In a time when synth-brewing and artificial concoctions are the norm, Burly Bill's Beautiful Beverages stands out amongst the gleaming storefronts with its dark oak frames around stained glass windows.
Seven wonders of the Dwarven World
A new take on hell that leaves you gasping on the edge of panic.
Those cast out of eternal life by the Great God Juffo find themselves lost forever in the Non. Here, away from both His Holy Warmth and the cold, harsh vengance of His Adversary, Zeln, there is truly nothing.
When wizards go mad, what curious ruins do they leave behind?
The Scratching Stone has always been an area of interest for the local people. A huge slab of granite with a top a couple of acres in area, it is out of place when compared with the other rock formations in the area. It has bore many names - Evenstone, the Great Altar, the Giant’s Dinnertable and others lost to time.
The Eye is known by a number of names: The Eye of Motoss, Eye of Argus, Night Eye of Day, Eye of “Insert God”, depending on the local legend. Motoss is the most common of names, based on the story of a man who could look into a box with a hole in the top and watch an entire land, its history unfolding before his eye.
"When our barbarian ancestors first arrived on the plains of our homeland, they found them covered in dust inches thick. They named them Muranvan, the Dusty Plains and armed with spades they cleared the dust heaving it off the edge of the world. For they had been chasing the Prey for long aeons up the face of the cliffs at the edge of the world, and in the chase had tired of their nomadic ways. They wanted a stable home. So they founded Takvanak, the City on the Plains. In the long silence after they had cleared the dust from Muranvan, rang out the deep and unforgettable tones of the Iron Heart, Saekeri, and the barbarians knelt and felt resounding reverence."
- The Saekeran, book 1 verse 1.
The PCs have travelled long and far. As nightfall approaches a mighty storm is unleashed. Luckily there is a lush wood nearby the path.
A good shelter for the rage of the unnamed weather gods it seams at first. As the PCs enter under the roof of this dense wood, they are welcomed by only a few drops wich is allowed trough the thick forest crown. A fire is offcourse required to warm the weary bones of the travellers. As one of the party is set to the task of collecting firewood the others settle down at a suitable location. But alas, they did not know the perils of this forest. But it seems clear to the rest of the party that something ill is at work as the woodcutters scream echo from afar.