I know a guy who says he found a tower in the woods and saw a man fall out the window - straight up!
Incarceration in the Cosmic Era, adjustable for futuristic and dystopian settings
The home base of the mighty mech
A game of chance, a long night of winning, and one last victory put the title to the Tortoise Shell Tavern into Humblestaff's hands. Now he just needs a group to help find it and "evict one or two unwanted guests," whatever the former owner meant by that.
A grab-bag of draconic goodness, ready to plug into a variety of settings from Steam-Punk to Modern to Fantasy.
Sid and Jir were childhood friends growing up in the same town on the ocean. Both creative geniuses, both with the need to be better than the other. Many will tell you that this friendship created their genius while others realized, in hindsight, that it spelled the lands doom.
A handful of tables for randomly generating a colorful history for castles and other fortresses.
An ancient people built mystical fortresses made of melted stone; from the wall’s these fortresses defenders appeared to burn with a powerful energy and strike at their opponents with a supernatural force. Today most of these forts are abandoned and the art that made them lost.
“The perfect execution, painless, quiet, and beautiful”
One day nothing, two weeks later they had a pre-con base deployed and instead of a stagnant zone we had a category three offensive breathing down our neck, damn the bastards who came up with that monstrosity, and our own bastards for not having any of our own!
When the king ordered the ‘igh Necromancer put to death, ‘is laboratory just up and walked away!
Lieutenant Andrews, 22nd Imperial Guard Division
Most towers and baileys are defensive, protecting defenders from attackers. This keep tower and bailey is used to protect everyone else from what is within.
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.
Molk Peruda is encountered by the PCs on the second day of their journey west from the salt-choked port of Quyn, as they prepare to explore the jungle.
He appears a gaunt, wolfish man, with matted, dark hair that sprouts from his head in dreadlocks, contrasting with his well-oiled, blue-black, conical beard. His eyes are hidden ebon shards beneath thick arching brows, his nose, crooked, long, and reminiscent of a snout. His mouth is a thin, dark line, his teeth unseen even when he parts his lips to speak.
His skin is the color of tallow, surprising perhaps for a renowned jungle guide, yet his natural helm of dreads and the jungle's canopy keeps the sun from bronzing his originally pale flesh. On his back are tattooed three women from the waist up, side-by-side, each resembling the other but of different ages. This is a tattoo of Molk's mother, sister, and daughter. His wife (don't bring her up to him!) was killed by marauding Qullan years ago, and appears as her own tattoo on his broad but sunken chest.
His feet shockingly are turned around 180 degrees at the ankle, facing towards his back! A curse from a pernicious shaman. Molk walks feet backwards (he's used to it) and walks backwards, forwards. This can be very disconcerting and outright creepy to the PCs as he guides them through the rainforest.
Slung from his back is an archer's quarrel of treated wood carved to resemble a stalking leopard, in his hand a re-curved composite bow of horn and sinew, with a pair of vivid, red eyes, each one painted on the opposite side of the hand-grip. In a leather sheath at his belt, hangs a falchion, its pommel adorned with a curved bird's head and beak.