Built for an assassin, the Devouring hand can pass many an attempt to detect it, yet it demands a terrible price of its wearer...

There is trouble in the mines, claims your employer. And you are just the people to solve it.

The Horrors and Wonders of a distant, sun-drenched land. Everything you need to run a desert campaign!

What weight has legacy, what strength has a name, in an era when the stars themselves bend to the will of man, when the gods have been forgotten?

The valley of the elves between Night and the Waterfalls

The Wizards of the Guild have found the remains of the legendary dragon Alturgerax, but they're not sharing!

His eyesight isn't what it was, but he's still got a brilliant way with calfskin.

Age is a terrible weight

A den of mercenaries, murderers, bounty hunters and thieves...

'Seizing this one was far easier then I expected,' thought Yuther the devil, ' he puts up no fight!

Few have ever seen the incomprehensible entities known as Trench Dwellers, but their lethal biomechanical machines remain, guardians of a long-forgotten empire.

A mysterious quarry. Feel free to suggest explanations - it's just an eerie thought that struck me that I intend to play with.

They are two sides of the same coin-either one will kill you, they'll just think about it differently.

I don't know if I posted about it before, but I have always wanted to run an adventure set in a library. The following is a sketch of an unusual premise and a possible plot-hook.

In the dawning of time, a mighty civilization, mystical and alien, flourished in the oceanâ??s unseen depths. Their day has passed, but their hidden metropoli linger on.

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.

A misunderstood and much maligned race, goblinoids are a much more complex and sophisticated people than any human has ever given them credit for.

'When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,'

-Shakespeares 29th Sonnet.

Masters of the sea, men of courage and honor, these you will find here and none other.

Legends even to the merfolk, the reclusive Trench Dwellers are a race alien and strange beyond human reckoning.