The question was asked about how you run a high level campaign. While this is a simple question it is not very simple to answer. Anyone who is an experienced DM will tell you that, especially for a beginner. In order to answer this I began thinking backwards.

Having remembered our first character’s, how many remember your favorite love? That character that will always travel with you in stories to every game session? The one that taught you how to role-play, or the one that brought the most laughs?

Damn 'ol thing it tis. Itches like nuthin I e'er felt. Stupid bugs, your the Poosker ye fool. Help me get rid o' these damnable things.

I hate to tell you this but you have what we liked to call, 'Puces Barbe Morts', or undead beard fleas. And the only way to be rid of them is to cut off your beard and then burn the hair.

No! Just kill me it's less painful that way.

What happens when the very fabric of magic is transformed into something else by accident. When the theories of transference are shattered due to lack of preperation and study?

As long as you do not experiement around your stash of magic scrolls, luckily you will never know.

From the bone dusted hills of Aadda, to the ocean foam of the pearly bay.
The children of the sweet legions frolic in the streets by day.
At night their games are different, and guards whisper of their skills and feats.
They say that nothing is safe, or too large, for the legions of the Knuckle Sweets.

- A song sung around taverns to honor the children gang.

A place of majestic views, amazing life, and hidden treasures. The secrets that the jungle holds in its folds are both breath taking and soul taking. When traveling to Bone Island one must be wary, not of just the tribal inhabitants and exotic creatures, but the secrets that the gods forgot.

From the depths of the void the masses crash through the Gates of Forlorn and wreak havok on the world of men. The flood is an unending tide of chaos and destruction that is everlasting. Their thirst for blood is surpassed only by the rising of the son, on it stands eternal. On the comming of the Flood, the children of the lost god will reign supreme on a charred world where the people are enslaved, and the rulers are Demonblood.

- Excerpt from the tome of Caedmon.

To the first or casual observer, this island sitting out in the ocean seems normal, if not heavily covered with lush trees and foliage. To those who have extensive nautical experience know something is amiss, especially since the island is never in the same place twice.

The stone and I have the same desires,
Day in, day out.
We want by each other to be sought,
And we want to embrace each other taut.
The stone and I have the same desires,
Day in, day out.

An often misunderstood poem of the Heartstone rings.

And now the day was here, and the people had gathered for the spectacle of my punishment for show throughout the arena the bodies of those about to perish had led off a procession of their own death. My master was sitting there piling up favor derived from our blood. Although no one could know my fortune, my family, my father, because I was separated from my homeland by the sea, among certain spectators nevertheless one thing made me pitiable, that I seem inadequately prepared; truly I was destined to be a certain victim of the arena, no one had caused less expense for the giver of the games than I. One thing they do not know, while I may be inadequate in preparation, the fear of a cornered man knows no bounds.

-Agustine, prisoner of war and Gladiator

“Sir, Legatus Suuhai has commanded us to hold and prepare for flank attacks from the enemy. He said we are to hold and be ready to sweep among them. Your order?

Order? If Legatus Suuhai says to hold then we wait. He among the half breeds I respect. He stands like a bastion of strength when those stronger leave puddles at their feet. He says hold, we hold. But tell the others, soon we shall run and blood shall spill this day at our hooves and claws and the Dark Moon shall reign superior yet again.”

Sedecim Ductor Octavious - Commander of the 6th Divortium of the Army of Blades.

If you had an unusual amount of gold and silver at your disposal, where would you put it? Would the fear of the night stalkers run the risk of hiring to many inept gaurds to patrol your home to keep your coins safe? Would the gardener that you have known for years now look suspicious because he asked how your business was doing? Look no further, let the Coinlenders Guild protect your coins and wipe your worries away.

- Coinlenders Guild Advertizment.

There! Did you see it that time? I swear someone is following us. I keep seeing torchlight through the damn trees. I'm telling you, something is following us.

Thom, your either seeing things or drinking to much. There is no one following us. See look . . . wait, they look . . . they look like spiders but they are on fire!

- Last words of Micha, Traveller and Explorer.

In a prison without walls, without guards, and without law; what kind criminal would choose death over a prison such as this?

One destined to go to Hellgate Prison.

The crowd erupted in a bright flash of multi-colored light, red and green flashing once each blinding those to near. The clash of metal on metal rang over the dinn of the voices of the market place. Cries of a fight swept through the streets ending up at the ears of the city watch.

“Someone broke a seal again. Thats to bad, as I didn’t want to have to kill anyone today.”

- Corporal Watesan, 2nd Shift of the day watch. Cerb City, Cerb.

Have you or anyone you know ever been accused of a crime you didn’t commit? Been sent to the Hangman knowing you were innocent? Have you ever welcomed the noose to prove it?

The second era started off in better light than the 1st era ended. For almost 500 years there was a rebuilding going on with the Gison, continued growth for the Olwynn, and understanding with the Derevo about the different factions in their families. Like all things, this time had come to and end.

The balance must be kept in check. Today you suffer my anger and wrath but tomorrow we shall dine and laugh. Forgive me for my duty my child, it is the way of Order. Choas today, Order for tomorrow.

- Priestess of Xukthalas preaching to a fallen foe.

"Hail! You there, farmer. We are in need of aid; do you have a temple or a priest? We ran into some bandits up the road there and are injured. Jonst won’t last much longer." A large man bellowed from the broken roadside.

"Of course stranger. You can find Luayas in the center of the village proper continue on until you see a large apple tree; she can aid your wounded. Please be gentle and offer tithes for her generosity." A gentle eyed man in homespun clothing, simple yet comfortable in the heat.

"Thank you farmer, we are in your debt. What does Luayas look like so that we might find her quickly? Does she stay by the tree often?" saying over his shoulder in thanks as he half pushed, half carried his companion along.

"No stranger." The farmer laughed, "She is the tree."

In a world where it seems that even the smallest of ideals has a deity to call a patron, even bastards have a patron god to call their own.