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Random hooks thread 
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Evil Genius
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Post Re: Random hooks thread


"They say every man has a price. I for one agree wholeheartedly with this principle, however most fail to understand that the currency with which one pays may not be one made of coins and other such symbolic representations of one's value. Indeed, the clever trader knows to barter with the intangible as much as the tangible."

Swindler, snake oil peddler, heartless miser, entrepreneur, and countless other epithets have been attributed to him, yet Cuthbert prefers the term "trader".

He deals in trades, pure and simple. Whatever a man's heart wishes he claims he can provide. No magic, no tricks. Contracts, of course, will be signed - it's a matter of principle and protection.

Tales of demons and devils penning deals with mortals may come to mind, yet Cuthbert isn't even the least bit interested in the arcane beyond the potential value one may put in such objects.

Here is a man who became powerful through his obsession with trading and understanding of the finer points of human transactions.

Cuthbert is smart enough to know that one doesn't trade with a man who is able to pay for his end of the deal. No, one is better to find a man who truly has a need for something and accept a potential future payment... with heavy interests.

When will the man pay? In due time. Contracts are signed and he expects them to be respected. He has agents, of course, men who have few options in life outside acting as strong arms.

They rarely collect on the debt, many barely get paid for their work, but they too in turn expect greater rewards in some distant future.

The turnover rate is rather impressive as some men are rather dangerous when cornered and even the most intimidating brute can be felled by such a man. Somehow Cuthbert never found it particularly difficult to replace his staff.

Here again is a man whose greatest fortune is merely ink on paper, words exchanged in a dimly lit room, and the dreams of a fortune that may never come.

Here, I say, is a man who has understood how simple minded these said merchants are, accepting payment in coins for goods and services. Always slaves to the present with no eye for the future.

He transcended coins and now exists to collect potential wealth, sowing misery as he does.


Thu Sep 10, 2015 12:44 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
More or less just a short one to go with an earlier one posted somewhere earlier. A few Falkovnian vampyres enter Forlorn (perhaps chased by some kind of vampire hunter- Jander Sunstar, perhaps?) The vampyres either pray upon or just get provoked in fights with the quarrelsome goblyns, which tips off Tristen ApBlanc to their presence. As some of the vampyres near the castle, ApBlanc has them captured. Then he learns this is more of his kind. Interest piqued, he ultimately hopes to find some kind remedy for his situation among them (or perhaps achieve some kind of family or at least subjects that are more bearable than goblyns).

The problem is that his reach beyond the domain is very limited- especially some place as far away as Falkovnia. His goblyns aren't exactly known for subtlety either. So to see how he might adapt for the first time to accomplish a goal beyond his borders might be interesting.


Thu Sep 10, 2015 4:12 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Let us begin the process of exhuming the dead and breathing life into their forgotten remains!

Finding a Good Man

Of Lamordia's intellectual elite one is likely to find many more men and than women. If one were to ask Dr.Jorgensen then it is painfully obvious to all but the most stubborn that women have little place in the world of men. Dr.Jorgensen should know, she's a woman after all.

"Men would have you believe that a woman's mind is too fragile for the pursuit of science. I for one agree with the sentiment but would that it is not their mind as much as their bodies which prevent them from achieving the singular mindset needed to approach the sciences.

A woman's mind is, in its primal form, not unlike that of men but will be shaped through the years by their body's unfortunate weakness and a lifelong longing for the strength of the male. The emotional outbursts that characterize women are a result of their body's various temperamental ways. Only those women who devote themselves to the culture of the masculine way can hope to adopt, even briefly, what one could truly call a proper scientific mind."

Jorgensen' work is largely based off of her late husband's studies and she fully concedes that she would have never been able to contribute as she has without his meticulous notes and dutiful explanations.

Jorgensen is arguably much more notable than her husband which she feels is unjust. For all he praise, the man was largely ignored during his lifetime while many of his peers have enjoyed considerable notoriety over the years. His wife's attempts at bringing his name some manner of recognition have so far proved fruitless as she attracts most of the attention.

So invisible was the man that his wedding and death both went largely unnoticed by his own family. His wife herself is a bit of an enigma: a brilliant mind with few records of academic attendance and scientific endeavours prior to her husband's death.

Cynics claim Jorgensen was merely plagiarizing his wife's work; dutiful wife that she is, she hid her husband's little tricks and erased her past to avoid overshadowing him. Indeed, what a woman to have by one's side! Her eternal servitude to her husband is to be admired, but the man's refusal to share his wife's mind with the world is certainly in keeping with his obvious insecurities.

The current Dr.Jorgensen refuses to give any attention to those rumours, insisting instead that her husband was ignored out of fear and jealousy. Clearly these men who had overlooked his work in the past were possibly the kind who spend too much time in the company of women. The corrupting influence of women is such that their bodies can pollute those of men who lay with them too often. Many a great mind has been soiled by the perverse gender.

Jorgensen remembers the first harpy he met. The boy was handsome and boasted a healthy smile that won the hearts of many local girls. Jorgensen knew the boy's secret though. A secret meeting under gently falling snow, both a little warm from the cider they had drunk perhaps but the boy's lips didn't lie.

She was a loud, obnoxious witch. She'd dance with boys and play games better left to roguish men in seedy establishments. She was popular with the male students and proved more than a match thanks to her wicked tongue. Jorgensen wanted to slice her open and pull out the tiny little demons working inside that shell. She was no woman but a fleshy bag covering up tiny and clever fiends. He imagined the small creatures operating oddly organic levers and pulleys, cogs and wheels, with one providing a voice to the girl.

When she set her eyes on the boy, Jorgensen had enough and made his suspicions clear to all who would listen. His peers merely laughed, thinking him drunk and jealous that she would prefer the handsome boy with the clear eyes to the terribly average Jorgensen.

He asked the boy what he thought. Was she pretty? Did he want to lay with her as he did with him? How could he be so twisted as to enjoy such a thing? The boy smiled and kissed his forehead reassuringly, almost patronizing him with his silence. Jorgensen loved him, but...

It took many years. Long hard years but Jorgensen quietly rose from his status as apprentice. Then nothing.

The boy was now a man, still handsome, perhaps even more. Jorgensen spent almost as much of his time cultivating his body as he did in the lab. His work claimed that the body, specifically the male one, and its constitution directly impacted the importance of one's intellectual abilities. He would practice what he preached, although perhaps he thought he could offer something more to his lover in hopes of never losing him.

Their affair would span a few decades with Jorgensen purposefully ignoring his lover's obvious indiscretion. The man would sometimes tease Jorgensen, hinting that he had been with others, that he could leave him if the latter didn't suit him anymore.

Jorgensen didn't mind, except for the look his lover gave to women. The man would tell him it was all to keep up appearances - their love was not yet understood by the more superstitious folks. Jorgensen begrudgingly accepted the excuse although he never truly believed any of it.

Then the witch came back. The years had been too kind to her and he could practically smell the brimstone emanating from her not to mention the snickering of demons inside of her flesh. He could rip her open with his bare hands and strangle all the demons one after the other.

That night it was all set, he would confront the beast and end its tyranny once and for all! An invitation was made, and with her clearly taking the role of a whore such a thing would be second nature to her. He entered the building with only the creature knowing as she was the one to let him inside. They crept up the stairs and behind locked doors "Yuri", she said softly "may I confess? You are no man of the cloth, that I know, yet I would like to be on my knees and offer my confessions if you would hear them."

Jorgensen was no fool, women are able liars. He told him, he told his lover that women could never be trusted. Men are strong but the polluting influence of women weaken their minds. She was the Queen of all weakness, not even a woman but an assembly of filth made flesh.

"He was always there... but... it was you I liked. I tried to make you pay attention, but you wouldn't play like the other boys. Always too serious, always distant. I wanted to know you. I liked your eyes." The beautiful woman gave him a knowing smile that seemed so innocent.

"Filth... filth... filth!" thought Jorgensen.

"I know a secret or two... Don't worry, I can keep it...", she would whisper as a figure emerged from the shadows.

"We can share, Yuri. This could make a lot of things simpler for us."

Jorgensen's lover stood there, one hand on his shoulder and the other caressing the woman's hair.

The morning after, Jorgensen left quietly. Having finally crushed all the devils inside and leaving an empty husk, the doctor kept a final memento from his lover. A symbol of sorts, certainly not a trophy.

Jorgensen would spend a few years in limbo with no research papers or pontificating study. His wife, whom no one had met, would break the news of her husband's demise following an altercation with a drunken, disease ridden whore who tried to rob him one night. Her nails dug deep into his flesh and his body atrophied. He was so ashamed of losing his once splendid constitution that he preferred dying alone than risk anyone see his weakened form.

In his last documented piece of scientific writing, Jorgensen insisted that a man's center of fortitude is located in a specific portion of his anatomy. His wife has spent much time defending this thesis and has been approached recently regarding the matter of young men found dead with their bodies missing a few specific parts.

A cheeky monster to be sure...

Jorgensen may one day reclaim his own lost masculinity, but first he needs to make sure no one knows of his experiments...


Mon Oct 26, 2015 10:03 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Oh Captain, my Captain!

Julia can barely sleep at night for her heart's ceaseless pounding awakens her without fail. Her dreams are haunted by the man in black, that mysterious stranger whom she met on the island that fateful day.

Her honour was protected that day for as the sailors approached, he would come down from the heavens like some dark angel of the night. The men were clearly a dangerous lot with no small amount of impure and malicious ideas regarding young women such as her.

She barely understood their barbaric language and it certainly didn't take any great scholar to see that the Gods had dutifully marked these... creatures with the traits befitting their primitive nature. Mother always said to be careful around their... kind. Their bone structure, she read once, showed that they had not properly evolved from their more primal states and to say nothing of their skin.

Her fellow passengers were gone with but scraps of their garments to be found. One of... them had an item she recalled seeing one a distinguished gentleman who had boarded with her. It was a lovely sword, lavishly crafted and clearly the mark of a man who had once been a great and valorous soldier. A general perhaps? Not that Julia knew of such matters much, but he impressed upon her with his manners.

When she saw... it raising it aloft as if to say "Look, look on at what fate awaits mankind! Here I hold the remnants of civilization and forever shattered and tattered it shall be for so long as my kin lives!"

Indeed what immoral cruelty must be in their soul for one of the men threw her to the seas before she could meet her saviour. Needless to say he would be certainly elated if he were to know that she miraculously survived her fall, rescued by men, real men.

They warned her about the island and told her stories. Brave men that they were, clearly their chivalrous nature would not allow them to bring her back to a place of such trauma... not without cleaning it of its filth first.

She yearned to see the angel of the night again, fearing that the barbarians may have hurt him.

She must return one day, but real men tend to be too honourable and virtuous to allow a fragile girl on board their ship. Perhaps she may have to venture forth and find lesser men to carry her. For true love, some sacrifices must be made.

-----

(Finally, the Île de la Tempête hook is done!)


Wed Nov 25, 2015 10:20 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
For those of you keeping track, I set out to add one hook for each canonical domain as well as every campaign setting specific MC Appendix because what is life without goals? Also, if anything I find it to be a feasible challenge.

Here's what's left:

Castle Island

Demise

Ghastria

Isle of Ravens/Isle of the Ravens

Necropolis

Nocturnal Sea (Nebligtode)

Shadow Rift

Valachan

House of Lament (thanks go to Lesser Evil for his hook)

Avonleigh

Odiare

Sanguinia

Shadowborn Manor

Saragoss

Staunton Bluffs

Davion

I'Cath

Winding Road


Last edited by Zettaijin on Tue Apr 12, 2016 10:55 am, edited 12 times in total.



Wed Nov 25, 2015 10:28 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
The Lacanthrope

"Tell me of your father... tell me of the enjoyment he amassed... tell me... tell me how he stood in your way... He forbids all, the primal father who always returns from the dead. His death is precisely why he returns."

Running. Why didn't I run? Why did I stand there, listening passively. He invaded me, my thoughts, my fears, my sanity. Then... then he appeared by my side as he did that day. Father... father please forgive me!

"You are not a grain of corn, you as a man know this, but does the hen know it too?"

I cried. On my knees I cried like an infant while the hen pecked at me.

"Your failure to properly emulate your mother clouds your judgment. You must resist the lure of the Imago."

I did not understand his words. The order of language failed me yet I understood him. That's when I lost my mind and reached out for the warm comfort of the maternal bosom... only to find myself in the arms of my exact duplicate.

"Whom do you believe? Your eyes or my word?"

Then he changed. His appearance, I mean, it changed. His hair and beard grew unkempt and he wouldn't stop touching his face and gesticulating wildly. And his voice, why did he speak with that accent?

Only through language can you cure Lacanthropy, yet it is also the means to transmit the virus. Lacanthropes affect reality through their words making maternal and paternal figures reappear along with other bizarre feats.

Only a few are known to exist but they are virulent and gaining much power within Dementlieu.


Mon Dec 07, 2015 7:18 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
(Another spot the reference no prize for whomever finds out what I'm ripping off!)

Few things are as precious to the people of Sanguinia as their children. The young ones are protected ferociously and anyone who would dare harm a child will earn the wrath of the entire village. As the summer sun thaws the frozen waters of Lake Argus, the rivers flow again and bring with them what the lake no longer desires. The residents of Tirgo never expected to find the frozen remains of a young girl from the village who had gone missing for almost half a year.

No visible wounds and no signs of trauma anywhere, save for dirt in under her fingernails. Did she drown?

Local herbalists pondered if perhaps the use of poison was involved but they all claim that her body seems far too pristine and that her time under the ice may have affected any outward signs.

Her family remains in shock while friends say she was seeing a boy from Kosova, a fact that has greatly agitated the locals. Elders vaguely remember that a Kosovan was once accused of murdering a local lumberjack thinking the latter to be a wandering troll or some other beast. It was after dark and the shadow cast by the massive man had scared the Kosovan.

Memories die quickly in Sanguinia and the details are quite unclear, but it does little but incite the locals.

Also, the arrival of a learned man and his associate from lands far away - a correspondence of a somewhat less isolated merchant of herbs and dispenser of medicine from the village - seems to be rubbing more salt in the wounds as he proposes to inspect - or defile as locals would have it - the body with their strange foreign science.

The man, while quite congenial and serious-minded, is an outsider and as such earns himself a considerable amount of mistrust. Some fear he may cover up Kosovan foul play as a form of wrong-minded diplomatic tactic.

Then there's the infamous lodge. A mythical place surrounded by various rumours and stories. Local children are told to avoid it as they may never come back were they to meet the devil who resides there. Lumbejacks pay it no mind, claiming the place to be merely a shack which is now barely able to withstand the cold winds as they descend from the peaks. However, one odd lady has suggested that perhaps the lodge is responsible for the death.

Yet others, somewhat less inclined to engage in actions against Kosova, wonder if perhaps the lumberjacks are hiding anything. She was old enough to know and avoid the lake wasn't she?

It is a race against time as the summers are short and Lake Argus will soon enough be frozen again. Locals wishing to settle the score with Kosova aim to do so before then.

(In truth, she killed herself. A long history of abuse from her father culminated in her engaging in various self destructive activities. She was also under the influence of a locally made stimulant used by lumberjacks to endure the long winters. The lodge is the secret lair of an alchemist who prepares the stimulant. Its use is obviously somewhat frowned upon in the villages yet everyone knows that the men working the forests near the castle feel they have little choice.)


Sun Jan 17, 2016 9:39 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
Twin Peaks!


Tue Jan 26, 2016 6:28 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
A Mission to the Amber Wastes
An Ezrite missionary hears a story of Sebua from some passing Pharazian merchants. The children live there in a state of feral wildness without faith or even the attention of parents. The Ezrite missionary is shocked to the core, and becomes hellbent on traveling to Sebua to save the children from the Legions of Night. However, guards will likely be needed, and the missionary might pay a tidy sum of cash for a simple escort operation. Everything goes fine, almost suspiciously so, as the missionary mistwalks right into the cluster (though into Har'Akir). Other than the oppressive heat and maybe a run in with a snake or two, everything goes well up to their arrival in Muhar. (The players may think better than to bring a missionary to a theocratic state, but the missionary will insist.) Being a good Ezrite at heart but a little naive, the missionary can't help but start preaching to people on the streets as his caravan resupplies. At first he is quietly ignored, then shunned, then finally openly threatened by the faithful of the Akiri pantheon.

Taken aback at their offense, the missionary off handedly stammers out he is just here to convert the Sebuan wild children. Bad idea, as the townspeople now see the party as walking beacons for woe and sorrow, wanting to go into Sebua for any other reason than to go through it. And as much as the Muhar townspeople begrudge the intruding foreigners, they inform them of their doomed fates should they continue this mission to perdition. The villagers shunt the missionary and the party out of Muhar. To his credit, the missionary is shaken up by the experience and now dreads the trip, but sees no other option but to continue with it, albeit a little bit more carefully. The party may convince him to turn back, but then they will have to deal with traveling through the Mists blindly.

Regardless of their choice, an ill wind blows. So long as they remain in the Amber Wastes, they are dogged by misfortune both mundane and unnatural. Animals act uncharacteristically hostile, even aggressive. Wandering mummies begin to shadow and then attack them. And some bandits hear about how these foolish travelers are dead people walking, so they set out ambushes to help the rubes along in their journey to death.

If the party manages to arrive in Sebua and even to get to the children, their activities may draw out the hunger of Mooshar or the wrath of Tiyet. They may try to flee, and could conceivably find shelter with a certain oasis inhabited by the Pharazians. Inadvertently, this may draw them into an internal power struggle within their priesthood. (see Children of the Night: Demons on the Kargatane website for details on this.) If they draw too much attention from the Pharazians, some of the Inquisitors of Diamabel may come after them. And if the party has taken too long to escape Tiyet, she may send roves of her undead, potentially bringing the party into the cross-hairs of both Diamabel's inquisitors on one side and Tiyet's undead on another.


Sat Jan 30, 2016 12:26 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
A Life for a Life

A loved one of a sage has become targeted by the Phantom Lover just as the sage discovers a way to undo the Phantom Lover: he can only be destroyed by exchanging his life for the life he takes. The sage then links the Phantom Lover to the House of Lament, that seems to desire the sacrifice of lives to it (or perhaps, the spirit of Mara.) The characters are tasked with convincing, tricking, or otherwise manipulating both Mara/the House and the Phantom Lover to manifest to each other, allowing them to fall in love and in that love, undo their mutual cursed immortality.


Sat Jan 30, 2016 1:48 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread


Old wives' tales and legends they may be, but there are many in Valachan who believe that one should always bring tribute for the capricious spirits of the woods lest they curse you in some manner or form. Their magic is ancient and even the most potent witch doctor, shaman, witch and wizard knows better than to trifle with the likes of them.

As time passes, mortals grow more daring and reckless. The cautiousness of their ancestors meant a safe, peaceful co-existence with the powerful feys and ghosts yet for that very reason each subsequent generation forgets the sacrifices of the past and their reason.

Sometimes power can make a man forget his place in the natural order. It emboldens him, brings fire to to the pit of his stomach and a certain carelessness to his actions. Common mortals learn to fear the painful lash of their superiors but the powerful among them are not so easily scared.

It is said in whispers that one day even the dreaded Black Leopard will know fear as deep within the forests is a beast which reflects their cruelty as if an image in a twisted mirror.

Stories vary, of course, as is the nature of such things but all agree that is a great cat - a large, black feline to be precise - with the sharp teeth and claws one would expect from such a beast. However, and these are just tales and rumours, it is said that one cannot clearly see the creature; it seems to exist just outside one's range of vision and to see it directly is impossible. At best, one may see a blurry black shape pouncing before having your throat slashed and ripped. Some say it's a shadow which was granted life by the forest spirits to protect some sacred grove from defilement at human hands while others say it is a manifestation of a long forgotten God.

A few men claim to have seen the beast as it feasted upon a hapless victim, hence the vague reports of its appearance, but the Black Leopard will not tolerate storytellers who recite this tale for it is actually considered outlawed within the realm and so reports on its existence remain scarce.

Von Kharkov has indeed decreed the tale to be dangerous as it suggests that somehow beasts will triumph over humanity.

----

Explanation: In an attempt to rid himself of any traces of his bestial origins, Von Kharkov has employed various means and tried many cures but none have ever managed to fully suppress his feline instincts.

However, in his frustration Von Kharkov made the grave mistake of disrespecting the feys of the wood with whom he had made a compact. The latter warned Kharkov that he would be wise to respect the terms of their agreements as some powers dwarf even his.

The attempt to rid Kharkov of his bestiality was of course unsuccessful as the Dark Powers would never allow their plaything to be rid of his convenient excuse for cruelty, in fact, the ritual caused Kharkov such pain that he slaughtered the feys for making a fool of him.

An elder fey grinned and disappeared into the depths of the woodlands, issuing a warning that perhaps the Lord didn't understand his nature as well as thought and that his foolishness unleashed a much more dangerous beast.

Kharkov does not fear death for he is one of the undead, yet from the corner of his eyes he saw a blurry claw slash his arm, drawing blood and causing immense pain. The claws continued to maul him from all sides and he was forced to flee as he could not see who or what was attacking him. How long has it been since he had tasted this kind of fear? He felt painful lashes on his back as he ran, eventually finding himself turning into his feline form against his will.

As he ran away he could hear the laughter of his former master. While turning to see if his invisible assailant had given up and why he could hear the madman's voice again, he remembers seeing for fleeting moment the face of all those who made him bend the knee as a man and heel as a beast. Eventually he collapsed in front of a group of Black Leopards who promptly brought him to his castle.

The feys of the Valachani woodlands are far more ancient than he and their powers are mysterious as they are potent. Numerous are those who resent the humans who took the land for their own and seem to have lost all respect for the previous inhabitants.

Alkham is notorious among his kin for his stubborn refusal to accept humankind's transgression and sought to make an example out of the Lord of the land. However, the humiliated Baron made sure that no word of this was to escape Castle Pantera. The Black Leopards who helped him back to his castle were disposed of under pretense of harbouring mutinous desires. Alkham found this amusing and set his "little friend" loose on unsuspecting villagers who strayed too close to the woods knowing that despite the Nosferatu Lord's brainwashing, fear of a strange and unknown beast would likely spark rumours and remind him that the feys are still there.

The little friend in question is Alkham's shadow given some sentience through fey magic. It may take on a corporeal form, solidifying into a carbon copy of Alkham or any shape it chooses as it was given a fraction of Alkham's own powers over its form. It specifically chooses to hunt as a displacer beast - a twisted, monstrous version of Von Kharkov's feline form.

Alkham is acting alone and does not have the tacit approval of his peers, although most would agree that mankind needs a lesson in humility.

The Dark Powers have noticed Alkham's growing ambition and may yet decide to allow him to take over for Urik.


Sun Feb 28, 2016 10:15 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
By the way, thanks The Lesser Evil for your House of Lament hook! Another one down!


Sun Feb 28, 2016 10:18 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
In a domain adjacent to Barovia the PC's come upon a two lowland loup garou attacking a wounded man with a sword, amid the corpses of other men and loup garou. Assuming they save him Hans thanks them gruffly, claiming truthfully that he and his deceased companions were attacked by the Loup Garous. Surprisingly him and the two men he was with managed to down two of the creatures. Though he gathers the swords of his fallen companions, he displays little care about the disposition of their corpses, explaining that they were only co-workers. He asks the party to escort him to Krezk, offering just enough gold to make it worth their while. He has an item to bring to his employer.

In Krezk he reports to his superior, the head of the Red Vardo Traders. Then she calls the PC's into her office, presenting them with the money promised and giving a brief overview of her organization. She explains that Hans has acquired a rare item for one of her clients, but she had intended for he and his group to also deliver it. She doesn't have any available manpower at the moment and since the PC's have proven themselves to be an honorable group, she would like to hire the PC's to go with Hans to deliver the item. Should they accept, she can offer the prospect of more work in the future.

Should they refuse, that the end of the adventure assuming there are no beautiful women among them (in which case they'll be getting a visit sooner or later). If they accept, she lays out the path they will be taking to a land just beyond Nova Vassa known as Nosos.

Assuming they complete the journey successfully, Hans will present the small locked box he is carrying to Malus Scelarias, right after he makes an impassioned speech about the plight of the poor and sick in the land, which everyone around seems to callously ignore. Back in his Malus' home Hans will open the box, revealing the interior to be lined with thick pillowed velvet and containing only a small glass jar. Inside the jar is a finger length hunk of crystal, delighting Malus.

This seemingly innocuous crystal is of course part of someone who fell prey to the magical Crystallization virus. After learning of the sickness from a traveler to his domain, Malus was most eager to get a sample and, given their reputation, naturally turned to the Red Vardo Traders.

Likely Malus will invite them to stay the night and attend dinner at his mansion. The adventure could go in several directions from there and it is possible the PC's could depart the domain being none the wiser for what they have done. If so, choosing to continue to work for the Red Vardo Traders could lead them to all sorts of interesting situations . . .


Tue Mar 01, 2016 7:29 pm
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
That's a neat hook, Solan. Welcome to the Fraternity of Shadows Boards.


Fri Mar 04, 2016 9:28 am
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Post Re: Random hooks thread
A Date With Death (Featured Domains: Darkon, Necropolis, and possibly Barovia)

Strahd's agents have received word of the disaster that has overtaken Il Aluk and the new lord that dwells there that calls itself "Death". This has piqued Strahd's interests. He needs agents to go there and discover if this Death is the same Death as the one he made a pact with. Strahd's agents have also discovered the existence of a storehouse of the Necropolitan Amaranth held in stasis by Azalin's magic. He wishes living* spies to locate the Amaranth and then go into the Shroud of Necropolis. Most likely, he will have his agents pose as somebody else to manipulate the PCs into venturing into Necropolis. Should they prove especially useful tools, he may send them back to negotiate some kind of treaty with Death.

*Unlike undead, living spies would not be subject to the direct control of either Azalin or Death.

The Escape to Odiare (Featured Domains: Odiare, Sebua, and possibly other domains in the Amber Wastes; A follow-up to my "Mission to the Amber Wastes" a few posts above)

A mistway opens up to Odiare as things seem to otherwise turn for the worst. The PCs, the missionary, and many of the Sebuan children flee through the Mistway to escape the wrath of the lords of the Amber Wastes. Once inside, the Sebuan wild children meet the children of Odiare, and culture shock sets in. The entrance of so many newcomers overtakes the ability of Odiare to sustain everyone, causing a scarcity of food. Will the children turn on each other such that you have a Lord of the Flies-like situation?

And how will Maligno react? He is highly likely to either take the entrance of outsiders into his realm as an affront, or to find a away to exploit the situation for his own benefit. Will Tiyet attempt to send some of her minions through the Mistways to gain some of her food supply back?


Fri Mar 04, 2016 10:55 am
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