Miasmal Forest: Difference between revisions

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The hoarse croak of a gore crow breaks the silence. The thick fog makes it impossible to tell the direction from which it came.
The hoarse croak of a gore crow breaks the silence. The thick fog makes it impossible to tell the direction from which it came.

From out of the dense fog comes an eerie howling, as if someone or something is in grievous pain. The forlorn sound increases in volume and pitch, until the voice can no longer sustain it and it breaks.


The soft 'whuffing' of wings attracts your attention. A single gore crow flies by, heading northeast.
The soft 'whuffing' of wings attracts your attention. A single gore crow flies by, heading northeast.

Revision as of 09:00, 18 October 2008

The Miasmal Forest is across Maelstrom Bay from River's Rest. There are two mazes in the Miasmal Forest.

Oteska's Shrine is located in the northeastern corner of the Miasmal Forest. Marsh Keep is located in the southeast corner.

Indigenous Creatures

Messaging

Lightning

Occasionally lightning strikes in the Miasmal Forest. If it hits you, it may cause a minor wound.

The stink of sulphur seems to drift down from the fog overhead. A moment later the fog is illuminated by slow moving, blue-tinted arcs of lightning. A muted sizzling sound crackles overhead.

A narrow finger of blue-tinted lightning streaks out of the fog, striking your vultite sica! The air crackles and pops. Bright spots dance before your eyes. The stink of sulphur is intense.

You are dazed by the light!
Roundtime: 6 sec.

The acrid smell of your own singed hair fills your nostrils.

Mood messaging

The rhythmic, basso belch of a bullfrog resounds through the fog.

The hoarse croak of a gore crow breaks the silence. The thick fog makes it impossible to tell the direction from which it came.

From out of the dense fog comes an eerie howling, as if someone or something is in grievous pain. The forlorn sound increases in volume and pitch, until the voice can no longer sustain it and it breaks.

The soft 'whuffing' of wings attracts your attention. A single gore crow flies by, heading northeast.

A small cloud of gnats passes by. The whirring of their tiny wings is like a plaintive whine.

A soft mewling can be heard in the distance...perhaps a bog cat crying, perhaps a child weeping. The dense fog makes any attempt to ascertain the direction of the sound futile.