Done! Wendigo [Fiend Folio] Pic
Done! Wheep [Libris Mortis] Pic
Done! Wicker man [Fiend Folio] Pic
Widderrìbhinn [Ravenloft Gazetteer V]
Done! Wight [Monster Manual] Pic
Done! Wight creature [Savage Species] Pic
Wight, slaughter [Libris Mortis] Pic
Wildlands beast [new]
Done! Will-o’-wisp, dread, will-o’-dawn [Ravenloft Monstrous Compendium III]
Done! Will-o’-wisp, dread, will-o’-deep [Ravenloft Monstrous Compendium III]
Done! Will-o’-wisp, dread, will-o’-mist [Ravenloft Monstrous Compendium III]
Done! Will-o’-wisp, dread, will-o’-sea [Ravenloft Monstrous Compendium III]
Done! Will-o’-wisp, dread, will-o’-wisp [Monster Manual] Pic
Done! Winter wolf [Monster Manual] Pic
Done! Wraith [Monster Manual] Pic
Done! Wraith, war [Book of Souls]
Done! Wraith creature [Savage Species] Pic
Done! Wrethfetin (halfling vampire) [Denizens of Dread]
Wendigo: Template Fey (Cold), CR +2, chaotic evil. A spirit of the frozen wastes that transforms mortals into more of its kind by infecting them with a terrible hunger for the flesh of their own kind. Lore is available in the WotC monster lore thread.
Wheep: Medium Undead, CR 11, lawful evil. A wizened obedient dead. Its fangs and claws are splattered with the poisonous black tears that continuously stream from its empty eye sockets. Also emits a fearful dirge. Lore is available in the WotC monster lore thread.
Wicker man: Huge Constrict, CR 11, neutral. A huge, hollow wooden structure built by druids for seasonal ceremonies. When animated, it can engulf itself in flame and trap creatures inside its torso. Lore is available in the WotC monster lore thread. “Long ago, the druids of Forlorn would sometimes erect wicker men to mark their spring festivals. Today, that practice has died out, but the goblyns have adopted it in their place, partly to spite the old faith, and partly to honor their own god, Arawn. The goblyns lack the ability to animate a wicker man, but legend has it that when a true Innocent is locked within the wicker man’s cage and burned alive, the wicker man may spontaneously animate as a construct of obsession.”
Widderrìbhinn: Template Undead (Augmented Fey), CR +2, any evil. Undead spirits of fey creatures that somehow died a true death due to terrible violence or foul magic. Basically a fey-specific variant of the ghost template. Tristessa’s ghostly followers Keening are widderrìbhinn.
Wight: Medium Undead, CR 3, lawful evil. Standard, barrow-lurking undead that drain energy with their attacks. Lore is available in the WotC monster lore thread.
Wight Creature: Template Undead, CR +3, lawful evil. A simple template that turns non-humanoid creatures into wights.
Wight, Slaughter: Medium Undead, CR 8, chaotic evil. A particularly powerful and vicious wight touched by the power of evil gods or the Dark Powers.
Wildlands Beast: Template Magical Beast, CR +1, neutral. A simple template that basically applies the awaken spell to the Wildland’s animals. All animals that enter the Wildlands gradually become sentient. Their intelligence fades again if they leave the domain. The sample creatures are a Wildlands ape and a Wildlands crocodile. Lore is available in the Monster Lore thread.
Will-o’-Wisp, Dread: Will-o’-wisp variants. Lore for all of the Ravenloft variants is available in the Monster Lore thread.
Will-o’-Dawn (Feu Follet): Tiny Aberration (Air), CR 4, chaotic good. A benevolent will-o’-wisp that appears only at dawn. It can’t physically harm opponents, but can confuse them. Harmed by magical darkness. Feeds off the emotions of excited, happy, relieved minds.
Will-o’-Deep: Tiny Aberration (Air), CR 3, neutral evil. A subterranean will-o’-wisp that leads lost spelunkers and/or dungeon crawlers into cave-ins and similar hazards.
Will-o’-Mist: Small Aberration (Air, Mists), CR 5, chaotic neutral. A will-o’-wisp that roams the Misty Border. Can navigate the mists, but cannot survive beyond them.
Will-o’-Sea: Huge Aberration (Air), CR 8, neutral evil. The most powerful will-o-wisp variety, which exists in and around the seas of Ravenloft. Appears as a sheet of electricity or St. Elmo’s Fire.
Will-o’-Wisp: Small Aberration (Air), CR 6, chaotic evil. The standard MM will-o’-wisp.
Winter wolf: Large Magical Beast (Cold), CR 5, neutral evil. Large, white, intelligent wolves with a cold breath weapon. Lore is available in the WotC monster lore thread.
Wraith: Medium Undead (Incorporeal), CR 5, lawful evil. Shadowy spirit, resembling a robed humanoid. Animals panic in its presence. It drains Constitution with its touch, but is rendered powerless by daylight. Lore is available in the WotC monster lore thread.
Wraith, War: Medium Undead (Incorporeal), CR 5, lawful evil. Shadowy warriors that haunt battlefields, draining the last life from the wounded. See the Book of Souls for the full scoop.
Wraith Creature: Template Undead (Incorporeal), CR +3, lawful evil. A basic template that turns non-humanoid creatures into wraiths.
Wrethfetin (Halfling Vampire): Template Undead (Augmented Humanoid, Vampire), CR +2, chaotic evil. A strain of vampirism that only affects halflings. Lore is available in the Monster Lore thread.
Teeny Tiny Tales of Terror: W is for Wicked
Teeny Tiny Tales of Terror: W is for Wicked
Last edited by Mangrum on Tue May 08, 2007 1:12 am, edited 5 times in total.
WRETHFETIN
It is a prejudice of you the living that the Requiem was a disaster for the living alone. When in truth the suffering of many of the undead was far worse. Once the funeral homes and the surrounding villages had been emptied and after every zombie unworthy of its flesh had been run down and torn apart, the ghoul packs could do nothing but devour themselves. And the situation was bleaker still for the bloodsuckers. The surrounding countryside was soon bled dry. Further afield, a spirited resistance, secretly led by your beloved Kargat, resulted in frightful rates of attrition. Half-starved, the vampire set to eliminating one another. The survivors, many of who had lived in Il Aluk for a century or more, in the end embraced emigration. But this was not an option for the Wrethfetin, who would rise each night and, driven mad by their unsatiated hunger, would attack anything that moved, until they were themselves sent back to their graves, from which they would invariably return, save for when it rained. Mercifully, Death had the damned halflings staked where they lay.
-Vice-Chancellor August Montalva of the University of Il Aluk, in correspondence with Doctor Abelhous Nicholis, Professor of Biology at the University of Il Aluk in Exile at Karg
It is a prejudice of you the living that the Requiem was a disaster for the living alone. When in truth the suffering of many of the undead was far worse. Once the funeral homes and the surrounding villages had been emptied and after every zombie unworthy of its flesh had been run down and torn apart, the ghoul packs could do nothing but devour themselves. And the situation was bleaker still for the bloodsuckers. The surrounding countryside was soon bled dry. Further afield, a spirited resistance, secretly led by your beloved Kargat, resulted in frightful rates of attrition. Half-starved, the vampire set to eliminating one another. The survivors, many of who had lived in Il Aluk for a century or more, in the end embraced emigration. But this was not an option for the Wrethfetin, who would rise each night and, driven mad by their unsatiated hunger, would attack anything that moved, until they were themselves sent back to their graves, from which they would invariably return, save for when it rained. Mercifully, Death had the damned halflings staked where they lay.
-Vice-Chancellor August Montalva of the University of Il Aluk, in correspondence with Doctor Abelhous Nicholis, Professor of Biology at the University of Il Aluk in Exile at Karg
The cure for what ails you
Better perhaps:
WRETHFETIN
Ray whispered with unmoving lips: “We are surrounded by a dozen halflings who do not smoke. Do you realise how unlikely that is? Ask for some tobacco when the serving wench returns.” This I did and was told that smoking was unhealthy and thus was forbidden on the premises. Ray smiled and said to the young halfling: “Sadly, my friend here is incorrigible, it would be good if whoever has talked sense into your heads might have a word with him too.” She offered enthusiastically, “That would be Dr. Stubbins.” Ray inquired: “A no nonsense military man who cut his teeth tending to the victims of Drakov’s two, or was it three, invasions? Perhaps you are better at history than I am.” She said: “No, a young halfling from out east. Comes in most evenings, though probably not tonight unless the weather clears. And it was four invasions, I witnessed each of the horrors with these very eyes.” The moment she left us Ray whispered just above the threshold of my hearing: “She is not the only person who looks two decades younger than nature should allow. The same is true of the scarred veterans. The same is true, I would venture, of every halfling in the place.”
-“The Wrethfetin’s Blood” from The Casebook of Alanik Ray, Dr. Arthur Sedgewick
WRETHFETIN
Ray whispered with unmoving lips: “We are surrounded by a dozen halflings who do not smoke. Do you realise how unlikely that is? Ask for some tobacco when the serving wench returns.” This I did and was told that smoking was unhealthy and thus was forbidden on the premises. Ray smiled and said to the young halfling: “Sadly, my friend here is incorrigible, it would be good if whoever has talked sense into your heads might have a word with him too.” She offered enthusiastically, “That would be Dr. Stubbins.” Ray inquired: “A no nonsense military man who cut his teeth tending to the victims of Drakov’s two, or was it three, invasions? Perhaps you are better at history than I am.” She said: “No, a young halfling from out east. Comes in most evenings, though probably not tonight unless the weather clears. And it was four invasions, I witnessed each of the horrors with these very eyes.” The moment she left us Ray whispered just above the threshold of my hearing: “She is not the only person who looks two decades younger than nature should allow. The same is true of the scarred veterans. The same is true, I would venture, of every halfling in the place.”
-“The Wrethfetin’s Blood” from The Casebook of Alanik Ray, Dr. Arthur Sedgewick
The cure for what ails you
-
alhoon
- Invisible Menace
- Posts: 8818
- Joined: Thu Dec 11, 2003 6:46 pm
- Location: Chania or Athens // Greece
Wraith:
"The wraith of the Grayrock village? Aye, I remember that shady business. It was a difficult fight. The adventuring party I was in was passing through the village and the Mayor informed us about the wraith. He offered a good reward.
We were looking for it all day, but it was nowhere. Ferderun, our ranger, noted that it appears only at night to haunt the roads near the village. So we slept and waited for the night.
After a couple of fruitless nights, Ferderun spotted a place that animals avoided; a patch in the forest that was devoid of animals. Creepy place that. Dark and silent. Anyway, we approached under the protection of Ezra provided by that Ancorite fellow Drevin.
Then we saw it: a white semi-trasparent, cloaked figure floating out of large, dead oak in eerie silence. Ferderun left an arrow fly from his enchanted bow, I raised my spear to attack and the Ancorite mouthed a prayer. We had a couple of young warriors with us that night. Caravan guards who were looking to make some fame for themselves. They charged in with their axes, even after Drevin shouted to them to stay back... poor fellows.
Their weapons were normal, the short you find in a blacksmith, the honest weapons as I call them... not what you find in the hands of a vampire like my spear. They passed through the wraith's body leaving it unharmed. Then it moved its hand and touched one of the warriors, who suddenly grew pale and clutched his heart.
We kept on pressing on the fiend some of our own attacks missing, some finding their mark. The wounded man tried to retreat but it just passed through a tree in its way and touched the unlucky fellow again, and with a coarse scream, he dropped dead.
His fellow screamed in terror and froze in his place, I'm sure he wetted his pants although I cannot blame him. His friends was dead without a scratch, not a way for a warrior to die. Enraged by the loss of our new companion we pressed the attack and probably wounded the unholy thing much because it retreated to the ground.
As we turned to look at our fallen companion, Drevin started to say something, a warning probably about what would follow. Before he mouthed more than a word though, we saw another figure, hazy and semi-transparent rise from the corpse of our lost companion. The features of his face were not clear but we could recognise the similarities to him.
Aye, you guessed it right. A few moments after he was killed by the touch he returned as another spawn of evil.
The first target of this new threat was his once before friend, frozen in terror. He managed to kill the other lad too, just before I managed to dissolve its unholy essence with my magic spear. Devin this time managed to sprinkle the body with holy water and say some prayer on time, so at least this lad's soul was saved.
It was a full week before we managed to destroy the original wraith of the Grayrock village. And that not before it managed to touch Fedrerun. While Dervin's prayers helped him, Fedrerun's health waned from that encounter; he become somewhat feeble for his age and was the first to catch a cold from our troop from there on. "
- From the saying's of a gray-haired man at an Invidian Inn.
"The wraith of the Grayrock village? Aye, I remember that shady business. It was a difficult fight. The adventuring party I was in was passing through the village and the Mayor informed us about the wraith. He offered a good reward.
We were looking for it all day, but it was nowhere. Ferderun, our ranger, noted that it appears only at night to haunt the roads near the village. So we slept and waited for the night.
After a couple of fruitless nights, Ferderun spotted a place that animals avoided; a patch in the forest that was devoid of animals. Creepy place that. Dark and silent. Anyway, we approached under the protection of Ezra provided by that Ancorite fellow Drevin.
Then we saw it: a white semi-trasparent, cloaked figure floating out of large, dead oak in eerie silence. Ferderun left an arrow fly from his enchanted bow, I raised my spear to attack and the Ancorite mouthed a prayer. We had a couple of young warriors with us that night. Caravan guards who were looking to make some fame for themselves. They charged in with their axes, even after Drevin shouted to them to stay back... poor fellows.
Their weapons were normal, the short you find in a blacksmith, the honest weapons as I call them... not what you find in the hands of a vampire like my spear. They passed through the wraith's body leaving it unharmed. Then it moved its hand and touched one of the warriors, who suddenly grew pale and clutched his heart.
We kept on pressing on the fiend some of our own attacks missing, some finding their mark. The wounded man tried to retreat but it just passed through a tree in its way and touched the unlucky fellow again, and with a coarse scream, he dropped dead.
His fellow screamed in terror and froze in his place, I'm sure he wetted his pants although I cannot blame him. His friends was dead without a scratch, not a way for a warrior to die. Enraged by the loss of our new companion we pressed the attack and probably wounded the unholy thing much because it retreated to the ground.
As we turned to look at our fallen companion, Drevin started to say something, a warning probably about what would follow. Before he mouthed more than a word though, we saw another figure, hazy and semi-transparent rise from the corpse of our lost companion. The features of his face were not clear but we could recognise the similarities to him.
Aye, you guessed it right. A few moments after he was killed by the touch he returned as another spawn of evil.
The first target of this new threat was his once before friend, frozen in terror. He managed to kill the other lad too, just before I managed to dissolve its unholy essence with my magic spear. Devin this time managed to sprinkle the body with holy water and say some prayer on time, so at least this lad's soul was saved.
It was a full week before we managed to destroy the original wraith of the Grayrock village. And that not before it managed to touch Fedrerun. While Dervin's prayers helped him, Fedrerun's health waned from that encounter; he become somewhat feeble for his age and was the first to catch a cold from our troop from there on. "
- From the saying's of a gray-haired man at an Invidian Inn.
"You truly see what a person is made of, when you begin to slice into them" - Semirhage
"I am not mad, no matter what you're implying." - Litalia
My DMGuild work!
"I am not mad, no matter what you're implying." - Litalia
My DMGuild work!
WIGHT CREATURE
I had never hunted whales but I certainly knew men who did. They were a brave and superstitious lot, invariably with yarns to spin. An especially grim one concerned a great and venerable sperm whale. Its heavily scarred flesh was a sickly off white. The creature was said to never bleed, to be capable of holding its breath far longer than any of its kind, and to offer every evidence of being misanthropic in the extreme. But it was the fate of the few men who had faced it in close quarters and had survived the encounter that made me shutter with recognition. For far too many of them had returned from the fight as shadows of their former selves, weakened or broken in body and spirit.
-From the journal of Rudolf van Richten
I had never hunted whales but I certainly knew men who did. They were a brave and superstitious lot, invariably with yarns to spin. An especially grim one concerned a great and venerable sperm whale. Its heavily scarred flesh was a sickly off white. The creature was said to never bleed, to be capable of holding its breath far longer than any of its kind, and to offer every evidence of being misanthropic in the extreme. But it was the fate of the few men who had faced it in close quarters and had survived the encounter that made me shutter with recognition. For far too many of them had returned from the fight as shadows of their former selves, weakened or broken in body and spirit.
-From the journal of Rudolf van Richten
The cure for what ails you
WRAITH CREATURE
In front of the inn’s patrons the leader of the surviving adventurers dared address Lukas in these terms:
“You warned us that the underbrush would not slow its charge - not that it could rush headlong through trees. You hinted that it might not be easily pricked by our blades - not that they might pass clean through it. You confessed that there was something unnatural about it - not that it was unholy. You said it would not easily be put out of existence - not that it had no life to yield.”
To which the old rogue replied with a wolfish smile:
“You came from your land seeking adventure, n’est-ce pas? I afforded you a grand one for not so much as a Rat-Tooth. And had you ended Grandfather Boar suffering I would have gladly paid you the bounty. But of course as proof you would have had to bring me his head.”
-Extract from “Recent events in Kartakass” compiled by Barovian spies
In front of the inn’s patrons the leader of the surviving adventurers dared address Lukas in these terms:
“You warned us that the underbrush would not slow its charge - not that it could rush headlong through trees. You hinted that it might not be easily pricked by our blades - not that they might pass clean through it. You confessed that there was something unnatural about it - not that it was unholy. You said it would not easily be put out of existence - not that it had no life to yield.”
To which the old rogue replied with a wolfish smile:
“You came from your land seeking adventure, n’est-ce pas? I afforded you a grand one for not so much as a Rat-Tooth. And had you ended Grandfather Boar suffering I would have gladly paid you the bounty. But of course as proof you would have had to bring me his head.”
-Extract from “Recent events in Kartakass” compiled by Barovian spies
The cure for what ails you
-
Rotipher of the FoS
- Thieving Crow
- Posts: 4683
- Joined: Sat Dec 06, 2003 4:18 pm
WHEEP
Important though secrecy may be in such matters, Kunduktør, fully investigating such a blasphemous incident remains paramount. Such abominations do not roam at random; the loathesome thing must have had a master. Bind the slain guardsmen's families to silence as you see fit, but do not hesitate to question anyone who may have witnessed its passage or venomous trail. We must know if this attempted violation of the peace of the Lawgiver's Elect arose from the dead-accursed north, the benighted west, or the storm-wracked east!
-- Confidential message from the Himmelsk Naeve to the senior overseer of Kantora's royal Mausoleum
Important though secrecy may be in such matters, Kunduktør, fully investigating such a blasphemous incident remains paramount. Such abominations do not roam at random; the loathesome thing must have had a master. Bind the slain guardsmen's families to silence as you see fit, but do not hesitate to question anyone who may have witnessed its passage or venomous trail. We must know if this attempted violation of the peace of the Lawgiver's Elect arose from the dead-accursed north, the benighted west, or the storm-wracked east!
-- Confidential message from the Himmelsk Naeve to the senior overseer of Kantora's royal Mausoleum
"Who [u]cares[/u] what the Dark Powers are? They're [i]bastards![/i] That's all I need to know of them." -- Crow
WENDIGO
The Lamordian warned, “Beware of the wendigo.” I cocked a quizical eyebrow and, after a long moment, he added with the poetic obscurity of a drunken Barovian, “The whisperer in the wind.” I persisted, “What is this whisperer in the wind, this wendigo of yours?” He shuttered in reply, “Best you not find out!” Irritated, I brought him along. Initially he carried himself well enough, but hardly had we begun the ascent of the glacier than he was reduced to a frightened wreck by a howling gust of wind. Having glimpsed something in it, I decided to put up with his terrified, hideously repetitive raving, “It whispers to me, it whispers to me!” Slowly I extracted from him the supposedly whispered Sylvan words, "Blood, burning blood, burning blood to quench.” With a gibbous moon brightening the night, I put him on watch. My sleep was soon disturbed by the man’s screams and I found him in great pain, a powerful bite having ripped through his coat and torn from his shoulder a sizeable hunk of flesh. I considered the situation, noting that the only tracks in the snow were our own, and decided to tend the wound as best I could, put him back on watch with a burning torch, and think further on the matter. I was plombing my memories when a sword, which I partially deflected at the last instant, crashed down about my ears. To my surprise, my unhappy companion did not attempt a second blow. Instead he threw himself upon me, sending us tumbling to the ground. Manifestly it was time that I make a meal of him. But the the poor, crazed fellow’s teeth were quicker as it was he who attempted to devour me!
-Matton Blanchard entertaining his fellow Narrulve
The Lamordian warned, “Beware of the wendigo.” I cocked a quizical eyebrow and, after a long moment, he added with the poetic obscurity of a drunken Barovian, “The whisperer in the wind.” I persisted, “What is this whisperer in the wind, this wendigo of yours?” He shuttered in reply, “Best you not find out!” Irritated, I brought him along. Initially he carried himself well enough, but hardly had we begun the ascent of the glacier than he was reduced to a frightened wreck by a howling gust of wind. Having glimpsed something in it, I decided to put up with his terrified, hideously repetitive raving, “It whispers to me, it whispers to me!” Slowly I extracted from him the supposedly whispered Sylvan words, "Blood, burning blood, burning blood to quench.” With a gibbous moon brightening the night, I put him on watch. My sleep was soon disturbed by the man’s screams and I found him in great pain, a powerful bite having ripped through his coat and torn from his shoulder a sizeable hunk of flesh. I considered the situation, noting that the only tracks in the snow were our own, and decided to tend the wound as best I could, put him back on watch with a burning torch, and think further on the matter. I was plombing my memories when a sword, which I partially deflected at the last instant, crashed down about my ears. To my surprise, my unhappy companion did not attempt a second blow. Instead he threw himself upon me, sending us tumbling to the ground. Manifestly it was time that I make a meal of him. But the the poor, crazed fellow’s teeth were quicker as it was he who attempted to devour me!
-Matton Blanchard entertaining his fellow Narrulve
The cure for what ails you
Don't know if this is too "funny" but I guess that's subjective. Here goes...
will-o'-wisp, dread, will-o'-mist
"Ignore them," our Vistani guide said curtly as we sat on top of his vardo while he navigated us through the Mists. "They're harmless."
I looked around to see what he was talking about. Indeed, there were three small pinpricks of light floating in mid-air, converging around my apprentice, Ralston. Slightly bemused, he stuck out his hand to touch one. He let out a yelp and quickly pulled it back, his eyes wide as if he had just received an electric shock.
"Mostly harmless," said our Vistani guide before he turned his head and carried on.
- On the Mistways, from Hidden Lands, Hidden Perils by Oerbius
will-o'-wisp, dread, will-o'-mist
"Ignore them," our Vistani guide said curtly as we sat on top of his vardo while he navigated us through the Mists. "They're harmless."
I looked around to see what he was talking about. Indeed, there were three small pinpricks of light floating in mid-air, converging around my apprentice, Ralston. Slightly bemused, he stuck out his hand to touch one. He let out a yelp and quickly pulled it back, his eyes wide as if he had just received an electric shock.
"Mostly harmless," said our Vistani guide before he turned his head and carried on.
- On the Mistways, from Hidden Lands, Hidden Perils by Oerbius
-
Drinnik Shoehorn
- Evil Genius
- Posts: 1794
- Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2003 6:28 pm
- Location: Tiptree, Home of Jam
Will-o'-wisp, dread, Will-o'-wisp
When I was a child, mama always said when you're lost, go towards light, it's men looking for you. I always remembered that, because your mama doesn't ever lie.
When we got stuck in the bog, I thought, "head for the lights, that's what mama said, and mama never lies."
When we saw three torch lights flickering through the trees, I headed right for them, knowing that I was a good boy and doing what mama taught me.
The torches turned out to be marsh light, and I wept. The more we wept the stronger they shone, then they started spitting sparks and lightning at us.
I learnt an important lesson that day.
Mama lied.
-Written in a unmarked journal in the backpack of a corpse found in the bogs of Mordent
Wildlands Beast, Crocodile
When I was little, I remember a book. I can't remember where it came from, I just remember reading it in our library. There was a phrase inside it that made me laugh, and I always remembered it; "Never smile at a crocodile."
I recall this now, because we are tracking the great beasts on this hunt. Our Rajian guide says they congregate in the great swamps of these 'Wildlands'.
As we approached the monsters, I saw in amazement how they allowed small birds to filt in and out of their mouths, cleaning them. I shifted in position, grinning at this amazing discovery. Zoologists all over the Core would be fascinated by this.
One of the birds was startled by the slight noise I made, and flew to the side of the largest of these creature's heads. What happened next was incredible!
The beast turned and gazed in my general direction, "Come out," it said with a voice as dark and echoing as a cave, "Come out and give audience before your King."
-Collected from the unpublished Notes on the Wildlands by Sir Ranulph Victor Carter, before his disappearence in Sri Raji.
When I was a child, mama always said when you're lost, go towards light, it's men looking for you. I always remembered that, because your mama doesn't ever lie.
When we got stuck in the bog, I thought, "head for the lights, that's what mama said, and mama never lies."
When we saw three torch lights flickering through the trees, I headed right for them, knowing that I was a good boy and doing what mama taught me.
The torches turned out to be marsh light, and I wept. The more we wept the stronger they shone, then they started spitting sparks and lightning at us.
I learnt an important lesson that day.
Mama lied.
-Written in a unmarked journal in the backpack of a corpse found in the bogs of Mordent
Wildlands Beast, Crocodile
When I was little, I remember a book. I can't remember where it came from, I just remember reading it in our library. There was a phrase inside it that made me laugh, and I always remembered it; "Never smile at a crocodile."
I recall this now, because we are tracking the great beasts on this hunt. Our Rajian guide says they congregate in the great swamps of these 'Wildlands'.
As we approached the monsters, I saw in amazement how they allowed small birds to filt in and out of their mouths, cleaning them. I shifted in position, grinning at this amazing discovery. Zoologists all over the Core would be fascinated by this.
One of the birds was startled by the slight noise I made, and flew to the side of the largest of these creature's heads. What happened next was incredible!
The beast turned and gazed in my general direction, "Come out," it said with a voice as dark and echoing as a cave, "Come out and give audience before your King."
-Collected from the unpublished Notes on the Wildlands by Sir Ranulph Victor Carter, before his disappearence in Sri Raji.
"Blood once flowed, a choice was made
Travel by night the smallest one bade" The Ballad of the Taverners.
The Galen Saga: 2000-2005
Travel by night the smallest one bade" The Ballad of the Taverners.
The Galen Saga: 2000-2005
Ah well, can't blame me for trying. How about this?
will-o'-wisp, dread, will-o'-mist
"I'm tellin' you, the Mists have eyes! I've seen them myself, late at night when I'm lockin' up the barn. Makes the hair stand up on the back o' my neck when I see them hanging in the air, glowing with that wicked light o' theirs. Whenever I catch sight of one out of the corner of my eyes I just hurry up and head for my front door, and don't look left nor right until I'm safe inside."
- Farmer Williams of the Gray Heath, from the working notes for Van Richten's Guide to the Mists by Gennifer & Laurie Weathermay-Foxgrove
will-o'-wisp, dread, will-o'-mist
"I'm tellin' you, the Mists have eyes! I've seen them myself, late at night when I'm lockin' up the barn. Makes the hair stand up on the back o' my neck when I see them hanging in the air, glowing with that wicked light o' theirs. Whenever I catch sight of one out of the corner of my eyes I just hurry up and head for my front door, and don't look left nor right until I'm safe inside."
- Farmer Williams of the Gray Heath, from the working notes for Van Richten's Guide to the Mists by Gennifer & Laurie Weathermay-Foxgrove
Feu Follet (Will o' the Dawn)
"For Ezra's sake, why am I out of my cabin at this unholy hour?" I grumbled, glaring at the man who had convinced me to do this. The captain merely brushed me off with an irritated glance, pointing out over the sea towards the pink horizon.
"Look," he said.
As my eyes focused, I could see them, little warm lights like fireflies that danced upon the waves. The cheerful display lighted the ship, decorating her with colors finer than all the balls and galas I had ever attended. I couldn't help but laugh. For the first time in a long while, I felt at peace.
-From the private Journal of Jean Marsanne, Ezran priest
"For Ezra's sake, why am I out of my cabin at this unholy hour?" I grumbled, glaring at the man who had convinced me to do this. The captain merely brushed me off with an irritated glance, pointing out over the sea towards the pink horizon.
"Look," he said.
As my eyes focused, I could see them, little warm lights like fireflies that danced upon the waves. The cheerful display lighted the ship, decorating her with colors finer than all the balls and galas I had ever attended. I couldn't help but laugh. For the first time in a long while, I felt at peace.
-From the private Journal of Jean Marsanne, Ezran priest
"No, but evil is still being — Is having reason — Being reasonable! Mousie understands? Is always being reason. Is punishing world for not being... Like in head. Is always reason. World should be different, is reason."
WILL-O’-WISP, DREAD, WILL-O’-SEA
“The installation of brightly coloured buoys along the channel considerably reduced the number of vessels claimed each year by the Maiden’s Rock. And the addition to the buoys of lamps, effective in all but the thickest mist, spared many more lives. But our good work has come to naught in the last year. Ships, in all but the clearest weather, are again frequently impaling themselves upon that foul black spear. Worse, not so much as a single man has escaped the wrecks and reached the docks alive. When we find the bloated corpses terror is invariably etched upon their faces. And we know to row out in search of bodies the day after hearing thunder in the fog.”
-Milton Hargrove, Assistant Harbour Master of Paridon
“The installation of brightly coloured buoys along the channel considerably reduced the number of vessels claimed each year by the Maiden’s Rock. And the addition to the buoys of lamps, effective in all but the thickest mist, spared many more lives. But our good work has come to naught in the last year. Ships, in all but the clearest weather, are again frequently impaling themselves upon that foul black spear. Worse, not so much as a single man has escaped the wrecks and reached the docks alive. When we find the bloated corpses terror is invariably etched upon their faces. And we know to row out in search of bodies the day after hearing thunder in the fog.”
-Milton Hargrove, Assistant Harbour Master of Paridon
The cure for what ails you
WRAITH, WAR
“Beyond the Shroud there are brothers, whisperers of mortifying secrets, who have thrown off the yolk of Azalin. Would they obey or defy our lord? Are they our avant-garde or that of some even more ineluctable end to all life that readies in the Grey Realm its ascension?
-Vice-Chancellor August Montalva of the University of Il Aluk pondering his allegiance in the gathering Time of Unparalleled Darkness
“Beyond the Shroud there are brothers, whisperers of mortifying secrets, who have thrown off the yolk of Azalin. Would they obey or defy our lord? Are they our avant-garde or that of some even more ineluctable end to all life that readies in the Grey Realm its ascension?
-Vice-Chancellor August Montalva of the University of Il Aluk pondering his allegiance in the gathering Time of Unparalleled Darkness
Last edited by cure on Tue May 15, 2007 8:36 pm, edited 4 times in total.
The cure for what ails you