A man-made bridge between two tall hills that began as a wonder to an ancient empire and now is turned into the final stand of a desperate kingdom.
We charged their walls but the defenses held us off, hidden bunkers sprang out of nowhere and turrets wreaked havoc on our forces. Gun pits blasted our army to pieces and we pulled back a shell came out of the sky and destroyed several siege towers, we where finished.
Some hear The Blue calling them. They would rather embrace it than stay another day.
An island of stone above the valley, the Manor Home D’Marsarac sits upon a green promotory above the farming valley below. From this island in the sky (an illusion created by the thick morning fog) various noble families have administered to this fertile valley for centuries.
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?