Ah, MAGIC. A simple word, yes, but with countless meanings, endless depth, and doubtless power.
A compendium of the tales of martyrs, the quests of clerics, and the ways of the holy, and all who walk in the graces of the light of the holy hand.
A set of laws that could be used for any feudal fantasy kingdom. Throw it into a library or a courthouse if you want!
Have you ever been confused by the mess of rules and philosophies concerning death and the undead? Here’s an attempt to lay down a set of rules to end all confusion.
Upon the fourth night of Winterkiss, a lord of the land was visited by four Magi.
The party has found the source of the strange creatures roaming the countryside. The rift in this reality glows with a silver hue, rippling with the wind but never moving. They step through and are immediately assaulted with the scent of rotting meat, some have to muster all their strength not to vomit. Strange cries similar to the beasts the party had faced before can be heard in the distance. Looking around, they see they are in a forest of grey and red rather than the normal brown and green. The trees are sticky to the touch and writhe, perhaps to get away or perhaps as a warning.
The deeper the party goes, the more the forest seems to slither and move underfoot. The cries get closer and more numerous. Creatures lurk in the shadows, all the same color of their surroundings. Whatever the party came in here for, they had better do it fast.
The forest of flesh is waking up, and it is so very hungry.