“ A race of halflings has lived so long underground that their skin has taken on the color and texture of cauliflower, they are called the Cauliflower or the Mushroom People for their skin and aversion to light.”
“ The PCs have travelled long and far. As nightfall approaches a mighty storm is unleashed. Luckily there is a lush wood nearby the path.
A good shelter for the rage of the unnamed weather gods it seams at first. As the PCs enter under the roof of this dense wood, they are welcomed by only a few drops wich is allowed trough the thick forest crown. A fire is offcourse required to warm the weary bones of the travellers. As one of the party is set to the task of collecting firewood the others settle down at a suitable location. But alas, they did not know the perils of this forest. But it seems clear to the rest of the party that something ill is at work as the woodcutters scream echo from afar.”
“ In one region of a forest, all of the trees are identical, down to the leaves and the twigs. If the PCs carve something into one of the trees, it could mystically propigate until it covered all of the trees, or could vanish since it was not carved into the one true tree.”