If you follow this advice you will be able to get the best out of this site that it can offer you and you might make some new friends too.

Some sovereigns prefer a different sort of tax from their subjects - whether freely given, or taken by force.

Not only the weapon needs to be special or magical...

A man-made bridge between two tall hills that began as a wonder to an ancient empire and now is turned into the final stand of a desperate kingdom.

The Truth Mage, Veracit, feared to utilize the Observer's Paradox, uncomfortable with their perilous effect on reality.

When a thousand years of dust settled upon the worked stone floor of The Grey Tomb, a new sage was born. A creature, of dust, time, age, wisdom. The dust that was once the bodies of ancient wise men. It coalesced and swirled into being, small and wispy, dry as its home. It mutters words of wisdom for no one to hear. Begging its dark home for a soul to learn from.

The Blood Beast, while originally a construct, has surpassed its beginnings to assume a place of infamy.

"This sword! It's helping me connect all the dots!"

"Yeah, even the dots that don't exist!"

Three cities that come and go, yet never see the shining sun.

A Five Room Dungeon about finding the Imperial city of The Lost Empire.

Despite becoming the god of creation later in life, Corran was renowned as being a master craftsman first, and possibly the worst cook to ever live second. This cooking set changed all that.

Blood. Ah, yes. Blood. Such a wonderful tool when you know how to use it. Welcome, my friend, to the wonderful world of Blood Magic.

The Elders say there was once a great kingdom here. Yes, in this field of cattle, void of rubble or debris. Now, there are just a few fences and a barn for the bovine herd. At the most, you'll find some fresh dung. No treasures or artifacts of bygone ages here. What fate could have befallen such a place, as to leave no trace? Come closer, and I will show you...

The Imperial city has been sucked into hell and the rest of the world has been ripped apart. And tying it all together is the Crystal Tower. The Tower lives in all realms, a needle piercing the fabric of each reality and threading them all together.

The King has an issue about the ale that is extremely popular in his nation...

A silent vestige sits among the vine covered ruins in a forest that has overgrown who once lived here. No more towers rise among the skeletal remains of a seeming once vast city. Instead, carved into the face of a leveled statue of a man, peaceful in his dead slumber now are etched the words - Si vis pacem para bellum – If you want peace, prepare for war.

High above the lands of the living, where frost and howling of the wind reign, the morbid monument to a faith long dead calls the deceased on a last pilgrimage.

To look at her she's five years old, and to her anger, she has been stuck at the age of five for the last forty-six years, unable to rule as Queen and doomed to a life of doll houses, dolls and cute girly toys and clothes, even though her mind is that of an adult woman.

Knock Knock!

Who's there?

Hold on, this punchline will make more sense behind an actual door.

{This item is silly}

What lies under the turf deep in the earth of that grassy mound? The PCs would very much like to know...