Why did you buy all those Iron Spikes?
Even the sinister Aelfen lords of the Unseleigh Court knew to fear the eldritch vengeance of the Horned Lord.
The Castellan of the Court of Dark Memory loyally serves the Twystened Sidhe, wielding unholy power in his ruthless determination to end an evil curse.
Blessed Yandrick, spare my herd from the Hoof Rot, and let the thieves and bandits seek elsewhere! Let my swine grow fat and strong, that they might be sold at market, so my children will have enough food this winter!
Come! Hear Uncle Jehan's band, by the river's side...
Even the boldest quake with fear of the Kobelyn Cavalry of Terkuss Tahkhan! Especially if they’re on the same side!
The two foreigners claimed to represent their queen, but… Where did they say they were from?
Every winter, a humble tinker man wanders through the villages, giving toys to the children…
Last of the Lineage of Senach, young King Nemeroud gave his heart to an Aelfen enchantress and vanished from the lands of men, plunging the land into chaos. If only the tale had ended there
The searchers found only a silken veil, so they despaired; telling their frightened families only that the Dark Lady of Destinen had taken another lover.
Few men in the Free Cities have as much power as this ambitious man, and fewer abuse their power so badly.
Many hearts have been lost to the hypnotic beauty of the Elves' immortal Queen; others have bowed to the grandeur of the Lord of the Forest. You don't think that happens by itself, do you? They send for Boldrei!
Murderous prophet of a depraved cult, Corvius the Death-Haunted cursed the Empire with an ancient evil that has plagued its lands ever since.
An Empire was brought low by the vile astrologer Magnus Magisterius, but that was only the beginning of his evil.
Seldom will you see such a distinguished veteran: A man of action, who always seems to have what a soldier needs!
Senach, the mighty leader who forged a kingdom from a land of quarrelling clans: The inarguable truth, as told by the druid who crowned him.
The power of the runes comes with a price, one the apprentice Tamford wasn’t ready to pay
In a shadowed alley near Bassage Market, the secretive master of the city's "resurrection men" studies mysteries of life and death.
Stalwart men and true, they can be found wherever true heroes gather. What they’re doing there is a mystery to all…
A half-breed son of the Volgotoi, Vorodon seeks to find his place in a world that rejects his kind.
The Pcs discover an ancient, dusty oil lamp, somewhere in the bowels of a dungeon. Naturally they "rub it", and out pops a wizened, old djinn. So far so good. Then it speaks...
"Ah at last, at last I am free! Now grant me my wish!"
When the PCs explain that they are the ones that should be granted a wish, the malignant djinn explains to them that his particular oil-lamp has a curse placed upon it. Whomsoever releases the entity inside shall be geased to grant the djinn's wish to the best of their ability.
Groans ensue from the party. The djinn rubs his wrinkled hands, grins, and proceeds to name his wish. What could it be?