Some years ago a dark cult was founded in the Forecastle area of Hahvrensburg. The cultists were defeated by a band of heroes. A month after the heroes left the city and went on about their business, something massive came out of the earth.
The Cynocephali are those wretched beings who are cursed to walk the earth after death for the betrayal of those most dear to them. The gods look upon such traitors with terrible anger, and as such, those who do nothing to remedy their betrayal or offset the sin are doomed to an eternal unlife, bearing the head of a dog.
Seemingly lit from within, autumn foliage blazes with color in the late-afternoon sun. Yet, is is spring.
Trodways Known by Ericus Huntcrafter pub 1185 p. 245
The Pelezians, or “clay people” were strongly bound to the earth. In fertile plains and valleys they lived their happy existence, peaceful, yet ever on their guard. Many nomadic attackers they defeated, until a different enemy came; their advanced technology and weapons (and magic) were beyond the skills of defenders. One-by-one their settlements fell, until the clay people were not more.
To the greedy students of the past, their heritage is but not forgotten.
The Sark-Hound is a basic form of Sark which is created for a very specific purpose, to wit, the hunting and killing of the necromancer’s enemies (in Centas, the place of the banal zombie is taken by these creatures).
In the royal year 451, also known as the year of Red Leaves, something strange occured. A star fell blazing from the heavens, in to the Midlands. Imperial Wizardry could be sent to examine the object. However things changed in the area. Royal Viziers were unable to postulate a cause for the matter, but the fact that none of the countyfolk were alive led to the whisper of one, chilling word. Zombie.
There are some men who treat their wives the way they would chattel,that is,with utter control and domination,regarding their spouses not as independent beings entitled to their free will,but as mere objects of theirs,subject to the will of their lords. Such is the nature of those doomed to become the Possessive Ones,upon their death.
The Poison Eaters Tribe dwells deep in the jungle glades of the Ushaika, in the lowest reaches of the undergrowth where no sunlight pierces through the leaves, and where the marshy ground wells up with tea-colored water at the lightest step.
Lai-Xeng was a traveling scholar and wise man. There are a hundred tales attributed to him, each one containing a kernal of wisdom.
At this time an old man, one who told the Prince wondrous tales during his childhood, walked upon the bridge and witnessed the prince commit suicide, saw him fall into the water. “This is the Bridge of Fates. I foresee great sorrow and happiness. This bridge shall never remain neutral, shall know tears of joy and the blood of innocents”.
This is a scroll for every rumor or tale you might here from a friend or in a bar.
The Azhag (‘ah-ZHAHG’; from Old West-Carmanian azadg, meaning watchman, sentry), called Tomb Guardians or Demon Shadows, are the terrible Undead guardians of the tombs of the Ancient Ones.
Hiding deep within catacombs of the ancients, in low, deep alcoves where they lie, spider-like, awaiting the taste of fresh blood, there are the hideous Torlakia, dark beings who once lived and are now, fearfully, undead.
Undead are, simply put, among the most horrific things one can think of. Can you imagine anything more frightening than a being which is dead and yet still walks? Can you imagine the horror of being faced by the hollow shell of being, a hollow shell which must feed?
These purses, made by the Dai Kiri, while looking harmless in nature, were made dangerous weapons by those who knew how to use them.
Baldamont Castle is one of the great Line of Civilization defensive posts created by the vassels of the Great King Arcturus to defend the realm from the Barbaric Northmen. Over the last two centuries, the Line of Civilization has move considerably north, leaving great castles without barbarians to defend against. Yet this castle still defends the realm, not by repelling invaders, but by holding enemies of the state.
This tavern is the place-to-be establishment of Shorenar Vas, a bustling riverside trade town of Veldea. Each night the tavern packs full of practically every man with a heavy pocket and a round stomach in the town. Should you be in the area, there’s no place better for some good slop and a quick flop than the Golden Frog.
This article is also know as World Building 1A.
How may times have you read a book in which a famous hero’s sword is treasured and valued, not because it is magic, or because of its powers, but just because the hero wielded it. The “Sword of Enthar” the great warrior may just be a normal steel broadsword; but because he used it, it will be prized and treasured.
Literally, Campaigns are like plants. They can only grow if the conditions are right. The GM must plant them in the correct place and right environmental conditions (i.e. the players must like the ideas behind the games and be willing to play in them). Just like the gardener must prepare the soil and growing environment, the GM must create the basics of the campaign before play.