Think of any bizzare life-form, WHATEVER life-form that lives a not-so-standard way. Not the way common sense would expect it. Make it in some way logical or not, just forget the boring everyday logic.
A place more holy than any other
“Return to me,” she said, and as he died, he said: “I shall return”.
And though the years flew like sparrows from disturbed nest, he did return, year after year…
Flame burns hot, bringing warmth, life, and hope. Anti-Fire burns too, but it devours heat, and saps the will of life. Before the world could be inhabited, all of the coldfire, and anti-fire had to be collected an hidden away safely. The gods did this, placing it in an urn of brass and hiding it away from the world.
The evil mage Zarakoth is dead, but with his death the world has gone mad. The aging characters are confronted on all sides by rot, death and decay whilst around them the world regresses rapidly to the stone age. Furthermore, Zarakoth seems to have miraculously not died - and to be more powerful than ever.
“Your eye, your eye!” crowed Imupokith, the Sea-Witch, and Vruthath, clutching his bleeding socket, held out his hand.
Upon the palm was a staring green eye.
These are not ordinary gems, these are Thrar Stones. They are rocks that have been caught in the trunks of growing trees. Over thousands of years they are forged from stone to gem.
“Yes, these boots are very fine,” said Smoke’s Empty Lens, “But I do not care for them, nor for you.”
Firefly River wept a single tear and went away…
Made by an anarchist trying to seed dissent, the potions actually work better than normal potions of understanding languages ... sort of.
This item is silly.
A curiously designed ring - but not uncommon. Similar in design to most traditional ‘magi-rings’, which often hold enchantments on them. But unlike those rings, this one may take quite a hold on you…
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 strange, mystical box, with many rumours attached, that does not want to reveal its secret…
There lies a valley, far to the west, on the shores of The Great Northern Sea, that has a mist that is both blessing and curse. All those that breath the mist heal with remarkable speed, so fast that only the mightiest blow or the truest strike can fell the smallest beast. The warriors who settled this land became soilders of great renown, for not only were they impenetrable defenders, they were warriors whose aim and might were unsurpassed.
Many magical items adventurers seek out help them carry more loot, keep themselves fed and healthy, or just simply hack the bad guys to itty bitty bits. This one lets their loot carry itself.
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.