An item of legend, that may not even exist. But many still desire it, and many fear its possible use.
It is a popular view amongst magic-users, that most members of the Cult of Malidon are just bitter people, blaming magic for their private losses and defeats, often seeking to silence some other qualms with burning witches. For one low cultist at least, this view is completely wrong…
The priest of a deity that never seemed to need one.
To the primitive tribes on the plains of North, life changes rapidly from season to season. In summer, food is abundant. In the winter, death from starving is never far. A natural phenomenon helped one such tribe.
There was He, and there was She. And She was shy of men at first, always being told to distrust them. But He taught Her what love is, and promised Her everything he could. And they lived in happiness, and their love was perfect, for the rest of their lives.
A little prank that has found its uses. Shaving razor.
It is said that there is always night, even during the day it is dark. Undead prowl around freely, and pity to those living that end up there. Still, lucky are those eaten by the hordes, some fools get deeper and their very souls are consumed by the nameless horrors that lurk in some hidden spots. And still more serve as new material for the Necromancers, the only living creatures there, as they say at least…
Getting the favour of a Necromancer, and asking for a magical cloak? Sure, why not.
A strange, mystical box, with many rumours attached, that does not want to reveal its secret…
Most Orbs study humanoids in one way or another. But only one makes this a full-time job, in its own way…
Many people know the Honorable Judge has a little weakness for Elves. Some people know he was raised by Elves. But no one knows about his deep hatred for them…
Place of healing. Place of peace. A place to go if the world has harmed you too much.
The Heart that beats slowly in the dark.
A guaranteed life-saver in some situations, a good armor anytime. Several miraculous death-and-return situations were observed on its wearers, but seldom attributed to the simple leather armor.
A tiny leaf, that can make the smallest animal truly dangerous.
Deep within a strange labyrinth, a book wields the magic of its former master. Illusion becomes reality.
A pilgrim’s protection, an assassin’s friend, a weapon of no great power.
A weapon of surprise.
The finest ring of them all, brings Life wherever it ends up. You may need its powers, but will you accept all that will be drawn to it?
If you helped the Grazuul Tribe, others require similar help. The reward is bigger, as the risks.
To help someone is a good deed. Will you still help, if, well, it is a tribe of Orcs that asks for your help?
While setting up camp for the night, the PC's are aproached by another group of adventurers who seem nice enough. The road is somewhat dangerous and the other group suggests camping together. The two bands split watches, one adventurer from each group watching at once. The night goes by without incident, the next day the PC's travel with the other group as they are going the same way.
The group consists of Hordel the ranger, who is skilled with the bow. Hordel is a quiet man who speaks little but appears quite skilled. Dremar is a barbarian who is a little excentric, he seems to be an excasive drinker and thiunk that battle is the solution to everything. He appears to be a stout and powerful fighter with his greataxe. Ferrin is the leader of the group, a rouge by trade. He is daft and witty, speaking with the PCs often and asking many questions. He fights with finesse with his rapier. Preminitat as a cleric but he will not say which god he worships. He uses his spells to empower and heal his party and fights with a club. He sticks close to Ferrin. Ferrin is a great talker and tells much of himself and his party, but asks even more about the history and capabilities of the PCs. He tells of some adventures his party has had, and they seem like an interesting group of mercenaries. Hordel is quite and has little interest in speaking with the PCs, he ignores most questions. He spends a lot of time with Dremar and sometimes Ferrin. Dremar seems to not care about any questions ansked to him, nor does he seem to know the answers. He seems battle hardened and is a simple man. Preminitat rarely starts conversations but will speak with the PCs. However, some of his accounts of the party's history seem to condradict those of Ferrin.
The Party spends another night and day with Ferrin's group. One of four things can happen on the third night.
1: While eating dinner around the fire, Ferrin gets into an argument with one of the PCs when he/she mentions the discepincies between Ferrin's stories and Preminitat's.
2: Hordel gets mad after repeated questioning about his life from the PCs.
3. Preminitat gets mad after repeated questioning from the PCs about what god he worships.
4: One of the PCs rejects the offer of a drink from Dremar and he takes it as an insult.
All of these scenarios result in a battle between the parties. If Ferrin's party is defeated and still lives he swears vengance. His party may then cross paths with the adventurers again.