The holovids are full of stories about mecha garrisons bravely battling dastardly pirate raiders. It's a pretty picture for the propaganda films, but its a long way from the truth of the pirate raids.
One can only defeat so many villains that want to "cover the world in darkness" before one starts to look for a different flavor of horrible.
EVIL JUST GOT EMO!
Come! Enter into the safe haven beneath the seas! Where humanity fled from the deadly Kalleum bombs! Take Refuge Beneath the Waves.
An explorer gone missing. A king in panic. A treasure to find.
Welcome to the Craggy Peaks. We hope you don't freeze to death.
That would mean we couldn't... play.
An old and respected fortune teller is dying of disease and seeks out the help of andventurers to secure the heir to the fortune teller's power.
A (fairly sketchy) outline of a one-off adventure I ran based around the (time-honoured/hackneyed) Tunguska Event of 1908. As such it is quite specific (hopefully not hackneyed) and will probably best serve as a specimen for dissection to get those parts you can use in your own adventures. But then this is an Ideas Guild after all...
At the foot of the World can be found both great treasure and danger! Adventure Awaits!
That’s no moon ...
So, off again we go to slay the evil dragon… but what happens when said evil dragon is asking for a big favour with its dying breath… well, you decide…
An alliance between bitterest foes in a desperate bid for their survival, thus was the beginning of the Shrew-Wars
A town is besieged by a changing culture and is desperate to hold on to its oldways. But that gets harder as the next generation starts to leave the traditions behind. The drive of some people to resist change and hold on to what they have is so great that they will not only fightthe undead but eventually embrace them.
Only a year before, King Stymian’s future was firmly in his grasp. Today, he struggles for his own kingdom. But of all things, he is not a man that yields to opposition.
An elder cleric asks the PCs to transport a relic to a nearby city. A simple quest with endless possibilities.
I’ll tell you something, there was a demon in Widow Suvar’s Wine cellar. How do I know, ‘cuz I seen it that’s how I know.
This is the conclusion to the Prophecies of Redemption Campaign. The characters have sojourned through mountains and lowlands to reach the forest in which the entrance to the demon lord’s citadel can be found.
But the Citadel is not what one could expect. Can the PCs find their way in and survive to tell the tale?
Near the summit of mount Arak’nui, the remnants of the elven race still lingers. Their hearts darkened, their spirits broken, they have turned to evil and embraced demon-worship.
Darkness and bitterness has consumed them, and they have turned away from their gods and summoned demons to inhabit the flesh and souls of the willing. Shadow dancers these elves are called, and they are an instrument of revenge, wreaking havoc wherever they dance into the midst of the enemy. It was an alliance hastily made in those desperate days three centuries ago, but as the elves witnessed the agony and change visited upon the shadowdancers they regret the decision more and more.
Imperial debacles, heroic last stands, the valiant defence of an island, arduous desert crossings and a deadly hunt with the PCs as prey, not predator can all be found in The Variscan War, a mini-campaign (25-40hrs) for medium-high level characters.
When does a boon become a bane? The wise often falter and make foolish mistakes under the guidance of those who are treacherous in design.
A young girl, of fifteen, sets out to find the kingdom of her land after raiders burned down her house. Now she has met a wonderful friend who schools her in the ways of the land…
Two young nobles, enmity between their families. Where have we seen this before?
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.