It was said that the King fell from grace so abruptly that the earth opened up beneath his citadel so he could fall for eternity. This is exactly what happened...
Down it falls, a great concentric castle of dark stone. Cracked and broken, though upright, pieces large and small fall together in concert, frequently dashing against each other, or drawing apart to create wide gulfs to expose the hungry blackness below.
And in this tumbling castle, there sits a king, his head heavy with his crown, his hands clutching his throne in unending terror.
"Cities in the deep? I've never heard such foolishness. A talking lobster? Rubbish!"
"Thandrar was seeing red, the frustration was building as he traded blow after blow with his enemy. Their blade lashed out and drew blood, but instead of weakening Thandrar, he was energized - the last straw! His pent up rage and frustration peaked and he smote his foe with such force as to bisect the fool, bathing himself, his blade and the floor in blood and gore."
A cool, Northern land, populated by the strange Maskenfolk
The author's quips and comments on making the most of your first submission
"That one, you might want to be careful with that. It doesn't like people..."
"A potion? "
Cold, mystic master manipulators.
Got a 30? Want a Generator? Read on!
Want to build a generator? Here's how!
Instrument or Monument? These blur that line.
Few know the secret behind the Flying Monks of Ka-zin is not entirely due to their remarkable skill at acrobatics, but also in the colorful belts they wore.
The product of the Entwiner’s art, this net is carefully crafted with nearly invisible knots in its fine mesh. These knots speak in the language of Entwining Magic, the words of keeping and holding.
They came upon us suddenly, no sound preceding them until the splashing of their feet drew our eyes towards them. The wolf-things neither howled or snarled as they tore into our ranks.
A Sundered Realm, flotsam of a world.
Magic that really gets under your skin.
Shrinkstools are a powerfully enchanted toadstool, typically found in enchanted forests or other secluded magical locations. Watch your step.
"Who would make such a thing?"
To fly. One of man's oldest and fondest dreams. To soar above like a bird, for the joy of it, to explore, or to strike at one's enemies. It is only natural that magic would be turned towards granting this wish.
How long they carried him through those back tunnels, illuminated only by the flickering of torchlight, he had no idea. Then light seemed to explode when they reached the massive chamber. All around, unbelievably large red crystals captured the light of the flames and seemed to multiply it.
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.