It looked like a massive landslide, but, just before it slammed into us it turned into a bunch of laughing dwarven children!
The mark of Kronath’s ultimate favor, the Cloak of Dusk is held by her Hunter, her chosen avatar to hunt the living dead, and return them to her embrace.
"What do you mean I changed clothes?"
"Sir- did you steal that cloak"
"Of course not! Haven’t you seen fabric change color before?"
The bearer of this cloak believes it makes him invisible to the rest of the world, but the pure irony is that the cloak only makes him more noticable.
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…
“First, I nibbled on his earlobe. Then, I bit into it, letting the red, red blood roll down his neck. Then, when he screamed and started tearing at me, I ripped the flesh from his hand. Ah, it tasted so good! Yes, yes! Then, I ripped through his jugular, and bit through his spine! Yessss…..”
Stormbound, the ship rolls hard over to once side. All that is not strapped down is tossed violently overboard in a splash of freezing water.
There, on the horizon- a tower. Squat, it stands alone on a tiny island. However, it's the only land in sight, and any more of this ferocious storm will crush the boat to splinters.
Taking shelter within the ornate entryway of the squat tor, the party notes with interest that no signs of life break the silence of the stone tower. As they take another step forward, they realise why.
This is the fabled tower of Brenji, a rich merchant who wished none to share his enormous wealth. He constructed this tower to store his gold- trapped and ready for any potential thieves. But the ingenious pitfalls and scything walls are not the only dangers within the silent walls of the building. A guardian, left behind by Brenji, still stalks these very halls.
A rattling hiss echoes somewhere from below...