Mora stepped up to the wicked-looking pipe-organ; the carved demonic head which it was made from leered silently at him. Sweating with anxiety, Mora looked back to his friends before swallowing hard and shakily bringing his fingers to the ivory.
Mora pressed the keys down into several minor chords, and a thunderous peal of music echoed, sounding mockingly similar to a church. Suddenly, the eyes of the carved head lit up with fire, and with a *WHOOSH* a pillar of flames burst into life around Mora. The man's screams were cut short after just a second and the fire disappeared just as quickly. Mora was gone.
After a moment of shocked silence, Mora's friends cheered excitedly.
Money=zombies. Who knew that the room with pictures of people getting killed would spawn undead things trying to kill you?
The door that cannot be reached, the wall that cannot be climbed
A bare bones dungeon concept, you can add the monsters and the treasure al a cart, but the big bads in this crawl are the puzzles.
A celebration of Strolen's 5555th post.
What do you do when you're endlessly falling?
Now you're DMing with Portals!
It sure looks like a normal doorknob...Wait a second...Did it just move?!
A tricky-ish puzzle that will work for both low and high level players.
Remember Harold and his purple crayon?
Consider your grip and consider just how important the iron spikes and 10 foot pole are.
Can you think while scared out of your wits? Lets hope your adventurers can…
Do you know of the most precious of my stones? You should be familiar with the Jewels of the Jaw, you have several my dear.
One of the most popular "Quests" in Dream Park for the 2071-72 season, The Red Ghost and the Crypt of the Ebony Princess has been made into a novel (by Elsmyth himself), a full theatre video, expanded into a broadcast series, and a lack luster home game. It is considered Elsmyth’s finest work before his nervous breakdown.
In the dark alleys of Malcaresh, the Caravan City of the Plains, many an adventurer meets his death at the end of an unseen blade. Even more part unwillingly with their belongings, having fallen victim to the thieves and cutthroats plying their old and ignoble trade. Yet even among these, the whispers of House Caraguil invoke fear and discomfort.
In a prison without walls, without guards, and without law; what kind criminal would choose death over a prison such as this?
One destined to go to Hellgate Prison.
A single room in the lair of those cast away by the gods, this place of worship is nothing the adventurers are likely to expect here.
A long forgotten city, with surprising inhabitants.
Deep below the small, peacful country of Vorbild is a dark, impossible maze filled with the countries bad-eggs.
Sometimes a painting is just a painting.
This is not one of those times.
The dread Tower of Inversion, lair of the vile lich Zarakoth Xorast, contains five layers, each containing different tools of dark magic.
"Look, lad! You see the streak of glowing green off the larboard bow? Them's the bright waters!"
While the lad peered intently at the eerie glow, the old salt continued. "Entire ships have been lost to the Bright, lad, for once you let it surround you, you'll never touch land again!"