Session Three Deeper into the Ziggurat An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary After a brief respite the party of explorers struck back out into the winding halls of the ancient ziggurat once more. It wasn't long, though, before they realized that during their rest the ruin's guardians had awoken. In a room previously explored they ran into a wandering Abriter of Enuk'lun (reskinned Earth Elemental Myrmidon) and then in the adjoining hall a Watcher of Enuk'lun (reskinned flameskull) assailed them. Beaten and burned the heroes moved with great caution, voiding further constructs and undead as best they could. They discovered a crystal sculpture of the sorcerer-king Enuk'lun, in all his glory with one foot up on a pyramid of his rival's skulls. The sculpture had a hand outstretched in an odd way and a trace of conjuration magic upon it. They only

Screecher Hunt, Continued. An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary After taking a brief respite in the ruins where they encountered strigiarpies last session, the heroes forged ahead toward their goal. The unspoiled ziggurat sat atop a bluff up ahead, but first, they had to deal with another flock of the strigiarpies. The party's bard, Gwaedd distracted the nested monstrosities with a well-placed spell. While they were hypnotized the rogue and monk swiftly finished them off. However, the rogue, Psykes, had already scouted ahead and discovered a sleeping screecher nearby. The heroes tried hard not to wake the owl-like abomination, but their plan was foiled when one of the strigiarpies got off a scream. The ranger, Wild, already had his bow ready, however. He sank shafts into the ghostly raptor. However, the beastie didn't fall so an illusion of a larger sc

Illuminated by its spectral, green feathers this massive predator literally soars through the darkest thickets. The owl-like creature's body ripples as it flies through tree branches and trunks as an apparition would. However, when the screecher strikes, its prey discovers it is terribly substantial after all. Flaked horns rise from the sides of the screecher's brow, giving it a horned owl-profile, and it's head can swivel nearly all the way about like that natural species. Its eyes are not like an owl's exactly, while they are round and dominated most of its flat face they are red, translucent orbs that cast a distorted reflection of whatever they spy. To round out the monstrosity's terrible mien their claws are five-fingered with skin so tight over bone that they appear skeletal. Necrotic Mutation. Folklore says that the screechers resulted from an arcane disaster, of sorts. A necromancer cult took up residence in the dark heart of the woods. By all account

The pint-size fey fairly imitates a human child. The dire moppet's head is a covered with a messy mop of straw-colored hair that nearly covers pointed ear tips. Its nails are blood-red and hooked. The latchkey's nose is a bit too sharp, its mouth a bit too small; at least until it giggles. The latchkey's mirth stretches its mouth from ear-to-ear and sounds like a doorchime and giggle mixed. It's teeth are wide and square. The terror-tot wears a smock patched with bright-colored swatches and tall boots with elfin toes. Thief in the Night. While latchkeys are naturally mischievous creatures who adore scaring the life out of mortals, they more often prowl the material plane at the behest of a fey noble. Sometimes, they are sent in to scout out points of interest so the noble's other retainers know what trouble they might encounter when securing the area. Their usual tasks, however, center around pilfering items or mortal children the greater fey desires. The la

Screecher Hunt An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary The heroes were assembled by their employer, the satyr Alram Coldblade, and offered a dual-tasked job. Alram's brother, the scholarly Hemm, had tracked down information about a ziggurat ruin from the era of the fallen Empire of Enuk'lun that may contain unspoiled treasures and make a fine structure for a new settlement to be built around. Alram asked the player characters to travel to the location first and ensure it was cleansed of any traps and ancient horrors and then signal Hemm and his crew in to begin mapping the area. In addition, the area is said to be haunted by an exceptionally large, powerful screecher. Alram scrounged up a buyer for the gizzard of the ghostly owl-thing and part of the party's contract is to slay the monstrosity and deliver the harvested part to the buyer. Anxious for adventu

Born of artifice and necromancy, the machine creaks about on three steel wheels; one on front and two on the backend. Within a frame of pitted coffin wood lays a ghastly core made from the disembodied mouths of those who once laid in the despoiled vessels. Stripes of runic bones cover the top of the deplorable contraption. These ossuary lines converge into a grisly antenna bound by burned bolts and glued together by blood honey. The ground-up agony of the ghastly mulcher's victims swirls sickly red around this antenna. Lastly, a rusty crane arm with a barbed pincher dangles like an angler fish's lure before the construct's maw; a seared steel grate. Charnel Garden Tool. While animus artisans versed in necromancy assemble the ghastly mulcher it's the waning court's hive crofters who utilize them. The abominable gardeners want to make sure their corrupted glades are always in full bloom and feed a multitude of victims to ghastly mulchers for fertilizer. The

Without as much as a rattle the construct goes about its work despite being cobbled together from stolen bones and lightning seared metal. The top of its body is built from an upside down rib cage and spine, the spaces between ribs are filled with near-translucent amber. Warm, viscous blood honey sloshes about within this grisly chalice. Rising up from its inverted shoulder blades are iron-hafted arms of bundled humerus, radius and ulna. One hand ends in a drill of magic-hardened amber as hard as diamond; the other a long-fingered mitt. A stained humanoid skull sits where the sternum would be. Its legs are completely metal and reverse-jointed like a goat. Malignant Miner. The muscilages are built and deployed by animus artisans who've also dipped their toes into necromancy. The diminutive constructs buzz about direfly hives that have become voluminous, petrified buildings. The muscilges' drills sculpt as per a fey architect's direction and transform the dead hi