‘The more you tighten your grip, Tarkin, the more star systems will slip through your fingers.’
Princess Leia, Star Wars - 1977
Laser Pistol: "Sears $49.99"
Moonhunter ~ commenting on guns versus swords
It’s a crappy Mk.9 Sunbeam pistol, I’ll give you 200 credits for it.
Sgt. Dietzman, retired ordinance officer and gun dealer
Give me your greenskins, your mobz, and your grunts
A villain’s lair is more than just a safehouse or stronghold, it can be as much a part of their persona as any powers, henchmen or nefarious plans
A random generator to create variable merchants shops, stores, and stalls.
Excitingly Chucky Psuedo-Science and Technology!
The Nightmare War did more than end the Old Empire, it turned a massive swath of once fertile land into the unimaginably hostile Wastelands, and populated it with beasts, horrors, and monsters.
Anjet of Cenn Caerwaith
‘Don’t you go foolin around in the fens buy. Moeder Moeras don’t care none if you mean no offence or just want to fill your wicker creel with fish. She’ll have your guts for fishnets and your bones for soup.’
Paulis the Riverguide
I need the shoe ads put in before the table of contents, and put the perfume ads behind the letters to the editor, don’t make me get the Sanderson data again on ad placement, and where in the blazes is my double-latte?
Ariel Kincaid, VP of Glitter Magazine
Inspired some years ago for a Kult/CoC Halloween game
The everyday kin to the elementals and the demons
An equipment listing of items useful to mages and wizards, but not quite deserving full submissions of their own.
The surprising thing about young fools is how many survive to become old fools.
Lithe as a willow and just as flexible
Ever collecting books, knick-knacks, gewgaws and endless heaps of strange oddments and tidbits
Cooked or raw, they taste like camel urine. Unfortunately they are full of water and easy to catch. I’m tired of eating these sand-fish
Anjet of the Cenn Caerwaith
Beware the lords of the sky, in the wastelands even the would-be dragons give them a wide berth
Anjet of Cenn Caerwaith
Brave Olgiherga Ogerhunch, ogre hunter of the Ostrobogs and fenstalker.
A salvage and scrap yard of the UFP
Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?