Is not disease the rule of existence? There is not a lily pad floating on the river but has been riddled by insects? -Henry David Thoreau

The Voyeur's Wand was made by a jealous student of magic who had never had a girlfriend and was envious of those who were part of a loving couple, and wanted to embarass those who were.

PCs are hired to assassinate a local Count. Designed as the opening mission of a war-based campaign.

“Nobody will laugh long who deals much with opium: its pleasures even are of a grave and solemn complexion.” -Thomas De Quincey

“Behold me the greatest traveler in history, eccentric, irregular, rapid, unaccountable, curious and, without vanity; majestic as a comet.” -John Ledyard

Treasured texts of the infamous Doctor Alcomb.

The Deathstick is a potent weapon, but it may well do more damage to it's user then the target, as it has not been perfected by it's creators yet.

A mysterious legacy of a hard-working and much-loved mariner and welder.

A Group of Mercenaries that is almost completely composed of lizard folk

'Attention, Flesh-beings! The time is now Sun-High-point-five, towards dark, 180 Units Past. Curfew in 30 Units. You are welcome.'

Something flashes beneath the waves, a hint of green scales surfaces. A rainbow colored crest breaks the waters surface followed by a huge beast.

Created for a freedom fighter situation where a group's purpose is to liberate provinces or citizens, or to simply escape to regroup later.

Driven by the need to keep his descendants fed, Daniel Andersson is one of the more peculiar undead - and gods - one might ever come across.

They had laughed at him in the past, and the press nicknamed him the Admiral, but when the global temperature rose by five degrees, and the waves swept in and drowned the cities, it was his turn to laugh.

Circle help me, I ran like a little girl…

Picture the wildest rodeo you've ever seen. Now picture it half a mile above the earth.

Castle Merciless. Home of He who dwells in nightmares.

Just off the craggy cliffs of Corundum, under the rippling blue ocean waves, seven stones stand. They rise majestically from the ocean floor, references to some long ago civilization. Meaningless, now, to all but the most learned.

Tucked back in the corner of Kiskedee square, off of Aasvogel, is the Hornless Goat. The tavern is as non-descript and plain as any business can be and still maintain itself in passable fashion. No one notices the patrons of that small overlooked place.