The PCs are in a graveyard, when as they are passing a noble tomb with a certain symbol embossed on the door, the magic user in the party hears a voice from being the tomb door begging to be let out. What do the PCs do?
The Sea hides many secrets in its depths, here are 30.
Atop a nearby rise the infuriated priestess stood, taking in the unfolding scene in the
valley below. How dare these metallic, roaring, foreigners loot their temples. She offered
up a silent, vengeful prayer to her gods, may their wrath befall these intruders!
A scroll of rumours, Chinese Whispers style
The hacker had breached the final firewall and was typing code into the command prompt: code/7777SOHAT. Images flashed up on screen and he gazed in terror at what he saw.
Dungeon ideas for inspiring role-playing and drama.
Clerics in roleplaying. Some ideas for incidents that might occur to them while at their chapel.
Plots for use with the Old Kingdom setting.
Once a year, the army rounds up the Mad and takes them to the City of Asylum. While you are travelling on the road, you encounter an army unit escorting 30 insane people dressed in tattered clothes. Yet one might not be mad….
The great mage Cicero Talaten and his family suddenly vanished one day two hundred years ago. The bodies of his wife, daughter, and one of his sons were found on the grounds of his ancestral home. But what of Talaten himself, or his other son?
Something strange has infected the land. Plants and Animals are taking on the characteristics of other plants and animals. Many are harmless, others have become monsters. The effect has spread from the near by wilds and into the populated areas. The first person has been infected by this strange malady.
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman