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.
To many, the clerics of the Gods of Death are reviled as evil monsters, conspirators of demons, and raisers of undead armies. How often is the common perception wrong?
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.
Honor, ethics, morality, civilization, these are mere trappings. Playthings that people use to hide from the world. They’ve all forgotten. No sword is untried by fire, and so it is with man.
I am the fire that will test man.
Khass was one of the greatest friends I ever had. So of course, what choice did I have but to save him?
Dear gods above, what have I done?
Was this to be his last sight, then? These bloody-red gums, these rusty, iron teeth? Where were the Gods to defend him from Bloody Smile?
Jenya was never quite able to explain to herself how she ended up on a pirate crew. But five years out on the Swiftbolt, and she’s having the time of her life.
“Your eye, your eye!” crowed Imupokith, the Sea-Witch, and Vruthath, clutching his bleeding socket, held out his hand.
Upon the palm was a staring green eye.
A lot of travelling singers have a flame or incessant longing in their heart.This woman’s heart holds something more as well.
Few can match the monk for physical accievement. Few monks can match Ember, the Disciple of the wind…
Poleran: Hey what are you chewing there sir?
Bearded Man: Gunjii a super sticky gum.
Poleran: What do you mean sir?
The city that many adventurers seek to drink from the Fountain of Youth…..
Bold Adventurers the Fountain of Youth awaits your lips….
The wall unsealed, Mirror Serpent peered inside, ready to gaze upon the riches within. But he recoiled. There was only a withered corpse, and in its hands, a flickering lantern…
“Clear glacial water, spring barley, winter wheat and summer hops are what good ales are known for. The ale should not be too old or it will be stale or bitter, it must breath or the favor won’t be just right, and most importantly it should be chilled to just a hair above freezing, so the taste is sharp and crisp” ~ Taliwar Jil - Master Brewer, Far Doman
The shield of the gods forged from the sun by Apollo himself but how can it be…...........
Always on the cutting edge of fashion and the talk of the courts, Mialee the Beautiful is the supermodel of the fantastic world…
Once Vandersil was a rich city. Too rich for it’s own good. It was born when gold was struck in the Northern Polar Mountians. The gold ran out within a few years but veins of other minerals both common and rare were discovered. Coal, silver, star stones. The city grew rich through trade and the streets were paved with bronze, at least, in the richer areas of the city. And then it fell into captivity because it neglected it’s defences…
quick of wit, strong of sword arm, and irresistable to the ladies, Redgar the valiant is the epitome of the heroic warrior.
A certain culture has a curious pass-time- muscle art.
Muscle artists (who are called by a special name) work hard to sculpt their bodies, trying to become as muscular and buff as possible. The best among muscle artists look almost grotesque in their amazing muscularity, Atlas-like giants with shiny, oiled iron arms and legs.