A feral, neanderthal-like man whose become a (somewhat) king amonsgst men, sorta.
Do you know what this means? asked the healer, staring earnestly at the boy from beneath his bushy white eyebrows.
Xander shook his head, his lip trembling.
The healer’s felt a rush of sympathy for the child. he reminded him of Shalleah somehow. 13 years was such a young age to die.
“You have but three months left.” he said slowly and softly. Each word rang solitarily through the room, and though they were whispered they had more impact then anything the young boy had ever heard before.
A young man, disowned by his family, traveling the world in an attempt to redeem himself with his musical talent and his prowess with a sword.
Magical energies abound in the land around the Pit of Infren and Last Stand. Magical mining towns would abound in this fertile area, if they could survive.
Well, some of the old timers still work the mines, but the biggest news out in these parts is that the ARC is going to lay a line of rail through the Canyon.
Completely isolated from the rest of the world, the House of the Abbot is possibly the most remote location that can be found.
That there is a big gun, partner…
Sure is. Feeling lucky?
Sure, everyone ‘round these parts knows who Dan the Dastardly Dog is. Last I heard the ARC had him cornered up in Demadex Canyon, a little silver mining town in the Arizona territory…
Someone has been raiding the coast. The PC’s are dispatched to help - but can they trust the local authorities?
An angel who sacrificed wings to save the world
He devoted his existance to the destruction of the undead, and the demonic Lord Diavolo in particular. Now, thousands of years later, he must fight himself to fight the darkness.
One of many small artifacts created eons ago, The Sands of Fury is capable of creating massive turmoil and destruction from above.
Who would have thought a key would be this big?
The PC’s are walking along a forest path when they hear the sobbing of a young woman, but when they investigate further…
In the middle of Noplace, which is just a bit south of NoWhere, there is a village. It seems calm, almost deserted. Eventually the furitive glances from boarded windows, people scurrying off the streets, and a few toughs keeping a careful eye on the strangers, will express the tension that can be cut with a knife.
Day in and day out the library and labs Robert was always about. When questioned of his motions, he explained he was fetching his master’s potions, but secretly crafting a wand is what he pained. In the end an ebony wand was made, it would be known later as Trotters Unfair Trade.
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.
a fur coat with interesting properties and penalties
A forest full of danger where the danger is not at all where the PCs expect it to be.
Ghostly flaming apparition of a blade, slayer of spectres and all that is ethereal, wielded by its durable hilt inlaid in gold, silver, ivory and white pearls. It can turn the tide when fighting the intangible.
Walking through the alleys of the docks district of town, you hear an old, mad beggar calling out for alms. He claims to be a god, cast out from heaven and stripped of his powers. The party passes, tossing a few coppers to him. In thanking them, the madman refers to incidents in their childhood or distant past which would have been all but impossible for him to know.