An ashen grey willow with pale leaved tendils obscuring it's gnarled trunk. Sitting in the mire of great swamps, rare even in it's natural environment. The Banshee Willow's bark is known to have magical properties. Travelers beware, these trees seem to attract ghosts and other unsavory undead.
The product of the Entwiner’s art, this net is carefully crafted with nearly invisible knots in its fine mesh. These knots speak in the language of Entwining Magic, the words of keeping and holding.
A spirit of judgement and punishment
I'm different. I have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart... Dying's for fools, dying's for amateurs.
Meles, the eyes in midnight bands
the plagues would see him dead
yet Meles, his brood unchained
they ate the plagues instead
A candle inside of a skull is a typical creepy feature in cultist's lairs or haunted places, but what if they served a more practical purpose?
Fiery doom in two handy barrels. Unsurpassed destructive power. Comes with a five shot warranty.
Gredil the Leech was the best healer in Szridhar, but no-one went to him with minor ailments. All of his cures were disgusting, and usually involved some type of bizarre creature. Take for example the Spirit Leech.
Queens of the forest, the Loru Valsharris are respected by elf, dryad, and ent alike.
Deep forests hide many secrets, and traditions older and stranger than civilization itself.
Not quite a race of its own, not quite the mortals they are so close to.
Ages past the Woodking fell into a deep and terrible slumber, and from the fever of his dreams and nightmares the wooden dungeon of Limberlost grew.
Too many are the spirits of the Spirit World, these are only a few better known types.
“The Welcoming Ones” are the first contact many people will have with the spirit world. Actually, for many they are the first creatures they meet after death.
What can be more maddening than the eternal sobbing of a child whom no one can comfort?
Fedolf, the notorious headsman of Iddland, is known as much for his beheadings as for his operatic arias of doom. A tower of power, standing nearly seven feet tall, and weighing in at almost four hundred pounds, Fedolf strikes fear in all onlookers, especially when he dons his executioner's hood, and goes shirtless, wielding his gigantic double-bladed pole-axe, on his way to the headsman's block. He possesses a beautiful singing voice, and will often send off his charges into the next life, while belting out baritone dirges and antiquated arias, usually involving death, destiny, and duty, in heavy doses.
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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.