“ The PCs traveling along the road/path/trail begin to hear a low droning sound. As they approach they find their path obstructed by hundred of thousands of droning insects. Locusts swarm though the air, feasting on the grass and plants. Passage will be slowed, but the insects pose no threat to the party, aside from being crunchy and disgusting underfoot, climbing into pouches and eating exposed food goods.”
“ Look into the eyes of a stranger and he is your father.”
“ A beautiful, green, peaceful pasture land, rolling hills and flesh grass, with boiling mud flats? And steaming geysers? What fun.”