Location idea resource

[Bran Blackbyrd]

It lives! It lives still!
Okay, I think I finally have something for this, you feline rapscallion.

The Squirming Pool

Travelogue of Adis Aizarian

Village of Leesmere: Got confirmation that the ruins we were looking for exist. Should lie three days West of here. A local hedge-wizard insisted that we take his apprentice, Jimmy, with us. “You lack a manipulator of the arcane, and he needs the experience.” the wrinkled old bastard said. I hate casters… but we let him come along and help guide the pack mules. If he tries anything funny with his magic I’ll leave him alone half-way across the plain, or down the crevasse.

Two Days Out of Leesmere: Gads, what a bumbler! The boy has had his nose in books so long he can’t do anything right. It took us an hour after we made camp for the night to retrieve the mules; half an hour more for the horses. Not only did he not hobble them properly, but I am certain it was some of his fool magic that spooked them.
How I kept my calm with the boy I will never know.

Three Days Out of Leesmere: I see the crevasse not a hundred yards away; it lies like an unhealed wound in the middle of the plains. Down that hole there waits the entrance to a temple whose untold riches are said to make the Shrine of Good Fortune look like a ramshackle bawdy house, and I intend to find it. The trip to Coppervale was a waste, I know that now. The first team never returned, nor did the men who went in after them. Being third-string on a treasure hunt never felt so good; may their souls find peace. I swear I heard their screams...
I’m older now, wiser; I’ve made a name for myself. This will be different, not the leavings of some forsaken mining town but the riches of an ancient temple.

This is why we brought so much rope; a hundred feet down into the black we found the door!
It is opened! We leave our footprints in the dust of a century or more, not a soul has disturbed it in that much time. The first part of the legend holds true, now for the second; in three, down five. In three rooms and down five floors, treasure and glory will be ours.

What luck we have! Tales told in taverns by old drunks come true before our very eyes. We stand at the edge of ‘The Pit’, resting place of treasures untold, sacrificed into a hole in the ground by some forgotten cult. Pay day! The pit is at least a hundred feet across; I see that with my own eyes. The tales say it is five hundred deep or more.

First Night in the Temple: So close and yet so far. There’s a barrier around the pit, something I can’t see, but prevents our passage. The boy seems to think he can ‘dispel’ the obstacle. Whatever the barrier is, it’s making it hard to see into the pit. It may be a trick of the torchlight, but it looks like there is water in the pit; black water in the darkness.

I’ve retreated to the first floor! Writing this from a hiding place-
The pit was surrounded by a number of glyphs. A gemstone embedded at each of the four winds. My men and I don’t know magic, we know trouble. -couldn’t pay us to pry those stones loose, but that boy, THAT FOOL BOY! We were not watching- he pried loose a purple stone the size of a child’s fist. A child’s fist by my bones! My hair stood on end. -air went sour; I knew the unseen impedance was no more. Something was wrong.
I stood at the edge of the abyss and looked into the squirming pool. Feared had I that hundreds of feet of water would keep us from our prize; if only that were true.
Black and viscous, it writhes in the pit! I have seen the putrid little balls of snot called Black Pudding in my travels. I’ve killed them. This- This is a horror beyond imagining, my very own nightmares could not have perverted reality into something this unrelentingly vile. If the pit was as big as the rumors would have us believe, this oozing monstrosity occupied a space five hundred feet deep and one hundred across! Before it lurched upward and took the boy into its mass it came a scant eight feet or less from coming to the top of the pit.
We ran, Gods help us, we ran for the entrance- it was sealed. We were going out of our minds with terror, waiting for IT to slime its way out of the hole- devour us. -it did not come.
Jimmy stumbled into our midst -could scarcely believe it. But then a horrible grin skulked across his face, his visage contorted; he stabbed Päldr in the chest, again and again. We struck at him with sword and hammer. He did not bleed, instead a black liquid seeped from his veins- the thing in the squirming pool had not dissolved and consumed his flesh, but instead had taken control of him!
He did not go down until we had beaten him to a shape scarcely recognizable as human. Päldr died gasping on the floor, perhaps the luckiest of us.
The ground shook –I knew that, its blasphemous emissary thwarted, IT was coming for us.

I can hear it coming now- I will write later if I can.

I have shimmied up a stone shaft and perched on a small beam. The shaft, perhaps, was once attached to a privy; there was supposed to be a cathedral of some sort at ground level once. What cruelty, I can see the sunlight coming through a narrow hole, not ten feet above me, and the black ooze squelches hideously not more than twenty below me. It is getting closer all the time. Jaren slid down the shaft into its writhing form over an hour ago.
Maybe I can make it up the shaft, but I am so tired. I wish I had never laid eyes upon that pit, the horror; The Squirming Pool.

Wren Falquir’s notes:

Week Two, Day Six: I have found it! There is a book up there, in an angled shaft above me, balanced on a support beam or some such. I am certain it is the personal journal of the explorer (and treasure hunter!) Adis Aizarian. I can hardly contain my glee! If the stories are true, the journal contains the secrets to recovering treasure one could only dream of. All I have to d

Next: Alice’s Corpse Garden
Wow, sorry that was so long.
Anyone not familiar with this thread, please refer to the first post.

 

[der_kluge]

Alice's Corpse Garden

Despite the macabre name, Alice's corpse garden is in fact, a very pleasant, pastoral setting in the hillsides of Brookshire, a small homlet just outside Crestwood. Alice, a sculptor and artisan, is an aged woman in her 80s. A recluse by nature, Alice has taken the task of sculpting famous individuals of legend for her garden. Grunwilde the Infamous, Nijel the quick, and even Dunwoody the lucky are represented here.

But mysterious circumstances seem to surround the garden, for anyone alive that Alice sculpts dies within the next year or maybe two. Even the healthy Lord Grumwald, who was a mere 42 years old when sculpted, died in his sleep only two months after being sculpted. For this reason, Alice's otherwise beautiful garden has taken on the name "corpse" garden due to the foreboding, necromantic coincidences of her sculptures.

Alice denies any wrongdoing, and regrets the deaths of those who have befallen such a fate, but she has no desire to stop.

Next:
The Bath House of Tor-Vidor

 

[Catavarie]

The Bath House of Tor-Vidor

The Bath House of Tor-Vidor is located in a seedy part of the town of Waterbridge, this particular bath house is often filled with the leaders of rouge guilds meeting and conspiring against other guilds and even each other. There is a special room in the back for Lordis Kault, the leader of the Blades a particularly nasty rogue guild, in which he holds special meetings with other guild leaders, so often is Lordis Kaul the only one to leave the room after such meetings that they say the water is red as blood.

The bath house is an excellent place for a young rogue that is looking to make a name for himself to find odd jobs, or for a brave, and foolish, hero to gain knowledge of the entire underworld of Tor-Vidor.

Next:
Macnamra's Tower

 

[Graywolf-ELM]

Macnamra's Tower

I've been looking for this thread, Imagine the Search function working for me this time. If anyone has seen the Organization thread of like kind, please point me there, the search function did not help so much there.

Macnamra's Tower

As told by Mickey Natterler
The spiderling forest is an oft avoided border to the Northern road. Horrid creatures spiderlings are, and a swarm of them can pick a body clean in minutes. Funny thing is, no one had even heard of spiderlings until 20 cycles ago. Old wizard Macnamra was in town on his monthly shopping, a servant along, which none could see, carrying everything for him, as usual. Stop me if you've heard this one before. Anyway, his tower could be seen from town back then, near the middle of the Glenrow forest as it was known back then. He said to me that day, I remember it well. "I won't be in town for a few months Mickey. I've got some work to do that will keep me busy for a while." That was the last we seen or heard of the old guy, his stuff floating behind him as he walked out the door.

Nowadays, the clouds and storms above the spiderling forest block the view of old Macnamra's Tower, but on a blessed day, when storms die down a bit, you can just see the tower at the center of the wood, still standing to this day, I tell you. With the spiderling problem though, none have been able to visit, to check on the old man. A few tried... Once... Stay away from the Northern road. Track East, and meet it past the mountains, you'll be sorry not to listen to me.


Next:
The Penumbral Cave

 

[Psion]

The Penumbral Cave

The penumbral cave is the technical name provided in the Geographical Travel Logs of the sage Selvarius "Squinty" Felsaloom for a curious cave on the side of a hill along a trade road in the east end of the duchy.

The most curious and immediately observable effect of the cave is that regardless of the time of day outside, just within the lip of the cave, is a line of faded, braided runes. Beyond that line, regardless of the time of day on the exterior, the interior lighting is a dull shadow.

Selvarius points to this as being merely a curiosity put in place by some bygone mage, perhaps to provide shade on sunny days.

However, though there are no major communities in the immediate area of the cave, the two villages which are connected by the road passing by the Penumbral Cave have a variety of myths regarding the cave. A commonly recurring story in the tales of both villages recount how two travelers, caught outdoors during a dark and stormy night, took refuge in the cave. Though terrified by the magic, as many commoners are, they considered it better than being in the blistering winds of the storm.

The tale goes that the set out the next day and soon found curious happenings. Every night after they slept, they found animals mutilated in the morning. This continued until they reached the village, and people started dying inexplicably.

The tale supposes that they were possessed by demons and their true spirits are trapped in the cave somehow; most traditions assume the cave is overrun by demon spirits. Selvarius' logs acidicly attacks the intelligence of the locals, citing how he detected no such demon presence in the cave using his divinations.

A later entry in his log cites the trial of a traveler that arrived in the nearby village shortly before he did. Selvarius recounts the bizarre trial culminating in a capital sentence for the traveler, accused of murder of two in guests the night he arrived. An eyewitness recounted the distinctive silhouette of the traveler's foreign cloak and hat. The man's only defense was that it was not his silhouette, but that of his shadow somehow given life and evil sentience.

Selvarius dismisses these as the desperate ramblings of a murderer.

This was Selvarius' final entry. He disappeared from that very village in the following week.

Next: The Grinning Spire

 

[howandwhy99]

The Grinning Spire

Climbing up the howling hills,
Evading foe and braving chills,
Treading past the pools of fire,
Ye may see the grinning spire.

High and mighty it does loom,
Mark of fear and death and doom,
Standing bone with skull atop,
Breathless mass to make hearts stop.

Upon this mount ye must stalk,
Curling winds, ground white as chalk,
Whisper'd words entice those near,
Who among ye has no fear?

Soundless cries insane from rage,
Knowledge none have set to page,
Future, past, and time unknown,
Listen close for what ye've sown.

Mind expands and knows no shore,
Eyelids close and know no more,
Bones collapse to join the pile,
The standing skull bears a smile.



Next: The Sempiternal Sands

 

[kiznit]

Arise, fell thread... from the grave, I command thee!

The Sempiternal Sands

There is a place found in the Arashki Desert where no winds blow across the duneless landscape and the horizon stretches on like some infernal tideless ocean of sand, broken only occasionally by jaggedly huge shards of obsidian, scattered as if rained down from some unfathomably large volcanic eruption.

It was the traveling merchant-wizard Jon'Dath Al Havisaam who first detected the planar anomolies that drift through that place, swirling from one shard to the next. When he consulted the Ogrish Oracle Dessemina, she told him that the Sempiternal Sands are the remnants of the once-great city-state of Lassardikar, whose god-king boasted of the 39 efreeti he had enslaved in his palace.

Apparently someone heard of his boasting.

Next: Grindle Falls

 

[mythusmage]

Grindle Falls

It is not large as falls go, more a smallish stream tumbling down a rocky slope. It's possible it was once much greater, but that was back when it was a few miles downstream and the rains came more often and heavier.

Tales are told of Grindle Falls, of the treasure to be found behind the rushing waters, an of the fell spectre that guards it. Many were those who went in search of the treasure, armed against the foul spirit.

But there is no treasure, or spectre as such. It is the Falls that spreads the story, using its arcane powers to implant the rumors in the minds of passers by. For Grindle Falls is an unliving spirit. A spectre of preternatural potency and malice that seeks to draw in the greedy and witless that it may feed upon their pain and despair.

Grindle Falls draws the life out of a person, steadily weakening the victim until he is naught more than a shambling corpse of what he had once been. Most times the victim is destroyed, collapsing in a veil of wind blown dust. Sometimes Grindle Falls lets the soulless body wander the land, ostensible victims of the fictional spectre said to haunt the falls.

Next: The Well of Too Efficient Healing

 

[Psion]

Next: The Well of Too Efficient Healing

"The Well of Healing the locals called it. 'Go there, but mind you rest after using it' they said. Me and what was left of my unit had welcomed news of a healing well, left over from the ancient empire. My lieutenant was nervous, but I had heard of such artifacts of the ancient empires, and figured they might know what they were talking about.

"We went there, salvaged a bucket, and drew up a pailful. My men were nervous, I could see, so I was first to tend to my wounds with the water. I dabbed it on with a cloth, and sure enough, my wounds sealed up. I was hale and whole within minutes!

"The rest of my men followed suit. Harack, my lieutenant, suggested that we get on the road and rejoin the fight. We had already sacked one gnoll encampment and scored a somewhat costly victory, but if we joined the rest of the brigade in the mop-up, we could really turn this to our advantage! I regarded what the villager had said, but thought he was alluding to some strength-sapping effect, like some healing-loams in the free cities uplands have.

"Little did I know that it was nothing of the sort -- and that I was setting my men up for their doom. We encountered a gnoll unit obviously fleeing from the hawk company to our west, obviously angling to take shelter in the village and take hostages. All the men seem to be strong, so we engaged them.

"It didn't take long to learn something was amiss. After the lad Kellen took a light blow, he dropped surprisingly quickly and a blow that did not look like it landed that hard to me. But when I saw a second man go down as a gnoll nicked his arm, I noticed something was amiss. His wound filled in rapidly, but the regrowing flesh didn't stop growing! He soon had a bulbous mass of flesh growing up his arm and knocking him off balance... enough for the gnoll to land a second blow, slaying him.

"I was ready to sound the retreat when I realized the well had done this to us. But it was too late. Soon they fell 5 more men, Harack included. When Harack went down, the three men on his side started to bolt, but were mowed down by the gnolls. After felling two more of the beasts and trying to regroup the remainder, I took a blow myself and could feel the mass growing on my side. I collapsed to the ground. The gory display of warped flesh must have spooked the gnolls, for their leader sounded a retreat, and left me to live with the knowledge of the mistake that I had made...

[sblock=Rules Stuff]
Those who drink or apply water to their wounds from the well of too efficient healing gain fast healing 1 for 1d4 days. This works normally for wounds already existing.

However, if a character takes any HP damage after the application of the well water but before its effects lapse, the character must make a Fortitude save (DC 15) or be stunned for 1d4 rounds and suffer one point of con damage per point of HP damage inflicted, as the growing flesh bursts forth from the wound.
[/sblock]

Up next: The fractured plains.

 

[blargney the second]

The fractured plains

Dark, hexagonal, freestanding basalt columns are this region's namesake. Although their tops are all on the same level, the cracks between them vary in depth from a few feet to over one hundred feet deep. The cracks are inhabited by tribes of thri-kreen, gelatinous dodecahedrons, monstrous insects of all sorts, and half-fiendish monstrous spiders that spin their webs between the columns (they have six legs and two grasping foreclaws).

Reality is warped in the fractured plains - everything happens in multiples of six, and geometry favors 120 degrees. Columns range in size from five feet across to several hundred feet. Most are topped with hardy grasses, while some have copses of low, rugged trees. Although no buildings can be seen on the plain's horizon, there are rumours of towers and dungeons carved into some of the larger columns.

[sblock=Rules]Here's your excuse to use the hexagonal side of your flip-mat! Unearthed Arcana (and the SRD) have rules for using hexes.[/sblock]
-blarg

Up next: Mourning Glory Meadow.