According to Ars Geotia the standard formations of power consist of ley lines, confluences and founts. this system has been long accepted, and is quite incorrect…
An elder cleric asks the PCs to transport a relic to a nearby city. A simple quest with endless possibilities.
He sat there in shock, not believing what the Guard Captain said. It couldn’t be true. His sweet daughter would not be capable of killing the man she was to marry. He watched, helpless, as they took her away.
And then came the trial. Even as he heard the evidence against her, he refused to believe she could commit such a vile act. As the verdict came in, his world fell apart. It echoed in his ears, “Guilty, guilty, guilty”
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.
In the quaint little town known as Golothei, the infamous black legion makes it’s last stand against the mountain tribes of the Ugeroth. On the Asylum River Island the battle rage most intensely, legionary squad mages barely holding their own against the onslaught of chaos worshipping tribal sorcerors. To this location the PCs are destined to travel in search of the powerful artifact known as the Tallow Candle. But not all is as it seems within the halls of the asylum.
At the base of the Cyllerean Mountains a small coven of witches has laired where once was a Temple of Good.
Deep beneath the central tower laid the chambers of the Arcane. This is where the mages, witches and warlocks place those creations they deem to dangerous. The crystal bell Ã?Â Beloth Ã?Â was such a creation. Shortly after it was created by Magnus of Cormalth, it got into the hands of a cunning mercenary captain known as Harlan Marcus. Let’s shorten the tale and just say that the mages in the college valley did not like to have Harlan and his men roaming about the valley, helping themselves to the mages valuables. The bell rendered the college magic useless, and the mages locked themselves in, awaiting Harlan, armed with brooms, pottery and kitchen utensils.
The bell was later recovered, together with Harlan himself, and both were locked away in the chambers of the arcane.
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.
This is a scroll for every rumor or tale you might here from a friend or in a bar.
Each year, One member of the two sides of the tribe is chosen to Acend. It is a deep ritual used to maintain the contact the tribe has with its two gods. Sometimes, you gotta go out with a bang.
On one of the adventurers’ many journeys through the lands, they one day enter a very strange village surrounded by a palisade. Therein all villagers seem to be sleeping, their hair long and flowing and their nails ever growing. Snow has settled on the land and the few found outdoors are covered in a thin layer of powdery white snow. Nothing can be done to awaken these mysterious sleepers and there seems to be no escaping this village either.
Then the night falls…
The nobleman’s daughter must be escorted from place to place, but her addiction may make the journey far harder than it need be..,
Winter time is a wonderous time for adventure.
Beginning adventurers have a hard time to find the right employment… let us try and help them!
A dangerous beast is loose in the forest.
Does the circus have anything to do with it, and if so can they help catch it?
More to the point, will they admit it?
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 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.
Clerics in roleplaying. Some ideas for incidents that might occur to them while at their chapel.
Two characters, one player, and no way to tell which is the real one.
A wild species, vinus homophagus, more akin to sea-grape rather than the terrestrial variety, is not a monster despite its fanciful name. The grapes, a deep purple color when in bloom, and oozing dewdrops of perspiration, like the most prized and delectable of drinking wine grapes, do however deserve their moniker. Wine made from this fruit, is deadly to most humanoids, as is the raw berry, if plucked and eaten from the vine. It is the unnatural chemical concoction found within the fruit’s tart skin, which gives the man-eating grape its name. The chemical stew found inside each berry, functions as a necrotic agent, the same as found in some species of venomous snakes. The grapes literally eat the victim from the inside out, via cell death, dissolving organs and flesh in quick succession.
The tribes of Pra-Oohk Crater, from the jungles of Ghlush are known to sell the fermented “wine” of this grape to merchants of distant lands. Sadly, the taste of the concoction is divine when first quaffed, and even worse, the man-eating grape wine will never detect as poisonous via mundane means, its horrid natures somehow masking all attempts. Luckily the man-eating grapes are extremely rare, and endemic to humid jungles.