A short tale, for when your bard needs a tale of adventure, romance, and tragedy.
Lost to the mysts of time and catastrophe, the fabled Zhao Zwehian Library has reappeared. Or at least, part of it has...
Home to the fabled Shining Towers, a gleaming beacon of light for miles around.
An ornate reliquary box, covered in fine metalwork that twists the eye and causes headaches.
Favored minion of the necromancer Warmaker, the Ossilyth is a tank of an undead.
You find a dusty violin on a stand in the next room. Through the grime of the years, you can tell that it is of excellent make. Perhaps someone can put it to good use? An instrument is meant to be played, after all...
Clockwork angels. Servants of the Mechanogod Whrrrm.
"I will give man his threescore and ten, and then give him more. Death himself will fall before me."
...And 'lo, the days of Bennu drew to a close, and he built himself a pyre from which to be reborn in cleansing fire. But trickery snared his form, blackening radiant feathers to twilight...
The door to the building is open, but inside is nothing but darkness. The lights are out: What do you do?
A short sidebar of encounter information for the fel Shadowbeasts.
A subterranean prison complex, meant to incarcerate those who need to be removed from society.
A realm of unending darkness, pitch blackness, where even light refuses to shine.
Bob and Alice are being chased by something/someone dangerous. They move into a new area, and the pursuit suddenly is nowhere to be found. What does the pursuer know that our heroes don't?
Casting spells is a difficult, oftentimes dangerous task. Power can be attained in spades by those so inclined, but controlling it once unleashed is something else entirely. There are a number of different ways that the form of the spell, the spell matrix, can be encoded, each with their own advantages and disadvantages.
30 books to be found within a steampunk setting. Manuals, tomes, and blueprints galore!
With bright light and 5 minutes burn time, this is required equipment for any cave-diver worth his salt.
A name shrouded in the mists of time. A scheme of pure genius. A relic of the Mage Wars.
Among the assortment of organized criminals who live in the great city, few command greater fear the Moonbeard Order.
They of course do not call themselves that, but have earned the moniker from their fashion of dying their large beards with lye to produce a distinctive crescent shape running from earlobe to earlobe. This is meant as a taunt for their enemies, for it clearly outlines their throats.
They also wear garb similar to the northern tribesman, carefully tooled leather and showing multiple, colourful glyphs.
They are feared due to the intense discipline that their group maintains, due to their origins as a warrior-sect.
They serve as paid thugs, enforcers and assassins within the city, with the client simply ordering a service from the organization, not hiring an individual. Apart from making the request and providing payment in full in advance, the order completes the assignment themselves.
Their order has many moles through the organizations of the city, and more than a couple of nobles. As such, no organized move has been made against them since their chief activity is directed against other members of the crime world. It is said that their services have been useful for those in power as well, further protecting them from persecution.
Their religion holds that their time in this world is vanishingly brief, and largely unimportant except as training for the Great Battle.
The order is very utilitarian with weapons choice - they simply use the tool needed for the occasion, though not without having trained extensively with it beforehand. Daggers, garrottes, swords, bows, battle axes, polearms, wagons, even siege engines have been used to carry out their contracts.