In the harbour of a major city a large and terrifying ship made of human nails docks. Nobody seems to inhabit this ominous vessel, someone needs to go on board and unveil the mystery. In comes the PCs.
A furry animal with human eyes and a trunk that devour dreams and nightmares.
It is possible to buy magical abilities. The process is very dangerous though, involving chemicals, rituals and surgery possibly leaving the aspiring mage insane, retarded or scarred for life.
The road has never been more than an overgrown mud track, little travelled and little cared for, petered out to nothing more than a flattened earthen line, barely distinguishable from the rest of the landscape. The soil is dark and fecund and dark oaks stand like sentinels at the forest edge, their branches high and leafy. From them hang grizzly human bones, skulls and shiny precious stones. Who put these strange totems there? Are they warnings? Do the PCs dare to take the stones?
A circus is in town and while parading down the main street the animals suddenly break free from the cages. After surviving and assisting during the breakout the PCs are hired to help with the investigation. Who did this and why?
The PCs find a strange helmet, when donned it will take control of that PC and speak and act trough him/her. It explains that it is benevolent and needs their help in a quest and that it will stop possessing the PC when the task is done. Great if a player is gone for a number of sessions.
All magic is suddenly gone. No mage can sling sorcery anymore. This upsets all empires and civilizations. It is soon discovered though, trough the combined work of mystics, scholars and dreams, that all the magic has been drawn into a single orb in a vast tower located at one of the poles. Whoever gets there first wins the greatest price in history, access to all the magic in the world. But who owns the tower?
The PCs see a large oak tree, a curious species of yellow and black butterflies swarm around it. Upon further inspection they find that the tree is hollow and that there is an underground cave in it from which the butterflies appear. Will they inspect this strange cave?
The PCs see a large collection of urns in a pool of swamp water. All the urns are lidded and seem very old, what do they contain?
In the inaccessible plateau of Hor-Nushan, there was always little crime. But in late autumn comes a maddening wind, that can drive the best man crazy, if only for a short time, make him turn on himself or others. For murder, the locals have devised a special punishment: the murderer has to dig a well for the family of his victim. The area is very dry, and having a good well is a source of wealth and prestige. In this way, the murderer atones for his deed and repays the family; perhaps they even find peace.
The massive blade known as Consequences carries several potent enchantments of battle, but also has a frustrating quirk: Its wielder finds himself unable to put it down until he enters the presence of a magistrate or other authority. Even then, it instantly returns to his hands if he has committed murder and fails to confess. Unless he somehow resists the blade's magic, the weilder's hands then run with fresh blood; the judgmental blade fights his every motion until he confesses his crimes.
Little halflings are told that if they don't behave, a demon called Santa Claus from a hell of ice will kidnap them and force them to toil making toys.
Magic is impossible except for a handful of days in the year, when those with the knowledge become hugely powerful.
Fidlin, a gnome wizard with a paission making animals smarter and his Trusty "side-kick" Kat a greatsword weilding badger of uncommon power.
Kat, walks upright with the greatsword slug over his back, and yes he knows he has a girls name.(don't remind him)
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman
Trying to find a place for this...
"After the famine hit the land, the priest Galen began religious wanderings, drawing his congregation to follow him. Those who took up with him, began to walk, a great outpouring of energy to this religious pilgrimage, coming from an impoverished nation with no true direction other than to find relief. Galen professed to his followers that they would find great resources set by his God down on Earth for them, enough to nourish and slate their thirst. Those that fell as he took them across the barren plains of the western reaches, rose again to join the lines. When finally all had died, Galen led them further, praising Nuh-Erell for that first city they came upon and a feast of flesh that lay in wait"
What to export or import....
Fabric: wool, linnen, silk...
Wood: raw-material, furniture
Metals: iron, gold, silver, copper...
Wine, beer, mead, spirits...
Animals: horses, sheep, swine, cows...
Coloring-powder (for fabric, ink...)
Raw-material to make fabric: unprocessed wool, linnen, silk...
Glass: Windows, figurines, glasses, raw-material...
Tea (not sure about my spelling here, but I mean the hot drink Englishmen drink instead of coffee!)
at a place were magic gathers, for what ever reason, the trees of this place produce fruit that is filled with magic energies . these fruits when eaten cause different effects. much like the potion a wizard makes.
Tämbourine is firmly placed on my back ,to unsheathe this sword I simply have to say "re clouse" meaning come to me or i can just reach over and unsheathe it the old fashioned way. This sword was created to my liking tambourine is made of raw-like metals I found in different regions as I begun to forge the metals together, I’ve noticed that the raw metal materials were different pieces to a wide variety of swords that were used the past and present, being so most blades have a sheer grey texture Tambourine’s blade became black as the depths of the oceans. The blade expands to 6” which weighs 426lbs the sapphire jewel placed on the tip of hilt (upper middle center of the base) it emits a aura texture of purple which weighs 24lbs the jewel is un-breakable it negates magic for tambourine has a mind of its own only belonging to me it finds a worthy opponents who doesn’t use magic or any type of power to their liking which I can agree with(who would want an opponent that abuses their powers to kill for no reason or to avoid dying by honor tambourine fights with honor and accepts its glory or defeat) I’ve named the sapphire Sophia because not only that its rare and radiant it resembles my burning passion for my love Sophia. I made the hilt to be a length of 15 inches its frame is created with fine katchin (very thick and heavy metal) it alone weighs 50 pounds its texture is black like mixture of, I made it to be a cruciform hilt so it has room for two hands. I I made the blades hilt aprox. 2”, the blade is double-edged but the left side of the swords frame can block and or negate ones attack if needed, it weights 500lbs making it nearly unmovable. To go up against this sword is to quickly find your own death. Tambourine is a twin sword to Terra.
Meta energy...lent by lunos of the seven skys, father of the dragongods, has the power to alter events, rippling through time and space, no other form of energy is stronger, with the ability to even destory planets.It rips apart sheilds by going back in time before they were brought up. No weapon can withstand the force of such It is a power usable only by families bloodline, and those we have chosen to gift with miniscule amounts of its power. It not being of this plane, isn't even subjective to the so called "gods" here. Different worlds, different levels of power.
It is a power of change and manipulation, essentially leaving us to create with it what we will, if our mind is strong enough to do so.
Large amounts of this inserted into any one being/energy will cause them to implode, ripping themselves apart and sucked into another dimension entirely.
The limitations of meta are only set by ones mind, an open mind has no limits to the powers of meta.
"...the Ilthian mountains. A craggie masse of rock rysing from the Ilth'n plaines. The waters whych springe from it are ful of godeness and fortyfie those who drynk them [+1 STR]. Alas the vyle beasts resydent in these hills also bathe in these waters, and in the doing gain great strength. Foes mortallie wounded have bene known to flee, onlie to return, revytalised houres later..." - Chronicler Eamusil, Mondopedia, Vol XV (The Lands of Sylmen)