It's always the creepy little kids
Also known as Moon the Loon, Goon Beard, and Who?
A well-loved and somewhat crudely hand-crafted tribal drum owned by the Tribal Half-Orc, Somnak. It is said that Somnak possessed the ability to call upon the spirit of any creature whose skin was pulled over the drum to aid him and his allies in battle, as well as curse his foes.
An underground club, meeting place, and fortress
Its old and battered exterior hides a subtle, and finicky, magic.
An enchanted forest where music permeates the fabric of life, leaving its mark on fauna and flora alike.
The City of Bells, home of Bornegault’s Tongue.
"Music is the wine which inspires one to new generative processes, and I am Bacchus who presses out this glorious wine for mankind and makes them spiritually drunken." ~Ludwig van Beethoven
The haunting, eerie ‘songs’ of the Thoron.
the sounds of war
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?