Vettinskrake, and the Denizens of the Pale Wastes

Principly taken from the Sagas of Ferringred, the Noble, the Sun-Caller, Tamer of the Winds, Giant-Maimer


Vettinskrake is cold, as far north as you can go, where it seems even the earth is frozen solid and flaking from the cold squeezing grasp of the ice that reach down into the heart-flesh of the world.
Knife-crevices of ice and raging undying blizzards, jagged mountain ranges and the pale, weak light of a sun that cares none for the blasted waste of nothingness.
Once the sun left the world all behind, and it was Ferringred who left the world behind as well to seek it out. He walked the long pathless wastes of the snow-drifts and ice-gripped lakes, and crossed Froddi's crest, before finally coming to the Mountains Beyond, and ascended to the final heights of the Mountain of Rest to call back the sun to the world.
Ferringred is not the only Hero to have traversed Vettinskrake, but he is the most famous, and the one to have gone the furthest. He is also numbered among the many, many victims of the Krake. A trait shared by all to have gone not even as far as he did.
Seek not to go there.
It is not idly that they say that "The North is too cold for Gods."

Ferringred, the Noble

Hero of the Northern Realms, who braved the terrors of Vettinskrake to beckon back the lost sun at the Mount of Rest.
His tale is told in its full in the Saga of Ferringred, but for the benefit of those here present, his most mighty deeds will be summarised;
He first took Fame and Glory at the battle of Hirruksnir, during which he slew with an Arrow and an Axe the Jarl of that Town, Skjrldan. Skjrldan had previously slain Ferringred's brother with a poisoned arrow, which began their blood-feud.
He did outsmart the Giant Ferregun, from which he took his Hero-Name, when the valley-town of Luggensvolt was under the Giant's tyranny. It was his wit that out-smarted the Giant, and thus drove it back to Old Fomoria in shame.
Whilst traversing the White Moors, he did become the Prey of Noksigrend, the Wilf-behind-the-Wind. In the fierceness of the battle, Ferringred took out the left eye of the Wolf with his sword, and drove it back to the wind in which it dwells and howls all the more loudly in anguish at the hurt done to it.
Also whilst wandering the White Moors whilst seeking the Mount of Rest,
He outsmarted Old Nana Trostii, the Hag of Froddi's Crest. He helped her thaw out water, believing her to be but a simple Old Maid, but saw past the Hag's illusions, and such he bound her hands and filled her mouth with Iron. Thus he could dictate the terms of their time together, which also allowed him the chance to take the Lamp-Of-Eyes, which did guide him to the Mount of Rest.
He caused the Demon Hrothdumr Stone-Blood to be called "The Corpse Who Crawls" after their mighty battle, during which he severed the tendons in the Demon's knees and heels. It was in this fight too that Ferringred lost his sword 'Byrnskyr' after it was thrust deep into the Demon's chest and sealed about by Stone. It was this blow that ended the battle.
He did finally come upon the Mount of Rest, and by the sacrifice of his blood, he did call back the Lost Sun to the land, saving the peoples of all the earth.
It was then afterwards that Ivehngr who-casts-a-long-shadow came upon him, and after a mighty battle, was Ferringred slain. His words and deeds were carried to us by many Shamans, who heard the departing of his spirit.

Noksigrend, the Wolf-behind-the-Wind

A great and mighty Wind-Spirit, who takes the form of a great White Wolf. Its form seems to be constantly blowing away in the gale, as if it were made of fresh snow. Its eyes blaze a fierce orange, the only part of it visible when it takes its Wind-Form, save that the eye that Ferringred stole from it now burns as a great lightning-scar from ear to maw.
Its howls cause mighty blizzards, and its barks sharp gales. It is most territorial, and has driven off all other spirits from its territory, which it shares now only with lesser wolves. It is ever eager to bear its fangs and claws, and ranges about its territory looking for whom it may devour, eager to consume as the blizzard is eager to bury and destroy. Its ferocity is a little blunted these days, its eye pains it still,  and the wounds to its pride may never heal.
It hates men with a particular fire, and will always seek to destroy them.

Old Nana Trostii, Hag of Froddi's Crest

A Hag of some considerable power, mother of the Demons, Blind, Shiver, and Seize, and also the adopted Mother of Yutheseta, the Maiden-with-Blue-Skin.
She does dwell in her cabin upon Froddi's Crest, where Ferringred spent a night after binding her and filling her mouth with Iron. She did cause him one great hurt, which lead finally to his death, as her price during Ferringred's succor was "Only what he made in her home." Thinking that the price was easy to pay, Ferringred agreed, but the Hag took a lock of his hair which grew during the night of his rest, and used it later for foul magics, in revenge for Ferringred's theft of her Lamp. It was thus that Ivehngr was directed to Ferringred at his weakest hour.
She wields her Wand-of-many-Wands, each wand of which is grown from her lonesome tree, which is nurtured by the fluids and ground bone of the men she slays. It is said that it is that tree, as well as her Black Cat Rime, and her three demon sons that she alone has love for.

The Demons Shiver, Seize, and Blind

Appearing as mighty Black Hyenas the size of tigers, with claws and cunning each to match, the Sons of Trostii are wraiths of the ice and snow. They can easily be seen to be something other from their limbs, which end in cruel and misshapen hands and feet, though they only rarely walk on their hind legs. Their fangs are blue-crystal shards of ice, their manes are delicate frost, and their eyes are bright shining blizzard-suns. Their laughter and cackling can often be heard by their victims long in advance of their attacks, though the prey rarely realise it is more than the wickedness of the wind that taunts them.
The Demons are immaterial if they wish to be, and their hands always are. They kill by squeezing the hearts of their prey, bursting them within the chest if they don't freeze them to ice first. They seem like flurries of ice on the air, whirling and circling around you as the cackling on the rises and rises. The first sight you will have of one is when it coalesces out of the snow, standing tall above your comrade, hand plunged into their chest, as blood flows like rivers from their eyes and mouth.

Yutheseta, the Maiden with Blue Skin

Tales say that once she was a lady like any other, betrayed by a lover the heart-break of which froze her solid from the inside out. The truth is that Yutheseta is the adopted child of Old Nana Trostii, a girl given to her as payment for one of the deals she has made in the past. She despises what she is, as the magic of the Hag and the Cold of Vettinskrake have stripped of all by the veneer of humanity, and she is now counted as one among the Fae. She wanders the Pale Wastes, having long since abandoned the family that despised her and that she despised in turn, stealing the hearts of humans who upset her and eating them.
She boils and seethes with hatred, and the snow steams and thaws at her feet as she walks, even as water freezes on her cold, cold skin. She will talk to humans if they show her any sympathy for a time too, though oftentimes this sympathy is short-lived when they learn of the past and personality she makes no effort to hide.
When this happens, the people are often as short-lived as the sympathy was.
Her hands are deadly sharp like ice, and if she is struck with a weapon, she will simply crack like ice and the pieces will slot back into place. The only way to stop her is to totally bludgeon her into tiny, impotent pieces of ice; though this only a temporary measure, but often times it provides the time needed to escape. Yutheseta also has some modicum of her adopted mother's magics, and calls down snow-storms and Ice-Spirits when she wishes.

Hrothdumr, the Corpse-who-Crawls

Its face is like a Grey-Stone Whirlpool, stormy skin drawn endlessly inwards. It is skeleton-thin now, wasted in turn by the wastes it is trapped in, and though its arms are but barely more than bone, they are still the width of a man's waste.
It crawls now, and must drag itself by the hands due to the wounds it was dealt by Ferringred.
When dealt wounds, and its blood is shed, it is stone that boils and bubbles forth from the gash, sealing its flesh over with rock. Thus, the more it is wounded, the harder it is to wound, though it must one day turn entirely to stone and be as dead.
Once, it was a member of the Fomorian Courts, cousin as it was to the Giants of that Land, though one day it was banished, and thus became lost and possessed of the deathly colds of Vettinskrake. Sometimes, the grief of what it has lost becomes overwhelming, and it collapses and allows itself to be buried by the flurries and blizzards. Thus it was that the Demon managed to assault Ferringred by surprise, bursting from the banks of frost.

Thorgredst, the Griefsmith

Once, he was Oath-Cousin to a great Dwarf-Jarl, Forge-Master of a whole realm, but fate was ever cruel to him, and thus his curse soon became apparent. A grand feast was called, and at it Thorgredst presented his Oath-Cousin with a gift, but before the night was done, the gift had slain the Jarl. All agreed that Thorgredst was not to fault for this hateful doom, but this wound bit deep at Thorgredst's soul. Eventually, Thorgredst discovered that everything he gave as a gift, bought or freely given brought its holder to a similarly awful fate as his Oath-Cousin of old, and such it was that Thorgredst reclused himself from Dwarfdom, and sought loneliness and seclusion in the White Wastes of Vettinskrake. His only work now is the occasional wanderer that seeks him out to personally request that he craft them a tragedy, that they might carry off to the person they seek to destroy. It never works quite as the commissioner intends, but Thorgredst does it all the same, calloused to tragedy as he is.
He is cruely alone.

Ivehngr, Who-Casts-a-Long-Shadow

His face is as a Human Skull, with distended jaw, filled with molars all around, and many pale lights dancing in the empty eye sockets. It walks like an aped on its hind legs, bandying hither and thither, and its skin is like old tar; oil-black against the clean-whiteness of the skull.
To look into its many eyes is to forget a world without snow, as far as you would see is endless and hateful ice regardless of the reality. Your homes would be buried by snow, sealed with frost, and your friends and family would appear as corpses left out in a blizzard for many days. Many who have seen the lights and lived long wished they had not survived the ordeal.
Its shadow is its most fearsome weapon. Its blackness is devoid utterly and totally. It is bereft of all; heat, light, air, hope. It is the shadow of death.

The Vondstrekken, frozen-hearted Men-of-Old

"The North is too cold for Gods," they say. The same is true of death as well sometimes. Vondstrekken are born of humans who are slain by the vicious cold and ice, which then grows and fractals within them, under the skin. They live still, but are far to numb to feel any of that, or to feel the sting of death, and thus they march on beyond the shade of the End. No God will brave the journey down to collect their souls.
They are impossible to kill, they have already been claimed by the cold. They will never stop hunting you if they seek your death, they have no other purposes. They are dreadfully sad and cold, they have nothing to exist for.
If you should ever meet the Vondstrekken, for they will always group together when they can in wandering herds of drifting dead, you should light a fire, and offer them a meal. Heat and warmth have been much denied to them. These things you offer them will give you opportunity to escape them. If you do not, they will take you, tear the meat from your bones, and slather themselves in the steaming meat to try and claim the warmth within. While the Vondstrekken eat the meat you offer them, you must strike up a conversation with them, and involve them all, or the trick will not work. Once the conversation is going, you must introduce some polarising and contentious debate among them, such as who the greatest hero among them is. While they bicker, you will have your chance to steal away from them; this is why you must involve all of them in the debate. If you do not, one of them will see you leave, and once they begin their pursuit, it will never stop.

Mithandrigal, who Flies-as-Lightning

She is a powerful sky-spirit, wearing the guise of a great eagle, though she scarcely needs to. Her eyes blaze with sky-fires, and storm clouds brew and boil angrily beneath her feathers. When she spreads her wings, a great billowing storm spills from her outstretched arms, and with a powerful beat, she speeds off into the air as a bolt of brilliant, white, blasting Lightning. Here she is true to her nature, as she speeds through the air, scorching and dashing the world apart around her, arcing around and about in bright shining lines of fire.
She is not cruel, nor does she have a great hatred of men. She does however, have very particular desires, and she cannot abide those who do not give her the gifts befitting her station. Many are the men she has blasted to stinking meat that did not grant her some mighty morsel to chew on. Indeed, even mighty Ferringred only escaped her wrath by hiding overnight in a cave beneath the earth; the one place she could not stand to go.

The Iksvaettir, the Thin Kings

There were once a race of beings, something like men, that now dwell in and rule the Vettinskrake. Close up, they are probably anything but human, though they might appear to be men at distance. No-one really knows what they look like. Some say their faces are like fractals of snowflakes wrapped endlessly around themselves, or jagged boulders of ice. Some have said their tools are made of ice, and glow a soft and terrible blue. Others tell that it is ancient flint that their weapons are forged of. Some others even say that they create the Vondstrekken as their unwitting wolves, and that they eat the cold and shredded meat they leave behind in their eternal searches for heat.
The truly bold-faced tell of great castles carved from mountains and adorned with glacial towers, cruel grasping hands reaching up into the sky with shining-tipped claws.
The truth is perhaps that they are the lost servants of Lord Storms, or perhaps he enemies, frozen and ice-clad. They might guard the Black Spire that is the resting place of Fabled Lord Storms' lost heart. Or perhaps they guard it from him so that he can never reclaim it.
What is sure, is that they slay all men they find in the wastes of Vettinskrake. None will ever find the Dark Spire of Lord Storms.

The Nine-Eyed Fox

A trickster-spirit of the Wastes who dwells in a palace of frosted-crystal. He has nine eyes in a ring on the crown of his head, long, long white ears tipped with black, and a long and lazily wafting tail. It is said that it is extraordinarily fond of humans for a spirit of its kind, and will often invite them to stay at its dwelling. Indeed, Ferringred himself was invited to stay for a few days by the Fox, who saw his might and the cloud of fate that mantled him. Elves however, are a source of purest hate within the Spirit's heart, and it has only death for them.
It is said that the Nine Eyes of the Fox see the nine-fates of those they behold, and that the fox is blind to the present world. Others call that foolishness, and that the eyes merely see one each into the realms of the world. Again, there are more that declare that the nine eyes are all misdirection, and the Fox's true eyes are in its mouth, and thus that it can only see when it speaks.
It is a master of magics, though it has never used them fatally, it only misdirects, tricks, and leads others to their own demise. Its hands are supernaturally dexterous too, and it can often be seen crouched like a monkey, tinkering with some new trinket it has carved out of the ice of its home.

Fabled Lord Storms

A masked and mighty Death-Knight of legend. Old tales say that after his long and cruel life, he carved out his own heart, sealed it still beating in a Sandalwood box, and hid it away in a tower of Midnight-Black stone, that he would never again feel the hurts that had been inflicted upon him.
The legends also say, that the Tower is the very heart itself of Vettinskrake; though none who have braved the cold and death have ever returned to speak of the truth of it.

Artefact Porn Magic Items

So a little while ago, I went to r/artefactporn (sfw, promise) and like, its a bloody treasure trove. Literally. Here are 10 made from posts that were on the (or at least, near the) top of all time.
(Except the scarab, it was there when I first took notes on the list, but its since disappeared. There's another one in its stead. One scarab brooch is very like another. Sort of. For my purposes.)

Blade of the Earth's Blood
Made by particularly Socioclastic Druids from the very blood of the earth

Blades which strike this sword, or armour that is smote by it, degrade in quality quickly. Blades degrade a dice size for their damage, and armour provides 2 less AC than normal. These effects require as many days to repair as the decrease in AC value, or in the decrease of maximum damage result.

It can also rust away solid metal at the rate of 1 square inch per minute.

Furthermore, it has a devastating effect on blood, which seems to be an excellent carrier of its magic. Damage taken from this blade is also applied to the target's maximum hit point value as their blood is disassembled at the core of each blood cell. The maximum only returns at the value of 1 per full day of rest.

The Mightiest of Their Kind, Thundering Across the Welcoming Plains
Carved by the very oldest men, when we still knew the spirits who thunder through the invisible airs that surround us.

As long as you offer the proper gifts to the Bison Kings the statue represents, you will enjoy every success on your hunts for a month and a day, proportional to the magnitude of the gifts offered. As it is sympathetic magic that fuels this, the gifts will not be taken bodily. The curse of the Bison Kings will rest heavily on they who take their gifts however.

Hypistrixes' Stone
Carved by a mighty assassin, who was said to be able slay a man in a single blow of his blade when he wished it.

When this stone is attached to a sword, dagger, or the like, its strange magic takes hold of the weapon's wielder. The wielder can no longer score critical hits with the weapon by normal means. However, they can roll a 'tracking' d20, keep it by their side, and reduce the total on the dice by 1 each time they attack. When they make an attack and the 'tracking' d20 shows 1, that attack is a critical hit. They then roll the 'tracking' d20 again, and continue the process.

The effect is born of a Luck Spirit Hypistrixes bound within the stone. While mercurial and alien-minded, it can be communicated with as all spirits can, and those that can form a friendship with the spirit will enjoy the benefits, as the enchantment bonus of the blade increases, and the size of the 'tracking' dice decreases. It is desperately hard to maintain the relationship for very long, however. Luck Spirits are changeable in the extreme, and even day-to-day their tastes and moods change entirely.

Jorrul's Lament
Grown by Jorrul, the mightiest Alchemist of his time, in the shape and temper of his lover.

No-one now knows why Jorrul was driven to grow this creature, though many have offered many differing explanations. All that can be divined however, is that something went terribly, terribly wrong, and the Homunculus grew to maturity alone and masterless.

Now, it lies dormant until someone with the appropriate knowledge of the sigils and rituals required attunes to it. It serves the one who has attuned to it faithfully and diligently as a normal man with scores of 13 in all of its statistics. It has triple the normal number of HP, and bleeds mercury.

If the attuned owner of the Homunculus should die, and the Homunculus can reach the corpse within a minute of its death, the Homunculus will suck the spirit out of the corpse through the mouth, transposing and swapping spirits. The Homunculus dies in the owner's original body, and the owner now lives within the Homunculus' body. The owner replaces their Physical Statistics with 13s, and lose d4 x 10% of their experience points from the transfer, but otherwise survives the experience.

Finnegal's Sacrement
Written by a small boy in a swamp who stumbled across something he really shouldn't have.

The scroll bears a terrible secret, a deep and mighty facet of the universe, contained and bastardised in writing upon a piece of paper, its edges charred and curling as if scorched by flame. The full power of the Sacrement can never be truly unlocked, but with an hour of study, unwieldy magics can be utilised. If you use the scroll, at the end of the hour of study, make a Wisdom Saving Throw. On a failure, roll a d4 and decrease your Statistics by that amount, in any order and combination you wish. On a success, decrease one of your Statistics by 1. Once you have done that, you may change one word on your character sheet to something that it could conceivably be (ie, you could change your race, or change a potion of invisibility to a potion of Immortaility, but not to a potion of Godhood), or you may decrease a single number as much as you like, or you may increase a single number by 1 (no, you can't pick the place value of the number you change).

You may use the Sacrement more than once, but the time taken to study it doubles with each use, and each time you use the Sacrement beyond the first, the number you must decrease your statistics by increases by 1 if you fail the saving throw. So for example, if this is the third time you use the Sacrement, it takes 4 hours to study, and if you fail the saving throw you must decrease your statistics by d4+2.

Statue of Our Lady Belladona
No-one knows or could ever find out what hands carved this statue, or how they carved it 120 feet beneath the surface of the ocean.

Someone who knows the Rites of Our Fair Lady will know that if you drown a willing victim at the feet of the statue, you will bear the curse of Our Lady Belladona. The curse decreases the Constitution Score of the bearer of the curse by 1 each day, and can never be removed, except possibly by divine intervention. Perhaps not even then. The bearer of the curse will only become aware that they have been cursed once their Constitution Score has been halved by the curse, but they will know no further details of the curse except by magics or one who knows the Rites of The Fair Lady of the Seas who tells them.

Someone who is intimately familiar with the Rites of Our Fair Lady will also know that the curse can be passed on by spitting into the mouth of another person, and having them swallow it.

Safe-Guard Scarab
The amulet was carved from Lapis by an ancient Priest of a Cult of Immortality.

At the bearer's command, the owner of the amulet can command the Scarab to burrow into their flesh and dig out an impurity with unerring accuracy. It can also dig out unwanted thoughts, feelings, sights, sense, whatever you can ask of it. However, the ministrations of the Scarab are not pleasant in the least, and the scars are permanent. Each use of the Scarab reduces your Maximum Hit Points by 1d4, or potentially more depending on the nature of the impurity you request the Scarab to remove.

The Reliquary of Martyr Benedictus - Boxwood
Carved by Benedictus' most devoted apostle to contain his last breath.

The Boxwood is magically airtight, and the breath can never escape unless knowingly released, and even when it is released, the breath is recalled instantly when the box is closed.

When held by someone of the same Faith as Benedictus, they may cast Bless upon themselves once per day as part of any non-spellcasting action they make. They may instead cast Bane upon someone of a differing Faith as part of any non-spellcasting action they make.

The holder of the Reliquary can as an action break the Boxwood utterly, totally releasing the power of the Saint's-Relic within, casting Flamestrike centered on themselves. They automatically pass their Saving Throw against the spell. 

The Walls of Respite - Monumental Walls
Built by no human hands, the stones were raised by the earth at the Elves' request, the barriers put in place by the desires of the dead.

As long as the wall stands, nothing can enter unless invited by something within the walls. No power, living, dead, spirit, elemental, divine, can subvert this law. Not even magical or spiritual possession can trick the walls, nor can even sickness or curses.

Servitor Helm - Helmet
Forged a hundred times by the hands of the desperate in the Wars of High Flames, only six are thought to have survived.

The wearer of the servitor helm gains superior mental protection and bravery, the ultimate willingness to dive into the heart of battle and fight without fear. The wearer gains advantage on all Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma Saving Throws they must make, and cannot be Frightened at all. However, they are also loyal to an absolute fault, and in fact if they perceive someone to be their Ranking Commander, they cannot refuse an Order from them by any means at all.

Mountain Gods

The format for Forest Gods is pretty easily adapted for other sorts of Spirit Gods, so that's what I'm going to do for like, loads of landscapes, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!

Mountain Gods are tall and solitary things, they wander but slowly, achingly patrolling the chains of stone. Often, they can be found simply meditating in the thin light of the sun, wind whistling through its body. Their grey minds turn in long tectonic patterns, and when they do move at speed, the reasons are cold and alien, and unrelated to anything we can perceive. They see as continents see, as stones see, the long slow and predictable future they have no choice but to follow.


This is the main aesthetic of the Mountain God, combine this with the Forms table to determine what it actually looks like. This is actually all one big d10 table; it is merely arranged into 3 subtables (well, 4 sort of), and the result tells you which sub-type your aspect is arranged into Rocken, Weather, or Animal. This affects how you roll on some further tables, and the types of powers and followers the Forest God can have.

Rocken Aspects
1 - Igneous
2 - Sedimentary
3 - Metamorphic
Weather Aspects
4 - Snow
5 - Wind
6 - Fog
Animal Aspects
7 - Roc
8 - Lion
9 - Goat
Volcanic Aspect
10 - Volcanic


The shape of the Mountain God, made of its aspect. It is always larger than a man, towering over him at least twice as high.

1 - Man
2 - Serpents
3 - Lizard
4 - Cloud
5 - Eagle
6 - Lion
7 - Serpent
8 - Giant
9 - Yeti
10 - Wendigo


Additional cosmetic features for your Forest God if you wish. Should probably only have one or two at most.

1 - Skeletal
2 - Crawling
3 - Sheds Snow
4 - Sheds Dust
5 - Sheds Rubble
6 - Covered in Lichens
7 - Howls like the Wind in Rage
8 - Light around it is thinner and crisper
9 - Air around it is thinner and crisper
10 - The God is always seated.

Sacred Space

Where the Mountain God truly dwells atop their high and lonely peaks, where their essence dwells in slumber, where supplicants offer their sacrifices and where the winds carry words of praise and anger. If Gods can only be killed on their home planes, this is where the Mountain God can be slain. Though of course, in their Sacred Space, their powers are at their fiercest, and the God's followers will always come running if violence is brought to the Sacred Space.

1 - The Very Peak of the Mountain
2 - A Deep and Jagged-Edged Crevasse
3 - A Shadowed Cleft between Twinned Rocks
4 - A Dark and Meandering Cave
5 - A Cold and Creeping Glacier
6 - A Circle of Lonely Standing Stones
7 - A Field of Platforms, Bodies left atop to be pecked at by crows
8 - A Boulder, Mightier than all its Bretheren
9 - Amidst many, many Piles of Stacked Stones
10 - A Wide and Windy Plateau

Volcanic Outlook

Volcano Gods are like their Volcanos, and this is how you determine their temperaments.

1 - Extinct and Sleeping, for as long as anyone can remember
2 - Extinct and Sleeping, since it erupted last
3 - Dormant, for many long years to come
4 - Dormant, for many long years to come
5 - Dormant, for now...
6 - Dormant, for now...
7 - Brewing, it will erupt one day
8 - Brewing, it will erupt soon
9 - Erupting, it has blasted much, and now it is settling
10 - Erupting, it has only just begun


Mountain Gods should always have at least two sets of followers, maybe as high as five. Destroyed sets of followers should be regained (and rerolled) at the next equinox or solstice. They are fiercely loyal to the Mountain God, and often times as intelligent as men if they would otherwise not be. If you don't recognise an entry, just take a peek below, there should be a little description there for you. Or make up your own. Doesn't bother me.

1 - Stone Motelings (4d6)
2 - A Stone Oracle
3 - Fossil Demons (d3)
4 - A Stone Giant
5 - Stone Ghosts (d12)
6 - Stone Shepards (d4)
7 - A Flinty-Pede
8 - Oreads (2d6)
9 - Earth Elementals (d4)
10 - Deathless (d6, exploding)

1 - A Fog Serpent
2 - Breeze Motelings (4d6)
3 - A Cloud Giant
4 - A Storm Giant
5 - Blizzard Wraiths (d8)
6 - Air Elementals (d4)
7 - A Roc
8 - An Ice Giant
9 - A Glacial Worm
10 - Deathless (d6, exploding)

1 - Spirit Ravens (d4 swarms)
2 - A Roc
3 - Mountain Lions and a King of Lions (2d4)
4 - A family of Yeti and a King of Yeti (3d4)
5 - A Herd of Goats and a King of Goats (3d6)
6 - A Flock of Griffins and a King of Yeti (3d4)
7 - Mountain Pipers (2d12)
8 - A pack of Bears and a King of Bears (2d8)
9 - A pack of Coyotes and a King of Coyotes (3d8)
10 - Deathless (d6, exploding)

1 - Flame Motelings (4d6)
2 - Lampads (2d6)
3 - A Fire Giant
4 - Flame Elementals (d4)
5 - Pyroclastic Wraiths (d8)
6 - Cinders Demons (d6)
7 - A Forest Ghost
8 - A Smoke Beast
9 - Hot Spring Guardians (d4)
10 - Deathless (d6, exploding)

Fossil Demons
Everyone knows that a dead body is the easiest to possess, and that the longer dead it has been, the stronger the connection when possession is done. Usually this is outweighed by the further fragility of the poor, brittle bones. Not so with Fossil Demons.
They are hard to find deep within the bossom of the earth, and harder to bring back to the surface, but if a spirit could effectively possess the bones of those ancient beasts now compressed into rock and stone then the resultant beast is terrible indeed, strength and weight of stone, and a terrifying connection between bone and spirit. Fossil Demons come in many shapes, sizes, and forms, but all are deadly.
Stone Ghosts
Even rocks will die on the geological scale of time, and their spirits must go somewhere. The long long years of battering by wind and rain will eventually reduce even the greatest stone to mere sand and dust, and it is these whirling clouds of melancholy and lost glory that Stone Ghosts form. If properly incited, they fight like a particularly angry and ferocious sandstorm, flensing and scouring flesh to the very bone. However, being the spirits of stones, it takes them an awful long time by human reckonings to actually reach this state of rage.
Stone Shepards
Usually invisible spirits, they are the guides of rocks and stones, following the long long plans of geological movement and destiny. Leaning heavily on their crooked staves, they keep watch over scree and rubble in particular, ensuring that whatever movement they make, they always end up in their proper place. Usually they are content to clean up after material beings, but if ever roused to wrath, their command of the stones will make them move in ways far faster and more surprising than would ever be expected. They have plenty of time to replace each stone later on.
As the Faerie come from the Undying Lands, so do the Un-named come from the Deathless Lands [know better to some cultures as the Shadowfell]. Grim and gaunt are they; some flee the dreadful quiet of their home to find empty and temporary succor in the mortal worlds, spilling out into the similarly quiet and bleak places of the world. As such, some will congregate in the presence of Mountain Gods, to contemplate and meditate, and put off their return together.
Blizzard Wraiths
When men die in snowstorms, oftentimes their spirits will be lost too, and as spirits linger they build bonds to the place they remain, as the belief that this is where they evidently must be grows and germinates within. Blizzard Wraiths are they that become bound to the storms in which they died, white shades of blindness and weakness. They prey on the living, desperately craving the sight and strength they no longer have, accelerating the freezing process. Those slain in the presence of a Blizzard Wraith inevitably become further Blizzard Wraiths, corrupted by the presence of the first, until a mountain becomes a howling place of perpetual blizzard and lethargy, reality now being shaped in turn by the collective despair of the Wraiths.
Glacial Worms
These titanic beasts have all been dead for aeons longer than man has been alive, slain by the slow warming of the world from the earliest ice-ages. Despite this, some are still active in the modern day, having adopted a unique survival strategy; they freeze their bodies in the glaciers that still creep and crawl along the unfrozen world, prolonging in perpetuity the final death-spasms of their brains. For most, this would be little better than an eternal sleep before the end, for the magically gifted Worms, the casting of their minds out into the physical world is but child's play. Little can they achieve in the mundane world, but it is better than nothing.
Among mortals, there are precious few who understand the worm's true natures, most simply interpreting the actions of the Worm-Minds as the actions of the Spirits of the Place. Their actions are unfathomable to our warm-blooded ape-brains, and so often they and us come into conflict, an impossible and fruitless struggle that can only be ended by thawing the body of the Worm and destroying its frozen brain utterly. Of course, this rarely happens.
Spirit Ravens
Tiny little Spirits of Death and Ill Omen in the shape of birds, in their flocks (or murders) they magnify their powers and their intelligence. Thus, they gather in great numbers, developing a slow and steady gestalt hive-mind of a kind, with the largest and oldest murders more intelligent that the greatest minds, and more magically potent that any arch-mage. Such flocks are rare, thankfully, and few ever become smarter than your average man, but they should not be underestimated. They still control strange and weird magics, and are terribly cunning. Often, they can be found in the courts of the Mountain-Gods, and it is they that "dispose" of the bodies and corpses offered up to the mountain. Legends say they carry up the soul, piece-meal, up to the highest of heavens. They will not say either way if they actually do.
Mountain Pipers
They are the cause of the strange and unearthly music that is reported upon the loneliest peaks of mountains and is explained as the wind meandering at speed between rocks. They are people of a sort, only they welcome spirit-possession, the better for them both to withstand the loneliness and barrenness of the mountains. Music is their pass-time, and they live for it and it alone. Approach them with violence, and they will scatter and flee; approach them with kindness, and they will merely continue to play and ignore you. To really engage, you must meet them with music.
Kings of Animals
These are beasts always of at least twice as many Hit Die as regular members of their species, and have magnified powers of their lesser kindred. They draw others of their kind to them like magnets, like royal courts. They are the Platonic Ideals of their kind.
Just tiny, cute little elementals. Be careful though, in swarms, they have all the capabilities of their greater cousins, a fact of which they are well aware.
Long chain-coils of stones and boulders, flinten legs clattering through the ground, basalt mandibles gobbling up the earth, metal-ore-streaks running down their backs. As worms are to soil, so Flinty-pedes are to the deep rocks of the earth. Sometimes, they form friendships with the Mountain Gods whose grand towers of stone form part of the Flinty-Pedes hunting grounds. Of all the courtiers of Mountain Gods, these are perhaps to be feared the most, they bring no signs of their passing, and strike from beneath the very earth you tread on. Their only 'weakness' as such is that they must always be contected to the earth in which they live. If ever seperated from it, they instantly crumble into inanimate rock.
Stone Oracles 
They scratch their messages into the earth; long, gaunt fingers of crystal scoring the future into the muck, eyes of mirror-facets seeing what will come, tectonically accurate, the long-seeing visions of stone with paths as set as the course of stars. They are valuable in every way, their words carry the course of time, their flesh is crystal, and they abhor violence. Almost a dream come true. The Earth is their friend though, and those that would strike down an Oracle would face the Enmity of the World itself, a curse of the greatest magnitude. This doesn't stop some from trying. It never ends well.
Fog Serpents
Normally, Fog-Serpents are the Genii Loci of great storm-clouds, but sometimes they drift across the high peaks of mountains and cling to the stones. Fighting them is like fighting the weather, in nearly every aspect. They wreath their adopted woods in mists and fogs that coat the ground in ethereal white, and their roar is the distant rumble of thunder. The only blessing we have in the battles against the Fog Serpents, mighty as they are, is that they are almost completely incorporeal. They can summon great winds, and bolts of lightning; but their thick coils, nearly six feet thick, can do you no harm; nor can their great maws swallow you up. Small mercies at least.
Pyroclastic Wraiths
Much like Blizzard Wraiths, Pycroclastic Wraiths are delusional spirits except they were slain by the sudden rush of a Volcano's pyroclastic flows. Almost totally vapourised from the flow, they sometimes don't even realise they are dead, and become dreadfully confused and despondent when they discover that life now isn't quite how they remembered it. Dwelling on as sooty smudges drifting through the air, any attempt they make to affect the world erupts into flame and carbonised ruin, further fueling the Wraith's despair.
Cinders Demons
These are Stone Spirits who believe themselves trapped by their stoney countenance (and thus, truly are) but deep within have a burning desire to run and crush and live. They appear as many other boulders do, pilled with stones, but black and charred by heat, opalescent veins of oxidised ore. When the volcano beneath them rouses, however, so do they. The more the fire within the earth wells up and begins to boil over, so too do the cores of the Cinders Demons, and they awaken into molten stone beasts. Like dragons or great lizards out of myths, black plates of stone drift over their liquid cores hence their names, and their breath is smoke and glassy dusts. 
Forest Ghosts
What do you suppose happens when a Forest is swallowed up by fire?
The Forest Ghost is a colossus of burned and blackened beams (use the forms of the Forest God to determine in what shape) that remains when a Forest is dead and gone. As their form would suggest, on the outside they are cool and defeated. Deep within, awaiting some spark to reignite the flame, is an unquenchable rage. They know not what destroyed them and reduced them to this wreck, but they hate whatever it was that did it. Homeless and friendless (fire is one of the best ways to scour away the spiritual landscape, flame spirits are total bullies and jerks) they usually end up dreadfully alone if slain by wild-fire, or in the court of the Volcano God that scorched their home away. A dreadful irony.
Small comfort can be taken though, in that eventually, the forest will always grow back, and the flame within the beams of the Forest Ghost finally flickers and dies, and the Ghost becomes the Spirit of the Forest again.
Smoke Beasts
Some spirits believe themselves to be (and thus are) horrifying hideous, and will seek whatever they can to shroud themselves from sight. Smoke beasts are those Spirits who find great wells of ash and soot and throw it all about them like spiderwebs, drifting and cavorting clouds of black-grey on the wind. Unfortunately for all, this rarely does to settle the spirits mind, and they become incredibly hostile to any they perceive as being able to see them (even though they usually can't), and are especially savage towards Shamans, who can actually see them. The presence of a Mountain god calms them, to a degree, and they can even find some peace upon the highest and loneliest peaks.
Hot Spring Guardians
Somewhat perversely for God's of Flame and Stone, Hot Spring Guardians are Spirits of Water, Genii Loci of those sacred spaces, and of them they are fiercely protective. They are profoundly jealous creatures, and only once you have shown yourself to be totally subservient to them and shown yourself properly 'purified' will they allow you to bathe in their precious pools. It is well worth the effort too, and the healing potencies of Hot Springs, especially those home to Guardians, is well-documented.


Mountain Gods have Powers from their Aspect equal to the number of Followers they have. They may swap up to one power from their Aspect for a power from another Aspect.
All spells cast by the Mountain God are cast as if by a spellcaster with levels equal to the Mountain God's Hit Die, and all spells cast at a level equal to the Mountain God's Wisdom modifier, unless it would be higher.

1 - Shape Stone
2 - Call Elemental
3 - Earthquake
4 - Lithify
5 - Primal Metals
6 - Fossilise
7 - Bones of the Earth
8 - Roots of Stone
9 - Erode
10 - Call Fossils

Shape Stone
The Mountain God can cast Earth Tremor and Stone Shape a number of times per day equal to its Wisdom Modifier, and Bones of the Earth once per day. It also knows the Mold Earth cantrip, targeting only Stone.
Call Elemental
The Mountain God can bring forth Elementals to serve it faithfully as an action. It can summon a total number of Hit Dice of Elementals equal to double its own with this ability, with no single Elemental having a number of HD greater than twice the Mountain God's Charisma Modifier. To manifest particularly powerful Elemental, there must be a natural phenomena of particular beauty, or grandeur home to such an Elemental for the Mountain God to call forth.
The Mountain God can cast earthquake once per day.
As an action, the Mountain God can attempt to turn a creature into stone, the target must make a Constitution Saving Throw. It takes d4 dexterity damage on a failure, it is stunned on its turn as its skin begins to toughen into stone, its AC increases by 1 as long as its dexterity is damaged by this ability, and it must make the same saving throw on its next turn to. On a success, the creature takes 1 dexterity damage, and the effect ends. A creature that succeeds on its Saving Throw against this ability cannot be targeted by it again until the next new moon. A creature whose dexterity is reduced to 0 by this effect turns is completely Petrified.
Primal Metals
As part of their action in which they target a creature, a Mountain God may also cause a metallic item carried by the creature to revert back to unrefined ore, in most cases causing the item to become useless as a tool, and if targeted at weapons, they may be used at best as an improvised weapon. If the item targeted is magical, it is only affected on a 2 in 6 chance, potentially less for more powerful items.
As part of their action in which they target a creature, a Mountain God may also cause a wooden or other organic item carried by the creature to become stone, increasing its weight by a factor of 10, and in most cases causing it to become useless as a tool, and if targeted at weapons, they may be used at best as an improvised weapon. If the item targeted is magical, it is only affected on a 2 in 6 chance, potentially less for more powerful items.
Bones of the Earth
As an action, the Mountain God shifts the very earth to their desires. Each creature the Mountain God can see must make a Strength Saving Throw. On a Failure they are thrown 5 feet for every point they failed the Saving Throw by, taking falling damage for the distance they move as the earth batters them into a new position, and they land prone. The direction they move is decided by the Mountain God. Creatures that succeed are merely knocked prone.
Roots of Stone
When the Mountain God wishes, any area of ground that the Mountain God can see becomes deadly sharp and twisted and ragged. The areas are difficult terrain, and if a creature moves more than quarter their normal speed, they suffer d4 slashing damage for each further 5 feet they move.
The Mountain God can cast Disintergrate a number of times per day equal to its Constitution Modifier, targeting only rock and stone.
Call Fossils
The Mountain God can bring forth Fossil Demons from the earth to serve it faithfully as an action. It can summon a total number of Hit Dice of Fossils equal to double its own with this ability, with no single Fossil having a number of HD greater than twice the Mountain God's Charisma Modifier. To manifest a particularly powerful Fossil, there must be such a Fossil of spectacular quality or size for the Mountain God to call forth.

1 - Blizzard
2 - Create Mist
3 - Flash Freeze
4 - Call Elemental
5 - Thunder Storm
6 - Blazing Light
7 - Command Wind
8 - Avalanch
9 - Empty Lungs
10 - Control Weather

As an action, the Mountain God can create a great storm of Snow in a 60 foot radius around it, lightly obscuring everything within the radius. Any creature except the Mountain God within the area takes cold damage equal to half the Mountain God's Hit Die at the start of their turns. This effect lasts as long as the Mountain God wishes, or until it is reduced to 0 Hit Points. As a further action during a turn during which this ability is active, the Mountain God can thicken the storm further, increasing the effect to heavily obscure everything within the radius.
Create Mist
The Mountain God can cast Fog Cloud and it does not require an action to cast it, though it cannot cast it more than once per turn. It can also cast Windwall a number of times per day equal to its Constitution Modifier.
Flash Freeze
As an action, a sudden wave of cold magics gush forth from the Mountain God, freezing the ground in a 60 foot square touching the Mountain God, turning the area into difficult terrain. Any creature in the area when the ability is used must make a Constitution or Strength Saving Throw (the creature's choice) or be frozen in place and immobilised. A creature that starts its turn immobilised because of this ability takes 2d6 cold damage at the start of its turn, and it can attempt the saving throw again if it is still conscious, ending the effect on it on a success.
Call Elemental
The Mountain God can bring forth Elementals to serve it faithfully as an action. It can summon a total number of Hit Dice of Elementals equal to double its own with this ability, with no single Elemental having a number of HD greater than twice the Mountain God's Charisma Modifier. To manifest particularly powerful Elemental, there must be a natural phenomena of particular beauty, or grandeur home to such an Elemental for the Mountain God to call forth.
Thunder Storm
The Mountain God can cast Call Lightning and Thunderwave a number of times per day equal to its Wisdom Modifier, and Storm of Vengeance once per day. It also knows the Thunderclap cantrip.
Blazing Light
The Mountain God can cast Dawn and Daylight a number of times per day equal to its Wisdom Modifier.
Command Wind
The Mountain God can cast Gust of Wind and Warding Wind a number of times per day equal to its Wisdom Modifier, and Whirlwind once per day. It also knows the Gust cantrip.
Once per day, the Mountain God can cast Flamestrike. Damage dealt is switched from fire and radiant to cold and bludgeoning.
Empty Lungs
As an action, the Mountain God attempts to steal the breath from the very throat of a target. They must make a Constitution Saving Throw, losing 1 Hit Point on a success, and halving their Hit Points on a failure. The Mountain God must concentrate on this effect, which only ends when the Mountain God's concentration ends or is broken.
Control Weather
The Mountain God cast Control Weather and Call Lightning as rituals.

1 - Command Beasts
2 - Stoneskin
3 - Induce Hunger
4 - Induce Fear
5 - Mountain Sickness
6 - Howl
7 - Loneliness
8 - Crawl
9 - Call Spirits
10 - Crow Storm

Command Beasts
As an action, the Mountain God calls upon the creatures that inhabit its domain to serve their lord and Master. In d4 turns, 4 swarms of beasts of the Mountain God's choice arrive to serve the Mountain God.
As an action, the Mountain God can cast Stoneskin on all friendly creatures it can see.
Induce Hunger
As an action, the Mountain God can attempt to cause a living creature to become deathly Hungry and exhausted. The target must make a Constitution Saving Throw, gaining a level of exhaustion for every three points they fail the saving throw by past the first.
Induce Fear
As an action, the Mountain God can attempt to cause a living creature to become deathly afraid of the Mountain God. The target must make a Wisdom Saving Throw, becoming frightened of the Mountain God on a failure for as long as it can see the Mountain God.
Mountain Sickness
As an action, the Mountain God can attempt to cause a living creature to become dizzy and nauseous from the altitude. The target must make a Constitution Saving Throw, if they fail they become sickened as long as they can see whilst they remain on the mountain.
As part of another action, the Mountain God lets out a great howl like the thunder of stone on stone. They cast Thunderwave as part of their other action. They may do this a number of times per day equal to their Constitution Modifier.
As an action, the Mountain God can attempt to sow loneliness and dreadful despair amongst a group of creatures with total Hit Die equal to or less than the Mountain God's own Hit Die that it has seen within the last 24 hours. Each creature must make a Wisdom Saving throw, and each creature that fails will now no longer really be able to interact with their allies due to their paranoia and hallucinations. At a minimum, affected creatures will refuse all beneficial spells and actions from their team-mates; attempting saving throws against spells cast on them, gaining no benefits from Help actions, etc. This effect lasts until while the creatures remain on the Mountain God's Peak.
As an action, the Mountain God can attempt to cause the limbs of a group of creatures with total Hit Die equal to or less than the Mountain God's own Hit Die to become as heavy as the stone of the mountain itself. It must have seen these creatures within the last 24 hours. Each creature must make a Strength Saving throw, and each creature that fails reduces their movement speed to 10 feet, and at the end of each turn that they are not prone, they must make a Strength Check or fall Prone. This effect lasts until while the creatures remain on the Mountain God's Peak.
Call Spirits
The Mountain God can bring forth Spirits to serve it faithfully as an action. It can summon a total number of Hit Dice of Spirits equal to double its own with this ability, with no single Spirit having a number of HD greater than twice the Mountain God's Charisma Modifier. To manifest particularly powerful Spirit, there must be in residence on the Mountain God's Peak for the Mountain God to call forth.
Crow Storm
As an action, the Mountain God can create a great storm of Crows in a 60 foot radius around it, lightly obscuring everything within the radius. Any creature except the Mountain God within the area is affected as if by a bane spell. This effect lasts as long as the Mountain God wishes, or until it is reduced to 0 Hit Points. As a further action during a turn during which this ability is active, the Mountain God can thicken the storm further and cause the crows to carry away the spirits of the Dying, killing any creatures that are dying instantly.

1 - Eruption
2 - Command Smoke
3 - Cinders Breath
4 - Pyroclasm
5 - Molten Vapours
6 - Animal Madness
7 - Call Elemental
8 - Pyroclastic Surge
9 - Melt
10 - Stoneskin

The Mountain God can cast Firestorm once per day, with the following changes. Each 10 foot cube the spell creates appears one per turn over a minute, and each last 1 minute after the last cube has appeared. Each cube only deals 2d10 fire damage on a failed Saving Throw, or half as much if a creature in it succeeds its Saving Throw.
Command Smoke
The Mountain God can cast Fog Cloud and it does not require an action to cast it, though it cannot cast it more than once per turn, and the Fog is Smoke instead. It can also cause the smoke to become thick enough to poison creature's within it on a failed Constitution Saving Throw a number of times per day equal to its Constitution Modifier as part of any action it makes.
Cinders Breath
Once per hour, the Mountain God can breath fire as a Flame Dragon of exactly the same/roughly similar HD.
As an action, the Mountain God can cast Investiture of Fire on any number of creatures it can see, though it can only affect a number of targets equal to a maximum of its Constitution Score each day with this ability.
Molten Vapours
Once per day, the Mountain God can cast Incendiary Cloud.
Animal Madness
All beasts that are not part of the Mountain God's court must make a Wisdom saving throw when they first see the Mountain God, or be permanently Frightened of it.
Call Elemental
The Mountain God can bring forth Elementals to serve it faithfully as an action. It can summon a total number of Hit Dice of Elementals equal to double its own with this ability, with no single Elemental having a number of HD greater than twice the Mountain God's Charisma Modifier. To manifest particularly powerful Elemental, there must be a natural phenomena of particular beauty, or grandeur home to such an Elemental for the Mountain God to call forth.
Pyroclastic Surge
As an action, the Mountain God rushes forward with a billowing cloud of flame and rock and gas behind it. The Mountain God moves exactly 60 feet, which can take it through other creature's spaces. Creatures the Mountain God moves through must make a Consitution Saving Throw or a Dexterity Saving Throw (creature's choice), taking 2d8 fire and 2d8 poison damage on a failure, and half as much damage on a success. If a creature fails the saving throw, and takes maximum damage on one of the fire damage die, they are also knocked prone. Similarly, if they take maximum damage on one of the poison damage die, they are also poisoned until the end of their next turn.
As an action, the Mountain God melts a non-magical metal object it can see. If it is held, the creature must make a Dexterity Saving Throw or take 2d8 fire damage as the object is destroyed. It is is being worn, the Creature must make a Constitution Saving Throw, taking 4d8 fire damage on a failure or half as much on a success.
As an action, the Mountain God can cast Stoneskin on all friendly creatures it can see.

A Bundle of Tombs

1 - The Open Grave
An open pit, lined with bodies, picked clean. At the bottom is a richly adorned altar, caked in blood.
1 - The bodies are all stitched together, chest to back, and should you trespass, it will rise...
2 - Offer something pleasing on the altar, and the bodies all answer your questions in one voice.
3 - When it rains, the pit fills up with blood, and hags fish for organs.
4 - Occasionally, someone will offer a new body on the altar; whispering words of black magic.

2 - The Shining Fields
A neat graveyard, ordered ranks of gravestones. Some have gemstones encrusted into them. Others have gory, crusted arms bursting from them.
1 - It is merely a custom to leave an exposed arm, the better to satiate the local Hunger Spirits.
2 - The bodies of the dead are enchanted such that if their grave is disturbed, their body will animate to defend it.
3 - The Jewels are offerings to an esoteric Death-God to ensure the peaceful rest of the deceased.
4 - The dead here are cursed, they still feel the pains of life, though they are dead. Animals are allowed to chew them as a form of eternal torture.

3 - The Excarnation Site
Many platforms adorn the mountain-side; stone, wood, ivory. Crows perch above, watching eagerly. All sorts have dropped from the platforms to the ground below.
1 - The Crows are sky-spirits who carry the deceased up into the heavens, body and soul.
2 - Those who go to die here donate their bones to the Cathedral far below them.
3 - The scree-fields are still wandered by the released spirits of those who offered up their bodies.
4 - A mighty Mountain-God in the shape of an almighty eagle lays claim to the dead offered here, and the Crows are its spies, to ensure none of its bounty are tampered with.

4 - The Bog Burials
The pool is black and thick with blotchy bodies bloated on corpse-gases. Something glints in the murk...
1 - The whole -swamp lake is one immense Water Elemental, and the bodies are offerings to supplicate its wrath and keep it buried in the earth.
2 - Strange, serpentine creatures swim in the depths of the mud, and suck the gases from the corpses.
3 - Only the worst criminals are buried here, to keep their spirits trapped in the reflected world of the water.
4 - The site of some ancient battle from elder days, the restless spirits of the dead stir the waters in strange ways, distorting the dry and wet land.

5 - The Cremation Shrine
A stone altar, crusted in ash and scorch. A curved wall surrounds the far side, urns sequestered snugly in many, many recesses.
1 - Ash coats the walls, sometimes it forms the words of the dead; angry and hateful usually, prophetic very ocassionally.
2 - Tiny burnt bones rattle around the floor. If you disturb the dead, the bones rise up in a great bone serpent to attack.
3 - A Lampad dwells in a grand brazier, guardian of the sacred flames. She knows everything about those charred by her ritual flames.
4 - If you tip an urn into the ritual basin, the ashes will show you the way to the underworld the spirit dwells in. If you don't put the ashes back, the spirit will know however...

6 - The Bright Tomb
The coffin is glass, or perhaps crystal. The sepulcher it rests in is bright from many windows. Too bright.
1 - The Tomb ensures that light always cascades around its walls, never ending, never allowing the vampire in the coffin to escape...
2 - The Tomb is actually bright from within, a dead angel and its holy tools and equipment encased in the centre of it all.
3 - The tomb holds a sacred flame that must never die. Clearly, this is is not a permanent solution.
4 - The Dead inside the tomb was a great Saint, when it has need of its body again the crystal parts as water to admit the Saint its proper place in the world again.

7 - Burial By Water
The wooden causeway stops well short of crossing the bay. The bodies are down there, somewhere. Down there too are the many offerings cast down with them...
1 - Spirits of the deep possess bodies buried in the waters, thus they are all buried with stones tied to their feet.
2 - A mysterious, shelled beast dwells deep in the waters, and the offerings and bodies are soldiers sent to fight an eternal spiritual battle with the beast.
3 - They say that water is the birthing ground of all life, returning the dead to the water ensures their new place in mankind's second, and inevitable, childhood. The offerings are aids for them to take with them in their rebirth.
4 - As the void churns above, so it churns below. Those returned to the water will one day find their way up into the heavens to dance with stars evermore.

8 - The Tomb-Tower
A tower rises high, and its sub-levels descend deep. Coffins lie in recesses on every wall.
1 - They say that if you follow the tower up high enough, you will find the tombs of saints. Follow it low enough, and you will find dead and dormant demons.
2 - They say that at the very very bottom of the tower is the tomb of an Ivory Dragon and all its horde. Some say the very tower itself is the horde.
3 - The dead are the victims of a grand, Divine Punishment. Angelic hands raised the stones, and sacred rites placed the bodies within the tower. To disturb the bodies is a cardinal sin.
4 - In the landscape of life, it always helps to know where it is the dead rest. The tower is a grand sign-post; leave well enough alone, and the dead will do so too.

9 - The Elder Tombs
A sprawling sepulcher complex scabs the hill. The earliest graves are said to be elves, but everyone knows that elves can't really die. Right?
1 - The dead within the complex have taken the name 'necropolis' a little too literally...
2 - The Old Tombs have recently been opened, but seemingly from within. Tracks lead into and out of other tombs...
3 - There are a lot of angry spirits, apparently someone has been disturbing the tombs, despite the many, many curses that have warped and wracked their body...
4 - Well, either way, the dead do rest peacefully here. The curses that guard their tombs have withered away over centuries, and the guardians have long since decayed away. It seems the plunder is ripe for the taking, and yet... none have taken it.

10 - The Sealed Sepulcher
A grand dwarven tomb towers above the countryside. The runes on its side are said to describe the way in...
1 - The doors will only open to admit a dead dwarf and those that accompany it.
2 - The Ceremonial Staff of the high priest of the Deep King of Stones and Steel is the key to deciphering the coded messages.
3 - Of course, the actual entrance is far, far below the surface. This is merely an outcropping of the tomb structure. Though there is a shaft of some kind somewhere on the building...
4 - The spirit of the Tomb will only open its doors when properly propitiated. It keeps guard over the dead in exchange for these offerings.

11 - The Abandoned Body
A sack of bones lies barely buried by the roadside. It is kept shut with a glittering ring on a string.
1 - The ring bears the sigil of some grand house from a distant city. Someone would probably pay quite well for this...
2 - There is a letter amongst the flesh and bones. A warning.
3 - The ring belongs to some famous wizard; a fail-safe body for if everything goes terribly, terribly wrong. Perhaps not the most well-thought out plan.
4 - It is just the victim of a highway-man, the ring merely plain and dull. Then why does the flesh feel like velvet? And the ring have some strange, invisible lump on it?

12 - The Cliffs of Kings
There are many caves that pox-mark the cliff-side. Many contain bodies and mummies. Some are said to be Kings.
1 - Best not disturb one of the bodies of the Priest-Kings, lest you look back down the cliff to see a sea of mummified dead crawling up the cliff-side like locusts...
2 - Some of the recesses lead beyond the bodies deep into the rock, lined with more and more and inhumanly more bodies...
3 - Oh, apparently these guys aren't dead, they're just supremely disciplined monks who have transcended the need for food, or air, or sleep, or... much of anything.
4 - There are legends of a vicious ghoulish monster that crawls on the cliffs, that eats the flesh of those buried in the cliffs.

13 - Fortress of the Undying
The Castle's gates are closed, but the dead within continue in a gross facsimile of life.
1 - The Brigadier-Colonel bears no flesh, but his "One Command" and harsh policies ensure the dead have fair representation amongst the wider world.
2 - The curse of the Necromancer lingers on the city, never-ending dullness and labours for the city that wronged it.
3 - They have merely forgotten they are dead, and no-one quite has the heart to tell them otherwise.
4 - The plague that claimed their lives, exists within them still, moving their limbs to the tunes of the hive-mind of the sickness.

14 - The Very Normal Graveyard
Just a normal graveyard, far as you can see. With its very own spooky, spooky grounds-keeper too.
1 - There is apparently a ghost in the graveyard, and its driving housing prices into the ground!
2 - Some of the graves have been dug up recently... and you can never seem to get hold of the grounds-keeper... Hmmm...
3 - Someone keeps complaining of hearing screams and wails from the graveyard! How awful!
4 - Its always misty in there, which means that people keep seeing figures crawling out of the graves. Ha! How laughable.

15 - The Soft-Bellied City
The city was sealed, people and plague trapped within, left to rot together. Nothing got out, and as far as we know, it has been silent ever since.
1 - Now it is the quiet home of Mire-Things, that feed/depend/are the remains of, the dead of the city.
2 - A Marrow Hag has recently moved into the city, picking over the bones of the furious but impotent dead.
3 - The disease spirits that struck the city down lurk still in the abandoned streets and empty squares, waiting for the day when the gates will finally be re-opened.
4 - A shallow sea of liquified flesh coats the grounds of the city, and turgid monstrosities stalk the streets on stilt-legs, and strike looters down with mosquito-maws.

16 - The Bane'd-Fields
This simple commune used to house a cult, with no small secret. Now they all lie dead and rotting, slain all on the same day.
1 - They were a grand sacrifice to an out-being of the stars and dark. It was only partly successful. The successful part now waits panting and heaving in the basements.
2 - They sought divine transcendence, and this was their last step. Now, they have only unrest in death.
3 - A Spirit of Rage managed to slip into the compound, and as given over to their tasks as they were, the cult lasted no time at all against the spirit.
4 - A Rival God sent down an Angel of Death in wrath, a flaming sword sweeping all about the commune to strike down the unholy heathens. The Angel remains to ensure none of the cult's teachings will ever leave the compound.

17 - The Tomb of Eternal Rest
The dead in this tomb wear masks crusted in gold and jewels to ward off possessing spirits.
1 - There are many spirits that roam these hall, hoping to find the few corpses who have lost their masks so that they may walk the mortal world.
2 - There are only a few spirits here, but they are strong enough even to overpower living minds from control of their flesh...
3 - The head masks are phylacteries for the dead, slowly accumulating the energy needed to bring the ancient kings back into the world they are destined to one day inherit.
4 - The masks contain potent warding spells and charms carved into their inside, the better for the dead to use them to journey to the lands of the dead safely.

At the bottom of this Knife-Lined shaft is said to be the body of some ancient god. How do we know that? You ask too many questions don't you.
1 - It was necessary, we swear it, these knives, they are to it as air is to you, do not go, it can bring no good.
2 - The god was too great, we humbled it in the well, it drowned in its own pride and we are glad to be rid of it.
3 - It threw itself down there, slicked the walls with blood, blazed with light even as the well-water quenched it. Apparently it was a sacrifice, but what good does a sacrifice do any of us?
4 - We threw it down there so that we might drain its juices and feast upon its brown and dried meats and drink deep and glut our thirsts on its blood. Soon. Soon...

19 - Tombs of the Shining Kings
The Imperial Crypts are stuffed with wealth and are apparently completely unguarded. By humans at any rate.
1 - The statues of ancient and forgotten kings are enchanted to slowly stalk intruders, and slowly seal them within the tomb with the sheer mass of their stone bodies.
2 - Old rites of offerings of food have lured Hunger Spirits down into the tombs, where they were trapped with salt. Those who trespass are rarely left as anything more than scraps of bone.
3 - Mechanical traps lurk in the shadows in grand abundance. Most have rusted and frayed beyond functioning, but the tomb remains a maze of delicately balanced death...
4 - The lock is the greatest in this, and any land. Mechanisms within mechanisms, fail-safes in fail-safes; but if you could ever get past it, the riches are all yours for the taking.

20 - The Heart of Flame
Many seek the volcano to have their bodies flung into the lava to burn. It is the fastest return to the spirit of all the world, it is said.
1 - The Oreads that tend the rocks and stoke the flames can be propitiated to lead you down through safe paths to the heart of the mountain, where many spirits of the molten dead linger still.
2 - It is of course, all a lie. The offerings of bodies have ensured that the mountain does not erupt, sparing the world from its molten wrath.
3 - The volcano is also an open door to the spirit world, going both ways. Spirits of all kinds emerge from the sulphurous vents and hot-springs.
4 - The god of the volcano awaits, mouth gaping wide to swallow the bodies of the faithful as they float down and settle in the rock, gathering more and more strength so its eventual return from dormancy that much more apocalyptic.

Skiver Hound

Mirrors are vacuous and vacant things. They dully and perfectly reflect back a world that is already known to us, and they allow themselves to be shattered far too easily. And it is well they do. We would hate it if they actually showed what was on their other side.

The land beyond the silvered sheen of mirrors in terrible, sharp, and irrevocably hostile to us. Razor-limbed stilt-people stride through forests of cutting edges and jagged points. Fractal-plane mountains stab up from the horizon, and a cold and silver sun looms above in a sky filled with clouds of metal-dust. There are soft and blunted forms in that world, but they are a hazard to its inhabitants, so they do away with as many as they can. If they could see our world, they would despise it and us, a world of crushing death.

Thus, it is not idly that people warn of the long years of ill-fortune that follows the shattering of a mirror, though they do not know the full truth of it. Sometimes when mirrors break, some being from the scalpel-world might slip through, unclad in physical form except for the dagger-splinters of glass from the broken mirror.

It looks something like a swarm of bees imitating the shape of a dog, if the dog was something like a porcupine, and the bees something like bayonets.

The size of the Skiver Hound depends not on the size of the scalpel-being that made it, but thankfully on the size of the mirror that forms it now. Hand mirrors create only kitten sized hounds, easily bludgeoned to nothing. Full-length body mirrors however will form hounds the size of hunched over people. As far as is known, there is no upper limit to the size of a Skiver Hound, it is limited only by the size of the broken mirror.

They behave somewhat like a rabid ape that has been force-fed bath salts. They rage uncontrollably, shredding and slicing, ruining and destroying. When a Skiver Hound is born, the nearby area is rarely well defended enough to contain the hound, let alone survive it. Once the immediate area is cleansed of the obscene, blunt meat-things the hound begins to shape the world to its liking. Grinding down curves to flat planes, sharpening points, polishing what it can to mirror-sheen. A further result of this is the entry of yet more scalpel-world beings to this realm. Rather than life begetting a habitat, the habitat of the scalpel-world begets life. A mature Skiver Hound’s lair is a razored nightmare, all sharp points and whirling splinter-creatures.

Even when a Skiver Hound has fully transformed its lair, it will not stop. It merely starts the process over.

And it’s a notoriously hard cycle to break. Trying to fight a Skiver Hound is like fighting the wind, weapons and spells pass through the vacant spaces, and even when they do connect, the splinters of glass merely split into smaller splinters. In return, the Hound will scythe through you, the shards slicing and cutting and stabbing as the beast rams into and through you. Eventually though, the Skiver Hound degenerates into a whirling, furious cloud of sand, and the threat is done, mostly.

The only way to fully destroy a Skiver Hound is to melt the glass that forms its presence in the world. Binding the glass together smothers the force inside, finally fully exposing the scalpel-beast to our existence enough to smother it. Of course, forcing an angry swarm of glass shards into the flames is not such an easy task.

If a Skiver Hound can be slain and its glass recovered, it can be used to form the basis of rather potent divination tools, though one must always be careful never to break them. These recovered glass tools could also theoretically be used to access the Scalpel-world the Skiver Hound originated in. This is uttermost foolishness, needless to say.

One thing a Skiver Hound must never be exposed to is its own reflection. By forming a reflection of it, another will be born within the mirror. The reflection-beast will rage and batter against the inside of the mirror until eventually it breaks, and another Skiver Hound is loose upon the world. One way to deal with a Skiver Hound, even if only by a loose definition, is to lead a Hound to a reflecting pool. The Hound, in an attempt to bring forth its brethren into the world, will stare fruitlessly into the depths of the pool. A hound will be born within the water’s surface, but it will never be able to escape, and the two will be transfixed upon the other until something distracts the real one.

A Hound born in a mirror that it cannot break, however, will never leave the mirror, and no known force can exorcise it. This wouldn’t be such a problem save that such a mirror must be protected against breaking lest another hound be born, and that the hound-in-the-mirror can harm creature’s who’s reflection can be seen in the mirror, wounds manifesting on the real creature as the mirror-thing savages the reflected person.


Deep in the sludge ridden moors, far from civilisation, there are beasts of slime that play at being men. 
In elder days, a grand and decadent city stood where the moors would one day weep. Its people considered themselves immaculate, flawless, near-divine in their consummate perfection. An otherworldly being had visited their great city, and offered them many esoteric and obscene arts to purify themselves of any and all perceived flaws, that the people outwardly match their inward splendour. A red-hot knife, or an oiled razor blade would sheer off the imperfection without harm or blood, and the cut-off could be happily discarded without concern. Eventually, of course, some ancient and presumably long-prophesied doom came to the city, and they were destroyed. Only the ruins were left.
These days however, the Mire-Things ooze and undulate across the city’s ruins, leaving their feculent trails staining the old shattered streets. Scabrous shelters have been clumsily erected in the nooks and crannies, and cavities perhaps just large enough to hold a man, literally speaking, have been excavated in the rubble. They have claimed the city, and none would contest them for it. 
They stand perhaps two thirds the height of men, though some can be as tall as a man if it can maintain proper legs. They are lumpy and misshapen, comprised of gelatinous, carmine ooze-flesh that pulses and undulates obscenely. They can form any shape they wish, though imperfectly, but their favourite shape is that of man. Their chests are often curved when they ought be flat, and the Mire-Thing’s mastery of curves is also fragile at best. Fingers often run into each other, and joints can be found anywhere along their stumpy, graceless limbs.
The faces of the Mire-Things are perhaps the worst of all. Their eyes are hollow and wet, their mouths constantly mashing together, and their noses dribbling down their faces. They are like melons run over by a horse and then forced into the shape of a head, and they moan constantly. It is likely they do not even realise.
If disturbed, the Mire-Things will not attack at first, they will wait for others to arrive. Each Mire-Thing can feel through the thin film of muck they trail behind themselves, and they will often stick to the communal filth-film so that they form an almost rudimentary hive-awareness. The first Mire-Thing will wait, as still as can be, until from all around, others arrive, and the interloper is surrounded. Then they will strike. They will batter and smother. They will force themselves down their opponents throats, into their ears, their nostrils, their eye sockets.
When the melee is done, for better or worse, a few Mire-Things will emerge from hiding. They are very good at hiding, or more accurately, squeezing. The survivors will sculpt up the slopping remains of the destroyed and mashed into their old shapes again, as if nothing had happened. This can take some time, even to the poor standard they achieve. 
If they are victorious, however, they will carefully, and lovingly, skin their enemies.
Spotting a Mire-Thing in a skin-suit is something of a challenge from any sort of distance. Even close up, you would have to closely examine one to notice their slightly lumpen flesh and discoloured back-skin. They can even engage in conversation, slowly softening vocal chords suspended in the Mire-Thing’s jelly-neck, though their speech is slurred and gurgling, and if you’re close enough to talk to one, you will probably notice its vacant gaze and cock-eyed expressions. Long-term impersonation is not the goal, however. More than once, some decadent noble or soft-bellied pansy has been found suffocated, a stinking rotted skin discarded by their person. 
Perhaps the strangest tale told of the Mire-Things goes as a group of mercenary adventurers delved the streets of their city-lair, slew a great many of them, and escaped with great armfuls of riches. The following week, the town they returned to was obliterated, and the adventurers with it. Some few peasants who claim to have lived their once described a great, mishapen titan of mashed together ooze-men, gurgling and moaning heads sticking awkwardly out of arms and tiny helpless hands waving from the beast’ heaving chest as it rolled and smashed its way through the town.
These are of course, merely tales.

Spirits of the Wild and Untamed Places

Hungry Spirits
These poor and lonely creatures perpetuate the cycles of entropy and collapse, formed of dusts and bones if they ever do manifest. Mostly they lurk and stalk, wait for your guard to fall, and then sneak into your belly and your guts and wait for you to eat. Particularly powerful spirits can even drive their hosts insane with hunger and gnawing. Some like to incarnate as hollow and dusty wolves, or maybe a skeletal bear if they are powerful enough, slaking their endless and unslakable thirsts on the blood and fluids of men and beasts.

Wandering Spirits
These mischief makers are antisocially inclined, aimlessly travelling and never finding that one place they could lay their weary heads down and slumber for the growing of new leaves and growing of new shoots. They take their frustrations out on those around them, appearing to others and attempting to appear even to themselves as playful pranksters. Their creaking and withered hearts show otherwise.

Lonely Spirits
These are they that have nothing and no-one, cold and naked and shivering. They are known as Wendigo, and when they latch on to people, they drive their hosts gibbering and screaming with the weight of all the world pressing in and around them. They show most affinity for the sky, high above the earth they seek endlessly for companionship, driving themselves further and further away from the succor they might actually benefit from.

Tectonic Spirits
Slow and calculating, they know the courses of stones and the inevitable shifting of the world. They are the ones who start landslides and avalanches, placing each stone in place for the grand cycles of the world. They drag up islands and mountains, and build up great mesas and pillars of rock. Perhaps if you could propitiate them properly, they might find some small leeway in the grand designs of stone to shape the land for you, even for a little time. Of course, for them a little time is lifetimes of men.

Forest Spirits
Actually, there are a great number of types of Forest Spirits; dryads of the trees, Root-Sowing spirits, Creeping Moss Spirits, Spirits that pull down trees and Spirits that guide steams and brooks through the earth. They go about their various businesses as they are wont to do, but if disturbed or angered, the wrath of the forest is slow and steady, and utterly crushing. The Spirits of the forest have very particular codes and convictions, and it would do you well to pay heed to them.

Shepard Spirits
Like Forest Spirits, there are many types of Shepard Spirits. Each has a thing they guide and guard; storms, mists, tides, winds, lightning, and such. Like all spirits, they can be venerated and propitiated, and thus, you might change and affect their paths. Their temperaments are similar to what it is they guide; as with all things in the spirit world.

The world of the Spirits is based on belief, first and foremost. There are the beliefs of the world, of what it holds itself to be, that provide the framework, and the personal beliefs of the Spirit itself that fill in the Frame. Thus, though the fundamental aspects of each spirit are set, in practice each spirit can be very much different from each other based on how they perceive themselves, and indeed Spirits can and often do change from type to type based on what they perceive themselves as. Some say that there are no real fundamental differences between Angels and Demons and Dryads and Mountain Gods and Wendigo, they are all Spirits, which believe themselves different from each other. Their existence and differences are fueled by the belief that they are different in a vicious (or virtuous) cycle.

Where does that leave Humans and other such mortals? Not entirely at the whim of spirits thankfully. There are many ways for men to interact with the Spirit world using their own faith, and the powers of the World itself. Druids interact with the Spirits of natural things like stones and trees and water. Shamans can communicate with the Spirits of Thinking and Feeling Things. Clerics channel human faith towards the spirit world, often through the intermediary of Powerful Spirits Men like to call Gods. There is even speculation that Wizardry and Sorcery function merely as the extensions of intense, personal belief.

But that is a discussion for another day.

A Bundle of Shrines

1 - The Wandering Temple
Long ago, this shrine had its riches taken from it by silken hands swathed in shadow. Now the temple walks the lands, pulped thieves dripping from its halls and chambers, and its treasures reclaimed. It has yet to settle down.
1 - One thief yet escapes it. Perhaps it would offer gifts to those who aid it in its quest.
2 - It is on some great justice-pilgrimage, bringing ruin to all thieves.
3 - Now awoken, only an angel of its god could lure it back to slumber.
4 - Slowly, the stone crumbles and the vestments fade, one day it will collapse entirely.

2 - The Hanging Shrine
A great tree, carved and built upon into a great temple hung on the branches. It is infested with insects now. It is hung with the gnawed bones of old worshipers, red and raw in the wind.
1 - This was their design, to be reincarnated as true disciples of the Insect Goddess-Queen
2 - The invading insects slowly digest the old meat and bones, slowly growing their numbers.
3 - The Insect's Queen has been gulping down the temple's relics to absorb their divine strength.
4 - The Insect Plague was a righteous punishment sent by the slighted deity of the temple.

3 - The Desecrated Space
Corruption pours off this shrine. At its heart is a desecrated relic, pouring forth dark and evil sludge. Demons shift half-formed in the murk.
1 - The dark liquid is a viscous portal to the demon realm, one day they will pierce through it...
2 - The demons are fragile and soft, but will defend the relic until it is totally darkened, and they can walk the world fully formed.
3 - Once, a powerful diabolist was sacrificed on the altar, and it is their evil that corrupts to shrine.
4 - The slime is merely an illusion to keep potential thieves away from the relic.

4 - The View of the Heavens
This shrine bears observatories for watching the stars. With the right knowledge, the shrine could be recalibrated for astral and extra-planar navigation.
1 - Dark and yet shining celestial wanderers dwell in the shrine, having fallen down the observatories magnifications into our world.
2 - Madmen remain in the observatories, driven insane by the glories they have witness with their delicate, mortal eyes.
3 - To calibrate the delicate mechanisms and enchantments, first you must consort with the Silvered Calibration golem, whose programming has not fared well over the uncounted years.
4 - A group of Star-Worshipers have moved into their new sacred space, close to their gods as they are.

This shrine is merely an altar, a bowl, and a knife. The bowl and knife are stained a copper red.
1 - Perform the crimson rites, give of yourself til nothing remains, and be uncreated as you give of and give of and give of and give of and give of.
2 - There is blood in the bowl. Drink, let it course down your throat, over your lips, flow off you jaw and splash down your chest to the floor and keep drinking until you are bloated and drowning in it.
3 - Behind the altar is an empty void of nothing. It beckons to you. Do not look at it, pretend it isn't there. Do not give it notice, give it nothing. It had all it was taken from it, and it was right and just.
4 - The old dry spirits of those slain here demand justice, they wish you to take the bowl in your hands and break it on your knee, rebuke the blade and cast it into the river, strike the altar with your staff and cast it down into the dirt.

6 - The Spire of the Sun
A shrine to a long lost sun-god. A tall tower covered in prisms upon which a great diamond rests.
1 - Gargoyle-men with glinting ruby feathers roost in the nooks, and will defend their god's home from thieves and blasphemers.
2 - The whole pinnacle is one long needle of sandstone, it crumbles slowly in the wind and rain.
3 - The light reflected is blinding, and thus hides the secret chambers within, where dwells the true treasures...
4 - The light forms an insubstantial prison, perfectly forged to contain a great evil within the spire. The jewel that crowns it all is the final key to the jail.

7 - The Pit of Smoke
An inverse-Ziggurat pit shrine. At its nadir is a vent spewing noisome gases. An old, old World-Spirit dwells within.
1 - The World-Spirit is corrupted, instead of flame, out spews smoke. It will not last long, to the doom of all near it.
2 - The World-Spirit is poisoned, and its stone is slowly rotting away into black glass-dust.
3 - The World-Spirit cannot abide the passing by of man, leave now and you may yet keep your lives.
4 - Whisper into the vents, if you can withstand the fumes, and the World-Spirit will whisper back.

8 - The Tomb of the Mighty
A mausoleum structure, within lies a dead god and its treasures and relics. Even in death it is more than capable of defending itself.
1 - The many statues of the Old God at the zenith of its Glory will step down from the daises ready to strike down the defilers.
2 - The Divine Corpse will rise from its grave in the fullness of time to crush the skulls of the family of those it seeks retribution against.
3 - The Deity will curse the words of those who defile its tomb; those who speak the names of the grave-disturbers will be stuck down by disease and pestilence.
4 - The God instantly turns the intruders into sentient undead. It has killed them, that's good enough. The fact they are still self-actualising and locomoting is just a little wrinkle.

9 - It is inscribed: AND THIS IS EDEN
A walled-garden, tended by an ancient spirit-god. It is be-decked in finery, and offers knowledge to those who eat the deadly fruits of the grove.
1 - Each fruit contains a Word Of God, the (somewhat irresponsible) deity will let you take it even, should you survive the terrible poisons of the fruit (which it is sure you won't).
2 - The fruits are themselves alive, and the legions of plant-beasts are very capable of looking after themselves thank you very much.
3 - The Knowledge that the fruits contain is the knowledge of the Spirit-God. As each fruit is eaten, it diminishes a little more, until finally it will waste away completely. It desperately desires this.
4 - The Poison of the fruit is more insidious than you might think. It is the poison of Blasphemy.

10 - From where Floweth the Tears of Gods for the Plight of Men
An elaborate water-feature, three stories high. Water-Elementals guard the highest levels, whose waters have healing properties.
1 - The water flows from a bound and chained Spirit-God of Water. It desperate hates humans, but perhaps would soften for those that freed it.
2 - The water is cursed, those who bathe in it inflict their wounds on those who tend the source of the waters, deep below the earth. They do not understand why.
3 - The water is the blood of a dead Spirit-God, those who bathe in it are healed, but also slowly become possessed by the old God.
4 - The Elementals are in fact, angered Nymphs, if some sort of quest is done for them, they would retake their gentler forms and perhaps even allow you to bathe with them.

11 - The Warning-Stone
A tower carved in an ancient and forgotten prophecy.
1 - It warns of the eventual rise of the sunken city of which it is the uttermost peak.
2 - It points to some far off place, a shining city of golden domes and silvered pagodas, where the race of "Beautiful People" dwell who will one day return to conquer all the world.
3 - It describes how you will know the signs of the sickness that will ravage all the lands clean.
4 - It forewarns of the return of the grand Elk, whose mountain-hooves will trample cities into dust and return the wild to the rule of the world.

12 - The Place of Death
An amphitheater, for the witnessing of executions. The angry spirits of the dead still haunt the browned blood-stains. Doubtless the tool of execution remains here too...
1 - A great Cleaver-Sword remains embedded in a yellow-stone altar deep beneath, the resonance of death it has collected calling undead to it.
2 - A mighty axe seems to drag a pool of semi-congealed blood behind it by some invisible force. A ghost inhabits it, bound to serve the wielder of the axe.
3 - The Gladiator-Golem that ritually dueled prisoners to death stands old and rusting, endlessly fending off the vengeful ghosts that demand rest that it cannot give. Even with its destruction, they would find no peace, only endlessly undirected anger.
4 - Much of the blood used to be collected a the pit in the centre of the stage, which the prisoner was hung above. Now the blood is host to a demon of muddied thoughts and unsure purpose.

13 - Lost to Darkness
A metal demon with a burning swords guards this charred and scorched shrine. Almost nothing remains.
1 - It guards the way down to the unbreachable (for demons at least) vaults of the Shrine, to ensure that no agents of the old god can ever retrieve the relics sequestered within.
2 - The demon was left behind when the shrine was destroyed long ago. It has no purpose now, and it waits, ever-hopeful for a rescue that will never come.
3 - The demon is trapped by a final ward placed by fleeing priests, it is forever a prisoner of the Shrine it destroyed.
4 - The demon is in fact an esoteric Angel, keeping all from claiming the flaming rites of a rival deity.

14 - Shrine of Shell and Slime
An almighty shell is carved into an abbey. The floors run smooth with the fluids of its snail-congregation.
1 - The Snail-men manufacture mire-pearls for their molluscan goddess-queen from the skulls of men they ambush and kill.
2 - They grow their numbers over the years, hoping one day to raise their voices in a great chorus to lure their lost god back out of the ocean it is lost in.
3 - They tend the Crab-Leviathan that has crawled deep with the extra-dimensional depths of the shell, paving the way for its eventual return.
4 - Sacrifices are kept fresh in the slime that coats some chambers inches thick. Eventually they will be offered to the Swarm-Deity the priesthood venerate here.

15 - The Unmanned Shrine
This ancient temple is well maintained by its servitor-golems. No access to the high-priests chambers is tolerated.
1 - The Golems are old and weary now, and ask for either succour from the aching and creaking of their joints, or a release from their aeons old service.
2 - Deep within, lie the chambers of the Golem-God, the built Deity. It is not the time for it to reveal itself yet.
3 - The High-Priest is long since dead, they sacrificed their fluids to the Clock-work contraption that maintains the Shrine's power. The fluid levels are running low.
4 - The High-Priest is sequestered away inside, planning for the ritual that will end mortal-life as we know it and replace it with an age of manufactured-men, incapable of not praising the "correct" god.

16 - The Quiet Place of Ancestors
This ancient ring of stones surrounds a burial mound. A spear is dug into its peak. It is deathly quiet.
1 - Here, you may propitiate the spirits of the Ancient Dead. Observe the proper rituals and formalities, and they may offer their aid for a worthy cause.
2 - The Dead treasure their sacred rest, and will harass those who come by this way. The dead have never rested well here, and they treasure this small bit of quiet immensely.
3 - This place is within the liminal boundries of the spirit world, druids often come by this way on vision-quests and initiation rites. The spirits will surely be wary or maybe curious about you, since you are so different from those they usually see.
4 - The Dead here are not the dead of men. Their alien perspectives, further muddied by the murk of death lead them to pull some very strange stunts on visitors.

17 - Meat and Bone are our Offerings
An almighty ribcage hung with skins shelters a decrepit priest with and antlered cane and a meaty altar.
1 - The priest will expect you to make an offering of yourself on the altar, not deadly, but substantial. If you do, you will be potently blessed.
2 - Here, you can propitiate the Spirits of the Animal Herds and Packs, learn what they have seen, the best paths, safe spaces and worthy truce offerings.
3 - It is the grave-shrine to a slain Leviathan-Divinity. The offerings offered here ensure it will not return to life in wrath.
4 - Here, you may make sacrifices of the frailties of your flesh. You will become somewhat less than you were, but the strength you gain will be well commensurate.

18 - "Why are you here? This is not for you."
This canopied shrine is pristine. The torches still burn. The sacrifice is still warm. The blood is still fresh.
1 - The Cult that meet here will not be pleased to see witnesses to their unspeakable rites...
2 - You were just a little too late, if you hurry you may yet catch them, or escape before they return...
3 - The shrine is trapped in time, an offering perpetually offered, ensuring that the Patron will never cease to be satiated. Disturb it at all, and the enchantment will break, and the Patron will arrive in wrath for its recompense...
4 - The rite is done, and the Cultists are now no longer as lowly as humans...

19 - A Message Well-sent
This shrine has been expertly defiled. At its heart is a gruesome entrail-sigil. It calls the unwholesome.
1 - It is a sigil-circle to allow entrance and egress to the lower hells. It opens when fresh blood wets the sigil. Eventually, it will waste away.
2 - The sigil disrupts the touch of the divine, allowing the Great Work beneath to continue unwatched by Gods.
3 - It is a declaration of war, a gesture that cannot be ignored, or misinterpreted.
4 - It is a sign to some outer-being, a lure to guide some awful fate upon the world. It must be destroyed for the good of all before that which it was made to guide arrives.

20 - Death Knell of the Faithful
A grand Temple, now an overgrown and hollow shell. Soldiers died here once, long ago. Now a terrible beast dwells here among the bones and rusting weapons.
1 - The Beast is a Familiar-Spirit of the God of the Shrine, sent to ensure the eternal rest of the dead and to guard the holiness of the Shrine.
2 - The Creature once feasted on the carrion, but now it is all gone, and its hunger continues to grow.
3 - The Monster was one held in a cage below the shrine to stop it preying on the countryside. Hopefully it is the only one to have escaped...
4 - The Beast is in fact a feral druid, attempting to slowly re-incorporate the shrine back into nature. It must contend with followers of the old god of the shrine.

Recent Stuff

Cafe Prost and the Little Red Notebook

The Jackalope is here, and requires a SACRIFICE. Anne requested the following gift: The Coffee House - Cafe Prost! It is well known i...

This the gud stuph right hear