"Whats this do?" Asked the visting Human.
"That," Dugfar replied. "Is my- Wait! Don’t tou-"
...and with that they were buried alive.
The Grand Forge of Karak is known more generally as the Forge of Woe, for none can use it and remain untouched.
In some ways, the Dwarves of Urek were ahead of their time. Masters of metallurgy and alchemy, they had numerous technologies the human kingdoms were unaware of.
If you think the ones with the axes and beards are bad, wait until you stumble across a nest of feral dwarves…
The proud dwarven Captain Dugfar stood atop his mighty machine of magic and stone looking down the mountain they had just emerged from; letting the wind whip his beard over his shoulder… "This is a proud day for the Dwarves!" He bellowed. "...and this is just the start!"
It seemed like a great place to camp. The clearing was good sized and sheltered from the wind. The brook just a few feet away. There is a natural hallow to keep the horses.
Then the night came.
It was like it became a different place. The temperature dropped. The wind, which does not seem to disturb cloth, almost cuts through you like an arctic wind. No one can sleep, as the soft ground has turned hard. The horses are uneasy. The Bats are flying over and stopping in the trees.
And then there is the eyes. There are glowing eyes just inside the tree line watching your group. The mages and clerics can detect nothing, but there is still something there.
(yet there is nothing at all... The Darkness will do nothing unless the players do something to it. And even then it will all seem to be a conincidence.)
Of course, in the morning, it all becomes sweet and light.