"Has he got any magic stuff on him?" the librarian asked. "You know, magic sword or wand or such?"
"Of course," Glacier answered, annoyed at the question. Dragus the Reaving Knight wielded the Black Sword as everybody knew. "What's that got to do with anything?"
The librarian smiled. "Well, that just made finding him much easier, that's all. See, what you need is the Books of the Holders."
Slow and meticulous, Heathen had a great deal to prove to the other witches of her coven. So, she set out to do the impossible: the wand of death.
There's more to carry than just magical items. These are some of the essential things every character or NPC should carry.
"Magic is like telling a lie," Calypso told his latest bunch of would-be apprentices. "It doesn't matter if it's real or not as long as everyone believes it."
Umbra may have trapped Prima's body, but she is free in her village of dreams.
"We fought the li'l beasties," the gruff old Dwarf growled, "so where the blazes is their treasure!"
Glacier grinned, "Just give me a second, I know how to find it."
Pretty smoke rings? Naw, I can do a lot more than that.
There's nothing like a good, full pipe after a day of slaying.
The Black Death... oh how quaint.
A few plagues to add variety to the lives and deaths of your heroes.
The greatest failure of the Arch Mage Calypso is his one legacy sought by Emporers, Dragons, and Gods.
"Uncle Humblestaff?" the young hero responded. "Of course I know the man. Wouldn't have had a chance at the academy without a word from him. He's the big guy over there, surrounded by all those adventurers."
A game of chance, a long night of winning, and one last victory put the title to the Tortoise Shell Tavern into Humblestaff's hands. Now he just needs a group to help find it and "evict one or two unwanted guests," whatever the former owner meant by that.
Along the sluggish Vanne River, the banks are lined with thick stands of tall bulrushes. These areas of wetland are considered ill-omened by the locals, for they hide the skeletal remains of thousands of grazing animals, washed downriver in a terrible flood decades before.
Adding to the uncanny reputation of the place is the occasional undead cow or goat that lurks there. The product of a necromancer's experiments some years before, these relatively harmless undead wander the area at night, startling livestock as they attempt to graze with them.