The players have possession of a simple book. It seems like just a curiosity. Then everyone came out of it and things got…. complicated.
The bell calls from its lonely tower, ringing across the valley. For whom does the bell toll, it tolls for thee…
In the middle of Noplace, which is just a bit south of NoWhere, there is a village. It seems calm, almost deserted. Eventually the furitive glances from boarded windows, people scurrying off the streets, and a few toughs keeping a careful eye on the strangers, will express the tension that can be cut with a knife.
A huge castle whose foundations are crumbling…A murderer on the run in the caverns below.
In a nearby town villagers tell tales of adventurers being driven mad by an unknown force within the woods…
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…
The Elven city of Pulca is under siege by a small chaos clan of beastmen. The General of the beastman is a shaman that is attempting to open a warp gate from the the Choas realm. If by any chance the gate is opened many many choatic deamons and abominations will be turned loose on the grand Elvish City of Pulca.
A siren has seduced a noble overboard and gifted him with watery breath. Now his family is preparing to go to war with the mer-people, blaming them for his kidnapping. They mer-people have beseeched the players to explain that the siren isn’t even one of thier people and help rescue the noble from the siren.
Problem is, the noble is now daddy.
A mighty force is building in the East, and all of Strolen’s Citadel must band together if we are to have any hope of defeating it.
The greatest earth trembler in all of the history of the land of Lishar has revealed the long-lost gates to the Nine Abyssal Vales of Kthor. Are you brave enough try your hand?
The players are diplomats: ambassadors to a distant, unstable realm. The promise of security that came with King Addarron is suddenly shattered by his assassination. The ambassadors are caught up in the ensuing intrigue-riddled politics…
The Duke Wars have torn apart the kingdom. Now, two dukes battle for supremacy. Will the heroes help the ambitious and noble deSandreaux or the beautiful and brave Christine?
Deep within the bowels of the earth, the great structure of reality finds itself at siege.
Two religeous sects are approching open war after members of each sect are found brutally beaten to death.
The war has returned. But now the enemies of the enemy are no longer dwarfs. Men must stand against the host, and to do so they need weapons. The mines of the dwarfs in the Elathon valley must be re-opened, and their fruits mined.
Trade in the City of Erezzi has long been dominated by two rival consortiums: La Mace d’Ars (the Crimson Mace) and L’Orzi Verci (the Ebony Ring). But the two are forever at each others throats. In 1282 membership of such an organisation was made illegal and both went underground. Now with a quasi-mafioso presence they pervade the city’s businesses, providing security for their members, but causing sectarian tensions between communities.
A long forgotten and abandoned mine has been recently rediscovered by a local village.
These magical boots empower the wearer with several abilities at once. Wondrous leaping, water-walking, and even flying! Yet the boots possess an insidious curse upon them as well. A deep and almost unfathomable (by others) feeling of listlessness, boredom, and even apathy affects the boots' wearer at all times whenever they are donned. Magic will not dispel the effects.
And so while the wearer of the boots can perform great feats of action during combat or at other opportune times and key moments, they'll never really want to do so, complaining "Meh, what's the point of it all anyway?" or "I would fly up and save us all guys, but sigh, maybe uhm, soonish, mkay? Bit bored by this whole burning tower at the moment."
Naturally the boots wearer's fellow PCs will grow quickly frustrated with this arrangement. There have been numerous occasions when one angry PC literally tears off the boots from his companion's feet in anger, and dons them in turn, only to immediately suffer from the same effects.
The solution lies in constantly "motivating" the boots' wearer with successful rolls, involving threats, flattery, fiery speeches, or even bribery.