“ (Post zombie apocalypse)-a tribe of humans
Culture: Drumming circles daily around an arena for their bravest brutes to slaughter their accepted foe, the zombie. Feasts of overcooked zombie flesh (to kill all of the zombie virus present). Wooden fortress that make this tribe in the far future look several millennium behind in technology. Instead of becoming a troublesome and unnatural foe that they seek to cure, this tribe has accepted that Zombies will continue to roam their land and, if the undead were to perish (be cured), this tribe would suffer as well.”
“ It seemed like a great place to camp. The clearing was good sized and sheltered from the wind. The brook just a few feet away. There is a natural hallow to keep the horses.
Then the night came.
It was like it became a different place. The temperature dropped. The wind, which does not seem to disturb cloth, almost cuts through you like an arctic wind. No one can sleep, as the soft ground has turned hard. The horses are uneasy. The Bats are flying over and stopping in the trees.
And then there is the eyes. There are glowing eyes just inside the tree line watching your group. The mages and clerics can detect nothing, but there is still something there.
(yet there is nothing at all... The Darkness will do nothing unless the players do something to it. And even then it will all seem to be a conincidence.)
Of course, in the morning, it all becomes sweet and light.”
“ Basq doesn't exist. He occupies a point in space--a single X,Y,Z point in the Cartesian plane, but he's not made of anything. People looking at him see whatever they want to see. Or what he wants you to see. Usually a mix. Just the same, he cannot be hurt swords or arrows. Only things that deal damage to an area (fireballs, gases) can damage him. Or weapons that can cut through an infinitely small point.”