Its once-proud stone walls are cracked and leaning, held together more by stubbornness than design. The great clock face, long shattered, stares out like a blind eye upon the city’s underbelly, while rusted gears and splintered beams groan beneath the weight of years. Inside, narrow staircases spiral precariously upwards, their creaking steps promising collapse with every footfall.
The air grows colder as one ascends, thick with dust, mildew, and the faint, unsettling odor of something long dead. Ancient machinery lies silent, its massive chains and iron weights looming like slumbering giants. High above, the skeletal remains of the clock’s upper levels sway in the constant wind, their exposed rafters offering little protection against the sky’s ominous gaze.
Yet decay is not the tower’s greatest threat.
Dark forces now claim The Shadow Clock as their own, using its forgotten height as a perch for murder, ritual, and madness. In its hollow chambers, twisted servants lurk, waiting for intruders drawn into this vertical labyrinth of death.
The Shadow Clock offers Dungeon Masters a perilous, multi-level arena for vertical exploration, deadly ambushes, and tense confrontations where every creak and every gust of wind may spell disaster. Here, the past has rotted — and something far worse has taken its place.
