“Sir, Legatus Suuhai has commanded us to hold and prepare for flank attacks from the enemy. He said we are to hold and be ready to sweep among them. Your order?
Order? If Legatus Suuhai says to hold then we wait. He among the half breeds I respect. He stands like a bastion of strength when those stronger leave puddles at their feet. He says hold, we hold. But tell the others, soon we shall run and blood shall spill this day at our hooves and claws and the Dark Moon shall reign superior yet again.”
Sedecim Ductor Octavious - Commander of the 6th Divortium of the Army of Blades.
It is quoted in the Canon of St. Mancel that once in his life, that every devout soul should make pilgrimage to the holy city of Sangreal.
They stood on the crest of the rise, three men deep. Their banners, Golden Lions Rampant on a split field of red and blue, fluttering on long poles in the wind. They were silent. By some signal, they all began to rush forward screaming their battle roar. Halberd and blade coming open on the move. The enemy line broke under the power of the Lion’s signature charge.
Major Advarete, Memoirs of the Twin Rose Wars 1320 Greenfield Presses
Deep beneath the central tower laid the chambers of the Arcane. This is where the mages, witches and warlocks place those creations they deem to dangerous. The crystal bell Ã?Â Beloth Ã?Â was such a creation. Shortly after it was created by Magnus of Cormalth, it got into the hands of a cunning mercenary captain known as Harlan Marcus. Let’s shorten the tale and just say that the mages in the college valley did not like to have Harlan and his men roaming about the valley, helping themselves to the mages valuables. The bell rendered the college magic useless, and the mages locked themselves in, awaiting Harlan, armed with brooms, pottery and kitchen utensils.
The bell was later recovered, together with Harlan himself, and both were locked away in the chambers of the arcane.
This is the conclusion to the Prophecies of Redemption Campaign. The characters have sojourned through mountains and lowlands to reach the forest in which the entrance to the demon lord’s citadel can be found.
But the Citadel is not what one could expect. Can the PCs find their way in and survive to tell the tale?
Near the summit of mount Arak’nui, the remnants of the elven race still lingers. Their hearts darkened, their spirits broken, they have turned to evil and embraced demon-worship.
Darkness and bitterness has consumed them, and they have turned away from their gods and summoned demons to inhabit the flesh and souls of the willing. Shadow dancers these elves are called, and they are an instrument of revenge, wreaking havoc wherever they dance into the midst of the enemy. It was an alliance hastily made in those desperate days three centuries ago, but as the elves witnessed the agony and change visited upon the shadowdancers they regret the decision more and more.
Crystal Hornets are heard long before they are seen. Their humming is like the beautiful sound of a violin that is being played by a master musician,and to those who have encountered them before, it acts as a warning.
Many know the image of the Night-Mare, a sable horse wreathed in a nimbus of hellfire sent from the underworld every night to deliver dreams of terror and fear to the living. While this is not entirely incorrect, the truth is more complicated…
Brutal are the Seitch raids that come up out of the vast waste of the Calcobrinan desert. They come clad in dusky browns, bearing black iron weapons, raiding for food, water, gold, and women.
It is a common conceit that banks, loans, investment and other features of the banking and financial system are entirely modern. This is far from the truth, as long as there has been money, there have been people who profitted from holding it and manipulating it.
An enormous Angoath was holding a young recruit in his hands, his body broken and blood seeping freely from between the cracks of his banded armour. The dead legionary’s head lolled unnaturally; obviously the neck had been crushed. It was amazing how fast these creatures could move and suddenly it lowered its head and charged headlong towards me, no doubt intending to skewer me on that sharp, spiky ridge. All around me I glimpsed similar scenes. The Angoath were washing over us like a wave of black silver, their claws rending us apart, their teeth chewing into our armour.
Long sword built from storm sword shard. Empowered with the force of storm-water.
Love is a powerful emotion, perhaps the strongest. Love conquers all, don’t they say; it’s blind too. Love potions, love spells, and the magic of amore could be more common than all the magic swords, rings, and wands of magic missle put together…
Stebanos paint is a tool of the poisoner’s culture of Tekne, mixed in with make-up, to make a Tekneani noble’s pale adornments deadly.
Falconry and Hawking has been important skill in a variety of places through out history. It is the sport of nobles and nomads, and many in between. In some places and times, Raptors are bonded to people, using their magic connection to everyones benefit. It is only natural that magical items connected to raptors and Hawking came into existence.
Assassins are always there to be had, for a price. Sometimes, those wishing to hire assassins for very little find their way to the Thrillkill Society.
Many noble lords offend people of equal or greater rank as themselves. In the kingdom of Aoh Chiane, these offenses are dealt with in duels. But, of course, the nobility of Aoh Chiane do not fight their own fights…
What can be more maddening than the eternal sobbing of a child whom no one can comfort?
The Magic of Tyren goes deeper than what one might expect…
“Once a tiny thread, woven with a heart so true…now a cloak that will to its wearer bond.”
In nature, for instance, a rhino has flies and ticks etc, that live on the hide and live off the blood. Rhino will visit and lie in ponds where turtles will clean the underwater portion of the ticks and a species of bird will clean the the top of ticks and other parasites. What if where the characters camp there were a species of animals that lived off wounds of the creatures. PCs camp. Anybody with wounds on there body are soon covered with small rodent - insect - shadows - whatever. Would immediately see it as a threat I would imagine. But perhaps one of the wounded didn't wake up when it happened, and when they did finally wake they were completely healed. Perhaps somebody was warned of something attacking them but they were able to notice that the wound was actually getting smaller instead of larger. Or maybe they successfully beat the creatures off them and don't notice an improvement, marking this place never to rest at ever again....later learn that villagers send their wounded there but they keep it a guarded secret because they don't want all the attention or traffic and what comes with such a special gift. Could turn into something more too if characters decide to start blabbing about it.