Artificer's Intuition

"A gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials. " - Lucius Annaeus Seneca Alf's Note: This update will bring everything up to speed with my campaign.  For more information about the city of Genkar, including most of its history, please see this link: http://artificersintuition.blogspot.com/2012/04/we-built-this-city.html As the party stood in the Hall of Justice, they heard Mekkalath the red dragon flying about and roaring in rampage over the loss of his treasures.  They were weak, tired, and no idea what to do next.  The dragon landed atop the building, spewing fire into the night sky, and bellowing a challenge.  If the thief did not come forward, he would destroy the town of Daemonwe.  Krenlor did not move, and in an instant, the dragon flew off into the night. Bastin led the group back into the wilderness surrounding the plateau of Dovesong Abbey.  Their group was much smaller.  Niz, the pirate they had met, had fled,

“If gold rusts, what then can iron do?” - Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales I got these off of ebay a month or so ago, yet because I didn't see my friend for that long, I wasn't able to get them.  I wanted to share them with all of you, especially after posting about Genkar.  Is there a connection?  Maybe..... This gold dragon is medium size.  Not a huge dragon, but still pretty cool.  Large gold dragon

"Sheeter buri ashchhe dheye" - Bangla saying for "The winter old woman is coming fast." A number of posts back, I wrote about the Star Wars minis I was using in my DnD games and what they were standing in for.  I also commented on how I had no idea what to do with my Clone Trooper/Stormtrooper minis.  After much brainstorming and more world building, I finally have a new culture/race that these minis will provide. Far north, at the edge of the world on a foreign continent (not Aradove), a group of reclusive guardians dwell among the Frostbyte Mountains.  Those traveling the mountain paths claim to see figures enshrined in white, fading into the snowy winds as soon as they appear.  They are covered from head to toe, some wearing armor, others donning cloth robes.  In the end, all are mysterious, for they speak little and never show their faces.  Their dwellings are unknown, and who they are, none can say.  The villagers who live at the foot of