It seems unfair that this one hasn't been given more attention. I particularly liked the Italian Renaissance ambiance; it summoned up mental images of intricately adorned Florentine palaces and the nobles that dwelt within.
Taking a page from the Decameron (Why not? Everyone else already has...), I picure a group of bored young noble retreating to the countryside to wait out an outbreak of Plague ravaging the cities. While some of the nobles pass the days in frivolous pursuits, romantic intrigues, and telling stories, others disdain the company of their empty-headed peers. One among their number is quite skilled at a simply fascinating new style of art; in the quiet of the pastoral palace, he hopes to complete his masterpiece...
When the creatures of shadow claim their due, there will be nowhere for the shallow nobles to run. Go to Comment
From the description, it doesn't sound like they could concentrate to write. They are so focused on telling their story and so frustrated that they can't stand even the delay entailed by writing. It would seem too obvious a loophole for the powers that cursed them to overlook. Go to Comment
Bone Daddy's Color Enhancers
Are you tired of the same old look? Have you been sporting the same "fresh from the tomb" style that you had when you were first reanimated? That may work for the other guys, but not for a veteran undead that's been around the ossuary a few times! You need Bone Daddy's Skeletal Color Enhancement!
These brightly-colored dyes and pigments bond solidly to the bone, giving long-lasting color! When others are shambling around in a clichéd off-white, you can be prismatic yellow, rich gold, bloody crimson, glaring green, or regal purple. Be the unlife of the party! Clerics that once reached for their Holy Symbols will cower in awe of your impressive fashion sense!
If you order now, you get a free sampling of Bone Daddy's "Polish Up Death Scarabs"! Free yourself of unsightly dangling flesh! Say goodbye to the old-fashioned scavengers that have caused others so much trouble: Our scarabs are guaranteed to strip flesh from bone faster than a flock of vultures and don't steal parts the way jackals are prone to! Go to Comment
This is a cool NPC! It definitely needs a lot of editing and revision, but he has a lot of interesting details and quirks! Squeaky red leather armor, the mysterious bird that heralded his freedom, his odd appearance, golems drooling mud, it's all very unusual and cool.
I like him, but I wholeheartedly agree with the comments that you have already received. You should print a copy of your writing and have a friend edit it; it's hard to see your own mistakes or odd phrasing, but it's easy to see someone else's mistakes. The author Clark Ashton Smith used to sit in the park and read his stories aloud; that let him find the parts that didn't sound the way he had intended. I recommend that you do so as well.
I also would like to see more of the mysterious master sorcerer Mandible Silvio and his golems. Go to Comment
Chilled! You can see how we all want this to live up to its true potential! Enough with building the suspense; grasp the hilt and pull this sword from its stone!
You've revised it a bit already, but looking at it, I would like to see a little bit more information added:
Why did the renowned High Elven smiths of Verasialles (I'm not fond of the name either) craft this weapon using the rare metal Morthile? What is special about this metal that it is so valuable?
What did the Elven champion that first wielded "Chill" call his unique fighting style? What was unusual about this style? Was he from the village, or do champions from distant lands quest to find the hidden village of the masterful elven smiths, there to petition the smiths that they might have a weapon crafted?
What kind of sword is it? I picture the sword as a longsword with a narrow, lightweight blade, constantly encrusted with frost. Beneath the covering layer of frost, an inlay of elven script can barely be distinguished, delicate letters running along the blade's fullers. Its silver hilt forms a protective guard that curves down to protect the fingers.
When wielded, what is the sword like? I don't mean game effects, you have that down. I mean, what does it look like to someone watching it? What does it feel like to be struck with it or to wield it? Go to Comment
I wonder how many other ways this potion could express its power. Could it be used to elevate someone of feeble talents into greatness (Or at least mediocrity?) For example, Artus the Lame is challenged to a footrace and hopes to achieve a moderate trot, or Grollgurg the Hunchbacked must seduce a cynical barmaid... After all, Zero x 3 = Zero... Go to Comment
This brings back memories of one of the most enjoyable little campaigns I ever ran, which featured the heroes as explorers mapping a small island archepelago. The setting I used waaaaay back then was Judge's Guild's "Isles of the Blest", part of their Wilderlands series. Each island had a line or two describing what could be found there.
I'm starting to think that I want to revisit that type of game. With this material, the party could have quite an Odyssey. Go to Comment
73) Blackrobe Island
This wind-swept island is dominated by an unusual monastery, a structure of ancient, weathered stone, surrounded by lush gardens of oddly misshapen plants. Those approaching the monastery may catch a distant glimpse of robed monks hurriedly retreating behind the stout walls of the place.
The monks avoid contact with approaching mariners for several reasons. In addition to their vows, which dictate a life of quiet seclusion, they aren’t human. The creatures dwelling upon this island are “serpent folk”, a lingering remnant of the reptilian species that once built great cities on the mainland, but which is remembered only for their degenerate descendants.
These reptilian monks celebrate strange and cruel religious rituals, to which they will admit no warm-blooded creature. They will send forth an envoy to deal with strangers, a massive and ancient leader of their sect, who will communicate only by writing (or drawing) with his claw upon a waxen tablet. While they will not seek conflict with outsiders, they are not a pacifistic sect: Their elders will not hesitate to unleash lethal and ancient magical powers against those who threaten them. Go to Comment
When the captains of passing ships peer with their spyglasses, they can make out hundreds of small boats pulled up on the shores of Shearwood Island. Weathered and cracked, half-buried by sand, some of the boats have clearly been there for years or decades. The local sailors have dozens of tales of horrors beyond reckoning, mysterious terrors hunting those who land on the forboding island, but none of these tales answers the question: Where did all those boats come from?
No one appears to dwell on the desolate island, and those heavily-armed parties that explored the place didn't find anything, so where DO all the boats come from? It turns out that a tribe of undersea ogres lives nearby, and enjoys snacking on passing fishermen. Some decades ago, their leader encountered a powerful mage, who bound him never to sink a ship, but to allow them to land safely. In order to pervert his geas, the ogre cleverly forced boatmen onto the nearby island, where he was able to do as he wished with his victims. His successors, understanding nothing of this taboo, faithfully drive the boats of their prey to the island as their ancestors once did. Go to Comment