“ On route from Geli to Nekrass the characters meet a peasant boy on the road. He's wandering in the direction from which they've just come. If this seems a little bit incongruous, they may wish to ask him a few questions. He's perfectly willing to talk: he's called Lamish and he's run away because he knows he is the heir to the throne of Geli and his parents didn't believe him. How far is his home? About five weeks walk from here. How much has he eaten? Nothing. Has he drunk? Only from the filthy roadside ditches. In short, it's a wonder he is still alive. And yet he seems perfectly healthy.
Is he a thief, waiting for travellers to trick? Is he lying because there's something more sinister under all of this? Is he telling the truth? And anyway, what should the characters do? Do you take him to Geli? Do you try to find his parents? Or leave him to make his own way?”
“ This tome looks like a haphazard collection of random notes on different types of paper stitched together and bound within a wooden cover. The pages describe all of the 300,000 gods of the world, each in the language of the people who worship them. The book is stored high in the mountains, kept safe by an order of monks. Reading the entire book confers a deep understanding on the nature of the cosmos and access to incredible power. This only works, however, if it is read without translation, meaning that the reader must master each language contained within. The various monks know these languages but there is typically only one alive at a time who knows them all. This monk would be an excellent source of information and/or magic. IF the PCs learn about it; IF they can find the monastery; IF they can convince the monks to help them; AND if they can understand the convoluted riddle given as an answer.”
“ AutoMedon A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
'It's strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its' workings or even if the damn thing is' Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman”