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.
A childlike cat burglar who catches her victims unaware.
There are those as rich as kings but dress as peasants and worry not about funding. To visit their true homes one would see wealth of untold value scattered as dirt is in a hut. They know the monetary value of their possessions but they have long lost any true value to their owners. Experience is their currency and their curse. They dispense secrets of the ages as if discussing the weather. Few things have they not experienced so that very little gives them joy. They are the lost ones looking for new life while humoring the mortals around them.