Magical items are often prohibitively expensive, largely because the Dragon Blood crystals needed to power them are so very rare. For centuries alchemists and magicians alike have searched for a cheaper, and more abundant, alternative. This just might be the long sort after formula, but price could be higher than anyone ever imagined.

In the dark alleys of Malcaresh, the Caravan City of the Plains, many an adventurer meets his death at the end of an unseen blade. Even more part unwillingly with their belongings, having fallen victim to the thieves and cutthroats plying their old and ignoble trade. Yet even among these, the whispers of House Caraguil invoke fear and discomfort.

'I have seen the beast, tentacled and cruel. Tore out me eye, it did, like pickin’ a plum. It’s cursed, I tell ye, cursed to its cold heart.'
-Jerboam the Sailor

Misunderstood and much maligned, the Hek is a traveller who dreads violence. If it only understood the violence it caused.

Nestled between the towering cliffs of the Zorian plateau, lies a vast cavity that is wide enough to swallow an adult bull elephant with enough space to spare for a small herd of draft horses on either side. There you will find gold, an abundance of it. But what is that you say? That the natives tell you that it is a place of death and home to hideous monster that will devour you? Ignore the savages. They only seek to protect what they are too indolent to grab for themselves.

-A Khanate offical assuring a bunch of miners.

A peculiar guild of specialists. "Flick your ticks, slice your lice, squeeze your fleas."

Hidden above an alcove behind a forgotten waterfall could be one of the last intact temples of a long persecuted religious order dedicated to the worship of their water elemental patron.

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.

Half robot, half vampire

All woman!

I saw him pull that odd piece out once more, using it to fiddled with the lock. He open the big fold, and flipped out one long thin piece. He pulled a single piece out from a slide and fiddled in the lock. He stopped, smirked, and flipping out a small thin scraping tool he began to probe the area around the lock. 'Trapped,' he said.

To trap an ancient demon you need an ancient ritual.
And where do find such a ritual?
In the tomb of an ancient priest, of course.
And that's where the trouble begins.

Eww...take a look at that nasty beast!

An object out of a children's tale, few regard the Key of the Gods as a real object. But those who hunt for it may be in for more than they bargained for.

The dread pirate Corvorane was legendary even after his capture and conversion to a privateer. His secret fortress and hidden treasure are of equal fame. But more than gold lurks in the depths of Corvorane’s Cave.

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

Doomed by the Shadow...

Having spent many years facing the Swollen Shadow and it's lieutenants, the dwarven resistance fighter Vars is one of the few people who could be considered an authoritative source on the most active and malevolent of the Shadow's Minions, the Haints.

With the evil in the hearts of men...

The Shadow grows

The items exemplary of the Swollen Shadow Codex

The City of Shadows itself...

The Swollen Shadow's magic is such, that anyone transported to its demi-plane, will always first arrive in the somber and hazy Umbral Fens, which surround the City of Shadow. After some searching one may find the Brittle Road, which leads through the shadow-choked swamps, to the City proper.