This scroll is for posting monotheistic religions to be used in games.
Graves of a small, little known folk, exotic as dangerous.
The simple graves of a folk long gone, these are still favoured by graverobbers.
Of all the published roleplaying games, we have a huge number of fantasy games, a good number of sci-fi games, a smattering of modern and modern variation games, but very few of anything else. The Western is an Epic Genre in the bookstore. There are shelves and shelves of them, nearly as many as the science fiction section (minus Star Trek and Star Wars books). You would think it would be popular. There are only a piddling number of western games, and none are very successful.
Deep in the Ankorillian jungles grows the Corpse Flower. A dreaded plant that can entangle and poison you silently.
Hours later your companions notice your absence,
turn and search for you.
As they backtrack they unknowingly pass your last resting place.
A rather smelly, orange plant.
This is a list of laws, axioms, and strong recomendations from published and/or famous game designers/ writers I have recently collected. If you find them, add them. Please do not just add “any old” gamer’s axions, laws, etc.
Finghaart’s sausages hasn’t moved since its founding. For all its reknown, it is quite a poor neighborhood.
Gods for the Roman-themed nation of Imperial Arcturus.
The Grey District was once a prosperous inner district in The Hill City of Frankard. It is an erriely silent place now, where people make little in the way of noise or light. It’s district walls are now painted with a Grey Line, a warning as to plague. However, it is not the plague you would expect.
A spear that reflects the life of it’s owner trough small Haiku like poems. As the soldier lives his life the spear casts a shadow of his great exploits. Small runes are carefully etched in the ash shaft after a great battle or another important event in the warriors life.
The Cursed form of poor Shump Thokk. He will offer helpful advice to anyone who dons the helmet.
Bounded by the Stones surrounding the district, “Those of the Stones” bother no one. Unless someone is foolish enough to enter where no soul really belongs.
The Shield District is the old Orcen Mercenary Quarter. It is called the Shield District because Orcen always carried their shields. In terms of buildings, it looks the same as the rest of the town, perhaps a bit more run down. The signs are both in Orcen and the Local tongue. The only differences are The Pits.
The part of the body for the soul of the world has been corruped. Woe be to all.
-Wyyrrenek, GreenMan Father 1620
A family heirloom, worn by the son of a fisherman, that raised them out of squalor and into nobility. What is in a man’s heart that can not be corrupted? What can turn the untainted into rage? Pray to the God’s and you never know the outcome.
To fight the Evil, you must learn of The Evil, master its skills, know its techniques, and be able to use its tools. Only then can you train others to fight The Evil.
—Ilvantus of the Black Robes to the general floor at the Creedos Convocation 1137 DO
The religious assassins known as the revenants are some of the most effective killers in Midian.
Yesterday, new magic appeared upon your world. What happens next.
“Mass Produced Books” was one of the most important shift points in history. This one invention profoundly effected all aspects of life, not only locally, but eventually the entire world.
Let me just say I HATE DROW. The DnD anti-elves really annoy the heck out of me. They are annoying two hit die monsters. They have become hugely popular because of some well written DnD fiction books. Yet, they don’t make sense. So lets try again.
It seemed like a great place to camp. The clearing was good sized and sheltered from the wind. The brook just a few feet away. There is a natural hallow to keep the horses.
Then the night came.
It was like it became a different place. The temperature dropped. The wind, which does not seem to disturb cloth, almost cuts through you like an arctic wind. No one can sleep, as the soft ground has turned hard. The horses are uneasy. The Bats are flying over and stopping in the trees.
And then there is the eyes. There are glowing eyes just inside the tree line watching your group. The mages and clerics can detect nothing, but there is still something there.
(yet there is nothing at all... The Darkness will do nothing unless the players do something to it. And even then it will all seem to be a conincidence.)
Of course, in the morning, it all becomes sweet and light.