The Horrors and Wonders of a distant, sun-drenched land. Everything you need to run a desert campaign!
Font of Damnable Contemplation
A place more holy than any other
These are the worlds and planets encountered by daring space explorers.
There lies a valley, far to the west, on the shores of The Great Northern Sea, that has a mist that is both blessing and curse. All those that breath the mist heal with remarkable speed, so fast that only the mightiest blow or the truest strike can fell the smallest beast. The warriors who settled this land became soilders of great renown, for not only were they impenetrable defenders, they were warriors whose aim and might were unsurpassed.
In the realms, not all fortifications are walls of wood, stone and iron.
"Summon the Legions! We shall offer battle within Bleak Vale! This time, OUR cause shall triumph!"
101 plug and play communities in 10 sub-categories
The sea is calm, the morning mists clear, the seagulls cry out, and land comes into view
Deep in the rugged Thunderhead mountain range lies the valley of Akelor, once a paradise, now a battleground where reality itself struggles to contain an alien, evil infestation
An adventure, Sourcebook and Monster Compendium set in the Locastus universe
Nestled among the smaller and less noticed store fronts, hidden among the sundry vendors, and purveyors of beads, cheap jewelry, and meat-on-a-stick products in a small building that smells strongly of hot linen, cotton, soap…and goblin.
Awhile ago I started a small list of random villages…I think many turned out to be plots, but thought I would throw them out here for fun.
Come visit Qacha’s Neck. Home of the Worlds Oldest Cat
During certain years, people in Akgku claim to observe a green flame coming from the sea and erupting upward. It can be observed from a distance of two days’ journey or more. After burning for a considerable time, the flame disappears.
—Falklyde Wodinger, Haraconian scholar, in route to wondrous Udross and legendary Akgku.
The slums of Locastus
The Mines are quite old, but even after 700 years, they still produce the Queen’s best iron ore…
Once a place where the great merchants of the city met, this decrepit square has become a thriving marketplace for the poor and the unwanted. Many a shady deal has been made among its stalls and hidden recesses.
The Great King long ago ceased attempting to police the wastelands of his Border Marches, and these debatable lands fell into the hands of petty counts, retired generals, and warlords, who constructed and then abandoned many keeps ripe for plunder.
Beachcombing and coast-hugging, fantasy style. Animal, mineral, and vegetable. Sea-Junk. Flotsam and jetsam. Encounters and other oddities.
...In the hallowed halls of the University of Linnarson a glimpse may sometimes be caught of the Senior Masters, learned sages and masters of knowledge. They seldom leave their dusty studies full of learned tomes, other than to dine - each evening they will be found shuffling down the dimly lit corridors to the dark and shuttered Great Hall. After feasting at high table by candlelight they will be gone, returning once more to their studies. None but they know of their pact with death, how they have willingly embraced an eternal undeath in which to pursue knowledge, yet this is the reason for the darkened corridors and the shuttered hall, for those who are undead cannot abide the light of the sun…
A magic speaking sword of great power-which is also a racist, obnoxious and unpleasent, so much so that those who carry it often *gag* the hilt of it, the taking part, with cloth to shut it up.