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To the Underdeeps

Haunt of the Perytons

old ruined tower

Deep in the heart of the Old Wood, where the river runs slow and dark, there is a place forgotten. And if ever you should tread the moss grown paths and long lost tracks to its eerie courtyard, remember well the warnings you heard.

Dwelt there an age ago, a twisted mind, a soul sold to Dark Devices and caught up by the Magic of Night. Wrought there, an age ago, torment and suffering for the persuit of selfish desire whose bounds knew no limits. Tormented there, an age ago, abominations crafted with hideous incantations offered up to Dream Spawned Terrors. Doomed there, an age ago, the follower grown too sure of his own ability.

That misery tower, where once a twisted mage worked his strange incantations, holds many secrets. Many arcane experiments went on in its seclusion, hidden from an untrusting world. Calling forth Dark powers with binding rituals, the mage channeled magical spirits of the Underworld to his work. Twisting nature was his game, forging blood and sinue with bark and root, forcing hoof and beak to meld as one, grafting wing with claw, fang to feather, brain and brawn. But the perils of Dark worship are many, and the Rituals hard to master. And in his self importance, the mage became lax, and his incantations became flawed, binding the Powers he tapped with bonds no longer strong and sure.

His terrible cries were lost in the twisted wilderness that shrouded his lonely laboratory, heard by no living soul and headed not by those others that lurked in the dark and gloom he had created.

And now? When you hear the wail of the banshee in the dark wood, do not tarry! For the hauntings and apparitions are the fruits of a mad mans labours, and they are as twisted as the mind that concieved of them, and as dark as the powers that made them.

The woods and delves around the tower are home to strange unearthly crossbreads. Owlbears stalk the woods where Dark Trees cast their shadows, Leucrotta hunt Catoblepas in small packs, DarkenBeasts scurry and flit in the gloom, preying on the unwary. And in the old ruins of the tower itself live a group of Perytons, dark, brooding and dangerous.

So when you hear some ungodly screech or otherworldly roar, check your weapons, double your guard and, with haste, retrace your steps to safety.

Winner of the Legendgames / Valkyrie map competition.

  All images and text copyright 2000
Permission is granted for personal use only.