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BUNDLE & SAVE!
BUNDLE & SAVE!
Embrace the shadows with our new Halloween bundle, inspired by monsters of middle earth.
Screeching Wraith
Mood: The mist parts around the hooves of a great, black steed. Upon its back, a cloaked figure, face hidden in shadow, raises its voice in a piercing wail.
Smells Like: Ghostly whispers, shrouded in white musk and dark coffee, as sharp as a knife.
Orc Raid
Mood: Sword and club, fire and blade, smoke rises over a ruined village, razed by foul hands in the dark of night.
Smells Like: Burning homes and ruined crops, smoke wafting over fields, and scorched leather.
Caught in a Web
Mood: Shrouded in darkness, she waits. Her nets are of silk. Her hunger is endless. Those who enter will not return.
Smells Like: Dark anise and glittering eyes, webs drifting on a breeze wafting with sweet smoke.
Embrace the shadows with our new Halloween bundle, inspired by monsters of middle earth.
Screeching Wraith
Mood: The mist parts around the hooves of a great, black steed. Upon its back, a cloaked figure, face hidden in shadow, raises its voice in a piercing wail.
Smells Like: Ghostly whispers, shrouded in white musk and dark coffee, as sharp as a knife.
Orc Raid
Mood: Sword and club, fire and blade, smoke rises over a ruined village, razed by foul hands in the dark of night.
Smells Like: Burning homes and ruined crops, smoke wafting over fields, and scorched leather.
Caught in a Web
Mood: Shrouded in darkness, she waits. Her nets are of silk. Her hunger is endless. Those who enter will not return.
Smells Like: Dark anise and glittering eyes, webs drifting on a breeze wafting with sweet smoke.
Collection Description
In the darkened corners of the world, monsters lurk.
Dark caves thick with webbing hide beings of hunger and malice.
Will you escape or will they make you their meal?
Hoards of orcs carry torches in the night, ready to crush and kill those who would stand against them.
Can you stand against their might?
Black cloaked riders stalk the roads beneath a full moon, ever searching, ever seeking.
Run or hide, but whatever you do, do it with haste!
Those who stray into the darkness must be prepared to face their fears.
Are you ready to brave the path forward?
Mood: Shrouded in darkness, she waits. Her nets are of silk. Her hunger is endless. Those who enter will not return.
Smells Like: Dark anise and glittering eyes, webs drifting on a breeze wafting with sweet smoke.
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Dark, narrow stairs rise up the side of the mountain, crags of stone on either side like fangs of a great beast. A sickly sky roils overhead and carrion birds cry out in the distance.
At the top of the stairs, a cavern gapes like a black maw. Stale, cold air drifts from within and wisps of white webbing cling to the stones.
Bones crack underfoot as the travelers step inside the tunnel. Sticky gauze clings to skin and hair. Something whispers in the darkness, something ancient and hungry. Hearts grow cold and courage flees. Only death awaits within.
Mood: Sword and club, fire and blade, smoke rises over a ruined village, razed by foul hands in the dark of night.
Smells Like: Burning homes and ruined crops, smoke wafting over fields, and scorched leather.
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A wolf howls in the darkness causing cattle to stir restlessly in their pastures. One by one torches light in the distance, like malevolent fireflies springing up in the darkness. They grow closer, accompanied by the hoots and howls of the blood thirty band that carry them.
They are coming.
Villagers grab their children and flee. The woods will hide them, but they must move quickly. The cries grow louder, accompanied by the clanking of weapons and the snarling of the wolves.
Run fast, don't look back, they are coming.
Fire finds the roof of the first home. Flames lick the thatching, consuming it. The blaze illuminates the village, revealing empty homes and frightened livestock.
Don't stop. Don't speak.
Run. Hide. Pray.
They are here.
Mood: The mist parts around the hooves of a great, black steed. Upon its back, a cloaked figure, face hidden in shadow, raises its voice in a piercing wail.
Smells Like: Ghostly whispers, shrouded in white musk and dark coffee, as sharp as a knife.
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Iron-shod hooves spark against stone as the riders gallop beneath a starless sky. Mist parts before them, swirling and thick.
Travelers cower beneath the shelter of the trees, praying the riders pass them by. Dread grips hearts and still the night. All is quiet as the riders come to a halt at the crest of the hill.
The clouds part, and moonlight floods the countryside, casting long, reaching shadows through the forest. The light reveals the rider, talk and cloaked. Metal gauntlets grasp the reins of his mighty steed. No eyes are visible beneath his black hood. Cold fear surrounds him like a shroud.
A cry goes out, piercing the silence like a knife, keening and shrill. It echoes from the hills.
The riders are here.
Mood: Music drifts through the night breeze as lanterns illuminate colorful tents. Jugglers, acrobats, and fortune-tellers ply their trade. The Carnival beckons you.
Smells Like: Mischief in a nearby orchard, twisting pumpkin vines amidst a corn maze, and steam from hot black coffee.
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The master of the fair stands at the gate, his eyes alight beneath the brim of his purple hat. Music echoes through the colorful tents and brightly painted stands. All is a blur of movement and merriment as ticket sellers cry out, "The Midnight Carnival has arrived! Get your tickets now!"
A black cat twines around the master's legs, amber eyes glowing in the twilight. The fragrance of butter melting over freshly popped corn tickles the feline's nose, and her whiskers twitch. She watches as children rush for the corn maze at the edge of the clearing. A dark crow launches from the top of the nearest tent and glides along after them with a mournful caw.
Torches spin above a juggler's head, and the crowd gasps with delight. The master smiles then twirls his cane. At his signal, fireworks burst above the scarlet tents, raining sparks like diamonds over the audience's heads. Magic crackles in the air, speaking of enchantment, wonder, and mystery.
Mood: Music drifts through the night breeze as lanterns illuminate colorful tents. Jugglers, acrobats, and fortune-tellers ply their trade. The Carnival beckons you.
Smells Like: Mischief in a nearby orchard, twisting pumpkin vines amidst a corn maze, and steam from hot black coffee.
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The master of the fair stands at the gate, his eyes alight beneath the brim of his purple hat. Music echoes through the colorful tents and brightly painted stands. All is a blur of movement and merriment as ticket sellers cry out, "The Midnight Carnival has arrived! Get your tickets now!"
A black cat twines around the master's legs, amber eyes glowing in the twilight. The fragrance of butter melting over freshly popped corn tickles the feline's nose, and her whiskers twitch. She watches as children rush for the corn maze at the edge of the clearing. A dark crow launches from the top of the nearest tent and glides along after them with a mournful caw.
Torches spin above a juggler's head, and the crowd gasps with delight. The master smiles then twirls his cane. At his signal, fireworks burst above the scarlet tents, raining sparks like diamonds over the audience's heads. Magic crackles in the air, speaking of enchantment, wonder, and mystery.
A moonless night, the breeze stirs the trees, their branches scraping like clawing fingers against the windows of an otherwise cozy roadside tavern. A cry pierces the night. Something is searching.
The path disappears into a dark tunnel. Wisps of white gauze cling to the stone and stick to the skin of passersby. Black eyes watch from the darkness. Something lurks.
Shouts and growls echo through the forest. Fire blazes, cold steel flashes, and villagers flee their quiet homes. Something is coming.
Brave the monsters of fantasy realms with this spine-tingling three candle mini-collection from Mythologie Candles.