Beware, beware, the hidden snare.
Where the shadows linger, and fiends do fare.
Go on, run, hide and pray.
For the elder crow feasts,
on our souls' decay.
Come, face Hak-Hakunin, the accursed and undying spawn of Dancer Kallina. Watch him trek through eternity, a cruel and heartless executioner of infants and innocents. A cold toy of the Gods, a death bringer and prisoner of fate.
An enormous Angoath was holding a young recruit in his hands, his body broken and blood seeping freely from between the cracks of his banded armour. The dead legionary’s head lolled unnaturally; obviously the neck had been crushed. It was amazing how fast these creatures could move and suddenly it lowered its head and charged headlong towards me, no doubt intending to skewer me on that sharp, spiky ridge. All around me I glimpsed similar scenes. The Angoath were washing over us like a wave of black silver, their claws rending us apart, their teeth chewing into our armour.
The Eternals are one of the few races who survived the awakening of the Gods and the fall of Prime Creation. They were solitary, but powerful, weavers of essence and were locked in a bloody war with the Other Ones, another race which survived the Gods.
The Kathyrrian Zombie is a special kind of Zombie created by the Kathyrrian Cabal, an exotic group of spellcasters based in the Acaians.
Barrow Dragons is a race of lesser dragons, nearly as small as wyverns or about the size of two oxen, that most often make their abode within dark and dry subterranean lairs.
An Aoktholian Swarm is a huge swarm of screeching, red and black feathered crows. The Aoktholian does normally not exist, but when there is a drought, these desperate crows change.
The Murdered Young are the vengeful ghosts of infants who died before they were baptized.
The beasts of Urghul are found in the valley of Urghul, a remote, forested valley within the Cyllerean Mountains. These unstopable creatures are gigantic carnivores with a physique resembling gorillas, but with dark bluish-green scaly skin and huge ram horns protruding from their low foreheads.
These magical boots empower the wearer with several abilities at once. Wondrous leaping, water-walking, and even flying! Yet the boots possess an insidious curse upon them as well. A deep and almost unfathomable (by others) feeling of listlessness, boredom, and even apathy affects the boots' wearer at all times whenever they are donned. Magic will not dispel the effects.
And so while the wearer of the boots can perform great feats of action during combat or at other opportune times and key moments, they'll never really want to do so, complaining "Meh, what's the point of it all anyway?" or "I would fly up and save us all guys, but sigh, maybe uhm, soonish, mkay? Bit bored by this whole burning tower at the moment."
Naturally the boots wearer's fellow PCs will grow quickly frustrated with this arrangement. There have been numerous occasions when one angry PC literally tears off the boots from his companion's feet in anger, and dons them in turn, only to immediately suffer from the same effects.
The solution lies in constantly "motivating" the boots' wearer with successful rolls, involving threats, flattery, fiery speeches, or even bribery.