The Continent of Bylarian is much like the European part of the Eurasian continent. The Lands, which are west of The Great Divide Mountains are considered part of Bylarian.
The Lost City of Paldor was never really lost. Everyone knew where it was. However, nobody could get to it. Unknown to most, recent Land-Waves (Earthquakes) have opened up the paths to Paldor.
One of the finest mercenary circles who can trace their origins back to the Greater Comet School. They currently are on near permanent hire to the Crown of Kendaria.
D’hui said, “What is “homebrew”?
Kastraad is a Keep and Bailey upon a good sized hill in the mid country. While there has been several battles not far from it, it has been a quiet location for a generation or two. Recently it was taken over by a New Lord, Sir DuKon. He and his few men at arms took the keep from the previous owner (a lazy braggart called Lord KelSen the Fat). After setting himself up as a Lord, he found himself in a difficult position of needing money and being unable to take it (or lands) from his better fortified neighbors. Thus the founding of New Pastello.
The point of the submission is quite simple: man vs nature is a common conflict in fiction, but not so much in gaming, this submission is a step to correct that.
The Purple Bowl is a very nice place in a very bad part of town. From the outside, it seems like nothing but a grungy tavern. The inside reveals much more.
He was frantically pointing towards the glowing mountain. “We need to cast The Spell!”, Bothar screamed!
I held up the scroll we all had risked our lives to get. “Nobody can cast this spell without a prepared mystic space and ritual equipment. It would be suicide,” I said. “Not even him,” I jerked my thumb towards the Magi who smiled slyly.
Silently, he unstrapped that bolt of cloth he had been carrying since I had known him. He unfurled it, tamped it down, with small spikes, pulled a small apothecary chest out, placed and lit four candles on the cloth, drew some lines with some handy chalk, unpacked his remaining tools, then he held his hand out expectantly for the scroll. It took a fraction of a candle mark.
“Solomontic Rug,” he said quietly. “The key to mastery is knowing and having the right tools, be they physical, mental, or magical, and having them ready when you need them.”
The passenger said, “It sounds like your wind chime is broken, or at least out of tune.” The first mate just smiled. “That chime is music to a sailor’s ears, it is,” he said. “We will have smooth sailing this day.”
It was a fine harness and reins. The leather was soft and well tooled. The bit was so shiney one thought it could be silver. It looked like no bit and bridle that he had ever seen. Yet, it seemed familiar, like he had heard stories about this before.
Most towers and baileys are defensive, protecting defenders from attackers. This keep tower and bailey is used to protect everyone else from what is within.
Looking back on things, Keldor was the most unlikely of prophets. While charismatic, he was short, of middling birth, a half breed, and of a questionable profession. Yet his words have change the very fabric of society and created a lasting peace.
HomeTrees, there is nothing more Elven. These enchanted trees are one of the three Keystones of Elventi Society; allowing Elves to live in harmony their beloved forests. Without them, there would be no Elventi Society.
Though he like a bit of the drink, he is the proper organizer for the district.
This mercenary company is listed on the rolls as ‘A Dwarven Archery Unit’. This archaic definition has confused many a lesser commander as to the use of the unit, being that Dwarves are notoriously awful archers. Yet to the savvy commander, the unit becomes the perfect tool for siege combat.
Forged with the souls of 12 good lawmen fighting The Darkness, carried by the 13th, the lone survivor, these shining irons have become legendary weapons for The Light.
Thirteen hundred years ago, a mad powerful wizard had an estate in the area that became the county of Corvis. Over his 800 year span, he created thousands of magikal items of various types and power level. While many were "mighty", there were a large number of lesser and trivial orbs and trinkets. This is their scroll
A small pantheon of deities worshiped by Orcs (or other barbarous races) through their shamans. This write up shows the Orc view of these things, rather than the relative view.
CityCairns are one of the three Keystones of Elventi Society; allowing Elves to live in harmony their beloved forests. Without these stone pylons, there would be no Elventi Society.
The Comet is a herald of things of importance, normally on the field of battle.
The PCs come across a town with a strange curse: Every morning, those who have grown up here wake up with the memories of someone else. They do not find this strange and have no idea it is happening. They calmly wake up and start these new lives as though they have always been that way.
The cause: A wizard who lived there was spurned by a maiden he was infatuated with. His attempt to manipulate her memories into believing they were already together and that she loved him went horribly awry.