In the quaint little town known as Golothei, the infamous black legion makes it's last stand against the mountain tribes of the Ugeroth. On the Asylum River Island the battle rage most intensely, legionary squad mages barely holding their own against the onslaught of chaos worshipping tribal sorcerors. To this location the PCs are destined to travel in search of the powerful artifact known as the Tallow Candle. But not all is as it seems within the halls of the asylum.

A white silken mask with burnt edges. A white little mask which eventually led it's wearer to be burnt at the stake.

The Eternals are one of the few races who survived the awakening of the Gods and the fall of Prime Creation. They were solitary, but powerful, weavers of essence and were locked in a bloody war with the Other Ones, another race which survived the Gods.

Even though the Gods struggle so, their achievements are temporary at best.
For all beings must dream, and within those dreams dwell the Dreamer.

Come then and succumb to the lord, come then and enter the realm of sleep.
Come then taste the nectar, made of the tears of the dreamer.

-The 5th verse in the Book of the Dreaming Cult

Some GMs, and the computer game industry too, seems to think gemstones, gold and magic weapons are the only way in which to reward the players. Most experienced GMs know this isn't true, so I created this thread here to let us remind each other of the different alternative rewards a player can receive, and to have a place where ordinary item descriptions can be posted.

A follow up thread to MoonHunter's NPCs out of History. These are battles out of history that may serve to inspire GMs to create cool battle scenarios or mythical battles / rumours of battles.

Throughout creation there are locations which serve as nexuses of sorts; conduits between one place and another. Such are the rules of translocation that only areas that border each other can be traversed by physical or magical means.

When the Gods forged Creation they imbued everything with a spirit of its own, a soul so to speak. The trees, the bushes, serpents and birds, everything was imbued with a soul. Even the very earth and the mountains got spirits of their own, as did the winds, the rain and the storms.

'Sigh. Another mysterious, highly skilled assassin, with a difficult child hood and black clothes. Oh. This one has knives in his belt, not his boot. Well, at least it is not a Drow. '

Hell. A place of suffering and torment, a often used and cliche ridden place that every GM has to relate to.

Necromancy: By some it is considered as nefarious black arts and by others a vault of opportunities, the very key to the secrets of life. A substantial part of the necromancer's practice is devoted to undeath; a state in which one is neither alive nor dead. Unbeknownst to the general populace there are three ways in which undeath can provoked, and the curse of unlife bestowed upon the recipient.

There exists, within the interdimensional realm known as 'Muir', a most holy city; a city of Gods, a city of Legends, a city with Dark Secrets.

One of the toys of the ruler of the lost realm, the music box of Mordalin gives great powers at an even greater cost.

On the intersection of Noble Avenue and First Street lies Kandorr's Fine Perfumery. The shop occupies the entire building which is built in a classical style with majestic marble pillars and stylish stained glass windows.

Barrow Dragons is a race of lesser dragons, nearly as small as wyverns or about the size of two oxen, that most often make their abode within dark and dry subterranean lairs.

An enormous Angoath was holding a young recruit in his hands, his body broken and blood seeping freely from between the cracks of his banded armour. The dead legionary's head lolled unnaturally; obviously the neck had been crushed. It was amazing how fast these creatures could move and suddenly it lowered its head and charged headlong towards me, no doubt intending to skewer me on that sharp, spiky ridge. All around me I glimpsed similar scenes. The Angoath were washing over us like a wave of black silver, their claws rending us apart, their teeth chewing into our armour.

A second chance

This is the conclusion to the Prophecies of Redemption Campaign. The characters have sojourned through mountains and lowlands to reach the forest in which the entrance to the demon lord's citadel can be found.

But the Citadel is not what one could expect. Can the PCs find their way in and survive to tell the tale?

On one of the adventurers' many journeys through the lands, they one day enter a very strange village surrounded by a palisade. Therein all villagers seem to be sleeping, their hair long and flowing and their nails ever growing. Snow has settled on the land and the few found outdoors are covered in a thin layer of powdery white snow. Nothing can be done to awaken these mysterious sleepers and there seems to be no escaping this village either.

Then the night falls...

Angels are the guardians of Order, the forces that oversee that the purpose of existence is indeed fulfilled.