To be touched by a God is to be drawn from this world, and into another.
Love. Hate. Lust. Pride. Greed. Many are the emotions that can inflame the human heart, and of the brightest and strongest of all of these is born, Atarkhul Prince of Passion.
An ancient weapon, forged by the First Ones, the terrible power of Order's Reach is as much a consequence of the nature of reality as it is blessed by the Divine.
Zombies make horrible dinner guest. Trying to eat the brains of the host tends to ruin things.
Well, now you can tell them to fork off with this handy little item.
God of Strength in the Night, Hiding your Numbers, and The Silent Kill.
A contract Made before Durmenthir is a contract kept.
In these gloves was placed a seed of the power used to create the world.
The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...