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.
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 PCs have travelled long and far. As nightfall approaches a mighty storm is unleashed. Luckily there is a lush wood nearby the path.
A good shelter for the rage of the unnamed weather gods it seams at first. As the PCs enter under the roof of this dense wood, they are welcomed by only a few drops wich is allowed trough the thick forest crown. A fire is offcourse required to warm the weary bones of the travellers. As one of the party is set to the task of collecting firewood the others settle down at a suitable location. But alas, they did not know the perils of this forest. But it seems clear to the rest of the party that something ill is at work as the woodcutters scream echo from afar.