The lithe humanoid bears the vague impression of a nose and a black-glass lens the forehead above it. This device runs the length of the synth lenser's cranium and fully replaces its eyes. At first glance, one might think this is due to a pale cloth drawn tight over its visage, but whenever the creature moves its plain that is some sort of artificial skin. The rest of its body is a smooth crimson shell of molded musculature. Raised, thicker and darker patches of skin form intricate patterns across its shoulders, down its spine and each arm. The synth lenser wears simple clothing, a crossed halter with spaulders attached; bracers and boots of a barbaric design. However, these accessories are crafted from materials not of this sphere. It’s left forearm is dominated by a thick bracer made of a strange, yellow metal etched with alien symbols. With a thought, the bracer rapidly unfolds like flower petals into a sigiled katar and back again. Spotter. The synth lenser's pu...

Session Twenty Seven: The Tomb of Ipqu-Annunitum An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary The heroes surveyed the foreboding edifice of a tomb dating back to the fall of the Empire of Enuk’Lun from the ridge above. Past a flight of wide stairs lay a large depression in the earth covered in dead trees and clinging mist. Within that stretch of land wandered terrible creatures made from twisted vegetation and humanoid skulls, lichbloom (reskinned nothics with a gaze attack, no secret steeling and plants instead). The miscreations wandered around a giant specter that watched the area from within a runic circle, the edges of said circle flanked by four Grim Visages of Enuk’lun facing inward. Despite the distance, Ea the bearfolk wizard determined that the magic circle had summoned the massive apparition, but it was the inward-facing Grim Visages that bound it into place. If all f...

The lithe humanoid is without any distinct facial features other than the vague impression of a nose and indents where eyes should be; though there is a golden glow implies ocular organs of some sort under its epidermis. At first glance, one might think this is due to a pale cloth drawn tight over its visage, but whenever the creature moves its plain that is some sort of artificial skin. The rest of its body is a smooth crimson shell of molded musculature. Raised, thicker and darker patches of skin form intricate patterns across its shoulders, down its spine and each arm. The synth sanitizer wears simple clothing, a crossed halter with spaulders attached; bracers and boots of a barbaric design. However, these accessories are crafted from materials not of this sphere. It’s left forearm is dominated by a thick bracer made of a strange, yellow metal etched with alien symbols. With a thought, the bracer rapidly unfolds like flower petals to form a sturdy shield or return to its bas...

Session Twenty Six: The Blood-Soaked Woods An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary Contracted to deal with a menace outside of the village of Tichner Fork, the heroes first returned to the Smuggler’s Boot Tavern to glean some more information from the locals about the blood-thirsty menace they faced. The party settled in to talk with the bearfolk barkeep Jun. The spectacle-wearing agriothier still lamented the terrible death of his dear friend the night before, Osswec who owned the bar. The staff and usual patrons were subdued as well. However, Jun wanted to help. A learned fellow, he’d rifled through his library for any clues about the wendigo that had struck the night before. While born in exile from the Agriother Warlords to the south, Jun had vaguely heard tales of such horrors before. His research yielded valuable information that Jun shared with the party. When the Em...

Marrowborn Cystern An alien landscape of slow death and excruciating pain, a cystern serves as a lair for the infectious undead known as the marrowborn. A cystern can be constructed just about anywhere by a Marrowborn Empress , though the matriarchal monster seeks out locations with a few requirements in mind. These are in order of this priority; covertness, defensibility, spaciousness, and mobility. As such most cysterns are created within abandoned fortresses or dank caverns that are reasonably close to humanoid populations. The empress needs those poor souls to create Marrowborn Pawns from their skeletal structure. However, the cystern may be formed within the sewer system underneath a major city, the depths of a steaming jungle, or the hull of a listing galleon along a shipping route. Sometimes, an empress may found a chain of cysterns to better propagate her brood and ensure it would be very difficult to wipe them all out. The interior of the cystern is a grand, profane cath...

Session Twenty Five: Assault on the Smuggler's Boots Tavern An untamed frontier. Dark cults. Fickle fey gods. Ravenous fiends. Nothing black powder and sorcery won't fix... . Timberlands Campaign Diary The Smuggler’s Boots Inn and Tavern was cast into darkness and compromised by eldritch forces. Strange stickmen (reskinned/buffed Scarecrows) molded themselves from the building’s wooden doors, windowpanes, and rafters. The lurching figures were covered with pitch-black bark that was molded over by screaming faces, their faces featureless save for large, hollow sockets full with pale witchlight. The heroes and civilians scrambled to draw their weapons or cover as the assault began. Riley, the changeling dervish, dashed for the backdoor where three stickmen spawned. They were unprepared for the mystical dread that sparked within the figures’ eyes and froze up, only to be shortly assailed by claws made from razored roots. Sykes, the eladrian rogue, suffered too and found he...

The marrowborn partisan is a near-absurd miscreation. Its upper half is the skeleton of the warhorse it was born from, the mottled bones scribed with alien runes. What remains if its pilfered organs hang like ruptured pupae beneath swelled ribs with a grinning-humanoid skull where a heart should be. The partisan's head still retains an equine shape as well, though it is one smooth plate of osseous matter with a jaw fused shut by opaque cartilage. Instead of a horses hind, the marrowborn's vertebra have expanded out and resemble something close to centipede segments complete with appendages made of skeletal, human legs. Cadaverous Cavalry. The marrowborn partisans are born from both a warhorse and a humanoid, often its rider. The marrowborn hive slits open the poor beast and stuffs the cyst-implanted humanoid into its core. As the horror gestates, the two creatures fuse together before tearing free of the hosts as one chimerical undead. The Marrowborn Empress. deploys the...