Perhaps you've heard of Winter's Gem, and of the tragic fate of the Lady Karina. And perhaps not. It is, after all, a tale unspeakably old. Yet the Earth does not forget, and those of us who guard it do not wither...
Nine thousand years she has slumbered, while Winter diminished. So obsessed was He in her care, that He allowed Summer to run unchecked. His power dwindled, and Summer grew. There is a great unbalance in the world, young ones. One that I fear will break the back of the Earth itself, if not addressed. Winter must return. It is the Way.
A proposed system for managing a party's reputation with various NPCs
30 Warriors -- Freemen and Captives -- to populate your arenas.
Two creatures, forever cycling between the phases of the 5 elements, unable to rejoin.
A short story which uses Memory Moths in a sci-fi setting. Props to Echomirage for the forum post that inspired the symbiotic Proxy Bug.
These are items of great interest to the Players Cult, and show a few potential ways to bring them into a larger campaign.
The First three are of particular interest to one guild over the others, while the final two are vitally important to the Cult as a whole.
30 cult members, of varying levels of sanity and skill. Divided into Guilds for convenience and clarity. Could potentially be used as 30 gang members, depending on your needs.
"The perfect pet at the perfect price -- guaranteed." Creature Dex at the bottom of the sub, if you want to include "relatively harmless" alien critters in your campaign.
"If you take out all the bullshit about the machines and the crappy prophecy, The Matrix was pretty close to the truth. Just think about it for awhile and you'll see how much sense it makes. And really, if you were trapped in a game and couldn't wake up, wouldn't you want to know the truth? So you could do something about it?"
" . . . Still haven't convinced you, huh? Here, tell you what: I'll give you my card. Whenever you feel like learning the real truth of this world, give me a call. I'll show you the ropes."
The unnatural offspring of a zombie father and a human mother.
All Maire wanted was to give her husband a child. She wasn't about to let death stand in the way.
Dwarven beards are rich habitats for the enterprising critter.
Patron deity of the Cult of Done, Othamm is always working to counter Mathom's influence.
'Cmon and drink up. This potion will really help us understand each other, if you know what I mean.
In a world where mutant powers are real, not everyone can be a Storm, Cyclops or Wolverine. Here's a list of super powers for those who were a little less lucky. They probably won't want to be sharing them anytime soon.
A grab-bag of draconic goodness, ready to plug into a variety of settings from Steam-Punk to Modern to Fantasy.
Learn how to apply one of screenwriting's most effective tools to your own campaign, for a game with better pacing and solid endings.
When Vegma, Judge of the Dead, was called away to witness Mathom's trial, he left Slys in charge of the recently deceased. Intended as a simple placeholder, she has come to be something more.
After waking up groggily in the middle of a floating wizard's tower, the players must find some way to escape before being slain by the beast that stalks them. Time is ticking and the cat is always watching . . .
A wild species, vinus homophagus, more akin to sea-grape rather than the terrestrial variety, is not a monster despite its fanciful name. The grapes, a deep purple color when in bloom, and oozing dewdrops of perspiration, like the most prized and delectable of drinking wine grapes, do however deserve their moniker. Wine made from this fruit, is deadly to most humanoids, as is the raw berry if plucked and eaten from the vine. It is the unnatural chemical concoction found within the fruit’s tart skin, which gives the man-eating grape its name. The chemical stew found inside each berry, functions as a necrotic agent, the same as found in some species of venomous snakes.
The grapes literally eat their victims from the inside out, via cell death, melting and destroying the organs in quick succession.
The tribes of Pra-Oohk Crater, of the jungles of Ghlush are known to sell the fermented “wine” of this grape to merchants of distant lands. Sadly, the taste of the concoction is divine when first quaffed, and even worse, the man-eating grape wine will never detect as poisonous via mundane means, its horrid natures somehow masking all attempts. Luckily the man-eating grapes are extremely rare, and endemic to humid jungles.