The bell calls from its lonely tower, ringing across the valley. For whom does the bell toll, it tolls for thee…
Someone has been raiding the coast. The PC’s are dispatched to help - but can they trust the local authorities?
The PC’s are walking along a forest path when they hear the sobbing of a young woman, but when they investigate further…
A famous hero has died, but his dying request was the be buried beneath the willow, and he has asked the PCs if they will carry his body there and bury him.
The mentor of one or more (lawfully-inclined, socially ambitious) PCs is vulnerable because of a past action Ã¢â?¬â?? an action that was justifiable at the time. But opponents can now use changing circumstances or new information to discredit or destroy the mentor and damage the PC. The mentor is unwilling/unable either to respond or escape the consequences. The PCs can take action, but not in the open; ‘kill the monsters’ is not likely to solve the problem. Failing to act will doom the mentor and damage the PC; taking action may also doom the PC.
Arriving in a small village the adventurering party is drawn into a meeting of the Parish Guild…
The Sentinel has always wondered who he was, his past covered in lies and deception, he wishes to seek the truth. But sometimes the truth is hard to take….
When a very old ring is anonymously sent to the authorities accompanied by a cryptic note, they are confused. But much more is at stake…
An area known for sweeping mountain vistas, and sleepy alpine hamlets has all but exploded with miners, adventurers, and thieves. Dwarves are showing up in troops, while orcs are churning towards the valley. The reason? Simple…
There’s gold in them thar hills!
For years trading ships have come to the Islands of Teanoi seeking treasures of gold, pua shell, and exotic herbs and spices. Trade has dwindled, and ships vanish without a trace, but the trade is too valuable to give up, and thus the ships still come. The islands also lay close to a shipping lane, and are a regular stop for ships seeking only to take on fresh supplies of foodstuffs and water.
Soon merchants begin seeking outside aid to protect their ships from the unknown menace that the islanders call Teanoi…
The PCs are hired to remove splinters of discontent and desertion from the feet of the Prince’s Army…
When the Prince of Thalavor is found dead, floating down the river in a Hero’s Voyage, the King Espegil sends the heroes upriver into unexplored lands to discover the bane that slew him.
The tough, hardy adventurers equip up and go out to kill a pack of goblins terrorising the city. Of course, they succeed without trouble and make their way back but their first encounter with a guard patrol on the way back, tells them something is not right…
The master thief Slith could steal a ring from the finger of an elf or the crown at a king’s coronation. He had stolen the great jewelled idol from the Temple of Imor at the climax of the Festival of Summer. Stealing the Ruby Sceptre from the archmage Bryseis should have posed no trouble to a thief of Slith’s talents. It didn’t: it was only afterwards that the trouble started.
Some things remember well. The stones of the Chambers of Nul soaked up the terror of the encarcerated victims and even now remember it, slowly releasing it like sweat. The buried city of Mastad remembers the cries of its citizens as they were crushed, and still they can be heard on the wind.
So it is with the Bed. Over the centuries it has sat in this room it has been host to some interesting guests, and each has left an…impression. Every sleepless night, every troubled thought: the Bed remembers it all. And if you were to spend a night in its downy pillows, you might remember some of it too…
A druid obsessed with Nature’s cycle of death has created a horrendous spore in a plot to rid the lands of a swiftly growing town that has begun to encroach upon his forest.
You awake in a strange city, with no knowledge of how you got there, only to find that you are not the only one with amnesia
An impious old mariner feels the lure of wanderlust. He leaves his family and home, but have the gods forgiven his blasphemy?
The unicorns are missing from the land of ‘Magical Airs’. Are they lost? Strayed, or stolen?
Most advenurers have been forced to do a stint as caravan guards at some point in their career, just to see them through hard times. One would hope that they’d learned enough from the experience to pull off a successful raid themselves. The only catch - they mustn’t kill anybody.
Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?