The Sentinel has always wondered who he was, his past covered in lies and deception, he wishes to seek the truth. But sometimes the truth is hard to take….
An area known for sweeping mountain vistas, and sleepy alpine hamlets has all but exploded with miners, adventurers, and thieves. Dwarves are showing up in troops, while orcs are churning towards the valley. The reason? Simple…
There’s gold in them thar hills!
For years trading ships have come to the Islands of Teanoi seeking treasures of gold, pua shell, and exotic herbs and spices. Trade has dwindled, and ships vanish without a trace, but the trade is too valuable to give up, and thus the ships still come. The islands also lay close to a shipping lane, and are a regular stop for ships seeking only to take on fresh supplies of foodstuffs and water.
Soon merchants begin seeking outside aid to protect their ships from the unknown menace that the islanders call Teanoi…
The PCs are hired to remove splinters of discontent and desertion from the feet of the Prince’s Army…
The tough, hardy adventurers equip up and go out to kill a pack of goblins terrorising the city. Of course, they succeed without trouble and make their way back but their first encounter with a guard patrol on the way back, tells them something is not right…
The unicorns are missing from the land of ‘Magical Airs’. Are they lost? Strayed, or stolen?
What do you do if your employer begins to go mad? Particularly if you’ve managed to build up a long tradition of working for him.
Bandits from a manor overlooking a certain crucial trade pass are gaining power, and nobody knows how.
The empire of Madvar is ruled by a man who is slowly slipping into insanity. And now the gems of Madvar have been stolen.
The adventurers are called upon to help a lord aide a group of “wild men” who are threatened by Bugbears and whoever is behind them. Most people seemed unconcerned with these savage people, but are they really so savage? This is a very fully described plot, a complete adventure.
A Castle or better a fortified tower is floating over the country side and being attacked by goblins (or other monsters, depending on PC strength)
People disappear under mysterious cicumstances, undead creatures are seen and the villain is 14 years old.
A great Evil has settled across the land. A sage of your acquaintance thinks he have a solution. He found several references to an older tome of healing that details such a crisis and gives a solution. The Tome of Klorak. However, all copies were destroyed a century ago, as the clerics call him a heretic. One copy might remain. It is in the royal library in the lost city of Asylum.
The Queen of Thieves is a mysterious person. All that is know about her is that she’s the greatest living thief in the world. Some even say she doesn’t exist. Oh, she exists all right. And maybe it’s a good thing no one knows about her…
It is said that somewhere in the wilderness, there is a well with miraculous powers. Some said that it bestowed eternal youth. Some said it contained all of the knowledge in the world. There were other rumors. But they remain only rumors, for of all of those that sought the well, only two returned. And they did not return the same…
Silent voices in the catacombs of hush demand call out to the King in his sleep. He awakes, pale as bone, raving and delusional, whispering of the Retribution of the Charred Skulls. The servants look on horrified at their foaming lord…
A mad necromancer is bent on enslaving the world.
The Sword has returned from long and ancient exile. Can it’s glory be kept from falling into the wrong hands?
Inspired by Ria Hawk’s “Lifecycle of the Dungeon” discussion.
The PC’s come across a cave system that isn’t on their map. The cave is in plain view and hard to miss. Once inside, several odd and unusual things are found.
To help someone is a good deed. Will you still help, if, well, it is a tribe of Orcs that asks for your help?
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.