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.
The PCs have travelled long and far. As nightfall approaches a mighty storm is unleashed. Luckily there is a lush wood nearby the path.
A good shelter for the rage of the unnamed weather gods it seams at first. As the PCs enter under the roof of this dense wood, they are welcomed by only a few drops wich is allowed trough the thick forest crown. A fire is offcourse required to warm the weary bones of the travellers. As one of the party is set to the task of collecting firewood the others settle down at a suitable location. But alas, they did not know the perils of this forest. But it seems clear to the rest of the party that something ill is at work as the woodcutters scream echo from afar.