A 99 word poem of a small town, and the demon who guards its chapel when the mists rise.
The town of Silverfox Mill was a quiet place for many years, but this peaceful town has begun to unravel. The arrival of the Usury Guild drained the populace of their livelihood, forcing many into poverty, alcoholism, and prostitution. Complicating this trying time the town has recently lost its most beloved citizen, the wizard Osric Skanderbag. With his absence it seems the long-dead witch Anna has been raised to murder and poison, but this may be a front for more contemporary threats.
The desert is like the sea, the sands shift ebb and flow and with them so does life. The tide is in ebb, and Xen'da'rik is dying.
"Avaricious is a special sort of hell; it's the hell we created ourselves. It is the hell we deserve." - Smythe Voss, crewman of Siren's Laugh
The PCs encounter a strange set of artistic drawings done on the ground as they pass through a city. It has been done in chalks and no one saw who did it. Wizards might recognize the writing within the colored square as an obscure and dead language with a message stating that a prominent wizard and a retired bard have discovered how to populate Arcadia with the spirits of the dead!
Is it a local hoax, or are the PCs crossing the path of a very deranged and possibly dangerous mage?