“The old fool was not as foolish as we had predicted,” your contact whispers. “He did take it to his grave, but not in the way we thought! He created a written copy of the ritual, but encased it in his glass eye.”
“Perfect,” you say. “All we need to do is dig up his body and the vault will be ours for the plundering.”
“Alas, it is not that simple. His body was never found, but I do know the last area in which he was last seen…”
Weakened by the withering effects of the dark hills your party has traversed, you feel the need to break the silence. “Tell me again, why is this place called The Plains of Sorrow?” The quiet chuckle you expect from the group absent, you turn around to see their attention fastened dead ahead. Through the dim light of dusk you squint and barely make out the object at which they stare, a huge ancient tree silhouetted against the horizon. This is your target.
Closer now then you ever wanted to be, the aged hardwood looms over your friends like an old angry god. Not normally comfortable in the forest, this tree especially unnerves you due to the notable feature missing from it. Leaves. In its place, hundreds of full skeletons hang like ornaments on decorated scenery. The only noise breaking the silence, the clatter of withered bones in the breeze.
“Who is climbing it?” The cleric blurts out, startling you all.
“Not me!” The response rings out in unison.
Standing alone on a hill amidst the barren wilderness, this ancient tree sits in silent vigil waiting for it’s next meal. Aware of it’s prey’s weakness for the shiny and the sharp, a vast array of treasure rests along it’s base, inviting the brave to venture a little too close.
Standing nearly 250′ tall, this testament to the foolishness and greed of adventurers ordains its branches with their bones. If you can hear the clatter of the bleached skeletons in the breeze, it is too late.
Download The Bonewillow…