An unfortunate man and his canine companion
A favored son of the Prussian nobility, and a Knight Errant of the Restored Order of the Temple
The eldest of six sisters and the heir apparent of the Argyle-Blakes, and an investigator for the Royal Theosophical Society
Immortality can be had, but for a cost. Some are willing to pay this price, some are willing to make others pay the price. So long as there is gold in my hand I care not.
Madness lingers there, in the broken corners of his mind.
She left me, I couldn't deal with it. I sat there with the barrel of the gun in my mouth for a long time before I pulled the trigger.
(Graphic Warning: Not for delicate eyes)
My father is slain. His house is broken. His sword is shattered, and his axe has been rent apart. But his blood lives on.
I once sought vengeance, I have since been consumed by vengeance and that is that is left of who I was
It's hiding in the dark, it's teeth are razor sharp
There's no escape for me, it wants my soul, it wants my heart
No one can hear me scream, maybe it's just a dream
Maybe it's inside of me, stop this monster
Skillet ~ Monster
Tales grow in the telling and heroes grow in stature, even the tiniest can stand tall among their own.
Crazy old woman, selling pieces of bone and fake charms. The fact that the villagers even tolerate the old eye-roller hag demonstrates a lack of piety to the Faith.
Never judge a man until you’ve walked a mile in his shoes.
The power of the mind and of magic defies your pathetic attempts to understand them, submit and you will be spared
Orn himself was a past peasant hero and champion, in a largely rural and agricultural area, who dared to stand up to a conquering force, and inspire his fellows to do the same.
No high school teens who turn out to be wonder-pilots here.
Look at that, pale as death and she’s got her neck covered, betcha fifty she’s a fang-banger
A vampire Blood Doll, her master, and the workshop they share
We need to gather the cam-droppers and bulldog gears off of number six, yes the wrecked number six. Then, with those pieces and the short drive off of number three we can put number four back into action.
Abelard von Richter
Keep your wits about you man, they are only bullets. Not like we have to brave the damned bird.
Col. Chapman at the Battle of Miner Hill
Get to it, you mealy boned maggots! That stone isn’t going to cut itself!
The characters are wandering through the bustling crowds of Lasopolis. A street conjuror is performing a simple summoning spell, something for the kiddies. A bit of odious purple powder in the fire, an incantation and out pops a saak-lizard or a muhmentarsh, writhing from the flaming brazier. But the conjuror has only a poor grasp of the arcane magical tongue. A few stuttered syllables could lead to Other Things coming through the brazier and giving the crowd more entertainment than they had paid for...