The Prophet John's life and, indeed, death was a mystery. Some say that the gods placed him on this earth for his purpose without a past, and others, a rare few, claim that he was a god himself.

With many legends and myths attributed to it, the Shield of St. John was wielded by the Prophet and bears the curse of fame for bearing holy magic. However, the only benefit the Shield could bestow upon the wielder is psychological.

The birth and life of a god through the long ages.

A demon unleashed... to make the world a better place.

Those of the bare chin, the clan of the wolverine, they who walked away from the mountain.

Jacob Latris was a Taurian immigrant to Obstaria. Now he is a man who has severed his connections to sanity long ago, and is searching for something that probably doesn't exist.

The three sacred relics of Ahkti.

You find a dusty violin on a stand in the next room. Through the grime of the years, you can tell that it is of excellent make. Perhaps someone can put it to good use? An instrument is meant to be played, after all...

Aging Queen Seeking Her Successor

In the place where Atheus lies, there are three separate planes, three realms for the intrepid to explore. One of these is Congeria, land of the demons. The home of darkness, the mount of Chaos, Evil's Playpen, all of these are names drawn up by the Atheian peoples.

As is the norm for cases such as these, they could not be further from the truth.

Honor is in the Eye of the Beholder

Hailing from a long line of brewers, Stout has given up the life of the beer-maker for the life of the Adventurer-Upon-Return

An ornate reliquary box, covered in fine metalwork that twists the eye and causes headaches.

The sound was most troublesome. Long have I been prisoner to Kormack and his evil designs, and the torturous sounds my heart has been cursed to endure has left me cold inside. I endure and ignore. Cold to the pain and the suffering of poor souls around me. Their Fate forsworn as soon as they enter His lair. But this, this atrocity has pierced my now icebound heart and cracked deep into my very soul. The children... The mewling babes that know nothing of their future, nothing of the joys of life. Innocent of horrors of the world and the dread future it holds. How short that future is. I can not get the sound of the mewling infants from my mind, it is seared into memory as a brand on an animals flank forever to remain. Some have even laughed right up till the end and nothing is more damaging to ones sanity than a broken childs laugh.

Master Blacksmith Heaf Astes

UAC Scientists have discovered a strange artifact on the surface of Phobos. They wish to transport it to an 'off-the-radar' base above Saturn's moon, Titan, but fear that space pirates may have gained intel on the artifact. Additional protection is needed; this is where you come in!

A Cosmic Era, Event Horizon/Doom-influenced Plot, for the optional Occult Brotherhood quest.

Sometimes what begins as a Fairy Tale can end in misery. The tale of Celsia Frostblossom is testament to this.

How does a culture measure time underground, without any sun? The dwarves have got it covered.

Mora stepped up to the wicked-looking pipe-organ; the carved demonic head which it was made from leered silently at him. Sweating with anxiety, Mora looked back to his friends before swallowing hard and shakily bringing his fingers to the ivory.

Mora pressed the keys down into several minor chords, and a thunderous peal of music echoed, sounding mockingly similar to a church. Suddenly, the eyes of the carved head lit up with fire, and with a *WHOOSH* a pillar of flames burst into life around Mora. The man's screams were cut short after just a second and the fire disappeared just as quickly. Mora was gone.

After a moment of shocked silence, Mora's friends cheered excitedly.