85. Candle of Soul Keeping
When lit, this candle protects the soul of the person who lit it. If he or she should die while the candle burns, they will not return as any sort of undead, nor will any dark sacrifice of them produce any benefit.
86. Candle of Recording
When lit, this candle burns down to exactly its halfway mark, then extinguishes itself. If lit a second time, the candle will completely burn out, replaying any sounds made within its radius when it was first lit.
87. Candle of the Valkyrie
While this candle burns, the person who lit it is under observation by the Valkyries. These candles are commonly lit by warriors before battle, and when camps are threatened in a battle, warriors have been known to break from combat to protect their candles. Go to Comment
At the center of the world sits the Citadel, perched atop the rocky crag known as The Godspire, which in turn juts forth from the region known to many as The Diamond Desert.
Here, knowledge of the world's most fascinating and frightening locales is gathered, as well as tales of the land's greatest legends. Scholars the world over travel here to partake of this font of information, and it is a popular destination for adventurers, as well. Is it not said that one should know his enemy as himself? Yet, only the boldest and most competent can overcome the rigorous journey to get here, for the desert is a place of great danger, and the Godspire is no easy climb. Those who complete the quest, however, are rewarded with one of the finest sights in the world - the sunset over the glittering sands, as well as an overview of the world, which stretches forth from the peak in every direction, rushing towards the ever-distant horizon. Go to Comment
I think your kingdom might be better off as its own submission.
If you want to link that submission here, then by all means do so, but this isn't a place for developing entirely new posts; it's more intended to link together other submissions in a useable format. Go to Comment
To the east of the desert sits the mountainous Land of the Yale Riders. To those seekers of the Citadel who come from that direction, the mountains are the last place of hospitality one can expect before facing the dangers yet to come. For those too foolish to enjoy the respite offered by this friendly people, paths have been marked about the mountains.
Though this mountain range rises to great elevations, one can stand at the peak of one of the highest mountains in the range, and still need to gaze upwards to see the top of the Godspire, which serves as an ever-present reminder of their ultimate goal to those who pass through these valleys and heights. Go to Comment
Wrapping about the north and west of The Diamond Desert sits The Old Kingdom. This land grew mighty and powerful even as the other cultures in the region remained confined to small hamlets, living a barbarian lifestyle. Bards tell of how the king of this land grew lustful of the surrounding territories, and sent his armies to attack them, spreading lies about the inhuman practices of the other cultures nearby to turn his people against them. And turn they did. Even when the armies were elsewhere, it was not unknown for groups of citizens to gather some liquid courage and burn down a non-Kingdom hamlet.
Thousands of innocent lives were lost in such attacks, and those who survived grew bitter and resentful towards the Kingdom. One of these survivors was Ti'Klund. Even as the young man struggled to achieve his druidic potential, he plotted how best to avenge himself upon the Kingdom. And when he heard of the queen's love of birds, he had an idea. Gathering his powers, he created life, as so few have ever been able to do, in the form of a single, golden duck. He enchanted the duck with spells of ill-fortune and prepared to send it to the queen, to bring down trouble upon her land and household. But before he could dispatch the duck, its ill-fortune affected him, and he was slain by orcs, the duck simply being left in the cave wherein he dwelled.
Two hundred years passed, and the aggression of the Old Kingdom ended, even as new realms were born on around the land. It was now that a band of adventurers stumbled across Ti'Klund's cave, and within it, the Golden Duck. Finding a note which described the bird as a git for the queen, and seeing that the occupant of the cave was clearly gone, the adventurers took it upon themselves to deliver the duck to the queen. And so, they rode to the great city Sab Rejak, where the royal court of the Old Kingdom dwelt, and presented the duck to Her Majesty. She was pleased by its beauty, and kept it close to her, and the adventurers rode off even as the long-dead druid's spells began to take effect.
War came quickly to the kingdom, followed by depression, low birth rates, and corruption. Yet these misfortunes paled in comparison to the plague. Sickness ravaged the kingdom, slaughtering the populace and causing the nearby kingdoms to close their borders. Within only a few decades, Sab Rejak, once the finest city in the world, became known as The City of the Lost. Even once the plague began to die down, it remained contagious, and those who dared enter the kingdom found themselves wracked with sickness, for the Golden Duck yet lived within the place at Sab Rejak, and until its death, the plague could not die.
Now, few dare to enter the Old Kingdom, and the City of the Lost is nearly unreachable at its position near the kingdom's center. Thus, those who travel to reach the Citadel are advised to find some other way to get there, and to avoid the Old Kingdom at any cost. Go to Comment
Before the revolt, the armies of Vallermoore were renowned for their efficiency, and for the lethalithy of their strike teams and special agents. When the queen was overthrown, many of these units were disbanded, releasing men who had known little but violence into the streets. Most tried to become normal again, but not all.
Among those who did not was Talon a man who, in the time since, has forged a name for himself among the newly risen-nobles and street-thugs. Although he would no doubt be an invaluable resource for those who yet wish to stop crime, none dare to hold him, and so they turn upon the more innocent, and the less protected. Go to Comment
Personally, I quite like this one, as it shows some interesting effects that the Sorrows have on the rest of humanity. The ways that these guys are formed is I'm particularly fond of - that simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time could essentially destroy one's humanity.
Also, since most of the Sorrows are in a perpetual state of their emotion, could it be that there is no Sorrow of Ambition - only Thralls, all desperately competing for the coveted powers? Go to Comment
Updated: You're right; spiders don't make sense, so I've changed it to other plain-dwellers who might seek shelter.
The large amount of dust is partially because the ghost is one of those resentful types, who tries to get away with as little work as possible, and partially because I envisage animals frequently walking in and out of the shrine - perhaps to drink from the troughs - and they would track dust behind them.
As for poor Emperor Haius, I typed 'the Magnificent' at first, but my fingers refused to stop there. Go to Comment
Updated: What I'd really like advice on is whether this format looks good. Since there will eventually be four similar items, do you think this format will work? Or should I use a scroll? Or stubs for each type of Stone? Go to Comment
Coming back to this one, I'm thinking that you could run a neat campaign with all of the PCs as undead. Sort of a French Foreign Legion or Dirty Dozen kinda thing, with all the PCs being horrible people forced to do good stuff in order to redeem themselves and escape the consequences of their old lives. Go to Comment
The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...