There are many organizations that deal with dungeons, ruins, and other places of mystery. This codex is about those organizations.
Glyph and Pylon units are a set of magical mechanism used to create complicated series of puzzling traps.
Fifty steps from the eorlingas/ guided by that which is sinister/ Through dreaming eyes
“I open door number one”
“Watch Out for that… ouch… ”
“Oh look, a glass wall between us and the treasure.”
It is a dusty rune. That should have been their first clue that it was dangerous.
"That is one really big door"
As traps, obviously there are the standard protection glyphs which engulf you in fire or freeze you when you try to open locks. And then there are the non-standard ones…
A Magical Puzzle Key for opening a door. Innocuous, somewhat simple, but fun to solve, if you like puzzles.
A magical barrier of acid blocks your path. Solve the puzzle to unlock the door.
A combination lock, possibly to open a chest or door or other entry point. A magical puzzle, for those interested.
Checkerboards on floors of dungeons… is there any greater bane to adventurers?
“It is a door, a stout wooden door with its frame, just standing there in the middle of the field. Why would someone put it there? And the important question, does it actually open to anything?”
Journal of Thomas Mccannon.
If the adventurers are smart, they can solve this riddle and get the information they need.
Then suddenly all your body paralizes and you hear a voice echoing in the distance "seems like another rat has been lured to my maze," this voice was terribly cold but playfull, "come on you are not already planning on leaving, the fun has only begun."
Once every decade on the eve of St. Poskov's Day during mid-winter, the coastal city of Tiyabon experiences a horrific event. Quool's Tide rolls in, depositing hundreds of bloated, fish-eaten corpses upon the pebbly shores of Tiyabon's wide bay. This singularity is to this day unexplained, though countless theories abound. It is said for example, that these corpses are not eaten by the myriad fish of the seas completely, due to the fear all creatures of the seas hold for Quool.
Named for Quool, a terrible, antediluvian god of seas and storms, who no longer exists for he has no worshipers, the Tide chokes the beaches and surf with the countless rotting bodies of those who had perished at sea in a violent way.
Almost immediately, the lifeless corpses are fed upon by crabs, gulls, and worse things that await the horrid feast. The townsfolk let nature take it course with disinterested disgust, though lately some enterprising adventurers have taken to searching along the beaches of flesh for former deceased companions, with intentions of raising them again!
Surprisingly no undead ever rise from among the many corpses. This is also a mystery.