An impious old mariner feels the lure of wanderlust. He leaves his family and home, but have the gods forgiven his blasphemy?
If you follow the wide well traveled mountain road, you eventually find your way to Skyway. Nestled among the clouds, perched upon the mountain side, this tiny town is the key to many puzzles.
The blackboard of the middle ages
A natural stone with a hole in the center and gift from the earth to the lucky finder.
A totally throw away .. cannon fodder ..shove it in the mouth of the monster and run for it type of character. Useful though for ‘taken with a pound of salt’ information and running small unsavory errands.
A world reknown jester was no fool when his mis-applied one of his amusing spells to create a unique way to carry his loot.
The unicorns are missing from the land of ‘Magical Airs’. Are they lost? Strayed, or stolen?
The lake of rage is just a lake, save for it’s dark powerand the dark tale that gave birth to it
This large shrine the god Sunglory, is not famous for religious reasons as for architectural reasons.
A cloak that turns all those who look at the wearer into a quivering mass of tears.
Some might call it a clawed glove. That would be Anthrocentric. It, and items like it, are magic weapons for being that use magic and do not use weapons, but use their claws. The Clawed Races uses these "claws" to enhance their natural combative ability.
Over three hundred years after the destruction of Linnarson, the ruins of Linnarson remain deserted; the warped magical environs inhabited only by the twisted and bizarre creatures that have been created. Amongst it all, however, the Senior Masters remain, continuing their eternal pursuit of knowledge.
Roland might seem at first to be a typical ranger. But he’d sooner kill you than look at you.
She might not seem to be much of a threat. Not at first. Just pray you never meet her when she’s hungry.
A sword made by ancestors, of ancestors, for desendants. The spirits of the warriors gone before help serve this blade’s master in battle.
The priest of a deity that never seemed to need one.
Mask Behind the Sky carved away all of his stillness to create his Bachta-Toad-Amulet…
A set of gloves crafted by none other than our friendly resident soul-mage, Tarquin. Designed specifically to give a physical attack that is effective even with his weak body.
At first glance, Gray appears to be a normal human. A little exotic looking, but that’s it. But appearances are so often decieving…
Wary and suspicous of human and Orc alike, the halfbreed Gorlock trusts no one, not even his fellow half orcs whom he despises.Though he like his brethen is fated to be shunned by both humans and Orcs, he is troubled by their brutal code which demands that that which is not given freely must be taken by brute force.It is this sense of deceancy which marks him as a truly unique being among his kind…
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.