Scents of ages past and scents of the zeitgeist. A guild of perfumers.
*Sphhisshh* *Sphhissh* *Sphhissh*
They consumed Great G’bod. They partook of the Giant Slug’s flesh.
During certain years, people in Akgku claim to observe a green flame coming from the sea and erupting upward. It can be observed from a distance of two days’ journey or more. After burning for a considerable time, the flame disappears.
—Falklyde Wodinger, Haraconian scholar, in route to wondrous Udross and legendary Akgku.
Colossal Water Lilies
Space-Faring, Hard-Rocking, Metal-Grinding, Star-Tripping, Deathdealing, Dwarves.
Spare me your Epics!
Despair! Despair! The Dread Crow’s Glare!
Beware the amphibious wolves my child, and most of all, avoid the red-eyed crow!
Wieberburl, home of the peculiar Book-Fish.
The Horrors and Wonders of a distant, sun-drenched land. Everything you need to run a desert campaign!
"When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,"
-Shakespeares 29th Sonnet.
The Sneel are causing trouble again.
Not quite Science Fiction…
Someone wants Prince Philoj dead. Or?
Wherever the PCs have gone recently, they have heard the talk. The Doomsday Machine of Toothless Amalgam has stopped spitting out birdseed. The End is nigh.
For the coddling of the weak and mewling shall one day be the Downfall of All Races!
—Morkoel Rasher, denouncing Moleskin in verse.
Et deprecabantur eum spiritus dicentes mitte nos in porcos ut in eos introeamus (Mark 5:12)
Hot off the Press! These are not your eldritch manuals or ancient folios of doom. These are random books, a GM can use whenever a PC reaches for a shelf, which usually happens when said GM is least expecting it. These can be found in most libraries, many private homes, and anywhere else one could expect to find a book. More than a few have some built-in plot hooklings as well, while others, like many books of our age, are plain drivel.
In the inaccessible plateau of Hor-Nushan, there was always little crime. But in late autumn comes a maddening wind, that can drive the best man crazy, if only for a short time, make him turn on himself or others. For murder, the locals have devised a special punishment: the murderer has to dig a well for the family of his victim. The area is very dry, and having a good well is a source of wealth and prestige. In this way, the murderer atones for his deed and repays the family; perhaps they even find peace.