The village of Far Tragin is deep within the dangerous Northen wastes. Yet somehow it has avoided destruction by the monsters who dwell there. The PCs discover that it is a deal with an unlikly ally that protects this town. However, this deal may be failing and Far Tragin is in jeoprady.
This village is at the far northen extent of civilized lands. Far Tragin is within the Northern Wastes and is constantly plauged by danger. The folk who survive here are the hardest you will find.
Stone Gauntlets crafted from the hands of a Stone Golem that are both beneficial and a burden to the user…
A member of demons from another plane come to feast on our pain, Bualgathor is an outcast among his kind, for he feasts on the pain of other horrors
New Herbia is a new expanding town founded by a two adventurers who accidently destroyed the town that used to be there. Now it is larger and more popular than ever…
A large steel shield in the form of a sea-shell attributed to Athena, the goddess of civilization, craft wisdom and war.
The adventurers are called upon to help a lord aide a group of “wild men” who are threatened by Bugbears and whoever is behind them. Most people seemed unconcerned with these savage people, but are they really so savage? This is a very fully described plot, a complete adventure.
A staff that was supposed to give control over all the elements was horribly warped by a misspoken incantation.
Grordrim rules the coutry of Faz-Gnomedrax with an iron fist. Unlike most dwarves, they prefer the forest. Grordrim is quick to kill anyone who he thinks is a spy.
Twin elvish short swords. Used in the same manner as Drizzt Do’Urden fights. Slightely curved tips etched in runes. Wielded by Hathil.
This staff is equally powerful the the staff of Leviadan. The differences are that it is an evil craft, those who are not already evil shall be currupted should the staff stay in the possesion of good men to long. The trait that gave it it’s name is that it gives you "TEMPORARY" controle over the minds of dragons and griffins.
Technically, this would be the ring of DIM-wit…
A strange, mystical box, with many rumours attached, that does not want to reveal its secret…
A small stone that can absorb and store liquids.
Ranfral is the proud son of King Althuar of Conqaz. He is in a difficult position. When his father is stricken ill by orc poison and is on his death bed, Ranfral has a choice. Ascend the throne or find the legendary staff of Leviadan to heal his father. The problem is if he ascends the throne, he will not be permitted to encounter his peasant love Ladrave. His choice is simple, his quest begins.
The forest of HalÃ«fas is a strange place indeed. It has long been inhabited by the forest elves, a race of elves descended from the high elves that have lived for over 9000 years isolated there. This wood is patroled by a groupe of expert rangers who know the forest well, Tred lightly and unthreateningly here for you may find your end in Hathil’S arrow.
This flute when played by an elven mage or other wizards of good magic can use it’s melody for many uses.
The song of fire can summon heat
the song of water can flood even the smallest of creeks
the song of wind can create hurricane type winds.
The power of each summon is based on it’s users willpower. You think the power of your summon Ex: play the song of fire but want a small spark then think a small spark. Not for novince wizards, weak minded or dirty minded folk
Maris is a thief. A common, low down, swarmy thief. It’s not her fault she’s that way, though. She’s nice, has a sweet personality, and is most likely to talk a person into giving ‘the poor, suffering little me’ their money, due to her limited skills as a pickpoket.
What she is skilled at, however, is very, very strange for a theif. She likes reading, and has collected many old manuscripts, and is sometimes saught out for just knowledge.
Three shuriken carved from the skull of a dragon, they say they never miss the heart…
When a local farmer discovers something at the bottom of his new well, the fate of the land will hang in the balance.
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?