The sky bled crimson under the gaze of the blood moon, a swollen eye glaring down upon the world with ominous intent. Clouds splayed across the night sky like torn fabric across its surface, casting flickering shadows that danced across the ancient cemetery grounds.

Two figures stood at the edge of the cracked cobblestone path, framed by gnarled trees and curling mist. The wind carried the faint scent of decay, and each breath they could taste the history and violence that once was alive in this cursed place.

Bram towered at the front. His scarred arms were taut, his axe already unstrapped and gripped in one hand. Not typically familiar with fear, Bram found himself shifting his weight uneasily as his eyes scanned the crumbling mausoleums and the towering statues that flanked the rusted iron gate ahead. The statues were of knights long forgotten, faces worn smooth by time, yet tonight, they stared back.

"Somethin' 'bout this place just ain't right, Syra," Bram muttered, voice low and gravelly.

Beside him, cloaked in shadows, Syra stood with her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her white hair glowed faintly in the moonlight drinking in the red that was being cast down upon them, eyes sharp and unblinking. The eldritch mark on her palm pulsed with a low, warning warmth.

"The Weave hums wrong here. Something is twisting it."

They were separated from the rest of their party after a skirmish in the forest beyond the ridge, and the rendezvous point lay on the far side of the cemetery. A shortcut, their map had said. but their guts were telling them to turn back.

The rusted gate groaned slightly in the wind, almost as though it was warning them to turn around.

Syra narrowed her eyes at the statues. "They were facing outward before, weren’t they?"

Bram didn’t respond. He simply stepped in front of her, muscles tensing. "We go through fast. Stick to the path. Get to the other side."

Syra nodded but didn’t move. Her boots were planted, and her grip on her staff tightened. The shadows that danced in the corners of her vision no longer felt like tricks of the light. Her gut twisted.

Bram exhaled slowly and rolled his shoulders. His instinct forged on a hundred battlefields, were flaring like torches. He couldn’t hear any birds. No animals. Not even the buzz of insects.

Just the wind.

And the breathing statues.

He paused.

"Syra... do you hear that?"

Her expression darkened. "I do now."

From beyond the gate came a faint scrape. Stone against stone. Then a low whisper, not of language, but of hunger.

The statues' heads turned.

Bram roared, axe rising.

Syra’s sigils lit like flame.

The graveyard came alive.

Bring the Battle Beneath the Blood Moon to Life

The statues stir, the mausoleums crack, and the gate creaks open—are your players ready?

Recreate the haunting atmosphere and edge-of-your-seat tension of Whispers of the Blood Moon with our modular cemetery terrain set. Every eerie headstone, rusted gate, and towering statue is designed for tactical gameplay and immersive storytelling.

What’s Included:

• All modular components needed to build this scene from start to battle
• A build layout guide to bring the haunted cemetery to life on your table
• Optional built-in storage (when paired with compatible modular table) to keep every tomb and gate organized between sessions

Don't just imagine the cursed graveyard, walk into it.

Buy the set now and see if your party survives what wakes beneath the blood moon.

Purchase page coming soon! Please email us at hello@mtcreate406.com for now to purchase set.