“ Just off the road a man lies dead, pierced through the heart from behind by an expertly thrown and ornate dagger which remains in the body. A long strip of cloth torn from the man's shirt has been tied around his neck; on the tag end an unknown hand has written a cryptic inscription: 'For Djaygo.'
When you get to the next town, everyone is talking about a mercenary woman found slain in exactly the same fashion in her room at the inn where she was staying.
Who will die next, and why?”
“ Magic is like alcohol, the more that is used, the more it causes a hangover later on and the less judgement one has when using it. If one waits a while after casting a spell, things 'detoxify.' A cantrip or two is like a sip of weak beer, whilst a large creation spell is like a bottle of vodka. Cast something too big and you can die from magic intoxication.”
“ village of the damned. A village of people that have been 'raised', from death by priests, too many times. At first glance the folk appear as any other, but upon closer examination, they are pale, drawn, and tired...”
