“ In the days of old, before the dominance of humanity, the giants were the supreme rulers of the world and their crafts were considered to be the best. These beings venerated the god of the forge above all others and their swords and armors were the best that could be had even in the days of their decline. A hero seeking a masterwork sword might have to voyage long and hard to find a surviving giant smith or cache of rare and valuable giantcraft weapons.”
“ In the middle of an unimportant combat with some bandits a burst of wild magic transforms all of the PCs and their opponents in to random animals and monsters. They retain their intelligence (though not, of course, the ability of speech). They can either carry on the combat in their new forms, panic, or otherwise react how they see best. After about an hour, they return, unharmed, to their normal form.”
“ The ochre sands stretch for miles around. Something kicks up the dust. It's a yak. A desert-yak. It ambles slowly, nuzzling the ground for the low-growing shrubs. The ranger freezes. 'Stay very still,' he warns. 'Don't move at all.'
'What is it?' you ask, breathlessly.
'It's the most dangerous creature in the whole Ocadian desert. And it's about to eat that yak...'”
