"Get me the sugar!" called Jack's wife. His heart skipped a beat as he stood before the cabinet. Holding his breath, he slowly opened it.... Dangit! A baby!
Barathra is quite simply the Land of the Dead, the Afterlife. It, simply put, defies the Atheians' expectations. After all, for most, it is Hell.
You walk into the room and it is like stepping into the grand library. Wall to wall and floor to ceiling is taken up by leather bound loaded bookshelves. All of the tomes are in varying states of decay and none of which are new.
The term is archaic, calling upon the ancient language of the magi, and those versed in the eldritch arts. In the more vulgar argot, terms such as scrying room and equally mundane names are bandied about. The fact that such limited terms are used to describe the proper mystic's psychomanteum demonstrates how little they actually know about what occurs within.
No where else in the world of Atheus is the maxim "Power is money" so readily apparent than it is in Obstaria. And since, as they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely, decadence and corruption has crept into the kingdom of Obstaria.
I know a guy who says he found a tower in the woods and saw a man fall out the window - straight up!
Did you ever wonder where the moon comes from?
In the place where Atheus lies, there are three separate planes, three realms for the intrepid to explore. One of these is Congeria, land of the demons. The home of darkness, the mount of Chaos, Evil's Playpen, all of these are names drawn up by the Atheian peoples.
As is the norm for cases such as these, they could not be further from the truth.
Incarceration in the Cosmic Era, adjustable for futuristic and dystopian settings
Sometimes a roadblock is there for a reason. There are some places you don't want to be after sundown.
The land of Vartanadel is full of twisted and fabricated truths. To stay in power, one must play the game.
A game of chance, a long night of winning, and one last victory put the title to the Tortoise Shell Tavern into Humblestaff's hands. Now he just needs a group to help find it and "evict one or two unwanted guests," whatever the former owner meant by that.
The eldest civilization in the land with a king that can create and destroy royalty on a whim.ddd
This dusty, delapidated building appears to have been abandoned for some time. Within it is a plethora of ancient tomes and ancient knowledge, however rumours of a deadly curse keep curious scholars at bay.
"The perfect pet at the perfect price -- guaranteed." Creature Dex at the bottom of the sub, if you want to include "relatively harmless" alien critters in your campaign.
An overview of the world of Kalimon, including a summary of its history and the inhabitants. This is still a work-in-progress setting and more details may be added at a later date.
The Oracle of Ein (pronounced un) is a relic devoted to the sole idol of faith remaining on the world of Kalimon after Elementallion, a major catastrophe.
A look at slums and shanty towns in the Cosmic Era
Molk Peruda is encountered by the PCs on the second day of their journey west from the salt-choked port of Quyn, as they prepare to explore the jungle.
He appears a gaunt, wolfish man, with matted, dark hair that sprouts from his head in dreadlocks, contrasting with his well-oiled, blue-black, conical beard. His eyes are hidden ebon shards beneath thick arching brows, his nose, crooked, long, and reminiscent of a snout. His mouth is a thin, dark line, his teeth unseen even when he parts his lips to speak.
His skin is the color of tallow, surprising perhaps for a renowned jungle guide, yet his natural helm of dreads and the jungle's canopy keeps the sun from bronzing his originally pale flesh. On his back are tattooed three women from the waist up, side-by-side, each resembling the other but of different ages. This is a tattoo of Molk's mother, sister, and daughter. His wife (don't bring her up to him!) was killed by marauding Qullan years ago, and appears as her own tattoo on his broad but sunken chest.
His feet shockingly are turned around 180 degrees at the ankle, facing towards his back! A curse from a pernicious shaman. Molk walks feet backwards (he's used to it) and walks backwards, forwards. This can be very disconcerting and outright creepy to the PCs as he guides them through the rainforest.
Slung from his back is an archer's quarrel of treated wood carved to resemble a stalking leopard, in his hand a re-curved composite bow of horn and sinew, with a pair of vivid, red eyes, each one painted on the opposite side of the hand-grip. In a leather sheath at his belt, hangs a falchion, its pommel adorned with a curved bird's head and beak.
7xp
New Submissions
A wishing well is nothing more that a place to hope and dream. A token offering is given with the silly notion that the wish just might come true. But what happens when these wishes start to come true, on a regular basis?