They're coming out of the ground, they're coming out of the damn ground, game over man, game over man!!!!
Most criminals who are locked up as a punishment or to await trial are just confined in regular cellblocks or jails, but not all of them. Some are so dangerous that ordinary prisons just will not hold them. Others have secrets that cannot be allowed to be spread, or their crimes are so dreadful that they deserve a greater punishment then normal incarceration or even execution. In yet other cases the ruler had a nasty sense of humour...
The tripwire activated a trap of such ferocity that even the bravest man among us quavered.
"Private documents need protecting? no problem just get a burn box"
Forcing party members into a furnace is fun!
Darn, this hallway is really long…
What’s this round thing on the wall…
A simple, effective dungeon trap that satisfies the requirements to be used several times and without decaying.
Many traps are not designed to kill or maim, but more to disgust or annoy, or even to put a smile on the victim’s face… this is a scroll of such traps.
Traps working the good old mechanical way, through levers, ropes and switches. Included are also the beloved pit traps.
Magical implements that trap the unwary.
Traps for the outside. It is not only the dungeons and ancient tombs that are dangerous.
A collection of traps that are located on doors, doorways and portals of all kinds.
Traps gathered from the remains of a dead site. Honour and enjoy what ingenious traps were created by people unknown…
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.
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.