1001 Mournland Horrors

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

401. As the PC's make camp, darkness descends. They can't quite put a finger on it but this darkness seems somewhat.... off. As the watch drags on, the patrolling character starts beginning to hear faint whispers on the wind. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a dark shape run past into the shadow. Stepping out further to inspect he almost feels as though someone were barely putting their hands on his shoulders, whispering words he can't make out. The barest feeling of a kiss on one check and a soft caress on the other and he sees, again out of the corner of his eye, a dark shape, as insubstantial as shadow, running past (towards the camp this time). He finds nothing there but his comrades, deep in sleep.

...But he hears the constant sussurus of soft and silent whispers that follow him into dreaming.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

402: Your party comes across a town that looks like every other town left in Mournland, except that the lights are all on in the meetinghall. If the pc's look through the windows or door they see what looks like a dance going on. On closer inspection they see that all the people are quite dead, moving more as if jerked around than mobile themselves. Entering the building reveals a crazy wrinckled little old man playing a fiddle on the stage. He cackles loudly if the pcs try and talk to him offering someone for them to dance with. Once he offers corpses from chairs on the side of the room get up to dance with the players. They must save vs. Otto's Irresistable dance or join in. They can save as often as the DM likes, vs the DC appropriate till they escape the dance. Attacking the old man causes the whole building to colapse and the corpse to drop to the floor inert.

Originally posted by serpentine:

More dancing...

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

405) The PCs encounter a cluster of puppies, all of different breeds, that greet them with wagging tails. They bark like normal puppies, play like normal puppies, and otherwise act like normal puppies, except for one thing: They all appear as if they had the pseudonatural template

Originally posted by nurgan_the_drunked:

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

A Pile of something (weapons/bones/goods-doesn't really matter), and above this Pile, flies a dozen severed birds heads, constantly bleeding and making faint noises not usually attributed to birds (like cats/sheep/whales).

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!

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

408. After a few night sin the mournland one of the elves in the party begins to have odd dreams at night. in them he relives the day that just went by but the light shed on his team is the light of diferent moons of the eberron world. Each morning the elf would awake with an odd tingle in his skin and as always shaken by the eery dream but right it off as nerves on edge form the mournland around them. The fourth night or so how ever the dream is diferent. The day is relived as always but the light is shed by a glowing orb he does not recognize. And furthermore as the day progresses in the dream something odd continues to occur. the elf begins to notice etching like markings in his own skin, blood red in apearance but only visible form time to time. Then as the dream nears its end everything the elf touches begins fading to dust, or wilting or dying if it be living.
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!

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

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).

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

410. In the PC's dreams, he envisions himself walking through a densely wooded forest. Mist fills the air and its white tendrils sway entrancingly in the half-light. The moon is full and a deep orange; its massive shape obscurred by dark, wispy clouds like a lover laying amid carelessly tousled sheets. Almost floating between the trees, so graceful and lithe are its movements, a darkly cloaked shape beckons with a pale, perfect finger.

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

416) As the players travel through the Mournlands a very thick mist rolls in surounding them in moments. Vision is reduced to 5ft and the thick fog is cold, wet and slightly sticky, as the characters take in these conditions they start to make out faint outlines of people milling all around them.Then from behind one of the party members a thin breathy whisper softly pleads in their ear "please oh.....uurrrhhhh... gods please.....no more .........stop......... stop.....hurts so much......stop......arrrgggg........ breathing us".

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

: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

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

Three ideas. Not really scary, but interesting.
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

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

423) The wall of Dead-Grey Mist turns into a giant freezing fog spell. Everyone and everything slowly feels their body slow down, thier speech slur, and their senses dull until they are left in a horrible state of suspended animation, aware of every waking moment but unable to move. After about a minute, they find themselves suffocating after losing control of their lungs.

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.

Originally posted by mr._twist:

425) Right at the beginning of the “day”, pull one of the players aside (with everyone else watching). Run the encounters as planned, passing a note the player that you talked to telling him that his character is thirsty. The next morning, the PC wakes up screaming. When questioned, he remembers nothing of the previous day, just endless sessions of torture. Marks are still visible on his body, and he is severally dehydrated from loss of blood. In his pack, lying on top of the empty waterskin is a note…
“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.”

Originally posted by Nived:

428)A small hamlet is found in the mournland, everyone is dead, of course, however thier bodies have been defiled in an odd and disturbing way. The eyes are gone, they don't look like they were torn out or cut out... they're just gone. Also everyone's faces from the young, to the old, even an infant are twisted into demented grins.

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.'

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

You know folks, I find the ideas presented much more interesting if they don't involve combat (with the minor exception of Living Spells. Those guys, especially if used judiciously, are lots of fun)

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
[sblock]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.[/sblock]

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

429: Now for the horrifying and ludicris: The players come across a small group of what they think are halflings. That is until the group of them start gibbering in a strange language. If a fight breaks out these strange lil halflings use weapons that make a hoopack sound and keep pulling the strangest things out of their pockets. (Thats right the horror of horrors, kender have invaded Eberron)

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)

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

Here's one.
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.

Originally posted by Nived:

432) Earlier in the game have the party meet and relate to another adventuring party (say in Sharn for instance) preferably the two parties will have friendly relations. Much later in the game while the party is in the mournland have them come across those NPCs, slaughtered in a horrible and brutal way... but not all of them are there. A little scouting around finds one survivor nearby, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth. If asked about what happened he'll start muttering.

"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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

433) The characters walk along and encounter a shantytown. Crates, canvas, and boxes form shelters of some sort. Rough utinsels and dishware litter the ground. People begin coming out of their shelters. Obvious wounds puncture their body. Some have limbs amputated, ohers carry malformed children, but one fact is undenyable. They are all undead. Dozens and dozens.

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..."

Originally posted by missekat:

Or how about:
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".

Originally posted by solarious:

Salutations, Poetic Justice! May a neverending torrent of nightmares flow from this thread and infest Mournlands across people's imaginations. 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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

I haven't read this whole post, so if someone has done this then I am sorry.

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

Thank you Solarious and everyone else for their kind words. I appreciate them, I really do, but I can only take so much of the blame for inflicting the horrors. Most came from the other, more talented posters on this board.

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.

Originally posted by solarious:

Well, the Daelkyr has thousands of years head start on us. Even the Mournlands itself has a 2 year lead. The only way to even the odds is to pool our collective twisted minds to make our very own chorus of screams.

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...

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.

Originally posted by Marshall_Stone:

Sorry if this has been done before

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

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!

Click to expand...

Originally posted by nurgan_the_drunked:

440) The PCs find a region, possibly a city, possibly not, inside a massive invisibility sphere. They find themselves fading from view as they enter, and cannot dispel the effect. Even a See Invisiblity reveals nothing

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.

Originally posted by baronvertigo:

441.) "By Dol Arrah's locks, man, move!" Kessus and Averan kept running, sweat pouring down their faces. They'd been on the run for the last 4 hours, and their companions had fallen behind. They'd cast a glance behind them, every so often, to see if it was still giving chase. It was. "Oh, sweet Sovereign Host, I swear I'll go to temple every day of the week if you can just get me out of this one," Averan muttered under his breath. Averan felt the call of paladinhood early in his life. He wanted to promote goodness, and purity. He wanted to save people. He did not want to be on the run from something so horrible that he'd have nightmares for the rest of his life even if he did escape. "Shut up, fool! Move!" Kessus screamed at him. Every time Averan looked behind him, it was still there. Always at the same pace, though surely it couldn't keep pace at this speed, given its form. "I have to keep moving... have to keep moving... we have to do something besides run, Kessus." Averan looked to his side. Kessus wasn't there. "Kessus?" Nothing but low-lying mist surrounded him. Kessus was gone. "Kessus!" Averan became frantic. Go out into the mists to look for his companion, or keep moving, lest it catch up with him? A scream erupted from behind him. Averan could make out Kessus's form, on the ground, reaching his hand out to Averan. "Averan... help." Kessus let out another scream, and Averan saw his friend of three years sucked back into the mist. Another scream, this one higher... higher than Averan thought Kessus's deep, gruff voice could go. This time, the scream trailed off into a gurgling, incoherent death rattle. Averan ran as hard as he could, tears of fear streaming down his face. The mist was getting thicker, and he was having trouble navigating over obstacles in his way. He cast another glance behind, though he knew he shouldn't have. It was right behind him. He felt his foot strike something hard, and he knew the sensation of falling. Averan tumbled down into a ditch, landing on his back. He tried to rise, and keep moving, but the pain in his lower leg was a good indicator that he wasn't going anywhere. He could feel it out there, giggling at him. He wished he could tell his children how much he loved them. He wished he could kiss his wife goodbye. Instead, he saw it creeping towards him, finally emerging from the mist. Averan tried to steel himself... tried to be brave. He watched as the little girl pulled herself out of the mists, stumps where her legs used to be trailing blood behind her. He was so paralyzed with fear that he couldn't move. She grinned at him, and then screamed. Her mouth opened wide, wider than any young child should have been able to do. Four long tentacles slinked out of her mouth, and gave an anticipatory wiggle. She closed her mouth, and the tentacles slid back into her mouth, giving her the appearance of a little girl again. She slowly pulled herself up his armor. She was cold. Finally, face to face with his death, Averan opened his eyes one last time. She gave him the grin of an innocent child... and held up a scalpel in her right hand.

"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....

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

442: A wretching tearing sound echos across the land in the early morning just before the group sets out after camping for the night. After a relativly uneventful day the PC's find a body missing it's head with a trail of blood going north twards a patch of extremley thick fog. As they enter they see that the fog is covering trees... foul trees with rotten wood and hooked branches reachinig up mournfully twards the sky like an upside down weeping willow. Occasionaly a random PC will notice a tree seem to shrug or shake. After only 30 miniutes of travel through this forest the PC's find a large tree with 2 bodies beside it and 3 heads twisted in the branches as if the tree had tried to choke 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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

444) The characters encounter a pit which smells strongly of rotten eggs. Eminating from the pit are sounds of lamentation and gnashing of teeth. Looking into the pit, it is surprisingly shallow and ordinary. If anyone jumps into the pit, sound stops. All sound. The characters are effected as if they are in a silence spell till the person climbs out of the pit. The problem is movement is now different. Every 10' traveled is only an inch. The pit is only 7' deep, but the character must completly climb out for the effect to end. Once out, sound starts again, teeth gnashing and all.

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...)

Originally posted by capfalcon:

The PCs are on an average scavenger hunt mission, but when they get to where XXXXX of Doom (tm) is, they find that it is missing with a note saying "Hello and good day to you fine adventurers. If you want that which was once here, go 3 miles to the north and knock, then you will be shown the way to where the xxxxxx of Doom and myself are."

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.

Originally posted by sereno:

449) The PCs encounter a small farm where an sickly, emaciated farmer tends crops that are obviously dead or blighted. He even throws feed to skeletal cows and chickens (animated, but harmless). Inside the farmhouse, the skeletons of the rest of his family (wife, 4 children) sit around the kitchen table where they died on the Day of the Mourning. No amount of persuading can convince the farmer that his farm is dead.

Originally posted by trobon_the_orange_02:

First of let me give a BIG 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.

Originally posted by missekat:

Hail Trobon the Orange.

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

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

I am thrilled to hear that your session went so well, Missekat!
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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

451) The PCs, weary of travel through the dreadful Mournelands and much in need of rest climb to the top of a small bluff and look out over the barren landscape before them without much hope- but then, joy of joys, one of them spies the unmistakable shape of thatched rooves, all intact, complete with smoke wafting from the chimnies and birds nessting in the eves. Brightly clad people may be seen moving about in the streets below, and the PCs hasten twords the town. They reach the village just as dusk settles in- the walk from the bluff took a strangely long amount of time-, so when they arive, the town's inhabitants are already inside, with their windows shuttered and barred, but the happy sounds of families at dinner can be heard through the doors and windows. The PCs head twords the town square, hoping to find an inn in this unanticipated owasis, when their ears are asailed by the groan of wagon weels and the clang of a bell... and screams for aid, for pitty, for anything really. A wagon rolls into view, pulled by the shambling corpses of horses. Tied to the frame are the forms of a handful of emancipated but very much alive Cyrans. Driving and surrounding the wagon are about 20 walking human corpses. The air is punctured by a periodic cry of "Bring out your living! Bring out your living!" From the driver of the wagon. A few houses open at this, with families of zombies dragging the screaming, kicking forms of their now live-once-more relatives twords the wagon. One of the zombie children may be heard remarking through her tears of blood to her mother as a young boy is hauled twords the wagon by his zombie father -"Why did Timmy have to come to life? It just isnt fair!" When the zombies catch sight of the PCs, they will recoil with horror, and mobalize the town millitia to try to subue the dangerous live horrors which they precieve the PCs to be.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

Wow i jsut read all 9 pages and WHEY theres some creepy\nasty stuff here, miner currently in Xen'Drik, but ill be sure to get em to visit the Mournland eventually. I ESPECIALLY liked the one with the shield and note about the Nar sumin or w\e. Really freaked me out.

(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.

Originally posted by Nived:

I just reread the thread again. (why do I do this to myself late at night?) and realized that a lot of us are apearently terrified by creepy childlike things.... perfectly reasonable... the twins from The Shining creep me out to this day. However all this creepy Children of the Corn stuff gave me an idea.

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.

Originally posted by mr._twist:

It's the Mournlands. The PCs have probably lost someone already. It'd be a refresshing break.

Click to expand...

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

Here's my own contributions to the thread. Hope none if these have been done already.

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

Alright- I'm going to expand on this latter, becouse right now I'm up to my neck in homework, but this one doesn't seem to have been done before, and It would make a great way for some DM to get his PCs involved in the Last War, should he feel so inclinded...

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

458. At the edge of the forest, a large black tree looms far above the others. Though in line with the forest's edge it appears that no other trees grow within 200 feet of this one. It must be over a hundred feet tall and you can see that its gnarled, claw-like branches have somethings hanging from them. About midway to the tree you can see that it looks like bodies hanging from the branches as well as a figure sitting at its base, surrounded by coils and coils of rope. Coming even closer reveals that each body in the tree is, in fact, a marionette and the sitting man is carving up another; he's almost done by the looks of it. The marionettes are the most realistic and lifelike puppets you have ever seen, every feature almost perfect and flawless in its design and each seems carved in the garb of a Cyran soldier.

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

Thank you very much.

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).

Originally posted by dagda_mor:

463: The party comes across another adventurer (perhaps one they encountered earlier) who is desperately fighting for his life against. . .nothing. Although he continually acts as though in a pitched battle, urging the others to run, there is nothing there; no invisible creatures or any spells in effect. However, with a DC 15 spot check the party realizes that he his wounds are more numerous than they were a minute ago, and a 20 on the check allows them to witness one such wound being inflicted as though he had been hit by an invisible blade. If the party succesfully restrains the man he is immediately coup de graced in a brutal fashion. There is nothing they can do to help him.

Originally posted by Territan:

464: A field of livestock. Most of them simply died where they stood, and could be mistaken for sleeping, except that their eyes are open. Some of them have been chewed up. (If they spend long enough watching, they may notice that the corpses regenerate.) Elsewhere in the field, there is an undead cow grazing... on another dead cow. That's what chewed up the other cattle. It now has sharp teeth for just that task.

(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!)

Originally posted by Nived:

468) While exploring a city the party comes across a middle aged man walking through the ruins with a stick in front of him. The man is obviously blind, but what is an appearently alive blind man doing so far into the Mournland. If the party approches silently he'll hear them and try to get away, figuring they're zombies, or worse... if the party hails him or trys to talk to him he'll have an innitial attitude of unfriendly and be convinced they're ghosts or spirits. It'll take a high diplomacy check to convince the man that the party isn't just another trick of the mournland come to taunt him. He's a bitter, suspicious, short tempered old man, whose survived this long in the worst enviroment on Eberron.

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.

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

469)Among the ruins of some forgotten village lies a house Sivis listening post. Within, a palm-sized emerald shines brilliantly amidst the ashen corpses of those who fell in the Mourning and the wreckage of the building.
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.

Originally posted by Territan:

For the first thing, just picture it: A city setting, like Eston or Metrol, or perhaps one of the larger communities caught in the Field of Ruins. And in there somewhere, a bath house. Some place that workers (or adventurers) go to cleanup after a hard day's work.

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.)

Originally posted by zombiegleemax:

Those were pretty good!

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.