"I am not an ambitious man. I am a farmer, like many of you I am glad to say. And like you my pride does suffer because of my role, for it is farmers that make our empire great, I know this and you know this, only our great and illustrious leaders are in the dark, but if you make me Tribune I assure you I will let them know!"
Maric Ameus addressing crowds in the capital
Piash is a half-elf outcast deep within an imperial province. He has been rejected by everyone around him his entire life. He has no family, even his last name, Nildar means ‘no-clan’. But his mixed blood holds a curse that is finally starting to surface.
Daltorz was the greatest weapon of the Summoners and but in the end he caused the downfall of hundreds of magicians and today his very name strikes terror in the hearts of wizards.
You have been assigned to hire an assassin by another middleman to kill some rich mans enemy. You go to the assassins guild to find you have quite a choice.
The are 30 thieves, killers and other criminals that ought to be behind bars.
James does not have any intrest in power, money or any of the other things necromancers normally desire. He is a content man but as he is hounded by his former and disappointed master he is being pushed quite close to the edge.
From the age of 15 he was trained to be a gladiator and for the next seven years he was, until he broke free in order to fight and defeat his capturers. For the past several years he has been waiting for that moment.
The Wizard-Brewers of the Old Empire stored memories in bottles of mead, passing their brightest ideas, most subtle magics, and most important decisions on to their heirs in bottles of oddly-flavored honey-wine. A cache of these ancient magical vintages has been unearthed, but does anyone dare drink from it? The ancient mead's creator is a complete mystery, as are the thoughts he left behind.