A dashing Bard, who also happens to be a shared drug experience.
A sinister book that forces the reader to relive painful memories by presenting idealized versions of their outcomes.
Thoral’s grim brigade is a mercenary unit under curse. They are led by Thoral, a half-undead half-realdead reanimated barbarian who negotiates the brigades affairs in a terse and direct whisper.
A Magic ring, made from the storm shards. It can transform the morality of a person and contain them until the world has forgotten them. In effect it renews a person after their own personal storm.
With the application of kinetic energy, this shard radiates the aura of worry, fear, and doubt that the fiercest storms bring.
Magical gem that scrys storms, and allows the wielder to “walk” them.
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, reading old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.