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Among the nobles, the highborns and the rich merchant classes, there exist tales of a most sough for wine from the Altarence vineyard, located within the kingdom of Chaubrette. Alas, the location of the fabled vineyard of Altarence is elusive and for many years it has stopped  selling wines to the merchants. Existing wines from the vineyard has become prized items and are sold at an exuberant prices. Some others seek  to recreate the taste of the vintage.

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The teenage son of a noble has been down recently, having no appetite and losing interest in the usual activites, such as his sword training and the hunt. He is also begining to lose sleep, fidget endless and has been shut up in his room. His parents are starting to worry about the young noble, especially when he begins to sleep with a sword by the side of his bed. The adventurers could be called in for a number of reason – they are friends, allies or they run into the young lord fleeing, waving his sword and cutting at the thin air frantically.

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Something stalks the road of the Worncliff Village during the early hours of the night. It is a rider in a suit of rusty-orange full-plate armour, an iron mask on his face, and a great sword on his back. His steed moves eerily silently on the forest path and the paved road. Villagers who encounter him flee, for he never speaks, and there appears to be no eyes behind the eye-slits of the iron mask. Trade never prospers for the Worncliff Village and a new abbot has arrived here and is determine to chase off this intruder so that traders may come.

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Someone has been getting rich from the selling strange alchemical potions on the streets, from love potions to deadly poisons that could not be detected. Yet those potions are beyond the skills of any hedge wizards or witches, and have a certain difference from those done by “professional” wizards and alchemists. The sellers of those potions could be only reached by contacting former buyers of the potions, and they are usually tight-lipped as not to give the game away. What’s the secret of those potions?

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Stumbling out from the ruins were once a menial scorned for his utter lack of usefulness; he has no gift for farming or animal husbandry, could not concentrate well enough to be taken in the priest as a student and terrible with a weapon. All he could do was to tag along with a group of adventurers when they visit the ruins of a citadel rumoured to be the one of the most powerful stronghold within the land hundreds of years ago. Yet the menial emerged alone, without the adventurers, with a purposeful stride and a gleam in his eyes…he has found something deep within the recess of the ruins…and all would fear him

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A castle and its inhabitants have been struck by a strange disease, or…situation. They eat, yet they still hunger, a gnawing hollowness always in their stomach. Leeches and physicians have been no help and the peasants are already whispering about demonic possessions and the like. The adventurers were passing by, or one of their friends or relatives were involved, and were called to help (the knight errant would have a blast being begged back!)

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You will never come across a group of people as bitter and suspicious as the ones dwelling within the fief of Halerock’s Road. Smacked dead centre between five competing fiefs, small but possessing numerous mines, the fief has been ceded, conquered, absorbed and mist-treated by nobles and politicians for era. There was a time when the King’s Authority was respected, and the people of Halerock’s Road was hospitable, being the centre of a religious movement and well-known for their friendliness. But now no more.

The PCs are given the impossible task possible – drive the vultures from Halerock’s Road, and gain the trust of the villagers and townsfolk for their liege lord.

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Sometimes, getting to the treasure is not the end of the quest, but rather the start of a new set of troubles! Selling powerful magical artefacts would definitely capture the attention of some people, and in some settings, such as Warhammer Fantasy Role-playing or Dragon Warriors, you may end up with the Church behind your back. Artefacts of power also tend to lure in more open-ended challenges. How do you deal with the potential world-destroying device?

The adventurers have chanced by (after much questing, of course) the Horn of the First King, believed to be given to the first mortal ever deem fit to rule in Elleseland by one of the faerie-lord. It is said that the Horn would summon an alliance of faerie-born and the beastmen if the First King’s realm was ever taken. One of the important quest entrust to a Seletine Legion was the discovery and destruction of horn, but apparently they have failed; records are sketchy and stories run rampant about it, but the adventurers are sure they got the Horn of the First King in their hands…

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So finally, after a long hiatus, I have return to complete this house rule for Dragon Warriors. Elementalists in Dragon Warriors are able to specialise in one primary element and pick two other elements to complement his repertoire. The previous article has looked at variant Earth spells for the Fire Elementalist and today it’s time for Air!

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A small town has been shrouded in gloom and despair. Suicide, which was extremely rare considering the Church’s teachings on taking on one’s life, became frequent. Even though the town is on a busy trade route, the merchants seem to lose the will to barter, inn-keepers lose their chatter and even bards avoid the place. The cause of all this despair? A Faerie Cat, Caithsee.

Caithsees usually lust after magical energies and their usual haunts are graveyards and the wilderness. Magic usually failed in the presence of a Caithsee; but what is one doing in an urban environment like a trading town? (The Caithsee is detailed in the Dragon Warriors’ Bestiary, page 52).

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