If the adventurers are smart, they can solve this riddle and get the information they need.
The bureaucrat in the Office of Interior Development expects us to solve a riddle before he will even SEE us? You’re kidding me right? Oh, you’re not kidding…
Grappling hooks have a tendency to miss their targets, or to simply give way. Now both of these problems are solved at once, with a hook that can think for itself!
Lying prostrate on the floor, his documents and scrolls strewn beneath him, was Taewoo Kin - clearly dead, with gruesome marks around his neck that suggested strangulation by something of disturbingly inhuman origin…
Deep within the bowels of the perilous labyrinth, the fearless heroes come upon a grand, ornate chest. Eager for more plunder to line their pockets with, they heave up the lid - to find nothing. A red herring? Maybe not.
It’s no secret that Ogres fight dirty. The slobbering hulks will wield anything they can find in their bloodthirsty rage - which often results in very odd weapons indeed!
Invented by the Pelezians, the ceremonial bowl became a part of the holy tradition, coupled with a most practical purpose.
(Made for religions of agriculture.)
A small weed that rarely grows big enough. Farmers like to remove it from their soil, finding little use for it. A secluded sect of monks living in the same region thinks differently, and bases an important ritual on this plant.
Who says maids can’t use magic?
Life as a street urchin is a pathetic existence indeed - and Me’fiante has it worse than most. In a back-alley underworld filled with trickery and subversion, the ability to sense lies is often more of a curse than a blessing.
Deep in the heart of the primal Slumbering Woods lies a magic-laden swamp, forgotten in the centuries since the first primitive land creatures crawled from its teeming depths.
When one has missed the chance for adventure, one finds it very difficult to get along with one’s heroic peers. Phineas Rowcome, the renowned Halfling scholar, nurses a deep jealousy for those whose lives are filled with excitement…
The air is chilled and causes goosebumps, while not a sound stirs across the glass smooth surface of the water. The Inn rises three stories above the bank of the river, a single lantern lit on the quay.
When does a boon become a bane? The wise often falter and make foolish mistakes under the guidance of those who are treacherous in design.
Your eyes can lie. Blindfolds can slip away. The Dark Latern extinguishes the deception of light and shadow.
A Legendary magic item given to Oamahar of the Wise by Aurorobouros for achieving perfect harmony with the elements. Warning: This item may not really exist, nobody knows.
This beautiful amber charm has changed the fate of empires, saved towns in the past, caused romances…and left a trail of damaged and destroyed minds in it’s wake. The one who would use it’s power should be prepared to pay a heavy price…
A commoner has run into a LOT of money! Unfortunately, everyone knows it. Good luck getting out of town in one piece!
Looking for a charm to ward off evil spirits or the claw of a marsh dragon?
Need some willow bark for your headaches or a potion to cure a lack of virility?
Got a weird looking ring and you don’t know what it is?
Dural could be your man.
Why go to all trouble of applying makeup, when a few simply cantrips can produce much better results in a fraction of the time?
The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...