“ In a crowded marketplace, a man is standing on a soapbox, orating. Some of the crowd are cheering, some hissing, some standing around saying 'I can't hear a bl**dy word he's saying'. It's a hustings for an election. The PCs can either leave, or stay and listen. If they do the latter, then they can vote too, and they might get quite involved in the cheering. Depending on who wins they might get quite involved in the post-election brawl too...
There are numerous possibilities with this encounter: the PCs might end up talking to one of the nervous candidates before their speech, and offer encouragement and support. Of course this candidate may well turn out to be someone with outspokenly unorthodox views, and the crowd don't take kindly to s/his supporters. Or maybe the seemingly innocuous candidate turns out to be a complete racist, and the PCs wander off embarrassedly, pretending they weren't talking to this person five minutes ago.”
“ When the campfires grow dim, stories are told. Stories of lost cities, great heroes and legends of old. One of these is the story of Knurlheim. Once the proud capital of the Dwarfs, now a ruin- abandoned long ago. Filled with vast riches and treasure. It's secrets forgotten with the decline of the Dwarfs, long ago. No one knows is certain if it ever exsisted at all.”
“ Suppoki-
These creatures are desert animals that are much like huge, quadripedal sloths. They have a hide made of heavy scales to keep out gritting sand, and over that, a thick coat of fur.
During sandstorms, and when they sleep, Suppoki bed down in the sand, covering themselves up until they are miniature dunes.
Suppoki derive what sustenance they can from water sinks, dew, and underground insects.
Suppoki are often ridden by desert tribesmen. They are stubborn and slow, but are often the difference between life and death out on the sands.”
