These magical gloves will make sure your fancy suit isn’t ruined by the odd stain or spill.
A group of travelers come across an abandoned village and find themselves in a battle for their lives.
A cleaver the size of a large shield.
Simple cloth armour with a not so simple secret.
The city of Caulderon is the mythic flying city. Once a magnificent city on a cliff, it was saved from being lost to the sea by being lifted by alchemical means. It was filled with impossibly tall shining spires standing above golden domes. The sunlight striking it is said to blind those who come to invade the city. The people lived in this magnificent city in health, wealth, and safety. They rode Griffons and created all sorts of creature. Caulderon was known for its magic, its alchemy. In the old tongue, the word Caulder means alchemey, from the word Cauldron. It is from their alchemey that their great wealth and comfort is derieved.
Legends (and Elven History) states that the floating city would visit The Lands once every few years, blown by the winds. They would trade for things and sell their magikal goods. After a year or so, their cities would be be blown to other places. It has been over four hundred years since any credible source has seen the floating cities. It is the thing of legends.
Then why has one been seen over the Land?
To be used for the final encounter, find the final treasure, or anything that needs to be hidden away better then normal. Typical “who the heck would ever spend the time making it” but it is fun and a mental challenge for a change.
A small, ordinary looking red pouch that deters all but the most skilled thieves.
The crown of King Lorin has been stolen! Upon leaving the city the players are searched and the crown is found in their possession. They plead their innocence and are given a task, that task leads to another, and to another?
A magical arrow made by a evil group whose meeting place was in a dangerous old forest. They called themselves the “The Circle of Hell”. This group included members of varied skills and racial background but were dedicated to one thing, the summoning of hell’s highest mountain to our home plane…
In certain parts of the world, DON’T ask for something in a language the barkeep dosen’t understand or say “just give me anything”
One day a you are walking on a road to get to a popular city of some sort. All of a sudden you encounter a group of bandits walking towards you looking to start a fight.
In an ancient cycle of time, an empire of sun worshippers ruled the world from their great holy city.
Magical seeds that grow quickly to full size when a spell is cast on them.
A shadow warrior and defender of Pulca. Keeper of the key to the underground. Warrior of his great ancestors of Dro’Hizzir.
A mystic ruin that is well guarded by the family of Dro’Hizzir a great upper class of Shadow Warriors. This is unknown to everyone except for Dro’Hizzir. Knowledge that is only passed down from his forefathers and ancestors alike. Well underground in the city of Pulca. The entrance is found in Dro’Hizzir’s office in his ancestorial vault (that has riches in it as well). In the back of his vault is a narrow tunnel way big enough to fit a normal man in that leads to a ruin of his dead Ancestors and riches of the deceased.
The Old Kingdom, a realm in a four-hundred year quarantine.
Plots for use with the Old Kingdom setting.
Pulca is a average Elvish town of about 300 people. They are some of the most peaceful and kindess Elves one will ever meet. They have never battled any outlanders or waged war with anyone.
The nomads are a neglected people, universally hated and persecuted. Let your characters experience this life…
Revolution is upon them. Like a worm-riddled timber the Kingdom is rife with discontent, and the aristocrats are being evicted, their castles burnt and ruined. For those who escape, life looks bleak…