The Barbarian Prince

The mayor of OGON is involved in the goblin slave trade. Goblins entering OGON are routinely hassled and arrested for minor or trumped up charges and fined outrageous amounts. Any goblin unable to pay is given the choice of having both hands chopped off or servitude. A goblin uprising is fomenting. Read More

A stone & wood bridge connects this region of farmland to the city of OGON to the North. Farmers's children maintain a constant watch to stop crop thieves from the nearby mountains & forest.

A small group of goblins make their home in the mountains and engage in banditry throughout the region. They are led by Mogden, a hulking brute of a hobgoblin. Read More

Former fields, now flower filled meadow, with the ocassional picturesque ruined farmstead. Read More

Haunted hills of broken red stone poisoned and lifeless from exposure to the BALEFUL SIGN atop the pillars in the desert below (0206), sifting through the crumbling rock will find some marked with strange glyphs, seared on thier surfaces by ancient heat. Read More

4 harpies are staked to the ground with iron chains. They have been partially defeathered and covered in honey. They know a secret route between the oases in the KABIR DESERT. They are also ravenous. One of the harpies wears a silver band around one of its talons. Read More

Crumbling red hills, broken rocks and ancient foundations seared clean of life by the BALEFUL SIGN 0206 and haunted by the strange spirits of thier former residents, whose malevolent ghosts appear as shadow, disappearing at noon and night, and stretching, larger and stronger as the sun crosses above. Read More

Meadow and grassland, the citizens of ANGLEAE construct wooden effigies here. Scareceows with large round heads painted white. Hundreds of the things dot the otherwise placid land all facing the hills to the North. Read More

The town of ANGLEAE has odd traditions, a secret local langauge, and its residents share a similar pale cast to the haggard features that hang beneath thier moon pale eyes. They aren't unfriendly and will trade in wool and copper, but they are unwilling to talk about thier past. The town shrine to a moon god hides texts in the same glyphs that mark the pillars to the North (0206) with the BALEFUL SIGN Read More

Residents of ANGLEAE graze thier flock of red and white sheep, and spiral horned goats on these meadows. Flocks are guarded by armed shepards and accompanied by huge white dogs with warty skin that can turn aside arrows. Read More

This part of the forest is old – very, very old. The trees are gnarled and twisted, and the floor is ankle-deep in leaf-litter. The canopy is thick and visibility is poor. There is a dryad watching the party, an essential spirit of the woods – it is entirely invisible but will attack if the forest is not respected. If the party passes through without disturbing anything too much, they will find a bronzey leaf next to their fire next time they camp. It gives the owner advantage on stealth checks. Read More

Fine open grasslands covered in thick sod that occassionally rises in od hummocks. Beneath some of these hummocks are ancient barrows or even stranger, the ruined, dirt fused remains of even older machines. Read More

The barrow studded meadows here are deceptively safe. The swamp to the South is exapnding slowly, and a carpet of yellowing sod coneals many pools of icy water that have bubbled up from below. A carefree traveller can easyily fall through the wildflower and grass strewn surface and drown, trapped in the muck beneath. Read More

A cold swamp fed both by the Nesser river and several springs of icy cold water from deep in the earth. The LLEWYLLA MOOR was once home to a vast field of ancient barrows, but most have now sunk beneath the slime and rotting vegitation of the cold swamp. Ancient bodies hang here and thier in the red acidic waters, perserved in thier tomb finery of blackened leather and carved bone sigils that promise potent curses. Read More

The moor here is less watery then on the North side of the river, and fewer barrows vomit up thier anicent dead here, but it is a desolate and morbid place all the same. A large mound visivble from the river appears to be the work of ancient builders, and if excavated contains a rude stone step pyramid and the tombs of ancient kings protected by the gods of carrion and terrible curses. Read More

An encampment of goblins, a number of double-amputees among their number, are readying for a major battle. Read More

Regularlly cut by the men of GALDEN the forest here is full of logging roads and has an oddly manicured feel. Read More

Charcol burners out of GALDEN have built thier poor huts here and tend thier mounds with stoic indifference to goblins (0116) or the spectral wolf they say hunts thier adolescent men. Read More

Three shepherds cull a herd of blue-eyed piebald sheep, slaughtering any animal that does not have at least 2 patches of black wool. Read More

These well manicured meadows are filled with small streams and numerous butterflies. Read More

A herd of wild aurochs graze the luscious grasses here. The massive patriarch-bull has blue-hued hair and hide. Read More

The Steward of Drogat Castle believes that the luscious blue grass here provides the best feed for the "King's Herd" and all other domestic animals are forbidden from grazing here under penalty of fine for thier masters and 2 days of hanging by thier thumbs for the unfortunate beast. This fact is noted by an ocassional post with a worn handbill tacked to it. Herdsmen armed with long whips, slings and steerhide jackets (some with horns attached) graze a herd of over one hundred fine cattle here most days. Read More

Less a forest and more a garden, the Steward of Drogat maintains this land as a preserve for the "King's Hunt", and the animals (though 'culled' see (0323)) have never been hunted. Does fed only on lilac are carefully fattened (and then starved for better access to thier skin for glove making), rabbits eat buttercup oblivious to the young pages who mind them (and carefully lead off any who aren't the purest white for slaughter), and all the while hard eyed foresters, ledger or long bow in hand, watch from thier hidden blinds among the ancient oaks. Read More

A blind and mute ferryman offers passage across the TRAGOTH RIVER. At the sloping foot of a mountain, a tavern keeper serves food that turns any who eat it into a piebald sheep. The sheep are turned over to a fallen druid named Erd, who sells the sheep to farmers near GALDEN (Hex 0216). Once a month, Erd allows the tavern keeper to groom her elk mount, which is actually the tavern keeper's son who is being held hostage. Read More

Great woods tumble down in a cacophony of root and branch and heavy bough, hugging the TRAGOTH RIVER and resound with the chittering of the _Red Squirrel Clan_ of sentient dire squirrels. The squirrels guide friendly visitors along the Paths of Portage for a fee, but deeper in the woods _mushroom traps_ and _poison ivy pits_ block and confuse access to the sentient, sessile GREAT OLD LINDEN. Read More

The squirrels' Paths of Portage drive through beneath heavy boughs, giving fee-payers easy access further south. In the tangles, however, _Flying Squirrels_ hide access to the GREAT OLD LINDEN. The Great Old Linden has magic abilities as a lich, though applying to mushrooms, trees and squirrels instead of the undead. Read More

The trees give way to the shattered shale and lumpen limestone levees, rising up like mute testament to some forgotten lithic civilization. Gargantuan stone axes and scrapers may be found. In some caves the bones of dire cave bears are arranged in crued curse forms, covered in dust and forgetfulness. In the heart of the stones is a GLEAMING TRIPORTAL of polished lilac lepidolite (a kind of mica) with circular key altars that fit the meteoric iron statue and the god beast flesh statue. A giant cavebear wight is said to haunt the ruins and seek riddles and mice. The Triportal can be activated as a teleportation hub. A meteoric iron statue from (912) creates a link with that location. Using the portal has a 40% chance of casting stoneskin on the user and a 30% chance of slow. Read More

Broken red rock hills that side uneasily into a glassy cracked sheet of fused sand. The landscape was seared long ago by the BALEFUL SIGN, The hills are safe enough, though bare and lifeless, but the razored fragments of the glassy desert will quickly maim horses and even travellers on foor who lack armored boots. Read More

The ruins of an ancient megastructure, tall pillars of white gleaming stone, driven into the earth like fallen arrows. Each pillar is featureless save for strange glyphs 10' high near thier tops THE BALEFUL SIGN. If the unknown glyphs are read in the correct order they will emit searing rays that will poision the land around. Harpies nest atop the pillars, each nest plotting against the others. Nearby a poison oasis is surrounded by bones. Read More

An old road ends here among shattered hills. The ruins of a fortress, molten by the ancient magics of the BALEFUL SIGN guard the road where it cuts off in a chasm of cracked burnt looking rock. The magic twisted geometery of the fortress is haunted by more shadow ghosts and howling spectres, but beneath its ruins is a sealed arsenel of strange weapons. Read More

A wide ancient roads leads from ANGLEAE into the wastes to the North. Moon worshipping 'renegades' from the nearby town camp here with thier giant pale dogs, and waylay travellers to sacrifice in orgiastic monthly rituals. Read More

Gentle rolling land with a long low ridge provide more pasture for Angleae's shepards and thier huge pale dogs. This is ANGLEAE's breadbasket and dells and meadows here have been plowed and planted with round bluish white-squash and large grained barley on ugly yellow stalks. Armed farmers sleep among the stalks during the harvest and planting seasons. Read More

These wildflower strew meadows are the haunt of a ratlegged devil wearing a mask made of cracked china. She sings beautifully, accompanying herself on a small drum, though her songs are always tales of love that end in murder. She will cheerfully trade mortal souls for information. She knows many things (can answer one question truthfully per soul sold) but has clauses voiding any deal that will reveal the secrets of the Gods. Read More

A band of 41 Southern spiderherd desperados, clad in quilted silk armor and large hats. They seek to beseige the town of Wickfordwith thier light repeating crossbows until it gives up it's priests, who they will toruture with thier wavy bladed fighting knives until they admit to blasphemous moon worship and human sacrifice. The warband is led by a foolish young noble atop a giant spider, who dabbles in horomancy, the sorcery of time, but fancies himself a true magus. Read More

Troubadors, bards and minstrels of the most saccrine kinf beleive these picturesque cliffs over the Nesser River offer a perfect spot for contemplation, songwriting and moddy reflection. There are currently 23 silk and velvet clad romantics here takignthe airs, and at least 8 of them would be happy to put a dagger or courtsword into anyone lacking in artistic appreciation. Read More

Boggy moors that stretch south to the river, interrupted by the ocassional ancient barrow, it's lintel stones marked with sigils that promise sinister curses for any who dare despoil it. The waters here are acidic and red, with corpses and bones washed from the barrows - some of which will rise from the muck to drown travellers, or crawl to seek the warmth of a campfire at night. Read More

The heart of LLEWYLLA MOOR, where the barrows and thier mummified fruit are the thickest. The ancient bodies that float here are often shrouded with a strange vines, growing directly from thier leathery flesh. These vines produce white and black flowers that whipser the stories of the dead the plants devour, and thier sparse blue leaves are known as Yrr leaf, sacred to the acolytes of Zhor. Read More

The sheep herd of GALDEN are often grazed here before slaugther, fattened on the rich grasses that grow waist high among small bogs and pools. Read More

The eyes of the people of GALDEN have rectangular pupils. The citizens are never seen in less than groups of three. The town's economy is heavily based on processing the piebald sheep raised in the surrounding countryside. Spinners, weavers, tanners, butchers, and even a glue factory do brisk trade here. A visit to the slaughterhouse reveals that Galden sheep have human-shaped skulls. Read More

The fields, once fertile, have been burned and thrice-blessed in an attempt to clear a fungal rust that infested the farmers' prize barley. Read More

The forest here has been spared the axe in deference to a 'methuselah' tree which has engulfed and lifted a bluestone menhir 40 feet into the air. While the tree is regularly struck by lightning during storms, it does not burn. The only result of the strikes is to cause the menhir to glow in an uneartly green light. Read More

The tyrannical Steward of DROGAT CASTLE has decreed that a giant compass rose is cut here in the turf, carefully tended by starving wretches fro the Steward's expansive dungeons. Lime filled trenches are cut into the land by skeletal figures under the watchful eye of manitocre mounted knights far above. The knights will swoop down on any who appear to slack or falter, offering them to thier mounts to devour. The compass is allegedly an act of devotion to encourage the return of the lost king of DROGAT CASTLE. Read More

In a copse in the wood is a massive, gnarled tree in what appears to the the shape of a gaint, grasping hand. There is a hole bi g enough for a demi-human or goblin to walk through and a full human to walk through. Following the hold into the tree and underground leads one to THE TEMPLE OF THE HAND. Here you will find goblins whose hands were cut off in the town of OGON (Hex 101) supplicating themslves. If one successfully sneaks in undetected, they will witness hands crawl out of nooks and crevasses and, after feeling around for a worthy recipient, attach themselves to selected amputees. The hands are intelligent parasites that will make their hosts stronger, more dextrous and able to cast wizard or cleric spells. They will dominate the goblins, and attempt to kill any intruders they detect..unless the intruder is herself an amputee. If captured by a PC who has lost a hand, and its ego is overcome, the PC may attach the hand to herself and treat it as an intelligent sword that imbues one of the abilities mentioned above. If the ego overcomes them, they will become a servant to The Cult of The Hand and face an strong compulsion to cut off the hands of others and lead them back here. The Cult has members in OGON and throughout the realm. The hands purpose beyond attacting more hosts is unknown. Read More

Anyone wandering this section of forest at night on a full moon will encounter the Wyld Ride hunt of the Seelie Court. If they can succeed at a moderate Charisma or Diplomacy (or similar) check, they can join the hunt. The Seelie fey will reward them with simple charms or blessings if they successfully add to the joy of the hunt (DM discretion) and will punish them with simple curses or hexes for ruining it. Once joined, PCs that stray from the hunt are hunted by Rougarou, the Hound (use dire wolf stats but double HD and vulnerable to cold iron) of the Seelie Court until sunrise or they return to the hunting party. If they see the hunt all the way through, it ends in a dawn bacchanalia that will leave the PCs with a wicked hangover.

16 cows walk unceasingly in a circle, Should a cow die (naturally or by the sword), another cow wanders in from the northeast and assumes its place, the dead being pummeled into the earth. The ground beneath their hooves is trampled to bloody, pulpy mud. In the middle of the circle, a strange rune has been burned into the earth. Read More

This area is dominated by the SPINE OF THE WORLD a non-magical rod of pure force about 2 inches in diameter and extending from the ground vertically in both directions (i.e. into the ground and the sky) for, as far as anyone knows, forever. It has an oppolescent shean much like mother of pearl but takes on irridescent colors from the sun, the moon and stars. It is neither hot nor cold to the touch and is perfectly smooth and nearly frictionless. It is surronded for about a mile in all directions by flooded diggings and structures built over melenia as peopleof various races have tried to determine just what the heck it is; the whole area is therefore reminiscent of the Somme battlefieds of 1916. At the foot of the SPINE itself is a shaft of perhaps a mile deep about 50 feet across, the greatest legacy of the historical investigations, in which the SPINE stands like an impossibly tall drinking straw in a riduiculously huge tumbler; the effect enhanced by the fact that the bottom of the shaft is full to an unknown depth with rainwater run-off. Many passages branch off the shaft, twisting and turning either up to the surface or down to the depths. Monsters are known to make lairs in these and the area is shunned for that reason: along with the fact that the impossibility of the SPINE creeps most people out. However, every now and then some mad archmage or dotty high priest spends to much time with with the mercury/incense and concocts a theory about how the the SPINE must be harnessed/destroyed/investigated/protected etc.and therefore becomes willing to invest money and blood on their obsession. What, if anything, the SPINE thinks of all this, it keeps to itself.

The passes through these mountains stink with the smell of rotten flesh, and great wheeling murders of rooks swarm above. Along each of the three passes, the slavers of OGAN impale goblin slave they catch trying to escape of defeated goblin warriors. At night the spirits of the tortured goblins wail like harsh winf through the rocks. They can devour and replace the soul of any human infant brought here. Read More

A hidden natural fountain springs from the ground here. Its waters can heal and calm any that bath in it for at least an hour. Local monsters know this and frequently check on it for prey (roll encounter: 1d6: 1 = 1d12 goblins led by goblin shaman, 2 = Troll, 3 = Ettin, 4 = 1d8 Gnolls, 5 = Young green dragon, 6 = 2d4 Evil Centaurs serving an evil druid)

A hidden village nestled in the foothills, where they worship a female android nurse (recovered from the mysterious ruins deeper in the Barrier Peaks) as a goddess. As long as the goddess is given the sacrifices she demands, generally certain herbs and sometimes animals, she can provide the villagers with a healing spray that cures 2d12 hit points three times per day, and an injection that can cure disease/poison or radiation poisoning once per day. The people of the village have learned to speak her language sufficiently to request cures and understand her commands. The villagers will resist anybody trying to take away their goddess, and the goddess will try to remain with the villagers unless commanded by somebody equipped with a violet or higher card. Read More

A lifeless waste, watched by scrawny harpies and difficult to cross due to the heat and razor edges of sand fused into glass that hide beneath the dust here. Crossing the sands will maim horses and lacerate travelers on foot if the who wear armored boots. Read More

Broken Hills above a the tractless waste, bordered by a thin line of grassy meadows. A small wagon and campsite at the edge of the waste is the temporary home of Redfaced Vindin a petulent scholar of antiquities and part-time tomb robber. He is currently using a telescope to copy the writings on the pillars at the small desert's center 0206 Read More

Meadowlands dotted with round faced scarecrows. A few of the bundles of sticks and rags are actually the poorly disguised bodies of dead travellers, sacrificed by the moon cultist renegades who lurk along the road nearby (0208). Read More

Sparse trees soon turn into a forest of oak and beech, filled with feral pigs that feast on fallen nuts and acorns. They are unafraid of man and aggressively territorial. All answer to the authority of the SAINT OF SWINE (0409) Read More

The stream the party has been following through the forest is suddenly running with gold: and growing from the bank is a silver tree with diamonds in place of leaves. These are both illusions, sprung by a satyr (the stream) and a sprite (the tree) having a competition (DC18 to detect): whichever one the party “falls for” first, the corresponding creature wins the bet. They will reveal themselves at this point and fight over the winnings, the loser refusing to pay up. The party could offer a trinket to settle it, or help the winner beat up the loser and take what's theirs, or whatever. Read More

A tribe of lizardfolk inhabit the moors, fiercely defending their territory from interlopers. Their shaman-priestess, Gugh, carries an enchanted trident, insurance against the occasional restless undead found in the moors. Read More

The Moors here were the last stand of the Kipht, a rebel fanatic-army vanquished a few generations back. They were slaughtered to the last man in the boggy terrain. Their dead do not rest easily, and skeletons and wights plague the moors.. Read More

Guar herds occupy the forests ringing the moors. The reticent herbivores are generally noctunal, avoiding explorers and poachers. The scarred dominant male bristles with broken arrows and boarspears, trophies of his run-ins with poachers. Read More

A farmer & his daughter stand on the roof of a barn as a herd of Carnivorous Antelope devour a flock of chickens. The daughter pines for a life of adventure away from home. Read More

A herd of Carnivorous Antelope battle a mischief of Ratcoons. A squadron of Flying Monkeys watches from the branches of a small copse of trees, swapping bets and pointing out the better parts of the action. The monkeys are led by Serjeant Red Hand and are armed with javelins and short swords. They are currently under contract to the Steward of DROGAT CASTLE (HEX 0323). Read More

Beautifully maintained farmland, with picturesque farms of unusual wealth. The farmhouses nearest to the road are locked, and those further form it prove to be potemkin shells of gaily painted plaster. The Farmers will be seen at twilight, bleak eyed men and women, who return to thier spartan barracks in DROGAT CASTLE each night. During the day they are guarded by plate clad footmen with flat, mechanical affects and the ocassional ribbion bedecked, manticore mounted knight.

Drogat Castle is know as the Castle of (false) Smiles by most in the region. It is a formidable fortress, its lower works made from ancient black stone, sagging with time and the effect of ancient seige weapons in places, and its upper works newer, fashioned of dark and light stone to give the entire place a checkerboard pattern. Drogat is well garrisoned, rish and very proud. It is ruled by the 19th Steward of Drogat, as the last King vanished, leaving only a young son who died mysteriously. The stewards have been excellent in maintaining Drogat's marches, but have a tendency to claim the missing King's rights as an excuse to minutely manage and direct everything in thier purview towards greater and greater profit. The knights of Drogat ride Black or white manticores and number 24, while the guards, foresters, footmen and levies are far more numerous. Read More

A pitifully small band of goblins dwells in a ramshackle treehosue of bark and twigs here, hunting in the forest for mushrooms and small animals. They fancy themselves far more ferocious then they are, and will loudly and proudly proclaim thier love of 'manflesh', though none have ever tasted it, and thier descriptions of its succulence, flavor and effects can easily be confused with other near mythical foods such as strawberries, pound cake and strong spirits. If flattered and told they will be paid in 'manflesh' several of these creatures may be willing to take mercenary or henchman work. Read More

Nestled in the peaks, is a small human settlement (20 commoners) beneath the south face of the tallest mountain in the range. Rare Silver Bears make their homes in caves in this region and their pelts are quite valuable (as are their claws, teeth, bones, etc...). Deeper inside the caves reside mountain trolls (as troll but +2 HD, resistant to weapon attacks, and gray in color). The trolls are rarely seen out of the caves but it is rumored that their leader still carries the greatsword "Urkushu", legendary weapon of Ezeke Wildmane the lost barbarian hero who sought to kill the great mountain trolls.

Among the crags and caves of nesting swallows that fill these mountains a pale stone cenotaph stands. Climbing to it is dangerous but a close examination reveals that it tells a story of conquest with pictures and strange glyphs, much like the language of the BALEFUL SIGN. The carvings speak of an army embarked atop great stone spears cast down from the moon to punish its terrestrial enemies with searing magical fire. Read More

Ten boulders are precariously stacked in a tower more than 100 feet high here. It is unknown who stacked them or why. A rare bird whose eggs are sought for magical properties nests on the highest boulders.

A strange rock formation, a giant hollow boulder, carved with windows and strange petroglyphs and pearched precariously atop a spire of crumbling red stone marks the edge of the BALEFUL SIGN's infulence. The rock was once home to a band of silent hermits, but is now a lair for a small fanatical cult of moon worshipping bone puppeteers. Read More

These low polluted hills were lightly seared by the BALEFUL SIGN long ago, revealling rish seams of copper belwo the topsoil. The people of ANGLEAE have set up several pit mines, which they work lackadasically during the summer and early winter. The miners claim to be entirely unaware of any moon cults nearby (0406), (0208). Read More

Seven cabins are just inside the northern edge of the forest here, spread out from east to west over half a mile. They show no signs of recent inhabitance, save one, at the far west end were a hunter has taken residence. The others are all marked on their doors with elven sigils of warning and danger. Feral elves have chased off the inhabitants and will permit no mortals to reside here. The hunter is left alone because he is no mere mortal. What he is, scares even the feral elves.

Deep in the oldest part of the oak forest resides the SAINT OF SWINE an enormous boar, 10' tall at the shoulder. When it's huge jagged tusk mouth is open the head and placidly smug, ageless face of a man is revealled, filling the unnatural beast's entire maw. The SAINT OF SWINE is forever trapped within the boar's gullet, mean-spirited, boarish, boorish but alive, and only truely malicious to those who carry pig flesh in thier provisions. He dislikes the fey who play games in his forest (0310) and the has heard of the Dryad across the meadow (0111) who the Saint wishes to convert to his porcine faith. Read More

Swampland only remarkable for its unsurpassing ugliness and the extraordinqry gluelike quality of its grey mud. Read More

The townspeople complain of a plague of Ratcoons--rats with the markings and size of racoons. A tavern patron says he's seen similar creatures prowling the forest's edge on the road between HALOWICH and LOWER DROGAT. Read More

A single cow walks unceasingly in a circle on bloody stumps; it hooves are worn away to the ankle. The ground beneath the cow is trampled to bloody, pulpy mud and the battered and trampled carcasses of 255 cows are strewn about the circle. In the middle of the circle, a strange rune pulses and glows an eerie purplish-green light. From the center of the rune, pale white tentacles with hundreds of fanged beaks thrust out from the earth. The forest is completely silent. Read More

The farmers and their sons here loathe outsiders and shun any interactions with strangers. They are outright rude and violent. The farmers's daughters and wives, however, attempt to seduce every stranger they meet, regardless of gender. Every farm has at least six housecats and every farmhouse features a black granite carving of a curled-up, sleeping cat. Mice and rats are nowhere to be found; indeed, even domesticated mice and pet rats go out of their way to avoid traversing this section of land. Read More

There is a curious temporal anomaly in a valley in the middle of this hex – time here runs at triple speed. The area is deserted, since the aging effects are terrifying, but one or two farmers live on the other side of the hills and visit profuse orchards to collect triple harvests. Crossing this hex takes double time . Read More

Rulf Half-man lives in this hex – a long-lived and unpleasant half-orc hermit. Actually extremely stupid. He inhabits a cave and brews massively powerful cider using wild apples: he is drunk on it most of the the time. He will sell it, swap it for news of the outside world, or just give it away when drunk enough. He also owns 3 apples of life, which grow on one specific tree near his cave once every 9 years and do not rot. Eating an entire one is the equivalent of having greater restoration cast on you. Rulf doesn't know much but he knows what they are, and how precious they are. Read More

More desolate grey mud, stinging midges and ragged brown lilypads. A friendly but off-putting old woman named Rizzela Punt lives in an half flooded barge festooned with dirty flags made of rags that is capsized near the bank of the Nesser river. She sells dried frog jerky, 'swamp pearls', and hallucination producing incense. Read More

32 cows walk unceasingly in a circle, Should a cow die (naturally or by the sword), another cow wanders in from the northeast and assumes its place, the dead being pummeled into the earth. The ground beneath their hooves is trampled to bloody, pulpy mud. In the middle of the circle, a strange rune has been burned into the earth. Read More

An overturned merchant's wagon blocks the road. The merchant and his assistant are dead; they have been gnawed to death. Their wagon contains succulent melons and gourds; eating any of the melons grants an immunity to disease for 24 hours. The gourds are just gourds. A dead Ratcoon is crushed under the wagon. Read More

An idiot savant performs magical experiments on small forest creatures in a dilapidated cabin. Strange hybrids such as star-nosed weasels and skunkbadgers stalk the woods. Read More

The strange, weathered outcrop of rock here is known in local folklore and ancient legends as Belazias' throne: supposedly it looks like a huge chair. Anyone clambering up to sit in it can see further than seems natural – PC can choose to look at something (their home, the next hex, their target) and DM must give them some surveillance info about it – but the player must take a DC15WIS save or be affected by a long-term madness as per DMG260. Read More

A temple has sunk into the muck of the bog. The doors are beneath the waterline, but at least two stones in roof are moveable. A band of 13 Frog People are performing cleansing rights within the temple; they are furious if interrupted. Within the temple's treasure room are the skeletal remains of twelve harpies; each has a silver band fastened around one talon. If the talons are removed, the harpy skeletons animate and attack. Read More

Wretched swamplands of grey mud and brown ropey weed that ends in ragged liliypads. The swamp is home to four catoblepus, who, while solitary beasts of great gllom, lair at the foot of a pile of black rock, that also shelters an enormous colony of freshwater mussels which produce a profusion of lumpy green pearls. Read More

The land to the North is filled with savage tribes of might thewed warriors, obessed with thier own wars and spiteful cycles of vendetta. Among the knee high blue grass of this area a Barbarian Prince - about nine years old, but still improabaly muscular, carrying a small sword and wearing only a (fancy) fur loincloth - stares into the river. His eyes are watering from the 'dust', he is certainly not crying, but his family to the far North has been slain by raiders and his pony finally died here. If treated kindly he will make a good henchman (F1 - even as a child) but his ultimate goal will always be revenge and conquest. Read More

What appears to be a simple cave is actually the entrance to a strange alien spaceship. The crew is dead, but robots and monsters wander the halls and rooms filled with alien technology. Read More

Green grass grows, tall and hearty among brittle bones. A blnket of them, the spngey yellowed bones of old death, men and horses both with only the mournful wind to tell their tales. Read More

Lovely forest, rich in game and filled with small pools that collect clear sweet water. An abandoned hunting lodge and outlaying camps show signs of recent occupany. Read More

The marsh here has been nearly drained as a dike along the river prevents it from refilling. The Seers at Branwyn's Temple decreed the dike be built as the only way to stop the predations of an enormous Froghemoth that dwells in the center of this isolated swamp. With its habitat diminished, prey vanishing and barely enough water to cover its bulk, the Froghemoth has buried itself in the mud of the swamp and will only rise if the noise of prey (such as human travellers) disturb its semi-hibernation. Read More

The temple is deserted except for a large den of rabid Ratcoons. Hidden beneath the broken altar is an ingot of pure star-metal that burns to the touch. Disease follows it. Read More

There is a weftmeadow here – a strange geomantic occurrence, a weftmeadow looks like am infinitely radially symmetrical piece of pasture, with an odd, dazzling sheen to it, like a field viewed through a soapbubble. There is nothing dangerous in it – in fact it is utterly, perfectly safe – but the party will lose all sense of direction and exit through a random hex. Read More

Hired by the Baron of HALOWICH and the mayor of BRIGUD 26 mercenary hobblers out of DROGAT CASTLE (several have family in CUMRY) led by a renegade knight of St. Cindilla are preparing to eradicate the Hole People colony nearby(1019). Even the callous mercenaries feel a bit chargrined about the mission, pitying the stone age troglodytes - they shouldn't. The Hole People will massacre them, popping out of holes to throw jagged stone spears, while thier dirt caller shaman summon mole swarms to cripple horses and devour the mercenaries who fall prey to the Hole People's inummerable pit traps. Read More

The spiderherds to the South 'graze' thier giant arachnid livestock here as these misty copses of trees are risch in birds. A devil with a mask of beaten copper dwells among the roots of a fallen try here in a cozy moss caulked cottage. She wears a robe made from the skins of hypocritical priests (which still chant incomprehensible prayers). She has no boons to trade but will instantly know the past crimes of anyone who lies to her, and will bind herself to keep this knoweldge secret in exchange for a mortal soul. Otherwise she will reveal the crimes to the proper authorities by letter. The Spiderherds know the Copper Masked Devil's tricks, but prefer not to speak of her. Read More

Semi-permenant camp of over four hundred nomadic spiderherds. Wearing bright silk armor and large absurdly deocrated hats that show thier status and clan affiliations they are happy to trade news and goods, but somewhat fanatical in thier view that all relgions except the worship of Donat is blashphemous. If angered the nomads will fight with repeating crossbows and long wavy bladed daggers. Thier leaders are horomancers (time sorcerers) and often ride special domesticated giant spiders. Read More

2,000 copper-colored housecats watch the mating frenzy of 70 monstrous-sized Blasting Spiders with keening interest. The cats look ready to pounce. Read More

Generations of fervent belief by the warren of Hole People to the Northeast have caused a hideous slug godling - Filthsqaulor the Unhealthful to manifest in a series of water carved caves near the summit of this otherwise unremarkable mountain. The creature is intelligent, very patient and very cruel. It is also still mortal (As Giant Slug). Recently Filthsqualor has started spawning spindly winged, disease spreading, bloodsucking slug demons (as stirges), flocks of which descend from its lair nightly and murder any non humanoid (other then Hole People) they find. Read More

A band of bards and troubadors have set up camp and challenge all whom they encounter to a singing contest. Winners are awarded a half-keg of fine mead. Losers must swallow a live newborn giant slug. The encampment has converted an entire wagon into a slug-egg nursery. There is a 30% chance that one of the bards, if drunk enough, will reveal he was born to the Hole People but escaped several years ago. Read More

The halfling settlement of DOONSBARROW has been overrun by telepathic giant spiders. Those halflings remaining alive are trussed up in silk, mewling in madness as the spiders consume both body and mind. Read More

The camp of several halflings from DOONSBARROW, who were out picking mushrooms when their village was attacked. They have built completely convincing-looking giant-spider-outfits out of unlikely materials, and use them to try to scare off danger. They are planning to infiltrate DOONSBARROW wearing the suits, and free their families from the spiders' silky larder. If they do this, they will all probably die.

The grassland here is home to several rabbit warrens. Close inspection of the grass will reveal a faint grid of different grass species. The rabbits, colored according to their warren, appear to move and displace one another in a giant, undiscernable strategy game. Read More

Jakor was only the most recent of a long line of foolish men to try to rebuild and hold this ancient keep. His demise was predictible, as he and his warband were attakced from below by a mysterious army of dirt clad troglodytes after holding the keep for two years. The RUIN OF JAKOR'S KEEP is a maze of monumental marble columns and detrius of ancient archetecture. It still appears very defensible however. A rough dock of unseasoned green timber is used by barges from WESHOR to steal the ancient stonework. Unknown to any, but obvious to anyone with a knowledge of thier ways, the ground beneath JAKOR'S KEEP contains an enormous and ancient colony of diminuative Hole People. Mostly oblivious to what happens above, and hidden by layers and layers of ruined caves filled with trash and detritus of Hole Person life, the colony will likely remain placid, but if disturbed, it is truely dangerous - A troglodyte empire, thousands strong, ruled with stone-age brutality by a half mole-demon cabal of Earth speaker sorcerers. Read More

A group of three filthy, scabby Hole People, exiles from the Warren to the Northeast (1102), cower in shallow pits during the day and wander confused by night. All three are starving as lichen and slugs are hard to find in this lush grassland. The Hole People speak rudimentary common and if taught about a non-slug based diet might be convinced to act as henchmen (1st level halflings). They are named: Skuto, Reft, and Slugibella, are extremely agoraphobic and carry only stone chopper knives and dirty moleskin cloaks. Read More

The river here is fast, as it narrows between cliff faces carved with ancient stone faces. All of the faces are haggard and drooping like those of the people in ANGLEAE. All of the carved faces appear blind. Read More

Nanofossil studded limestone broken into fantastic shapes and natural bridges, home to wandering cybernetically enhanced terror birds and their natural prey, scab monkey troups who farm the air-filtering anemone-bushes. Chance of space-bending jumpfish mushrooms (on eating, dimension door 1d1000' feet and take 1d6 INT damage, exploding). Also here is a Tomb Museum of the Prelithics carved inside a great eroded cube of nephrite studded concrete. Protected by madmen drawn here by the riddle of meteoric iron, inside a small labyrinth stands the _First Portal_ and the _Statue of Meteoric Iron_. Using the statue at the Triportal at (204)) opens a permanent teleportation tunnel between the two locations. Each use of the tunnel has a 20% chance of casting ironskin on the traveller and a 20% chance of casting sleep. Protective magics or a nephrite amulet protect from this. Read More

This area of forest is silent: there are no sounds of any creature, the wind doesn't stir the trees. The flowers stay closed in daytime, and even the leaves on the trees seem to droop. A very keen-eared person might hear the sounds of many distant weeping voices. A lone elf, wanders the woods destraught for a lost love. They are followed by a band of fairies, who are greatly enjoying their part as a despairing chorus, and magically 'redecorating' the path before and behind them to 'suit the mood'. The elf returns frequently to the side of their dead lover, who fell in battle- the dead elf still wears their bright armor (loots?), and looks as though asleep but for the crimson blossom upon their breast.

Hidden in the center of the swamp, buried 10' under the muck and water is a leather sack, sewn from the skins of children. Placed here long ago by an ancient and wealthy witch seeking immortality. This was her sacrifice to undergo the transformation into a green hag and now she guards this swamp to prevent the theft of her sacrifice, which would undo her foul magical existance. She has also learned to summon and control 1d100 crawling claws once per night and it is the locals knowledge of this that has given the swamp it's name, Severed Swamp.

Hill giant chosen by fairies as their king. He is greatly confused by this state of affairs, but not a little pleased. the fairies will demand proper respect & tribute for their king- all party members should be asked for something, and are expected to one-up each other. If the king is given sufficent tribute, or if the fairies are sufficiently impressed for other reasons, they will prompt their king to somehow reward his loyal subjects. If sufficient tribute is not given, or if attacked, they will call upon their 'king' to save them, and all of them fall about in a great play of distress, avoiding combat themselves but playfully using their magic to interfere with the party.

A dead Hill Giant is trampled into the mud. Close examination reveals she was dragged to this location. Read More

An untended flock of 3,000 sheep trample anything in their path. Read More

The huge swath of countryside is trampled to mud intermingled with bloody chunks of lamb. Read More

Two Hill Giants are locked in a fierce wrestling match while a priest from SULWYTH TEMPLE adjudicates. The priest watches the match intently and warns outsiders not to interfere in the ritual. Read More

An ugly little town of depressingly poorly built cottages. The townsfolk live mostly off robbery, animal trapping and hiring out thier youth as soldiers. many of the towns residents are retired mercenaries and the entire place has an aura of seedy violence. Of late things in CUMRY are on edge as villagers have been discovered in the morning slain by some strange terror, thier slime covered bodies partially melted and drained of blood. Read More

The degenerate mercenry bastards of CUMRY use this flat to train thier youth in the art of "the dirty coin", the mercenaries 'way of survival. The lands themselves are a patchy mess of grass and scrub with a few goat herds and a large number of sadistic animal traps scattered about. CUMRY's elders send gangs of youth here to learn the 'dirty eyegouge', 'possum strangler', 'the irrefutable offer' and 'compound interest' among others essential strategems and moral imperatives of the mercenary. Bands of pugnacious and morally vacant youth roam this land, each led by and elderly, often maimed ex-mercenary with a heart like a shrivled lemon. Read More

31 brigands out of CUMRY are camping here in the forest preparing for a dusk raid on the town of CAWTHER. Most of them are young and poorly armed with spears, wood felling axes and badly made light wooden shields. Nive however are veteran mercenaries in good chain hauberks and equipped with crossbows, longswords, tower shields, and fighting spears. Read More

The townspeople make monthly pilgrammages to SULWYTH TEMPLE to bring offerings of cheese, wine, and sheep. The temple has recently demanded a six-fold increase in these offerings else The Jale God bring His judgement against them. The townspeople are worried they cannot meet these demands. Read More

A rag swaddled devil in a grey oaken mask sets up a red spider silk pavillion here and trades travellers "heart's desires'" for thier souls. He writes the contracts in diabolic, so most of them are full of the typical nasty conditions, but they aren't lies. The Oak Devil's actual powers to grant wishes are very limited and he prefers to use other travelers as his catspaws. Currently he's looking for someone to steal (alive or dead, the contract didn't say) a young woman in a green silk jacket from the Spiderherds (0722) and deliver her to a lust blind idiot farm boy in CAWTHER (1009). He's on a tight schedule so the Devil will pay in the red gold of hell or a favor. Read More

A lovely knight's pavillion of black silk, embroidered with roses and cranes stands by alone in these lavender fields. Appraoching strangers will be met be a limping dwarf with haunted eyes and a black mask. He will inform that his master, a knight of great renown, will fight any who wish to challenge him - and offers 10,000 Gold Coins (The red Gold of Hell again) to any who can defeat him. Loss is to forfeit onself to service to the knight (by which he means forfiet one's soul). The knight of the pavillion is a Seneschal of Hell, and cannot be harmed with normal weapons, likewise his sword of liquid shadows ignores all armor and he knows a word that saps strength (reduces it to 3 for a day) the strength of warriors. He stands regally in black armor with a long black helm like the beak of a crane (under the helm is another similar helm with the same beak). He has hired mercenaries 2020 to scout out AERAVIR CASTLE and his enemy the Regal devil near the castle (2023) who's power he fears. Read More

A new colony of filth smeared diminuative Hole People (as halflings) is digging in here, destorying the lush meadowlands with stone maddocks and intentionally spreading urine to kill plantlife. The colony of 102 (88 combatants) is only a month old and on its first set of shalllow pits, but if asked its members will claim to have "always been here". They are not antisocial and have had a bumper crop of slugs lately that they will offer to outsiders. If they learn of the existence of Filthsqualor the Unhealthful (0804) they will begin praying fervently to him and greatly increase his power. If told of the Hole Person colony to the North ([1102]]) they will deny the possibility of its existence before becoming cranky and hostile. Read More

A temple entirely composed of menhirs, iron blocks (an ostentatious absurdity) and cold grey slate tile. Sulwyth is a god of Stregth, but not self-reflective 'strength of the soul' sort of strength - breaking things strength. the priests of Sulwyth a big muscular fellows, and not a few of them are hill giants, because beign stronger then the other guy, or looking it, is the entrity of Sulwyth's creed. Sulwyth has a fair number of followers, because he's a generous diety to those who have bulging muscles, and his faovrite act of devotion is smashing things. Sulwyth is popular with less thoughtful and skilled blacksmiths and giants. Indeed the mark of Sulwyth (two pythons opposed) can be invoked as a parley sgn with many lesser (hill, mud, stone and forest) giants. The greatest mystery of the temple is a huge iron monolith, called "The immovable" - legend claims that only the avatar of Sulwyth is capable of moving it (though 50lbs of blackpowder would be a start).

Mounds of dirt and rock abruptly rip up from beneath the grasslands. This range of low hills is entirely unnatural, the product of generations of labor by a warren of Hole People. The 3' tall human-like creatures (as halflings) live underground in filthy dirt chambers carved with crude stone tools and subsist on a diet of slugs and lichens they grow in thier holes. Because of thier unsanitary habits Hole People warrens appear largely abandoned, with chamber after chamber of refuse and filth above the inhabited holes of the band. They worship a not entirely unreal slug diety (0804). Read More

Hidden within this swampy area the much diminished Valentini gang has set up a small military-style camp; they imagine the swift waters of the Nester will keep them safe from any vengeful clowns from CUMRY until they can find a good spot to relocate to. At any given time there are 2d6+10 human theives here along with 2d6 frogs. Among these are a cutpurse named Leopardo and the gang's current acting boss, Sebastiano Valentini, a powerful frog fighter. They have abundant treasure.

Above the blasted wastes of this area, a black scree of flint, orange lichen and large thorny shrubs, floats a gleaming bronze paltform. The saucer shaped artifact is home to a group of 45 bone pierced, clay caked berserkers, who descend in the early hours of the morning to hunt and raid in the lands around the platform. They are widely reviled and the people of CAWTHER and CUMRY, as well as the giants and priests of SULWYTH TEMPLE would be pleased to see them die badly. Read More

The black flint scree here contains a fair number of glimmering bleached bones. Read More

Journeyman-morticians drive their black and offal-stinking tumbrills through the pass. They are seeking the battlefield 1205 to pick over the dead and properly inter the dead of the Red Hands. Read More

A band of four (4) robust young hill giants wander, entirely lost, through these mountains snacking on bighorn sheep. The giants are on a pillgramage to Sulwyth temple to try thier strength at shifting the immovable" and wrestling the priests there (they will lose). They don't want to get into any tussels in the meantime, but could really use some 'muscle food' - especially a few juicy bullocks (0122), for which they would pay with the contents of thier sacks (gold and rotten meat) and promises of friendship. The giants are also flumoxed by the twisty little mountain paths here and could use some directions/guidance to SULWYTH TEMPLE, but they won't admit they are lost. Read More

A trio of gnome aeronauts attempt to repair their crashed dirigible. Two of their kin perished in the crash, one of whom was their chief fabricator. Anyone with above-average seamstressing skills will be greatly appreciated to help patch up the airbag. The craft is propelled by an alcohol-fueled Stirling engine. Read More

A village of frog people (3d30) lies half-submerged in the the foulest, most stagnant part of the swamp. The leader of the village and several of the stoutest warriors forged an alliance with a roving band of misfits (Hex 1104) and have been missing for several weeks. The shaman has been making decisions in his stead and has fed all the female froglings highly hallucinogenic Botchi Flies in an attempt to channel the Divine Braaaap of the Frog God. Read More

A battle was fought here recently, between men in bronze and iron armor and men with heavy hide shields and bone scale robes. Both sides have left at least fifty dead on the field, and most of the bodies are unlooted. Carrion and other scavengers gather. Read More

A bastion of reason, good lordship and tolerance, HULDRA CASTLE was once a forbidding fortress devoted to demon gods, and while there's only so much whitewash and bunting can do about monumental skulls as a decor choice, the current Lord Huldra is a welcoming fellow, who wishes only to extend free trade, scientific argronomy and basic rights for all sentitients. He's allied with many of the goblin tribes, and some of the more open towns, but has a distrustful relationship with DROGAT CASTLE's tyrannical Steward and AERAVIR CASTLE's dreamy chauvinism and casual appraoch to slavery. HULDRA CASTLE sponsors many scientific and survey expeditions and is always looking for scouts and adventurers to hire on - though it does require extensive, magically augmented questioning to weed out the evil, corrupted and those lacking a proper respect for the common wheal from its agents. Read More

A platoon of 47 mercenary Flying Monkeys have set up camp. They lounge around cook fires smoking pipes, playing cards (mostly flume), tradings insults, and holding literal pissing contests. Their leader is Serjeant Tan Jerkins, who is looking to raise some fast cash to pay off debts to arms merchants in TULITH (Hex 1415). The platoon is well-armed with crossbows, spears, javelins, war sporks, spiked clubs, and scimitars. The Flying Monkeys are extremely sociable and friendly if approached, but can turn into a snarly mass of fury if provoked. They will not undertake any mission involving Hex 1212. Read More

A knight of St. Cindilla lays dead here, back against a wind twisted tree his white harness covered in curdled blood. HIs war ram, 12' of despondent horned ovine pugnaciousness, stands guard. In the dead knights hand is a map to the lair of Filthsqualor (0804) the Unheathful, a quest he will never complete. Read More

A group of men and women (5) are camped on the plains. They are very aggressive, seeking people they can sacrifice to their ancient pagan gods. When first encountered they will be loudly praying.

Anyone crossing through the forest hex will spy white-furred humanoids out of the corner of their eye. It is yeti breeding season, with the brutes descending from the three surrounding mountain ranges to find appropriate mates. Anyone disturbing a yeti will be pugnaciously attacked. Anyone disturbing a pair in flagrante delicto, doubly so... Read More

A barbarian princess boils the head of her dead husband, terrified to discover if she was right to slay him for indulging in a weak city woman. The brains will form a speak with dead broth. His love was trite. Read More

Tribal scouts of the Iron Rain hunts for signs of their chieftain's eldest daughter (who has run away). A war is brewing between them and their rivals, the Hag Kings, since their eldest children were to marry but have instead, been consumed by dishonour (1304/1305). The Hag Kings, are about to open their barrows and let loose contagious Draugr. Read More

DONAT'S TEMPLE is a tall spire of rock seemingly shaped enitirely by the elements and watered with deep cisterns of midnight black water. Its preisthood is made up of horomancers, time sorcerers, as Donat is the diety of the 13th hour, the brighter noon, and the darker midnight. Donat is a demanding deity, knowing that all other dieties are false because they will eventually fade, while he alone is timeless and always present in every moment simulataneously. Read More

9 knights of St. Cindilla out of WESHOR ride thier hulking, armored, war rams through these torturous mountians. They are on a quest of spiritual errantry, seeking other dieties to worship briefly and perform tasks on behalf of so that thier followers will know of St. Cindilla's perfect magnaminity. They are also violent youthful hotheads and will challenge any mounted and armed traveller they meet to a joust or duel, they are well trained and won't fight fair - but aren't ready to kill anyone intentionally. Read More

A sigil formed by the position of ancient white trees is found in the center of this dense forest. The sigil serves as a ward of imprisonment for an ancient witch, entombed in the earth below the center of the sigil. In her tomb she has used great magics to dig and search for an escape, forming a great labyrinth beneath the forest. She is imprisoned still. Only the destruction of the sigil will grant her escape. None from the nearby settlements will fell a single tree in this wood for fear of releasing her and they prevent all others from doing the same. Any humanoid that rests here is haunted by strange fever dreams of clawing, digging, and suffocating beneath the earth. They feel compelled upon waking to explore and perhaps to dig.

There is nothing here, and the wind whispers it in the ears of travellers as they pass through this great expanse of grass and yellow flowered broom. Read More

64 cows walk unceasingly in a circle, Should a cow die (naturally or by the sword), another cow wanders in from the northeast and assumes its place, the dead being pummeled into the earth. The ground beneath their hooves is trampled to bloody, pulpy mud. In the middle of the circle, a strange rune has been burned into the earth. Read More

19 very devoted lay brothers of the 'reformed' Church of St. Cindilla, led by 'Exalted' Inquistor Remedius Fear Only Hell's Fires have set up an ambush on the North side of the bridge across the Dienstal Branch. They are currently refortifying a long abandoned (and throughly haunted) tower some distance East with more of thier band, but currently guard the bridge and waylay travellers from ambush to force a toll of 10GP each out of them, and 'certifiy purity'. The cultists are obsessed with lychnthropy, but have no reliable method of detecting its taint. They are suspicious of hair eyebrows, silver weapons (how else do werewolves fight eachother), druids, elves, anyone wearing red and bearded men. Read More

An itinerant butcher and his abattoir-wagon are travelling and seeking certain circles of cows. He will cull one, dragging its corpse from the ring, for the meat is held sacred by certain fey, and the butcher recieves good pay in their majicked silver in exchange for the beef. Read More

Hot and fertile these swamps are a balnket of green duckweed and large lotus in many colors. Unlike the fishers across the river (1502) these swamp folk are devote followers of St. Cindilla and pay 60% of thier catch to the bishop at WESHOR. There children are skinny, there nets filled with holes and thier boats unpainted. Read More

A hallowed plot of land, roughly 50', stands out amongst the wilderness. Those of Lawful or Neutral alignment who enter the small patch feel a deep sense of tranquility crossed with the strange urge to stamp out the forces of chaos wherever they may be. Chaotic characters that enter the grove will collapse to the ground in agonizing pain (taking 1 damage per round they remain in the patch) and will be filled with a deep sense of melencoly and foreboding.

Dull countryside, once under cultivation, but now overgrown with brambles and weeds. Crumbled cottages and a few root sellers are haunted by madmen and cannibals. Read More

Crows circle a tree hung with bodies (Hag King Warriors), dangling by their ankles. One, a young woman, lives yet. She claims to be from civilised lands. Her husband was slain by a she devil. Ghouls claw at the bark. Read More

Numerous termite hills, up to 20 feet tall, line the juncture between the plains and badlands. The termites are hyper-intelligent, but communication with these miniscule geniuses is nigh-impossible. The termite hills are heated by nuclear piles excavated and coalesced by the various colonies. While the termites are immune to the effects of radiation, anyone tarrying for three days or more in the presence of the hills will begin to show the effects of radiation poisoning. Read More

Broken lands, where swirling dust shurns constantly above rocks formed into outlandish spirals of black and red. Read More

A group of survivors from the battlefield to the Northwest, 23 warriors with large hide shields and bone scale armor are led by a wounded man in a bone mask. They refuse to explain thier reasons for being here, thier goals or the nature of thier enemies, but know some about the desert to the South and ask anyone they meet if they have seen the 'Red Hands" who they describe as men in bronze and iron armor with absurd crests. Read More

A muscular, sinewy man is staked to the ground spreadeagle with heavy rope. His head and beard have been recently shaved and his chest branded with the shape of a large hand; it oozes blood and pus. Ants and scorpions team over his body, and the headless body of a rattlesnake lies near his head. He refuses to talk about his predicament and will attack anyone who cuts him loose, attempting to bite their ears off. Read More

A flock of harpies feast on a camel. One of them wears a silver band around one talon. It will not attack anyone wearing a matching band. Read More

TULITH boasts a large open market where anything can and will be sold, as the town enjoys the distinction of being the only town in the kingdom where taxes and tariffs are illegal so that commerce may freely flow. Given that many of the goods and services for sale here are banned elsewhere in the kingdom, the town guard's vigorous and disciplined forces are well-renowned. The town guard is empowered to arrest, convict, sentence, and execute criminals for all minor and major infractions, from disturbing the peace to murder; thus, the town enjoys one of the lowest crime rates of the settled lands. The Merchant's Guild has recently learned that several members of the town guard are extorting numerous guild members. Read More

A tumbled tower stands on a rocky crag between the river and the edge of these forbidding grey woods. It is home to 8 fanatical cultists of the 'reformed' church of St. Cindilla, who are currently fixated on hunting werewolves. They wish to rebuild this tower into a 'Bastion of Faith!' and use it as a strongpoint from which to harass and kidnap travellers. The guilds and guard of TULITH are not yet aware of thier buffonish fanaticism but if they were would likely pay well for their extermination, as well as that of thier companions in (1318). The tower itself is haunted by the ghosts of a robber knight and his fourteen brave companions who died defending it from the men of AERAVIR CASTLE in the distant past. They now take the form of giant glossy crows that nest in the towers crumbling battlements. They can talk, but mostly request human eyeballs to devour. Read More

With the face of a solem child and wrapped in a burial shroud this spindly insectile devil poles the waters of the swamp at night in a jaunty red painted raft with paper lanterns hung on its sides. The Devil will rescue those trapped by the swamps grasping quicksand and trecherous waterways without payment as he was bound to do so by an ancient saint. He will still try to trade souls for things beyond rescue (implying recuse is also a condition of the trade) such as food, clean dry clothes. The only magical boon the devil can grant is luck at games of chance (an 80% chance to win any game of chance) which he will also exchange for a mortal soul. Read More

Half sunk in the snakefish infested waters, blocked by half-mobile willow walkers, wallows a pumice palace, trellised by fleshy vines that pulse and blink viciously. Here and there a _giant snapping lilly_ or a _stinging juice sucker vine_ lie in wait for the careless wanderer. Beyond these vegetable villains, in the heart of the pumice palace, gargantuan gabro blocks make a cairn for the quivering, regenerating flesh of the god beast. Pierced by great lances of vitrified radiance, a portal of glass is built where its heart should be. There, a statue of flesh writhes and wriggles in it's radiant jar. Placing the flesh statue on its stand in the TRIPORTAL at (204) opens a yawning teleportation portal to this spot. Using the portal has a 30% chance of casting enlarge on the user and a 50% chance of casting confusion. Holding a piece of raw meat in the mouth protects against this effect. The vitrified radiance can be valuable for crafting weapons that pierce even godly flesh, however, removing too many may release the god beast. Also, both the local fibrous parasites and floating angel wisps may make such activity difficult. Read More

WESHOR is the raindrenched, sooty home of kvass-swilling astrologers and furtraders. Second conquest of the Good Knights of the Temple of St. Cindilla, seven generations past. Here their Prince-Bishop rules without challenge.

Fisherfolk and religious exiles from WESHOR dwell here, living thier lives on flatbottomed boats. The frequently catch large silvery carp and a variety of urchins (including the deadly poisonous ghost urchin) among the carpets of vibrantly green duckweed, bright lotuses and towering reed beds. Read More

6 Ressurectionists camp here, storing thier wares in a set of old stone cisterns at the center of this small forest. They are dirty uncouth men, but have the secret friendship of the Bishop of WESHOR who relies on them to supply saints bones and prophet's bead hairs to his relic greedy flock. They are very uncomfortable around visitors, but try to put on a friendly face and will share thier trade secrets with anyone who promises not to reveal thier camp location. Read More

18 Exhausted warriors fleeing the battlefield to the Southeast rest here under the trees at the forest edge. They wear iron and bronze armor and thier helmets are decorated with tall hand shaped crests, some dipped in blood. Thier leader, a giant of a woman with a broken nose says prayers over a grave containing 54 hand crested helmets. The band will not explain itself, and becomes threatening is pressed. They claim to seek the 'Secret of Steel' and are looking for a group of bone wearing desert dwellers they describe as "The Gristlemen" who they claim have stolen it. Read More

Qarraq the Tamarin, small monkey who keeps an eye on the Vultures of Roc (hex 1908). Secret caretaker of the antidote that may cure the Egg of Rot, should the mighty Roc return. Communicates through sign language, understands common. Carries a small bo staff. Read More

Tarantula stampede! In the middle of the night, a seemingly endless wave of tightly packed enormous hairy spiders crawls over everything in their path like nightmarish multilegged lemmings with fangs. They will not cross flames or pooled liquids, but climb over pretty much anything else. Needless to say, this tends to sow panic amongst hirelings and pack animals, who will attempt to scatter into the surrounding desert. After 15 minutes, the spiders are gone, leaving nothing but a genuinely enormous number of itty bitty footprints. Read More

A number of Carnivorous Antelope corpses are visible, rended apart by a mighty predator. A few large feathers and huge clawed footprints are visible in the grasses. Read More

Marcos Drury lives here on a Mulberry farm. He is famous around the region as the Muffin Man. He travels far and wide selling his Mulberry muffins to all. But he escpecially likes to give muffins away to children. Recently Mr. Drury has come under the influence of an ancient evil force of Chaos and now makes his muffins with a special ingredient. The ingredient causes children who eat the muffin to transform into hideous, murderous monsters. There is no known cure. Read More

A herd of spider-pigs root in the undergrowth and browse in the canopy above. Their pig-herders, wearing the traditional lederhosen and climbing tack of their profession, keep watch on their charges. They will not sell a pig, as they are reserved for roasting at a harvest festival at LULLWYN Read More

A flight of 15 Flying Monkeys harry an enraged Slothapotamus. They are slowly wearing down the giant beast, although one or two of their number has been downed by its fearsome claws. They hope to slay it for meat and to make trophes of its incisors and canines. Read More

The dour and penetient followers of St. Cindilla farms this land from neat villages of whitewashed brick. Each village supports a knight of St. Cindilla and his huge war ram, which leaves little besides gruel and prayer for the devote toilers. Read More

Dull grasslands, where dry grasses cling to life and long, lean hares gaze at anything larger then them with open defiance. The Northern edge is marked with small cairns, each flying a flag of St. Cindilla's scared ram. Read More

The southernmost mountain is unnaturally shaped. The southern side of it has been smoothed off into a curve. It is almost vertical at the top, but falls away to merge with the flat valley floor below. A light covering of grass, moss, or lichen covers the continuation of the stone road hidden in 1604

A "natural" corridor runs through an ancient forest here... Used for ages by men and dwarves traveling from north to south through this sacred elven forest, this road seems anything but natural. If one were to dig just a handspan down into the rich earth they would find ancient red pavers. Huge stones roughly 3' x 3' x 3' with images of flying animals of all types carved into their surfaces. How far do these go? Who laid these cyclopean stones? No one knows, for they are ancient and the architects long dead. Magic suffuses them still though, if looked for, but it is a strange and narrowly focused enchantment. Any creature that flies no higher than 15' above this surface will be able to move 3x their normal speed w/ no ill effects. This potent magic ends at each end of the corridor through the trees. Read More

The northernmost mountain in this range has been treated similarly to the feature in 1603. However, above the massive 'ski slope' like formation, hanging directly in line with the hidden red pavers, is a modest 4 story wizard's tower. It was/is the home of Artosaari the Radical (and probably contains sick skater wizard loot). The tower is enchanted; not only is it unreachable from the ground, but also to anyone not going sufficiently quickly. A person would have to build momentum on the valley-sized 'fligher's skate ramp', whizzing back and forth along it and going higher/faster each time, to be able to build enough speed to enter the tower. Artosaari the Radical is not at home.

A long ago war has despoiled this once beautiful location. Two kingdoms in strife, warring over a riparian corridor through the desolation, met in a desperate struggle in this spot. But for the odd remnants of "trees" (long destroyed siege craft) on the outskirts of the northern edge of the oasis, all seems as it should, during the day. The water crystal cool, the shadow providing trees swaying in a gentle breeze, etc. But at night this is quite a different story. The restless dead rise again from their sandy graves. Water, once life sustaining, turns turgid, crimson and poisonous. A battle has raged every night with the living adding to the forces of chaos over the long years... This cursed place is studiously avoided by the aboriginal tribes, visited only during the light of day, staying well clear when the sun falls below the horizon. Read More

Around a fresh water spring is a lush oasis with numerous date, fig, apricot, and palm trees, and soft grazing grasses. Dozens of housecats gaze into the depths of a pool of crystal clear water, watching fish swim in a lazy circle. A brass doorknob protudes from the base of one of the palm trees. If the party waits long enough, a barely noticable door in the palm tree will open and a housecat will saunter out and join its brethren. See also Hex 1921. Read More

Lone and forbidding, the ancients called this mountian the "Maker of Men" and the children of ancient tribes claimed warrior status by climbing its razor edged cliffs and bringing back a single timeless bloom from the thorny black brambles that grace its top (such blooms will appear 1 per climber and allow a deathblow to be avoided at the cost of 1 level of experience). The climb is long, arduous and deadly, and in addition to the magical briars the mountian top is also the current home of the abbott of Donat, absent from DONAT'S TEMPLE a time sorcerer of great power. He hides here as his friendly demeanor makes it difficult for him to deny a reasonable request. Read More

A crushed palanquin lies here, miles from any road. Its silk curtains are rended and bloody. A few large feathers are strewn about. Tucked between the shreaded cushions is a holy symbol to a minor god of lost things and a will granting legitimacy to the bastard child of a foreign duke. There is little other information regarding the passenger(s). Read More

A wandering tinker plies his way down the road, his overloaded cart rocking and swaying. There is a 25% chance that has any piece of mundane adventuring gear available for sale at 2x list price. He will also repair damaged equipment and light armor for a few silvers or for trade (negotiable). There is a 30% chance that he has useful information regarding any hex adjoining a roadway. Read More

Meadowland with more then its fair share of voles, moles, and gophers. Inexplicably these meadows are also overrun with feral housecats. If anyone sleeps here, ignoring the pungent scent of feline territorial claims, the "Prince of Cats" will appear in thier dreams, asking them to free his 'people' from the curse of the BALEFUL SIGN, and the lure of the hypnotic oasis (1609). Read More

Several springs feed the swamp and, in turn, the Dienstal Branch tributary to the Greater Nesser River. A pair of naiads guard the springs from corruption. They are quite gregarious, and seek tales and gossip from the surrounding area. Any party coming upon the pair must save from charm or be stuck there telling stories for five days. A successful save means that the party will only tarry for eight hours at the spring.. Read More

The Sytlites of St. Cindilla gather here, dragging marble pillars from the RUNIS OF JAKOR'S KEEP, and floating them on rough barges to erect among the cold broken scree here. The devout of WESHOR bury any stylite who falls with grave ceremony and bring the holy men food as they sit atop their broken pillars contemplating the divine. Read More

A Pardoner of St. Cindilla meets with a gang of ressurectionists (1503) at the foot of a broken stone pier, among desolate fallen slabs of brown and grey rock. On nights of the new moon the Pardoner trades the Bishop of WESHOR's bright gold for the grubby shattered bones of holy Stylites (1701) Read More

Leaping from precarious rock to tettering crag is a magnificent bighorn sheep, its white coat covered in black star shaped patches. This creature is the immortal embodiment of ovine perfection. It will stare at travellers, seemingly daring them to catch it on the rocky slopes and sheer cliffs of the mountains. Those that try will fail, as the sheep's path is incredibly dangerous, full of crumbling rocks, hidden chasms and loose scree. Any who manage to follow the sheep for more then a few minutes will be granted its boon (a permenant bonus to agility, the ability to speak to sheep or impressive curling rams horns). The sheep will dodge any missile attacks directed at it and punish those who seek to harm it with crippling joint pain, clusminess or sheep-like stupidity. Read More

Bedouin nomads seek an arbiter for a tribal dispute. One tribe accuses another of theft of livestock. Once embroiled, both tribes ambush the party and try to eat them.

A devil in red laquer armor with the face of a dead maggot gnawed dog has been banished here to eke out the few souls he can. He's a murderous combatant, and resort to violence, forgeting his mission to gather souls via legitimate contracts and bargin for exchange if made angry. He fights with small barbed darts and a flail made of posionous snakes. The devil has little to offer in exchange for souls beyond directions of guidance to the desert's oasis. Read More

These jagged dry hills contain numerous dusty cairns of stone. One cairn, topped with a stone that looks vaguely like a rearing boar, contains a series of stone tombs. Trapped within the penultimate tomb is the last King of DROGAT CASTLE, his ancient body caught in an eddy of time that only a skilled horomancer with the blessing of Donat (1309) could reverse. His head still bears the pink 'swine' jeweled crown of DROGAT CASTLE and allows the bearer to command manitcores. He is frozen in time prepetually reaching for the door to the tomb of an ancient patriarch of Donat (the door remains trapped with a similar temporal spell). The tomb contians a feel guardian and a miraculous hourglass that allows the manipulation of time at the cost of life. If freed the Kign will be greatly disturbed by the Steward of DROGAT CASTLE's greed, but will remain a gentleman at all times. Read More

The robot. Basic explorer droid repairing fusion powered hot air ballon. "Artie" came under fire, shortly after recording Ruins of Pelgar 2009, by unknown source(s) 1809. In desperate need of textiles to complete job and resume mission. More than willing to trade information for materials, also not adverse to using humanoid leather. Read More

Low rolling hills, covered in a rich crop of lichens and short bright grasses. The hills are pocked with small caves (most filled with carnivorous slugs) and holes, easy for a traveller to fall into. Exploration of this land will reveal that the hills are artificial, the product of a vanished Hole Person colony, long lost to cannibalism, infighting and stravation after an ancient slug blight destroyed it food sources. The mad spirits of the Hole People may remain, thier muffled howls rising at night from deep beneath the surface. Read More

The hills are filled with the barrows of nomads driven from the region a generation ago. The barrows are generally well picked-over, but a few unmolested ones may be found, with modest grave goods and feisty undead. Read More

The so-called 'Balancing Rock' is comprised of black, meteoric iron. The hulking chunk of iron was transported and set at this location in time immemorial. Some say it originally landed in the SAMAIN MARSHES, others claim it crashed into the peaks above the RUINS OF PELGAR. Regardless, the reason for its precarious position is a mystery. It is tended by three mute priestesses who hum tunelessly. Read More

These dry oak and bay forests are rife with with blackberry brambles. The only evidence of human presence is the ocassional yellowed skull, set in the crotch of a tree. The spirits are spiteful here and the forest is home to several murderous hermits who stalk lone travellers at thier direction. Read More

Grasses spotted with lilac and sage, jackrabbits and quail are abundant here. Read More

Brother Donal Seld rails and sobs over his lamed riding-jackalope. The mount broke its leg as the wold-cleric attempted to shortcut through the rough lands in a desperate attempt to undo the sleeping curse of AERAVIR CASTLE. Among the relics in his bulging saddlebags is the 'Sleeping Princess,' a mummified alien child he hopes wil be the key to lifting the curse and allowing the few survivors their rest... Read More

A rich town under the protection of AERAVIR CASTLE, LULLWYN believes it has no need of trade or strangers. It's reidents are incurious and always seem to be planning for a wedding or a festival that demands careful attention to the towns esoteric traditions and usually a naked race through the town streets by some segment of the populace. Outsiders are strictly forbidden from viewing or pratcipating in any of these civic festivals. Read More

More land newly reclaimed from the marshes for the glory of AERAVIR CASTLE. Great earthworks and massive sluicegates are being built to channel the Nesser here, by gangs of war captives and convicts who live a miserable existence among the stinking mudflats that will someday be rich farmland. The mercenary guards, led by Otto the Punitive, an massive shirtless man with eight nipples who always wears a black executioner's hood, are somewhat worried that they haven't received word, pay or supplies from AERAVIR CASTLE in several weeks. The merceanries will desert soon and the penal slaves are becoming increasingly restless. Otto and many of his men are secretly werewolves and have been preying on/recruiting from the dam workers. Read More

High cliffs, deceptive paths and overhanging, icicle covered rock ledge make these mountains extremely forbidding. Read More

A tribe of goat people are accosting travelers and searching their belongings. Their shaman and goat God idol have been stolen. They fear a prophecy of destruction without their idol. They don't know that their shaman abandoned them and took the idol with him. He is hidden nearby and awaits their destruction before leaving his lair.

128 cows walk unceasingly in a circle, Should a cow die (naturally or by the sword), another cow wanders in from the northeast and assumes its place, the dead being pummeled into the earth. The ground beneath their hooves is trampled to bloody, pulpy mud. In the middle of the circle, a strange rune has been burned into the earth. Read More

In the near-fabled Temple of Zhor, emaciated priests spend their days deciphering fever dreams brought on by consumption of the Yrr leaf. Young acolytes are sent forth beyond the mountains to infiltrate settlements and work on bringing about the deciphered revelations of Zhor. The priests will pay handsomely for Yrr leaf, which can be found growing on bog corpses in the LLEWYLLA MOOR (Hex 0214)

Wretched lands, covered in pale rocks and fine irritating dust. Nothing glows here except pale blue lichen.

The Underground Road - a dwarf-carved tunnel - connects the RUINS OF PELGAR to the more civilized ares to the south. The Road has fallen into disrepair, and certain protective wards placed by the dwarven rock-wardens have faded with time, causing the Road to be seasonally inundated with groundwater. Read More

It is quiet here. Too quiet... Read More

A pack of coyotes feast on the arrow-riddled body of a goblin messenger. In his leather pouch is a letter to Gobo Rikleclan, a Goblin Prince, requesting assistance in the invasion of OGON (Hex 0101). Read More

A finely made, fortified bridge crosses the Nesser here, guarded by a forbidding tollhouse, which seems strangely abandoned. Beyond the river hardscrabble farmers break new ground for the lands of AERAVIR CASTLE. If questioned they say the guards at the Tollhouse were suddenly recalled to the castle, and that they have heard nothing from AERAVIR CASTLE for several weeks. Read More

The cave bear. Ancient lord in his garden of bones and berries. Knowledge of the lost pathways known only by beasts. Disposition linked to the seasons: hungry (Spring), satiated (Summer), distracted (Fall), in dream (Winter). Read More

You shouldn't have found this place. Technologicaly advanced partially bipedal insect peoples. Their colony ship shunted a hostile dimension (Carcosa) with insufficient calculation now merged with the mountain. They near completion after a hundred generations, to return to the stars, but the arachnids 2002 have found them. Read More

A gang of bandits, led by a defrocked priest, prey on travellers along the road. They hide in caves above the Pass. Efforts to root them out have been generally fruitless, as the caves networks are tortuous and interconnected. Read More

Scrubby plains, populated by wild goats. A lamed mountain lion, unsuccessful at catching goats, may attempt to slay a lagging pack animal or traveler. Read More

Scrubby plains, populated by wild goats. Read More

A roving herd of Venomous Mountain Goats attack travellers on a mid-level mountain pass. Their wool is extremely toxic with an 85% chance of death if it comes in contact with bare skin.

Vultures of Roc, large intelligent birds that awaits the coming of the mighty Roc, the legendary bird of prey who'll peck a hole in the mountain side and lay its Egg of Rot there, to mark the end of the world. The vultures are not hostile, and keen to converse. Read More

Largos Nomads - a hundred tiny villages, just a few families each dot these plains. Outsiders are shown the point of a barbarian spear more often than not. If you do manage to earn their loyalty, they'll back your plays, give aid and comfort, and occasionally follow you on your fool quest outside of their homelands. This is the same as 1915 and 2014.

Largos Nomads - a hundred tiny villages, just a few families each dot these plains. Outsiders are shown the point of a barbarian spear more often than not. If you do manage to earn their loyalty, they'll back your plays, give aid and comfort, and occasionally follow you on your fool quest outside of their homelands. This is the same as 1914 and 2014.

A young forest, pushing up through the burnt remains of a much older one.

A band of slavers hunting goblins makes their way up the road in their heavy, covered wagons. The moans of captured and roughly-sedated goblins can be heard emanating from the wagons. Read More

The entire hex has been burned to the ground and the land tilled with salt. In the center of the hex, a towering pillar of salt, pink and crystaline, pulses with a pale glow. Around the pillar are the emaciated bodies of hundreds of men, women, and children. A lone housecat weaves among the bodies. From one side of the pillar protudes a brass doorknob and the rough outline of a door is barely visible. Within ten minutes of the party's arrival, the housecat begins to scratch at the door. See also Hex 1609. Read More

Rich farmland, seemingly suddenly adandoned. Tools rust in the fields and inside the neat cottages of the bondsmen food rests, rotting, uneaten on tables, and petty valuables remain undisturbed. Read More

AERAVIR CASTLE - "The Unbreachable Fortress" is a huge pile of every concieveable archetectural whim and a compilation of the seige engineers art for thousands of years. It's gates stand open, guarded by listless exhausted men, who are starving. They speak of a curse that makes any who fall asleep fade from existence, while conversing with unseen strangers or pursued by unkown horrors. All that remains of the castle's population are those who have used magic or drugs to avoid sleep for several weeks, and they are going mad. Most cling to the rituals of castle life, but all stumble like sleepwalkers and many have taken to painting a second set of open eyes on thier forheads in a vain effort to trick whatever is taking thier fellows. Read More

The grim, cold and high the mountains here are jagged spikes spliting the earth. No paths or trails cut through them, and thier icy stones often give way, dropping travellers hundreds of feet to be impaled by spires of rock. Read More

Valley of the Spider. They came here as an egg sac attached to the Space Bug ship 1902. When the spiderlings hatched they made their way through the honeycomb passages to the base of the mountain to grow and build their nest. One strand at a time the weave of the great web expanded across the countryside. Now the landscape is a mad network of silk highways connecting to the central hive. They have watched and waited as the Space Bugs rebuilt their ship. Now is the time to take it and return to Carcosa. The wrongness of their presence in this dimension (also genetic influence) has infected the arachnids for hundreds of miles. All flesh must be eaten. Read More

Ettin Olympics. The present event is antelope bombardment. Presided over from the centrally located judges stand and observation towers. Teams currently in play: Grak-Nash (Brown; antlers; reigning champions) and Meh-Lerg (Green;Crocodile) Read More

Grasslands and meadows, home to heards of small large eyed antelope. At their center is a large stone disk, like a giant plug; a deep humming can be heard pulsing rythimically from the earth around it. Read More

A tribe of garuda (bird-men) inhabit the highest, isolated peak, called Usk'nso in their tongue (and Mt. Perdar by the locals). The garuda are insular, descending only to hunt wild goats and abscond with any books carried by pilgrims or other travellers on the road to the Temple of Zhor 1805 Read More

Clusters of ceramic urns are set in hollows in the rocks or arranged in geometric patterns on plateaus and flats. The urns contain the cremated remains of members of the horse-warden tribes to the east. Many of the urns are cracked or broken, from the elements or prowlers, and are returning to the earth. Some of the undisturbed urns will have small grave-good trinkets. There is a 20% chance that any of these items is cursed. Read More

A great pillar of light nacreous stone has been driven into the rocky earth here as if it fell from a great height. It stands 40' tall and resembles the pillars of the BALEFUL SIGN. Anyone with knowledge of the area, such as the nomads to the South 2014, will say the pillars was absent in the recent past. Read More

Mooncalf, a potent monsterous sorcerer from the moon has holed up in an old tomb carved into the side of this imposingly bare mountain. Mooncalf appears as a centuar like figure with a lower body of dappled pale fungus and eyes that glow with white fire. He has been sent by the masters of the moon to reactivate an ancient army of moon men (now the unsuspecting residents of ANGLEAE) to continue a war of spite and destruction. Mooncalf knows the correct order of glyphs to activate the BALEFUL SIGN and will do so to destory ANGLEAE and its people if he discovers them in thier degenerate state. He is pained by gravity, depressed at being forever exiled from his home, and confused by the profusion of life on the terrestial sphere. Mooncalf will trade sorcerous knowledge and euphoria producing moon fungus, golden pearls and starstuff for information on the wereabout of the BALEFUL SIGN, captive locals to interrogate or allies to do his masters' spiteful bidding. Read More

Crags of dry stone, with a few winding pathes between and over them. Here and there great growths of crystal make these mountains sparkle at dusk and midday. Read More

Largos Nomads - a hundred tiny villages, just a few families each dot these plains. Outsiders are shown the point of a barbarian spear more often than not. If you do manage to earn their loyalty, they'll back your plays, give aid and comfort, and occasionally follow you on your fool quest outside of their homelands. This is the same as 1914 and 1915.

The forest of misfit gods. Read More

The corpse of an adult black dragon lies on its back sinking into the swamp. 2d6 large alligators are feasting on it. A moderate DC search or perception check will reveal that the canopy above is unbroken and clear tracks through the cypress roots show that a large group of humanoids battled it from deeper in the swamp to here. Following the tracks will lead to a group of dragonslayers (random NPC adventuring party) looting the dragon's nest. They are injured and many of their spells are expended from the fight. They will be cautious and will fight to protect their loot but will flee obviously more powerful parties. If they flee, they will follow to reclaim their loot at the most opportune time.

Duffyd, the Petty Goddess of Heroic Dreams of Groveling Cowards, is currently residing in a small ceramic tureen on the third step of the altar. Should a groveling coward come within twenty feet of Her current domicile, She will manifest and promise a boon to anyone who retrieves a silver band from a harpy's talon and returns it to her. There is a 50% chance this is a false promise. Read More

A band of cultists are about to burn a small girl at the stake. The girl is bound in silver chains and writhes in pain, her mouth foaming. She is having a seizure. Read More

The 'Green Men of ERWYN', a band of forest 28 skulking killers for hire, secrative and much opposed to the rule of the Steward of DROGAT CASTLE have set up a secret camp here in preparation of patrolling South towards AERAVIR CASTLE. They are heavily armed with finely made longbows, a variety of poision arrows and other weapons of assassination. They may consider future comissions but have been hired by a strange made in a black mask (1017)) to scout the lands around the castle and are unavailable for at least two weeks. They aren't above a bit of robbery, murder and torture as a sideline to 'keep thier skills sharp'. Read More

A Regal Devil in a the clothes of a courtier and with a marble mask that always mirror the face of the viewer has the ability to grant victory in battle. For the price of a soul he will augment a warriors abilities so that during the next combat all attacks by the warrior will do maximum damage and gain +4 to hit. He dwells simply and without acosting the local farmers in an abandoned but fastidious shrine and is well know to the soldiers of AERAVIR CASTLE, he is currently rather lonely and unaware of the local sleeping curse. Read More

The road to AERAVIR CASTLE runs through these formerly resplendent farmlands. Now farm carts, piled high with sprouting and moulderd grain are abandoned on it, with oxen dead in the traces. A through search of the road will reveal the pack of an apothecary out of AERAVIR CASTLE which describes a curse that pulls the sleeping into the world of thier own dreams. The apothecaries efforts to treat citizens in the castle failed, but sustaining herself with stong stimulants (there are several vials of foul smelling powder in the pack) she managed to fend of sleep for some weeks. The writing shows signs of maddness toward the journal's end, but the apothecary came to the conclusion that AERAVIR CASTLE was cursed and that the sleeping sickness was regional rather then a disease - she aparently failed to make it far enough out of town before falling asleep. Read More

AERAVIR CASTLE - A great wall, nearly 150' high stretches around the fortress town of AERAVIR CASTLE, but the gates here are unguarded and smoke rises from within. The town burns, mostly abandoned, as it's residents have disappeared into thier dreams whenever they fall asleep. The few remaining citizens are burning thier valuables (and many shops, homes and businesses) in an effort to apease whatever demon or god is responsible for this curse. They are mad eyed and have kept themselves awake for weeks with crude spells and dangerous alchemical stimulants. They will react badly to efforts to loot the town. Read More