Deep within the bowels of the earth, the great structure of reality finds itself at siege.
And Cain said “Blood of my Blood, Soul of my Soul, partaketh of the Blood of the mortals, who art like the swine and chattel of the earth.”
An elder lich recently returned from a journey across the worlds who seeks an artifact of ancient times.
A regular female Robin Hood with an appreciation for relaxation.
The Sword has returned from long and ancient exile. Can it’s glory be kept from falling into the wrong hands?
Long lost beneath the raging seas, the Sword holds the pure power that nobody could ever contain.
During battle/war the heads of all slain are decapitated and collected by the slayer. The slayer will clean them up and put them on display for inspection by the commander. Depending on the deads name, rank, and expression on the face held by the death blow-the slayer will be rewarded by gold and/or status.