Scarecrow
In the eerie and haunting land of Barovia, where shadows seem to dance with malevolence and a perpetual mist shrouds the landscape, a peculiar and unsettling sight awaits the unsuspecting traveler. As you cautiously approach a gnarled, ancient tree, its twisted branches seem to reach out like skeletal fingers, attempting to ensnare anything that comes too close. Beneath the ominous tree, a scarecrow stands guard, or rather, slumps in a haphazard manner against the rough bark. Its form is a grotesque amalgamation of tattered, weather-beaten fabric that barely clings to a skeletal frame made of old, weathered wood. The once-bright colors of the scarecrow's attire have faded into a dull, muted palette, echoing the desolation that permeates Barovia. What sets this scarecrow apart from the ordinary, however, is its stuffing – a macabre collection of jet-black raven's feathers. The feathers protrude from tears and openings in the fabric, creating a surreal and unsettling spectacle. It's as if the crows of Barovia have willingly contributed their plumage to this twisted guardian, imparting an otherworldly and ominous aura to the scene. The scarecrow's face, or what remains of it, is a canvas of faded horror. A crudely painted expression of eternal anguish seems etched into the fabric, with vacant eyes that gaze into the distance, as if witnessing some eldritch horror that lies beyond mortal comprehension. As the wind whispers through the desolate landscape, it rustles the feathers of the scarecrow, creating an unsettling murmur that seems to echo with the cawing of unseen ravens. In Barovia, where every shadow conceals a potential threat and every rustle of the wind hints at unseen malevolence, this scarecrow serves as a foreboding sentinel, a silent harbinger of the dark mysteries that lie within the land.
Children
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