Once a year, the army rounds up the Mad and takes them to the City of Asylum. While you are travelling on the road, you encounter an army unit escorting 30 insane people dressed in tattered clothes. Yet one might not be mad….
A spear that could undo the enemy, or undo the beholder…
Sometimes things are simpler then they look…
The players are sent to find an ancient army that has sworn to protect the land. Beware, nothing is as it seems…
This is said to be the box in which Urku, creator of the Orcs, captured the sun.
There is a platform, large enough to walk three steps across, in the desert…Once you stand on it, it immediately becomes dusk of a strange color, and the desert temple towers just behind to you…
This wizard had unlimited power, until he lost his marbles…
In the thick, swampy jungles of the south, the oldest and greatest city of Lizardfolk rises majestically over the forest canopy.
This, the largest and most populous city in the world, is a port ruled by thieves, murderers, and crooks.
Some say that Darigus was murdered for his treasure. Others say that Darigus’s court magician did away with the nobleman and ran off with his daughter. And some say that Darigus isn’t dead, and took off with his treasure. But no one knows for sure…
In the burning desert stands a symbol of hope, prosperity, and peace, the place known as Glass Mountain.
Something occured and those in the grand city went mad. Was it a curse, a prophecy, a spell gone wrong, or a magik item opened? Nobody allegedly knows. The city guard on the city walls, saw the madness and were apparently not touched. They tried to keep the crazy ones inside, by blocking the gates and sealing the entrances to the large city wall. The region’s leader, eventually sent the Army there to reinforce the city guards, to hold the mad ones in. Since the mad men are incredibly strong and immune to pain, if they escape it would be a plague upon the land. There is still hope that someday they could be restored (perhaps a royal heir or a royal household was in the city). Perhaps they are nearly immortal. The city guards who occasionally decend into the city to drop supplies and stop fires believe that to be true.
Now it is a small town, with its own walls, that rings the old grand city. Over the years, the army and guards, have created a town that supports them. They think themselves immune to the madness, yet their proximity to them, means they are only slightly odd… perhaps becoming mad. The crazed watch over the mad. A running joke is that someday, someone will man their walls to hold them in.
The great mage Cicero Talaten and his family suddenly vanished one day two hundred years ago. The bodies of his wife, daughter, and one of his sons were found on the grounds of his ancestral home. But what of Talaten himself, or his other son?
A normal bag lets you hold stuff. A bag of holding lets you hold more stuff. This bag lets you hold someone else’s stuff.
A pouch that randomly generates (not very) usefull items
A gruesome artifact that harbors the savage soul…
The Heart that beats slowly in the dark.
Julia went from riches to rags…
A young queen, beautiful and cruel.
A war for limits.
An ancient fire, a civil war.
The conspiracy has begun.
This blade is not old, nor is it renowned. It means alot to the one that bears it, however, and can be very deadly if used properly.
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.