"I knew Lwausf would be angry when we banished him, but I didn't see the whole undead-bearman-projectile thing coming. Looking back it was kind of inevitable. "
Prince Gorim, Lord of the Mounatian Hall at Silverspike
100 word Plot
Each new home prides itself on its idol and as each new home receives its idol, the power within them grows, glows and connects. ...They are the bringers of wonderment and gifts but little do the townsfolk know, for the Shithiran are the takers of everything.
The Lord has a new girlfriend, and nobody is happy about it.
A huge castle whose foundations are crumbling…A murderer on the run in the caverns below.
Revolution is upon them. Like a worm-riddled timber the Kingdom is rife with discontent, and the aristocrats are being evicted, their castles burnt and ruined. For those who escape, life looks bleak…
A mighty force is building in the East, and all of Strolen’s Citadel must band together if we are to have any hope of defeating it.
In the dry steppelands, one of their most valuable exports is the dried sap of the Larthorn tree. These ugly plants are covered with vicious thorns, but the locals harvest the golden droplets that ooze from their bark each Autumn. This sap, once dried, is valued for its medicinal properties and as a spice. Since little gold or silver is found in the hinterland, the dried droplets of sap are often used as currency by the locals.