In the quaint little town known as Golothei, the infamous black legion makes it’s last stand against the mountain tribes of the Ugeroth. On the Asylum River Island the battle rage most intensely, legionary squad mages barely holding their own against the onslaught of chaos worshipping tribal sorcerors. To this location the PCs are destined to travel in search of the powerful artifact known as the Tallow Candle. But not all is as it seems within the halls of the asylum.
Should you wish to pluck a rose, or to caress it, beware its thorns, its dangerous beauty.
By Decree of her Royal Majesty, the possession, ownership, or consumption of any alcoholic substance has been henceforth been declared unlawful, and said violators of the Queen’s will shall be subject to punishment.
Many of the worlds woes can be laid at the feet of deranged, socially blind, and irresponcible wizards. The doddering old mage locked away in his tower, answerable to no one but himself is a hazard to himself and to those unfortunate enough to live close by. The Upright Society of Civic Mages plan to change this problem…one way or another.
In the wake of the old king’s murder and an ambassador’s summary execution, two rival kingdoms are prepared to fling themselves into a terrible war.
If you helped the Grazuul Tribe, others require similar help. The reward is bigger, as the risks.
The Pcs discover an ancient, dusty oil lamp, somewhere in the bowels of a dungeon. Naturally they "rub it", and out pops a wizened, old djinn. So far so good. Then it speaks...
"Ah at last, at last I am free! Now grant me my wish!"
When the PCs explain that they are the ones that should be granted a wish, the malignant djinn explains to them that his particular oil-lamp has a curse placed upon it. Whomsoever releases the entity inside shall be geased to grant the djinn's wish to the best of their ability.
Groans ensue from the party. The djinn rubs his wrinkled hands, grins, and proceeds to name his wish. What could it be?