“ A desolate region is almost entirely without normal vegetation. Local plants are able to unroot themselves and crawl along the ground in search of water and fertile soil. The inhabitants fence their crops in to keep them from wandering off and put heavy stone thresholds in the doorways of their huts to keep wayward plants out.
The plants sense by chemical cues, lacking sight or hearing, and tend to avoid herbivores or anything that smells of 'dead plants'. Characters with horses are likely to be unwelcome among the locals.”
“ A group of individuals* gather up and search for, 'The rod of Lordly Might.' Here's the catch, no just any individual is welcomed. There will be a meeting on sundown* in an old bar. As it is, a war is going on between the Eastern Front, and the Western Front. The bar/tavern is in the middle of both lands.
On the same night of the meeting, there's another meeting with the Red Rose (Eastern) and the Black rose (Western).
Once on the mission, there will be other individuals met and given information... there will not be an easy destiny, but nonetheless and adventure to remember.
***
I used INDIVIDUALS for the fact that you can be any species (just keep away from the elemental and supernatural creatures.). Here are some suggestions: Vampire/ress, Adhiel (Elf), Half-Adhiel (Half-Elf), Orc, Human, Half-Human...
Please do not be: Orc, Troll, Frost/Forest/Urban/Dessert Monsters, Giants, and Titans. Note that you can still be one, just preferably not one.
I used SUNDOWN for a realistic reason (Vamps, Giants, and others meet at night). You don't meet someone who works for the Eastern/Western Kings during the day. I expect some drunks, bar fights, and bloodshed in the story. Mild or no Language is acceptable (unless unexceptable by the MODS).”
“ Oazduke's Vengeful Head.
The head haunts all headsman and executioners.
A floating, bloody head, long separated from its body, is a particular legend among a very particular group of people, executioners, specifically those that chop heads from a block for a living. It was that infamous highway robber, Oazduke the Vengeful, who when finally captured and put to the axe, screamed his foul hex, seconds before his head flew off.
'You will know it is me when I'm through
A curse on your ilk and on you!
May my severed head haunt you eternal
Frightening you headsmen infernal!'
Years later, not one but two(!) weary, puffy-eyed, spooked, headsmen, haunted day and night by Oazduke's insufferable severed head, approach the party cleric in order to hire him to exorcise the ghost head once and for all.”
