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Author Topic: More Nasty Ghostie Things.... for Smith if he likes...  (Read 1162 times)
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Bard Judith
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« on: 24 February 2005, 20:41:00 »


Not that I'm volunteering to write the entries, but if you'd like some more ideas for the Enclave inhabitants... :p   I've also posted them in the Meguahari thread.  

(thinks for a minute, then begins scribbling)

This is not my forte, and these ideas are just off the top of my head, so use whatever you like and toss the rest out the window!  Anything you don't want I'm sure Art will grab, as he DID ask for more ghost tales.... :devilish


The Bone Trees of Dhaedhir
(spelling? :veryconfused  )

These eerie constructs may simply be natural vegetation that has blanched in the shadowy lands of the Enclave - but it is hard to believe that when one is in the presence of a bone-white ghost-grove -  the long naked limbs with their porous pale bark rattling and clacking against each other in the chill wind, the gnarled roots like ancient fingers, the sunken-eyed knotholes where old branches have fallen to rot on the sterile sand below...   It is no wonder that the Anis-Anpagan inhabitants firmly believe them to be possessed by self-absorbed, bitter souls who will harm or maim anyone within their unnatural circles.


A evil spirit which manifests itself as a muttering foul wind, redolent of privies, vomitus, gutter-reek, and pig dung.  A garble of chattering voices comes with it, just loud enough for the tormented individual to hear profanities, curses, and angry denunciations.  Thankfully Jakenbreath can be driven off by water, whether in the form of rain, or buckets tossed to drench one by a companion, or complete immersion in any handy pond or river.  


Only abroad just before dawn and just after dusk, when the faintest of light hangs at the edges of Caelereth's disk, these lank-bellied mastiffs are hackled like wolves and fanged like snakes.  Grey ruffs of fur stand stiffly about their throats, and a ragged plume of tail lashes around each haunch.   They are said to be able to suck the blood of domestic beasts which are left out of barn or byre after nightfall.

Portal Haunts

For some reason these spectral manifestations are linked to doorways and other natural or constructed apertures.  They may be found at the thresholds of old buildings, around three trees that have fallen to form a simulation of an archway,  lurking near cave mouths, or lingering at city gates.   Mages theorize that because portals mark the boundaries, or the transition between one area and the next, these troubled spirits are somehow 'trapped' between the ethereal equivalents of the boundary lines - they can cross to neither side, just as they are 'trapped' between life and afterlife...   Perhaps because of this, they are also helpless to interfere in the actions of the living and can do no more than manifest themself visually in frightening ways.

Commonly they appear as bloody skulls, flaming hands, floating eyespheres, and other body parts, but the occasional Portal Haunt is known for its grimly creative apparitions; Old 'So-Too', who lurks at the Great East Gate of Anis-Anpagan (or wherever you like!) takes the form of a naked maiden which revolves slowly.   As one watches, the sweetly-lipped face becomes dripping with rot, the flowing tresses shrivel into dusty cobwebs floating about bony temples, the curve of a hip twists into gnarled deformity hung with ragged skin.  "So too must you.....soooo toooooo must yoooooo..." she hisses at the passing merchants, the gaping traders, the oblivious beggars, the busy housewives.


Yet another charming manifestation of the Enclave lands, the Krukulonz are nothing more than tiny pebbles at first encounter - but deceptively so. Whether these little stones get inside an unwary traveller's sandal, there to suddenly burrow against the skin to create an instant blister in which they can nest, or turn underfoot at just the wrong time to twist an ankle or pull a calf muscle, or rattle down a hill in a covey of their malicious fellow sprites to start a dustslide, the Krukulonz delight in nothing more than causing hurt and vexation.


"Give me a land of boughs in leaf /  a land of trees that stand; / where trees are fallen there is grief; /  I love no leafless land."   --A.E. Housman

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