Home of the Krylastys. Visitors allowed in the neutral zone only.
This was such a nice place to spend a good evening. Now, everyone who wins a little money is found dead the other day! I bet the owner is up to something…
"...a process of planetary engineering, specifically directed at enhancing the capacity of an extra-terrestrial planetary environment to support life. The ultimate in terraforming would be to create an uncontained planetary biosphere emulating all the functions of the biosphere of the Earth, one that would be fully habitable for human beings."
"So you have burned down the village?"
"Speak no more! I see the guilt in your eyes. Prepare for your punishment!"
So what is the difference between worlds and planets?
The product of anti-sound research, the Silence Field or "Silencer", became arguably one of the symbols of 21st century.
Was the treasure horde too large? Or the employer too generous? Ohhh, there are so many ways of depriving heroes of their more or less deserved wealth.
The lowly Undead cannot be a true replacement for a living well-motivated workforce. But Undead do not tire, they do not have moods (well none worth marking), they do not require pay or lunchbreaks, and can work 24/7, if properly controled. So until activists start to fight for Undead rights, they are an interesting option.
"What, never heard of it? I thought a young hacker like you would already know. Well let me tell you…"
The mountains are often a desolate place, but not without dangers, or opportunities.
When want and famine stalk the land, a strange tower of ashes appears in the village common, a tower holding the sacrifices of the unworthy. Those who have the courage may reclaim these treasures…
It is a small, lively town like so many others. Do you wonder who are the movers and shakers here?
“I… I only wished to help. But… I had nothing to give… save me… and this… unclean thing took advantage of it. And now I have given birth to another of the creatures. I cannot take care of it. My family would… I just can’t.
May gods have mercy with it.”
The peasant girl puts the little bundle to the convent’s door, rings the bell, and flees.
To be a detective is not the fun it seemed.
”...but bad news sells much better than good news. And no one can deliver the bad news as we can, senator.”
There is trouble in the mines, claims your employer. And you are just the people to solve it.
Masters of the sea, men of courage and honor, these you will find here and none other.
Behind the plains, beyond the mountains, and far after many leagus of the sea, is a place like you wouldn’t believe… (STUB)
Some places are too dangerous to enter, even approaching them can mean adventure. What is forbidden is forbidden for a reason.
The fine scent of sea, and the less fine smell of the fish… isn’t there something else smelling, too?
Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone.
This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably "in love" with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love.
If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to "ends of the earth and back" to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the "new lover" if and when they find him or her.