Jacob Latris was a Taurian immigrant to Obstaria. Now he is a man who has severed his connections to sanity long ago, and is searching for something that probably doesn't exist.
With many legends and myths attributed to it, the Shield of St. John was wielded by the Prophet and bears the curse of fame for bearing holy magic. However, the only benefit the Shield could bestow upon the wielder is psychological.
The Prophet John's life and, indeed, death was a mystery. Some say that the gods placed him on this earth for his purpose without a past, and others, a rare few, claim that he was a god himself.
"And Lo; today Alea Waxes, and she shall blesses us. For soon a great change is upon us, for soon our beliefs shall be hallowed! We as a group, we as a people, we as a religion, shall be acknowledged. Our efforts shall no longer be in vain!"
--The Prophet John, Sermon to the Capitol
A place where no one knows about or finds until the Circle chooses a person to discover it. For the Circle of Culthus has a purpose for that person, and letting other people know of it or discover it would hinder that purpose.
The Forgotten Cemetery is famed throughout the world as a monument to the World War. Only the survivors of the Forgotten Battle and the cemetery's caretaker remembers its true purpose.
Triastu. The City of the Three. The Hallowed City. Triastu is the holy city of Trianarianism, and is the home of the Trirex. Many have paid homage to it, and many have gone on pilgrimages to it, and have marveled in its beauty.
An army can be compared to a craftsmen. Both produce for gain. A craftsmen produces a product, a good, for monetary gain. An army, however, produces corpses for resource acquisition. Be it on the battlefield or in the medical tent with the severely wounded being put out of their misery, the fillers of graves are being produced.
Any mind of the modern age has thought about putting those bodies to work. Necromancy has long been socially inacceptable. Besides, no one enjoys seeing a former comrade, a former brother-in-arms, walking around fighting and killing with a spear hole in his gut and a couple arrows hanging from the arms. And the only other way was to throw the dead body into a catapult and throw it at the enemy, in the hopes of giving them plague.
It was Obstarian military who first unleashed the Raveten on their foes during the World War. No one was prepared for it. And so people died.
When the barbarian increase their raiding of Tauria, the King of Tauria decides that hiring a couple of lowlife mercenaries (the PCs) is his best option to fix the problem.
There are three ways to live. And living them well, living them with purpose, allows you to die easy.
Found, normally, deep in the swamp, the Friar's Weed's poison is something to be watched for.
Also called the Flowers of Childhood, they look like they were taken straight from a fairytale. But they have a darker side.
"Death. What happens when one dies? A question that all civilized peoples have tried to answer. Some claim you go to a place where you are rewarded or punished based on what you do when you're alive. Some claim that you a simply reincarnated.
"They are all wrong. The truth is that we are in a state of transformation. Humans are simply in a complicated version of a caterpillar in a chrysalis. We started as mere animi. Now we are humans. And just like the caterpillar turns into something grander after its time in a chrysalis, we become something grander when we die.
"You see, we become gods."
Born to King John XVII, Hope did not get standard princess treatment. Yes, she was locked away in a tower, and yes, there was the standard moat of flaming lava, but unlike all the other spoiled brats, she didn't get a dragon. Hope Rexian had to make do with a demon. And this particular demon couldn't even breathe fire! Simply pathetic job done by the cosmos. Hope may have gotten the valiant-knight-who-happens-to-be-called-Prince-Charming-riding-in-and-killing-guardian-on-noble-steed treatment, but some things just won't do. You can't just mess with tradition like that!
A basic history of the continent of Atheus.
A description of the geography of Atreus. This sub will also be an umbrella sub for all the coming Atreus subs.
He grew up to be a powerful Knight, a force to be reckoned with. That is, before his fall. Before the Kingdom he protected, the Knighthood he served, and a Knight he fought with betrayed him.
Wilhelm the Courageus they used to call him. He used to have it all. People would cheer as he rode down the street, clad in the specialized full-plate armor that the Knights of Trul wore. But no this is no more. Now Wilhelm is a nothing. People would jeer if he walked down the street, which is why Wilhelm waits in the background- until, that is, the day of his plot comes to fruition and his revenge is gained. For Wilhelm has launched a conspiracy to gain the thing that matters most to him, has brought to bear a plot through all of his means, and is a man with a plan.
An explorer gone missing. A king in panic. A treasure to find.
Welcome to the Craggy Peaks. We hope you don't freeze to death.
That would mean we couldn't... play.
"And Arathinos brandished the Foe-Reaper, and let loose a battle cry. He stood, with rain pouring out of the heavens, on a mountain of bodies. The rain washed the blood through channels in the corpses. Arathinos raised the Foe-Reaper and saluted the fleeing enemies before him, as lightning crashed around him.
The Foe-Reaper is a great blade. With the years spent in Arathinos's hands, it has taken up a myriad of powers. And most prominent among those powers is dramatic effect. What is more morale-sapping than seeing your enemy with a backdrop of lightning, as if the arrows of the heavens stand with your foe?"
Teenagers who run away from home to live in the wilderness may become feral. As they become more and more feral, they gain some supernatural powers (a la Peter Pan - ability to fly, things they imagine come true - possibly quite powerful), but at the expense of their humanity and ability to speak, comprehend complex subjects, etc. Maybe they have a leader: the most feral of them all.
A regression into a fantasy childlike state.