The master thief Slith could steal a ring from the finger of an elf or the crown at a king’s coronation. He had stolen the great jewelled idol from the Temple of Imor at the climax of the Festival of Summer. Stealing the Ruby Sceptre from the archmage Bryseis should have posed no trouble to a thief of Slith’s talents. It didn’t: it was only afterwards that the trouble started.
Most feared of the Regalia of Dominion, the Ruby Sceptre is a terrifying weapon in the hands of a skilled fire mage.
A set of mighty jewelled artefacts, each keyed to one of the eight domains of magic. Once wielded by the Lords of the High Council of Linnarson, today they have been scattered to the four winds: some lost, some destroyed, and some in the hands of the mighty.
Everyone knows that that Senthia Khlack died with her father, the Duke Eldward Khlack, after their failed Rebellion. But what they do not is that Senthia still lives, after a fashion.
Blind mage that casts spells from Braile scrolls.
A one eyed mercenary the ladies just can’t get enough of.
A bald, runic-tattoo covered elven mercenary who looks out only for himself.
Feu’mer the inspector was quite adept at his work of solving and preventing crimes. He was known for a very sharp eye - and not the one remaining eye that was in his head.
Made of dark steel by those of an age gone by, this is the last of the giant war golems. Taller than elder dragon is long, this clanking behemoth plods across the land, obliveous to all works of men, elves, or dwarves.
Without these stone disks, there would be no Elventi Society. It is the HearthStones that hold the society together, allowing Elves to live together and in their beloved forests.
This enormous blade is capable of leveling more than just men.
It sees you, can you see it? Even when the room is lit?
Funny how those shadows twist, as though the room were filled with mist.
But theres no mist, the room is clear! About now, you should start to fear.
clear your mind, take a last breath. For in a second, you’ll meet with death.
A set of land, roughly six hundred meters squared, which has JUST not enough trees to be called woodlands. Though there IS something most curious about these lands. Perhaps the fact it is pure glass.
The tale of King Shorthold and The Window of the Mind
This discreet and stylishly concealable weapon is quite capable of cleaning up its own mess.
A weary adventurer-turned-lord. His fief is slowly growing, but threatened by growing forces of humanoids… and approaching winter.
A land being plunged into chaotic energies, wild superstition, massive prejudices and distrust. More of a campaign setting than anything else.
This is more of a concept applied to a particular setting than the setting itself, bear this in mind.
A dagger, seemingly crafted from plain oak wood…
Betrothed to Skundaath Lord of Chaos, Celdea lives in perpetual fear of being found and taken to be his bride.
The tale of colourshade of the two-fold, and his reknowned skill of painting.
In a crowded marketplace, a man is standing on a soapbox, orating. Some of the crowd are cheering, some hissing, some standing around saying "I can't hear a bl**dy word he's saying". It's a hustings for an election. The PCs can either leave, or stay and listen. If they do the latter, then they can vote too, and they might get quite involved in the cheering. Depending on who wins they might get quite involved in the post-election brawl too...
There are numerous possibilities with this encounter: the PCs might end up talking to one of the nervous candidates before their speech, and offer encouragement and support. Of course this candidate may well turn out to be someone with outspokenly unorthodox views, and the crowd don't take kindly to s/his supporters. Or maybe the seemingly innocuous candidate turns out to be a complete racist, and the PCs wander off embarrassedly, pretending they weren't talking to this person five minutes ago.