“The last thing we ever saw was its inky tail as it swept under the door. I fear the scions of Durnthar have taken yet another piece of us.” - Gould Maran, Keeper of the Throne Seal
Skeletons are weak. The armies of darkness made them into something much more suitable.
A set of laws that could be used for any feudal fantasy kingdom. Throw it into a library or a courthouse if you want!
Have you ever been confused by the mess of rules and philosophies concerning death and the undead? Here’s an attempt to lay down a set of rules to end all confusion.
Upon the fourth night of Winterkiss, a lord of the land was visited by four Magi.
This tavern is the place-to-be establishment of Shorenar Vas, a bustling riverside trade town of Veldea. Each night the tavern packs full of practically every man with a heavy pocket and a round stomach in the town. Should you be in the area, there’s no place better for some good slop and a quick flop than the Golden Frog.
A closed fist and an open palm can solve all problems, at least according to the Jack of Irons. If you walk into this tavern, you might just receive both.
Although the stink and slime of the swamp is not the perfect habitat for dry plants, within forests of the Mura Katur can be found a respectable variety of lichens, mosses, and ground covers.
From the Black Marsh to the Glowing Swamps of Luminiall, the Mura Katur is home to a great abundance of funghi. Enclosed is a sampling of the many species found in its dank mires and soaked forests.
Which is worse - a foolish mage or a drunken wizard? When halfmage Rolan Haraweir settled down to found a tavern in the Jewel City, this question became the basis for its name. The answer is still hotly debated over steaming mugs of spice-wine to this day.
In the far reaches of a long-lost wilderness, there stands a forgotten town inhabited only by children. Though they appear normal enough, their eyes burn with madness, and they speak in a foreign, archaic tongue. Nearly a millenia ago, a powerful spell had gone awry, or maybe it had succeeded - in any case, it ended up blessing, or cursing, an entire generation of children with agelessness. However, as the centuries passed, the children's parents grew old and died, the buildings of the town crumbled to earth, and even the civilization itself faded into history, becoming lost to time. All that remained were the children, driven mad by the psychological toll of living for hundreds of years beyond their age. In time, most children died, killed off by fighting amongst themselves, while many others were driven to suicide. Only a small handful remain, and they are a strange people indeed.