A young nymph gives up her life to encounter the PCs, begging them as she dies to save her sister nymphs from extinction and promising that they will be well rewarded for their trouble.
A war of ambition threatens the unseelie houses of Thiran Nar.
Your average posse of adventurous types is hired by a wizard to stop the attacks on a small village.
“Woe, brethren! What hath these gods wrought? For a thousand suns we have had peace, and now in an instant the light is being extinguished. How can any survive in these Wars of the Sects?”
- Arbiter Ariston Nikomachus
The Continent and its faiths have thrived with little fuss for a millenium. And now, with a few holy words, all of heaven, earth, and hell seem to be at war…
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.
Sometimes a simple breakdown can lead to all sorts of trouble
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 plot of the Swollen Shadow
The Age of Vog…The Unending Winter of Discontent, The Epoch of Smoke and Ash.
I’m beging to wonder if there can be victory? Please don’t let this go on…
Memoirs of the Nameless soldier
When the world is changing and madness descends, can a group of stalwart villagers save a bastard newborn from the clutches of an unknown enemy?
This campaign follows the group on their desperate flight from hostile forces, both covert and overt. This Campaign centre around their perilous journey through the highlands, the lowlands and within the cities of men. Will they survive long enough to reach the relative safety of the sacred Ulukhan? And how will they react to the hidden truths and internal strife they encounter on their journey?
This is a fully fledged campaign. One that will span many, many table top sessions.
One Immortal. One nation. One wizard. Can you foil his evil attempt to attain immortality?
A contest between good and evil. You choose the winner. Shall it be the betrayed or the betrayer who conquers?
He slides down the tower and onto the streets from the princess’s balcony and makes his escape! Oh, but if only he would learn from his philanderous ways! “But I won’t learn,” he thought slighly.
Everyone hungers ... and must be fed. But what if the tastes suddenly change?
Adventurers are hired by a local guild to collect some overdue debts.
An elderly woman beggar is found at the site of a murder of a very wealthy store owner. For lack of other suspects and the town’s outcry for quick justice, the corrupt justice system quickly condemned her and sentenced her to public execution. As she was tied to the stake and the fire started below her she shouted words that would haunt the city until her death avenged.
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.
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.