Seven twisty canyons for the PCs to pass through and explore on their way to carry out their main quest.
The road ahead is of the dead
So travelers take heed
And lightly tread o'er those that bled
For lands and kings and greed.
The victor spared no man that dared
To try and take his throne.
So thus he paved a road that's made
Of vanquished soldiers' bones.
The road ahead is full of dread
So travelers beware
And tarry not lest you be caught
By the echoes of despair.
For the road beneath your wandering feet
Of dead men once so brave,
Will clutch and grab and wrench and drag
You to an early grave.
The Dragon Mines are a place for a free man to gain riches through a hard life and a place to hide those that defy the King, the laws or the Shan.
The People of the pocket realm of Brocschtal are simple folk who live as they have for thousands of years. Farming the land, raising sheep, getting in the occasional brawl. And fighting off the infernal attacks of ghouls.
Fewer things under heaven reek
like the lofty spires of Wlatsoom Peak
Vernissage, apprentice bard.
"Summon the Legions! We shall offer battle within Bleak Vale! This time, OUR cause shall triumph!"
The great cone of steam, fire and ice.
The valley of the elves between Night and the Waterfalls
The Grand Forge of Karak is known more generally as the Forge of Woe, for none can use it and remain untouched.
Behold, the Mountain of the Snow Bunnies!
A land of witches and evil magic, a pox on it!
Darak One-Eye, from the Book of the Black Rose
For those familiar with cantrips, you know they are minor acts of magic that have hardly any noticable effect on the world. For example a cantrip to make your food taste better won't heal you any more, or be any more nourishing, just won't make it so hard to get it down. A light cantrip certainly won't be able to blind or even distract anybody, but you might be able flash it to signal someone looking at the right spot.
What if children's nusery ryhmes were a form of cantrip? Like the "Rain, Rain, go away, come again another day." One child singing it wouldn't do more than spare her house a couple raindrops, but what if the whole village got together and was chanting in unison? Each one doing just a bit might actually be able to divert a whole storm...