A wagon lays overturned on the forest road, bodies savaged by tooth and claw lay strewn about it, their weapons clean of blood, seemingly unused.
A lone man runs from an unseen threat, deeper into the forest, away from the grisly scene in the road. He stumbles, his foot having caught on a root. He lands hard, his lungs feel like lead. Panting, he comes to his knees. Two eyes of emerald light meet his, a low growl emanates from the beast, and his death is swift.
A hardy deep blue vine with needle-like thorns and bright orange flowers. If pricked by Widowthorn one should quickly seek the antidote or a natural remedy, the poison secreted by the thorns induces drowsiness and saps one's strength.
Also known as the Splendid Forest Serpent, the Dragon of the Barrens, and the Keeper of the Mysteries of the Ssesha
The remains of the druids in the Stolen World
The powerful barbaric spawn of The Panther God
Freetext Friday barbarian (but mostly because I can't sleep)
A common domestic animal in the Siogalish household, the buckfowl isn't much different from a chicken at first. Until you get a look at its head.
The two of them peered down at Erath menacingly through the trees. He rested his palm on the jeweled hilt of his sword, ready to cut one of them down the moment they touched the ground. With any luck, he could swing quickly enough not to find a dagger in his spleen. What he wasn’t expecting was the sharp, discordant noise behind him. Whipping around, it was a third creature, gripping a violin in its spindly, sinister hands. Sweat still beading down his forehead, Erath looked down to the poorly scrawled sign at its feet, reading: “Will pley 4 gold.”
The Cervitaur was originally created out of a now extinct roe deer.
Once the shipment arrives at the kingdom it seems that all the boxes are empty and for some reason most of the coins were replaced with small rocks and acorns.
Shrinkstools are a powerfully enchanted toadstool, typically found in enchanted forests or other secluded magical locations. Watch your step.
Keep your helmet on, there are sparrow oaks in this forest.
The hardest part about dealing with a ratwood tree is by the time you find it, there are dozens more you haven't found yet.
We were crossing a ridge when Corgan was lifted off the ground by something. "Shoot it! Shoot the tyrannosaur!" he screamed as blood streamed from the puncture wounds that had opened up in belly. I fired into the empty space above him to no effect. Then Corgan's ragged corpse dropped to the forest floor, and I was alone. Utterly alone. There was no dinosaur. There was nothing.
A tree that sends roaming fruit on a singular quest.
The Slow Death Cap looks, to those who don't know what they are looking at, like an edible mushroom, but eating it is one of the most unwise things anybody could possibly do.
The nobleman was out on horseback when he came too close to a nest of Changeling wasps. The first sting made him scream and sent him falling from his horse. When he felt the second sting and was close to passing out with the pain, he thought Whatever happens now, my life of freedom is over. Even if I am not stung again,and escape being paralysed or killed I will be a girl. I will no longer have the right to choose who I marry, to carry a weapon, to join the army or to have control over my own finances.My life is ruined now.
There's more to the Dembraava Wilds than just deformed beasts and unicorn husks. In that place there are also men--or something very similar to men--and no one has ever recovered one of their corpses.
Stay out of the woods. It's not a place for men. Not anymore.
Meles, the eyes in midnight bands
the plagues would see him dead
yet Meles, his brood unchained
they ate the plagues instead
Imagine this. You are the honored guest of the Conyamo himself and his chosen peers. You are placed at his right hand so everyone in attendance can look on you with wanting. Your every move, every breath will be watched. You are the highlight of this evening. Unfortunately, removing the talari eggs will cause you great pain. The nostrum I've just given you will not help the pain but it will burn your vocal cords so you do not disturb the dinner with your screams. With more than one talari loose inside you, you will beg for death. If you had a voice, and you will receive what you wish for. It will be a long and painful as they eat down to your hallows. I would almost pity you, but your not worthy of my pity. Do not worry though as my attendants are very skilled and will remove most of the eggs to be eaten, but not all. Enough of this dribble, be happy for tonight you are the honored guest of tonight’s celebration.
Syr Caran - Head Chef to the Conyamo
A cult's theology is binding on the god involved: it is possible for that god to believe (and see, just like Winston Smith in 1984) that other gods are mythical, or jumped-up demons, or failing older spirits, even while those gods actually exist and thrive and act in the cosmos, even while working against him.