Random Encounters Maps

Hook: Stonefrost Vale... You have heard the name, as it's been on the tongues of most rumour mongers, as of late... Something happened there. An unsual mist crept in overnight and those who didn't escape were claimed by it (a few outlying farmers and woodsmen). The first signs were fleeing wildlife, which led to bad hunting. The survivors of the village didn't stick around long enough to discover what the mist did, but, those who didn't make it had begun to act strangely, despondent, then vanished, mysteriously after a few days... They figured the arrival of the cloud had something to do with the unwelcome visitor who settled the high mountain valley south of Frosthearth a few years ago. He hadn't done anything, initially, so they left him to his strange business... After fleeing, the whole village relocated to the nearest settlements, moved in with family and friends, if they had any. Some moved into the free woods to the north, and lived off the land. The lord an...

Hook:  Your horses descend the dry, rocky path to the rushing stream. The ford is there, below you, a dark smear in the otherwise crystalline watercourse, the sandstone cleft lies just beyond it... Your horses begin to fight you and resist the careful path you're taking. Why? You look around you, and finally eye the shadowed cleft... Nothing stirs. The warm evening air is silent, still, save for the swiftly running stream that laughs through the dusty terrain, as if mocking the near-arid world around you. The horses become more and more agitated, but, you see nothing... Continuing forward, the first horse to touch the water and the loose, dark stones beneath the surface of the water passes without incident... splashing lightly to the other side of the course. Then another, and then another. Your own horse makes it, as well... Your eyes are glued to the rocks around you, and you sweep the cleft, regularly, to root out hidden agendas in the darkness, there. Two more to go... Your pri...

  Hook:  The basin spreads out before you, bathed in morning light as you exit the narrow canyon. A sparkling tarn laughs in the sunlight beneath you. Your world is confined to the basin. The Sage's Mount looms up ahead, a lone monolith of imposing limestone crags leading to a massive, rime-covered peak turned gold by the rising sun. Mist clings to the lake in lazy drifting tendrils. The isle on the other side of the tarn is a forest-choked exile. A finger of jagged stone emerges from its trees like a knife point. That's where the shrine lay... No cloud in the sky... You squint hard under your raised hand at the imposing visage of The Sage ahead of you. Looking down, again, to the water, and the proud evergreens clustered in loose packs around the pebble- and rock-strewn landscape, you're surprised by the sudden comfort of your sword's pommel pressing firmly into your palm... You know yourself... Something is amiss. The trees nearest you are dark, thick growth... A dist...

  Hook:  The trundling carts of passersby irritate you, today. The rain's been bad, the tracks are flooded, and the road is narrow. You sidestep many wheeled vehicles - most one-horse-drawn - on this throughway between towns. You'd heard there might be a dealer in the underground market, there, who might have what you need to satisfy the old wizard's request before he helps resurrect your friend... Chances were already slim you'll get back in time, and you know the laws there are strict... To save time, you took a trail the locals said was dangerous this time of yea- Busy with these thoughts this foggy, wet, and miserable spring day, you aren't prepared for the violence with which you are wrenched from your feet, backward, into the sludge inside the ditch along the roadside. Your companions shout in alarm and you hear the hiss of swiftly drawn steel from several of them and the sharp twang of arrow fire, all muffled as you struggle to right yourself and pull your he...

  Hook: 50 years ago, a cult started up in the area you're visiting. The small village's elders remember it without fondness. It came, the priest gathered some of the locals, taking them away from their crafts and farms, and disappeared into the hills the main road circles around to avoid the difficult terrain and river and a deep, bandit-infested forest north of the hills. No one really knew what the cult was about. They were secretive, when they'd come to buy supplies. 5 years after the cult began, the cultists simply stopped showing up... No one saw them, again... About 10 years ago, a goatherd discovered a cleft in the limestone through the saddle of two hills. He chased his goat through the opening and inadvertently discovered a shortcut that, though not big enough for caravans and horses, was a good shortcut for foot and drover traffic through the area. Without a horse, the main road is long. The cleft bypasses the dangers of the woods, the inconvenient river, and the...

Hook: The Lady of Light, known as  Ilumiŵra to the Caliborians, Lumenorians, Eversora to the Strixians, and Gŵarda to the old Taryŵnish, is a goddess not just of light, but, of prophecy, too... The Lumenorians brought with them their oracles when they fled Strixia, and their traditions still exist today as Caliborians and Lumenorians continue them. The oracles live in caves, often by the sea or other bodies of water located near larger settlements. Citizens and leaders alike seek their advice. One such cave, located deep in a pocket of wilderness near a large town, has lost its oracle. Goblins, troglodytes, have killed her and taken up residence in her sanctuary. It is fairly common knowledge, now. The caves are located deep in the wood, far enough away from the walls of the town and most think it better to let a new oracle surface rather than cleanse the site. There is, in most places where drinks can be shared, and rests taken, rumours about a reward for any who can kill the trog...

  Hook: The seaside plain stretches for miles and miles, in all directions... Pleasant ocean wind rushes through the unobstructed expanse... sighing and washing over everything like gentle surf... Eventually, you see something in the distance. A dark smudge on the horizon... The pleasant day passes pleasantly as you make your way toward it. You busy yourself keeping eyes out for smoke or other signs of life. It's not long before you find a sprawling ruin in the grass... You stood for a time at a carved, ruined gate made of sandstone crumbled almost to nothing resembling their former grandeur, but, still high enough not to see over, marvelling at the spectacle, wondering about its people... This was old Mezokian culture... Small and strong, cooing, rock-coloured birds half the size of chickens watch you from all the highest places they can reach. The ruins are covered with their waste... Moving on, you soon find yourself among low walls worn smooth by relentless plainswind seeking u...

Hook: Far out on the edges of Stone Lake in the Misty Forest lay the black edifice of Stonewulf Keep. You've heard about it... But, no one likes to speak of its resident. The say he is a warlord of exceptional skill. That his sword howls when he fights. And his eyes glow crimson under a helm of black steel shaped into the visage of a fierce wolf. He is the local ruler, Lord Were. They say he haunts the moors and hills of his small land in the guise of a large, black dog, or wolf, and that he feeds on the undeserving and black of heart. But, no one takes any chances and lock up tight their windows and doors when the night falls. His men are ruthless, dressed in black armour, with wolf-crested helms, a black wolf standard upon their banners and shields and tunics... It is The Wilderness, and many things can live there without contention or question. Lord Were and his people keep to themselves. He runs a land of brutal justice, but, no one says anything, because the wolf lord and his ...

Hook: Far out on the edges of Stone Lake in the Misty Forest lay the black edifice of Stonewulf Keep. You've heard about it... But, no one likes to speak of its resident. The say he is a warlord of exceptional skill. That his sword howls when he fights. And his eyes glow crimson under a helm of black steel shaped into the visage of a fierce wolf. He is the local ruler, Lord Were. They say he haunts the moors and hills of his small land in the guise of a large, black dog, or wolf, and that he feeds on the undeserving and black of heart. But, no one takes any chances and lock up tight their windows and doors when the night falls. His men are ruthless, dressed in black armour, with wolf-crested helms, a black wolf standard upon their banners and shields and tunics... It is The Wilderness, and many things can live there without contention or question. Lord Were and his people keep to themselves. He runs a land of brutal justice, but, no one says anything, because the wolf lord and his ...

  Hook: Far out on the edges of Stone Lake in the Misty Forest lay the black edifice of Stonewulf Keep. You've heard about it... But, no one likes to speak of its resident. The say he is a warlord of exceptional skill. That his sword howls when he fights. And his eyes glow crimson under a helm of black steel shaped into the visage of a fierce wolf. He is the local ruler, Lord Were. They say he haunts the moors and hills of his small land in the guise of a large, black dog, or wolf, and that he feeds on the undeserving and black of heart. But, no one takes any chances and lock up tight their windows and doors when the night falls. His men are ruthless, dressed in black armour, with wolf-crested helms, a black wolf standard upon their banners and shields and tunics... It is The Wilderness, and many things can live there without contention or question. Lord Were and his people keep to themselves. He runs a land of brutal justice, but, no one says anything, because the wolf lord and hi...

  Hook: Far out on the edges of Stone Lake in the Misty Forest lay the black edifice of Stonewulf Keep. You've heard about it... But, no one likes to speak of its resident. The say he is a warlord of exceptional skill. That his sword howls when he fights. And his eyes glow crimson under a helm of black steel shaped into the visage of a fierce wolf. He is the local ruler, Lord Were. They say he haunts the moors and hills of his small land in the guise of a large, black dog, or wolf, and that he feeds on the undeserving and black of heart. But, no one takes any chances and lock up tight their windows and doors when the night falls. His men are ruthless, dressed in black armour, with wolf-crested helms, a black wolf standard upon their banners and shields and tunics... It is The Wilderness, and many things can live there without contention or question. Lord Were and his people keep to themselves. He runs a land of brutal justice, but, no one says anything, because the wolf lord and hi...

Hook: The shadow of the mountain engulfs the whole of the path and far out over the icy river threading its way along the ravine... It's cold, late fall... You gather your cloaks and garments about you, rub your hands and faces and legs to further warm you up... The thin trail meanders along the rock face, but, quite abruptly, opens to the left where a water source from somewhere inside the yawning dark meets the river... A narrow stone bridge ahead of you crosses a break in the path in front of the cave mouth. A splashing sound can be heard inside. Likely a waterfall... You draw up a hand to warn the others back, and approach with one of your retainers... The old man looks about, guardedly. No attack can come from behind, or from the river side, which he indicates to you in the way he moves and positions himself behind you... But, something has your hackles raised. His, too... You don't even look at one another. Both of you know what to do... He has your back covered, and you ...

Hook: You stand before an odd sight... Stairs... carved from the limestone, itself, lead up from the forest floor to a strange entry. A larger-than-life marble statue depicting a man in skin-tight clothing, equipped with the most unusual gear, including what looks like a crossbow without the bow attachment sitting in a quiver at his hip, looks out, pensively, over the forested hollow you just passed through. He stands on a plinth to your left, at the top of the stairway. He resembles, in style, the statues you saw, earlier, flanking another set of stairs, but, those were much larger, also marble, and depicted a strange kind of lizard monster with wings folded at thier sides, sitting cat-like on their haunches staring impassively out at the lower valley. You mount the steps and find yourself under a shelf of rock sheltering an entry that is not stone, nor wood, but, some kind of metal. Its surface is silvery and unmarred and warm to the touch. The ground at your feet is bare stone... No...