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- King Scribbler of Colorful Dreams

For Next Level: 14272^xp of 57440^xp complete.

14272^xp

Hall of Honour

Golden

Quests

The Daedalus Factor

The Despotic Queen of Shiant has decreed that a competition will take place in the month of Oconerry. She will have built a labyrinth through which the contenders must pass in order to win the ultimate prize: her hand in marriage.

The Wyrde Woods

Deep in the woods, something has gone wrong. Travellers are disappearing like flies and the townspeople are wary of passing under its shady eaves.

Locations | 265^xp

Lazhkmazhon

An impressive citadel in the Askharnn mountains. Their prohibitive laws on travel during the Winter months can be a problem for pilgrims and wanderers.

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“ In a small inn (the more remote the better), a man turns up dead. There are no wounds on his body what-so-ever, and he aboslutely reeks of garlic. The man died of a curse that forced him to eat a clove of garlic a day or suffer the penalty. This gets really interesting if the body somehow appears on top of a someone the villagers are suspcious of.”

Fiokar_Dracolas

“ AutoMedon A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking. 'It's strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its' workings or even if the damn thing is' Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman”

Jarons20

“ In a new town for the first time, the White Raccoon Lodge looks like a comfortable place to spend the night. The owner, however, makes sure to explain to you that there is a curfew after sundown and the door will be locked... from the outside. 'We don't want anyone being caught out on the streets after dark,' he says. Now that you think of it, all the doors in this small town did have a crossbar on the outside rather than the inside... You wonder what goes on at night...”

Skull