HOME | DD

Description

There is a part of that temperate rainforest that no local dares to tread. A large chunk of its map has been blacked out, as if it is a curse to acknowledge its existence. People won't speak of it, the only words granted to this condemned land are scrawled on the numerous warning signs circling its borders. Such fear and avoidance would make one think that this piece of forest is cursed, haunted by evil spirits. The tales seem to treat it so, claiming that all who set foot in this horrid lair shall die a tortured death. That your fate is sealed when you hear that terrible howl shatter the silent forest. Many scoff at such stories, but such dismissal will start to weaken when they approach the edge of this wretched place. The many rotting signs covered in feverish scratches and warnings, the abandoned belongings of those who broke and fled in fear. After walking through the lively rainforest to reach this border, you will notice how all falls silent when you approach. There is life to be found in the ferns, moss and trees, but no creature dwells among them. No birds fluttering through the branches, no frogs croaking in the flowing streams, and not a single beast crashes through the undergrowth. It is all silent and still.

After experiencing this haunted dread for themselves, many turn back, but some fools choose to conquer this unseen evil. They gather their wits and courage, then march in, perhaps thinking they can prove the legends wrong. They will find the truth to this cursed land, either it being nothing but silly superstition or a mortal foe that can be slain. This answer, sadly, has yet to be found. Despite the dozens who plunge into this silent forest, none live long enough to find its source. Many never return, the curse swallowing them completely. Some, however, claw their way back to civilization, but they are no longer welcome. The locals fear this land, as well as those who tread it. Return, and you will find nothing but sealed gates and flaming arrows greeting you. They will offer no sanctuary or aid, only the promise of a quick death. No matter how much they plead and beg, they will be granted no hope. They will be cut down and their remains burned to ash. But the ramblings of the condemned bring scraps of what lies in that rotted heart. They babble about the things they have seen, the towering stalks and the swallowed corpses. Bodies split and buried beneath tendrils and clusters, almost as if the very forest itself has feasted on them. The ground is littered with drained bodies, the trees are coated in quivering moldy webs. All around them is death, but they see no foe. Not a living beast to be found, but then they hear that howl. They reach for their blades and bows, but they will do them no good. Only after a moment of panicked preparation will they realize that this roar is nothing but the wind. Just a simple breeze blowing through the reaching stalks and curtained trees. They will then think it was all a trick, just a boogeyman conjured by superstitious minds. Such explanations may bring comfort, but that will be nothing when they begin to cough...

Those who step foot in that cursed forest are doomed. From the moment they hear that howl, their life is forfeit. The earth is covered in carcasses and the air is filled with nothing but death...

-------------------------------------------------------

"Death's Bed: The Bed That Sleeps"

A deviant Mossy Sleeper! Something so slow and lazy couldn't possibly be dangerous, unless something extra nasty grew on the sluggish beast.

Description

There is a part of that temperate rainforest that no local dares to tread. A large chunk of its map has been blacked out, as if it is a curse to acknowledge its existence. People won't speak of it, the only words granted to this condemned land are scrawled on the numerous warning signs circling its borders. Such fear and avoidance would make one think that this piece of forest is cursed, haunted by evil spirits. The tales seem to treat it so, claiming that all who set foot in this horrid lair shall die a tortured death. That your fate is sealed when you hear that terrible howl shatter the silent forest. Many scoff at such stories, but such dismissal will start to weaken when they approach the edge of this wretched place. The many rotting signs covered in feverish scratches and warnings, the abandoned belongings of those who broke and fled in fear. After walking through the lively rainforest to reach this border, you will notice how all falls silent when you approach. There is life to be found in the ferns, moss and trees, but no creature dwells among them. No birds fluttering through the branches, no frogs croaking in the flowing streams, and not a single beast crashes through the undergrowth. It is all silent and still.

After experiencing this haunted dread for themselves, many turn back, but some fools choose to conquer this unseen evil. They gather their wits and courage, then march in, perhaps thinking they can prove the legends wrong. They will find the truth to this cursed land, either it being nothing but silly superstition or a mortal foe that can be slain. This answer, sadly, has yet to be found. Despite the dozens who plunge into this silent forest, none live long enough to find its source. Many never return, the curse swallowing them completely. Some, however, claw their way back to civilization, but they are no longer welcome. The locals fear this land, as well as those who tread it. Return, and you will find nothing but sealed gates and flaming arrows greeting you. They will offer no sanctuary or aid, only the promise of a quick death. No matter how much they plead and beg, they will be granted no hope. They will be cut down and their remains burned to ash. But the ramblings of the condemned bring scraps of what lies in that rotted heart. They babble about the things they have seen, the towering stalks and the swallowed corpses. Bodies split and buried beneath tendrils and clusters, almost as if the very forest itself has feasted on them. The ground is littered with drained bodies, the trees are coated in quivering moldy webs. All around them is death, but they see no foe. Not a living beast to be found, but then they hear that howl. They reach for their blades and bows, but they will do them no good. Only after a moment of panicked preparation will they realize that this roar is nothing but the wind. Just a simple breeze blowing through the reaching stalks and curtained trees. They will then think it was all a trick, just a boogeyman conjured by superstitious minds. Such explanations may bring comfort, but that will be nothing when they begin to cough...

Those who step foot in that cursed forest are doomed. From the moment they hear that howl, their life is forfeit. The earth is covered in carcasses and the air is filled with nothing but death...

-------------------------------------------------------

"Death's Bed: The Bed That Sleeps"

A deviant Mossy Sleeper! Something so slow and lazy couldn't possibly be dangerous, unless something extra nasty grew on the sluggish beast.