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- Adept Tinkerer of Page Scratching

For Next Level: 20xp of 540xp complete.
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“ The king's palace is destroyed by a falling star, which detonates like a nuclear bomb in the center of the city. When the inhabitants grow brave enough to investigate the ruins of the palace, they find a new ruler, one from beyond the stars, emerging from the meteor.”
CaptainPenguin
“ One of the PCs comes across a magical ring that grants some power but has odd aura as if cursed. Yet this curse is different than the standard curse. When the PC puts on the ring he/she suddenly feels married. There is now an illusionary woman, who he/she cares deeply for but who is also always very critical of the PC. The wife is demanding of attention and constantly giving the PC directions. The PC wearing the ring is the only one that can see and hear the bride. The curse can never completely be lifted. Even if the PC takes off the ring and somebody else puts the ring on; the PC will still be visited by the ex-wife at least once a month. During this visit she will demand money and apologies.”
axlerowes
“ Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat. Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the 'Ash-Wind' comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.”
Murometz
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