“ The Pcs discover an ancient, dusty oil lamp, somewhere in the bowels of a dungeon. Naturally they 'rub it', and out pops a wizened, old djinn. So far so good. Then it speaks...
'Ah at last, at last I am free! Now grant me my wish!'
When the PCs explain that they are the ones that should be granted a wish, the malignant djinn explains to them that his particular oil-lamp has a curse placed upon it. Whomsoever releases the entity inside shall be geased to grant the djinn's wish to the best of their ability.
Groans ensue from the party. The djinn rubs his wrinkled hands, grins, and proceeds to name his wish. What could it be?”
“ Half hour off the Harrow Road you find it, Fool's Grave. Amid an overgrown garden sits a single tombstone. Carved neatly into the weathered slab is the word 'Fool,' with a symbol underneath matching the signet ring you found.”
“ A group of Mages sought to create an Elixir of Fertility, to deal with the Curse of the Empty Cradle. After acquiring such things as the 'ahem' vigor of a war deity, and the 'ahem' blessing of a forest goddess, the mages almost created the cure. Instead, the vessel of Divine Virility was spilled, and instead of curing sterility, infused the ancient hill with life. The temple and alter rose, becoming a demonic force of life essence and the fecundity of nature.”