“ The PCs are setting up camp at the end of their first day of walking through the Esh-Inel Mountains, when they hear in the distance a low rumbling, like thunder. It grows progressively louder until it echoes off the mountainous bowls around them, then dies away again. At its worst the ground starts trembling. It happens every day at this time, and it is the noise of the Great Carts on the dwarfish underways returning home after a day mining, laden with many tons of ore.”
“ A large river that is continuously covered in a thick layer of fog. There will be either a rope ferry to get across or possibly a boat that is rowed across by worshippers of the water elementals. It is very thick fog to the point where it even muffles voices even at close range and visibility even beyond a foot is almost impossible.”
“ In the middle of an unimportant combat with some bandits a burst of wild magic transforms all of the PCs and their opponents in to random animals and monsters. They retain their intelligence (though not, of course, the ability of speech). They can either carry on the combat in their new forms, panic, or otherwise react how they see best. After about an hour, they return, unharmed, to their normal form.”
