The Sovereign's Finest are sent into the dark depths of the Veran Marsh & the heart of the criminal underworld to recover a valuable arcane artifact before it falls into the wrong hands.
Description:
A coded message falls into the hands of the crown, offering the Sovereign's Finest the opportunity to infiltrate a secret "night market" trading in illicit - and often dangerous - goods and artifacts. The heroes venture into the murky depths of the Veran Marsh to find this criminal haven, posing as interested buyers, looking to prevent the most dangerous wares from falling into the wrong hands.
As art students in 1890s Paris, you're used to suffering the after-effects of epic nights on absinthe. But hazy memory tells you that last night, something unearthly happened. Something dreadful.
Description:
As art students in 1890s Paris, waking up in on the floor of your garret, suffering the after-effects of epic absinthe overindulgence is less remarkable than you’d care to admit. Last night you attended your art school’s annual costume ball, a legendary bacchanal so wild that riots sometimes result. But hazy memory tells you that something else happened…something unearthly. Something dreadful. If only you could remember what it was…
As art students in 1890s Paris, you're used to suffering the after-effects of epic nights on absinthe. But hazy memory tells you that last night, something unearthly happened. Something dreadful.
Description:
As art students in 1890s Paris, waking up in on the floor of your garret, suffering the after-effects of epic absinthe overindulgence is less remarkable than you’d care to admit. Last night you attended your art school’s annual costume ball, a legendary bacchanal so wild that riots sometimes result. But hazy memory tells you that something else happened…something unearthly. Something dreadful. If only you could remember what it was…
As art students in 1890s Paris, you're used to suffering the after-effects of epic nights on absinthe. But hazy memory tells you that last night, something unearthly happened. Something dreadful.
Description:
As art students in 1890s Paris, waking up in on the floor of your garret, suffering the after-effects of epic absinthe overindulgence is less remarkable than you’d care to admit. Last night you attended your art school’s annual costume ball, a legendary bacchanal so wild that riots sometimes result. But hazy memory tells you that something else happened…something unearthly. Something dreadful. If only you could remember what it was…
As art students in 1890s Paris, you're used to suffering the after-effects of epic nights on absinthe. But hazy memory tells you that last night, something unearthly happened. Something dreadful.
Description:
As art students in 1890s Paris, waking up in on the floor of your garret, suffering the after-effects of epic absinthe overindulgence is less remarkable than you’d care to admit. Last night you attended your art school’s annual costume ball, a legendary bacchanal so wild that riots sometimes result. But hazy memory tells you that something else happened…something unearthly. Something dreadful. If only you could remember what it was…
As art students in 1890s Paris, you're used to suffering the after-effects of epic nights on absinthe. But hazy memory tells you that last night, something unearthly happened. Something dreadful.
Description:
As art students in 1890s Paris, waking up in on the floor of your garret, suffering the after-effects of epic absinthe overindulgence is less remarkable than you’d care to admit. Last night you attended your art school’s annual costume ball, a legendary bacchanal so wild that riots sometimes result. But hazy memory tells you that something else happened…something unearthly. Something dreadful. If only you could remember what it was…
As art students in 1890s Paris, you're used to suffering the after-effects of epic nights on absinthe. But hazy memory tells you that last night, something unearthly happened. Something dreadful.
Description:
As art students in 1890s Paris, waking up in on the floor of your garret, suffering the after-effects of epic absinthe overindulgence is less remarkable than you’d care to admit. Last night you attended your art school’s annual costume ball, a legendary bacchanal so wild that riots sometimes result. But hazy memory tells you that something else happened…something unearthly. Something dreadful. If only you could remember what it was…
A Deadlands Noir adventure. When an old buddy of some New Orleans detectives calls in a favor, the gumshoes run into an old case - that just won't stay buried.
A standalone adventure set in the North after the Red Wedding in the time period spanning A Feast For Crows & A Dance with Dragons. You play members of House Cailin.
Description:
This is a standalone adventure set in the North after the Red Wedding during the time period spanning A Feast For Crows and A Dance with Dragons. Players will take the roles of members of House Cailin, a Northern House sworn to House Stark. Politically savvy but fiercely loyal to Winterfell, Lord Cailin finds his House in tragedy and disfavor following the Red Wedding, but its scions have not forgotten their oaths or the losses they suffered to the treachery of the Boltons and the Freys.
"I would sooner my men die fighting for Ned's little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. No one sings songs of men who die like that. As for me, I am old. This will be my last winter. Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die. I want to feel it spatter across my face when my axe bites deep into a Bolton skull." - Hugo Wull
A standalone adventure set in the North after the Red Wedding in the time period spanning A Feast For Crows & A Dance with Dragons. You play members of House Cailin.
Description:
This is a standalone adventure set in the North after the Red Wedding during the time period spanning A Feast For Crows and A Dance with Dragons. Players will take the roles of members of House Cailin, a Northern House sworn to House Stark. Politically savvy but fiercely loyal to Winterfell, Lord Cailin finds his House in tragedy and disfavor following the Red Wedding, but its scions have not forgotten their oaths or the losses they suffered to the treachery of the Boltons and the Freys.
"I would sooner my men die fighting for Ned's little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. No one sings songs of men who die like that. As for me, I am old. This will be my last winter. Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die. I want to feel it spatter across my face when my axe bites deep into a Bolton skull." - Hugo Wull