Dungeon 184
Dungeon 184
4e
Ghoul: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Risen Ghoul: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Ghoul Ambusher: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Starving Ghoul: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Mob Ghoul: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Field Ghoul: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Howling Ghoul: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Scarred Ghoul: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Lacedon: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Beth Harwick: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Echoe of Despair: ?
Echo of Madness: ?
Elisa: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead. Twisted by the power of the shard, those he slew shuddered into cursed unlife and hurled themselves at those who had once been their friends and families in a frantic attempt to sate an eternal hunger. In that single night, nearly the entire population was turned or ripped to bloody, screaming shreds, leaving only a handful of desperate survivors to be dragged, thrashing, from their bolt holes in the ensuing days. Soon, only the wailing howls of the risen ghouls sounded over Hampstead.
Darien, Ghoul Lord of Hampstead: Three weeks ago, a young farmer named Darien uncovered a jagged shard of bone while working his fields just outside the city of Hampstead. He pocketed it as an idle curiosity, since the shard seemed to glimmer as if polished, despite the number of cuts and notches that it bore.
An idle curiosity it was not, tragically. The shard was a bit of planar detritus, fallen through the weave of reality to come to rest in the fields near Hampstead. It originated in the stygian depths of the Abyss, in the domain known as the White Kingdom, which is situated within the hellish realm of Thanatos. There the shard had once been part of an unfortunate victim or foolish crusader who met a terrible end at the hands of Doresain, the Ghoul King, Lord of the White Kingdom, and exarch of the demon lord Orcus. After a perfunctory feasting, gnawing, and cracking, Doresain discarded the shattered, leftover remains in short order, but even this passing contact was sufficient to imbue them with a spark of the warping power of the Abyss and an echo, however pale, of the Ghoul King’s immortal hunger.
Soon after finding the shard, Darien was plagued with vivid, gruesome nightmares of flashing teeth, bloody flesh, and an unspeakable hunger as ravenous as it was ageless. The unrelenting visions drove him to seek help as they besieged even his waking mind with terrible images and horrific urges, but he found no respite. After weeks of sanity-sapping mental and spiritual strain, the vile influence proved the stronger, sweeping away all that Darien was in a single, terrifying night of brutal slaughter and depraved feasting as the beast that had been Darien fell upon Hampstead.