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- Archmaster of Skillfull Ink Slinging

For Next Level: 355^xp of 5190^xp complete.

355^xp

Hall of Honour

Golden

Quests

Corticus the Strong

Ppoor little Corticus, born much smaller then the other fauns. Someone needs to help him out, someone needs to build him up...

Moses Duff

A bounty hunter who seems to reach full potential in battle while under the influence of alcohol. He is constantly traveling from pub to pub looking for work. He has stupidly accepted jobs assigned to kill werewolves, vampires, orcs, and the most fierce of beasts.

Sicillia the Griffin Tamer

Very few carry the griffin tamer bloodline, and those that do, are given a remarkable gift...

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“ A group that wished to be 'ever-living' instead was cursed with 'never-dying'. Thier flesh rotted and fell fromthier bones but still they lived on. Now as skeletons they continue thier quest to remove thier curse. As skeletons they differ in that they do not need controlled or summoned. They are fully fledged NPCs with drives or ideas of thier own. Stabbing and slashing weapons would not affect them.”

Priv8eye

“ It seemed like a great place to camp. The clearing was good sized and sheltered from the wind. The brook just a few feet away. There is a natural hallow to keep the horses. Then the night came. It was like it became a different place. The temperature dropped. The wind, which does not seem to disturb cloth, almost cuts through you like an arctic wind. No one can sleep, as the soft ground has turned hard. The horses are uneasy. The Bats are flying over and stopping in the trees. And then there is the eyes. There are glowing eyes just inside the tree line watching your group. The mages and clerics can detect nothing, but there is still something there. (yet there is nothing at all... The Darkness will do nothing unless the players do something to it. And even then it will all seem to be a conincidence.) Of course, in the morning, it all becomes sweet and light.”

MoonHunter

“ Moonlight shines down on the tranquil scene of a slumbering inn along one of the many roads that cross the land. Trees sway gently in the night air, and the stars twinkle brightly. All is quiet as the PCs snore away, a fine tendril of smoke curlsrnunder their door. The tavern is on fire! This is particularly bad news if the PCs own any horses - the screaming they hear is probably from their mounts! Panicky people are rushing about with buckets of water, trying to tame the flames. The fire fighting effort is not very coordinated as everybody is either hungover or still drunk, including the PCs. Hurry!”

Michael Jotne Slayer