The members of this obscure order specialize in growing funghi. Growing, researching and studying many kinds, they even try to create new ones.
Smeer was dragging a cart full of strings. Another cart of another strings, it was heavy, but probably the best job in these works for a weak boy. He brought it to the machine that weawed the ropes; the hands of older boys powered it. They were paid a few coppers more, but could barely move after a whole day of work. Smeer hoped to get older and stronger one day, to help his family out of poverty. Pulling the cart back through the yard, he suddenly noticed something. Does not that pebble look like… a coin? A glistening silver coin?! That would help for a few days! Looking around, he carefully picked it up, and hurried to work to stay unnoticed.
But something has noticed him.
Dungeons, should make sense, in an ecological way. However, to have life, you need to have a physical place to use them. This expands upon the ecological dungeon, giving it a framework to exist in.
A very rare spider, combines a certain degree of inteligence and wickedness. Living in underground locales, it can survive for long periods of time without fresh food. Even a rat is good, but it likes bigger prey, even humanoids.
The horrible and hated Nail Worm lives in deep caves near the Evil Labyrinth. It is unknown, whether only one monster exists, or there are several. There was at least one guaranteed sighting in the Labyrinth itself.
We have all seen articles on how Dungeons don’t work. I’ve seen such articles before. But this time, an idea struck me: Why not do a dungeon that really works? Where creatures live their lives in harmony; just the right ecological way?
Do you Remember?
The followers of this school specialize in the control of the Fog phenomenon. In a world where most magical effects have only a short duration, theirs can stay active for hours, even days in some rare cases.
Here, fantasy meets science-fiction. Little green men have built automated outposts for the research of this planet.
These are mystic traditions and their attendant sources.
Unseen and striking from suprise, this creature is on its way to becoming a legend.
Large, difficult to kill, and long lived, this creature is responsible for the return of the Dagger as the primary tool of political intrigue.
This tree has a somewhat unclear bush-like appearance. But so far, nothing special. The actual reason why is it called after medusas, is his power to deter any hostile creatures, and to be sure, all creatures
Crevasians were human long ago. The differences are several, but few were ever noticed by outsiders. They have astrong communal feeling, which _literally_ flows in their blood…
Globs are a partially amorphous life-form of the shape-changing kind.
Awakened by a Curse, fed by the cries and anger of children, this creature now roams the world.
Think of any bizzare life-form, WHATEVER life-form that lives a not-so-standard way. Not the way common sense would expect it. Make it in some way logical or not, just forget the boring everyday logic.
“That was the second lynching this month. And last week they haven beaten some old sod that could barely crawl home.”
“Well, he was a drinker and bad to his wife, sir. It is really hard work they do, and not for much pay. But sir, we are doing wonderfully, all is going as planned and better!”
“Yes, the cathedral could be built months before expected, if we can keep up this speed. You are all doing great work, I’ll be sure to inform the Patriarch. Just take care no accidents happen anymore.”
Pure scent, while technically a potion, is not designed for drinking. If it is allowed to evaporate, it reacts with all ‘impurities’ in the air and removes them.
Invented by the Pelezians, the ceremonial bowl became a part of the holy tradition, coupled with a most practical purpose.
(Made for religions of agriculture.)
What a narrow street! The bowed windows of the upper floors encroach on the view of the bowed windows opposite, making it all very dark and shady down here in your carriage. You feel it slow down and stop, and there are raised voices outside. Craning your neck out of the door you see a smug cartsman ahead, whose cart is blocking just enough of the narrow street to make your passage impossible. He appears to be waiting for you to move, but your driver is hurling abuse at him and your horses are getting restless...