Anyone have a story to tell in the meantime?

Has anyone here ever heard of The Twisting Withers? Aside from the slow and steady hoof falls of the large draft horses against the ancient stone road, or the continuous creaking of the nearly as ancient caravan wagons' wheels, Horace was sure he couldn't hear anything at all.

In the fading autumn light, all he could see for miles around were the silhouettes of enormous petrified trees, having stood dead now for centuries, but still refusing to fall.

Their bark had turned an unnatural and oddly lustrous black, one that seemed almost liquid as it glistened in whatever light happened to gleam off its surface.

They seemed more like geysers of oil that had burst forth from the earth, only to freeze in place before a single drop could fall back to the ground, never to melt again.

Aside from those forsaken and foreboding trees, the land was desolate and gray, with tendrils of cold and damp mist lazily snaking their way over the hills and through the forest.

Nothing grew here, and yet it was said that some twisted creatures still lingered, as unable to perish as the accursed trees themselves.

You've really gone and done it now