Each town has a House of the King. This is the main one, and by far the largest, set in the heart of the capitol's temple district.
Telchar, the half Orchish ruled planet similar to planet Earth.
A realm of unending darkness, pitch blackness, where even light refuses to shine.
The Road to the Hundred Angels
Sid and Jir were childhood friends growing up in the same town on the ocean. Both creative geniuses, both with the need to be better than the other. Many will tell you that this friendship created their genius while others realized, in hindsight, that it spelled the lands doom.
A portmanteau of the words Architecture and Ecology, arcologies are megastructres that are built with an eye towards environmentally friendliness.
A handful of tables for randomly generating a colorful history for castles and other fortresses.
Seven first-born sons pose a unique challenge for this small kingdom.
With but a name, these places fill common folk with apprehension and dread
The sky is drab and gray, almost completely covered in rainclouds. What gaps there are open up to show yet more gray. Much like mortal demesnes, the weather is unpredictable, but every so often the clouds unleash their burden of water on the residents of this boring land.
Welcome to the Hell of Half-Nothings. Your stay will be boring, we guarantee it.
30 places for the most vile villany to take place in. (unfinished.)
The world was ripped apart in a great cataclysm 3,000 years ago. This is a Codex of the pocket realms created by that great sundering.
"Whosoever shall brew ale in the town with intention of selling it must hang out a sign, otherwise he shall forfeit his ale."
King Richard II, 1393
The Imperial city has been sucked into hell and the rest of the world has been ripped apart. And tying it all together is the Crystal Tower. The Tower lives in all realms, a needle piercing the fabric of each reality and threading them all together.
"Hey, Hultz. What are you doing in here?"
"It's gonna move. I don't like it when it moves," the stableboy replied, sitting by the hearth with his arms wrapped around himself.
"What's going to move?"
"The Inn. I don't like it when it moves."
Five minutes later, he gets up and goes back outside.
"What was he talking about?" the newcomer asked a burly fighter.
"Go outside and take a look."
He goes over to the door and flings it wide. "See, it's all still ... Wait! Where did the town go!"
"Welcome to the Brotherhood of the Wild Geese." The fighter comes over with a mug of ale. "Here, you'll probably be needing this. I know I did, when it happened to me."
An ancient people built mystical fortresses made of melted stone; from the wall’s these fortresses defenders appeared to burn with a powerful energy and strike at their opponents with a supernatural force. Today most of these forts are abandoned and the art that made them lost.
“The perfect execution, painless, quiet, and beautiful”
No shadow may find a home within its walls.
Some notable locations in the city.
One day nothing, two weeks later they had a pre-con base deployed and instead of a stagnant zone we had a category three offensive breathing down our neck, damn the bastards who came up with that monstrosity, and our own bastards for not having any of our own!