"Protect us, oh holy one,
from the dangers of the night
may your smoke and ashes
to our souls with clarity ignite"
There are three ways to live. And living them well, living them with purpose, allows you to die easy.
"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."
The Noble Expertise of Creating the Remaining Organism is a gentlemen's club. People who don't belong call it the Noble Expertise, or perhaps the Expertise, but the people in the club call themselves necromancers, and the club itself N.E.C.R.O.
Banished from their foolish tree-hugger kin, the Plains Elves were forced into a semi-nomadic lifestyle.
"The HAS Endeavor is this ship. Its run by these 'obbit pirates. One day, me and me mates were sailing to this island, 'cause there was some old dungeon that I had a really good reason to loot at the time. So's as we sailed, them pirates led by their cap'n, a 'obbit called Ralph, boarded us, and stole all me gold! I was pissed for ages."
-Old Gerald, man in the pub
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?