Creative Juices time…
Using the idea of “Impressions” from Dungeon Starters, what are some impressions that demons, demon pacts and demon worship summon up in your minds?
Creative Juices time…
Creative Juices time…
Using the idea of “Impressions” from Dungeon Starters, what are some impressions that demons, demon pacts and demon worship summon up in your minds?
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Circles of sand, their lines spelling out the vilest of words.
Whispering from the shadows.
The tallest candles you’ve ever seen.
An unholy choir of misled orphans.
A clearing in the woods, ringed with the eyes of the night’s watchers.
Possessed villagers, all corrupted and innocent.
That guy, you know the kind – he just doesn’t know when to quit.
A black dog and her puppies.
Another damned crossroad.
Cowled figures in secret cellars, hung with velvet
Desecrated shrine, stained with blood
Gruesome death in the night
Secret handshakes.
Listen to this while writing material: Whisper 32: Genesis in Latin
An ally screaming and being torn apart as an invisible demon kills him.
A corrupted, demon-possessed bishop at the head of an army.
The pope and the emperor, appearing in triumph together.
A fallen angel, mourning in chains.
A massive barbed demon, astride the battlefield with foes impaled on his body.
Demonic tides howling outside the city walls, besieging the city.
A doom cursed wedding with a befuddled groom.
A charming man, extending a hand, his palm cut and bleeding.
A fool sits on the throne, while wisdom is chained below.
Hair on the backs of your arms stands up, the air tastes coppery and charged.
What you desire is right in front of you, what you fear is just out of sight.
A crowd with eyes as dull as stone, their hearts are kept in a large copper box.
A man crying in desperation as he watches the sun set. He has only minutes left before she comes for him.
The spot won’t wash off her hand, she rubs it idly even while she lies about her father, her husband, and her brother.
There is a weight of three thousand years behind its eyes. Where it used to look at mortals with greed, now it only looks with envy and pity.
The deal is always he same. The offer is anything you desire. The cost is everything you have.
The scales are balanced. On one side is the souls of one hundred and one evil men. On the other is the soul of one good man.
She says you must leave. She says you stink of bitter iron and the bile of prayer.