Long has the question of truth been pondered. Long has this been a folly few recognise in time. A killer, a soldier even with a sword is one thing. But a killer who thinks he has found a definite truth, which he decides to fight for, is the most dangerous man in the world.
Is it liberation or conquest? Humane thought or wanton deicide?
A malicious ploy to make the divine starve?
Taronia - Land of mystics and sages. Taronia - Land of the Gods. Taronia - Land of Conquerers.
To be a detective is not the fun it seemed.
Sometimes a simple breakdown can lead to all sorts of trouble
There is trouble in the mines, claims your employer. And you are just the people to solve it.
I don’t know if I posted about it before, but I have always wanted to run an adventure set in a library. The following is a sketch of an unusual premise and a possible plot-hook.
The fine scent of sea, and the less fine smell of the fish… isn’t there something else smelling, too?
The Sneel are causing trouble again.
Not quite Science Fiction…
Wherever the PCs have gone recently, they have heard the talk. The Doomsday Machine of Toothless Amalgam has stopped spitting out birdseed. The End is nigh.
How could a single building produce so much strife?
A magical relic is stolen which has the power to raise the dead. The dead roused by this item are twisted tormented beings but are also elevated to a power befitting their earthly accomplishments. The PCs are charged with retrieving this item, but before they can safely secure it has already been used to raise the legendary King Parna who carved out the Kingdom by his spear and wits alone and his two most famous companions. Now the PCs must not only contain the relic, but save the realm for these new and powerful undead.
Imagine if King Arthur, Merlin and Lancelot were brought back as powerful undead.
The Lord has a new girlfriend, and nobody is happy about it.
Only a year before, King Stymian’s future was firmly in his grasp. Today, he struggles for his own kingdom. But of all things, he is not a man that yields to opposition.
The plot of the Swollen Shadow
Every 45 years, the bamboo forests which cover the tiny land of Ghanzu bloom, and very soon after come the rats…
Why isn’t this working!?
Maybe this human is too weak.
So find more humans to test it on!
I’ll tell you something, there was a demon in Widow Suvar’s Wine cellar. How do I know, ‘cuz I seen it that’s how I know.
Near the summit of mount Arak’nui, the remnants of the elven race still lingers. Their hearts darkened, their spirits broken, they have turned to evil and embraced demon-worship.
Darkness and bitterness has consumed them, and they have turned away from their gods and summoned demons to inhabit the flesh and souls of the willing. Shadow dancers these elves are called, and they are an instrument of revenge, wreaking havoc wherever they dance into the midst of the enemy. It was an alliance hastily made in those desperate days three centuries ago, but as the elves witnessed the agony and change visited upon the shadowdancers they regret the decision more and more.
According to the Journals of Lord Goidol, the people of the Southern Cities wear heavy coats all the year round, despite the stifling tropical heat. They claim that to do otherwise angers the gods, and it is true that visitors who refuse to don the local garb are often struck down with a paralytic fever.