“ In the harbour of a major city a large and terrifying ship made of human nails docks. Nobody seems to inhabit this ominous vessel, someone needs to go on board and unveil the mystery. In comes the PCs.”
“ After a long night of reveling and merriment celebrating their latest victory, one of the PCs awakens with his/her head shaved and a large ornate tattoo on top of their head. Tacky, yes but also a painstaking work of art that has left them with a headache to beat their hangover. The kicker? It is a huge symbol of the god of Evil, Assassins, the Drow, Munchkins, something really really offensive”
“ The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... 'Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate' reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...”