Mists of Crimson Death

There is a place in Thera where the snow never stops. There is a place in Thera where ice covers the land and beasts hide under its crust. There is a place in Thera called Winter... and holds it many wonders. Many days I spent traveling that God Forsaken place. Many dangers I have encountered. At last, I came across a place where Mists abide, the Mists of Crimson Death.

Quite scary creatures they are... but fascinating nevertheless. Upon looking at one I saw that it is nothing but: a formless mass of decay smelling air ..that seems strangely alive and malevolent. Inside I saw the hundreds of faces of the people who have fell victim to this nameless creature. Even inside the mist, the souls call out for help drawing you nearer.

And near the mists I got and swallowed me they did. And nightmares I saw. The nightmares that only drow shamans see as they stick pins into their voodoo dolls.

A times, the Mists leave their frozen lands and travel to the warmer climates. Old wives use their unimaginable drawings to scare little children, but at times a picture comes alive, and a fear becomes reality, as a mist withdraws from the image and swallows the child whole.