An alliance between bitterest foes in a desperate bid for their survival, thus was the beginning of the Shrew-Wars
The evil mage Zarakoth is dead, but with his death the world has gone mad. The aging characters are confronted on all sides by rot, death and decay whilst around them the world regresses rapidly to the stone age. Furthermore, Zarakoth seems to have miraculously not died - and to be more powerful than ever.
“Return to me,” she said, and as he died, he said: “I shall return”.
And though the years flew like sparrows from disturbed nest, he did return, year after year…
From beyond through veils sublime
Pass ghostly, o umbral shine
Illuminate in shadow, fade colors, so fallow
Dark dreaming does bidding thine
Lavish glade and lush green field,
Wizen'd oaks; to the blight all yield.
Weeping trees of crimson blood,
the Fields of Flesh turn life to mud.
Will you tread and smile and sleep
where devils dance and angels weep?
There was He, and there was She. And She was shy of men at first, always being told to distrust them. But He taught Her what love is, and promised Her everything he could. And they lived in happiness, and their love was perfect, for the rest of their lives.
Once a year, and each year in a different place, the wandering bazaar and social gala that is the Thieves Convention is held. Invitations Only!
What initially appears to be another trek through wintry mountain landscapes will be revealed as a true struggle for survival. For the mountain known as the Kiebral is an ancient evil, its secrets are countless and its power is immense. Can the PCs outwit a power from the dawn of time, or will they succumb and be trapped for all eternity?
A simple mission for a Dragon, but of course, nothing is ever simple with Dragons.
A dangerous romp across the Soviet Union in a race to rescue the eccentric Dr. Pegasus before he can complete his secret design.
When a wizard named Mendalus develops a spell that summons an obedient woman named Catherine--exactly like any other summoning spell--it creates chaos in the wizard-metropolis of Meltheria, as many interested parties struggle to understand the nature (and legality) of the Catherine spell, while vast fortunes hang in the balance.
A long forgotten and abandoned mine has been recently rediscovered by a local village.
An outlying village is actively searching the nearby city for mercenaries to help them protect their village.
A large explosion was heard 4 days ago coming from the foot of the nearby mountains. Ever since then no trade wagons have come through as they usually did.
The ring he found in the entrails of the wolf that killed his father served him well. He would use it to avenge his fathers death. Those that sent him out to his death would pay.
Tommy the Thumb must have messed up. What did he miss? Who saw him? Was it a inner guild rivalry surfaced? Either way Tommy the Thumb must now dodge authority and his guild to get away safely.
Armed city guards came into the tavern quickly, and efficiently blocked all the exits. He announces to the chosen that they have just been inducted into the city guard and are hereby ordered to serve their city.
They awaken with the tilt of a ship on the open sea. Any glimpses they see of the water is an endless expanse of blue. They are chained at their wrists and ankles with the chain going through an eye hook in the floorboard and then connecting them to their bench mate. A stowed oar is resting in front of them ready to be deployed. Life as a galley slave can be hard.
As a mage walks through the forest a sprite appears on a branch in front him (or her). The mage will be the only one that will be able to see the sprite. The sprite demands that the mage release him from the forest.
On the outskirts of a poor looking village is a large mausoleum that is well kept and richly deserted. It has a marble walkway and bricked windows with beautiful ironwork adorning it. For grave robbers the look of the outside tells of untold riches on the inside.
There are those as rich as kings but dress as peasants and worry not about funding. To visit their true homes one would see wealth of untold value scattered as dirt is in a hut. They know the monetary value of their possessions but they have long lost any true value to their owners. Experience is their currency and their curse. They dispense secrets of the ages as if discussing the weather. Few things have they not experienced so that very little gives them joy. They are the lost ones looking for new life while humoring the mortals around them.