dungeon

The scars on Elbion are still fresh. The corpses of the grotesque beasts that appeared still remained. The dead and wounded are still being counted. The lake still seemed to be poisoned by some miasma emanating from the sunken body of the dragon. The earthquakes that occurred not only shattered...

"Are you sure you still want to do this?" asked Captain Bronmarch of the Allirian Guard. "I have to try," Heike said. "I owe it to my people. To Ferelith. To Maria. To King Rommel. To my father Albrecht and my mother Sieglinde. I owe it to all of them." And she said again, "I have to try." *...

"I take it you heard of the contract from one of the barkeeps?" the man asked. "Yes." A lie. It tasted foul in Mischa's mouth. It was not the Orcish way. A saying from her tribe, the Dm'rohk, translated into Common: Speak plainly, speak the truth. And she had not spoken the truth. And, as it...

That Which Makes Pure has directed Mischa Ven'rohk to Vel Anir for a reason. It is here she may find the Key. The Key to unlock the Vault. And what lies within. The premise: It seems a normal mercenary sort of job one might find in a tavern, if vague. The man isn't a noble, but works for one...