Remember Harold and his purple crayon?
Can you think while scared out of your wits? Lets hope your adventurers can…
In the dark alleys of Malcaresh, the Caravan City of the Plains, many an adventurer meets his death at the end of an unseen blade. Even more part unwillingly with their belongings, having fallen victim to the thieves and cutthroats plying their old and ignoble trade. Yet even among these, the whispers of House Caraguil invoke fear and discomfort.
A single room in the lair of those cast away by the gods, this place of worship is nothing the adventurers are likely to expect here.
Sometimes a painting is just a painting.
This is not one of those times.
The dread Tower of Inversion, lair of the vile lich Zarakoth Xorast, contains five layers, each containing different tools of dark magic.
In an area albinos are considered to be evil mystics and locals ward themselves against them by turning their backs to them to avoid being mesmerized. Suddenly the angeliclly pale loner with white hair and violet hued-eyes is suddenly an outcast, and his companions are treated as if they have been mystically bonded into his service, and could be treated with attempts to intervene or given the same stony treatment. Expect poor quarters, no hospitality and to pay twice as much for everything.