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Dwelling in desolate areas of the countryside—dismal swamps, wind-blasted moors and diseased woods—banshees exist to harm and kill the living.

Outside the Lair

The sounds of wildlife—and the wildlife itself—are curiously absent from the surroundings.
A faint, cold mist drifts from the banshee’s haunt to spread its malign influence through the area.
A dense copse of withered trees stands out from the surroundings; within, the sunlight holds little sway.
Wan sunlight does little to dispel the gloom and almost supernatural chill suffusing the area.

What’s Going On?

A faint, high-pitched screaming comes from some distant part of the area; the banshee is far away.
A cold wind plucks at the characters’ cloaks, cutting right through them to chill the characters’ bones.
Pregnant storm clouds rumble ominously overhead, seemingly ready to burst at any moment.
A dismal rain blankets the area; the droplets are unnaturally cold.

Major Lair Features

No animal life whatsoever is present in the banshee’s haunt, and even the vegetation looks sickly.
Bones and rusting or rotting equipment dot the banshee’s lair. In places, the rubbish and ruin of previous groups is almost ankle-deep.
Thick, cloying fog hangs throughout the area, reducing visibility to mere feet. Flecks of grey dust float through the fog.
A humanoid figure lies motionless on the ground, its pale face frozen in an expression of abject horror.

Minor Lair Features

The leaves on the trees and bushes are colourless and thin—faint light cast through them throws odd shadows on the ground.
Puddles dot the area; the water within is stagnant, oily and in no way safe to drink.
Wisps of mist cling to the low-lying areas of the haunt—resisting the efforts of wind and sun to dissipate them.
A small gully hides a stream, frozen solid; its tiny waterfalls festooned with shimmering icicles.

Banshee’s Appearance

The translucent figure of a skeletally thin black-haired elven woman hovers inches above the ground. An expression of hate mars her angular face.
Cloaked in a flowing white dress, ripped and torn in places, this otherworldly woman’s keen, elvish eyes are filled with malice.
Floating just above the ground is a spectre both fair and foul, her incredible beauty transformed by a hateful expression into a monstrous perversion of grace.
Long-dried tears of rage and resentment streak this ghostly woman’s twisted face; her cavernous mouth hangs wide open.

Treasure

Among a pile of rusted and rotted equipment lies a silver holy symbol untouched by any decay.
The bony finger of a rotting human skeleton bears an ornate golden ring studded with a violet gemstone.
An exquisite silver mirror lies discarded in a small puddle. The glass has been violently smashed, but the well-crafted frame still holds value.
Folded into the pocket of a lifeless human is a small, hand-drawn map of the area; detailed drawings show the path to a location the characters are trying to reach.

Trinkets & Trash

A rusting suit of chain armour encases the slender skeleton of an elf (or, perhaps, a thin human).
Fragments of a shattered glass vial lie scattered on the ground; any remnants of the liquid held within have long since vanished.
A leather pack hangs from the low branch of a tree. It holds nothing but rotting clothes and the like.
A mouldy haversack hides a tattered, leather-bound tome, its pages waterlogged and writing unintelligible, save for a few lingering characters in the elven script.

Credit

This is a short system-neutral extract from Monstrous Lair #97: Banshee’s Haunt by Christopher Broadhurst.

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