101) The Cult of Nintendo- A cult dedicated to seeking out anient relics of a bygone-age known as "video games" and building their skill with them. Members of the cult (known as The sons of Mario for the menfolk and Daughters of Peach for the women) spend much of their days playing the the cults ample library of video games, seeking out new video-games and other relics, and learning of past conflicts in video-game history (of particular interest was the battle between Nintendo and Sega)
102) The Zygomatic Order- A bizare cult, who teach that fungus is the paragon of life and all life but fungus will die out in the near future. To avoid this, members of the order "Join the fungus", promoting fungal growth in their bodies. While either grotesque or eerily beutiful the apearance of cult members ranges from "slightly moldy" to "overgrown with fungus" to the extreme "Giant ambulatory fungus". The Zygomatic Order worship a wise entity known as Grandfather Fungus, a sagacious figure, who generously shares his "children" (fungi) with the world Go to Comment
First rolled by a fellow of mixed orcish heritage, whom only the most charitable would EVER refer to as a "wizard", known as The Lowly Scrumbog, a mage who lived at the edge of a vast swamp. Scrumbog liked a good smoke but disdained the overly light tobaccos and pipeweeds available. So, he spent several years experimenting with diferent mixtures of weeds. Scrumbog finaly came upon a mixture of corpseweed, wrapped in dried scum-cabbage leaves and tried smoking it but despaired because it just wasn't satisfying. In a fit of pique he tossed the still lit cigar into an ashtray and threw a clod of mud at it. When the scent of the burning swamp mud and foul dried plants reached Scrumbog's nose, his blood-shot eyes lit up! This was the mixture he had been looking for! He rushed to his lab, and a few day's later "Scrumbog's Stogies" were ready. He invited a few of his cigar afacianado friends over for the big unveiling, and within minutes most ran from the house, eyes tearing and red and gasping fror air. The few that remained (Mostly Orcs and an ogre or two who enjoyed a "robust" smoke) took several cases with them to share and the legend of "Scrumbog's Stinkers" was born. Smoking a "Stinker" has been likened to brething smoke from wet, burning leaves and hot tar. They produce a thick cloying, heavy smoke that no amount of air seems to dispell, just sitting in one place for days like an angry cloud. Any breathing this smoke who is not accustomed to it, is reduced to a coughing, blinded wretch, untill she finds fresh air. Go to Comment
Usually far to light, airy, and fragrant for anyone but an elf, most smokers don't consider these rolled up bundles of dried forest herbs, flowers, and berries (most notably those the rare, luminescent, lightshade plant which grows only in the heart of the most primeval forests) Cigars at all. These "cigars" are savored with rare elven wines by the learned and wealthy of elven and ocasionally human or halfling society. Rather than smoke, burning elf-lights produce a luminescent greenish vapor that illuminates an area of 10' around the smoker with dim "fairy light". It should be noted that that the lightshade plant has psychotropic sap and berries, and smoking too many of them or breathing too much vapor causes bizarre and vivid halucinations Go to Comment
Metheven Corin is a seller of rare magical reagents, doo-dads, wotnots, components, tchotchkas and incedentals (and an accomplished con-artist and snake-oil man). The small wood and canvas stall which makes up his shop is cramed with racks of necklaces and pendants (dubious magical items) hundreds of botles of "magical potions" and "miracle cure-alls" (mostly colored vinegar) and dozens of crystals, skulls, daggers, and "wands" (usually nothing but sticks with a lie bit of fairy dust sprinkled on it and a fake gem glued to the end) Metheven is not a wizard (he is actually a thief who talks verry fast) and sells his wares mosly to gullible "average people" , but adventurers are usually to smart for Metheven's tricks. If one looks hard enough, somone could actualy find a magical item amongst all the junk, but you realy have to dig for it. Metheven is a man of average build and height, in his early thirties, with straw-colored hair that he keeps short, a goatee and brown eyes. He usually wears ostentatious wizardly robes decorated with golden astrological or alchemical symbols. He can usually be heared hawking his wares and their "Amazing mystical properties" at the top of his voice Go to Comment
Far out, It's like your looking into my brain, or our minds are connected or something. I've been using "Suplimental spell components" as far back as I've been running D+D, which add a cosmetic (as well as minor mechanical) change. For example, the aformentioned pinch of copper dust added to a Fireball spell no only turns the blast blue-green, it also makes the fire do a few extra points of damage (Because copper actually burns very hot) while a dead-fish added to the mix might leave a terrible, nauseating smell in the blast's wake, and a human skull carved with necromantic runes might turn the flames black, and do more damage to the living while leaving the dead, undead and unliving unscathed. Also I'm sure to reward the players for creative use of components Go to Comment
A town has a festival every year in the dead of winter. The festival of birds. The towns folk dress in feathery robes and beaked masks and dance and frolic in the belief that the changes of the seasons are controlled by the presence of birds. According to tradition, the festival tricks Spring into coming early because the birds have returned.