The most disgusting fungus in the world.

What's this round thing on the wall...

A strange, mystical box, with many rumours attached, that does not want to reveal its secret...

The pride of this tribe has led it to ruin. The only thing that remains is to die with pride.

Some items simply go wrong, that happens from time to time. But some are created by weird minds, even downright deranged ones, minds too sick to be healed. Guess where this one comes from.

Sometimes it is necessary. Sometimes it just happens. Whether to a PC or NPC, a curse is something nasty that changes their life significantly, and not for the better. You were warned.

Globs are a partially amorphous life-form of the shape-changing kind.

Of fire, but not elementals. Short-lived, yet intelligent. Bound to this world they are, more than most of its mortal inhabitants.

The Challenge:
Think of any bizzare life-form, WHATEVER life-form that lives a not-so-standard way. Not the way common sense would expect it. Make it in some way logical or not, just forget the boring everyday logic.

On an outlying farm, the sick grandfather of a family was kidnapped. Can the kidnappers be stopped before they deliver him off-planet?

- "What about that one?"
- "They say he was a chipper back then. Took over his whole family and many more. And now, now he's a real zombie."
Fingers snapped before his face, he didn't notice. He just kept shuffling his cards again, that is all he did. A tear ran down his cheek. He missed the Emotion again.

These are the worlds and planets encountered by daring space explorers.

A little prank that has found its uses. Shaving razor.

What is the worship of knowledge for some, can be revenge for a few, and unwanted revelations for others.

A collection of plot hooks for a game on the road, or more precisely, on the route.

The mountains are often a desolate place, but not without dangers, or opportunities.

A world of spirits, that exists alongside to ours.

The task easier than usual, escort a group of pilgrims from the sleepy town of A to the dwarven forges of B, get the bell and return. But...

The Pelezians, or 'clay people' were strongly bound to the earth. In fertile plains and valleys they lived their happy existence, peaceful, yet ever on their guard. Many nomadic attackers they defeated, until a different enemy came; their advanced technology and weapons (and magic) were beyond the skills of defenders. One-by-one their settlements fell, until the clay people were not more.

To the greedy students of the past, their heritage is but not forgotten.

It is said that there is always night, even during the day it is dark. Undead prowl around freely, and pity to those living that end up there. Still, lucky are those eaten by the hordes, some fools get deeper and their very souls are consumed by the nameless horrors that lurk in some hidden spots. And still more serve as new material for the Necromancers, the only living creatures there, as they say at least...