1156) A city where all the people though dead do not rot and are still standing upright
1157) A town where all the people seem to be made of water
This ones inspired by your profile pic Garandene.
1158) Twisted Amalgams of several animals roam the Mournland. You can't tell where one animal begins and the others start. They are pathetic looking but still dangerous, their tortured minds reflecting their tortured forms. If you'd want to actually have PC's fight these creatures, I'd say use Pseudonatural Chimera, just to cover the weirdness and the mixture of animals into one body. Maybe even the multiheaded template.
Wow! This is neat! My group is starting Eberron soon and my Dungeon Master says that we will be adventuring in the Mournland quite a bit. I'll make sure to show them this!
I haven't read the whole of the thread (though in time I will). Still I'll try my hand at a contribution.
1159) A miles long fence, only a few inches high circles in on itself. Inside lies a graveyard with untold numbers of miniature headstones over mini graves. A massive cadaver collector seems to be digging more graves and then placing objects inside. If approached it speaks to the party (awakened & initial attitude of friendly) and can be seen to be holding a large number of headstones and wooden, featureless dolls. When the dolls are placed inside the graves they take on the features of the person whose name is on the headstone. The gravedigger somberly, in the tones of an undertaker, explains that he knows the name of every person who died in The Mourning and is building this cemetary as a monument to them. He willingly tells the PCs if any named individual died at that time (he does not know if the person is alive or dead unless killed in that singular event). He is willing, with a DC 20 diplomacy check, to dig up and lend out dolls from the graves to family of the deceased (and family only). The dolls can be activated with a command word to point the direction of the corpse they resemble. The caretaker expects the dolls to be returned when the PCs are finished and is able to locate them (the dolls not the PCs) at will.
1160) The party after braving many of the horrors of the mournland they pass through a mist once they pass it they must make a will save (I suggest high DC) if they failed they see their love ones being raped, beaten, tortured, etc. their home town being destroyed looking for who could of done these horrible things they find that the person standing their is them but more sinister looking. (I tried this is with some of my friends who played in my campaign they were freaked out by the experience)
1161) A army of warforged with odd body parts (like chains for hands, swords for legs etc.) they are seeking more material from which to make more of their unique kind.
1162) A field of blood red stones that constantly emit voices of those lost in the mourning
1163) A field of dead bodies as well as ruin Warforged when anything alive passes through the dead and warforged grab on to them their heads (if they have any) mutter "help me", "free me", "why did I have to die" etc. and won't let go if a cleric tries to turn them their skin, blood, etc. disappears and their bones fly forming a giant with the warforged making it's "skin" it then says "Join us" over and over as it rentlessly attacks the party through the numerous warforged heads it has
That's a god one Terjon, very creative, might have to swipe that one for my campaign.
1164) Whenever someone opens a door in a house, builing, castle, etc, other than the front door, that leads outside, they are instead greeting not by the outdoors, but either by a large mouth that takes up the whole doorway or a large orange and unblinking eye that also fills the whole doorway.
I know. I'm just an arrogant SOB.
1165) A large circular stone building. Inside you find a single room filled with seeing stones, crystal balls, pools of water, mirrors, etc. An aged man stumbles from one scrying device to the next, his eyes blinded by a steady stream of tears as he mutters to himself "There must have been a better option. The mourning could not possibly have been the best."
1166) The food! Because honestly, how could it be good - maybe that shank of lamb now want to "shank" someone in return...
1167) The PCs crest a hill to find the vally below is filled with several score of living spells. The seething arcane energy is warping and tearing the landscape further and further as they swirl along in torrent of eldritch might. Could it be that they have gathered to just dance and covort with others of their kind, or is there more too it than that? Perhaps the spells are mating or melding together to form a new sentient being made up of nothing more than hundreds or thousands of spells with an appitite for killing....
Actually, all of the ones I read are good. Lets see.
1168). A grave is found in the Mournlands. Apparently, it's weaping blood and grass refuses to grow upon it. Plants around it grow into unnatural, horrifying shapes. They are also blood red, as if they take on the color of the weeping blood. The willows around the grave keep people away from it by entangling anyone who goes near the grave and throwing them with great strength. Anyone who looks at the grave notices it has the name of a prominent Wizard of Cyre.
1169). Hail falls to the ground and burns as fire (one of the Ten Plagues of Egypt).
1170). Two skeletons are dancing in a danse macabre. They will invite anyone to dance with them. As a PC dances with them, she or he will fade away; growing transparent.
1171). The PCs find a city in perfect condition. In one of the buildings, a mansion, they find a lone 10 year old girl who wants someone to play with. However, other parts of the mansion is filled with apparitions and phantoms. Anyone who keeps the girl company and plays with her at length will find that she is happy and then she disappears. The mansion returns to it's condemned state. (From Tenchi Universe).
1172) Incorporeal undead that deal positive energy instead o negative energy. Depending on the type of undead, they either give you a temporary level boost or temporary hit points. There is a more deadly effect to this though. Once your level reaches twice its original number, or once your hit points reach twice their original number, your body detonates in an explosion of positive energy, which the undead feed off of. So beware friendly spirits!
1173) Swarms of food that eat people!
1174) Clothing that seeks out living creatures to strangle the life out of.
1175) Patches of sentient ground that hate to be tred on, and attack/throw off those that walk on them.
1176) Deadly fields of crops. Fields of corn with stiff, razor edged leaves and exploding ears that fire of kernals doing 3d4 bludgeoning damage. Rows of cabbage and/or lettuce that explode upon touch. Fields of wheat/grain that sting like nettles and probably hide creatures resistant to the stinging.And.....ATTACK OF THE KILLER TOMOATOES!
1177) A disembodied monstrous jaw that swallows everything. OM NOM NOM NOM NOM!!!
Sorry if these have been done, but I'm not going to read over 1000 posts to make sure.
1178. The PCs find an area surrounded in the same mists that cover the Mournland. Trying to enter either sends the PC instantly out the other side as if there was no space between (especially bad if it's a rather large area and one PC enters while there are enemies on the other side).
1179. As 1178, except the PCs find a town perfectly preserved. No one seems to remember the War, The Day of Mourning, or anything more recent than a year or two before the War started (or think the War is still going on). They don't even see the mist surrounding the town. Anyone killed in the town is perfectly fine the next day, reliving the same day over (if the PCs stay somewhere overnight, they may end up scaring the owner or perhaps awaken on the street outside the town). This may affect the PCs (Can leave normally, but will be in the town when they next wake up unless they make a save).
1180. Bodies raining from the sky with no sign of how is always fun.
1181. Other characters appear to be deaf to the PC (if they talk, no one will look or even appear to hear anything). They can hear normally, and everyone else can hear them, but won't appear to.
1182. A changeling is stuck in whatever form he or she was in last or when they try and change, the form refuses to be what they try to become.
1183: A small town seems to have survived the Mourning intact. The citizens believe that their small town has somehow survived the end of the world. (if you've seen Silent Hill you know where this is going. But please, forget about the lame bike cop who can't act.) They believe that the gods died saving them and that they must lead righteous lives to keep the mists from consuming the town entirely. Their views of right and wrong have become somewhat twisted over the years and their priest may have made contact with a "new god" who is in fact older than the world. . . (and may have an octopus for a head)
1184: A list of 1001 things that, in fact, lists one thousand one hundred and eighty four.
I would like a list of these.
1184: A perfectly healthy looking lettuce patch(the gorund still looks like wasteland), but hidden under the green leafy exterior are body parts growing. Like teeth, blood, eyes, heads, fingers, etc.
An ordianary person who eats the lettuce(either because they don't notice the disgusting body pieces or extremely desperate) has something really horrible happen to their body. Maybe when they go to sleep, body parts begin to grow from the adventurer until their entire left side splits of as a second "you"(like the movie Army of Dead). Except it might not have your equipment just simply your clothing(not armor).
The second you can be of many things, maybe an equal opposite, a child you, a dumb you, a "flamboyant" you, a corpse you, or maybe an inert body, etc.
Anyway you slice it, it is very strange waking up next to a naked "you". It may even confuse the other adventurers.
1185:Simply put... ordinary "Objects". Ever heard of the lost room, An extraordinarily useful little hook. Imagine the bus ticket(Lightning Rail Ticket) that can transport a person 10ft. above a Lightning Rail Station platform in Passage. one of the hundreds of "Objects". the Fountain pen, the Glass Eye, the Charcoal Pencil, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Objects_from_The_Lost_Room
These are all very able to be put into the Mournlands as useful little things, but also maybe create new cults, collectors that worship the objects because they are set apart from all of the mournlands, because they have new effects when used together.
1186) Always at the corner of ones vision, are the incorporeal faces of newborn babies. The faces appear in groups and appear and disappear at random. The PC's are haunted by the echo-y cries of babies.
1187) The PC's wake up to find that their arms and legs have switched positions, giving new meaning to walking on your hands.
1188) One of the PC's developes cannabalistic urges. During a fight, when one of his/her allies are injured by a slashing/piercing attack, the PC must make at Will save or attack that ally, trying to gnaw off a limb or drink the blood from the wound.
1189) The party comes across a functioning hostel in one of the cities of Old Cyre. By all magical means, the place is totally normal, and inside are the PC's friends and family. They state that this place is a prime area for just such a business, and refuse to listen the PC's protests about the Mournland. Keep in mind that to all magical means these really are the PC's friends and family. At night, everyone sits down to a fantastic meal of meat pies, roasts, steaks and other foods. The friends and families insist that the PC's stay the night, so that they can spend more time together in the morning.
The next morning, the Pc's wake up to a horrible smell of decay and rot. Outside their rooms, the halls are awash in dry blood and bits of gore. Downstairs, where they had eaten last night are the gutted and flensed bodies of their friends and familes. The flesh has been mostly stripped from their bones, and their blood is everywhere. Next to them are pots and pans, plates and cups, filled with rotting meat. A message, scrawled in blood on the open dining room floor states: " Hope you enjoyed the meal!"
1190) You see a man, pierced through by dozens of weapons and covered in open wounds, kneeling on the road before you, sobbing uncontrollably, his face dowturned towards the ground. His hands seem to cover his face and blood pours from between them. As you approach you see that he actually has no hands and the blood pours from the stumps at the ends of his arms. From closer still you can see that his eyes have been gouged out and his ears removed. His teeth are a shattered wreck and when he wails you can see that his tongue has been removed. (a DC 15 knowledge history check reveals the man to be Galifar.)
That sounds insanely cool.
I might that use that in another campaign
Is it me, or do some of these seem like the thread should be named to 1001 Xoriat Horrors
1192: The PCs think they see another pile of bodies (not uncommon in the Mournland), although it's much too far to go around, going on for miles, and so they have to walk through it. Once they reach it, they realize they aren't bodies, or aren't all bodies, they're flesh. Faces look up at them, mouths might even moun in pain occasionally, and the flesh pulses as if it had a heartbeat. If the PCs fall they stand up covered in blood, only to realize they punctured the skin.
If you want a conclusion, the PCs find a living Stone to Flesh spell in the area. If you want to make it dangerous, it could also have Flesh to Stone.
1193. In a ruined town, complete with its horde of shambling zombies, a girl of about age ten plays cat's cradle with a piece of string. Each time she rearranges the string, the zombies of the town move to adopt a new formation that matches the string's pattern.
1194) During the night, all the characters fall into a deep dreamless sleep, even the elves and the warforged. When they awake, in place of your warforged companion, is a very muscular(think bodybuilder), and quite naked man/woman. See how your warforged player freaks when you tell him that his forged is now a fleshy!:D
1195) As the PC's a walking along, call for spot/listen checks. Success allows them to see a dark fissure splitting the ground, heading straight for them. When the fissure gets closer, they see it discharges small electrical bolts and a pale blue light. As the fissure rushes past, they hear the sound of a lightning rail pass by and feel the wind gust past.
1196: The PCs randomly merge with one of their magic items, appearing as if the item had grown out of their flesh. This merging only lasts for a few minutes, and happens completely randomly.
1197: Each PC gets struck by a terrible curse for as long as they remain in the Mournland. One PC turns wood as soft as warm wax for as long as he touches it. Another PC makes water spoil and milk turn sour instantly whenever he speaks. Yet another PC makes the skin of the person he's currently looking at visually disappear.
1198.you find jesus!(think how creepy he would be to eberronions)
1199.coming throgh the mist you find a portal to xanth!(maybe not very creepy but you must admit it would be a tad on the weird side)
1200.in a LARGE village/town you find a bunch of people who claim to have come from a different prime material world & have devices/powers to prove it!
1201) The clouds over the Mournland take the forms of soldiers brutally slaying their foes, people committing grizzly murders, and people dying horrible deaths.
And I make it 1202.
1202: The PCs find one (or more) Carrion Crabs covered with only copies of their own bodies (or parts of their own bodies as many are slashed, ripped, or pierced with various weapons).
Been finding myself on these forums as an anonymous lurker for a while now, but as I'm just about to launch my own Eberron game - an expedition into the Mournlands to try to find out what the hell actually happened on the day of the Mourning - I thought it was about time to air some of my ideas.
Iv read the first 10 pages or so and havnt seen anything like this yet, but apologies if something similar is lurking deeper within the thread.
1203) While inside the Mournlands, a different lunar cycle is visible than on the rest of the continent: indeed, completely different moons shine brightly, piercing through the thick mists. At regular intervals, one moon will fade away while another brightens into existance, so that usually only one moon is visible at a time, and a different moon present roughly every 24 hours.
Each moon is of a different colour. While any given moon is in the sky, magic and psionics are effecting accordingly: Perhaps a black moon prevents any spells with the "light" descriptor from functioning, whilest simultaneously applying "extend" to spells with the "darkness" descriptor for free, or increasing the caster level of necromancy spells by 1: the exact details are left to the GM.
If you wanted to shake things up even further, two moons may be present at once for an hour or so during "twilight" periods. The cycle of various moons could be fixed, or to confuse players further each new day the moon "active" could be rolled randomly.
EDIT: fixed numbering, sorry guys
Just dropping in briefly to remind you to check your math...
1198...1199... ...2000?? What happened to 1200?
Oh ye Math Gods have forsaken me again! Fixed my numbering, but I blame abraham So could Mystrich, Pyrosorc and Abraham fix their numberings please?
Mytsrich yours should be 1202 and Pyrosorc should be 1203!
1204) The PCs slowly go blind over the course of a day, and by the time they have to set up camp, everyone is blind. No magic can aid them, and blindsense and blindsight cease working as well for those characters that have those abilities. It doesn't take tremorsense or scent to detect the running that comes towards them, carrying with it scents of blood and gore, fresh and mixed with bile. People cry, scream and and eventually a great crowd is thundering around them, unseen, jostling them, knocking over tents and trampling through cooking fires. All the while people are calling out in a variety of languages, mostly Common, for relatives, for the Host to save them, for help. Eventually it all fades away and a pitterpatter of feet can be heard, pitiful little voices crying out for their parents, older siblings, their friends...and as they get close enough to the PCs, they shout for the blind people to help them, and cry and tug at their adventuring clothes and armour, wrap themselves around their legs and heave with sobs.
The PCs, if they are kind, might comfort them, fumble around for blankets and set the tents back up, rekindle the cooking fire and get some food in them, those with Heal might try and tend to wounds with penalties. The children, frightened, will want to sleep with their saviours. In the morning, their sight is restored, but their sense of smell is what wakes them. They have had their arms protectively around little child corpses, curled up in the nooks of the PCs' bodies, looking to have been rotting for anywhere from a week to a month.
If the PCs are cruel, or fearful, and attack the children, assuming them yet another Mournland trick or danger, the children fall easily, and some run away from the crazed blind monsters. In the morning, they are awoken by slaymates in numbers equal to their level +5 in ECL, attempting to do unto them what they would do unto frightened children.
Alright, you people scare me. Just read page 5, and I don't think I'm going to be sleeping tonight. I was especially frightened by semi-alternate dream world one. That has got to be some of the scariest stuff I've ever read. Doesn't help that I scare easily, but that stuff definitely takes the cake.
Now, for a couple of my own submissions. If there's been any repetition, I do sincerely apologize to the original authors.
1205. During their time in the Mournland, the PC's stumble upon a ruined village. There have been signs of a struggle, and numerous footprints heading along the road and random placement of military equipment suggests that the inhabitants were fleeing from an invading army. As they make their way along the road, the PC's can barely see what appears to be a young girl of about 10 or so dressed in white. She is twirling and dancing about, singing softly to herself, though the PC's can hear her as if they were standing next to her. They can make out her beckoning them onwards, giggling in childlike glee. Whether the PC's follow her or not, she always appears to remain at the same distance, no matter at what speed they pursue her. If anything, the character' movements feel sluggish, hindering all attempts at swift movement.
After a time, whether it be a minute or a day, DM's choice, the girl disappears into the distance and the characters hear a shrill scream that sounds like it came from her. As they race towards the sound, they come across what appears to be a Cyran fortress. In front of the fortress, stretching as far as the eye can see, are wooden spikes.
Impaled upon these spikes are what appears to be the inhabitants of the town. Every single one of them is facing towards the castle. The only exception to this is the girl that appeared in the mists earlier, who stares blankly in the direction of the PC's, the tip of a spike protruding through her chest.
As the character's stare beyond the spikes, towards the castle, the ground is littered with bodies. If the PC's make their way through the area between the spikes and the castle, they notice that there is not a single soldier, Cyran or not, among them. The victims appear to be mainly women and children, various looks of terror plastered across their lifeless faces. Upon closer inspection, the PC's notice that all of the wounds are from arrows or crossbow bolts. Oddly, all the bolts and arrows seemed to have been fired from the castle, with many of the victims having fallen with numerous shafts protruding from their chests rather than their backs. It appears the inhabitants of the town who made it past the spikes were killed by their would-be saviours.
As the PC's make their way towards the gate, they hear the sounds of weeping. As they come upon the entrance, they discover the source. Kneeling in front of the gate is a soldier in Cyran colours, in his arms, a woman bearing resemblance to the girl the PC's saw previously, dressed in the same white dress. Her dress is stained in blood from a sword-wound on her chest. The soldier and the woman each have matching gold rings. The soldier has his head bowed over that of his wife, and weeping silently emanates from him. A bloodstained sword lies on the ground an arms-reach away.
Around them are the bodies of 9 other Cyran soldiers and countless inhabitants. Already, it appears that there was more than one village involved in the massacre. The dead soldiers appear to have been simply overwhelmed by the unarmed civilians, ripped apart by bear hands, or killed by their own stolen weapons.
The gate itself is covered with scratch marks, and bloodstains in the dirt leading to piled-up bodies suggests that the gate was forced open to allow for the soldiers to exit. Scattered around the gate is signs of absolute bloodshed and massacre, the soldiers having killed their own countrymen. Above the gate a tattered Cyran flag waves morosely in a non-existent breeze.
As the PC’s approach the soldier, he glances up at them, his tear-stained eyes staring directly into theirs. “We killed them, we killed all of them,” he croaks, before he picks up the sword and thrusts it into his own chest.
As he does so, the sounds of screaming and cries for help rise up from the battlefield, starting from a faint whisper, rising to a deafening crescendo. From the castle, the PC’s hear the sound of a sergeant ordering the soldiers to fire upon the civilians, with the soldiers begging not to. After a heated argument and the sergeant pulling rank upon his soldiers, the PC’s begin to hear the thudding of crossbow bolts and the screams of the wounded. This is soon joined by what appears to be the laughing of a god from the heavens, which rises to a volume that deafens the PC’s, before being suddenly silenced.
As the PC’s glance around, they notice the Cyran flag from the gate slowly floating away, whipped along by a non-existent wind.
(PS: If you wanted to be really evil, you could have the little girl from the beginning appear suddenly in random instances, such as in the streets of Sharn, warning of danger or something.)
I corrected my numbers
1206.you come across a stable portal to non-magical version of eberron!
I hope nobdy post something like this.
1207 A madman attacks the party without warning and fight to the death. Nailed to his skull, he wear a mask made with the face of somebody who looked like someone in the party. If they remove the mask, they will see that the madman look like a carbon copy of another member of the party, only slightly older. He also have the same body marks, scars or tatoo that the character.
1208: Passing through a empty town the party hears a baby crying. When they investigate they find an infant lying in the lap of a very dead lady. The infant is a ghoul that has been eating it's mother for the last few years. It'll never develop beyond it's size or intelligence, it's really just a baby that wants comfort from its mother. It's not a threat and never will be to an experienced party, but leaving it "alive" seems as wrong as killing it.
A couple cloud ones.
1209) While moving toward their destination in the Mournland, an enormous hand forms out of the clouds, high up in the sky. It waves frantically at them, trying to get their attention. If the PC's take notice, it very forcefully motions for them to halt, as if warning them to go no further. If the PC's ignore it, it makes an obscene gesture and dissipates. They then here a whisper on the wind, " It's your funeral."
1210) The hand forms as above, but only if the PC's become extremely lost while trying to leave the Mournlands. It points in a direction, but will the PC's follow it? It could be helpful, it could be a ruse, seeking only to get them more lost, or it could be leading them into a trap.
1211.you find one day that ALL of your magical items have been replaced with there non-magical equilivents & that you are selected by the dieties(they talk to eberron natives for the first time ever!) to wipe out all the evil aberation you can find in the mornlands for a ten-day & night period!
1212: Entering a town the PCs find what at first appears to be people who have survived the Mourning. Men are carrying fire wood and women are apperantly washing cloths and sweeping out the houses. But no one responds to anything the party does, they wont speak to them and can barely be bothered to move out of their way. Further investigation (Heal check 15) reveals that no one is breathing and that their eyes are unfocused.
Everyone seems to just be going about the motions of whatever they were doing when the Morning hit. If the PCs investigate the church they find a bone white ooze creeping around and rolling over other dead bodies, and some of those bodies get up and head into town where they start going about their business. The ooze is a living Animate Dead.
Every round of combat there is a 50% chance that one of the town zombies joins the fight. Some whispering "save us" or "help god" even as they start to overwhelm the party.
When the ooze is killed the town goes mad. There are suddenly 100 brain hungry zombies milling around town. Hopefully the players will barricade them selfs in the church and you can have a Night of the Livening Dead type encounter. 24 hours after the ooze died the zombies wander off into the woods... maybe to look for their long lost friends or family.
Not sure if this counts since it starts outside the Mourland, but:
1213. Receiving an unsigned letter, asking for help, and telling the PCs to go to the closest Lightening Rail station, they are told that they have a private Lightening Rail bringing them to *Insert destination*, although once boarded, withing hours, the PCs realize they are not headed the right way, as they speed through the Mournland's grey mist on the remains of the tracks to Cyre.
1214.You see a series of benevolent living spells including the following-cloviars closet,light & presdisitation(I think that's how you spell it)
1215.you find a barral of monkeys that when you look inside you must make a will OR a fort. roll(witchever is lower!)or turn into a monkey and have a uncontrolable urge to climb into the barral with the other monkeys!if you make the roll you may comand the monkeys to do ONE thing of your choice that the monkeys can physically do,then they turn back into the people they once were(optionaly the creator of the barrel might be among the monkeys)
Time to ratchet this great thread back up into the limelight again.
1216. The players come across a small town on the lightning rail. The town is worn out and run down. Sand has blown into town and formed low rolling dunes in the streets. Trees and bushes are growing in the streets, and even inside the buildings. Everywhere here looks like this is a ghost town. Nobody has lived here for at least a year, maybe more. Everyhere is trashy and wind burned. bleached a dull grey by the sun. Everywhere except the lightning rail station.
The station is clean and shiny, it looks new. Not a hint of dirt or debris like in the rest of town. When the party goes to check it out, they'll find the station master waiting in the cage. He'll sell them tickets to any destination in Khorvaire, and says with the utmost confidence the train will arrive around two P.M. in the early afternoon. Sense motive and detect lie will reveal nothing out of the ordinary. He's telling the truth.
Nothing interesting will happen while the players wait for the train. Just a couple minutes before 2 the players will hear the whistle as the train approaches town, They'll also notice Spot DC15, Listen DC 10 a great sand storm approaching with a huge wall of sand blowing in from the direction the train is coming from.
The station master will rush out and tell the players to quickly get inside, and get ready. If the players listen, they will be absolutely safe in the pristine train station. If the players ignore the station master, they be putting themselves at the mercy of the horrors that await.
The sand storm will reach the town about 2 minutes ahead of the train, and it features the Flaywind from Sandstorm. If the players don't seek cover, they'll likely die before the train even arrives, and when the train finally arrives, the winds will die down and dissipate nearly as quickly as the blasted the town. In the quiet of the town, with only the crackling of the stopped lightning rail train, with the dust settling, the players will bear witness to a horrifying scene. With unearthly moans and terrifying shrieks and screams;
2d6 Dread Wraiths, and 10d6 Wraiths will be observed getting off the train. They are the shadows of the former Cyrans that were riding the train on the day of the Mourning. They will get off the train, and search every single building for any living occupants. Their goal is to drain the life of any of the living, and float the bodies of the newly dead back to the train suspended by the howling winds. Anyone slain by a wraith will themselves becomes shades, and join the undead in this daily quest.
If the players can make the train station alive, the stationmaster will let them in. While the players are busy, he'll be barricading all the windows, and at the last, will go to barricade the door. There a wraith will blow in the door in with forceful winds shattering it, and they will snatch him. As soon as the wraiths have him and drag him away screaming into the awaiting train, they will all depart. Note that aside from the stationmaster, the wraiths will not harm anyone waiting in the train station when the train arrives. The train will then slowly depart, picking up speed. The only sound to be heard from the train of death as it departs is the crackling of the lightning rail.
This gruesome spectacle plays itself out every day. Any tickets the characters buy from this ghost station, will be honored, or can be refunded anywhere outside of the Mournlands, at any House Orien lightning rail station or office.
Don't quite know how this ^%$#^%$ up, so I double-posted, so here's one more. At least I can edit the double-post. Really need to be able to delete any doubles, oh, well.
1217. The players come upon a small town with a fountain in the square. The town is quite deserted, except that when the players look into the fountain, they can then she shadows moving around town for about ten minutes. The shadows are completely unresponsive to the players and just go about their business. Like they did on the last day of the mourning.
$th Edition. That would be the most horrid thing in the entire setting.
1219.you see clasic movie monsters acting monstroussly!
1220.you see barney!(scary for adults maybe?)
1221.you see a zombie barney!
1222: A PC finds a severed limb... Identical to his own still-attached limb.
1223: The party encounters a thing.
1224: Shadows reach up and throttle their owners--or appear to be killing themselves... (maybe no mechanical effect...)
1223: To their joy, shortly after drinking from a well, that is clean by any way they can measure it, the party finds that healing (magical and normal) is working for them! With this edge they easily subdue and capture the "badguys" and return to civilization. However it doesn't take long to discover that they can no longer heal or be healed outside of the Mournlands!
Possible ways to fix this might be: return the captives to the Mournland, poison that well and drink from it again (and get out of the Mournland while suffering from the poison), eat the food left on a table in an inn in that town, die and get resurrected, a cleric can make a Turning attempt on them and they'll be cured if the result is "destroyed".
1224: The party encounter a farm animal grazing in a small patch of grass among the Mournland's dry ground (and later others as well). Immediately a party member recognizes it as herself. The other party members might think she's crazy, but a close inspection reveals many things that might be more than coincidence. The same color eyes and hair. If the character is dragonmarked, perhaps a cow with a single spot in it's equivalent of where the character is marked, similar scars left over from the war, etc.
1225) A "forest" of swords. Diminuitive Daggers make up the smallest "plants" in the forest, while Colossal Great Swords make up the tallest "trees". If a PC's "uproots" a sword, a severed arm comes along with it. The swords are not battle effective, and break upon the first successful attack.
Can't remember if I've done this one or not, but here goes...
1227) No one in the party has internal dialog. Whatever they are thinking they speak aloud. When they dream, they narrate their dreams, possibly keeping others awake.
1228) Works best if the players are Cyrans.
THe party is wandering through the mists of the Mournland and the players see and/or hear people they knew who died in the Mournland screaming for help. Each player only hear/see the people they knew and not what each other see and hear. The "ghosts" scream for help, cry, cower, and all die horribly resulting in a charm effect that drives each player to try and help their loved ones, abandoning the group. The thing causing the hallucinations is a Living Programmed Image Spell.
1229) While traveling through the Mournland the PCs find huge crystal monolith detailing Cyre's victory in the war in the year 1001YK.
This is about to get bumped off and it's way to awesome to see vanish.
1230) While adventuring in the Mournland, the PCs stumble upon a monstrosity that makes Orcus look like a well-mannered, well-groomed gentleman.
1230) An animated Lightning Rail off its track and moving about the Mournlands like a great, electrified serpent.
I remember that at some point in the thread's history it was compiled into a word document.
Does anyone know if the document is still available? Or who it was who compiled it?
I hope this makes sense, I am really tired right now.
1231) The PC's find strangely familiar humans about 50 feet away. As they get close they see that there are the exact number of Familiar people as there are PC's. The strange people are gathered in a small huddle as if looking at something, upon getting even closer you notice their heads are turned and looking directly at them. Shockingly upon reaching the people you notice that they are infact you! looking at your self dead huddling in a group, in the exact positions you are standing in now. You then here people comming up from behind, and it is the group of PC's rediscovering their "Dead?" bodys? The looks of horror upon their face as they see them self dead.
I have only read up to page 9 atm, but I had a couple ideas, and registered to voice them!
1233) The PCs find a strange forest; the trees all have clothing on them. Not hanging from the branches, but in ways that couldn't be possible unless the clothing was made around the tree, shirts will be on trunks untorn with tree limbs going through the arms holes, necklaces will be hanging far too far up for anyone to have climed and put them there, hats may be capping the tree. There will be about the amount of clothing that one person would wear per tree. Also, is it just the PCs imaginations, or do the trees have a slightly fleshy tone to them?
If the PCs should decide to try and damage these trees, there will be no resistance. However, if they use the trees for firewood, and boil water, the water becomes thick and red. A face appears in the water its mouth starting to move...
What does it have to say? Thats up to the DM.
1234) One of the PCs awakens one morning with an itch on their leg. Looking closely, they can make out two tiny holes. The first day or so, nothing bad happens, then the PC develops a fever. After a while, it becomes impossible to walk on that leg, the flesh around the holes becomeing black.
If the PCs make it out of the Mournlands, it is possible to get the leg healed. What happened? A simple bite from a brown recluse spider. Not all the Mournlands horrors have to be supernatural.
They find a new, terrible monster in the ruins of Metrol: Norris Chuck.
I had another idea.
1236) The players come across a corpse of an elderly woman, still intact as is the standard. Two of the players identify her as their mother... but they aren't brothers.
Any attempts to dispel illusion fail. The two PCs are cousins, their mothers were identical twins. Of course, you don't tell them this, they get to wonder.
I realize this one will be hard to pull off unless you know all of your PCs complete backstory's, you would have to ensure that those two PCs had never met one another's parents, and both of them would had to have had families in Cyre at the time of the Mourning.
EDIT: 1237) The PC's find an area that looks as if it escaped the horrors of the mourning. A small cottage is there, with an elderly man reading a story to a young boy outside the home, and what seems like the boys parents sitting and laughing in a flower bed. However, the PCs notice that they can't hear any of this. They will notice that the corruption doesn't fade away around the house, it ends abruptly, there is a clear line where the charred and decaying earth ends and the pleasant grass begins. If any of the players try and cross this line, they feel a shock (no damage) and are pushed back.
They may walk away at this point, but if they continue to investigate they will find that the child goes off to play and runs right past the line of where the decay starts, and seems to simply vanish. A few moments later, he comes running back, re-appearing just as quickly.
If the PCs are really interested they may find that once every 5 minuets for about one second the invisible barrier keeping them out dissipates. It takes a fairly high Dex check (i suppose use your own judgment on how much you want them to be able to get in) but it is possible.
If any of the PCs do make it in, the family turns out to be hostile. Not only hostile, but the image that they were human was only true from the outside looking in. (Use some humanoid that is level appropriate, and theme appropriate for the Mournlands)
If some of the PCs don't make it in and some do, as soon as the line is crossed the area seems to vanish to the PCs still outside of it. It becomes just another barren waste like the rest of the Mournlands.
To the PC that made it in, they still see the mournlands outside of the small area. Two things could happen here:
1) The PC(s) manage to kill the family, in which case the same Dex check that got them in could get them out again.
2) The family kills the PC, and eats their flesh. They will take one of the PCs bones and start hammering on the invisible wall to time when they need to go, and come out of their home area and attack the rest of the party.
I would love to take credit for that one, but its ripped off of an episode of The Outer Limits.
1238) The party encounters a sobbing person. Dressed in non-descript clothing and of slight build, the individual appears as a haggard-faced woman of middle-age, mourning her children, who left to fight in the wars and begging the characters for any information as to their fates. Her form changes in a blur to that of a young man, missing an eye and bearing signs of being shocked and dazed, with scars of battle. He mumbles about them being enemies on Cyran soil and attacks them with a stick, which he seems to think is a short sword. If restrained, he struggles and then flows into the image of a much older man (still in the same worn clothing), who begins loudly prophecying doom on all assembled, and seems to think he is on a street corner, speaking to a crowd of onlookers, ranting about how this cursed war is bleeding Cyre dry and must be stopped before the gods themselves put a stop to it.
The individual is a Changeling, who was at the edge of Cyre when the disaster struck, and has been drawn back to the site of the city where s/he once lived many lives, only to find themself overwhelmed by the psychic impressions of all the lives that were snuffed out, and forced to endlessly replay scenes from their lives...
1239) The party is attacked by low-level Living Spells, and discover that robed figures seem to be directing them. Adepts who have mastered the Slime or Thirst Domain (either of which allows one to rebuke/command oozes, of which Living Spells are one) have gathered in a secret cabal to harness the power of the Living Spells of the Mournland for their own sinister purposes! One of the few adventure seeds where the 'big bad evil guys' are members of an NPC class...
If anyone feels like using any of my idea's a PM with some player reactions would be cool. I doubt I'm going to run any of this stuff myself.
1240) A door that reacts to player proximity. If the PCs are close to it it will creek open, if the PCs walk away it slams shut. The PCs have some difficulty moving this door physically. (Can be used in conjunction with any horror with a door, really)
1241) One of the PCs glance down and realize with horror that the mage (or anyone not wearing heavy boots, really) is no longer wearing their shoes. Insted, they have a new pair made of human flesh.
1242) The PCs find some corpses with straw dolls. Any cuts or damage caused to the dolls will cause them to bleed, but the same damage would reveal that the corpses seem to be human skin filled with straw...
Huh, its been three years since I contributed to this thread... that I must remedy.
1243) There are universal laws, and those are all broken in the Mournland. A Marut, the Inevitable charged with keeping the laws of life and death in tact came to the Mournland years ago, being drawn by the wrongness of the place. The Mournland is so beyond its understanding it is unable to process what has happened. Everything seems to be dead, but the souls have not gone to Doluurh. The cause is not typical necromancy, and while ghosts do exist in the Mournland the vast majority of the souls of the dead are simply gone.
This it cannot abide. Besides attempting to rekill any ghost or ghostlike phenomena it comes across it will ANGRILY demand from anything living an explanation. "What have you done with them?" "Where are they?" "Why are you not dead?" Chances are the party will be completely unable to answer its questions to the Marut's satisfaction, in which case it will try to smash them. Its final words will have slightly more context to give the party some explaination... as it lays dying, "The souls... what happened.... to the souls."
1245) A forest of trees with thousands of bottles hanging from the branches. If a bottle is picked and unstoppered, you can here the voice of someone describing what they did on the day of the Mourning. If you pick enough, perhaps you'll come across a Cannith heir...
1246) In a farmhouse, the players find a cow, a pig, a sheep, a goat, a horse and a sheepdog sitting around a dinner table. (Some on chairs, others sitting on their hindquarters.)
They are eating the carved carcass of a tall tanned human male as dinner, along with various vegetables, gravy and other such trimmings.
They can only grip their food with their teeth, or nudge the plates around with their feet, but they act like human diners in most other respects, observing ettiquete as far as they are able and grunting and bleating at each other as though speaking.
(For those in an absurd frame of mind, the scene resembles one of those Dogs Playing Poker paintings.)
The animals do not react hostilly to the PCs unless they attack them or severely disrupt the meal, acting as though the family pets had walked into the room.
If any of the PCs are non-human, the sheep will offer them table scraps, held in it's mouth. This earns it a reproachful look from the pig.
If the players decide to stick around, it is up to the GM to work out how they're going to do the washing-up.
1247. Temporal Bubble
A temporal bubble of space, that jumps things backwards and forwards in time. Cyrans from the "Great Last War" who don't know they lose the war, contemporary monsters like living spells, hobgoblins from the ancient Pre-Galifar Empire & a far-future city of Warforged built on this spot called Morning.
All these things start to occur at once in a pocket of space which is a mesh up of all these areas, from all the different temporal states. Each group fighting for their right to exist in this space they call home.
1248) Town Volcano
Before your eyes, where a small town(perhaps a Cyran character's hometown) used to be, a volcano is being formed. As you can see it is primarily made of buildings, carts and even some lightning rail parts. Soon it erupts, yet what flows isn't lava but human bodies bathed in a sweet-smelled corrosive purple liquid. Following the eruption the bodies rise and ravingly assault the group. After surprisingly little time, they fall and turn to ash along with anyone they killed -so does the volcano itself. Watch carefully and you'll see a new volcano made of the town's remnants rising. Just don't wait for the next eruption ...
1249.a bunch of portals appear & spew out a bunch of weird monsters(I.E.good demons/devils,caotic inevitables and on and on.)
1250. Those who enter the Mournland eventually realize that the loaves of bread that they had brought with them and had accidentally been somewhat crushed in transport do not slowly regain their shape and instead remain forever somewhat crushed.
1251. You're suddenly caught in a storm. No, nothing fancy-no red raindrops( at least this time) and no living spells-just heavy rain and the occasional thunder and lightning. With one exception: there are no clouds. None at all. The day is perfectly shiny, the sky completely spotless.
1252. A fully armed band of warriors on a wagon approach you. They look like ordinary people made of purple glass and bearing huge scythes. Their leader, an old dwarf, asks you to stop for an inspection-he sounds quite kind in an bureaucratic, dull way. He explains that they are tax collectors, here to take what the PCs own to the crown of Cyre.
The sum he asks is pretty low-if you try give him some coin though, the tax collector refuses to accept them and nicely explains that their coin is unacceptable, since Cyre's only accepted currency is the head. He demands all your crowns, sovereigns, galifars and dragons, which, as he quite kindly means the head of every PC member of a noble house, divine character, citizen of a nation that used to belong to Galifar and dragonmarked(or dragonborn) respectively. Refusing, of course, is a major crime, punishable by decapitation.
1253: Nothing supernatural. Just a nasty case of trench foot among the team. Bad enough in the real world, but what about in a place where you can't heal up?
1254. The players find a maggot infested corpse. One of the maggots wriggles free of the flesh and begins a conversation with the PCs.
1255. Early in the morning, the Players find a house. On the front step, a fresh newspaper/bulletin from the closest neighbouring borders to their current Mournland location. A dog emerges from the house and brings the paper inside, placing it at the feet of his long dead master, atop of a huge pile of similar papers/bulletins. The dog then settles down next to his masters chair, inspecting him finds that he is quite dead just like his master. Every morning this house will have a fresh paper but no player will ever see anyone arrive to place one.
Thats a well trained dog by the way. I can't get mine to do anything but tear up newspapers and its alive.
Wow, haven't seen this in a while. I think it's about time I reply.
1256: When the players are wandering about they stumble on to an orange tree surrounded by hideous monsters staring at it blankly. The tree is perfectly healthy and perfectly alive. The next morning all the monsters are dead. By noon the exact same number of monsters comes out of the mist one by one and circle the tree, staring at it blankly.
1257: A large stretch of blank, featurless land. the party eventually finds a Lightning Rail car, that seems to have fallen from a great height. As they approach, your hear the blare of the horn, the happy sounds of departure, and an "all aboard!" There are no clues to how it fell, or what kepps the sounds.
In the spirit of the season (a little late I know) and because I love this thread here goes:
#1258: While travelling along the one of the old lightning rail lines the players come across an overturned lightning rail that was knocked away from the conductor stones during the Mourning. They are able to here moans and a cry for help coming from inside one of the cars. If they investigate they suddenly find themselves on the cart while it is travelling through Cyre on the day of Mourning. In each of the seats sits a skeleton of the person who had sat there during the day. They can see the serene countryside outside the window as the train goes flying down the tracks.
No matter what the players do the skeleton people seem unable to see or hear them. However, if they explore further they find one little boy sitting by himself. He seems to be alive and well and stares blankly at the players. The players seem hypnotized by his blank eyes for a moment and then they are able to break out of it.
The boy begins repeating over and over, "They're all going to die. You can't stop it. They'll die." At this point the players realize the other seats aren't filled with the skeleton bodies anymore. Instead they are living beings in the seats. Also, the scene outside has changed to the pastorial Aundair. They are able to see the floating towers of Arcanix out in the distance.
Suddenly, the cart shakes as monsterous tenticles errupt from the ground and begin wrapping themselves around the car, a dead grey fog spewing up from the ground and seeping into the cart. As the fog fills the cart, blinding the players, they stumble out of the cart and back into the Mournland, the screams of the dying echoing in their ears.
Come on! I know you can think of more ideas than this! :D
I dont know if this has been suggested yet but:
The party comes across a group of warforged hold up in a gloomy looking building that are friendly, however they are colder to other warforged. They invite the party to stay the night. In conversation the players find out that the warforged act and behave as if they were human. They will deny being warforged and can become angry if pressed. At night when the party falls a sleep they will try to capture some of the party and kill any warforged players. As it turns out they are so bent on being alive that they are willing to carve up any living humanoid to strip for flesh and incorperate into themselves. "it puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again..." >=D
#1260: A village in a valley of babies with sharp teeth and a blood thrist. They grab glass, blunt objects, hooks, or spikes and prey upon their parents. Every night their parents are revived, only to be tied up, chased down, and brutally beaten, torn, and evicerated with clawed, tearing hands. Their flesh is eaten but their bodies never fully die. Screams of terror and angish pierce the night along side wretched cries of childlike glee. When the sun peaks over the valley's edge the image of cheribic babies and evicerated souls becomes frozen in stone, merry giggling playing in the wind and echos of the valley.
#1261 - The PC's come across a blasted village, with the typical dead, undecomposed bodies littering the ruins. But there is life yet. Cats. Thousands of cats. Everyday, run of the mill, commoner-killing housecats, living their lives, breeding, dying, patrolling, doing the regular cat stuff. They're scruffy, scarred, and scrawny - typical strays - but nothing else is unusual about them. They ignore the dead bodies around them. Every now and then another cat will wander out of the mourlands to take up residence here. Why? And what are they eating? And why don't any of the horrors of the Mournlands bother them inside the village?
#1262 - Every time they look away from their companions, the other PC's features change. A little at a time. Imperceptable, really. They stay the same race and sex and personality, but little by little, every glance, every blink brings a new, subtle change. As you cross the mourlands, your companions transform into completely different people. You of course, are the same as you've always been... right? Right?
#1263 - After that last fight, you can't stop sneezing. Sneeze after sneeze, clouds of dust and ash puff from your nostrils. You're starting to feel a bit light-headed and forgetful... Oh dear.
#1264 - For reasons only the Traveler knows, you and your companions are in the aqueducts (sewers, y'all!) of Metrol. And it's beautiful. A whole ecology of brilliant fungi, mycoheterotrophic plants, eyeless gossamer butterflies and the glowing frogs that feed on them. Of course, given that the base of this ecology seems to be the huddled remains of other adventurers like yourself does diminish the beauty somewhat...
#1265 - It was an aviary once. All the birds are hardened now into bird-shaped (and sized!) gemstones, free for the taking. All you have to do is get past their animate, frenzied song trapped in the aviary with them. You can't see it, and every tweeted note opens a new wound.
#1266 - You've developed a rash on the hand you used to handle that chunk of metal that was i nthe way. A nasty boil forms in your palm and at the creases of your fingers. Oh gods it itches. When it finally splits open, there's a milky eye inside... and you can see yourself through its gaze, and you know that it hates you. You're the hideous, grotesque monster, to the gaze of your hand. Cures might remove the... thing, but that different perspective is going to stick with you...
#1267 - A storm brews overhead. When it rains, clothing tumbles from the sky with it. The clothes are still warm, as if recently taken off someone.
#1268 - You wake up after a fitful rest to find yourself covered in bruises that fit humanoid bitemarks. The cleric in your party professes that he feels far too full to even consider eating.
#1269 - A mired riverbed, just a long stretch of half-dried mud and eternally flopping, gasping fish. Three yards to the left, a ribbon of water follows the exact course of the riverbed. Nothing lives in it, and if transported, the fish will leap from the water as if panicked, showing signs of acid burns.
#1270 - A battleground of Cyran and Karnn corpses. All on their feet. All of them locked together by their weapons; not a single corpse is not impaled or impaling another (and of course not always an "enemy") with a weapon. When the wind blows, each of the corpses naturally shifts with hte wind... making the whole mass move slowly but steadily in an odd, shuffling way. Someone (...something?) sure went through a lot of time and effort to arrange them...
Hopefully I'm not repeating another idea, such a cool thread but too much for me to read at work! ;-)
#1271 The mourn-runners
The party encounters, at a distance a group of humanoids all running full pelt in single file - perhaps they cross the parties journey of travel at an angle? The runners are different races, both genders, different ages. They are all wiry, mal-nourished and dressed in rags and all barefoot.
If the party attempts to stop them they will fight to free themselves but not otherwise be aggressive. They do not communicate with one another and will stare blankly in the direction of travel unless forced to interact with a player (and even then will keep looking off longingly in the direction of travel). All of them have slate grey irises that seem 'lifeless'. One may mumble about 'the lines' and the need to run them to 'prevent the mourn from breaking free'.
If the PCs are able to keep up with the group somehow (given that they run at full pelt for 18 hours a day before collapsing and sleeping on the spot) then they will eventually notice that the runners’ path seems to be tracing the route of an old lightning rail. The runners dodge past the cracked and crumbled remains of the lightning stones which formed the track for the vehicles. Eventually the group reaches a junction point with a ruined waystation building. The group rests here for the night before veering off in a different direction following another lightning rail track.
In the building the PCs will have to fight an encounter of wild creatures (the runners ignore the fight and are ignored by the wild creatures as well). If they search they will eventually find some badly damaged records form the waystation which hint at strange energy fluctuations on the lightning rail grid in the run-up to the end of the record - the Day of Mourning.
P.S this is partially inspired by an old Sheri S Tepper novel (the True Game) to give credit, where credit is due
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