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- Archmaster of Skillfull Ink Slinging

For Next Level: 2020^xp of 5190^xp complete.

2020^xp

30 Cheeses

Life is like a cheese, it starts off milk, then it curdles, and then it ages and you hope for the best.

- RANDOM

Organizations | 160^xp

The Gudhuhl Tribe

Pardon them, they are barbarians, and think that the customs of their tribe and river are the laws of nature.
Lord Bertrand of Shawstrope

- RANDOM

Dungeons | 220^xp

The Door of Heaven

The door that cannot be reached, the wall that cannot be climbed

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“ God has been slayed by a mortal man and his head is now worshipped and put on a pedestal. The PCs are hired to steal the head and bring it to a mystic that claims to have the power to revive God.”

Michael Jotne Slayer

“ Once every decade on the eve of St. Poskov's Day during mid-winter, the coastal city of Tiyabon experiences a horrific event. Quool's Tide rolls in, depositing hundreds of bloated, fish-eaten corpses upon the pebbly shores of Tiyabon's wide bay. This singularity is to this day unexplained, though countless theories abound. It is said for example, that these corpses are not eaten by the myriad fish of the seas completely, due to the fear all creatures of the seas hold for Quool. Named for Quool, a terrible, antediluvian god of seas and storms, who no longer exists for he has no worshipers, the Tide chokes the beaches and surf with the countless rotting bodies of those who had perished at sea in a violent way. Almost immediately, the lifeless corpses are fed upon by crabs, gulls, and worse things that await the horrid feast. The townsfolk let nature take it course with disinterested disgust, though lately some enterprising adventurers have taken to searching along the beaches of flesh for former deceased companions, with intentions of raising them again! Surprisingly no undead ever rise from among the many corpses. This is also a mystery.”

Murometz

“ You realize a group of men is going right to you. The man in front has a hard determined look on his face, the two men behind follow him with some uneasiness. He stops before you, holding the handle of his sword in one hand, and slaps (choose person carefully) with leather gloves he carries in the other hand. 'Rhadagald Thinvoice, I challenge You to a duel to dea...' Stopping abruptly, he realizes this is the wrong person.”

manfred