gushering out of the plate body. The body falls limp and the armour seperates. Inside there is no body.. Only blood... Pints upon Pints of blood. The armour is stained inside.
That one is going in my next Mournland adventure... well alot of them will but this one for sure.
Holy crap, this an amazing thread, I only read the first 5 pages and the alst 3 but man they gave me the creeps... does anyone have a complete compilation on a word document or adobe document or somesuch?
I'm definitely using alot of this stuff... and theres so much that I can use it over several trips for several campaigns... this is going to really give my players a feeling of despair and let them know what horrors can happen in the Mournland.
The reason for the inaccuracy is that I suvscribe to this thread and often copy/paste the entry few seconds after it's been posted, (if I'm there, and it's a good day). But people sometimes edit their entries some time after posting, and I don't always catch this.
Also, at one point I gave up trying to sort out numbering.. there was some mistakes in it and I tried sorting it out, but eventually just gave up and numbered as in the posts.
I'll be happy to share this word document, (with the original spelling of the posts as a bonus), with anyone. Just pm me your mail adress and I'll send it as soon as I'm able.
744: PCs light a fire and it gets colder and darker around the fire.
745: PCs find an empty town that has shadows seemingly burned into the ground/walls. Whenever the PCs near a shadow listen checks let them hear sobbing/screams/maniacal laughter. If a PC dies somehow within the town, his shadow ends up burned into the ground as well.
746: Female PC wakes up pregnant. The next time she goes to sleep, she isn't pregnant anymore when she wakes up. Over the next few days, the PCs notice something watching them in the night. Then, the party is attacked by a monster that calls the female PC "Mommy" And begs her for protection/love.
747: Even if the PCs manage to heal their wounds while still in the mournland, the wounds stay upon their body. Upon leaving the mournland, the PCs must heal a number of hit points equal to the damage taken in the mournland for the wounds to disappear. (They don't have to be hurt again, they just have to "Heal" naturally or by magic to be rid of the wounds.)
748: The moon appears as an eye and the sun appears as a black void even though it still emits the normal light.
749: PCs meet a young girl who is seemingly unharmed by the mourning. She asks for help getting back to her town. When the PCs find the town, it seems to have been unaffected by the mourning as well. Odd thing is, the longer the PCs stay, the more they notice that no one goes into the chapel and the townsfolk steer the PCs away from the Chapel. If the party sneaks into the chapel, they find the bodies of all of the townsfolk in the pews, the preacher the only one there, hugging his own body ranting about how the gods have abandoned him and his flock. When the party tries to leave, the way is barred by the townsfolk, who are now up in arms, revealed as necrotic shadows of their former selves. And now the PCs have to find a way to leave the town. Or perhaps a way to destroy it.
750: Few monsters are found walking around and those that are found run pretty quickly. But shadowy tears appear in the air and the sky to release dark and foul monsters into the land. These monsters don't always attack the party, oftentimes they fly/run in other directions to unknown places. Sometimes they can be seem reentering a rift and leaving the world. The party members are injured or merely thrown back if they try to enter the rifts, but sometimes bodies are carried into the rifts.
751: A mysterious stranger forms out of a cloud of dust and ash and offers guidance to the party. If the party senses his motive, they find that he has an ulterior motive to guiding the party. That he wants to lead the party to safety is true. But the party has no way of knowing what kind of safety he offers.
752: A party member wakes up to find that he is literally just skin and bones. No flesh remains on his body. Other party members begin to suffer similar afflictions.
754) For one week all of the PC's food dissapears. It's actually still there but they can't see it. The water is 'gone' as well.
755) Half of the party compleately dissapears from the other half. The 'invisible' ones can all see each other and the visible ones can all see eachother but neither group can see the other.
756) (I got this from the Sorcer's Nephew in the Narnia books.) They PCs enter a church that has lots and lots and lots of wax life size figures. The ones closest to the door are handsome and kind looking. They steadily get crueler but no less beautiful towards the back. The PCs can see a gong that stands at the back wall. On it is inscribed, in the player's racial language, "Ring the gong and suffer the consiquences, or go mad wondering what would have happened." If the PCs ring the gong the last figure comes to life and follows them everywhere, always getting them into trouble, talking loudly when silence is needed, wandering away and getting lost and demanding they come and rescue her, hogging the rations but make sure they don't grow fat. Perhaps one of the PCs likes her. *shrug*
If they don't ring the gong have them think about all of the statues all of the time. Conversations are short and broken, meals often missed, unconsentraited in battle. Stuff like that.
Really spooks players and myself.
When the party awakens the next morning everything is quiet and shrouded in gray mist. The room the party is in seems much colder then it was the night before, the windows are broken and the town seems to have been abandoned years ago if viewed from the window. As the party decends the stairs they see the remains of yesterday's feast. Kegs of ale the party drank from are partly filled with mouldy liquid, a fat man with pieces carved out where the roast pig was, babies with pieces missing where the chickens were during the feast. Dead bodies, not decayed, sitting in the places that other patrons had been sitting. Dust covers almost everything, disturbed only where the party members had been.
In addition, if the party wants to buy something from a store when the town is alive, let them. When they leave or awaken the items are decayed slightly, but possibly still usable, food is rotten of course, but ropes and arrows are fine, just a few years old.
If any member of the party was from Cyre, and had served in the military, let this be thier home town. One of the grieving women could be the girlfriend of the party member, with his child, saddened that he was sent elsewhere and could not return. One of the babies that was partly eaten could be that child.
If you use this, make that member of the party see the town as dead when they enter, watching his party members conversing with nothing, buying from dead shopkeepers, partying in the inn amidst the dead, eating the flesh of the dead, etc. The town's folk do not see or hear this party member, and this party member watches quietly, maybe stating once or twice that everyone must be going nuts, or that they are about to eat a baby drumstick.
Should the party simply eat, buy supplies, and leave town the one who saw the bodies rather then living towns folk should mention that everyone was dead, and the party ate dead people, once the mists close about the party again. Going back will reveal dead shopkeepers with the party's cash still in his outstreatched hand, partly eaten boddies, etc.
757. As the party nears a town the mist seems to fade away. The people of the town are prepairing a celebration to honor a Cyrian army unit returning from nearly a year of fighting. Everyone is happy and lively, working on making sure the party goes well. The party is invited to take part in the celebration, offers of free food and drink, a room in the inn, etc. Within half an hour of the party entering town a cry goes up from the bell tower in the chapel, the 524th Cyrian Regulars are in sight and will reach the edge of town soon. The entire town lines the main street, showering the returning unit with flowers and guiding them to the inn where a great feast has been laid out. In the inn the party will see a large table with two roast pigs, a few chickens and other foods, also there are at least 30 large kegs of ale (50 gallon kegs) one of which has been tapped, it's all server yourself and free to celebrate the return. As the party goes on most of the ale will be consumed, and all of the food, during this time a few young women cradling babies will be sitting to the side crying softly for thier lost men. Sometime near midnight people start passing out, a pair of fat men lie down on the tables that used to hold the pigs, and other patrons fall asleep in thier chairs, the party is told to use one of the rooms upstairs, most of the rooms are occupied but one large room is empty and waiting for the party.
When the party awakens the next morning everything is quiet and shrouded in gray mist. The room the party is in seems much colder then it was the night before, the windows are broken and the town seems to have been abandoned years ago if viewed from the window. As the party decends the stairs they see the remains of yesterday's feast. Kegs of ale the party drank from are partly filled with mouldy liquid, a fat man with pieces carved out where the roast pig was, babies with pieces missing where the chickens were during the feast. Dead bodies, not decayed, sitting in the places that other patrons had been sitting. Dust covers almost everything, disturbed only where the party members had been.
In addition, if the party wants to buy something from a store when the town is alive, let them. When they leave or awaken the items are decayed slightly, but possibly still usable, food is rotten of course, but ropes and arrows are fine, just a few years old.
If any member of the party was from Cyre, and had served in the military, let this be thier home town. One of the grieving women could be the girlfriend of the party member, with his child, saddened that he was sent elsewhere and could not return. One of the babies that was partly eaten could be that child.
If you use this, make that member of the party see the town as dead when they enter, watching his party members conversing with nothing, buying from dead shopkeepers, partying in the inn amidst the dead, eating the flesh of the dead, etc. The town's folk do not see or hear this party member, and this party member watches quietly, maybe stating once or twice that everyone must be going nuts, or that they are about to eat a baby drumstick.
Should the party simply eat, buy supplies, and leave town the one who saw the bodies rather then living towns folk should mention that everyone was dead, and the party ate dead people, once the mists close about the party again. Going back will reveal dead shopkeepers with the party's cash still in his outstreatched hand, partly eaten boddies, etc.
Pure evil *shudders*
139) A girl about 7 years old is playing in the road when the party approaches. She is horribly disfigured, emits a foul stench of brimestone, and sports a pair of cloven hooves for feet and a scoriion tail. She is excited to see the PC's and asks the PC with the highest CHA to come play with her. If they say they need to go, she offers to go with them. If they refuse, she looks depressed and asks if it's because she's ugly. She will follow the PC's if they leave. Any attempt to injure or attack the girl makes her wail "Why does everybody hate me? I just want to be friends!". The child begins to cry thick, black tears, which turn to black puddings upon hitting the ground and attack the party.
How is this a Bad thing, draw up stats on this girl cause a Polymorph spell, and she's no longer Ugly, Brimestone can't smell that bad.... Ring of Fresh Air, come on people She Grys things that can kill people, if she can control em good, if not at least you can kill the other person then run away and not have to deal with the bunch of Evil Killy things that just appeared and she has a Stinger, shes like the best NPC/ Child Assasin ever.... Train her to kill stuff!
As the party nears it's goal, or the edge of the mournlands if leaving, the warforged will carve the scene of the party's camp on the last night before the event. In the morning one member of the party will awaken within the composite plating and head of the warforged, similar to wearing the skin of it. The rest of the warforged is no-where to be seen, but the party will find the carving of themselves, faces twisted in agony, with dark forms strangling them in the night.
760. At night the Party hears whispers from thier past, forgotten voices, the voices of those they've betrayed or wronged calling out to them, they hear the voices of the damned whisper their fellow party members secrets to them in the long hours of the night, sometimes they feel the chill touch of somthing brushing against them. as each day wears on they get even more dispared and saddened by whisperes of the most horrible things they've witnessed, they also begin to get physicaly weakened by thier dispare .. as if somthings feeding off it ...
I'd like to have something similar to the scary little girl in F.E.A.R. :P
...During the night, he is awakened by a Knock on the door of his room, he sits up, "Yeah, come in" the door open and a figure walks in, its too dark to see because of the Grey mists blocking the moon, the figure walks over to his bed, "What, whats wrong, did something attack you guys at the....." the Clouds part and the Moonlight shows the Girl he loved just as she was, "Long time no see (PC's childhood Nickname) its been a while, Huh?" She walks over to the edge of the Bed, and he stands up and Hugs her, "I missed you so much, all those years I thoguht... I always regreted that I never told you I loved you..." she kisses him "Don't worry, I always knew"... They stay up late sitting together in the Den talking... He wakes up alone on the couch in the early morning glow just before Dawn, with the sound of her voice echoing in his mind "...will you come to my house tommorow..." he leaves, and notices her house is the only one with lights glowing through the window of her room on the second floor, he rushes into her house and up the stairs and opens her door... to find an empty room, filled with shimering dust motes and a sparkle of silver on the wall abover her bed, He finds a Silver necklace with a locket, on the inside is a picture of them standing together holding hands from when they where children, and he notices that there is a picture of him on the table next to her bed, with the words engraved around the framework "I Love (PC's childhood nickname/Pc's name)" and a next to it a Book that contains a love story, he opens to the book marked page, to find that there are smudges as if someone had been crying and their tears had fallen on the page, sometime later as he's leaveing her home he notices the painting from before except now the spot that looked empty is filled with the girl who has the most wonderful smile... The Party wakes up feeling Refreshed and comes downstairs to find the PC siting at the Bar downstairs with a a glass of wine, talking to thin air about old times, he stands up and puts two gold on the Bar.
As they come to the top of a Hill outside of town one of the PC's, asks how the PC whos town it is can be so calm about leaving "What do you mean?" he asks in response. "What do you mean, what do I me..." upon looking back to point at the town the others turn back to see why he stoped so abrubtly... and the Village is gone, as if it was never there...
[Memory Charm] - Can't be Removed,Can't be Damaged, +1 on attack and damage, +1 AC, +5 save vs. Fear, + to Spell DC, +1 on Fort, Ref, and Will saves. Not an actual Magic Item, its just a silver trinket with a heart shaped locket, that looks rather cheap. Upon closer examination it looks like its has thousands of tiny strands that sink into the skin of the owner, it dosn't swing or sway as a normal locket whould, strange, though it looks worthless it probbly has some kind sentamental value to someone. [only useable by (PC above)]
764: An old man sits on a stump whittleing some poorly made bobbles and nic'nacks. As the PCs pass him he calls out their names. None of the adventurers have ever met this man yet he speaks to them as if they were childhood freinds. At one point he mentions something that no one should no about one of the PC's. For example he'll say "Ho ho ho that was one fun night wasn't it? By the way did you ever return that coin you stole from your father?" while as far as he knows that persons father never found out about the coin. After awhile of this discussion the pcs may eventually say something like: "How do you know all this?" the man will then become enraged and jump from his stump and yell "So you've forgotten me just like you forgot x?" (x is someone the person who enraged him feels guilty about, for example if he wasn't able to save his girlfreind from a serial killer it'll be her name) he will then demand they leave his "house" and never return.
From then on as they pass through the mournland they'll catch short glimpses of the man out of the courner of their eye though when they try to investigate or look again they find no trace of him.
When they leave the mournlands and return to a safe place someone they trust will approach them with a crubled old package and tell them that a strange old man came to them the day they left and gave them this. Inside the package is the object the man on the stump was whittleing when they met... Completed.
766) The PCs cross a long hallway filled with windows. Through each they see a different scene. Vemishard burning, Mourners being slaughtered by Valenar, the last Lightning Rail racing against the mist. Some of the panes bear faces which curse, beg, or painfully scream at the PCs.
767)Wood, grass, and peat screams when ignited.
768) The fighter's arm begins to swell and ache. The net day it is hard to move and is covered in a coat of rust.
769)If the party rogue has slain an enemy strictly through use of Sneak Attack, a Phantom resembling that enemy rises to challange him/her to a "fair fight" and won't take no for an answer.
770)The Dwarves of Kalazart's Kundarak enclave have been Polymorphed into Neogi. Since the rest of the town died, leaving their valuables unguarded, they've been busy "stocking up", but are still greedy enough to attack the party for their gold should they decide to pass through.
774) Deep beneath the Cannith Citadel at Eston, a hideous half machine half-demon lies dormant. It is colossal, with the furred head of a Lion and steel cables for hair. An altar lies before it, and on the alter lies a Hammer of Thunderbolts. Does the Party dare...
775) Approaching the Dead-Grey Mist, the party sees it grow wispy hands that reach out and caress a character with high charisma and low hit points. A raspy voice of the opposite sex whispers mmmmmmmmm, so lovely, so frail, sleep in my fields and you will be beautiful until the end of time...
A constant rain of glass
A wandering group of talenta Halflings that have mutated into their dinosaur mounts seeking to devour what ever they come across.
A battalion of inert warforged laying in a battle field that is slowly being reanimated by either agents of the Lord of Blades or apparitions of artificers of house Cannith.
Another squad of warforged that was merged into a gigantic juggernaut that attacks anyone wearing the opposing armys colors and also tries to merg any war forged it sees.
Living siege engines
A battle cleric franticly trying to heal the dead on a battle field. If you are wounded and he sees you he tries to heal you. Your wounds appear healed but infact he cast an inflict spell on you. A true seeing spell shows a pile of ash where he stands
Aninamted armor and weapons that wont let you pass a certain spot. If you get past the armor tries to evacuate you.
A herd of gigantic mutated horses that graze on the glass plateau. When they see you they spook and stampede right at you
sentient pigs with human arms looking to rob any living person of their food.
787. The master-servant relationship between a mage and his familiar, a druid and his animal companion, or an artificer and his homunculus is reversed...and the new master is eager to get retribution for his long servitude.
788. Every thing a character eats turns to wet dirt in his mouth; everything he drinks turns to blood.
789. A druid begins to feel an insatiable craving to eat his animal companion.
790. Eerie, mournful voices come from all items the characters possess that utilize bound elementals.
791. The appearance of a character's dragonmark gradually changes into a deeply unsettling parody of what it once was.
792. Every time a character wakes up, he finds himself covered in a thick layer of dust.
793. A elf's skin tone becomes very dark over a long period of time, till his skin is black as a dark elf's. He may even become a dark elf.
794. Warforged ghosts, zombies, and other undead--all of which, technically, can't exist--attack the characters near a ruined forgehold.
795. A warforged discovers a strange docent component has been attached to him ever since he entered the Mournlands...and has been whispering terrible secrets to
him.
796. A character finds that his favored weapon has become home to a colony of extremly minute constructs, which have changed the weapon to suit their own enigmatic purposes.
797. The characters catch fleeting glimpses of a thirteenth moon up in the sky...and unspeakable horrors descending from it.
798. The characters encounter a strange creature, eating its own heart. It is quickly aggravated, and soon attacks. After being killed, careful examination reveals its body is completely hollow and organless--as are the corpses of anyone killed by the creature.
799. A warforged discovers that he can see the memories of his creator after encounter the forgehold that created him. The memories concerning his own creation are deeply disturbing.
800. The characters encounter an inexplicably fertile area of land, filled with fresh fruit-bearing trees and hearty, harvest-ready crops. Those who eat them find that, after leaving the area, they are overcome with nausea. Along with the fruit and vegetables, they notice fetuses, fingers, and other body parts in their vomit.
802. A party member wakes up hearing a voice identical to another party member describing in detail murdering the party and defiling their bodies. Said party member is asleep and their mouth is not moving.
803. Reflections look away.
804. Psionic powers with a visual component change the component from being shimmering ectoplasm to a thin layer of blood.
805. An illusionist cant shake the feeling, that when they're not looking directly at their silent/persistent image of a huminoid, that its staring right at them. The illusionist might even catch the illusion turning away.
806. Party discovers a dead mother and baby. Baby turns out to be not so dead, and a vampire which can run around and giggle.. and suckle.
807. When the party wakes after a nights sleep, one of the party members finds writing all over their body, even though they slep clothed. maybe too adult-
Show
(can be upgraded to being more 'mature' than just writing, perhaps shallow cuts)
As the party crosses a field filled with several scarecrows and petrified corn the scarcrows begin to stir and groan. Thier mouths rip open and their libs twist and stretch. Four scarecrows and one scarecrow with extra long limbs stride over to the party and begin to fight. They are all meduim constructs (exept the one with elongated limbs which is large) and should be a good challenge for the party. When the finally fall the party realizes that the scarecrows have something inside them... They all contain flayed humans (or perhaps normal if you perfer) the one with eloungated limbs has had its arms and legs stretched out by something and there are wood planks nailed to them to keep the limbs from breaking. Inside the farm house there is another flayed human with pants stuffed with hay...
810. A PC can see an eldritch aura around those fated to die soon--i.e., his fellow PCs. Looking into a mirror might not be a good idea...
811. The PCs can see strange shapes in their campfires...are they omens, or have the PCs become the prey of a malevolent fire elemental?
812. PCs begin feeling a strong, almost sexual, attraction to strange objects...blood-soaked blades, warforged corpses, perhaps even bones.
813. The PCs' personalities begin to swap...while their minds and memories remain basically the same, they exchange their idiosyncracies and personality traits.
814. All of the PCs begin to smell like blood...and the strangest thing is, they enjoy it.
815. Strangely shaped airships can be seen through the fog, crewed by a host of abominations.
816. The draconic heritage of sorcerer PCs surfaces in the form of a malevolent, reptilian split personality with a lust for the blood of the lesser races.
817. A kalashtar gains access to memories of its quori spirit, which reveal horrid abominations commited by the being Dal Quor.
819) PC dreams something very strange happens, but not to the party. Very important, that. The next morning, it happens. Strange enough as it is. That night he has another wierd dream that happens and another, and another. This goes on for a week or so until finally he dreams that he murders and defiles the entire party in their sleep on his watch. (or something similar.) The next night is his watch and somehow his weapon is sharpened. DC 10 will save not to start attacking the party members and I cn't remember what the save is to wake up but I'm sure that if the paladin has just hacked your arm off, you'd wake up. *shrug* Just guessing.
821) The PCs find that as they walk across a field their feet start sinking as though they are going down a sloping path. The only thing is that the groud stays level. They keep going deeper and deeper until only their heads are level with the ground including the gnome and half dragon. Everyone. Then it's a straight and easy path. If they walk for a little while longer a forest comes up. They start to walk in or get near but they are harassed by roots and perhaps a small underground stream gets their feet wet. It takes them perhaps an hour to get six feet. If only they could see where they're going. So what happens if they put their heads underground with the rest of their bodies?
That's where I keep waking up so I can't exactly say. Heh.
822: A little child's burnt skeleton is holding half of a burned doll. It's partially buried. Next to it, in the dirt is the child's last words, "HELP ME". This writing then follows the PC's though the mournland.
823: A house sivis message station with it's roof caved in. Nothing odd, just a chance for the players to sift through some of the lives that will no longer exist. They find stuff like a package with a little toy lightning rail (non-functional) with a birthday card, a grain report from the north saying how it was finally getting on track, college tuition being paid by kundarak bank note, that sort of thing.
824: A rain of tar, which doesn't burn the PC's but eventually sets around them if they stay in one place for too long.
825: A whole town perfectly preserved except that there are no people. However, there are soot-stains that outline the people where they died, doing what they did in life. These soot stains move around as though they were alive, in twisted parody of the person's life. Make them people the PC's know.
826: A smiling child is drawn in the dust, perfect down to the last wrinkle on the dress. Beside it is a doll house. There is a doll inside, which is shrunken human with buttons sewn on it's eyes and it's mouth sewn shut.
827: You enter a bedroom, clearly an old woman's room. The old woman's diary is open on the desk, with the quill writing non-sensical poetry in it. "the grapefuits rebelled, tolling in the distance. Summer's swell has crept though the hole in the fence." and similar. If the PC's close the journal or destroy the quill, they hear a dying gasp, and the quill falls to the floor. If they take the journal with them they can pinpoint what time the mourning happened, because the old lady was so precise when labeling her entries that she put the time she started. It's also clear that she's a slow writer. The penmanship gets shakier and shakier as the book gets closer to the present, but it is always dated metculously.
828: While their walking, the party spies what they think is a large rock off in the distance. If the go over and inspect it, it turns out to be a finger, accusing the sky for what happened to Cyre.
829: They come to an entire field of graves, but instead of grave markers, the person's favorite childhood toy looms over the buried body. In the distance you can hear children laughing. Over the next couple of days it turns into screams.
830: A living minor image spell haunts a graveyard, conjouring up images of the dead's past life.
831: Warforged warriors pick through a battlefield, and scrounge for anything that can be used. Occaisonally they find someone they all knew, a good friend, and react accodingly.
832: On a rocky plateau, a warforged scabbles at the hard, stoney ground. His friend died in the Mourning and wanted be buried where he fell. The warforged has been digging his grave for two years though almost solid granite. He has little to no fingers left as they've been worn away by the rock. The warforged is still fairly sane and will ask for the party's help in burying his fallen comrade.
833: A normal, innocuous rose grows in the middle of a mass grave. It's partially uncovered and appears as though a skeletal hand has burst through the dirt trying to hold the flower. Next time the PC's pass this way have hand actually grasping the bloom.
834: An entire military camp is almost perfectly preserved, the soldiers frozen in rigor mortis doing normal camp life. Two are laughing at a joke. One is lighting his pipe with a match long burned out. You can see a healing burn mark on his thumb. The general is taking a bath, now evaporated and leaving him covered in a hard layer of dried soap. One of the sentries is knocked over and has his guts ripped out all over the ground. He seems to be smiling at a thought long since passed. The wound is half healed already.
835: A caravan of halflings, quite a powerful group of rouges; illusionists; and fighters, travels on a road across the mournland. If the group travels with them they have some nice conversations and become good freinds. After some time the group tells them that they must turn back for a few days travel but they'll catch back up with them and they'll all meet at the city at the end of this road. They hear the city was set up in the mournlands after the mourning so adventurers could seek sancuary from the horrors. After a few days of traveling alone on the trail the pcs find a large cliff and at the bottom of this cliff are 3 crashed and broken (not to mention totally dead) caravans exactly identicle to the caravan they had just spoke with...
836: Similar to 835, a large battle rages in a feild. Any attempts to speak with the fighters is futile. The warriors get confused by the attempt to speak and attack the pc. At the end of the day everyone in the feild is dead... The next day they rise and fight again.
837: The sky changes color, slowly turning black and yellow. Then shapes from the PC's nightmare and fantasies appear as an aurora borealis effect in the sky.
838) One of the PCs develops an imagionary friend. No one else can see them but the PC carrys on and talks to them, hearing replies, laughing at jokes, talking about the other party members, talking about their past and future.
Going with the invisible thing
839) The Druid/Wizard or whatever finds that their familior is gone. Summoning them does nothing though they don't feel as though it is dead. The Wizard's raven sits in his regular place on his shoulder where all can see but the master. The Druid's wolf paces at their feet. Perhaps is tripped over. Everyone but the PC it belongs to can see it. Perhaps even the Halfling's dinosaur is invisible. If the creature dies a potion of greater invisibility appears. If someone drinks it they are invisible until they die or a level twenty or so spell is cast.
Kinda the same but different
840) The character finds a pair of gloves of greater invisibility. The more they use it it is a ten percent chance that they don't show back up. They, and all of their stuff, are invisible. FOREVER! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! Well, or until they get a spell to stop it. *shrug* Whatever. Oh, see invisibilty has a 50% chance of not working for both posts. It's a special kind of invisibility. It's a Morgan Invisibility. Heehee.
However, none of the rest of the party can see or hear them. The one player continues to see them and can interact with them (the family can see all of the party), but the rest of the party see only a house gutted by flame, food rotting on the table (which the one player might pick up to demonstrate is "real" food, and the party walks through the family as if they weren't there (which disturbs the family and they ask the player to tell his friends to stop that).
843) Any dragonmarked character feels a strong itch where his dragonmark is. When they look at it, it seems to have mutated into Elven/Dwarven/whatever language they understand and spells out a warning to beware of impending doom. It continues to work normally though. Once the warning is read, the dragonmark returns to normal. It does this twice more, giving the warnings "Leave this place, lest you be mourned forevermore" and "The moorings have been broken. I cannot control it. I can only hope that I will be mourned."
844) Like 843, some pre-mourning Cannith heir communicates with the hero using their dragonmarks. They extol the greatness of their discovery, but when asked where they are, they say "I'm at Whitehearth (I believe this is the Cannith facility?) with the rest of House Cannith, where else should I be?" He also mentions "the Last War should be over soon. House Cannith has developed a weapon that puts the Warforged to shame. Be sure to choose the right side when the time comes."
Of course, the last message received is similar to 843, "It's broken its moorings! I can't control it! Leave while you still can! Mourn for us, the first to die!"
843)The mourning ends. If the PC's are looting, the bodies wake up. If they are fighting abominations, the monster disappears. All is as normal. The PC's feel nothing and see nothing different.
There is no save, the PC's automatically travel back in time.
843a)The PC's are back to the day of the mourning. As 843, but they can prevent the disater from happening, possibly if the PC's fail let them start again. Only next time they come across their own bodies, where they where the day of the mourning.
843b)Possibly to the time the Silver Flame was created. As a plothook they can join up with the future voice and travel to defeat the demons in Thrane.
However if they do, they are forced into the final battle and must convince the paladin to leap (I know what it says in the book) however if they can't another paladin may. The voice now becomes the PC and vica versa. Once the PC does this the other PC's automatically travel forward back into the Mournland. How they traveled back is a mystery, even the mournland has trouble creating such an effect. More things had to have happened. (On a side note, the PC who is now the Silver Flame is actually the Great-yada-yada of the original one, if the PC's [and the new one] research it)
That night they dream of dancing. All of them have the same dream. During the day they all feel the urge to dance. If one of them decides to, even a small little jig, a few minutes later they see the same scene as the day before with all of the dancers in a burnt out building. They will more than likely stay away.
After a few days, the urge to dance leaves them but every few feet they see bits of burnt skin or cloth. Perhaps even a few burnt bones or a doll.
this is creepz0rthe most frightening are the ones that have no plot hooks ... they just are.
800. The characters encounter an inexplicably fertile area of land, filled with fresh fruit-bearing trees and hearty, harvest-ready crops. Those who eat them find that, after leaving the area, they are overcome with nausea. Along with the fruit and vegetables, they notice fetuses, fingers, and other body parts in their vomit.
Oh dude! It is 2am and I am scared stiff in frount of my computer. A 35yo blackbelt .... I have to get a new hobbie
the most frightening are the ones that have no plot hooks ... they just are.
Tch, I fully intend to be haunting forums when I'm 35. I do not believe I could stand it if I turned into so much of an adult to be "too good" for this game and all it's relations. Besides, we might actually reach 1001 by then. Good luck with the black belt'ing, friend.
845. Find some reason for the PCs to be climbing something, perhaps to escape a previous horror or to reach some important place or object. While they do so, they feel a slight straining in their hands or arms. As they watch, their skin stretches and splits, pulling apart as though unable to take the strain. This in itself would be horrifying enough, not to mention the pain of having to later clean so much blood from your clothing. But. But.... Where the skin pulls apart they can see nothing, as though they were just an empty skin. No blood pours out, no muscle twitches, no bone gleams in the sudden exposure. Just empty air as though their skin was but an empty suit of armor. (PCs take no damage, just a bit of scare.)
846. Alternately, in the same situation, the PCs could instead bleed profusely. Again, no damage is taken, but nothing can stem the steady flow of their life's blood from the horrible wound. They are not weakened and take no penalties for this, unless you count leaving a constant, clear trail through the nightmare landscape of the Mournlands pointing directly to where they are....
By the way, I'm not talking little cuts and things. The image to be painted here is of gaping holes that fingers can be pushed into. Similarly, no small trickle of blood will suffice for this land of nightmares. Imagine the disgust and horror painted on the players' faces as their fingers pulse forth blood with the steadyness and volume of a water fountain. Not arcing, that's a bit more comedic and straining of credibility, but the blood should flow thick and drip heavily from their torn fingertips.
847) The PCs are on their way through the mournlands. Nothing has happened for most of the day except for a few disturbing sights. Suddenly one of the PCs steps into a rabbit hole. His leg is broken and insanely painful. As the Cleric begins preparing their spell the wound suddenly heals. There is only a vague memory of the pain but the skin in unbroken, the bone is perfect and the muscles are fine. Everything works and not even a small limp is a reminder of what happened. Something like this happens throughout the rest of the day to each of the PCs.
The next day they find that sword wounds don't hurt. I don't know about you but I would experiment with it. The PCs keep traveling and finally stop. They see that they are standing on a hilltop. Below them are thousands upon thousands of undead. All of them are weilding bows or swords and wearing armor. None of them are really moving out of their places but just standing there, imapatient to be moving. The PCs really have to get to the otherside of this group but the undead army goes for miles in either direction. What to do? Will they go around or risk walking through with their new healing abilities?
(Note, if they do choose to go around the army will start moving as though making them go through all of them. Ooh. Creepy.)
Things always get disturbing around here when we start making blood related horrors
What can I say? I try. Actually, when I was climbing last tuesday I had blistered and torn my hands pretty badly, so I had help with this one.
Tumteetumtumtum, I'm loving 847.
b)target enlarges per the spell, but also becomes grossly overweight.
849) a) shrink person similarly only shrinks a single appendage- the flesh atrophies, withering the appendage, and also shrinking the appendage. bones break to accomodate the size.
b) target shrinks as the spell, but becomes mal-nourished and dangerously underweight.
Following the source of the music they eventually come upon the remains of what was once one of the grandest ballrooms in all of Cyre. The room is mostly dark as most of the magical light sources have failed or been damaged. The floor tiles are blackened and cracked and the fine darkwood paneling is rotted. Most of the chandeliers seem to be bent and twisted into new, disturbing shapes.
One end of the grand table is still brightly lit, and appears to be set with the remains of a huge meal. The food all looks perfectly edible; roasted chicken, fruit, cakes. Some of the food bears small child-sized bite marks, and there seems to be a faint trail of crumbs and left-overs leading off into the darker depths of the hall in the same direction as where the music is coming from.
Far away from the table, hidden in the darkness, the PCs will find the source of the music; a wind-up victrola with a golden horn and a dragonshard needle riding along the spiral groove of a golden disc. Sitting beside the victrola is a young girl, ten or twelve years old, wearing the tattered remnants of a fancy party dress. Her eyes are wide with fright and she reaches up periodically to wind the victrola. Her name is Eliesse.
If anyone tries to touch the victrola the little girl will start screaming in terror and raving something about, “They’ll come down if the music stops!” She will wildly resist any attempt to pull her away from the victrola by force.
If the PCs look up, they will see the source of her terror. Hanging unsupported in the air, fifteen feet above the ground, are six pairs of creatures that resemble blood-stained white robes that billow gently in a non-existent breeze. Though there is no indication of physical features beneath the robes, from the arms of each extend several lengths of blackened, spiked chain all ending in savage looking hooks, or claws, of shining steel.
Any time the music of the victrola begins to wind down, the bloody robe creatures begin to move. Their chain arms slither and rattle ominously and their hooked claws scrape together with a faint squeal of sharpened metal, as they begin “dancing” in circles lower and lower. Rewinding the victrola will cause them to return to their places above the darkened dance floor.
How long has the little girl been here in the dark winding the victrola? How can the PCs get her out? What will the bloody robe creatures do if the music completely stops? Are those splintered bones lying on the edges of the dance floor?
851): As the players wonder through a dense wood the encounter a lion, panther, and she-wolf, whether the PCs are winning or loseing after a few rounds of combat the trio flee and a bard appears from behined a tree. He smiles and says "Hello, it seems my companion hasn't arrived yet so how about we take a little journy? You can call me vergil." As they follow the man they realize the world begins to shift around them until it takes on the resemblence of hell... Just to let you know if you didn't realize it this is based on the divine comedy.
If the PCs make camp, they can eat the fruit or catch some fish ... so far, everything is normal.
The nightmare begins when they eventually fall asleep on the carpet of nice soft grass. They will awaken in the morning pinned to the earth as the blades of grass have grown up into their flesh. The blades of grass will find any chink in armor, go between the rings of chainmail, or right through any form of leather seeking flesh or the organic parts of a warforged. The grass will drain 1d2 Con per 12 hours as it feeds on the bodies of the pinned characters.
Getting up requires a Strength check or an Escape Artist check suitable for the level of the PCs.
Although the intrusion of the blades of grass was painless, the extrication is agonizing. Any character successfully tearing free will take 1d4 temporary Dex damage from the excruciating pain.
If any damage dealing area-of-effect spell is used on the grass, the entire vale will immediately wither and turn to dust, leaving behind a field of razor-sharp needles of obsidian where the grass had grown.
**So are we actually going to make it to 1001? Let's keep going!!
.The scraping will continue until they open the chest and find..............nothing inside.A few minutes later the scraping starts up again but this time it is in one of the characters backpacks.After finding out that the sound stays with them dispite their best efforts to get rid of it, the players will start to get used to the sound and move on.
When they leave the Mournlands however, the character with the noise feels a voilent thrashing within his garments or backpack and the scratching stops....for now.
A few days later a fresh zombie covered in long bloody claw marks and with a black and purple crushed throat staggers up to their camp and expires before them. A few moments later the scraping sound starts again, until it feels the need to bring them another present..Bwwaahhhahahahahh
Sorry those evil laughs just slip out sometimes
To make it clear before that, that the headge is changing, make them see a table. A few hours later they see the same table. If I was the PC, I'd do something to the table to be sure. As they go on, it is always the same table. If they leave a trail of sorts, the trail is destroyed. Setting fire to the hedges is probably a bad idea, seeing as they are essentially in the hedge. Have fun!
Creep out: There is one point where instead of seeing a hedge, the walls turn to clear crystal. It is quite thick and cannot be broken. A little while of walking next to the crystal they figure out that they are walking past dead bodies. If they look at the bodies preserved in the crystal they see their loved ones or even themselves. All are charred, hacked, look as though they had been drowned or hanged and other such things. If they look for a small while a couple of the figures move. They, using their own blood of course, write 'help me', 'please', 'go back', and 'don't'.
*Make sure that the hedges don't move while in sight of the PCs.
A little late, but I've been away from the computer for a few days. Sereno, 850 is excellent and 852 delightfully devious. I like your little details, and yahzzz, insta-stolen.
Thanks! I've got a couple more rattling around in my head ... I'll post them when they feel "finished."
Details, IMO, is what really adds the creepy dimension ... the juxtaposition between the normal and the not-normal. I've always approached this sort of thing to follow a great quote from Stephen King, "I first try to terrify. If I can't terrify, I'll horrify. If I can't horrify, I'll go for the gross out."
Terror requires "active" participation from the players ... they have to take the descriptions and really think about them to feel anything.
Horror is a little easier ... more like shocking them with something unexpected.
Grossing them out is even easier, depending on what you know them to find gross, but less elegant.
855): A silent woodland stands before the pcs as they wander the mournland. The trees are all petrified and leafless, even they were not spared from the wretched effects of the mourning. There isn't much of a choice than going through the wood so the pcs enter. The wood seems to be much bigger than it looks from the outside. As they become ever more lost they start to notice dead undergrowth and small trees shaking and rattling in non-existan breezes. After a few minuites of growing paranoia a random pc disapears when no ones looking... It keeps hapening... Until no ones left...
They all awaken to find themselves in a clearing glowing a soft green. The clearing is surronded by giant spider webs as strong as mithral. There is a giant spider with the uper body of a buitiful female elf. The spider woman speaks with a raspy-yet song like voice. She tells the PCs she always wanted "Children" of her own and she'll take good care of them... You can decide what happens after that.
The doors burst open and the museum manager, looking perfectly fine screams at them, "What have you done?! I'd finally gotten them calmed down and silent and you just had to barge in here and wake them! Out! Out!" He chases the PCs into a room filled with swords and axes. When they are all inside he leers at them and says, "Perhaps they can teach you some manners." He slams and locks the doors. If one of the PCs comments on the happenings or one of the pieces...
The water is clean and cold, appearing about six feet deep. The bottom of the spring appears to be solid stone and it looks perfectly normal except for a dark-red ring, somewhat evenly-spaced around the central rocks from which the spring actually flows.
If anyone attempts to drink the water, however, it immediately comes to life and forms a ropy tendril from the drinker's mouth down to the surface of the water. The tendril will penetrate the drinker's throat through their mouth, causing intense agony, and begin draining their blood into the spring.
The character will lose blood (as Con drain) at a rate of 1d2 points per round. A successful Grapple or Escape Artist check (appropriate to the level of the PC) can help an affected PC escape the draining grasp.
As the water tendril drains it's victim's blood, the entire spring will flush deep red and begin to swirl like a small whirlpool. Eventually, all of the drained blood will be drawn down to join the ring of dark red at the bottom of the spring.
Any creature completely drained of blood will continue to be dissolved until nothing is left.
Sereno, that is quite nice... and no bodies left around to discourage new imbibers. :D
Of course, a clean, clear sparkling spring ... surrounded by dessicated corpses ... would be a bit of a giveaway.
[EDIT] I added a comma.
We only have 144 more to go! W00T!
There are a half dozen horsemen trotting from the city toward the party. As the horsemen come closer it is easy to see that they are not among the living. The skeletal knights ride horses of bone. Tattered flags billow in the wind and a lifeless light glowers from the skulls of the dead. The horsemen, however, do not attack the PCs. They ride close and stop.
"Turn back!" the leader calls out in a raspy voice. "The way is shut."
If the PCs look closer they can discern Karrnathi markings upon the undead. Any character with knowledge of the Karrnathi military will be able to tell that these undead are not a product of the Mournland. They ARE Karrnathi undead soldiers. How long they have been in the Mournland, however, is anyone's guess.
If the PC's respond the skeletal leader only replies with, "They way is shut. Turn back now." If the PCs refuse to comply or seem to be making battle prepartions the skeleton say, "Turn back for your own sake! The living cannot face the perils within (enter city name of your choice here)."
The skeleton is telling the truth though it might be hard to convince the PCs of that. On the day of the Mourning the Karrnathi skeletons regained, for whatever reason, their own free will. Since that time they have served as Guardians for whatever terrible horror now dwells inside the city. The Karrnathi are the city's only inhabitants and intend to guard the city for eternity. Whatever unholy horror lurks in the ruined city is up to you, but its entirely possible there was something terrible imprisoned under Cyre and the Mourning awakened it. If the PC's destroy the Great Evil Thing's(TM) warders then the PCs might be responsible for unleashing the Great Evil Thing(TM) upon the world.
This could be interesting for the PCs to find out (From perhaps an insane bard living outside the city) as it would put a new spin on the mournlands...
859.) As the PCs approach a small church on the outskirts of a deserted town they notice some children walking through the graveyard outfront and a priest watching over them. They seem very tired and will not speak of the mourning. If the PCs spend the night here in the mourning they realize they have been sent to the day before the mourning... The priest and children are here as well and are just as they were when they met (I.E. In the future) they must then spend the day before the mourning doing whatever they can... When the mourning happens they're sent back to thier respective time.
Here I go:
860) The PCs find God....but he doesn't appreciate being disturbed so he sicks his guard dog on them - the Tarrasque!
861)
Encounter: Death Giant (MM3 p54)
Tactics: The death giant first uses it's frightful keening ability and Unholy Blight spell to soften up the party. These effects are described in the introductory text. After the party is broken up, it throws a rock at whoever remains and charges into melee.
Treasure: Standard. Specific treasure to be determined by DM.
EL: 16
As the party is traveling through the dead gray mists, Paladins will suddenly sense an overpowering evil aura directly behind the party. Read:
A grim dirge, wailed by a chorus of despairing voices from the gloom behind the party, pierces the dismal desolation of the dead gray mists like a dark omen. A cold, dark miasma of greasy mist rapidly forms around you. A deep, sinister chuckle joins the dirge that surrounds you. You can feel your life being drained away, as if consumed by some greedy destroyer of souls. As the miasma fades, a dark opacity emerges from the mists, and a great rock slams into the dirt at your feet. (or hits someone)
A vague 15 or 20 foot tall humanoid shape seems to grow from the shadowy fog itself. The huge greataxe it carries in its clawed hands could easily split a man in half. It has dark gray skin that matches the dead gray colorlessness of the mists almost perfectly. It's yellow eyes gleam with an unearthly light, and its form is wrapped with screaming faces that appear to materialize from the mist of their own volition then fade to nightmarish memory.
862) The PCs wake the next morning to find themselves in a small pit. They all have just enough room to stand and hold their hands out (like a ballerina) in front of them. No more. The pit is two hundred feet deep and quite sheer. It would take a DC thirty climb check to make it out, and as they climb they would rain dirt down on the rest of the party. After a few rounds the pit starts to fill quickly with dirt. They can make a tumble, escape artist, climb, or jump check to get away from the rising dirt but soon they will be covered to the waist. When they are paper comes up from the dirt before each of them. They are notes saying things like, "Die.", "Come to us.", "Welcome to the underworld." and other such sayings. When the PCs get burried up to their chests the dirst stops rising. All is calm until on of the PCs feels a hand grabbing at their leg...
863.) Trees made from lightning bolts. Each tree of a small grove looks is actually a flickering forked bolt of lightning extending up from the ground to a height of about 100 feet. The roar of the constant thunder splitting the air is enough to cause deafness unless an appropriate Fort save is made. Coming within 100 feet of the trees will result in a strike from a 10d6 bolt, Ref. save for 1/2, every round until the affected character moves away.
864.) Insectile trees. The "leaves" of these tress are actually shiny greenish-black beetles, attached to the stems from the base of their abdomens. The antennae and legs of the beetles move constantly and some occasionally spread their hidden wings and attempt to fly, causing a rattling/buzzing sound that can be heard several hundred yards away. When approached too closely, the beetles will detach from the tree and form a flesh-eating swarm. Whether the swarm is successful or destroyed, it will not return to the tree which will immediately begin regrowing it's "leaves" as masses of wriggling white maggots at the ends of it's branches.
865.) Blood trees. Each of these trees looks fairly normal except for the red coloration of both branch and leaf. However, upon closer examination, it becomes clear that each tree is actually formed completely of warm, liquid blood held in shape by some supernatural force. A soft pulsating sound, like a slow heartbeat, can be heard at the base of the trunk or just beneath the ground.
Nothing of importance happens around the house and the PCs will eventually move on. When they camp for the night, however, one of the PCs on watch hears strange sounds like boards snapping over and over again. When the PCs arise they will find that, not far ahead of them, is the same small cottage. As the DM be sure to make it clear that the PCs are not trapped in a magical spell, but that the cottage has actually MOVED.
The PCs will, obviously, investigate further. As the DM you can spring the 'surprise' on them now or subject them to a few more nights of the moving house. Basically at some point the windows of the house begin to glow with a strange light. Then the door crumples inward revealing row after row of razor sharp metal 'teeth'. The house has been given a cruel sentience by the Mournland and will attempt to devour anything it comes across.
In terms of rules I think the best way to reflect the house would be a giant animated object. The house moves about on 'legs' born of splintered wood and its main attack is its gaping maw. Hands formed of boards and nails will reach out from the side to attempt to push PCs into the 'door mouth'.
While this isn't that scary an encounter it could describe just how twisted the magical events of the Day of Mourning made things. If the PCs somehow get inside the house it is a twisted pocket dimension filled with the damned corpses of those the house has eaten. Basically a reverse zombie movie as the zombies are inside the house and the PCs have to get out!
868. A stand of trees made from bone. Obviously it's Autumn since the leaves are all on the ground, piles and piles of skin just waiting to be raked up.
869. A charging horde of, surprisingly, all races garbed in war gear rushes towards the PCs. Flowing Elven words are mixed among gutteral Orc blood oaths and rumbling Dwarven battle cries as halflings ride snarling mounts towards the party. Even a young dragon is among the small army, its golden scales shining resplendent in the dim light as it lets loose a blood- jellying roar. As the crushing wave of warriors descends on the PCs they die on their own swords. Lances snap and slip into the flesh of their wielders, swords cleave helms as warriors trip on rocks and mis-shot arrows pierce allies. So swiftly do they die among the PCs that the ground is churned to mud from the river of blood, and screams drown out all but the sound of each warrior meeting his doom on the end of his or his allies own weapons.
None of the PCs should get a chance to even touch an enemy.
870. A circling, sky-blackening, foul, stinking, screeching flock of vultures has taken to flying in an ever spinning tornado in the air as close as 30 feet above the PCs heads.
873) The PCs find a hurt animal in their trail. It looks quite tame and has been mauled by some sort of creature, probably a zombie's sword or axe or something. It isn't hurt so bad that it can't move but when it sees the PCs it begs and whimpers. If they take it with them and heal it, when it's wounds are healed it turned into a druid.
"Thank you my friends. I was quite injured and I appreciate you taking care of me. For that I shall grant each of you a wish."
Make the PCs think very hard about their wishes and be specific because the Druid, though they have the power, has no intention of helping the PCs. He or she will twist whatever the PCs say. If they ask for wings, they now have wings. They are useless and look more like feathered or scabby protrusions from their shoulder blades. If the PC asks for lots of money they get about twenty copper. Equal to one gold piece. Just make them be specific. If the PCs argue then the Druid will simply say, "You asked and I fulfilled your request. Enjoy what gifts you have." With a manical laugh he will dissapear. Later the next week the PCs find another hurt animal. This really is an animal. If they heal it it will become a faithful pet to the healer, perhaps even help fight in battle. If they don't then they're simply going one step closer to being evil. Aren't the mournlands so amazingly fun?
Sorry. I just kept reading and saw that Fenris Frost fixed it. Never mind. Sorry for creating false hope. Heh.
- #874 The PCs walk through a rainstorm. All of a sudden, the rain simply stops- in mid air. The PCs are now walking through motionless rain hanging in the air.
- #875 Imagine someone trapped beneath the ice looking up at you and hammering at the ice to get you to help. Now, instead of ice, imagine that you can see someone below the ground similarly trapped. You can see them in the dirt just as if it were ice.
- #876 A BBEG that the PCs have previously defeated and killed wanders into their camp at night. He takes no notice of offensive action taken against him. he sits down and starts to converse with the PCs. He still shows the wounds the PCs gave him. Who knows what he wants to talk about. I think that the more irrelevant the conversation, the more disturbing it will be.
Unsettling for the first dozen times, perhaps, but the whole "children of the corn" vibe was played out ten pages ago. I for one will never produce a Horror using that theme again.
877) Each year, the day of Mourning pushes backward in time. At first, the day normal, but a year later it is celebrated one month prior to the past year. Historical records throughout Khorvaire all reflect this, even as the Dead-Grey mist swallows and encompasses more land. What is causing the Mournland to spread through time and space? Can the PCs stop it?
If you've seen any episodes of Monty Python the effect might not be so good, but just imagine the worry on your players faces while they think of some way to get the message from this old man. And who was he running from? And where was he that he got sand in his hair?
880) The PC's, either through rolling a small statue on a random treasure roll or whatever means the DM wishes, find a small, ivory statue. The DM should roll to determine which PC it looks like, but from that point on it will always be a perfect repleca of that PC. The creepy part is that it will even change its shape and/or stance to match the PC when no one is looking. It's movements can not be felt if holding it, but as soon as everyone looks away or even manages to blink at the same time the statue has moved. Furthermore, if the party tries to sell the statue it will reappear in its PC's possessions and they'll discover that they're short however much they sold it for.
PLAYER:
:OMG!884) Whatever the PCs eat, it fills them with the first bite. After a few days, they start suffering from starvation. Whenever they try to eat more, they throw up and in the vomit are human fingers and toes or even arms and legs. This only lasts for a few days.
885) The PCs pull out rations and find that the creature that was salted for travel food lives again. Only smaller. And missing a few limbs. A piece of beef jerkey is now an uncooked piece of cow that moves when touched and moos in agony.
886) The PCs are in a village. They are invited to dinner with the mayor who seems quite friendly. The village seems to be uneffected by the mist at all. When the food is served they recognize most of the food as human body parts. Spagettie is brains, vegetables are various muscles and meat is perfectly cooked flesh.
887a: Bodies of Drowned men surround the fountain. There is no source of water other than the fountain.
887b: Statues of the dead people stand on an internal section of the fountain.
887c: If the PCs get within 5 feet of the fountain, they wake up one ot these: A Blood Mother (High level only.)
888: A boy and a girl sit next to each other playing with some toys in the middle of a field. In the distance, wild animals can be seen feeding on a kill. Screams can be heard in the distance, and they sound familiar to the PCs. If asked where their parents are, the children say "They'll be along shortly" If the PCs stay more than a day, the animals kill something in the distance again, and the familiar screams can be heard again.
If the leave the kids alone, nothing happens. If the PCs try to move the kids or try to take their toys away, the children become enraged. Refusing to leave. They end up escaping mysteriously even if hauled away tied up.
If the PCs tried to move the kids, try to take the toys, or try to investigate the animal's kill, the PCs end up fighting the animals. While fighting the animals, they recognise the screams as their own.
If the PCs defeat the animals, the "Kill" that they kept capturing, day after day, thanks the PCs for killing the little monsters. The fallen person that the animals kept killing resembles the children's father, or mother.
If the PCs return to the children, the children are dead with the same wounds that killed the animals. Scrawled in blood on the ground is the sentence: "Why did you ruin our fun?"
Hariman
PS: 888 isn't really an original, but it's good if told right.
889: A random PC feels sick and must make a fortitude save, if the pc makes the save, nothing happens for a day, until she (or a different PC) has to make the save again. If she fails the save, she starts to retch and throws up an undead baby that becomes a flesh golem, an advanced zombie, or a maggot golem.
If the sick PC attacks the monster, it cries and begs its parent to stop hurting it.
I used this one on one of the female players in our group, it had a very unsettling effect on her, she had to take a 30 minute break from the game to regain her composure. Unknown to all of us playing at the time she was actually 2 months pregnant and hadn’t told anyone yet.
A jerk. Good job.
Somewhat unrelated, WTF is up with this thread and punishing female PCs entering the mournlands? We don't get a buttload of "and he crawls up the **** of the male player who feels badly constipated, which disappears slowly over nine months"...
That is...gross, disgusting, immoral, something no player ever wants their character to get and in the light of the pregnant gamer, this makes you...
A jerk. Good job.
Somewhat unrelated, WTF is up with this thread and punishing female PCs entering the mournlands? We don't get a buttload of "and he crawls up the **** of the male player who feels badly constipated, which disappears slowly over nine months"...
I agree. At first it seemed kinda' cool...until it got to the crawling into the person.
It would have gone for a better effect if the girl instead, refused to stop following them and eventually atttacked them (like ferally or something).
891. All the PCs have a dream that they are on platforms and can't move for some reason. A dark-skinned man in red, hooded robes, his cheek ripped open, walks on thin air to each PC and puts his hand over their head. He then exclaims "[insert latin-sounding adjective here that describes the PC] insanus!" Then, a crowd of normal adventurers and crazy people of the Mournlands shout, "DON'T TOUCH!"
When the PCs wake up, all other adventurers or crazy people they meet won't try to bother them, and if they try to talk to any sane people, they refuse to let the PCs come near them. They keep having this dream, and each time, more and more adventurers are with them on the platforms. Eventually, they meet all these adventurers and the man in the red, hooded robes.
Since I haven't finished Cell, I don't know what happens next, but this is a good start that you can lead off of.
892) The PCs are in a house. They see a large full body mirror. Above the mirror is a light with a string to turn it on with. The PC who stands in front of the mirror with the light on suddenly dissapears to the eyes of the others. Only when the light is turned off can they see the PC again. It works on everyone but the longer the light is on, the longer it takes for the PC to return from being invisible. Beware though, after some time, they will find themselves in a place of mirrors. If this happens, when the light is turned off, the PC will not return. Instead, their exact opposite will. Call them an evil twin but unless you can find some way to get them back into the mirror and the real PC out, who knows what kind of havok they could wreck. Shouting in places where monsters sleep, attacking at night. The list is endless...
*shurgs* There are only about a couple gender specific horrors. There's alot on children, time changes, and water though.
Don't forget the blood!
894: Large areas of mist, which when walked through show the person inside the mist as thought they had no skin. (Illusion)
895: How about this one:
You enter an almost completely demolished farmhouse, to find a woman stood, staring at you. The woman stands there for a moment and then, with no sound at all, her head falls off and her body slumps to the floor, dead. The body then gets up, replaces it’s head on its shoulders and stands there... a couple of seconds later the head falls off again...
896: Really disgusting one; a rain of tongues/ears/eyes/noses
897: A little spectral boy running around shouting “Mummy, where are you?”, in a distressed voice. When he sees travellers he asks “Are you my mummy?” (Somebody call The Doctor quick!)
898: In the ruined cities a have horde of dress maker’s manikins, who wander aimlessly, screaming.
899: A human bard, dressed in a jester’s outfit, who sits, giggling helplessly to himself while saying, “Not my fault they had to die, not my fault at all...” (The guy is an actual human, who while adventuring was driven mad by the Mournland and murdered his party).
900: In one of the cities, an unbroken shop window, with someone behind it, banging on the unbreakable glass, suffocating.
A 5x5 ft circular "hunting" hole in the ground that moves about like a shadow, continually seeking to give the unwary a nasty fall...
This situation often leads to the question: How do you kill a hole? You fill it in...
Or, you could confront it with its only natural enemy - the pile!
901) Flocks of small carrion birds that swarm those daring enought to disturb their plentiful feeding grounds, whispering the death curses of those who died in the Mourning as they try to peck out the characters' eyes.
**is also aware that Missekat's wonderful 'Consequences of entering the Mournland' thread has been lost to the land of wind and ghosts. A pity.
902***) A large arch guarding the Dragon's Market in Metrol is carved so that it resembles the yawning maw of a Red Dragon. The first mortal (no warforged!) to pass through it each day loses the ability to speak or write in any language but gains the ability to speak and write Draconic with perfect eloquence. This can be overcome through remove curse or similar magic.
Furthermore, by speaking aloud a question, perfectly uttered in the primal tongue of Eberron, the speaker may commune as per the spell with a caster level equal to his character level. Each use, however, drains a point of CON, which may never be regained by mortal means.
This begs the question: just what is the nature of this bargain which trades life for answers, and with whom is it made? Also consider that the Commune triggers off of any question spoken in Draconic. The chatty may pale quickly...
***Not very Horrible
903) As they characters are all sitting around the campfire, just talking, getting over the horrors of the day, setting the watch, cooking the meal and so on, one of the characters notices that another has shrunk slightly. It isn't a ton but it is noticable. If they point it out, everyone else notices as well and the character is probably getting scared. They sleep, or not, and the next morning they start walking. The character continues to shrink bit by bit until he is the size of a halfling. Just imagion what his armor check penalty is and how his stats are affected. Oh goody. The next day his hair color changes as do his eyes. He is now a halfling. Remove curse does not work. It is as if his character had been made as a halfling from the beginning. After about two days, a character notices that, once again, another character is shrinking/growing. Use just about any race to change them to. Don't make it take too long but long enough to make people be like, wtf? They know it is their traveling companion but...he's different. Heehee.
After an event involving divine energy (freak explosion, Demonic Possession, ect.) A character is covered in the black, scaly skin of a fiend and gains the half-fiend template but may only speak in rhyme. Should the victim speak normally, the skin rips off off its own volition, causing 10d6 damage (Fort DC 20 Half) and flies onto another character nearby. Possibly another PC. A fiendish intelligence present in the hide informs the character of this.
Anyone who has ever worn the skin is affected by Holy Word, Holy Smite, Unholy Blight, Detect Evil, and other such spells as though the Moral Component of his Alignment were evil. This condition lingers until they gain the benefit of Wish, Miracle, bathe in a sacred spring of Holy Water located somewhere in Metrol, possibly in the lost Cathedral to the Host mentioned in ECS. Allow a Bardic Knowledge, Knowledge (Religion), or Knowledge (Local) to identify the cure.
906) The PCs wake up and find themselves completely naked. Instead, they have leathery skin or something, or not. Your choice. If they joke about it, make them really think about how they would feel. Especialy meeting someone that was fully clothed. Or a town of very modest people. It might put a bit of a damer of intimidates or anything that might need them to be confident. Charisma doesn't mean how good you look. It's how your people skills are. If you can still talk well to people with no clothes, good for you. Other people though, might think you're crazy and not be as willing to help...
907) The PCs can fly but randomly in their flight they drop suddenly, almost hitting the ground and then managing to catch themselves again. After a while they have to cross something like crockadiles (I know the spelling sucks), lava, a field of glass, an ocean of blood, or something else fun. What'll happen if they're wings fail now?
908) Even wonder what it would be like to be able to have any power you wanted, just for a day? Well, now's the chance. One PC a day can do whatever they want (like the X-men for ideas).
909) The PCs awaken to find that their clothes have actually become their skins. All normal clothing, except for non-organic components, is now actually part of the character. Cutting into or trying to remove their "clothing" is just as painful as cutting into or trying to removetheir normal skins. Buttons and buttonholes, lacings and buckles are a constant source of pain, irritation and discomfort, causing 1d4 temporary Dex damage each day (which can be fully healed by getting a decent night's rest).
I got this from a book by Orson Scott Card named 'Treason'. It was really good. Check it out. Also Ender's game and other stuff by him. Futuristic stuff. *shrug* Freaking good though.
911) The PCs wake to find themselves growing new body parts; extra arms, legs, fingers, toes, eyes noses, ears and such. They also find that they, of course, make them more clumsey but cutting them away, though painful, works with no ill effect. Indeed, they heal rapidly and for the next few days they have something like fast healing five or so. It's pretty cool. After a while though, the arms and legs start growing faster and faster, more and more...
912) Suddenly practicly every feature of landscape cuts out as a giant ice and snow storm kicks up. The storm prevents escape though dosn't hurt too badly despite the probable lack of winter clothing the PCs have. After a short while the storm lets up and the PCs find themselves standing in front of an enourmous ice mountain, the cliff is neir sheere and there is only one entrance through a small cave just big enough for the biggest PC, the storm picks up even stronger this time, strong enough to soon kill the PCs.
Inside the cave near the entrance there is what appears to be a fossilized undergrowth. After a while longer (or much sooner if they travel deeper into the cave) They see an enourmous green mass approaching them. This is a collosal plant version of the Gelantionous cube, it appears to be made out of plantparts.
(Thanks to H.P. Lovecrafts "At the Mountains of Madness"
During the dream, wordless murmuring can barely be heard from all around them. No words can be understood, but the sounds carry a definite impression of caring and compassion directed at each of them... the feeling the characters get while listening to the murmur could even be described as love.
Suddenly the murmuring changes in tone, becoming confused, then alarmed, and finally panicked. Then, just as suddenly, all sounds stop. The characters still feel like they're floating, but the red glow slowly fades to blackness, and the warmth is replaced by a suffocating chill. The PCs have trouble breathing, as though their breath is being drawn from their lungs and they can't pull it back, no matter how hard they try. Anything they try to do to escape fails, and all they can do is claw at the air as their lungs burn, trying in vain to get something, anything, into them...
Then, they wake up. Every time the PC has this dream, they awake curled up in the fetal position, gasping for air. There are no hindering effects to the PCs, but the dream repeats itself the next two nights.
The day after they have the dream for the third time, the adventurers stumble upon a truly pitiful scene: A group of bodies; former Cyran soldiers escorting a large group of women. Most of the bodies are oriented in such a way that the PCs can figure out easily that the group was fleeing the site of a battle, probably from a large town or city. The most heart-wrenching aspect of the scene is that every one of the women was pregnant.
If the players don't figure it out, allow them to make checks to realize that the dreams they were having were the last experiences of the unborn children as they slowly perished in their mothers' wombs.
914. Trekking across the barren, dead, nightmarish expanse of the Mournlands, a speck resolves on the horizon, the only discerning feature for miles. When close enough to tell, they see an abandoned farmstead surrounded by a wooden fence. It takes very little for them to see that the work was done by a master carpenter, everything joined perfectly with no excess, simple yet elegant scrollwork decorates doors and window frames, and many finished pieces stand in various places around the yard. The house appears long empty, yet a spiral of smoke trails from a shed behind.
As the PCs draw closer, they can hear the sound of sawing, the steady, rhythmic scrape, scrape, scrape.
The door is half open, enough to show half of the room, but not the person working. The sawing takes a slightly different tone, harsher somehow, more grinding, as the PCs peer in. Pushing the door open reveals the carpenter with his back towards the door, his piece hidden from view. So intent is he that he does not turn around for some time. The sawing takes a final, wet, tearing sound and a liquid splat rings out in the silence.
His hand falls to the floor.
Turning around to stare at you, his blank eyes gaze dully towards you, the hacksaw in one hand, dripping blood slowly while blood flows freely from the stump of his left hand. As you watch, the hand stands up on its fingers, slipping somewhat in the blood and reaches to tug at the man's trouser leg. Bloody fingerprints, as well as cracked and dried blood on the saw and floor suggest that this has happened before.
As the man slowly turns to look at the hand, it crawls up his pants leg and over his shoulder, down his arm to the end where it settles itself like an old man sitting himself down in a comfortable chair. The flesh stretches to reattach, and there is a wet grinding sound as bone reknits itself.
Hollow eyed, the man returns his stare to you, turns around, and raises the saw again....
Scrape.
916) A PC becomes unable to die, but is hypersensitive to pain. There is no threshold of negative HP at which the character dies, but every round they must Fort Save at a DC of 10+current damage or be nauseated with pain for the round.
Entire fields of horribly wounded soldiers lie scattered in the Mournlands. Severed heads beg move their lips in a breathless plea. At the center of one lies the Terrasque, at another, a Demon's place built out the still living bodies of his vicitms.
918): (Insipred by 914) As the PCs approach a collapsing shack they hear a small grinding sound followed by a wet thud, a moment of silence, and then more grinding. Inside they find an old man slowely sawing peices off bodies and putting them in a pile, he seems to be blind and deaf as he never notices the pcs. After he finishes several bodies he somehow picks out the best of each part and grafts them together and stuffs them with whatever he can find (Usually weeds in the field outside) and sits them around him.
After cresting a dead baby, you come upon a tranquil dead baby in a sheltered dead baby amid the dead babies. The dead baby around the dead baby seems untouched by the dead babies of Mourning, for at least a few dead babies or to the dead babies of the surrounding dead babies.
A large dead baby shades one dead baby of the dead baby and dead babies and dead babies sway and rattle lightly in a cooling dead baby. The occasional dead baby of a dead baby can be heard and somewhere, out of dead baby, a dead baby of a jumping dead baby can be heard.
Even the gray dead babies overhead can be mistaken for normal dead babies on a slightly overcast dead baby; the dead baby seems to be actually shining through a little. Like most dead babies, the dead baby is slightly greenish with dead babies and the dead baby of the dead baby cannot be seen.
Nothing will come to harm dead babies who choose to camp here. The dead baby of dead baby and dead baby will continue, so long as no one touches the dead baby of the dead baby.
If anyone does touch the dead baby, however, the entire dead baby shatters like a dead baby struck by a hammer and collapses into the dead baby of the dead baby. The dead baby of the dead baby is parched and cracked like desert dead baby and littered with enough dead babies to be the dead baby of an entire dead baby.
Soon after, the dead baby and the dead babies and the dead babies dry up and turn to dead baby. The unaffected dead baby quickly succumbs to the effects of the Mourning and the dead baby between these dead babies becomes like all the others; dead and blasted. The sense of dead baby departs at the shattering of the dead baby.
Seriously. What?
What made you pick my entry #269 -- which does does not contain any references to dead babies at all, nor do any of my entries -- to use for your example?
Allow him his humor. I found it particularly amusing and so I'll laugh. Jokes are meant to be laughed at. If you don't like it and think that it was offensive and the author a moronic cretin, don't give him the satifaction of a reaction.
That's easy for you to say ... he didn't turn YOUR work into a travesty! :D
920) After fighting some aberrations, the pcs manage to find a cave to rest in, which is obviously inhabitated. Later that evening, an old man comes in and says he is the inhabitant. He will engage the pcs in a conversation, tell them it is quite boring being alone here and inquire about the events of the day. As soon as the pcs come to their glorious monsterslaying, the man will become wide-eyed and move to the entrance of the cave. He will then ask "Monsters? They looked like monsters to you?" before sliding out into the darkness of night, never to be seen again.
If you already played around a bit with illusion spelleffects in the Mournland, at least some players will seriously question what they did kill.
That's easy for you to say ... he didn't turn YOUR work into a travesty! :D
Heh, I like to think I've created my work as travestal as it can go. No one can further perfection. Well. Okay, I'm this close to beating that too, but it might take me all day.
(Why yes, I'm saying this to the SH3 thing. <,< sure, it's neat, but too blatantly stolen)
921: As 920, but one PC ends up grafted onto a different PC. (Still capable of taking normal actions like spellcasting and attacking, but can't move unless the other PC moves.)
922: If a PC ever gets angry and yells at someone else in character, the anger manifests as burrowing worms that crawl out of the angry PC and attack the character that caused the anger.
923: When the PCs go to sleep for the night, every so often one of them wakes up in the morning in a shallow grave, partially covered in dirt.
924: One of the PCs keeps finding flowers by his/her head with love notes attached upon waking up in the morning. Eventually, the PCs find the person who was sending the love notes....
926: An open field in which Scorching Ray spells are fired from the sky at random. These are not living spells but they have no apperant caster. the area in which the spells are fired has a 1 mile radius. each minute spent in the field roll a D20. on a 1-5 you get hit by a ray. A reflex save halves damage (DC 20).
927: A swirling cloud of smoke inside an old ruined house. The house undoubtedly belonged to a magic user of some sort. the smoke does nothing when just touched but when someone moves into it to be totally covered they are instantly teleported to Mabar (25%), Xoriat, (25%), or Dolurrh (50%). there is no return portal.
Ummm, Schwaumlaut?
What made you pick my entry #269 -- which does does not contain any references to dead babies at all, nor do any of my entries -- to use for your example?
Oh, nothing personal. Your post had lots of nouns in it.
As the party stops and stares, the PC coughs again. And coughs, and coughs and coughs, his body wracked with tremors and with a sickening, retching cough, a dead black bird falls to the ground. After a moment the bird stirs, picks itself up and, ruffling bloody feathers, fixes the PC with a beady black eye devoid of any emotion save perhaps.... menace?......
A drop of blood slowly leaks from the corner of the PCs staring mouth and falls to the ground. As it hits, the PC is knocked to the ground as an explosion of wings, feathers, claws, beaks and blood whirls into the air, streaming from his open mouth in a chittering, cackling, cawing storm. Wheeling through the air in a blood-drenched tornado, the Slaughter of Ravens attacks the PCs. (Swarm of crows)
Afterwards.
Call a Fortitude.
928. A failed fortitude (anything less than 20. Call this on the wizard or someone with bad Fort. They worry) produces a terrifying effect. The PC gives a throaty cough and a black, bloody, bedreggled feather lands on the ground with a small splat.
As the party stops and stares, the PC coughs again. And coughs, and coughs and coughs, his body wracked with tremors and with a sickening, retching cough, a dead black bird falls to the ground. After a moment the bird stirs, picks itself up and, ruffling bloody feathers, fixes the PC with a beady black eye devoid of any emotion save perhaps.... menace?......
A drop of blood slowly leaks from the corner of the PCs staring mouth and falls to the ground. As it hits, the PC is knocked to the ground as an explosion of wings, feathers, claws, beaks and blood whirls into the air, streaming from his open mouth in a chittering, cackling, cawing storm. Wheeling through the air in a blood-drenched tornado, the Slaughter of Ravens attacks the PCs. (Swarm of crows)
Afterwards.
Call a Fortitude.
Quote the Raven...
Quote the Raven...
The Raven
[First published in 1845]
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
928. A failed fortitude (anything less than 20. Call this on the wizard or someone with bad Fort. They worry) produces a terrifying effect. The PC gives a throaty cough and a black, bloody, bedreggled feather lands on the ground with a small splat.
As the party stops and stares, the PC coughs again. And coughs, and coughs and coughs, his body wracked with tremors and with a sickening, retching cough, a dead black bird falls to the ground. After a moment the bird stirs, picks itself up and, ruffling bloody feathers, fixes the PC with a beady black eye devoid of any emotion save perhaps.... menace?......
A drop of blood slowly leaks from the corner of the PCs staring mouth and falls to the ground. As it hits, the PC is knocked to the ground as an explosion of wings, feathers, claws, beaks and blood whirls into the air, streaming from his open mouth in a chittering, cackling, cawing storm. Wheeling through the air in a blood-drenched tornado, the Slaughter of Ravens attacks the PCs. (Swarm of crows)
Afterwards.
Call a Fortitude.
Am I to understand that with each fit of coughs these birds are emerging from the wizards mouth?
And what do you mean:
Afterwards.Call a Fortitude.
Please clarify, this is an awesome idea, just a bit hard to understand, or it could just be that I'm reading it at 4:45am. Not sure which one...
But Seth, clarifying even further, birds do not come out each cough. It's a building up to the climax when he does cough out a full bird.
And yeah, the fortitude is just to creep people out afterwards.
Wow, Tumteetumteetum, you couldn't have explained it better if you were my own sister!?
Wait a MOMENT! I do believe I am your sister. What a coincidance(sp?)!!!
This is a really cute and sweet exchange, I just thought I would share that.
929) Really bad hair day. The PCs come across a trail of thin threads heading off over a hillock. If they follow the threads, they will eventually find more of them, all running in the same direction, getting thicker and thicker. At the "end" of the trail of hair is a large "hairball" about three feet thick and five feet long.
If they prod the the pile of hair with a stick or a weapon they will discover something solid in the middle. Further investigation will reveal what appears to be a body, now shrunken and partially mumified by the heat and dry air of this section of the Mournland, and they will realize that all of the hair they've discovered is part of this creature (person?).
Every inch of the creature (person?) is covered with hair, even in places where hair doesn't normally grow like the palms of its hands and soles of its feet.
The dessicated figure is still clutching at a small knife, or maybe it's a straight-razor, and appears to have died with an expression of acute pain upon it's face.
Shortly after coming across this horrible sight, or even if they don't bother to investigate, the PCs will begin growing their own hair at an incredible rate; inches an hour. And, adding to the horror, from places that don't normally grow hair at all, too. At first it will just be a nuisance, but eventually it will get so long as to start tripping over it, or getting caught on rocks and plants.
When they try to shave off this new "Mournland hair", however, the true horror is revealed ... just trying to cut away the hair causes agonizing pain and deals subdual damage to the character equal to the damage of the weapon they try to use (1d4+strength for a dagger, for example).
Can the PCs survive the subdual damage to free themselves of the all-consuming hair? Will it just keep growing and growing?
I'd recommend letting the PCs sweat it out and suffer for a while, but the effect should eventually end on it's own (perhaps a time limit, or the effect is localized to a specific area and ends if/when they manage to leave).
Perhaps as a side-effect of this horrible experience, the PCs will feel pain and take subdual damage every time the get a haircut for the rest of their lives!
930. A pack of dead, rotting animals (snakes, dogs, raccoons, etc) follows the PCs everywhere with flies buzzing through the air and the stench of the long dead carcasses following so thick as to be nearly tangible. They stop when the PCs stop, and at night they form a ring around the PCs camp, opening to admit the PCs when they leave.
If you were cursed so that cutting your hair was painful, it would manifest once and a while in-game, too.
Besides, my campaign is mostly centered in Sharn and my PCs have been hob-nobbing with some of the wealthy and noble people. They DO take their appearance seriously. They don't want to look all grungy and smelly while meeting Celyria ir'Tain at a party.
The 1st to touch will be refered to as the "Master"
The 2nd will be refered to as the "Servant"
The book is empty except for a table of contents at the front. There are no page numbers in it, but where they should be there is a small green circle. Everything listed is a location ing the Mournland
when the Master put his finger on the green circle instanly all lights go out and it suddnely becomes as dark as possible. A thundering vioce come from nowhere and everywhere in the darkness and shouts whatever the Master selected.The lights slowly come back on. An old man stands in front of the Master. He tells information about the location selected. He is not conversational and does not answer questions he speaks in a monotonous voice and does not stop talking to a looking at the Master. when he is done talking about the place he will finish with "The Servant must go there."
Until the Servant reaches the location various monsters will attack the Master. Any monsters you want as frequently as you want. They will be determined to kill the Master and no others.
Back to the book. The book now has info on whatever location was chosen. If the book is destroyed the Adventuerers are transpoted to a random part of the Mournland. any place that is farther away from the place that was chosen
932. how about a blood angel? ya know the pcs walk into a town where the ground is covered with blood and then they hear all this giggling and begin to see blood angels forming in the muck. (think snowangels only steven kingized)
if you email me at [email]tribfrce4534@yahoo.com[/email], i can send you the word document when its all cleaned up and readable.
Despite all of this, there is absolutely nothing special about this location, other than it's appearance. Healing is still impossible, and while monsters would enter the green area, there are none in sight.
Sometimes, the scariest thing of all is contrast, and the player's own minds. Show them this seemingly inviting and wonderful spot, and watch them freak as they imagine what sort of horrible thing might happen to them should they enter it, or even worse, what it might have done to them while they were in it.
934) During the wee hours, the night is disturbed by the soft footfalls of dog approaching camp. Looking over toward the sound, the character on watch sees the parting of grass under pawlike indentation and the slight whine of a dog. The firelight casts the shadow of a phantom Labrador as he paws the ground, turns around twice, and plops down to fall asleep.
If the party has a means of communicating with animals, I'd allow a few questions.
The Lord of Blades (himself)
939. The PCs come across the remains of a very recent battle. The remains on the battlefield are themselves, however. Each PC sees his or her own remains, killed in some fashion opposite of their strength (i.e. spellcasters have been hacked, stabbed, or beaten to death, fighters and other melee types have been imploded, burned, frozen, disintegrated, etc). A raven, scavenging on of the bodies, looks up at the PCs and cawls "the bringer of death hunts you."
Rather then turning victums into soft fleshy morphing living tissue it turns victums into half corrupted warforged. LIke, if it got your arm a bit, but you still made it away, you might end up with a warforged left arm on your otherwise living body.
I hope this idea hasn't been mentioned already.
941) There is an odd congregation of a zombie, a teenage vampire, and what looks like an ogre sized, well muscled, and green man standing around an odd collection of toy weaponry and armor just over the hill. They are discussing something, but the only word the PC's can make out is "LARP" (unless they head towards them). Speaking to the group reveals that they are "LARPers" and "Goths" but the PC's can't seem to figure out what those words mean. If asked for their names, the zombie is named Larry (and is sentient), the vampire is named Vilbert, and the massive green man is simply called "The Sulk". Attacking them causes them to weep and recite aweful poetry, but not fight back.
Note:
I love the creepy horrors that have been posted by others, but I'm just too crazy... er... silly to resist doing this.
By the way, I've been at camp for almost three months and I finally got to read these posts. I have only four words to express my feelings on what all of you have posted. I love you guys.
You can have them meet a few people like that outside the library or around the town or something to help it along. *shrug* I dunno, I just wanted to get the thread moving again.
945. The PCs break fro camp, detailing guard, setting up tents and a fire. As soon as the fire is completed it shakes and shivers and bursts forth with seemingly more logs and twigs than were put in it. These burning apparitions race through the camp, yet catch nothing ablaze, and finally settle in a large ring around the camp as though warding something away. What lurks out in that darkness? Or is it the darkness itself?
946. As the PCs march along, stoic and steadfast through the Mournlands, the ground parts in front of them (with a rumbling and churning of earth and stone) in a channel 6 feet deep. Lining the edges on normal ground level are tombstones. The ground opens up in front of them regardless of where they step, including wherever they might dodge to. This could be interesting if anyone were to fall.....
943) The ground shakes and trembles. Of in the distance the PCs hear the sounds of a baby crying. The noise gets louder as though it is coming closer. A woman runs by. She is sobbing hystericaly and nothing can make her stop. A couple seconds later a gigantic toddler runs past throwing a tantrum. You see him catch up to the woman and pick her up. She struggles in his grip and then goes limp. The toddler cries, not knowing why mommy won't play with him. He dropps the woman. She doesn't move. Closer inspection reveals that the woman is dead. The Toddler watches the group curiously. He givs a baby grin and walks over to the PCs. Want to play?
Killed by a giant baby in the Mournlands ... I don't think I could think of a much worse way to go!
When the party goes into a rope trick to camp/rest/heal whatever and you're getting sick of it. Pick one player at random, and have them make a spot check. They see something 'outside' the rope trick. A little later have someone else make a spot check. They see a face and hands pressed against the rope trick's 'wall' Still later someone else sees the same face and hands against the wall, but now the wall is bowing in. Of course only one person sees this at a time...
I did this and the party started freaking, looking for how something could get into the rope trick, complaining that 'that shouldn't happen' and the like.
948) Low Key paranoia
When the party encounters a group off bodies, call for spot checks. Tell players they thought they saw a twitch, or a chest rise and fall. Sit back and watch. If they get the clever idea of hauling the body into the rope trick to heal it, let them get what they deserve.
Inscribed on the headstone is the player's full name, Their birthdate, which is two years to the day before their actual birthdate, and the day of their death, which is exactly three days after the birthdate on the headstone.
Somewhere near this graveyeard, the players lived and died two years before they were born.
(Happened to me in real life. Creeped me out and kept me jiggy for weeks just thinking about it.)
Re,
D
950. A PC is mauled quite ridiculously, and I do mean mauled. The most gruesome of his/her wounds, however, is where his head was torn completely free from his body. But, at least he's not letting it slow him down! The PC acts as though he had his total number of hitpoints before his "death," and can walk around and act normally. His head won't stay on, however, without extra effort made to attach it (sewing or whatever would reasonably work). Should the PC keep his head separate, he gains immunity to flanking if his head is in a position to watch the fight. No creature will attack the severed head.
The head must be reattached before leaving the Mournlands or the PC will die upon leaving the mist. You can have the head reattach after a while if you are so inclined.
When they start to feel fire ants eating that part of their leg that they lost a week ago in that field about a fifty miles away and realize that there's nothing they can do about it but wish that one of the other members in the party will cast disintegrate their still living head will they will know why the gods bless mortals with a death at -10 hp.
952. The PCs walk through a field strewn with papers fluttering in the wind, blowing across the waving stalks of grass, ragged and torn. Cracked bindings and split covers lie cast about as though some ravenous creature had eviscerated a library. A large stack of books suddenly explodes into the air to their right as another flies through the air to their left. They race towards each other with pages flapping almost like manic chittering and you can practically hear their malicious intent as they race towards each other. (Use some swarms for the books' stats, it doesn't matter which. Something that won't hurt the PCs too badly.) As they meet with a snapping of covers and tearing of pages, both descend upon the PCs and engage in a three way combat where ink is spilled as often as blood.
What can I say?
Ignorance is bliss.
953. The PCs enter a windy little valley and come upon a horrific sight. At the center of the small valley is what appears to be a swirling wind, like a small tornado.
Carried within the churning, twisting column or air are countless parts of human bodies; hands, feet, forearms, thighs, torsos, heads. All of the parts appear to have been neatly, almost surgically, severed; though, the still visible blood around the edges hints that the separation was done while the victims were still living.
As horrible as the "body part tornado" might appear at first, there is an even more terrible sight yet to see. Some of those severed hands are still clenching weapons. Some of the severed heads are looking around. Looking at the PCs with expressions of malice or longing. Some of them seem to scream "Join us!"
Slowly, splattering the ground beneath it in a constant shower of red, red blood, the tornado rumbles, twisting and churning, slowly towards the PCs....
The PCs find a graveyard and upon searching the graveyard they each locate a tombstone with their own name, their own date-of-birth, a phrase that is at least somewhat descriptive of them ("Stalwart Paladin of the SF" or "Bold Warrior" or "Mighty Wizard"), and a death date three days in the future....
956: If the PCs notice it, their shadows make the normally dead, withered grass and flora become more vivid, alive and blooming. When their shadow moves from that spot, the grass reverts to its normal, pallid or dead state.
The premise is this: Assuming you have an even numbered party, have the players switch bodies a la Freaky Friday (i.e., the Warforged Fighter is in the body of the Halfling Wizard and vice versa, etc.). Fairly cliche, right?
WRONG!!!
The twist here is that the person cannot control the new body that they possess, but rather their original body, and only then, while they have each other on the other's sights. If visual contact is broken up, the person stays in the last position placed until another PC helps restore visual contact.
Again, using the example of the Warforged Fighter and the Halfling Wizard, the Fighter sees his own body and can control it only while seeing his own body. Conversely, the Halfling Wizard, trapped in the Fighter's body, will not be able to talk or walk unless she can see her own body from the Fighter's eyes.
If one wishes to make this easier, this can affect PCs (and even NPCs) for only 1d4-1 rounds or minutes, depending on the situation. If one has an odd numbered party, let the unaffected PC help keep switched PCs in each other's visual range and whatnot.
This is an idea modified from a Google search I did on a second-person shooter. Google it up and see what you get...
958: the party is approached by the ghostly form very young child. It is obviously that this is not a fight. Enter sob story (true story is detect lies is used). Kid is not evil either (no paladin pinging). She just wants the good guys to find her body and bury it outside of the mournlands. After we tracked down the girl’s body, she was killed by her father days before the mourning happened (father’s log). The problem is she does not remember things for long (think 50 first dates). Every so often the ghost appears and goes through a hysterical monolog. Screaming about kidnapping, or abuse, or just staring at one of us and crying as she floats along. Of course, if we dump the body the ghost stays with us and goes through the first encounter again and again.
Just as we approach the mists and the ghost stops making appearances. But we hear a voice coming towards us in the mists, it’s the ghostly girl’s voice. “Thank you so much for helping me get my body out of this place. You are great heroes. I can’t believe that anyone would kill a little girl like me in the first place..”
Of course a second voice answers her. “it is the duty of paladins to help innocents like you.”
Paladins stumble into us in the mist, crazy ghost girl screams “Hey, that’s my body. They must be the killers! Blah, blah, blah. Now we have to convince a bunch of SF paladins that we are innocent while carrying a dead girl’s body, while not being able to see more than a few feet from us.
I hate the Mournland.
DM
And here I was wondering what to do tomorrow night.
*shrug* I just made this up on the fly.
A church lies silhouetted against the darkening sky and light shines forth from inside but... oddly, as though the walls were bare patchwork of stone. As the party approaches the size of the church becomes apparent and they see it for what it truly is:
A massive cathedral, at least 5 storeys high complete with stained glass and a spire rising at least thirty feet above the roof of the building itself. The weathervane on top is difficult to distinguish in the fading evening sky... The light shines patchedly from inside because of the cathedral's bulding materials; massive thorns grow from the ground, wrapping and warping around each other to form the walls, floors and ceiling of this dark cathedral.
What's that sound? A whimper? Dear gods! The church is not uninhabited for there are people inside. However, each lays malevolently and utterly wrapped by the thorns, making movement agonizing at the least. Is that the mystical oracle the PCs were searching out up on the third storey there? What about the dark and twisted figure atop the weathervane? Is that the master of this place, dark, twisted and vile as the very walls?
962. As 961, but mixed in with the gruesome snow of skin are squalls of "hail" in the foirm of teeth, their bottoms bloody as if freshly torn from living jaws.
963. A small town where every living thing has been transformed into faintly purple-tinged crystal statues; those who can sense lifeforce will be certain that the statues harbor a kind of life, but the real horror is for any telepathic characters - each and every one of the statues contains the mind and soul of the creature it was before the Mourning, aware of the surroundings but frozen forever. Worse, unless a statue is utterly destroyed (by a Disintegrate spell, for example), any damage or breakage simply results in excrutiating pain to the trapped entity, which anyone with even a hint of psionic potential can feel.
964. A weird trick of the ground makes the PC's footsteps echo hollowly, as if they were walking atop an immense drum; after a short time, they begin to hear other footsteps echoing from behind them - however, if they look, nothing can be seen.
965. Mercury begins to drizzle from the skies, heavy drops of liquid metal impacting quite painfully on any unfortunate enough to be out in the open - to say nothing of the fumes and the potential poisoning of any wounds the liquid metal rolls across.
966. An immense magical seal is carved into the earth; at the center of it, a twitching mass of flesh squirms sluggishly, seemingly like a humanoid whose body parts have all been badly disorganized. It takes no notice of anyone, aside from squealing shrilly if injured and trying to squirm away rather unsuccessfully.
967. A statue of a half-elven man, sword drawn as if to strike some unseen foe;his face is set in a furious glare, looking deeper into the Mournlands. At first, it seems to be nothing more; but if the party lingers, they see thin trickles of smoke and flame rising from the corners of the statue's eyes, as if it were weeping fire at being denied the chance to strike whatever it confronted.
968. A pulsating sphere of colors; while essentially harmless, it seems to bend and distort the very geometry of existence around it, such that distances and angles seem off, and the inner ear feels constantly unbalanced. The effect is only noticable within 500 feet of the sphere, but anyone within this area is automatically considered shaken due to the unnerving effects of the bent universe. This is also a great time to unleash something like a rain of blood, as the droplets appear to jerks and refract through the air as they hit the broken and bent intersections of space around the sphere.
969: The ground underfoot trembles, and then explodes upward as a vast swarm of flying insects, bat, or ravens (DM's choice) erupt from underfoot, buffeting the entire party for several seconds before the entire swarm circles once overhead and vanishes off into the distance.
970. In an open, barren field, a solitary voice is singing a soft, lonely lament. It may or may not be a song with names; if it is, the voice just might be singing a lament for the characters.
971. A mass of insturments, drifting along above the ground as if held by musicians, playing a fugue.
972. The group encounters a blizzard frozen in time, thickly swirling flakes hovering in the air, unmelting. Characters can push through the snow, leaving tunnels in their shape behind them.
973. A rain of burning sulfur and phosphorous begins to fall like snowflakes made of fire.
974. It begins to rain, but each raindrop screams in a tiny voice, as if it were a living person falling to certain death. Best used as a light sprinkling rather than a full storm, so that the PCs hear individual screams approaching, zip by, and abruptly end.
977. High-pitched whistling followed by the sounds of explosions, rapidly approaching the group, but nothing can be seen; the last explosion sounds as if it went off in the middle of the group, but nothing else occurs.
978. A small grove of trees, caught in a fierce windstorm that the party can't feel.
979. Sourceless, deranged laughter drifts across the party's path.
980. A river, filled with an abnormally thick pool of the mists, which seem to ripple and swirl like water. Who knows what might happen if you try fording this river?
981. A seemingly clear, clean river that flows out of a cave and over a small waterfall into a large hole in the ground. The water might be a potent acid, or perhaps liquid glass, or the source might be a living Fabricate spell, continually leeching the moisture from a whole battlefield of corpses to form the river. (And who would want to drink that, then?)
983. A city made entirely of Obsidian sits in the plains. The citizens are made from marble, most are fleeing, but in the center of town are more. These statues are Karrnathi undead, only they are translucent red. They sit in orderly rows, all of them face towards the gruesome scene in the center. 10 people lay on the ground, above them are their children, only these children are like the undead surrounding them, the children were carving their parents to pieces...
984. On the glass plateau the PC's encounter a party of warforged. These warforged are covered in shards of the plain's glass and wield sabers of the same.
985. The ground liquifies. The PC's sink slowly, one notices a stick, when he grabs it the PC's are left half-buried in the dirt. The nearby river begins to flood, the ink black waters slowly rise towards them.
988. The PC's encounter a dog roaming the plains. It comes up to the one with the highest charisma. It asks "Where's Johnny?" The PC's can follow the dogs direction to Metrol and retrieve the child's body. As soon as they hit the edge of the Mournland with it the child awakes and bites the PCs. Short story, brain switch.
989. The PC's all find themselves trapped in a cave. Water rushes through the bottom of the cave. In fact the water pushes everyone up towards the cieling at a fast rate. None of the PC's seem to notice the strange stench of blood, and only notice after they escape through the hole in the bottom of the cave, through which it was flowing.
990. Time stops. Literally, the PC's can move, but they can't interact with anything, and they feel no need to eat. Until they complete their objective time stops. This means that they can't fight monsters, but it also means they can't regain spells or open doors. They must figure out how to do their task without changing anything.
991. Time is too fast. Every monster is hasted and they find they are tired in half the time, of course magical effects are halved too. They need to do whatever they have to as fast as possible. Will they make it?
992. The PC's see Cyre as it was before the Mourning, in fact they don't' even percieve the mists. They go through and can attempt to find the reason for the day of the mourning, or they can try to free themselve from the disaster.
993. Living cures swarm the party. They make a concerted effort to carry one away and simply incapcitate the others.
994. A kalashtar lays on the ground crying. She rants about the pain, the massive amount of pain. If asked where it comes from she says the plane of dreams, as his spirit is tortured. She even warns them that theirs will be next/
995. Four shifters attack the party. Only these shifters have numerous warforged grafts and are variant saurian shifters. Perhaps the warforged in the Mournland were conducting experiments, perhaps the mourning did more than kill...
996. An airship lays on the ground. As the PC's approach the ship groans to life and attack the PC's, attempting to crush them.
997. A whirlwind of warforged and karrnathi parts attacks the PCS. The amalgamation cries for the blood of the flesh-beings and for construct, while fighting the PC's it fights itself.
998. The PC's enter Metrol, and find the old lightning rail station. The inside is presitine. The lighting rail still shocks with electricity. But despite that the place is filled with zombies. None attack the PCs, they file on and off with their luggage.
999. As 996, but with any elemental vessel.
1000. A red glow looms over the horizon, and warped trolls come marching. They meet hordes of other abominations in battle. Will the PC's join for control of the Mournland?
And I will leave 1001 to the OP, or anyone who really wants it...
Heh heh heh. You can bet 998 will be used when the PCs are running from something terrible and take refuge on the (oh so conveniently) arriving lightning rail.
1001.
One morning, the PCs wake up... Dead. They have a (temporary) CON of 0, undead traits and no ability changes. Their speeds are untouched but their skin has a nasty habit of sagging and tearing, and wounds appear much, much worse as the rotting flesh falls apart easily. Their eyes are sunken and glazed white, their hair lank and pale, and their bones press disturbingly through their skin. Maybe a few have claws or a bite, but otherwise everything is normal. Until that foul, decaying flesh stench begins smelling sweet, and a PC realizes he hasn't eaten in a long, long time....
Wow. 1001. It's taken us about 2 years but we're here. This is the first serious "1001 things..." that's reached it and I want to thank everyone who's thrown us a (gnawed upon) bone on this one. May these grant hordes of new readers nightmares for ages to come.
And who's the say the terror by night, pestilence that walketh in darkness, and destruction that wasteth by noonday should stop here?
I think I hear a chittering and gibbering just beyond the next shadow....
EDIT: Apparently that's not possible using the current forum software. Go fig. After 17 months, I'm prepared to say that the ultimate horror in life is technology...
Could it be a vengeful ghost hoping to snare victims?
Does a nobleman keep a candle burning his lost daughter?
Maybe the Tower itself is lonely...
Way to go guys! I'm updating the thread name to reflect your achievement.
EDIT: Apparently that's not possible using the current forum software. Go fig. After 17 months, I'm prepared to say that the ultimate horror in life is technology...
It should be possible. Simply click EDIT on your very first post and click the ADVANCED tab. If you are using the quick edit option (which is what it defaults to if you only click EDIT), it won't let you change the title.
It should be possible. Simply click EDIT on your very first post and click the ADVANCED tab. If you are using the quick edit option (which is what it defaults to if you only click EDIT), it won't let you change the title.
Nope, just seems to change the title of the post, not the thread.
(Or "Kill me," or what have you.)
Artector, you are a gentleman and a rogue.
I would feel bad for stealing the glory.
1004. As they pass through an abandoned city the houses collapse around them, the collective dust from each house forms into a wraith composed of dust.
1006. A pillar of stone stands alongside the road, and an arm and leg jut from it, as if the pillar formed around someone who was desperately running.
1007. Over the course of a mile, all the colors around the PCs become inverted into photographic negative, making it difficult to discern objects clearly due to light shadows and dark light.
1008. An entire family lies dead in the middle of the road, along with the belongings they were carrying as they fled the mists on the Day of Mourning.
1009. As 1008, only all of the soft tissues have been removed, and the bones gleam as if acid-polished.
1010. As 1008, but only the clothes remain, arranged as if their owners had fallen and then vanished.
Could be nothing.
Then the two itches start moving slowly across the PCs' bodies towards each other....
As is or add details to taste:
a) Except for "shadows" on the burned sides where the building is normal - in, of course, the shapes of the inhabitants, going on about their daily lives.
b) The "shadows" move, watching the PCs, pointing, gathering...but only when the PCs aren't looking.
c) The buildings are still smoldering. Stone gives off the occasional "plink" as it cools, and the PCs can still feel warmth radiating from the scorched buildings.
Three days later, the ones failing a Fort save (DC 15? 25? 35?) start losing their hair. And teeth. And fingernails.
My take on the various "blast shadow" horrors.
And, well after they've left - a few subtle hints and Fort saves will have them wondering about cancer.
Don't let me be the one who's murdered this thread.
If they succeed, the weapon they desire rips out of their body, now made of bone and sinew. The weapons drawn in this manner may or may not have the same properties that they had before they dissappeared.
1015: A blind old man offers to lead the party to safety. All he needs is a pair of eyes to see the way, and protection from the monsters on the way.
1016: The blind old man offers to lead the party to safety, all he asks is an arm and a leg.
1017: All the blind old mans asks is for the immortal soul of a party member.
1018: The blind old man is a friend of a cyran party member, who wishes he could help. But he's no longer a young man, like he was a year ago.
1019: The blind old man knows the PCs by name before they introduce themselves. And he's singing the song "Dream a little dream of me". Each night from then on, the party members dream of being chased and eaten by an unidentified horror until they leave the mournland.
1020: As 1019, but a few weeks after leaving the mournland, the old man meets them on the road. He says that he'd like to eat them for real this time, because they tasted so good in their dreams, before transforming into the horror they had dreamed of.
1021: Instead of turning black at night, the sky turns blood red and the stars all look like tiny eyes in the distance. The eyes seem to watch the PCs, most of the time.
1022: Great tears open in the sky, seeming to lead to a realm of darkness. Massive abberations climb across the sky, moving into and out of the tears in the sky.
1023: Monsters, seemingly made of shadows, attack the PCs from thin air, and run by grasping the "sky" behind them and pulling it in front of them like a curtain, vanishing behind the curtain of "sky".
1025: The characters are in the Mournland, they just entered the room with the boss fellow of whatever mission, when before inititive is rolled, you suddenly tell them, "You find yourselves entering the town of (their PC HQ town...sharn or something) and you still feel worn from the fight with (boss guys name they were about to fight). Every once in awhile, someone stops, looks at you, and states, "What have you done?"" Oh, and never go back to the fight before the boss guy or whatnot...
1026: Everytime one of the characters is cut, the blood seeps out of the wound, and attempts to traverse into the characters' own mouth.
1028: Angels, Demons, and Devils walk the Bellestrande Forest of northern Cyre. This deciduous forest has long since died, leaving only the leafless skeletons of trees, curiously scarred with long, deep scratches. The forest has become a Manifest Zone to Shaverath. The trunk of oldest tree in the forest has become a bulging, orange-glowing portal to the plane. Storms of Whirling Blades haunt the woods, and of course, travelers always suffer the depredations of the outsiders from Shaverath, who by some magic are forbidden to leave the forest.
1029: Packs of spectres haunt the enclaves of the Dragonmarked Houses located within the Mournland. They typically ignore visitors, unless one of them happens to have a Dragonmark...
(Do they embrace him lovingly, happy to see a house survivor? Do they beg for release from undeath or a cure? Or are the suspiciously ENRAGED at anyone bearing the Mark of Making? Dm's call)
1031. The PC's hair turns into different materials. Maybe silver for the shifter? Adamantine hair might be very annoying. To be even more evil have one character grow iron hair, then make it rust. (Ooooooooh, Ferroplasm....)
This is far too entertaining a thread to let it languish in the land of the dead...
1032. The PCs come across a mind flayer, sitting by the side of the road with an undamaged skull sitting on the ground in front of it as it weeps noisily. If it sees the PCs before they see it, it trows itself at them - and begs for forgiveness. It seems the mind-twisting nature of the Mournlands has taken this particular illithid down the path to wanting to redeem itself for the evils it has inflicted in the past. As to whether this change of heart will last if it leaves the Mournlands... Well, DM's call.
1033. It begins to rain blood, mucus, and spittle; after the party finds shelter, the rain gets stronger, lasting the whole night through; in the morning, it seems that trees of bone covered with skin have grown where the bizarre and disgusting rain fell on the ground.
1034. A trio of heads. They all seem to be alive, and indeed they're extremely glad to see travelers. Their bodies, they explain, are 'elsewhere', having 'wandered off without them'. Should the PCs choose to help them look for their bodies, or just carry them around, they all begin to feel an occasional itching sensation around their necks...
1035. Several flesh golems, only rather than being made of sewn-together cadavers, each golem is made from a specific part of a number of bodies - one is a nightmarish humanoid mass of wadded and crumpled skin, another seems to be nothing but muscles, another is made of cracked and jumbled bones, and so on.
Unfortunately, the first is dead, and the others are too petrified with fear to disturb him.
1037) The PCs enter a tavern filled with raucous locals singing, dancing and having a great time. They're encouraged to join in the festivities. In the midst of the merriment, the PCs distinctly hear a faint whimper of terror from somewhere beneath the floor. The revellers seemingly pay no attention, but the singing and dancing gets louder. Soon afterwards, they hear a muffled scream. The revelry rises to a crescendo, as if to block out anything else. By now, the PCs can't hear each other talk, but can just make out an ongoing shriek of extreme agony.
If the PCs ask what's happening, the bartender and other revellers will deny they heard anything. Any attempts to go downstairs are forcibly rebuffed by the tavern guards. A successful Diplomacy, Intimidate or display of steel finally persuades the bartender to reveal what's happening. The screaming victim had, like many others, been physically modified for experiments in humanoid-warforged reproduction; the latest 'great' plan from the Lord of Blades.
After revealing this, the PCs notice that the merriment has stopped, and everyone's looking at them with cold, blank stares. The bartender says "Since we can't allow our secret to escape - you're next!"
The next minuet the character turns his head away from the corpse and looks back he finds the body gone and all that remains is the sudden dread for the person the PC saw.
1040: This is a direct rip-off, so I won't go into much detail unless requested. The Sci-Fi Mini-Series 'The Lost Room'. Have a room in in an inn be the "Lost Room", mundane items from that room manifest unique abilities, but do not detect as magical. (Ex: A Lightning Rail ticket that when it is touched to a persons head (such a direct rip-off
) they appear at the Metrol Lightning Rail Station. The 'Lost Room' could be placed in the 'time' of just prior to the Mourning striking the room. I just thought this would be an excellent overlap between the TV series and Cyre.Hope you enjoy.
Bykov.
1042) There were buildings frozen in mid-explosion, the shattered wood and mortar hanging in midair. You could move the floating debris. It was incredible when applied to a dinner table. The persons seated at the table were also frozen mid-explosion, and the shockwave had vaporized one end of the table, but stopped just stort of the head of the table, so at one end, you had clouds of blood and bones, and at the other, you had a horrified corpse with a look of terror frozen on its face. It was a neat effect to touch a blood drop in midair and have it stick to your finger.
1043) The half-elf tryst-knot. A naked half-elf couple, killed during coitus, are melded together in the spoon position. She was wearing a lovely necklace, and their attempt to investigate (not loot) the necklace made her eyes vice open and she started screaming at the top of her lungs. They ran out of the room and sealed the doors shut. They heard screaming and smashing, saw the door breaking from inside (a 6 inch thick wood door mind you) and they readied themselves for a fight, and as the doors exploded open!...............
the girl (still attached to her lover) was lying on the bed, motionless and dead.
They never went near that room again.
1044) The one guy was on watch while the other slept and illusory crickets covered everything in the room. No one else could see them.
mwahahahah Artector, you are a gentleman and a rogue.
I have a desire to sig this now.
1046.* In the center of the Glass Plains the PCs find a perfect jewel. Casters who hold the gem feel a surge of power [mechanically, unslotted +4 to caster level]. However, they are constantly attacked by souls, every time they cast a spell a horrid wailing follows and the gem gains a crack. If the PCs divine the origin of the gem they are visited by a ghost, he wails about his family, and how many of them have been lost, he begs the PCs to free them, and never cast from the gem.
If the PCs break the gem they hear a thousand howls of pain erupt. If any bodies are near [the DM should put some near] they are howling, and all wear the same family crest.
--Basic idea, based off FMA's Alchemist's stone. Took a whole family and trapped their souls within the stone.
*Might not qualify as a Mourland Horror, but I like it.
1048. A Three-Dragon Ante deck, the cards scattered inside some ruined building. It seems normal at first, but slight details seem off - colors somewhat odd, and a vaguely disquieting feel to the cards and the paints. Careful examination, or taking the cards beyonf the Dead Grey Mists, will reveal why: the cards are made from skin, and the paints have a base of blood and tears, all of which begin to rot as normal when taken beyond the mists.
1049. A scrawny cat slinking among the ruins of a farm; it is an ordinary cat, untouched by the curse of the Mournlands, but it has survived by eating the dead bodies of the farm's former owners, and may have developed a taste for that kind of flesh.
1050. A pillar formed of still-liquid water rises from the ground; the water is actually able to mimic the effects of goodberry wine for those who drink directly from it, but at the cost of nightmarish vision for the next several days, striking without warning; the visions can range from seeing a person the character once knew being murdered to seeing the Mourning touch the area around the character to seeing some unfathomable, horrific event - the Silver Flame being consumed by a creeping darkness, an immense monster toppling the towers of Sharn as the beast awakens, or perhaps even the moons falling from the skies in meteoric strikes that make the Mourning look like nothing.
They pc's pass through a town that everyone is rather chipper and happy. And each evening all the villiagers line up in the villiage to a large platform on which they are executed, when the pcs try to stop them, they scream at them madly trying to get back into line, and if they stay there over night, the pc's waked to find everyone in the villiage is how they were the day before, without a mark or anything on them, and when the pc's try to stop the executor, It looks exactly like one of the pc's
Bykov.
I remember reading in this thread that every poster should try to make some kind of contribution, so I humbly offer these for consideration...
1053.
The party is skirting the edge of a seemingly normal forest. The only obvious abnormality is that the leaves appear to be in full autumn blaze, regardless of the season. Suddenly, a wind seems to whip up the leaves in the trees (though the PCs feel nothing themselves) and the leaves fly off and attack the party as a swarm (doing damage to each PC as a stirge inflicting blood drain). As they 'feed', the colors on the leaves becomes ever more vibrant...
1054.
The party is trekking through an area of rough, highland-style terrain, when they spot figures on a nearby rise. The figures appear backlit by the dim light, so no details can be seen other than their cloaks/robes billowing behind them in the wind. There is no wind to speak of around the area though.
If the PCs investigate, the procession appears to be a group of monks walking in meditation. Their 'cloaks' are actually their own skins blowing in a nonexistant breeze, barely connected to the remaining sinew and muscle of their bodies. They see the PCs and smile knowingly...
1055.
While crossing a plain, the party spies some kind of structure in the distance, standing in stark contrast to the featureless flatland around it. Upon investigation, it appears to be a henge made out of 12 massive stones, embedded with Eberron Dragonshards. There is an irregular hole in each stone, and floating in the center of each hole is one of the 12 Dragonmarks. It appears that the Marks are made of water, and are being continuously fed from channels (like those formed from water flowing over time) leading from the bottom of each hole to the ground. Tear-shaped droplets 'fall' from the edge of the holes and coalesce into the Marks. A faint sound of weeping can be heard from inside the henge once the PCs get within 5 feet of a stone.
If the PCs enter the circle of stones, they see 12 bodies laid out at the base of each stone. Their heads point towards the stones and their arms are folded across their chests. The bodies are of races that correspond to the various Marks. Tears flow down their cheeks, then flow up the channels in the stones to eventually merge with their Marks.
Observant PCs will notice that the circle of stones is actually not complete - there is a space that is just the right size to accomodate a thirteenth stone, and the ground where it would be looks disturbed...
I am, Simply,
The Dalesman
1067: A destroyed town, just as any other in the forsaken land. As they pass through the PCs catch glimpses of small shadows of oddly shaped hummanoids. Eventually a group of wooden puppets all carrying smaller puppets on strings jaunts boldy up to the party. They all have hair thin strings trailing up into the clouds. They ominously follow the party and should they try to rest in the town the puppets will try to tie strings around their hands and feet.
1059: Some rats found these Stones of Warping or whatever they are and gnawed on them; they have since mutated into nasty, prolific humanoid rat-men divided into different clans and festering in the dark underground where no one even knows they exist. Yet. ;^)
- Ron ^*^
Finally the Character starts having visions of these things happening to his loved ones or companions, which start to come true...
_______________________________
A mp3 can be downloaded at this location:
http://nwvault.ign.com/View.php?view=Sounds.Detail&id=68311&id=517
1065: Mundain items don't want to work. ex: Waterskin leeks, oil wont catch fire, or better yet flint\thinderstwigs don;t work.
1064: Dragonmarked characters make fort saves, if they fail the dragonmarks fall off and will ''regrow'' once outside the Mornlands.
i love this idea but what is the DC ?
1066.maybe finding dragon scales talons or such that fell off when the Mourning occured just a thought (an evil one of course).
1067:"The landscape revealed was devastating! It looked like it was melted and hardned again in a matter of seconds. And a black sun......"
1069: As one of players heal, the scar is covered in scales(fur in they have scales naturally).
1070: Weapons cry out in pain as you strike enemies with them.
1072. A mad aundarian wizard with his transformed (evil) elves assualt the party. (FYI, the elves are drow).
1074. It begins to rain thin slivers of bloodied steel. The party might want to take shelter under something very, very solid while it lasts...
1075. The party comes to the edge of a strange lake that seems to be composed sand of a sort - it flows like water, shifting and surging in the moaning wind, but clearly isn't a liquid - a handful of it, inspected, is plainly a handful of extremely fine sand.
1078. Impossibly aged humans laugh and carry on amoung the fresh seeming corpses of a once battlefield. They kick leather stitched balls, ragged dolls, and other childrens bobbles.
1079. A sharp, harsh wind sweeps past the PCs, causing them to shield there eyes from the glass-like sand blowing past them. If they peek through their fingers, or have some form of protective eyewear, they see perfect and fully a pre-mourning seen, seemingly blowing past on the wind.
1080. Stretching accross a black, brackish streem, seemingly flowinging wigh locust-chum, is a well maintained covered bridge. When one attemps to cross the bridge, it invariably returns them to the side they just attempted leaving. Do to the barren surroundings, it may take one a moment or two to recognize that they have been turned around. Anyone wanting to cross the stream must not use the bridge.
1081: An area where time stutters. All actions must be repeated 1d4 times in exactly the same way. Same spell gets cast 4 times (does not take up more spell slots) firing at the same square the target was originally in. Takes a little imagination to make it work, the person just does the same thing and the spell goes in the same "direction" and may hit a new target. Anything that uses up a consumable (like arrows or drinking a potion) does NOT use up the consumable, but it does have its effect.
1082: Perceptions shift, all character see out of the eyes of the nearest, randomly chosen if more than one person is nearby.
1083: Damage feels good, healing feels bad. I describe the giggling stabs and scraping heals. Will Save (DC 15) to willingly allow yourself to be healed, otherwise the caster must make a touch attack.
1084: A camp of sentient non-combat spells. Imagine a living "wall of stone" spell (always moving like a snake) and so forth. Non-angry spells who are fearful of humanoids and have no way to communicate.
1086. In a torn and busted arena the ghosts of those who died in battle there roar and shout for the combatants fighting: A horde of living spells.
1087. The PCs wake up one morning to find that the world is upside down! Although they do not fall any unattended items do.
1088. As above except the colors are inverted thematicly, if not literaly. IE the sun is black, clouds are blue and the sky is white.
1090. The PCs begin to itch for no apparent reason; after a few days, one breaks their skin while scratching and finds hair-like tendrils of moss growing beneath the skin...
The next morning, one of the players notices a small bud growing from a patch of skin the creature touched. Its tip has lines that resemble pursed lips...
remember if anyone wants this just send me an email with your request and ill get out to you asap.
1093: It begins to snow, even though the temperature is actually quite warm. More, the snow is cold, crisp, and white, but does not melt, instead gathering in freezing drifts.
1094: As above, but reversed; the air is bitterly cold, but rain with the warmth of summer spills from above, refusing to freeze as it puddles and flows.
1095: A strange creature, wandering through the waste; humanoid in form, covered in brilliant scarlet fur, as well as having the head and tail of a fox, it - he - mutters as he walks, wandering among various languages. The gist seems to be that he feels cheated, that someone destroyed Cyre before he could...
1096: A large, low hill of dust and ash actually proves to be a layer of soot over something; if the party tries to clear it, it turns out to be a dragon of sorts, although strange by the standards of most draconic life, with scales the color of gleaming mithril, sound asleep in a dreamless state that seems to defy waking it.
1097: A bizarre construct, seeming made from a Warforged torso and dozens of arms and legs; it shambles across the ground unevenly, seemingly unaware of anything around it.
1098: An almost perfectly smooth, perfectly round pillar of solid black stone, rising over a hundred feet in height and slowly tapering to a needle point; a single crack mars it from top to bottom, and dark blood slowly oozes from the fracture.
1099: What was once the central square of a town, with the fountain still working. However, instead of water, the fountain spouts equal parts blood and tears, which do not mix, creating a disquieting, ever-shifting pool of clear and red liquids.
1100: A warforged stands atop a steep hill, surrounded by tendrils of the mists; if the party attempts to speak with him, he will indicate that he is infused with the mists as a part of his living essence, and makes hints that the mists are truly formed of the spirits or lifeforce of those who were taken by the Mourning.
1101: In the ruins of The Royal palace at Metrol, rests the body of the king, it isn’t rotting (or maybe it is it depends on you), he is sitting in his throne and seems to be writing a letter that is dated in the day of the mourning, the letter beguines with “I’m Sorry…"
How about a bit of Royalty
1101: In the ruins of The Royal palace at Metrol, rests the body of the king, it isn’t rotting (or maybe it is it depends on you), he is sitting in his throne and seems to be writing a letter that is dated in the day of the mourning, the letter beguines with “I’m Sorry…"
Nothing in the Mournland decays, so the king would, indeed, not be rotten. Unless of course part of the real worry is that in a land where corpses that are years old are still as if freshly slain, the king is actually well into decaying away...
1102: The party encounters a house constructed with vones lashed together with sinew. It may or may not be inhabited.
In that case I would have things that seem like hills, only that their massive mounds of piled corpses, warforged, undying and goblinoid alike.
A wall of stacked weapons, pointed outwards towards the oncoming adventurers, and where-ever they move the points all follow...
Constant fogbanks that change the landscape. They make camp, fog sets in, they wake up and theres a huge chasm that has just been ripped through the ground. They hear that while they sleep of course.
Screw around with what they believe to be directions... intuit directions fail, sun is either blocked out or goes the wrong way.
1104. When the party arises, they see that every high surface around their encampment has a single vulture, staring at them. The vultures don't move unless disturbed, but just watch them get ready to depart. If the vultures are killed or driven off, nothing further happens, otherwise the vultures trail them throughout the day, and the next night, the entire party is affected by a Nightmare spell. This process continues, with at least four vultures required per party member to cast the Nightmare spell, requiring the party to find a way to kill off enough of them that they cannot continue this assault. Individual vultures have the stats of Ravens.
BUAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Go Discworld
1107) A tattered, ratty shrine to the Silver Flame, with a blood-soaked sacrificial altar and a corroded sacrificial knife sitting atop it.
1108) On cresting a small ridge, the party finds themselves looking down into a small impact crater; the lower half is filled with a thick, tar-like fluid, and rising from this is an array of large crystals, shimmering all the colors of the rainbow. Dimly visible within the gelaming crystals are the shapes of humanoids, all seemingly asleep...
1109) A shattered ruin that looks somewhat like a Riedran monolith, if one were subjected to a horrific backlash of power.
1110. Someone in the party finds tiny holes to Xoriat
in their blanket.I'm the one who tried to keep track of this wonderful list of pure insanity a year or more back, and i offered to send the list to people.
I've been away from these boards for a very long time, and haven't kept up on anything at all. So..
I hereby apologize to all those people whose messages have been waiting in here for me to come and read them.
I apologize to those who wrote me, to get me to send them an updated list.
And I apologize for the fact that I no longer have one.
I hope no one died or got pregnant because of that ;) I would have known if the world blew up on that account, so no apologies in that direction.
Greetings and hails from a Missekat returned.
1112) The party comes across a huge and hideously bloated warforged; its stone and metal plating is bent and cracked by the swollen, fibrous cords and strange organic membranes that bulge from its joints and abdomen. Its head is still normal but it now sits on the distended mess of oily cording that was its neck, its small eyes flicker with a fitful green light as it surveys the cratered battlefield in which it rests.
It is only after drawing near that it can be seen that the creature clutches a half eaten corpse to its chest, a mewling whisper escaping from the gaping, toothy maw of its unusually large and unhinged mouth. Despite the appearance of the PCs it doesn't seem to react and continues staring into space, gory drool oozing and dripping onto its grotesque belly and staining the ground around it.
If the party chooses to listen, they can make out language in the wet, mewling whispering. A pidgin of giant, common and draconic the whispered message sounds mad but vaguely prophetic.
(ala Pink Floyd's "The Wall")
I don't just mean exchanging spores, I mean these flowers are ****ing the **** out of each other!
1113) Any character capable of casting or activating a mark, etc, etc. a spell or ability like leomund's secure shelter, mordenkainen's magificent mansion, etc. should have it function appropriately (i.e. people can heal naturally, since it's an extradimensional space, no one can see the entrance, etc.) for the first two or three times that it is used (for shorter trips into the Mournland, ignore that requirement). One time, when it's used, they go to sleep, and have one player wake up with a clutch of unseen servants hovering over them. They can't see them, but they can feel their presence. When the player leaves their room to go to another room in the mansion, the door opens into a vast grey void in all directions...including up and down. Their room is a little cube in a vast nothing. Move on to the next terrified player and tell him a similar story of waking, or maybe a noise awakens them. When they go outside, the hallway is intact, but all the torches are out, and the hallway is streaked with blood, some of it still wet. The stairs down into the main area where the front door is are completely broken on one side, and on the other side lead into complete darkness (let no natural or magical abilities penetrate into this, not even blindsense).
The unseen servants never did anything, they just followed them or scattered randomly. When they tried to leave, every servant in the house lined up in front of the hallway to the door, and stacked all the way back to the door, impeding movement. They wouldn't move, and couldn't be moved, so they had to find some way to kill them. This was, of course, after two players had lost themselves in the grey void, and another player (along with an NPC sleeping in the same room as him) smashed their way through the floor of their room because of the void outside, and ended up in a room that was, when they fell asleep, adjacent to them (and now empty of the two players lost in the void).
They think twice about using extradimensional spaces in the Mournland now. They had a rope trick that wouldn't open, and the air started running out. I keep all the stuff as written, even the stuff that makes the Mournland "weaker"...I just use the Mournland to make it a really bad idea.
Oh, and one character effectively died when they wandered into a room in the bloody hallway that was composed of the darkness that couldn't be penetrated and couldn't find a way back. Technically, the character is still alive in that void in a now-expired magnificent mansion, but the void itself it outside of reality. They had a ring of sustenance, so that's not a problem. The room removed all motor functions, and all senses. Basically all you can do is think, without any sensory input. The best part is, she wandered in with rope tied around her waist, and another player in the hall, and then when the rope never went taught, they pulled her back out. So she decided to fly in with a fly spell, and...well, it was a Strength check on the rope, and the guy holding it failed.
Oh.. and just ignore it if this has been posted, and I missed it..
1114
The party has succesfully navigated and survived the Mournland, and is back in civilisation.. but something isn't right.. they keep having nasty flasbacks containing disturbing images from their trips to the broken husk of once proud Cyre.
F.ex: If they found the weeping stone statue of the mother shielding the child in the middle of the dirt road, touching any stone statue even slightly resembling that horror from the Mournland, will trigger a flashback that shows what happened during the cataclysm, seen from the eyes of the mother. Even if the resemblance is only in texture of stone. The FB's will incapacitate the character for 1d4 rounds while occuring.
These flashbacks will increase in frequency and soon nightmares will follow, giving penalties to Con. And of course making it difficult for spellcasters to replenish their spells.
Soon the characters will start talking with each other about the nightmares and find that they are all exactly alike. (Use your imagination.. you know your players best and can push they buttons the best :D ).
The climax of this little nasty should be triggered when they all, tired and drained wake to find that they are still.. in the Mournland, and utterly lost.
Feel free to place them anywhere they fear the most, be it in the arms of a dead loved one, in a heap of their dead company from the war, (the one they ran from and thus survived the mourning), or just beside the glowing chasm.. of course you shouldn't place them somewhere that will outright kill them.
I plan to fling this little baddie at my players. They are SO going to hate me :angelhide
1115) While exploring a battlefield occupied by the usual un-decayed corpses the PCs come across a Cyran soldier who has been pined to the ground by a longsword shoved through his gut. This soldier is still alive but dying, in a great deal of pain, and knows that he doesn't have a long time left to live. His dying wish is for the PCs to take a letter he has written to his daughter, a young Cannith artificer living in Sharn as of the Day of Mourning. Lacking a proper writing tool the soldier has inked the message in his own blood.
If the PCs attempt to heal the soldier, of course their healing magic won't work.
If the PCs attempt to remove the sword pinning the man to the ground the sword cannot be removed by any means.
If the PCs offer to put the soldier out of his misery (if there is a cleric present willing to give him last rites he will beg for release) any fatal wounds delt will close withing seconds of his death and he will begin to moan in agony once again with no memory of any previous encounter.
An idea for a followup: if the PCs track the man's daughter she will burst into tears upon seeing the letter. As it turns out the PCs are not the only brave souls to have met a dying soldier in the Mournlands, this is not the first letter she has received over the years, nor is it the first time she has been told by a sympathetic adventurer that her father is doomed to live the tortured existence of the dying; forever denied his final rest.
If you want to be particularly cruel, if any of the PCs are Cyran they might know the man and his daughter from before the Day of Mourning...
1118.) The Party meets a strange duo on the road to *wherever they were headed*One, a handsome young man strumming a lute and gaily humming a tune. He's dressed well and comfortably and seemingly has no qualms with the tortured landscape around him. The other, attached to the first by a frayed rope leash, is a disfigured and tortuous man of sorts. Sickly pallid skin is cracked and bruised, cut and burned. Bones, with unnatural points and sharpened curves have been shunted out of its' body at horrifying angles. It stumbles along, being tugged by the rope round it's bleeding muscular throat, broken hands covered with poorly stitched wounds shield a moaning face from their sight. The First man adresses you...
"Why hello there! Fancy meeting someone else round here." Turning to regard the monster behind him, "Isn't that grand Thatch?" The creature screams miserably but does not say anything nor reveal its' face. "I'd say so too, grand indeed" Continues the first "What are a couple of fit young fellows like yourself doing all the way out here? Enjoying the scenic route to town no doubt!
He introduces himself as grinner and continues merrily in conversation from there for as long as the PC's will have him. Any mention of the mournland, day of mourning or his companion being "abnormal" in any way is met with the strong assertion that the PC's are being "exceedingly rude on an otherwise fine day"
Hooray! I'm not alone! :D
Have a, Machina, for restoring my faith in Horror.
Machina......machina.........now that's a word I've not heard in a long time.........
Ya... someone knows all about Grinner... don't they?
:P.........!!!
When did you get here?!?!?!
I've been subscribed to this thread since page 3... :P
. These may or may not have been posted before, but here it goes:1119) The PCs are approached by another traveling party while heading to exit the mournland. The other group is obviously another adventuring party, which the PCs have never met before. This group hails the PCs as friends when they come near, and ask how things have been going. The group will tell them their adventuring stories as if old friends, and will ask what happened to the rest of the PC's group. obviously, the PCs never had any group besides themselves, and asking about why the other group knows thing like PC names, and is familiar with the party, the other adventurers will look surprised, and say that this is in fact the fifth meeting they have had with the PCs in the mournland, but the PCs have no recollection of the incidents.
The other group insists that there were companions the PCs took along with them into the mournland, and when the PCs express no knowledge of this, the others get a little nervous, and eventually decide to leave rather than sticking with the party.
In truth, the PCs did take hirelings into the mournland and have met with these people before, and maybe again outside the mournland. This group was frightened by the fact that somewhere near half of the group they met up with do not remember anything. Accounts of towns the players visited before entering will say that the party entered with a good sum of hirelings. The party will not regain any memory of meeting the other party the first four times, or the hirelings.
1120) first, before the party ever enters the mournland, they stay an extended while in a small village. Get to know people, find friends, and good quaint place.
After sending a few illusory horrors to the PCs in the mournland have them eventually come back to that town. With all the same people, who laugh when it is mentioned that they are in the mournland when first told, thinking it a joke, a typical response afterwards will be "what are you talking about? We’re in country XYZ!” the PCs won't get anyone to realize the truth or the mist or anything to make them leave the village with the PCs. back outside the mournland, the PCs can look for the town they visited to meet with old friends or see if the town is okay.
They will never find that town again.
If a character with ranks in forgery examines any of the letters for a short time they realize they were all written by a Party member who has no knowledge of writing these, any magical means of determining if they were written by the player or when show that they will be written by them but not yet...
1122) Thousands of tiny white threads-like things fly through the air, a soft and barely audible hum is heard. The things cover the closest living creatures and begin to burrow into it. The pain causes the targets to pass out. They wake up latter and find that there is no sign of the things. This encounter works best if you place a lower level monster near the PC's at the time, when they awaken the creature's head seems to have exploded and there are spots on it's skin with traces of something having erupted from within.
1123) Thousands of vermin begin swarming to one point slowly forming a large humanoid.
Drawn by unexplainable ghostly moans and hint of morbid curiosity, the party enters the tunnel, which is no longer the 40 feet, and see something pale, something almost human, scamper on the sealing before the lantern falls, nearly crushing a character and casting the the tunnel into a shadowy half-light.
Distracted, they hear only the scampering of soiled feet scampering along the ceiling like a spider.
Some rubble falls.
Spot check, please.
Then, nothing. Nothing at all.
I read all of these like a week ago before I went to bed and I was scared =(.
I'm doing this now...
Am I a fool? Am I a brave man?
Am I an adventurer?
1126) The PC's come across a naked man kneeling on the ground, facing the pal rising sun. He is long dead, but as usual, not rotted. His face is upturned towards the sky and his eyes are still red and puffy from where he was crying when he died. His arms are spread apart, in one hand he holds a dagger, in the other he holds his still beating heart...
1127) In the distance, the PC's can see a lone siege tower in the midst of a battle field. Upon coming closer, they can see that a warforged has stripped many of the surrounding dead soldiers of their skin. He has laid the skins out to cure for leather, and is tacking the cured humanoid skin onto his siege tower.
1129) As the PCs pass through the dead gray mist of the Mournland it covers them. That is usual though its mist. But when they are in the Mournland the mist congeals on their bodies as an ooze. The moment they scrape some off it "grows" back. It eventually covers their entire body until they look like gray blobs. That's when they hear it speak to them.
Unfortunately, I lost access to the old account in the migration. Despite coming "out" here, I actually like the fresh start, as I was quite a whiner when I first came to these boards...
Anyway, I just wanted to say that I'm happy people are still contributing to the thread with real quality horrors, even 30 months after it started. I love this thread and you guys. Keep it up!
This is in fact a elaborate trap, although Detect Magic or other identifying spells fail to show any effects of any kind throughout the town. The food, drinks, and supplies are all laced with knockout powder. When the PCs awake from their slumber they find that they are stripped of all food and beverages they had on them although this may not be readily apparent because the PCs are encased in a very strong Web in the middle of a dark damp cave. And then they hear scampering............
The PC's cannot sleep. Everytime they shut their eyes, they are assalted by visions of ghosts and spirits banging on the back of ther eyelids, trying to get out. This goes on for days and days. Everyone is irritable, cranky and exhuasted, and then the hallucinations begin...
As to what the individual party sees, and how it works in gameplay, thats up to the DM.
Thanks for the scare.
P.S. I will use fourteen pages of these in my games:D
Since the Mournland is such a strange and twisted place:
1136: The party enters a small village. Most of it is pretty well leveled, save for a small building that looks like a saloon. There's a light inside. When the party enters to investigate, they see dogs sitting at a large table playing a popular card game.
1137: While walking along a road, the party comes upon a bag full of trinkets. While looting, they find, among other nice baubles and shiny, a snow globe of Cyre. When shaken, a swarm of glitter swirls around the inside of the globe. The result is up to the DM. Preferrably, a freak snowstorm sweeps across the land #Dx minutes/hours later.
If the PC's apologize and talk to the "baby" they find out that on the day of Mourning, the woman and her baby swapt bodies, but kept their individual minds. They have been living like this for months/years.
P.S. I'm glad to see others have taken weeks out of their lives to read this thread. Even better is there are more contributors, I was getting bored with just having my own post on here every week. Thanks for keepin this thread goin everyone!
Also, if you want to keep with a gravity theme, use a pack of Gravbeasts (see Monster Mayhem in the retired articles of WoTC), or the Gravorg on pg 119 of the MM2.
the crab should then have an intuitive understanding of what way were up due to living there for so long.
That's right, he'd know where you were gonna be moving to before you did! That's what would make it so interesting.
1139) While crossing the the Field of Elementals (north of the Glass Plateau) the party comes to a field of what appears to be the preserved dessicated corpses of hundreds of creatures rangeing from humanoids, monstrous humanoids, aberrations and other creatures twisted by the effects of the Mournland. Also moving about are an almost equal number of water elementals, moving amoung the corpses. A bit further away they can see a swirling aura of red and blue light. The party has stepped into the playground of a living Extract Water Elemental spell.
Oh wow. That is fantastically evil DMing right there.
Oh wow. That is fantastically evil DMing right there.
I know, thats the charm of the Mournland, extremely horrendous fields of things to totally screw the party. There don't have to be that many water elementals though, I just really like the Extract Water Elemental spell. This kind of encounter would definatly be for higher level parties.
1140) After a particularly rough day trekking through the Mournland, the party decides to make camp in a seemingly peaceful looking glade. The trees and plants are normal, uneffected by the Mourning, and there are cute little critters scampering about (rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks etc) Everything here is exactly as it seems, no illusions or anything, and if they can catch the animals, they are perfectly safe to eat. Once they decide to turn in, everyone falls asleep, even the posted guard, thanks to a living Sleep Spell that just happens to wander through.
Unbeknownst to the party, another spell travels across their camp in the night. When they awake in the morning, the party members stretch their legs, twitch their tails and begin to groom themselves...Oh wait, was that a Living Baleful Polymorph spell that moved through camp last night?
(This assumes that the party fails their Fort saves to become cute little furry animals. :D ) Also, as a side note, if some of the party saves against the spell, the DM should slip in the fact that, oh, probably the animals they ate last night for dinner were at one point...people. Insert evil Dm laugh:D
By the way, I know this isn't the right type of spell for a living spell. I don't see this as an engulfing living spell, more like a psudopod using living spell, since Baleful Polymorph is a single target spell.
Upon looking into the pieces of glass, the individual character dong the looking is sucked into a fragment of time, and into the body of someone in Cyre on the Day of Mourning. They have no control over the body whatsoever, but they see everything. They now have to live out 24hrs, or nearly that, and the last day of the person whos body they are trapped in, as the disaster of the Mourning unfolds around them. Once the period of time is played out, they are transported back to their bodies. Only a few seconds have passed and they now must save against a despair effect or some similar demoralizing condition.
1142) The party arrives at a (rather) Large wall of dead bodies emitting from the wall of corpses are the voices of men, women, children, elf, dwarf, human and etc. calling out "help me." "Where am I." "I don't want to be here." as well as mourning, crying, and wailing now the limbs that can be seen still move as if alive now if the party should investigate (meaning they have no idea they're dead) the limbs attempt to grab them with the voices going "Yes....yes.....your sacrifice will release us from this prison." while limbs nearby hold spectral daggers (I was thinking Will save to see the knives are illusions if they fail they die and become part of the wall) if they don't X# of Cadaver Collectors appear and attack the party if one of the players die their corpse is picked up by one of the cadaver collectors and heaped upon the wall becoming part of the wall itself. This also leads to a interesting Plot hook what is the wall for why do the Cadaver Collectors add to it who is ordering them to?
1143) This is based off several others I have seen but the players tumble upon a large battle field where the long since dead combatants still rage battle if the players should be near the spirits will attack regardless of what nation the players come from because the spirits will see them as the enemy when they "kill" one of the ghosts the ghost will say "Thank you....." and depart with a eerie whistle.
1144) Idea for a BBEG have a once proud noble cursed by the mournlands (blessed to him) into a Vampire now not just any vampire one who is immune to daylight and doesn't need to feed but does so for the pleasure of it to make more Vampires who also are immune to sunlight and don't need to feed. he sits upon a throne of the skulls and severed heads of all those that opposed him deep within a cathedral made of bones and skin. His vampric armies partol the area of his "kingdom" on the look out for more victims and for a item. The item is said to allow him and his armies safe passage out of the mournlands since their curse forbids them from leaving the mournlands yet the vampire wishes to conquer the entire world. Now the item could or could not exist depending how you want the campaign but regardless of your choice the Vampire believes it exists and has his minions searching for it night and day.
1145) The party comes to a large field with warforged heads rest on large gruesome pikes. as the party passes them a demonic wind passes through playing a most haunting melody through heads as they go deeper they see torn Warforged bodies and parts, severed living creatures head, torns corpses and whole corpses gruesome weapons and armor lay everywhere. at the end is a large lake within the lake is more Warforged parts and dead living creatures bodies at the center of the lake is a large tree miles tall upon it lay a hundred or so warforged, humans, elves, dwarves, etc. bodies nailed impaled etc. to the tree in a most gruesome fashion
These are some of the ideas inside the chaotic realm of my mind :D
1148) (since it's christmas eve :D) Have the party stumble upon a pleasant little town filled with joy and laughter unaware of the evil they have walked into too once they go to bed for the night the citizens of the town turn into horrible demons, undead, and monsters.......the only present the pcs will get is death :D
1149) After trudging through the deep snow for days on end, having to deal with the harsh weather, biting winds and bitter nights, not to mention the frozen monstrosities, they happen upon a quaint little town. The chimneys are smoking and the houses are decorated with (appropriate Winter themed holiday). There are humanoid footprints crisscrossing the town, but the inhabitants are no where to be found. The houses are empty, yet it looks like someone was just there the instant before the door was opened. Fires roar in the fireplaces, hot food and drink are set out on tables and beds are made up nicely. Everything looks happy and joyous, except for one thing maring the image of the town. In front of each house, are horrible looking snowmen. The tracks of children circle each one, like it was built only minutes before.
The snowmen wear fierce scowls or snarling mouths. Their eyes are still burning coals that do not melt the snow. There noses are broken and jagged pieces of wood or glass and their stick arms are raised in manacing or threatening ways. They wear black scarfs around their necks and the snow that makes up their bodies are splashed in blood. As the PC's take note of the unsettling snowmen, they hear the voices of children chanting a rhyme:
When the days grow long
And the nights grow old
Beware the Snowman
He brings the cold.
As the ghostly rhyme dies away, every snowman in the town animates and converges on the PC's. Treat the snowmen as Medium Ice Paraelementals, with cold slam attaks instead of icicles. Depending on the DM, you could also add more cold based attacks and abilities, like a frosty breath weapon or fast healing when in a foot or more of snow etc.
This next one I kinda borrowed from another thread. Props to the creator of that thread if he ever reads this!
1150) Pilaging a wrecked town, the PC's stumble into the gallows arena. Apparently this city had a lot of crime when it was functioning, becuase the gallows platform is extremely long. At least 24 hangsmens nooses sway in the breeze atop the gallows. But wait, there is no breeze... The nooses then animate, untieing themselves from the gallows, and slithering onto the ground, noose end up like a rope cobra. The nooses shift and contort, crying out with the begging screams of all those who died, their necks broken or lives strangled out of them. They now seek to extract that same dying, choking scream as they strangle the life from the Pc's.
1152) Dead men picking through the battlefields. If approached and asked what they are doing, they reply that they are searching for their obviously missing body parts.
1153) Animated piles of broken and burned childrens toys. Dolls and other toys with human anotomies cry out in pain when the piles are struck.
1154) Oil slicks that float ten feet in the air, covering miles of area, blacking out the sun. Oozes, corrupt and undead water elementals and filth creatures seem drawn to these places.
1155) At night, when trying to hide from the terrors of the Mournland, the light of the moon breaks through the dead grey mist, but only to shine a single bright shaft of light upon where you are hiding. It follows you as you move.
1157) A town where all the people seem to be made of water
1158) Twisted Amalgams of several animals roam the Mournland. You can't tell where one animal begins and the others start. They are pathetic looking but still dangerous, their tortured minds reflecting their tortured forms. If you'd want to actually have PC's fight these creatures, I'd say use Pseudonatural Chimera, just to cover the weirdness and the mixture of animals into one body. Maybe even the multiheaded template.
1159) A miles long fence, only a few inches high circles in on itself. Inside lies a graveyard with untold numbers of miniature headstones over mini graves. A massive cadaver collector seems to be digging more graves and then placing objects inside. If approached it speaks to the party (awakened & initial attitude of friendly) and can be seen to be holding a large number of headstones and wooden, featureless dolls. When the dolls are placed inside the graves they take on the features of the person whose name is on the headstone. The gravedigger somberly, in the tones of an undertaker, explains that he knows the name of every person who died in The Mourning and is building this cemetary as a monument to them. He willingly tells the PCs if any named individual died at that time (he does not know if the person is alive or dead unless killed in that singular event). He is willing, with a DC 20 diplomacy check, to dig up and lend out dolls from the graves to family of the deceased (and family only). The dolls can be activated with a command word to point the direction of the corpse they resemble. The caretaker expects the dolls to be returned when the PCs are finished and is able to locate them (the dolls not the PCs) at will.
1161) A army of warforged with odd body parts (like chains for hands, swords for legs etc.) they are seeking more material from which to make more of their unique kind.
1162) A field of blood red stones that constantly emit voices of those lost in the mourning
1163) A field of dead bodies as well as ruin Warforged when anything alive passes through the dead and warforged grab on to them their heads (if they have any) mutter "help me", "free me", "why did I have to die" etc. and won't let go if a cleric tries to turn them their skin, blood, etc. disappears and their bones fly forming a giant with the warforged making it's "skin" it then says "Join us" over and over as it rentlessly attacks the party through the numerous warforged heads it has
1164) Whenever someone opens a door in a house, builing, castle, etc, other than the front door, that leads outside, they are instead greeting not by the outdoors, but either by a large mouth that takes up the whole doorway or a large orange and unblinking eye that also fills the whole doorway.
That's a god one Terjon, very creative, might have to swipe that one for my campaign.
Good maybe, but despite what Fithero and the CharDev boards may say I am no god.
Good maybe, but despite what Fithero and the CharDev boards may say I am no god.
Sorry, typo, I meant good one.
1165) A large circular stone building. Inside you find a single room filled with seeing stones, crystal balls, pools of water, mirrors, etc. An aged man stumbles from one scrying device to the next, his eyes blinded by a steady stream of tears as he mutters to himself "There must have been a better option. The mourning could not possibly have been the best."
7) Gargantuan Housecats
Kittehs! *hugz* :D
- maybe that shank of lamb now want to "shank" someone in return...1167) The PCs crest a hill to find the vally below is filled with several score of living spells. The seething arcane energy is warping and tearing the landscape further and further as they swirl along in torrent of eldritch might. Could it be that they have gathered to just dance and covort with others of their kind, or is there more too it than that? Perhaps the spells are mating or melding together to form a new sentient being made up of nothing more than hundreds or thousands of spells with an appitite for killing....
1168). A grave is found in the Mournlands. Apparently, it's weaping blood and grass refuses to grow upon it. Plants around it grow into unnatural, horrifying shapes. They are also blood red, as if they take on the color of the weeping blood. The willows around the grave keep people away from it by entangling anyone who goes near the grave and throwing them with great strength. Anyone who looks at the grave notices it has the name of a prominent Wizard of Cyre.
1169). Hail falls to the ground and burns as fire (one of the Ten Plagues of Egypt).
1170). Two skeletons are dancing in a danse macabre. They will invite anyone to dance with them. As a PC dances with them, she or he will fade away; growing transparent.
1171). The PCs find a city in perfect condition. In one of the buildings, a mansion, they find a lone 10 year old girl who wants someone to play with. However, other parts of the mansion is filled with apparitions and phantoms. Anyone who keeps the girl company and plays with her at length will find that she is happy and then she disappears. The mansion returns to it's condemned state. (From Tenchi Universe).
I know. I'm just an arrogant SOB.
1165) A large circular stone building. Inside you find a single room filled with seeing stones, crystal balls, pools of water, mirrors, etc. An aged man stumbles from one scrying device to the next, his eyes blinded by a steady stream of tears as he mutters to himself "There must have been a better option. The mourning could not possibly have been the best."
Creepy....
1173) Swarms of food that eat people!
1174) Clothing that seeks out living creatures to strangle the life out of.
1175) Patches of sentient ground that hate to be tred on, and attack/throw off those that walk on them.
1176) Deadly fields of crops. Fields of corn with stiff, razor edged leaves and exploding ears that fire of kernals doing 3d4 bludgeoning damage. Rows of cabbage and/or lettuce that explode upon touch. Fields of wheat/grain that sting like nettles and probably hide creatures resistant to the stinging.And.....ATTACK OF THE KILLER TOMOATOES!
Creepy....
Me? Or my suggestion?
Either way with a compliment like that I'm going to have to come up with something new. Too bad creepy really isn't my forte.
Me? Or my suggestion?
Either way with a compliment like that I'm going to have to come up with something new. Too bad creepy really isn't my forte.
Now that you mention it, your avie IS rather disturbing.... But I meant the suggestion.
1178. The PCs find an area surrounded in the same mists that cover the Mournland. Trying to enter either sends the PC instantly out the other side as if there was no space between (especially bad if it's a rather large area and one PC enters while there are enemies on the other side).
1179. As 1178, except the PCs find a town perfectly preserved. No one seems to remember the War, The Day of Mourning, or anything more recent than a year or two before the War started (or think the War is still going on). They don't even see the mist surrounding the town. Anyone killed in the town is perfectly fine the next day, reliving the same day over (if the PCs stay somewhere overnight, they may end up scaring the owner or perhaps awaken on the street outside the town). This may affect the PCs (Can leave normally, but will be in the town when they next wake up unless they make a save).
1180. Bodies raining from the sky with no sign of how is always fun.
1181. Other characters appear to be deaf to the PC (if they talk, no one will look or even appear to hear anything). They can hear normally, and everyone else can hear them, but won't appear to.
1182. A changeling is stuck in whatever form he or she was in last or when they try and change, the form refuses to be what they try to become.
1184: A list of 1001 things that, in fact, lists one thousand one hundred and eighty four.
[email]aeros_of_cupid@yahoo.com[/email]
1184: A perfectly healthy looking lettuce patch(the gorund still looks like wasteland), but hidden under the green leafy exterior are body parts growing. Like teeth, blood, eyes, heads, fingers, etc.
An ordianary person who eats the lettuce(either because they don't notice the disgusting body pieces or extremely desperate) has something really horrible happen to their body. Maybe when they go to sleep, body parts begin to grow from the adventurer until their entire left side splits of as a second "you"(like the movie Army of Dead). Except it might not have your equipment just simply your clothing(not armor).
The second you can be of many things, maybe an equal opposite, a child you, a dumb you, a "flamboyant" you, a corpse you, or maybe an inert body, etc.
Anyway you slice it, it is very strange waking up next to a naked "you". It may even confuse the other adventurers.
1185:Simply put... ordinary "Objects". Ever heard of the lost room, An extraordinarily useful little hook. Imagine the bus ticket(Lightning Rail Ticket) that can transport a person 10ft. above a Lightning Rail Station platform in Passage. one of the hundreds of "Objects". the Fountain pen, the Glass Eye, the Charcoal Pencil, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Objects_from_The_Lost_Room
These are all very able to be put into the Mournlands as useful little things, but also maybe create new cults, collectors that worship the objects because they are set apart from all of the mournlands, because they have new effects when used together.
1187) The PC's wake up to find that their arms and legs have switched positions, giving new meaning to walking on your hands.
1188) One of the PC's developes cannabalistic urges. During a fight, when one of his/her allies are injured by a slashing/piercing attack, the PC must make at Will save or attack that ally, trying to gnaw off a limb or drink the blood from the wound.
1189) The party comes across a functioning hostel in one of the cities of Old Cyre. By all magical means, the place is totally normal, and inside are the PC's friends and family. They state that this place is a prime area for just such a business, and refuse to listen the PC's protests about the Mournland. Keep in mind that to all magical means these really are the PC's friends and family. At night, everyone sits down to a fantastic meal of meat pies, roasts, steaks and other foods. The friends and families insist that the PC's stay the night, so that they can spend more time together in the morning.
The next morning, the Pc's wake up to a horrible smell of decay and rot. Outside their rooms, the halls are awash in dry blood and bits of gore. Downstairs, where they had eaten last night are the gutted and flensed bodies of their friends and familes. The flesh has been mostly stripped from their bones, and their blood is everywhere. Next to them are pots and pans, plates and cups, filled with rotting meat. A message, scrawled in blood on the open dining room floor states: " Hope you enjoyed the meal!"
1190) You see a man, pierced through by dozens of weapons and covered in open wounds, kneeling on the road before you, sobbing uncontrollably, his face down-turned towards the ground. His hands seem to cover his face and blood pours from between them. As you approach you see that he actually has no hands and the blood pours from the stumps at the ends of his arms. From closer still you can see that his eyes have been gouged out and his ears removed. His teeth are a shattered wreck and when he wails you can see that his tongue has been removed. (a DC 15 knowledge history check reveals the man to be Galifar.)
Now is that representing his kingdom, and all the screwed-up stuff that's been done to it, or something else? ...sorry, random analytical.
Reminds me of that guy in the basement in some Angel episode. You know, where Spike falls through the floor to that person silently (without speaking; you could hear the slicing) cutting off his fingers, and when he looked up... I have a screenshot of it. (WARNING: disturbing.)
Now is that representing his kingdom, and all the screwed-up stuff that's been done to it, or something else? ...sorry, random analytical.
Reminds me of that guy in the basement in some Angel episode. You know, where Spike falls through the floor to that person silently (without speaking; you could hear the slicing) cutting off his fingers, and when he looked up... I have a screenshot of it. (WARNING: disturbing.)[sblock]
This gives me a sudden idea about binders in Eberron...
Now is that representing his kingdom, and all the screwed-up stuff that's been done to it, or something else? ...sorry, random analytical.
1191) Actually I had in mind something of a version of what caused the mourning. In my version Cyre decided to ressurect Galifar and set him up as the ruler of the five nations once again. Believing that things were too far gone for the man alone to be enough to accomplish their goals they then used powerful magics to bind his spirit to that of the land, thus The King would be The Land and The Land would be The King, insepperable as entities.
What they failed to take into account was how badly the land had already been ravaged. When they brought Galifar back he was as badly wounded as Cyre itself. Each of Cyre's children who had died in the war was a wound, each scar in its landscape a tear in his own immortal form. His wounds then wounded Cyre further, in the form of a dead gray mist, and those wounds were turned back on Galifar himself created an unending, viscious, cycle.
The true horror of a campaign that uses this sight is when the PCs learn that this immortal king is still trying to reach his intended purpose and unite himself with the remaining nations of Khorvaire in the same manner that, to this day, unites him with Cyre.
This gives me a sudden idea about binders in Eberron...
That sounds freaky, disturbing, and cool.
I might that use that in another campaign ;)
1192: The PCs think they see another pile of bodies (not uncommon in the Mournland), although it's much too far to go around, going on for miles, and so they have to walk through it. Once they reach it, they realize they aren't bodies, or aren't all bodies, they're flesh. Faces look up at them, mouths might even moun in pain occasionally, and the flesh pulses as if it had a heartbeat. If the PCs fall they stand up covered in blood, only to realize they punctured the skin.
If you want a conclusion, the PCs find a living Stone to Flesh spell in the area. If you want to make it dangerous, it could also have Flesh to Stone.
1195) As the PC's a walking along, call for spot/listen checks. Success allows them to see a dark fissure splitting the ground, heading straight for them. When the fissure gets closer, they see it discharges small electrical bolts and a pale blue light. As the fissure rushes past, they hear the sound of a lightning rail pass by and feel the wind gust past.
1195) As the PC's a walking along, call for spot/listen checks. Success allows them to see a dark fissure splitting the ground, heading straight for them. When the fissure gets closer, they see it discharges small electrical bolts and a pale blue light. As the fissure rushes past, they hear the sound of a lightning rail pass by and feel the wind gust past.
Everybody's heard ghost stories around the campfire. Heck, my grandma used to spin yarns about a spectral lightning rail that used to rocket past the farm where she grew up. ;)
1197: Each PC gets struck by a terrible curse for as long as they remain in the Mournland. One PC turns wood as soft as warm wax for as long as he touches it. Another PC makes water spoil and milk turn sour instantly whenever he speaks. Yet another PC makes the skin of the person he's currently looking at visually disappear.
1199.coming throgh the mist you find a portal to xanth!(maybe not very creepy but you must admit it would be a tad on the weird side)
1200.in a LARGE village/town you find a bunch of people who claim to have come from a different prime material world & have devices/powers to prove it!
1196: The PCs randomly merge with one of their magic items, appearing as if the item had grown out of their flesh. This merging only lasts for a few minutes, and happens completely randomly.
Now I remember what this reminds me of. Quest for Camelot. And in that movie, it was a blessing to the bad guys. Perhaps this could turn into a game all it's own (imagine if Vol could use this to fuse with her phylactery, thereby restoring her to life?)
1202: The PCs find one (or more) Carrion Crabs covered with only copies of their own bodies (or parts of their own bodies as many are slashed, ripped, or pierced with various weapons).
Iv read the first 10 pages or so and havnt seen anything like this yet, but apologies if something similar is lurking deeper within the thread.
1203) While inside the Mournlands, a different lunar cycle is visible than on the rest of the continent: indeed, completely different moons shine brightly, piercing through the thick mists. At regular intervals, one moon will fade away while another brightens into existance, so that usually only one moon is visible at a time, and a different moon present roughly every 24 hours.
Each moon is of a different colour. While any given moon is in the sky, magic and psionics are effecting accordingly: Perhaps a black moon prevents any spells with the "light" descriptor from functioning, whilest simultaneously applying "extend" to spells with the "darkness" descriptor for free, or increasing the caster level of necromancy spells by 1: the exact details are left to the GM.
If you wanted to shake things up even further, two moons may be present at once for an hour or so during "twilight" periods. The cycle of various moons could be fixed, or to confuse players further each new day the moon "active" could be rolled randomly.
EDIT: fixed numbering, sorry guys
1198...1199... ...2000?? What happened to 1200?
[...] What happened to 1200?
Got eaten by a fiendish gelatinous cube. :P
Fixed my numbering, but I blame abraham;) So could Mystrich, Pyrosorc and Abraham fix their numberings please?Mytsrich yours should be 1202 and Pyrosorc should be 1203!
Thanks guys/girls!
The PCs, if they are kind, might comfort them, fumble around for blankets and set the tents back up, rekindle the cooking fire and get some food in them, those with Heal might try and tend to wounds with penalties. The children, frightened, will want to sleep with their saviours. In the morning, their sight is restored, but their sense of smell is what wakes them. They have had their arms protectively around little child corpses, curled up in the nooks of the PCs' bodies, looking to have been rotting for anywhere from a week to a month.
If the PCs are cruel, or fearful, and attack the children, assuming them yet another Mournland trick or danger, the children fall easily, and some run away from the crazed blind monsters. In the morning, they are awoken by slaymates in numbers equal to their level +5 in ECL, attempting to do unto them what they would do unto frightened children.
Now, for a couple of my own submissions. If there's been any repetition, I do sincerely apologize to the original authors.
1205. During their time in the Mournland, the PC's stumble upon a ruined village. There have been signs of a struggle, and numerous footprints heading along the road and random placement of military equipment suggests that the inhabitants were fleeing from an invading army. As they make their way along the road, the PC's can barely see what appears to be a young girl of about 10 or so dressed in white. She is twirling and dancing about, singing softly to herself, though the PC's can hear her as if they were standing next to her. They can make out her beckoning them onwards, giggling in childlike glee. Whether the PC's follow her or not, she always appears to remain at the same distance, no matter at what speed they pursue her. If anything, the character' movements feel sluggish, hindering all attempts at swift movement.
After a time, whether it be a minute or a day, DM's choice, the girl disappears into the distance and the characters hear a shrill scream that sounds like it came from her. As they race towards the sound, they come across what appears to be a Cyran fortress. In front of the fortress, stretching as far as the eye can see, are wooden spikes.
Impaled upon these spikes are what appears to be the inhabitants of the town. Every single one of them is facing towards the castle. The only exception to this is the girl that appeared in the mists earlier, who stares blankly in the direction of the PC's, the tip of a spike protruding through her chest.
As the character's stare beyond the spikes, towards the castle, the ground is littered with bodies. If the PC's make their way through the area between the spikes and the castle, they notice that there is not a single soldier, Cyran or not, among them. The victims appear to be mainly women and children, various looks of terror plastered across their lifeless faces. Upon closer inspection, the PC's notice that all of the wounds are from arrows or crossbow bolts. Oddly, all the bolts and arrows seemed to have been fired from the castle, with many of the victims having fallen with numerous shafts protruding from their chests rather than their backs. It appears the inhabitants of the town who made it past the spikes were killed by their would-be saviours.
As the PC's make their way towards the gate, they hear the sounds of weeping. As they come upon the entrance, they discover the source. Kneeling in front of the gate is a soldier in Cyran colours, in his arms, a woman bearing resemblance to the girl the PC's saw previously, dressed in the same white dress. Her dress is stained in blood from a sword-wound on her chest. The soldier and the woman each have matching gold rings. The soldier has his head bowed over that of his wife, and weeping silently emanates from him. A bloodstained sword lies on the ground an arms-reach away.
Around them are the bodies of 9 other Cyran soldiers and countless inhabitants. Already, it appears that there was more than one village involved in the massacre. The dead soldiers appear to have been simply overwhelmed by the unarmed civilians, ripped apart by bear hands, or killed by their own stolen weapons.
The gate itself is covered with scratch marks, and bloodstains in the dirt leading to piled-up bodies suggests that the gate was forced open to allow for the soldiers to exit. Scattered around the gate is signs of absolute bloodshed and massacre, the soldiers having killed their own countrymen. Above the gate a tattered Cyran flag waves morosely in a non-existent breeze.
As the PC’s approach the soldier, he glances up at them, his tear-stained eyes staring directly into theirs. “We killed them, we killed all of them,” he croaks, before he picks up the sword and thrusts it into his own chest.
As he does so, the sounds of screaming and cries for help rise up from the battlefield, starting from a faint whisper, rising to a deafening crescendo. From the castle, the PC’s hear the sound of a sergeant ordering the soldiers to fire upon the civilians, with the soldiers begging not to. After a heated argument and the sergeant pulling rank upon his soldiers, the PC’s begin to hear the thudding of crossbow bolts and the screams of the wounded. This is soon joined by what appears to be the laughing of a god from the heavens, which rises to a volume that deafens the PC’s, before being suddenly silenced.
As the PC’s glance around, they notice the Cyran flag from the gate slowly floating away, whipped along by a non-existent wind.
(PS: If you wanted to be really evil, you could have the little girl from the beginning appear suddenly in random instances, such as in the streets of Sharn, warning of danger or something.)
Oh ye Math Gods have forsaken me again!
Mytsrich yours should be 1202 and Pyrosorc should be 1203!
Thanks guys/girls!
Woops, wasn't paying attention on that one at all.
1206.you come across a stable portal to non-magical version of eberron!
1207 A madman attacks the party without warning and fight to the death. Nailed to his skull, he wear a mask made with the face of somebody who looked like someone in the party. If they remove the mask, they will see that the madman look like a carbon copy of another member of the party, only slightly older. He also have the same body marks, scars or tatoo that the character.
Eww! That friggin disturbing!
Very Mournland-ish though.
1209) While moving toward their destination in the Mournland, an enormous hand forms out of the clouds, high up in the sky. It waves frantically at them, trying to get their attention. If the PC's take notice, it very forcefully motions for them to halt, as if warning them to go no further. If the PC's ignore it, it makes an obscene gesture and dissipates. They then here a whisper on the wind, " It's your funeral."
1210) The hand forms as above, but only if the PC's become extremely lost while trying to leave the Mournlands. It points in a direction, but will the PC's follow it? It could be helpful, it could be a ruse, seeking only to get them more lost, or it could be leading them into a trap.
Very Mournland-ish though.
Oh, don't misunderstand me. I fully intend to use that in my own game.
If it can freak me out, I'm absolutely positive that it'll scare the living c*** out of my players. I'm not that easily spooked, and since I have a strong stomach when it comes to gore, my players tend to be more "girly" than me, even though I'm the only female in the group. :D
I love this thread. Absolutely hug, kiss and have kids with-love this thread.
Everyone seems to just be going about the motions of whatever they were doing when the Morning hit. If the PCs investigate the church they find a bone white ooze creeping around and rolling over other dead bodies, and some of those bodies get up and head into town where they start going about their business. The ooze is a living Animate Dead.
Every round of combat there is a 50% chance that one of the town zombies joins the fight. Some whispering "save us" or "help god" even as they start to overwhelm the party.
When the ooze is killed the town goes mad. There are suddenly 100 brain hungry zombies milling around town. Hopefully the players will barricade them selfs in the church and you can have a Night of the Livening Dead type encounter. 24 hours after the ooze died the zombies wander off into the woods... maybe to look for their long lost friends or family.
1213. Receiving an unsigned letter, asking for help, and telling the PCs to go to the closest Lightening Rail station, they are told that they have a private Lightening Rail bringing them to *Insert destination*, although once boarded, withing hours, the PCs realize they are not headed the right way, as they speed through the Mournland's grey mist on the remains of the tracks to Cyre.
1215.you find a barral of monkeys that when you look inside you must make a will OR a fort. roll(witchever is lower!)or turn into a monkey and have a uncontrolable urge to climb into the barral with the other monkeys!if you make the roll you may comand the monkeys to do ONE thing of your choice that the monkeys can physically do,then they turn back into the people they once were(optionaly the creator of the barrel might be among the monkeys)
1216. The players come across a small town on the lightning rail. The town is worn out and run down. Sand has blown into town and formed low rolling dunes in the streets. Trees and bushes are growing in the streets, and even inside the buildings. Everywhere here looks like this is a ghost town. Nobody has lived here for at least a year, maybe more. Everyhere is trashy and wind burned. bleached a dull grey by the sun. Everywhere except the lightning rail station.
The station is clean and shiny, it looks new. Not a hint of dirt or debris like in the rest of town. When the party goes to check it out, they'll find the station master waiting in the cage. He'll sell them tickets to any destination in Khorvaire, and says with the utmost confidence the train will arrive around two P.M. in the early afternoon. Sense motive and detect lie will reveal nothing out of the ordinary. He's telling the truth.
Nothing interesting will happen while the players wait for the train. Just a couple minutes before 2 the players will hear the whistle as the train approaches town, They'll also notice Spot DC15, Listen DC 10 a great sand storm approaching with a huge wall of sand blowing in from the direction the train is coming from.
The station master will rush out and tell the players to quickly get inside, and get ready. If the players listen, they will be absolutely safe in the pristine train station. If the players ignore the station master, they be putting themselves at the mercy of the horrors that await.
The sand storm will reach the town about 2 minutes ahead of the train, and it features the Flaywind from Sandstorm. If the players don't seek cover, they'll likely die before the train even arrives, and when the train finally arrives, the winds will die down and dissipate nearly as quickly as the blasted the town. In the quiet of the town, with only the crackling of the stopped lightning rail train, with the dust settling, the players will bear witness to a horrifying scene. With unearthly moans and terrifying shrieks and screams;
2d6 Dread Wraiths, and 10d6 Wraiths will be observed getting off the train. They are the shadows of the former Cyrans that were riding the train on the day of the Mourning. They will get off the train, and search every single building for any living occupants. Their goal is to drain the life of any of the living, and float the bodies of the newly dead back to the train suspended by the howling winds. Anyone slain by a wraith will themselves becomes shades, and join the undead in this daily quest.
If the players can make the train station alive, the stationmaster will let them in. While the players are busy, he'll be barricading all the windows, and at the last, will go to barricade the door. There a wraith will blow in the door in with forceful winds shattering it, and they will snatch him. As soon as the wraiths have him and drag him away screaming into the awaiting train, they will all depart. Note that aside from the stationmaster, the wraiths will not harm anyone waiting in the train station when the train arrives. The train will then slowly depart, picking up speed. The only sound to be heard from the train of death as it departs is the crackling of the lightning rail.
This gruesome spectacle plays itself out every day. Any tickets the characters buy from this ghost station, will be honored, or can be refunded anywhere outside of the Mournlands, at any House Orien lightning rail station or office.
1217. The players come upon a small town with a fountain in the square. The town is quite deserted, except that when the players look into the fountain, they can then she shadows moving around town for about ten minutes. The shadows are completely unresponsive to the players and just go about their business. Like they did on the last day of the mourning.
$th Edition. That would be the most horrid thing in the entire setting.
Baiting alot, huh?
At least try to keep up the numbering...
1218. The party runs across the animated, horribly distorted, corpses of 3E characters that have been corrupted by an unimaginable number of splatbooks. Corpses that belonged to fighters and rogues are crying even in their deaths, while corpses that belonged to full casters are doing the "I pwn the world" dance.
Seriously, can we please leave the edition fighting out of this thread (at least)? Please?
Seriously, can we please leave the edition fighting out of this thread (at least)? Please?
As well as most mechanics. Saying 2d10 of this creature and 1d6 of that are not horrifying. What makes the Mournland scary is it's unexplainable. While a character is going to be scarred by a zombie, obviously the player is not. But saying they find a baby ghoul eating it's mother, who then regenerates the lost organs, which is eats again is terrifying (this is a few pages back, and not by me. But by far one of the best things in here. Kudos to whoever did make it up).
1220.you see barney!(scary for adults maybe?)
1221.you see a zombie barney!
1223: The party encounters a thing.
1224: Shadows reach up and throttle their owners--or appear to be killing themselves... (maybe no mechanical effect...)
Possible ways to fix this might be: return the captives to the Mournland, poison that well and drink from it again (and get out of the Mournland while suffering from the poison), eat the food left on a table in an inn in that town, die and get resurrected, a cleric can make a Turning attempt on them and they'll be cured if the result is "destroyed".
1223: To their joy, shortly after drinking from a discover that they can no longer heal or be healed outside of the Mournlands!
nice, reminds me of the Aztec curse in "Pirates of the Caribbean".
you can add that under the effect and during the night time there bodies looks like undead skeletons.
1224: The party encounter a farm animal grazing in a small patch of grass among the Mournland's dry ground (and later others as well). Immediately a party member recognizes it as herself. The other party members might think she's crazy, but a close inspection reveals many things that might be more than coincidence. The same color eyes and hair. If the character is dragonmarked, perhaps a cow with a single spot in it's equivalent of where the character is marked, similar scars left over from the war, etc.
1226. Or more like 1224b, but perhaps to add to it, a tie in with the animal. A Valenar would find himself a horse, a wizard would find his familiar, etc. And should the animal somehow communicate with them, such as if they cast Speak with Animals, then it has their memories. Perhaps even a few memories that they don't have.
1225) A "forest" of swords. Diminuitive Daggers make up the smallest "plants" in the forest, while Colossal Great Swords make up the tallest "trees". If a PC's "uproots" a sword, a severed arm comes along with it. The swords are not battle effective, and break upon the first successful attack.
I like it, but instead of a forest I'd make it a field of various weapons, maybe on the site of a battle area. Nothing is creepier then well organized roes of soldiers' limbs, buried underground with their only their weapon to show their location. Imagine you arrive at such a field, discovering its true nature, and then
when you look up, see that it stretches out to the horizon....
1227) No one in the party has internal dialog. Whatever they are thinking they speak aloud. When they dream, they narrate their dreams, possibly keeping others awake.
THe party is wandering through the mists of the Mournland and the players see and/or hear people they knew who died in the Mournland screaming for help. Each player only hear/see the people they knew and not what each other see and hear. The "ghosts" scream for help, cry, cower, and all die horribly resulting in a charm effect that drives each player to try and help their loved ones, abandoning the group. The thing causing the hallucinations is a Living Programmed Image Spell.
Nicole Kidman.
Does anyone know if the document is still available? Or who it was who compiled it?
1231) The PC's find strangely familiar humans about 50 feet away. As they get close they see that there are the exact number of Familiar people as there are PC's. The strange people are gathered in a small huddle as if looking at something, upon getting even closer you notice their heads are turned and looking directly at them. Shockingly upon reaching the people you notice that they are infact you! looking at your self dead huddling in a group, in the exact positions you are standing in now. You then here people comming up from behind, and it is the group of PC's rediscovering their "Dead?" bodys? The looks of horror upon their face as they see them self dead.
1233) The PCs find a strange forest; the trees all have clothing on them. Not hanging from the branches, but in ways that couldn't be possible unless the clothing was made around the tree, shirts will be on trunks untorn with tree limbs going through the arms holes, necklaces will be hanging far too far up for anyone to have climed and put them there, hats may be capping the tree. There will be about the amount of clothing that one person would wear per tree. Also, is it just the PCs imaginations, or do the trees have a slightly fleshy tone to them?
If the PCs should decide to try and damage these trees, there will be no resistance. However, if they use the trees for firewood, and boil water, the water becomes thick and red. A face appears in the water its mouth starting to move...
What does it have to say? Thats up to the DM.
1234) One of the PCs awakens one morning with an itch on their leg. Looking closely, they can make out two tiny holes. The first day or so, nothing bad happens, then the PC develops a fever. After a while, it becomes impossible to walk on that leg, the flesh around the holes becomeing black.
If the PCs make it out of the Mournlands, it is possible to get the leg healed. What happened? A simple bite from a brown recluse spider. Not all the Mournlands horrors have to be supernatural.
1236) The players come across a corpse of an elderly woman, still intact as is the standard. Two of the players identify her as their mother... but they aren't brothers.
Any attempts to dispel illusion fail. The two PCs are cousins, their mothers were identical twins. Of course, you don't tell them this, they get to wonder.
I realize this one will be hard to pull off unless you know all of your PCs complete backstory's, you would have to ensure that those two PCs had never met one another's parents, and both of them would had to have had families in Cyre at the time of the Mourning.
EDIT: 1237) The PC's find an area that looks as if it escaped the horrors of the mourning. A small cottage is there, with an elderly man reading a story to a young boy outside the home, and what seems like the boys parents sitting and laughing in a flower bed. However, the PCs notice that they can't hear any of this. They will notice that the corruption doesn't fade away around the house, it ends abruptly, there is a clear line where the charred and decaying earth ends and the pleasant grass begins. If any of the players try and cross this line, they feel a shock (no damage) and are pushed back.
They may walk away at this point, but if they continue to investigate they will find that the child goes off to play and runs right past the line of where the decay starts, and seems to simply vanish. A few moments later, he comes running back, re-appearing just as quickly.
If the PCs are really interested they may find that once every 5 minuets for about one second the invisible barrier keeping them out dissipates. It takes a fairly high Dex check (i suppose use your own judgment on how much you want them to be able to get in) but it is possible.
If any of the PCs do make it in, the family turns out to be hostile. Not only hostile, but the image that they were human was only true from the outside looking in. (Use some humanoid that is level appropriate, and theme appropriate for the Mournlands)
If some of the PCs don't make it in and some do, as soon as the line is crossed the area seems to vanish to the PCs still outside of it. It becomes just another barren waste like the rest of the Mournlands.
To the PC that made it in, they still see the mournlands outside of the small area. Two things could happen here:
1) The PC(s) manage to kill the family, in which case the same Dex check that got them in could get them out again.
2) The family kills the PC, and eats their flesh. They will take one of the PCs bones and start hammering on the invisible wall to time when they need to go, and come out of their home area and attack the rest of the party.
I would love to take credit for that one, but its ripped off of an episode of The Outer Limits.
The individual is a Changeling, who was at the edge of Cyre when the disaster struck, and has been drawn back to the site of the city where s/he once lived many lives, only to find themself overwhelmed by the psychic impressions of all the lives that were snuffed out, and forced to endlessly replay scenes from their lives...
1239) The party is attacked by low-level Living Spells, and discover that robed figures seem to be directing them. Adepts who have mastered the Slime or Thirst Domain (either of which allows one to rebuke/command oozes, of which Living Spells are one) have gathered in a secret cabal to harness the power of the Living Spells of the Mournland for their own sinister purposes! One of the few adventure seeds where the 'big bad evil guys' are members of an NPC class...
Consider that idea yoinked!
1240) A door that reacts to player proximity. If the PCs are close to it it will creek open, if the PCs walk away it slams shut. The PCs have some difficulty moving this door physically. (Can be used in conjunction with any horror with a door, really)
1241) One of the PCs glance down and realize with horror that the mage (or anyone not wearing heavy boots, really) is no longer wearing their shoes. Insted, they have a new pair made of human flesh.
1242) The PCs find some corpses with straw dolls. Any cuts or damage caused to the dolls will cause them to bleed, but the same damage would reveal that the corpses seem to be human skin filled with straw...
1243) There are universal laws, and those are all broken in the Mournland. A Marut, the Inevitable charged with keeping the laws of life and death in tact came to the Mournland years ago, being drawn by the wrongness of the place. The Mournland is so beyond its understanding it is unable to process what has happened. Everything seems to be dead, but the souls have not gone to Doluurh. The cause is not typical necromancy, and while ghosts do exist in the Mournland the vast majority of the souls of the dead are simply gone.
This it cannot abide. Besides attempting to rekill any ghost or ghostlike phenomena it comes across it will ANGRILY demand from anything living an explanation. "What have you done with them?" "Where are they?" "Why are you not dead?" Chances are the party will be completely unable to answer its questions to the Marut's satisfaction, in which case it will try to smash them. Its final words will have slightly more context to give the party some explaination... as it lays dying, "The souls... what happened.... to the souls."
They are eating the carved carcass of a tall tanned human male as dinner, along with various vegetables, gravy and other such trimmings.
They can only grip their food with their teeth, or nudge the plates around with their feet, but they act like human diners in most other respects, observing ettiquete as far as they are able and grunting and bleating at each other as though speaking.
(For those in an absurd frame of mind, the scene resembles one of those Dogs Playing Poker paintings.)
The animals do not react hostilly to the PCs unless they attack them or severely disrupt the meal, acting as though the family pets had walked into the room.
If any of the PCs are non-human, the sheep will offer them table scraps, held in it's mouth. This earns it a reproachful look from the pig.
If the players decide to stick around, it is up to the GM to work out how they're going to do the washing-up.
A temporal bubble of space, that jumps things backwards and forwards in time. Cyrans from the "Great Last War" who don't know they lose the war, contemporary monsters like living spells, hobgoblins from the ancient Pre-Galifar Empire & a far-future city of Warforged built on this spot called Morning.
All these things start to occur at once in a pocket of space which is a mesh up of all these areas, from all the different temporal states. Each group fighting for their right to exist in this space they call home.
Before your eyes, where a small town(perhaps a Cyran character's hometown) used to be, a volcano is being formed. As you can see it is primarily made of buildings, carts and even some lightning rail parts. Soon it erupts, yet what flows isn't lava but human bodies bathed in a sweet-smelled corrosive purple liquid. Following the eruption the bodies rise and ravingly assault the group. After surprisingly little time, they fall and turn to ash along with anyone they killed -so does the volcano itself. Watch carefully and you'll see a new volcano made of the town's remnants rising. Just don't wait for the next eruption ...
1252. A fully armed band of warriors on a wagon approach you. They look like ordinary people made of purple glass and bearing huge scythes. Their leader, an old dwarf, asks you to stop for an inspection-he sounds quite kind in an bureaucratic, dull way. He explains that they are tax collectors, here to take what the PCs own to the crown of Cyre.
The sum he asks is pretty low-if you try give him some coin though, the tax collector refuses to accept them and nicely explains that their coin is unacceptable, since Cyre's only accepted currency is the head. He demands all your crowns, sovereigns, galifars and dragons, which, as he quite kindly means the head of every PC member of a noble house, divine character, citizen of a nation that used to belong to Galifar and dragonmarked(or dragonborn) respectively. Refusing, of course, is a major crime, punishable by decapitation.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Immersion_foot
1255. Early in the morning, the Players find a house. On the front step, a fresh newspaper/bulletin from the closest neighbouring borders to their current Mournland location. A dog emerges from the house and brings the paper inside, placing it at the feet of his long dead master, atop of a huge pile of similar papers/bulletins. The dog then settles down next to his masters chair, inspecting him finds that he is quite dead just like his master. Every morning this house will have a fresh paper but no player will ever see anyone arrive to place one.
Thats a well trained dog by the way. I can't get mine to do anything but tear up newspapers and its alive.
1256: When the players are wandering about they stumble on to an orange tree surrounded by hideous monsters staring at it blankly. The tree is perfectly healthy and perfectly alive. The next morning all the monsters are dead. By noon the exact same number of monsters comes out of the mist one by one and circle the tree, staring at it blankly.
In the spirit of the season (a little late I know) and because I love this thread here goes:
#1258: While travelling along the one of the old lightning rail lines the players come across an overturned lightning rail that was knocked away from the conductor stones during the Mourning. They are able to here moans and a cry for help coming from inside one of the cars. If they investigate they suddenly find themselves on the cart while it is travelling through Cyre on the day of Mourning. In each of the seats sits a skeleton of the person who had sat there during the day. They can see the serene countryside outside the window as the train goes flying down the tracks.
No matter what the players do the skeleton people seem unable to see or hear them. However, if they explore further they find one little boy sitting by himself. He seems to be alive and well and stares blankly at the players. The players seem hypnotized by his blank eyes for a moment and then they are able to break out of it.
The boy begins repeating over and over, "They're all going to die. You can't stop it. They'll die." At this point the players realize the other seats aren't filled with the skeleton bodies anymore. Instead they are living beings in the seats. Also, the scene outside has changed to the pastorial Aundair. They are able to see the floating towers of Arcanix out in the distance.
Suddenly, the cart shakes as monsterous tenticles errupt from the ground and begin wrapping themselves around the car, a dead grey fog spewing up from the ground and seeping into the cart. As the fog fills the cart, blinding the players, they stumble out of the cart and back into the Mournland, the screams of the dying echoing in their ears.
#1259
The party comes across a group of warforged hold up in a gloomy looking building that are friendly, however they are colder to other warforged. They invite the party to stay the night. In conversation the players find out that the warforged act and behave as if they were human. They will deny being warforged and can become angry if pressed. At night when the party falls a sleep they will try to capture some of the party and kill any warforged players. As it turns out they are so bent on being alive that they are willing to carve up any living humanoid to strip for flesh and incorperate into themselves. "it puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again..." >=D
#1262 - Every time they look away from their companions, the other PC's features change. A little at a time. Imperceptable, really. They stay the same race and sex and personality, but little by little, every glance, every blink brings a new, subtle change. As you cross the mourlands, your companions transform into completely different people. You of course, are the same as you've always been... right? Right?
#1263 - After that last fight, you can't stop sneezing. Sneeze after sneeze, clouds of dust and ash puff from your nostrils. You're starting to feel a bit light-headed and forgetful... Oh dear.
#1264 - For reasons only the Traveler knows, you and your companions are in the aqueducts (sewers, y'all!) of Metrol. And it's beautiful. A whole ecology of brilliant fungi, mycoheterotrophic plants, eyeless gossamer butterflies and the glowing frogs that feed on them. Of course, given that the base of this ecology seems to be the huddled remains of other adventurers like yourself does diminish the beauty somewhat...
#1265 - It was an aviary once. All the birds are hardened now into bird-shaped (and sized!) gemstones, free for the taking. All you have to do is get past their animate, frenzied song trapped in the aviary with them. You can't see it, and every tweeted note opens a new wound.
#1266 - You've developed a rash on the hand you used to handle that chunk of metal that was i nthe way. A nasty boil forms in your palm and at the creases of your fingers. Oh gods it itches. When it finally splits open, there's a milky eye inside... and you can see yourself through its gaze, and you know that it hates you. You're the hideous, grotesque monster, to the gaze of your hand. Cures might remove the... thing, but that different perspective is going to stick with you...
#1267 - A storm brews overhead. When it rains, clothing tumbles from the sky with it. The clothes are still warm, as if recently taken off someone.
#1268 - You wake up after a fitful rest to find yourself covered in bruises that fit humanoid bitemarks. The cleric in your party professes that he feels far too full to even consider eating.
#1269 - A mired riverbed, just a long stretch of half-dried mud and eternally flopping, gasping fish. Three yards to the left, a ribbon of water follows the exact course of the riverbed. Nothing lives in it, and if transported, the fish will leap from the water as if panicked, showing signs of acid burns.
#1270 - A battleground of Cyran and Karnn corpses. All on their feet. All of them locked together by their weapons; not a single corpse is not impaled or impaling another (and of course not always an "enemy") with a weapon. When the wind blows, each of the corpses naturally shifts with hte wind... making the whole mass move slowly but steadily in an odd, shuffling way. Someone (...something?) sure went through a lot of time and effort to arrange them...
#1271 The mourn-runners
The party encounters, at a distance a group of humanoids all running full pelt in single file - perhaps they cross the parties journey of travel at an angle? The runners are different races, both genders, different ages. They are all wiry, mal-nourished and dressed in rags and all barefoot.
If the party attempts to stop them they will fight to free themselves but not otherwise be aggressive. They do not communicate with one another and will stare blankly in the direction of travel unless forced to interact with a player (and even then will keep looking off longingly in the direction of travel). All of them have slate grey irises that seem 'lifeless'. One may mumble about 'the lines' and the need to run them to 'prevent the mourn from breaking free'.
If the PCs are able to keep up with the group somehow (given that they run at full pelt for 18 hours a day before collapsing and sleeping on the spot) then they will eventually notice that the runners’ path seems to be tracing the route of an old lightning rail. The runners dodge past the cracked and crumbled remains of the lightning stones which formed the track for the vehicles. Eventually the group reaches a junction point with a ruined waystation building. The group rests here for the night before veering off in a different direction following another lightning rail track.
In the building the PCs will have to fight an encounter of wild creatures (the runners ignore the fight and are ignored by the wild creatures as well). If they search they will eventually find some badly damaged records form the waystation which hint at strange energy fluctuations on the lightning rail grid in the run-up to the end of the record - the Day of Mourning.
P.S this is partially inspired by an old Sheri S Tepper novel (the True Game) to give credit, where credit is due
#1272 The Elk and The Hands
A collosal beast stalks the fog within the Mournlands, it's belowing howl causes dust to shift and eddy. As it approaches the players see only the matted fur on the tree-trunk legs, and the shadow of a head the size of an entire horse high above, and further still the shadows of antlers the size of small ships. Rather than fight, the peast flees through the party, away from the thunderous approach of a swarm of mage-hands, that paw their way along the ground. The PCs have no choice put to hide or else be trampled, or worse, swept up by a wave of clutching, crushing hands.
I had loads more ideas for the Mournland, I'll be back when I remember them
1142) The party arrives at a (rather) Large wall of dead bodies emitting from the wall of corpses are the voices of men, women, children, elf, dwarf, human and etc. calling out "help me." "Where am I." "I don't want to be here." as well as mourning, crying, and wailing now the limbs that can be seen still move as if alive now if the party should investigate (meaning they have no idea they're dead) the limbs attempt to grab them with the voices going "Yes....yes.....your sacrifice will release us from this prison." while limbs nearby hold spectral daggers (I was thinking Will save to see the knives are illusions if they fail they die and become part of the wall) if they don't X# of Cadaver Collectors appear and attack the party if one of the players die their corpse is picked up by one of the cadaver collectors and heaped upon the wall becoming part of the wall itself. This also leads to a interesting Plot hook what is the wall for why do the Cadaver Collectors add to it who is ordering them to?
Brought to mind an idea I had a while back that would fit into the Mournland perfectly
#1273 The Ghoul Tower
A necromancer dwells in a crawling tower, its' walls comprising of braying carcasses that flail and gnash. The base is composed of countless crippled and decayed limbs that thrash and kick randomly but all guide the swaying structure in a single direction at seemingly impossible speeds. A field of mutated livestock vanishes beneath its' onslaught, only to be seen rising piece by piece along its' walls, fleeting snaps are taken by the increasingly decayed bodies, before the flesh is fused with the whole, and the tower grows.
It's a dungeon, a BBEG, or a brief but horrifying encounter all in one
I hope this never happens, Silver Flame forbid!