An explanation of souls, spirits, and what happens after death. Part of my main setting, first introduced in Primal Essence, Primals, and the Creation of the Realms.
An origin story for the main setting I build in. There are aspects missing, and certain things need proper names. In addition, there are related topics I'll write about in other, related submissions, and the whole setting has a 'phase 2' (or sequel setting) in a hypothetical future where certain, massively world-changing events take place. I'll list related submissions at the bottom, as clickable links.
A city of immense wealth, stark poverty, violent crime, and cyclopean architecture
The town of Silverfox Mill was a quiet place for many years, but this peaceful town has begun to unravel. The arrival of the Usury Guild drained the populace of their livelihood, forcing many into poverty, alcoholism, and prostitution. Complicating this trying time the town has recently lost its most beloved citizen, the wizard Osric Skanderbag. With his absence it seems the long-dead witch Anna has been raised to murder and poison, but this may be a front for more contemporary threats.
The ruined city of Oldport, destroyed nearly 200 years ago during a violent raid from the sea. During the day, a desolated skeleton of what once a thriving port city. During the night, magical splendor causes the city to regain its former glory and the dead rise to continue their lives.
My take on Batman's home town
scope is heavily aimed at Gang War
Special Thanx to Silveressa for "pushing" me into this and editorial help and to Scrasamax, for letting me use some of his Cosmic Era stuff
CULT OF DONE!!!!!!!!!!!
Enclosed in this document is the account of Mr. Johnathan Crewes, who was recently incarcerated in the Psychiatric Ward, of how he was driven insane. He shall be soon shipped to the St. Josephine Asylum for the Mentally Disturbed.
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.
Remember those cliché taverns the storyteller took you in a hurry? With the fat bartender who's just cleaning a mug as you enter? Yeah, none of those here...
Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
The mate was fixed by the bosun's pike
The bosun brained with a marlinspike
And cookey's throat was marked belike
It had been gripped by fingers ten;
And there they lay, all good dead men
Like break o'day in a boozing ken
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.
drawn from/inspired by Hellfire: the Summoning mobile game
In a time when synth-brewing and artificial concoctions are the norm, Burly Bill's Beautiful Beverages stands out amongst the gleaming storefronts with its dark oak frames around stained glass windows.
The octahedral space stations designed and built by the Atlantic Federation
A cool, Northern land, populated by the strange Maskenfolk
The Court Away From Court
Whilst royal courts tend to be like each other in some ways, they can also be very different in other ways. Some may be places of fun where banquets and masked balls are common, whilst others are unpleasant or even dangerous and the nobility only attend because they have to.
The desert is like the sea, the sands shift ebb and flow and with them so does life. The tide is in ebb, and Xen'da'rik is dying.
A wishing well is nothing more that a place to hope and dream. A token offering is given with the silly notion that the wish just might come true. But what happens when these wishes start to come true, on a regular basis?
"Get me the sugar!" called Jack's wife. His heart skipped a beat as he stood before the cabinet. Holding his breath, he slowly opened it.... Dangit! A baby!
The ruin that birthed a society; the Life and Times of a city in the throes of death.
A sword that stores the identity of the wielder. To transfuse the soul to the blade, one must first stab himself through the heart. The person will not die, but lose the freedom of the soul upon real death.