Those that know him have long ago forgotten his last name if he ever had one. Once a respected adventurer of great reknown he has since fell into mindlessness and general senility. An elf of no little confusion, his great knowledge is still available, just difficult to get to.
Made for a wealthy carpenter to ease his workload, those that have it can find other uses for it. Used to cut perfect holes in wood or create wood doll rods.
Talon is a man of many faces and many connections. Common people know him as Talon, a respected, untouchable courier for the rich. A courier that has connections to those can accomplish that which is unaccomplishable.
Two adventurers retiring in their prime, or are they really retiring? Set themselves up as proprietors of a Weapnsmithe and a Tavern but still have there fingers deep on the pulse of adventure.
There is an assassin on the loose and nobody knows where he will strike next. Two seemingly nonassociated merchants got the knife in the back of the neck, and that was just the week ago. Rumors have it that some guilds are cleaning house and there are numerous other contracts pending. A large scale guild war seems inevitable.
Known throughout the land for his miracle elixir. Worshipped by the poor, envied by the rich, the miracles follow him as he travels, or so he would have everyone believe.
Golden tablets with the seal of the ruler that issued the pass and the seal and name of who it was issued to. About the size of your palm of solid intricately etched gold. The holder of the tablet is backed by the authority of the king to make any required purchases on credit or enter any place they deem necessary. A very powerful token indeed.
The job of a lifetime. The King’s very own Security Advisor has redesigned the security of the armoury and has chosen the PC’s to give it a test run. If they break in and out, they will win much respect. If they fail, then they simply prove the armoury security is unbreakable. Can’t lose, until after the ‘test’ break-in the armoury really is broken into and the most valuable weapons of the kingdom are now missing…and the PC’s are the prime suspects.
Nobody knows how many were made or who the creator was. It is only known that in need, the blades always appear to those that are worthy. They lift those they choose into places of power and use that influence to rage a millennium old war.
War is brewing over the new fertile lands next to the Otane River. Trade has ceased and conflict is thick in the air. Contacts must be kept and messages must still be sent to allies in each of the cities. Spies are untrustworthy and the loyal ones cannot be spared. The need for those competent and smart enough to deliver state secrets is desperately needed.
Every five years the wandering nomads of the land have a large gathering bringing them together from all over. Unfortunately a town has sprung up on top of their gathering place. Live in peace and deal with each other or will the overlapping of two entirely different cultures clash in a bad way?
A substance, born of the cold and adapted to the warmth of the human world. Its natural state is a mercury type liquid but when held in frozen conditions the wielder may will it to take any form desired. Their only limit is the amount of liquid they have.
After a successful adventure and money in the pocket they decide to splurge and live it up. They site down and order a nice meal and it far surpasses their expectations- until halfway through it the other guests start falling over choking and vomiting.
A weapon with multiple personalities. Always a chance you can get the one you want, always a chance you won’t. Once drawn will you be able to wield it? Will you be able to use the powers and knowledge or will you be swept away by the needs and wants of this intelligent item?
Scratches are a small price to pay for the comfort and protection of the perfect campsite. At least they were a small price until members of the party aren’t waking up.
During their travels through a dense wooded area the high pitched sound of a scream tears through the peacefulness of the forest.
A century ago a power hungry noble sacrificed all the first born children of a nearby town in hopes of gaining the Dark Lord’s favor. The plan failed and his plea for power was ignored. The townspeople trapped him in his tower and destroyed it allowing it to topple down onto him. His last words spoke of his will to return and enslave the town. Now the towers has been seen standing, but what it means is anybodies guess.
Adventurers are hired by a local guild to collect some overdue debts.
Needed-An ethical character with a long history of promiscuity and/or, preferably, a past love relationship.
The players unknowingly awaken an ancient army. Viewable by all, yet unseen by the players, people flee in fear of the marching army of spirits on the path to a major walled city. On arriving at the city the players cannot figure out why the gates are closed, the towers are manned and on the defensive - from them…
Khor are a monsterous and violent race. Within five years of being born, they grow to about half human size and are very, very inteligent. As they get older, they get larger... unfortunately they become less intelligent. After their adolecesence (about seven years), they grow to human size and are of a low human intelligence. As they age, they grow larger, slower, and stupider. Most of them end their lives 3 to 4 meters in height. Khor have been reported upto 10 meters tall, though those elder giant Khor do little but hit anything that disturbs them.
As they age they get larger, they don't seem to ever die of natural causes.