Format-wise...:
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Site Description
Plane: (Gehena, Fire, etc)
Layer: (666, Amoria, N/A, etc)
Title (Duh)
(Site) (Leave this as is)
Hearsay. Short description
Description. Long description
Special Features. Details
Current Chant. Events, rumors, etc
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1)
Oinos, Gray Waste
The Field of Gazes
(Site)
Hearsay. Eyes, for as far as a basher can see. Floating in the air like flies, and popping out of holes in the ground like gophers on long, spongy stems, watching, and waiting for the next blood war battle to feed their numbers.
Description. The Field of Gazes is a strange, disturbing, and somewhat sparingly used battlefield. To a basic gaze, the Field is several square miles of rolling hills, with billions of pairs of eyes, of every size and description, either attached to a flexible stalks that emerge from the ground, or floating above the ground and slowly floating around, trailing limp, vein-like tendrils. Closer inspection, and a little digging, reveals that about half of the eye stalks emerge from the eye-sockets of skulls of fallen creatures, in turn connected to bare, moldering, naked skeletons of just as much variety; fiends are the, however, the most common corpses. The field itself is generally harmless. The stalked eyes bob slowly on their stems, staring silently at any passerby, or ducking down in to the ground, to get out of the way of a large foot. The floating eyes will often swarm around a traveler, looking them over, and then wandering off, never purposely touching them. If a berk dares to, they can even get away with grabbing one of the eyes out of the air, or from its stalk, and holding it, so long as there’s no attempt to crush any of them, or rip the grounded ones from their stalk; the eyes surrounding the berk will all instantly turn to look at the brave soul, but don’t seem to really mind their members being petted or poked at. The eyes also don’t seem to mind accidents, or being collateral damage; only purposeful attempts to disrupt their composition raises their defenses. It is generally accepted that, over time, the skeletons molder and decompose, freeing their eyes to float in the air, though none have managed to record such an event.
Aside from the novelty of the place, the field does provide a unique service to blood war soldiers. The field negates any form of gaze or sight-based attacked, including the petrifying gaze of medusas, or the stunning beauty of a nymph. The field seems to be quite content to add the fallen to their ranks, slowly growing with every battle.
Due to the harmless nature of the eyes, various denizens of the wastes sometimes rest or hide here, with very few animals bothering to hunt any creature within its confines, since the Field will claim any corpse that it can get a hold of, making claiming a kill somewhat difficult.
Special Features. Anyone attempting to damage any of the eyes, or remove them from the field, will quickly regret doing so. Depending on the breadth of the defense, dozens, or even hundreds of skeletons (All of which have eye stalks flailing around from their eye sockets) of any number of origins will rise from the ground, sometimes bearing magical items (which simply materialize on the skeletons), and begin attacking the offenders, trying to slay them outright, though they will not pursue anyone beyond the borders of the Field. The eyestalks will also seek to entangle, with surprising strength, while the floating eyes fly around to provide concealment for the skeletal defenders, though only the skeletons themselves are capable of any damage. Should the offender be slain, the eyes will immediately cover them, pulling them down, where their flesh, clothing, and equipment ‘dissolve’, covering them in a layer of soil; beyond their bones, only their eyes remain, rising from eyestalks within a few minutes (the same fate goes for any corpse that falls within the Field). When their duty is complete, the skeletons collapse on to the ground once again, sinking in to the soil and resuming their normal gazing habits, as their magical items dissolve in to thin air yet again, from wherever the Field keeps them; the skeletons will only turn on the offender’s fellows if they have offended themselves, or if they interfere in the battle. While they appear to function as normal skeletons, the Field’s protectors do not show any actual traits of being undead. Eyes separated from the field become inert, and decompose like normal eyes, as if freshly plucked from a living being.
Current Chant. While the Field of Eyes is not a very important place in the Blood War, it has captured the imagination of its share of sages, and bone-box rattlers, and not a few adventurers, at that. The origins of the Field are often believed to involve an army of beholders that were decimated by some unknown force, possibly whatever fiendish power could manage to keep such powerful creatures under their heel for any length of time. Many necromancers and blood war recruiters have shown interest in the area as a source of an undead army, or as a clue to making unturnable servants (Some have suggested that the whole place is the Gray Waste making its own form of undead, utilizing its own nature, rather than negative energy). Adventurers are usually more interested in where, exactly, the untold numbers of magical items that the location might carry. There have also been rumors, recently, that a mixed group of night hags and yugoloths have taken to ‘harvesting’ the eyes, gathering them in nets, or pruning them from stems, then dropping off cartloads of corpses in to the Field, before leaving. How this apparent transaction has come about, and what benefit the yugoloths and night hags gain from the gathered eyes remains a matter of speculation.
I've got a few sites of my own, and I'll try to add them in the next day or so. Got a bunch of rl work at the moment that takes precident.
Hopefully the idea comes across well enough, despite.
She's the cutest cog in the cosmos. :D
Plane: Limbo
Layer: Varies
Danamarina the Living Gear
(Site)
Hearsay. A large, sentient piece of Mechanus, lost in the primordial soup of Limbo.
Description. Danamarina the Living Gear is a gear from Mechanus, approximately a mile and a half in radius, and a hundred feet thick. On one side, at her center, a single, great, human-like, blue-irised eye emerges from her, rising twenty feet above her surface. Her underside bears a circular, toothy maw of equal size, surrounded by five tentacles, evenly spaced around the orifice, that can extend up to a hundred feet from their base. Danamarina’s surface is usually surrounded by a concealing cloud of chaos matter, maintained as camoflauge for the otherwise noticeable outsider. Danamarina herself is fully sentient, in fact, she is more intelligent than many outsiders, and discourses through a stern, but warm and notably feminine voice that reverberates across her entire surface. She has used this vast, and seemingly growing intellect to become a powerful anarch, manipulating the chaos matter around her for protection, transportation, and general utility. Danamarina has the occasional visitor, either friends or friendly informants, whom she provides shelter for in exchange for company and information.
Danamarina’s history is clouded, as she herself has scant memories of her origin. The basics story, as she speaks of it, is that she began as simply another gear in Mechanus, until some immense rise in chaos on her surface caused her to shift to Limbo, where she later became self-aware, and took on her current form. She is uncertain how long it was between her descent from Mechanus and her emergance in Limbo, and whether or not it was direct, or after passing through several planes. What she does know, however, is that outside of Limbo, she will not be nearly as powerful as she now is as an anarch in Limbo, and would possibly even revert to non-sentience. To make sure this never happens, and, some say, to sate a growing sense of hunger within her, she slowly draws in and consumes chaos matter through her massive maw, making sure that chaos lies within and without, while battling to keep control over it just the same.
Special Features. Danamarina’s stay in Limbo has made her a truly unique specimen, and has also slowly made her more in tune with the plane itself. While her alignment has remained a relatively steady lawful neutral, her ability to comprehend other alignments is quickly surpassing that of even the most advanced modrons, and has gained a hint of whimsy to her personality, such that she will even play the rare prank on friends who know her well enough to trust her, using her powerful anarch abilities to create temporary constructs, such as banana peels or mice, though she’s quick to make it up to her allies. The stain of Limbo has even made her, or so it seems, a sort of native, as the few attempts to banish her back to her home plane have failed. Interestingly, any sentient being that alights on her surface or floats within her area of influence is capable of speaking with any similar entity, as if they shared a language, just as if they were in Mechanus. This is part of the reason that Danamarina has managed to gain allies in the harsh environs.
Current Chant. For those that know of the Living Gear, there is much speculation to be had. Those sages that know of or have spoken with her have posited several theories as to her past, present, and future nature. Some have claimed that her constant feeding will cause her to grow, either in to a larger, more powerful version of her current self, or possibly even cause her to evolve in to some entirely new being, or even a power (the claim usually depends on how much bub a lanned blood has had). Some have even suggested (claiming her female personality to be a sign of it) that she is capable of reproduction, either on her own, or with some mysterious other. The more imaginative have even suggested that she is fated to be the bride of Primus, though even the Danamarina finds the idea worth chuckling about.
Layer: Pelion
The Plain of Blades
(Site)
Hearsay An empty field covered in massive weapons of every kind.
Description.
In the white dust of Pelion there lies an area referred to as the Plain of Blades. A four or five square miles in area the plain is littered with massive bladed weapons of all types. These weapons are all embedded in the waste deep dust point first. The smallest blade appears to be made for a being many times the size of a man. The largest are so tall that even the most ancient of Wyrms are dwarfed by their height.
Most of the weapons are swords. Scimitars, longswords, bastard swords, swords of every conceivable type can be found on the Plane. Scattered here and there are polearms and even a stray mace or other non-bladed weapon.
The tallest of the weapons is a glave of massive proportions. The glaive reaches so high into the sky that some say that it is as infinite as the Spire of the Outlands. This is called the "Staff of Misery" by the inhabitants of the area, an encampment of Bladelings numbering only two dozen or so. These bladelings call themselves "The Children of the Blades" and claim to have no knowledge of the Acheronian bladelings.
Special Features.
All of the weapons in the Plain are composed of a seemingly unbreakable material. Bladed weapons that are touched to any of the massive blades vanish, appearing nearby as much larger replicas of the original.
The blades themselves are impossible to remove from the ground. Attempts to remove the blades provoke the ire of the bladelings who attack the molesters with reckless abandon. Despite the number of bladelings killed in combat, two dozen bladelings always exist in the area as guardians.
Current Chant. Events, rumors, etc
A Lesser Power of Destruction named Tomalius lost his magical sword NightSlayer to the Plain and now he wants it back. Tomalius seeks magic to make himself powerful enough to retrieve his blade from the Plain.
It is whispered that the bladelings that dwell on the Plain are waiting for their savior to arrive. This figure, an enigmatic creature that embodies the spirit of the Plain is said to dwell atop the Staff of Misery, and when she descends she will lead her people to remake the Multiverse in their own image. A figure, atop an infinitely tall pole, embodying the essence of blades? Ringing any bells, berk?