How much life can the stroke of a brush place to a canvas? Perhaps art does imitate life, the Artist knows. The Artist is usually looking for new models.
Long ago there was a cult who worshipped Bast, the fickle goddess of Felines. Their temple has fallen, and the cult dispersed and all that remains is a silver wand adorned with the holy symbol of bast, a cat with emeralds for eyes…
A sentient machine which churns out useless items, but may have a more important task. (actually an It).
A dangerous book of maps…
An item of clothing designed to let librarians reach those books which everyone wants to borrow and are therefore left on the highest shelf.
A magical ring that makes you… huh, was I talking to someone?
This large blue fruit’s pit holds a polarized electrical charge
A devoted and zealous priest of the Ice, Irad nevertheless is troubled by the brutal and vicious ways of those who worship it. Rather than crush and destroy the civilized folk of the South in its name, he would rather they be converted to the faith of his people and worship the Ice as their master. This he feels, can only be acomplished if they are encouraged to revere it rather than loathe it. It is indeed ironic that such a gentle and wise man serves the twisted Ice Lord..
Three days from the nearest shore, nestled on top of a small heath island stands the Tower of Thunder and Gold. More than one hundred wizards and sorcerers live here year round, devoted to the continuation of the magical arts. There are many times more students, consors, and things only describable as others
A lovable old traveller with a voice that can make stories come alive.
A sage is a well known repository of knowledge, a researcher of ancient lore. But knowledge is power, and a commodity to be brokered and sold to the highest bidder. The meershaum smoking man is such a dealer of antiquities and of lore unknown, but he is wrapped in a shroud of secrecy of his own. Can the PCs divine his ulterior motives, or is he a wizened, albeit elusive, sage?
The PCs find themselves on a diplomatic mission, to return the Statue of Helce to the country from whom it was stolen long ago. They soon find themselves tied up in conspiracy, guerilla warfare and a surprising amount of molten rock…
The ice lands…. A place where the forces of ice and frost hold power eternal over the lands,a place where the life giving rays of the sun are smothered and mocked by an eldritch ice mist.. For these desolate,frozen plains are home to the dread Ice Worshippers,a race of savage and feared nomads who are as merciless and relentless as the sinister ice that dominates their lands,the same ice they revere and hold in awe. Held in terror and loathing by the folk of the fair south,they eagerly await the day the ice sends them forth to unleash upon the civilized lands, a demon winter that yearns to consume all life..
Nadia, a sixteen year-old noble lady, is put up to the challenge of surviving when her panpered lifestyle is abrubtly shattered.
Where many a woman’s heart is filled with longing for love, or the comfort of the hearth and home, this arrogantly beautiful woman is consumed with but one thing. Ambition. Born without a heart, but with the grace and genteel manners of the aristocracy, she is the iron fist in a lace glove.
As High chief and seer of the Bakali, the lizardman Baragh is aware that the vey survival of his doomed race hangs in his claws. Knowing that the odds stacked against him are great, he nevertheless pursuses with great doggedness his goal of finding a hero willing to aid him in his struggle to to restore the land of his ancestors back to its rightful masters. Though a part of him knows that the plight of a primitive race of non humans is unlikely to elicit much sympathy, he clings on to the hope that there will be someone brave and noble enough to share his cause.
When the gods were born, so was Spark ... though of little power, he did not lack drive, and so did not those whom he favored…
Serenity Cove is a picturesque coastal town once thriving and prosperous. Now finds that it is in the grips of a terrible evil.
King Coloman had a problem.King Charles (known as the Fat King behind his back) was coming to take over his kingdom.It was not that Coloman had started any trouble, it was just that the Fat King was as greedy for new lands to add to his over growing empire as he was at the dinner table.Whilst the Fat King was not a good general himself,he had several talented subordinates who were, as well as an army three times the size of Coloman’s.
King Coloman called his Royal Council together to decide what to do.Simply using assassins would not work.There were six decent generals, and at most an assassin might be able to kill two,and that would mean he or she would die in the attempt. Reingold was put to work to create a magical weapon that could kill all six generals,without being so dangerous that it endangered all those who were making it.
He considered golems (too many guards) and various other ideas, and came up with a cloak that had hidden powers.A supposed traitor was the man who gave the Fat King the cloak. The cloak made the Fat King feel wonderful and healed a small wound and some boils that he had, but within an hour, all six generals dropped dead, their strength sucked into the Fat King. Without his generals, the Fat King lost the Battle of Silverock Pass and was killed in the rout that followed. The slightly damaged cloak was recovered and locked for safety in the King’s Treasury, only to be stolen a decade later…
An area known for sweeping mountain vistas, and sleepy alpine hamlets has all but exploded with miners, adventurers, and thieves. Dwarves are showing up in troops, while orcs are churning towards the valley. The reason? Simple…
There’s gold in them thar hills!