A journalist is preparing a story on Agency 17. Predictably, the Agency would like it if the story died...
The players are sent on their first mission for Agency 17: Stealing Sarin from a right-wing militia group in rural Texas
Someone wants Prince Philoj dead. Or?
Set a number of decades after part one.
Prince Tibalt survived his unique birth into the world and is now grown into the King of Jaegerwald. Jaegerwald is no stranger to werewolves, but when members of the kings staff and council start transforming with no apprent contact with werewolves, the PCs are charged with finding and destroying this hidden monster.
Set in a heavily wooded kingdom of reknown werewolf hunters.
A princess on a hunt goes missing. Rumors of a new, more fierce werewolf surface. The party needs to find the princess before she or her seven month pregnancy are in danger.
The village of Far Tragin is deep within the dangerous Northen wastes. Yet somehow it has avoided destruction by the monsters who dwell there. The PCs discover that it is a deal with an unlikly ally that protects this town. However, this deal may be failing and Far Tragin is in jeoprady.
The Pcs discover an ancient, dusty oil lamp, somewhere in the bowels of a dungeon. Naturally they "rub it", and out pops a wizened, old djinn. So far so good. Then it speaks...
"Ah at last, at last I am free! Now grant me my wish!"
When the PCs explain that they are the ones that should be granted a wish, the malignant djinn explains to them that his particular oil-lamp has a curse placed upon it. Whomsoever releases the entity inside shall be geased to grant the djinn's wish to the best of their ability.
Groans ensue from the party. The djinn rubs his wrinkled hands, grins, and proceeds to name his wish. What could it be?