Inspired by the Five in One challenge, the Emblem of Novercalis is a campaign inspired not by five subs, but by five idea seeds.
The inanimate remnants and dry husks of ideas left stillborn.
A greater examination of the Magician’s best friend, his familiar.
A hybrid of man and animal, bred to serve and now free to live.
A timely whistle to save a life.
A world of drifting sky islands and air ships
Pantarbe, floating rock, skystone, drifting earth…
A methodology for the magic behind the magic weapon.
You’re a mean one Old Crynog
You really are a skug
Halfling children’s rhyme
The Obtort Ward is all that remains of what was once an ancient battlefield that was afterwards converted into a mass grave.
Life dies in my wake, sacrificing itself to my hunger
The Masque of Hunger
Perhaps one of the oldest of the humanoid races, the Pelamids are a sort of missing link between terrestrial humans and aquatic merfolk.
Predator, nightstalker, brother to beasts, call me a monster long enough brother and I very well might become one.
Jaurmes, Augrune woodcutter
101 plug and play communities in 10 sub-categories
GET AWAY FROM ME YOU ZOMBIE FREAKS!
Last words of Derrius the Bold
One of the legendary unholy treasures
Also known as the Staff of the Bodyguard
Luchildsburg? Yeah I remember that place, they had the black ale that tasted so bad.
Brumborion’s blade, the fang of the north, ice razor, the glacial sword, Givone’s Favor
Fewer things under heaven reek
like the lofty spires of Wlatsoom Peak
Vernissage, apprentice bard.
Idea from the Aeneid. Could make an intriguing encounter when searching for firewood..."Quite near there happened to be a mound of earth, at the highest part of which were growing thickets of cornel and a dense cluster of spiky myrtle-stems. I went up there and tried to wrench the green growth from the ground to provide a leafy covering for our altar. There I was confronted by a horrible and astounding miracle. For from the first bush which I tried to break off...blood oozed in dark drops, fouling the earth with its spots...A piteous moan came from the base of the mound and I heard a human voice answering me: 'Why, Aeneas, must you rend a poor sufferer? I am buried here...for I am Polydorus. Here death overpowered me in a crop of piercing iron-pointed spears. And so a crop resembling javelins has grown over me...'"