An evil dwarven clan deep within the mountains uses captive magmin to magically heat their forges. The clerics of the dwarven tribe have devised magic rune-carved adamantine collars to keep the magmin in line. When a magmin disobeys an order from the forgemaster, the collar becomes intensely cold. Using the heat generated by magmin-powered furnaces, the clan makes exquisitely crafted mithral and adamanite weapons and armor, perfect for taking up further enchantments. The clan makes this equipment available to local towns and mages throughout the area, none of which have any idea their new weapons and armor were made with slave labor.
In a nearby volcano, the tribe of magmin from which these slaves came is dying. The evil dwarves killed the younger magmin, captured all the healthy males, and left behind the females and elderly magmin, those beyond the point of reproduction. Without the males, the tribe is doomed.
In the village where the PCs are passing through/visiting, there is a massive fire. Warehouses and storage sheds are sure to be destroyed unless the PCs intervene. In the course of bringing the blazing inferno under control, the PCs encounter a band of magmin messengers, pleading for help. They have no idea they are the cause of the chaos around them, and are thankful for the warm reception the town seems to be offering.
An elven woodsmith has developed a method of making javelins, shortspears, and pikes using manticore tail spikes. His weapons are of superb quality, and carrying one of these weapons confers no small amount of prestige. However, his supply of manticore tail spikes is running low, and he asks the PCs to procure some more.
A pride of manticores predates the forests and fields not too far from the elven woodsmith. The region is under the eye of an orcish shaman, dedicated to preserving the integrity of his lands. The manticores are essential for keeping down the numbers of unusually fecund dire animals in this region. Without the manticore pride, the orc shaman would be hard-pressed to keep back the rising tide of extraordinarily hostile dire rats, weasels, baders, and bats. The shaman is trying to discover why the dire animals are so prolific and brutal, but has yet to find any answers. He knows, however, that without the manticores the region would be overun with tainted, twisted dire animals.
A reclusive artist has been selling very realistic sculptures through a variety of fronts. Most of them have been dealt through Blind Larry, a local madman (but a now very rich one). But when a statue shows up at Blind Larry's porch with a definite resemblance to a party member's missing mentor, the party takes it upon themselves to find out who is behind it by getting Blind Larry to lead them to her.
What they don't realize is that the medusa bard who created the statues wants very much to find a new dealer, and Blind Larry already has a buyer, a very powerful ilithid drug smuggler.
Avathiss, the medusan sorceress (Sor7), and her band of grimlock servants and warriors have taken up residence in an ancient underground temple two days' ride outside of town. She has cleaned out the debris of the ancient temple and directed her grimlocks to freshen the place up a bit. Avathiss may be a medusan sorceress, but she likes style and comfort.
During the cleaning, Avathiss comes across a large number of scrolls with spells of dark magic inscribed upon them. Using summoning circles and protective barriers, she finds in the temple ruins. Avathiss makes a bargain with a minor devil: In return for pretty gems, minor magic items, and unlocking Avathiss's magical potential (read: level advancement), the devil gains access to the temple's abandoned library, full of some of the vilest lore ever imagined, some unholy items that were left behind, a (fixed and stationary) magic mirror that Avathiss found within the temple, and an occasional grimlock.
Everybody is happy.
On an unrelated assignment, the PCs are asked to recover the remains of two local heroes, who were last seen heading to an old underground temple two day's ride outside of town, and perhaps discover what happened to them.
Avathiss has a small horde of grimlocks at her command, and two lieutenants: brothers, one a Fig5, the other Rog3/Fig2, and they are very skilled at working together. The rest are all warriors of 1d3+1 levels. The devil is an advanced barbazu. Avathiss has available to her whatever scrolls and magic items that were left behind in the abandoned temple, and whatever toys and alliances she has from the barbazu.
Everyone knows that water is a valuable commodity in a desert city. However, salt is also vital. The city of Salwana practically runs on salt. Salt is the official currency. (Gold is only used to buy salt from foreigners.) Caravans carry salt from far-off salt mines and trade it in Salwana for vast sums of gold, a transaction wherein both sides consider the other very foolish.
However, the Salwanan gold mines' output began to drop off, and the caravan leader grew ever more demanding of gold. As the city's gold supply dwindled, they were able to buy less and less salt. The small amounts of gold collected barely covered the expenses of trekking across the vast desert, so the caravan stopped coming. Already the city had very little salt, and now hope seemed lost. A grim mood set over the city as the situation grew dire. People began to kill each other over small amounts of salt; riots started; guards refused to do anything about it because the city had no salt to pay them. As for the mayor, he prayed for another source of salt to come along and save his people. He got it.
A salt mephit came -- whether by coincidence, or from outrage over the salt mining and trade or as a cruel joke from an evil god who heard his prayer -- and attacked the townsfolk. The good news is that the riots have stopped, and there is plenty of salt. The bad news is that there is plenty of salt. At first, the people were so desperate for salt the attacks didn't bother them; now, thick layers of salt cover the streets and buildings, looking almost like the aftermath of a large snowstorm. Salt is in people's eyes and on their skin, causing irritation. What's worse, salt is in the water.
Can the party save the city from the wrath of the salt mephit? Even if they defeat him, the town still needs a source of water (at least temporarily) and a new source of salt (or gold) for when the salt it has now runs out. Plus, there's the strain on the local economy from the incredible deflation (from a lack of money supply), followed by a period of rapid inflation (from the over-abundance of money), and possibly another period of deflation if the current supply runs out before a new source is established.
On the island of Aderan, science is the law of the land. Magic is dismissed as conjurer's tricks, but mentalism is common. The "experts" have conclusively "proven" that local sightings of merfolk are nothing but exaggerated descriptions of sea cows.
The merfolk are understandably upset about this. And they declare, to deaf ears on the surface, a war upon those who doubt their existence.
Now, the friendly merfolk the party relies upon as a "ear to the sea" have packed up and left, ready to quest in holy war against the disbelievers. Can the party stop a petty and unnecessary war? Or will they just sit back and watch the fireworks?
A known enemy of the party says he will let bygones be bygones, and even pay well, if the party does this little favor for him. They are to steal alarge chest (5'x5'x6') from the royal museum because [insert reason that will appeal to party].
The museum is well guarded, so they had best leave any heavy armor behind, and their new friend doesn't want blood shed at the start of what he hopes will be a long relationship, so they should leave most weapons behind too. No sense in adding to the risk of killing an innocent guard. Besides, the chest is quite heavy. They will all have to lift at the same time to move it.
(The mimic will be rather surprised when the party starts to lift it, but it has been getting a tad hungry...)
The borderlands are at war. The barbarians are attacking the border guards more and more, and of late minotaurs in extreme rages are slaughtering all who stand in their way (and in some instances there own allies). The pc's are given the task to find out why the barbarians are attacking so much with so much rage in them. Is it just the way they are or is something or someone making them lose control?
The party finds itself always getting lost in this magical dungeon. Consulting a sage produces the claim that only a minotaur can overcome this effect.
So the party must recruit a minotaur. All known ones are very hard to reason with and distinctly likely to change sides just for the nasty fun of it.
A children's rhyme, East Erathia.
Murderer, Murderer, scratch scratch scratch, With claws and teeth and bones to match, Tear me to pieces, eat me up One more victim, to fill your cup
Unknown assailants have kidnapped a prominent and powerful cleric of a town. Through further research, the PCs will discover that the instigator of the attack was a Mohrg, which, along with a band of zombies, managed to paralyze the cleric and take her to a cave just outside of town.
Inside the cave, the PCs will discover the grisly remnants of multiple killing sprees the Mohrg committed while alive. Rooms are filled with various grisly items collected by the Mohrg, and the bodies of his or her victims during life are scattered thoughout he complex. Eventually, the PCs will find the cleric, battered in a cell and bereft of his holy trappings. Questioning will reveal that the Mohrg took the cleric captive in order to give her to its master, a dark cleric who is even now gathering his fellows to sacrifice her to his dark god. The Mohrg fulfilled his part of the kidnapping in the hopes of attaining life once more through the dark cleric's magic.
This facet revealed, the caves will be plunged into magical darkness. The dark cleric and his pet Mohrg have returned, along with a cohort of other dark worshippers. At the same time as the darkness spells are cast, the Morhg's victims from life will rise from the dead and join what is now a formidable army of zombies, the Mohrg, and dark clerics. The PCs must fight their way free of the murderer's cave, suddenly a dark and frenzied trap filled with unspeakable horrors, and put to rest to Mohrg once and for all.
The king has learned that the kidnapped prince was killed and turned into a mummy to guard his killers' temple (which they thought was a great joke).
So the party is given a scroll of Resurrection and told to revive him. Among the other problems is that there are several mummies and the prince is not obviously different from the others (a detail the party finds out only after they enter the temple).