The party receives a poorly written call for aid from a nearby mountain community. When they arrive, the town is overrun by trolls, but where are the villagers?
While walking through the mountains, emerging from several small crevasse near you and begin attacking the party member with the most exposed skin. The Beez are creatures the size of a fist, with minimal stats but high agility. There is ten or more beez. Their sting causes a immediate loss of hitpoints.
When the campfires grow dim, stories are told. Stories of lost cities, great heroes and legends of old. One of these is the story of Knurlheim. Once the proud capital of the Dwarfs, now a ruin- abandoned long ago. Filled with vast riches and treasure. It’s secrets forgotten with the decline of the Dwarfs, long ago. No one knows is certain if it ever exsisted at all.
The journey had been a long one and now they had entered the mountains. After an entire day spent on paths cut into the mountainside and through moss covered coniferous woods, they encounter a desperate young mountain tribal. He is searching for his beloved wife and his elder brother, both of whom he got separated from after an unsuccessful attempt to kill a cave bear. The last thing he saw was the cave bear in full pursuit of his wife. He could not help her as he had been knocked to the ground by the raging beast, and was struggling to regain full consciousness. The tribal will be clearly nervous and urges them to look for his wife during their travels. He will stay in his village a couple of miles to the north and pleads for assistance should they recover his wife, whether she be dead or alive.
On the next day of travel, they will journey upon a dim track in the forest and while they are preparing to ascend another path cut into the mountainside, they hear moans of lust from somewhere nearby. Upon closer inspection they will spy a young tribal woman in the heat of the act with an elder tribal male. They are consummating their forbidden love on the cold mountain moss, and beside them lay the skinned and slaughtered carcass of a huge bear.
As you travel through the thick growth of a forest, a great shadow suddenly moves over you. You raise your head fast, but whatever it was, it was faster. However you try, you don't see anything, and nothing approaches you. Maybe it is better so.
On the road up Dethl Mountain, you will encounter the guardian, Rustus, a goron Pyro Mage. only those who can take the heat will withstand him. to defeat him, one must use a goron's worst enemy: water
There are more ways than one to encounter a dragon. With a low level group it's obviously not feasible to meet one in its lair and fight it. But standing on a bleak moorland, utterly exposed and vulnerable, it can be a chilling experience to see something flying far far overhead. Something that could just be an eagle, but you never know...
The PCs are setting up camp at the end of their first day of walking through the Esh-Inel Mountains, when they hear in the distance a low rumbling, like thunder. It grows progressively louder until it echoes off the mountainous bowls around them, then dies away again. At its worst the ground starts trembling. It happens every day at this time, and it is the noise of the Great Carts on the dwarfish underways returning home after a day mining, laden with many tons of ore.
In a high canyon in the mountains, the players find a skeleton in a cage suspended from a pole. A few miles further, they find another, and a third contains a partially rotten corpse. The fourth contains a living man who looks as if he hasn't eaten in days. Turns out to be the local way of punishing criminals.
As the players travel along the trail, they notice a bear in the woods, following thier moves. It does not make any agressive moves, but neither does it leave. As daylight fades, the players need to decide what to do. Is it a spirit guide, or gaurdian to the forest; is it a lycanthrope, or being controlled by evil spirits; or is it just a curious bear?
A certain culture has a curious pass-time- muscle art.
Muscle artists (who are called by a special name) work hard to sculpt their bodies, trying to become as muscular and buff as possible. The best among muscle artists look almost grotesque in their amazing muscularity, Atlas-like giants with shiny, oiled iron arms and legs.