It starts on the horizon, creeping over the land. The storm clouds are huge. They fill the sky. They are moving this way; relentless like the tide, faster than they have a right to. They are dark, so dark to be nearly purple. The rain begins to fall near you. You hear it hit the ground. It hits like bullets. The wind gusts; getting in between a person and their warmth. There is thunder that deafens you. It rolls forth like a stampede. The lightning brings the suns brightness for a moment, before plunging you back into the dark.
"What do you do now?"
-Heroes scatter under barrage of grey energy spheres-
"You know kids, you didn’t mind when Captain Liberty took you down. He did it with honor, with respect, and followed the rules. Not you kids today. For you, it is all about The Power. Just as soon shoot you as take you in. And really young lady, would your mother approve of that costume? Not that the rest of you dress much better. What standard are you idiots setting for the young kids of today?"
"Get up. Don’t you have any pride? A novice should have been able to avoid that attack. You have a total lack of grit. Don’t lie there and moan. Get up. And that surprise maneuver you two are attempting. I have to tell you, not so much of a surprise. Now, stop standing there wide eyes and slack jawed. Do something. "
"You are heroes for Gods sake. Start acting like it."
It is pitch black. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.
It is pitch black. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.
The Players… you know, those other people hanging out with the game masters/ dungeon masters/ keepers/ referees
These specially made candles are favorites of wives, lovers, and mothers who see their loved ones off to battle or to trade in far away lands.
The Dark Kind came to the world as conquerors. They failed. Now they are odd neighbors.
They go together like a horse and carriage.
This I tell you brother, You can’t have one without the other.
The yang and yin team of Connor, the Urban Paladin, and Heather, The Mystic Cleric, is very effective as his pragmatism is balance by her optimism, her enthusiasm and idealism are tempered by his cautious paranoia, his wounds are healed by her, and she is kept alive by his sword. This effectiveness aside, Connor and Heather are not your normal adventurous members of The Church. Nor are they a couple.
The Rite of Children is a beautiful service. The children practice their parts for a month under the tutalage of the local priests. Then they will sing, recite, and pray for their parents and the sults of the congregation.
We were quite the motley band, even for adventuresome sorts. Yet being in a party can bring even the oddest people close. Let me tell you a story.
We were on the road to Maltrell and had been for a week. Tempers were short. We had been thrown together by various guilds, temples, and noble houses, and few of us wanted to be here. We had not come to know each other at this point, let alone trust each other. I personally was thinking about breaking my contract. Then I saw it.
Sitting on a log by the side of the quick camp we had for a break were our two of our oddest members. Ton was a bald holy man of the Ancient Dragon Temple. His ways were odd and nobody truly understood him. He was the only man who could act like a servant, yet still have an imperious superior than thou attitude. Sitting with him was good old Darren. Darren was his opposite. He was a cat folk, and very city, very Parisian, if you know what I mean. He was a total dandy, with tons of clothes, foppish snobby attitude, and pretenses to nobility, honor, and station beyond his station. Gods know, I miss that cat.
Anyways, the two were sitting together, had been for a bit I guess. They seemed to be hitting it off, smiling and talking. I could not see what those two could have in common, the most austere and the most…umm worldly.. of our party. When I came up to ask, "What was so funny"? They both leaned back and showed me their feet, wiggling their toes, though they were wearing something shoe-ish. When I looked at them perplexed like, they both burst into genuine laughter. Darren made some comment about only they wore the finest footwear. There was some joke that I did not know. It annoyed me at the time, but to be honest… it was that laughter that held us together. It showed that even though we did come from different places and had different positions, we had things in common - even if they be shoes- and could be as one. One by one, we came to know each other and realized that, as a party, we could complete our mission.
White Rock is a fishing village just off the main coastal road, not too far from a town and a bit farther from a city. Named for the white boulders that are found around these parts, the village is built on a protected cove that has a small set of streams outletting into it. The weather is a bit cold in the winter, but the summers can be quite pleasant. The fishing is fairly good in these waters. It is on its way to becoming a tiny town.
The Pegorans are an ancient culture of people that have left their unique marks upon the world.
You could only hear the rest of them. And you could only hear them because they didn’t mind being heard. Running in the trees they were. We followed the little guy named Dorto. He led us to a spot and said in broken Gallen, "Here is village". There was nothing there I tell you. We looked about and could not see a thing. He smiled and pointed up. You could see it then, the huts and nests and ropes. A bunch of them were just hanging there by their feet looking at us. It was going to be an odd night. Exerpt from A Sailor’s Journey, by Ptholus WindRider
The Sergeant did not have to clear his throat. He could just begin - at full volume - and instantly quiet the room of recruits. "The Remote Gun Platform. You worms would know it as a Tankbot. Is your best friend on the battlefield next to the guy sitting beside you. You will come to love this thing for its functionality, its ability to see the enemy, and for its ability to be blown up instead of you. "
While every ship has antigravity engines in this day and age, leaving a full gee planet can take most smaller ships quite a while. The presence of numerous anti-gravity fields can cause interference and fluxation in power broadcast, some comm channels and of course, cause "traffic control issues" as they are flying out. There is a better, safer way to launch them.
Maxwell Cyler, Developer, to the Congessional Areospace Committee
These are minor things that can be dropped in anywhere to add "narrative flavor", to make it more than just another road, field, forest or beach.
Klah has become a fantasy/ science fiction trope - a rule or guideline that people follow. However many do not know what it is.
Sports and other competitions are common in every society. They allow healthy competition and release for competitive nature. What sports do you have in your world?
She is The Princess of the Night Faire
On route from Geli to Nekrass the characters meet a peasant boy on the road. He's wandering in the direction from which they've just come. If this seems a little bit incongruous, they may wish to ask him a few questions. He's perfectly willing to talk: he's called Lamish and he's run away because he knows he is the heir to the throne of Geli and his parents didn't believe him. How far is his home? About five weeks walk from here. How much has he eaten? Nothing. Has he drunk? Only from the filthy roadside ditches. In short, it's a wonder he is still alive. And yet he seems perfectly healthy.
Is he a thief, waiting for travellers to trick? Is he lying because there's something more sinister under all of this? Is he telling the truth? And anyway, what should the characters do? Do you take him to Geli? Do you try to find his parents? Or leave him to make his own way?