days one through three were largely uneventful. balphus played cards with some guys, atahwa got a piece of ass, they met a cool shepard, they stayed at a monstic brewery & still managed to be bitchy to the helpful & nice brewest monks! but then came the flooded swamps. balphus kept failing his fort saves & was fatigued; they at one point scared off a giant owl that wanted to eat their mule. so far, so good. the players are canny! they have survival skills & are probing ahead with their polearms! they have got this swamp thing sorted out. except...ghosts! or zombie-ghosts! or the clutchy corpses of murder victims. but they've gone a little down that road! bernie had told me he wanted to explore the artist side of his character...so i naturally thought of forensics. what!? so they got the broach & made it past the swamps & into the forest.bbwhich is where i had my great coup, if mike is any judge. the sinister windchimes! metal, cooled into shapes not possible with a crystaline structure. metal, unbreakable, dagger-shattering. windchimes, singing 1/pi notes instead of 1/25 notes. you know i mean unearthly when i say it. i mean alien as all fuck out. i mean windchimes, i mean your compass is broken & now only points to here instead of north. be creeped out & go investigate again! then FUCK with it, go on i dare you. poor little mule. he had to be made an example of. well at least the players scurried away without bothering to salvage their tent, at least they made their will saves...all to get to the little thorpe of dolebury.
then...vagina faced boy! or well, it is like a vagina, ringed with eyes, & cillia that double as both eyelids/moisteners & mouth-parts.
i opened the book just the once to find out the radius of light shed by a lantern. 30'