“ Arkths or Ravagers: These are large landbound crablike creatures about the size of Grizzly Bears. They live partially in the astreal plane. Their food is magic. They can sense it at huge distances. Since spells and such are hard to eat (being in motion) and magical places are the equivalent of a sea of krill to them, they are looking for magic stashed in concrete places. Their primary food source is magic items, alchemical potions, and enchantments. They do a pretty good job of mangling/ eating the physical aspect of said items in the process of chowing down. These things will be the bane of dungeons everywhere, as they will slowly eat away much of the treasure (and the magical traps... so it can be advantagous to follow these things). Note: They will attack people with highly magical natures (i.e. high magic powers). They will probably kill the person in the process of sucking out the power.”
“ Bag on a Stick
Very simple gag but a great one, since it can be used multiple times over, even in the same adventure. Great for tribal natives gone restless and humanoids, but anyone can have set this up. Just what the header says, a simple bag over a stick stuck in the ground or floor.
As GM you can place the bag on a stick anywhere, in a floor crack the heroes have passed before, outdoors in a clearing or path, or at the edge of the PCs' encampment the following morning, what have you. Place anything on the stick - a coiled yellow viper angered by the bag removal, mini crossbow w/poison, transdermal hallucinatory drug dusted on the bag, yellow mold colony, an NPC ally's head, a weapon, scroll tube or satchel, what have you.
The idea is to build tension and/or stall for time/distract the party. Provided it's used properly, you'll be amazed at how paranoid players will get from this simple gag.”
“ The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...”