A magical plauge is disrupting the city of Blue Marina. Victims are found poisioned and covered in weals and, oddly, pennyless. Can the players solve this crisis before rich and poor are destroyed?

A wraith turned a wandering fairy into a a fairy wraith. It turned on it's own people and destroyed the entire nest of faries. Except one. And now that one needs your help.

And you thought they were always cute all the time...

We've seen magicians pull rabbits out of a hat, but have you ever seen a druid pull a boar out of his shirt?

A cleaver the size of a large shield.

Many magical items adventurers seek out help them carry more loot, keep themselves fed and healthy, or just simply hack the bad guys to itty bitty bits. This one lets their loot carry itself.

An over sized blowgun with a matching specialized bag of holding. This blowgun is halfling made and it should be noted that 'whiffle' is the halfling word for gerbil.

What the F#$%??? - Revolutionary Commander Flint Westbark upon seeing the device for the first time.

A metal found deep in the bowels of the earth. It stays warm even after years away from the forge.

The rampaging goblin army that fell the Great Castle Craghold used this evil catapult to do it. That, and a number of their troops as sacrifice...

A pike that holds the spirit of a brave slain warrior.

A staff that was supposed to give control over all the elements was horribly warped by a misspoken incantation.

In case you get a sinking feeling, you can use this.

A new take on hell that leaves you gasping on the edge of panic.

Chaos and Law have reached a comprmise and stopped thier warring. This truce holds as long as the respecitve priests honors the other's ways for one day of the year. Lawful preists must incite a large decadant celebration or carelessness and the chaotic priests must chaperone the event and keep the party from turning ugly while remaining out of involvement. Thus the warring of the gods has been kept in check for decades and all is well. At least untill the materials for the party come up missing two short weeks before the truce day...

There lies a valley, far to the west, on the shores of The Great Northern Sea, that has a mist that is both blessing and curse. All those that breath the mist heal with remarkable speed, so fast that only the mightiest blow or the truest strike can fell the smallest beast. The warriors who settled this land became soilders of great renown, for not only were they impenetrable defenders, they were warriors whose aim and might were unsurpassed.

A wrong turn in an other wise well meaning curse leaves the PC's in a tight spot...

That's no moon ...

A weird way to carry and conceal your stuff.

A sturdy metal heater shield with properties useful to the battle commander or the individual soldier.

Two religeous sects are approching open war after members of each sect are found brutally beaten to death.