Scents of ages past and scents of the zeitgeist. A guild of perfumers.
Fewer things under heaven reek
like the lofty spires of Wlatsoom Peak
Vernissage, apprentice bard.
The scent of magic
A slightly atypical stinking swamp festering with goblins
"Aww, dang, did you fart again?" asked the Jordy, The Knight.
"No, screw you! I didn’t fart in the first place!" replied The Scoundrel, Harris. What they didn’t know was that the Smelbinders could hear their every word.
"You shall never catch anything but a whiff of me!" Vaivin yelled, as he ran down the dark tunnel being chased by giant rats. All of a sudden he was gone and all that remained was a cloud of gas.
Half-serious, half-silly, a scroll of cosmetic and related products for the undead amongst you. Use and abuse at your own risk.
This tavern and common house (restaurant) looks like any other quaint building in the area. It is a good sized common house, serving upto 50 people comfortably. The Stinking Rose gets its name by the primary ingredient for its food - Garlic.
As you emerge from the shop in the alleyway, not-too-distant clanging and stamping makes you wary. Further investigation reveals a massive Balgrian protest march flooding the main street, banners roaring about the inhuman conditions in which this ethnic group is forced to live. City guards stand helplessly by, beating up the odd protestor, but unable to hold back the flow. Onlookers throw vegetables at the Balgrians, and shout abuse.