“ The PCs see a large oak tree, a curious species of yellow and black butterflies swarm around it. Upon further inspection they find that the tree is hollow and that there is an underground cave in it from which the butterflies appear. Will they inspect this strange cave?”
“ 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”
“ A flower possibly in the plains or maybe all over that is always tilted towards a certain place. Sunflowers. Could possibly follow the sun or could be forever facing a certain position because of something that happened, either the air forcing it that way and it staying, the fire was so strong that the flowers faced away from it. It could be that in one spot a large fire was made or a fire war where many fire elementals were destroyed by the True Gods and radiating out from that point all of this flower is facing away from it so no matter where you are you always know where this place is by seeing which way the flower is facing away from.”
