He is a beast and a paladin; a monster and a hero. He is a companion to heroes; a walker of the roads. He is not what you expect when you think of as a Hero or Heroic Companion, but he has saved a number of worlds.
He is also one of the largest dogs you will ever meet.
Some elves lose patience teaching the ‘young’ races, and set out to employ harsher methods. A few doubt the very intent of mother nature, and set out to bring their own vision to life.
Just an ordinary woman in a small village, suddenly taken away from her home to a long, long journey… Sounds like something that everyone hopes for himself, something else, something… well, adventurous, doesn’t everyone want something like that?
Do not become the beast you hunt…
He may be a small green goblin but donÃ¢t tell him that or he might show you otherwise.
To many, the clerics of the Gods of Death are reviled as evil monsters, conspirators of demons, and raisers of undead armies. How often is the common perception wrong?
Khass was one of the greatest friends I ever had. So of course, what choice did I have but to save him?
Dear gods above, what have I done?
A lot of travelling singers have a flame or incessant longing in their heart.This woman’s heart holds something more as well.
Always on the cutting edge of fashion and the talk of the courts, Mialee the Beautiful is the supermodel of the fantastic world…
Dracia Eldren was a sharp featured woman. Her long greying hair was pulled back into a severe coif. Narrowed black eyes studied the potential Princess stand-ins. Darcia was well schooled in the ways of ettiquette. She was a seasoned Mistress. Her name was well known about the different Kingdoms and Queendoms.
She was the woman you contacted when you wanted your daughter to become the well cultured and well taught pillar of nobility. She was the woman who schooled young princesses on the fine art of being noble. Dracia was as strict as they come. Years of practice allowed her to use a switch upon her subject without leaving any marks. Only a sharp stinging pain as a reminder of their failures. She lives for her work.
If you wanted to infiltrate a kingdom with a doppleganger…you needed the help of a professional. One who knew all the ends and outs of Princess behavior.
Her dark grey coat hardly never touched the ground as she walked. Her back arched and her head held up proudly. Darcia fingered the switch at her side as she studied these potentials. These potentials were of poor condition. Some of them were farmer’s daughters. Pathetic. She had her work cut out for her. At all times there would need to be at least three princess replacements in training. They would have to learn together. Eat together and train together. Every movement would have to be perfect. And she only tolerated perfection.
Eyes darkened with kohl, and a long trailing cotehardie, Prince Graeme is a potent sorcerer and eccentric young lord with his eyes set to one goal, the throne of the land.
Faye was born into the ocupation of elvish warrior
Charles Champagne is most likely to be encountered as an invaluable friend to the heroes, or at the worst a charming diversion. After all he is essentially a force for good, with one very disturbing exception…
A devoted and zealous priest of the Ice, Irad nevertheless is troubled by the brutal and vicious ways of those who worship it. Rather than crush and destroy the civilized folk of the South in its name, he would rather they be converted to the faith of his people and worship the Ice as their master. This he feels, can only be acomplished if they are encouraged to revere it rather than loathe it. It is indeed ironic that such a gentle and wise man serves the twisted Ice Lord..
A sage is a well known repository of knowledge, a researcher of ancient lore. But knowledge is power, and a commodity to be brokered and sold to the highest bidder. The meershaum smoking man is such a dealer of antiquities and of lore unknown, but he is wrapped in a shroud of secrecy of his own. Can the PCs divine his ulterior motives, or is he a wizened, albeit elusive, sage?
Where many a woman’s heart is filled with longing for love, or the comfort of the hearth and home, this arrogantly beautiful woman is consumed with but one thing. Ambition. Born without a heart, but with the grace and genteel manners of the aristocracy, she is the iron fist in a lace glove.
As High chief and seer of the Bakali, the lizardman Baragh is aware that the vey survival of his doomed race hangs in his claws. Knowing that the odds stacked against him are great, he nevertheless pursuses with great doggedness his goal of finding a hero willing to aid him in his struggle to to restore the land of his ancestors back to its rightful masters. Though a part of him knows that the plight of a primitive race of non humans is unlikely to elicit much sympathy, he clings on to the hope that there will be someone brave and noble enough to share his cause.
A potentially devastating foe with arms, and fists of living stone…
A lich who is worshipped as a god.
Once a tool awakened on purpose, the looming stones have outlived their masters but not their purpose
Now, this ol' ramblin fellow tends to walk his talk a bit too far down the train sometimes.. So I'll be brief in my recantin' of how it was my Tavern "came to bein'" on the multiverse as a weave of it's own spell.. And how I'm even alive to tell the story!
You see it's simple really, trust me.. that's my specialty, keepin it elementary. And you can trust this old Bard.
Anyway, this one night these wizards get a ramblin' on about the temporal exististance of space and time and how it could be manifested in a weave of super dimensional space. whereupon the folded space would give rise to an infinite number of entrances and exits to one or many spaces. Now, seein' how my talkin' sometimes get's locked into the way us folks used to talk back in the ol' west. These wizards didn't know I was a master of the word. and I had heard everything they said. They were also a bit over the wagon, while I was steerin' the show.
So that's how it came to pass, I struck a bargain with the wizards. They come to me in the morning and conjure up their idea into reality and I'd pledge them my life, my existance.. in essence my soul. but in a much nicer sense of the word. So they came by in the morning a half remembering our talks the prior evenin'. And I recanted their words verbatum, and that's how it came to be. The spell was complete that afternoon. My tavern would be the super dimensional cube that would exist in this weave of space and time, folks could come and go as they please, knowin in mind some of the rules and limitations set forth.
A few of 'em as follows.
No feller can be causin a ruckus inside any of my fine establishments, as always rule number one god damnit.
n' second the portal works kinda tricky. When ya outside ya cast the spell and lend your will to luck a bit and regardless the doors to the bar will appear, the windows a luminescent amber.. you can hear the chattee but ya can't see in. And the catch is the door might be locked, in which case you chalk it up to lady luck and go walk off and try again in an hour. Now most times the door pops right open and from the outside you always come in the front door, immediately greeted by myself or one of our many fine patrons of Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse.
Now when ya cast the spell from inside the Tavern, another catch comes up. The back door is mainly a secret for the non-initiated staff and the regulars but for sake of the prose let's assume we all know there's a secret door in the back with a portal there. Now when you go on through this one, you got two scenario's you oughta be aware of. One is ya pop outside relative to the same spot you came out. The other is, you walk back on into this one or another of our many Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse.
so it's a clever quantum railroad I got my tavern and my people's caught on. But, Hey the show's sure as always goin. ohhh' rutin tootin skidoodle -
** And that's it.. that's the only notes I found on the spell, apparently out there somewhere is a Tavern caught on the mighty ebb and flow of the multiverse. Well. at least I can put to rest my torment as to the condition now referred to as "Hooper McFin's Teleportation Paranoia".
Dr. Clarke T. Mulligan - Professional researcher of Time & Space.
Hooper McFin's Ale & Steakhouse