The Sea hides many secrets in its depths, here are 30.
A bag of enchanted beans. Dare you plant them?
Lightning steel is a miraculous metal formed from an alloy of iron, carbon, silver and pure captured lightning.
The Black Leviathan from the eastern sea is a greater hazard in legend then in fact, as it only infrequently preys upon man. At least, as far as can be told, for many are taken by the sea with no record of their passing.
It was said that the King fell from grace so abruptly that the earth opened up beneath his citadel so he could fall for eternity. This is exactly what happened...
Down it falls, a great concentric castle of dark stone. Cracked and broken, though upright, pieces large and small fall together in concert, frequently dashing against each other, or drawing apart to create wide gulfs to expose the hungry blackness below.
And in this tumbling castle, there sits a king, his head heavy with his crown, his hands clutching his throne in unending terror.
"Cities in the deep? I've never heard such foolishness. A talking lobster? Rubbish!"
"Thandrar was seeing red, the frustration was building as he traded blow after blow with his enemy. Their blade lashed out and drew blood, but instead of weakening Thandrar, he was energized - the last straw! His pent up rage and frustration peaked and he smote his foe with such force as to bisect the fool, bathing himself, his blade and the floor in blood and gore."
A cool, Northern land, populated by the strange Maskenfolk
The author's quips and comments on making the most of your first submission
"That one, you might want to be careful with that. It doesn't like people..."
"A potion? "
Cold, mystic master manipulators.
Got a 30? Want a Generator? Read on!
Want to build a generator? Here's how!
Instrument or Monument? These blur that line.
Few know the secret behind the Flying Monks of Ka-zin is not entirely due to their remarkable skill at acrobatics, but also in the colorful belts they wore.
The product of the Entwiner’s art, this net is carefully crafted with nearly invisible knots in its fine mesh. These knots speak in the language of Entwining Magic, the words of keeping and holding.
They came upon us suddenly, no sound preceding them until the splashing of their feet drew our eyes towards them. The wolf-things neither howled or snarled as they tore into our ranks.
A Sundered Realm, flotsam of a world.
Magic that really gets under your skin.
Could come across a band of refugees. Could have been thrown out of their town by a tyrant taking of their land, bought out by somebody unexpectedly, fleeing a battle they know is coming their way. Could be proof of what they are searching for, hints and tips of what is to come, or just to broaden the reality of the world.