Here, have a sup, just two piece of silver.
The heroes encounter prisoner-slaves and their masters
Wherever the PCs have gone recently, they have heard the talk. The Doomsday Machine of Toothless Amalgam has stopped spitting out birdseed. The End is nigh.
The bard tuned his lyre for the 5th time. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Ancient eyes greeted him. This would be his last performance, it had to be perfect.
A Village by a forest, and a secret few knows. Will the PCs discover what dwells beneath the surface?
Travel broadens the mind… If you survive the journey. A collection of Tales of Adventure
How could a single building produce so much strife?
Among his effects, the highwayman had 24 mysterious vials. What could the strange liquid portend?
Dungeon ideas for inspiring role-playing and drama.
There is a new threat to mankind coming and it’s all due to poor craftsmanship…
A time of flags and feasts…
I have fled in the shape of the raven of prophetic speech
Pumpkintown, The Strawberry Festival, Fall Days - small town festivals are as varied as the small towns that host them, and just as colorful.
The city has a thousand stories - and here are a few of them..
A ship, drifting through the mists, with not a soul visible on her deck. Haunted? Yes, but not the way that you might expect…
On an outlying farm, the sick grandfather of a family was kidnapped. Can the kidnappers be stopped before they deliver him off-planet?
Two Noble Kinsmen, Two Fair Maidens, Two Mischevious Servants, Two Loyal Handmaids, Two Pompous Dukes, a Clown, a Lion, and a bunch of foolish soldiers, all wandering in the forest. Why, it’s practically Shakespeare!
“Ye’ve ‘eerd th’ one ‘bout th’ king who’ll send 3000 gold royals te th’ lucky man thet sends ‘im a letter back t’ test th’ Royal Mail, an’ ye heerd aboot th’ succubus that makes off wi’ mens’ kitlins after she ‘as ‘er way wi’ em, but ha’ ye heerd aboot th’ beggar lad that wants a stone from ever’ village in th’ kingdom?
In every great film, the seed of a corny adventure can be found…
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.
The air had grown chill the minute they descended into the strange valley, which was unmarked on any of their maps. It was so strange here, devoid of animal life and completely silent. The horses were nervous the entire journey through the vale. As they set about to collect firewood for the campfire they could hear their own voices as dim echoes through the eerie silence.
The food didn't taste anything that evening and their sleep was cold and troubled by nightmares. While they are clearing camp the next morning, one of them stumbles over a piece of stone jutting out of the ground nearby the horses. On closer inspection there seems to be runes engraved into the polished surface. The symbols true meaning is no more known among mere mortals and if they decide to dig deeper, they will discover that it is an ancient altar buried within the soil.
Any historically oriented party member will recognize the largest symbol to be the insignia of the powerful warlock who ruled this realm several centuries ago. At their departure from the area, something will seem amiss with one of the party members and all will remember the stories of the warlock's thousand curses.