The blighted and forgotten hall of a once mighty demon lord
A pair of magical armored gauntlets
A specialized suit of power armor designed for peacekeeping and urban roles
A powered melee weapon for power armor assault troopers
With but a name, these places fill common folk with apprehension and dread
A magical device that grants the ability to shapeshift
A gun made by the God of the Dwarves
A Caribbean raft city
A sword that defines and exemplifies the city of Angradhat
A extra-dimensional symbiote
Melpomene's Espers? Ha! Let me know how that goes, and after that let me know when you find Atlantis and Jimmy Hoffa!
Brief bio of a space intel officer
30 in progress
a disposition os 30 types of armored combat vehicles
Marla (Fight Club) - as the salesperson whose species reproduces by cloning or similar technology.
PC generated by random generator
Why is psuedo-Medieval Tolkien-esque fantasy the heart of the fantasy RPG genre?
Azaughos was a beautiful city once, a jewel nestled in the mountains. It was a city that was built on an idea, and built with wealth, and great royal pride.
The city guard used to be crooked as a frendleback tree, then the society popped up. I miss the good old days when you could bribe a grunt to look the other way. It's hard and dangerous to be in the black arts now.
Nyp, Thieve's Guild
A Scrasamax rebuild/rewrite incorporating elements of Vampire the Masquerade, Requiem, and some stuff that I made up or borrowed from popular Vampire culture. Without background knowledge of the Vampire game or system, most of this might not make much if any sense.
An unfortunate man and his canine companion
The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...