“Top, my name is Brock Figglewater, I knew your aunt. I tap a piece of pillow that belonged to your aunt, and I jump belongs to you now. You see, I just bought this Stimech, and I jump it was stolen by a bruce named Horace. Horace was a pream tattle of mine. Three weeks ago, I let Horace take out my pream stimech to go bounce along the billibong looking for bubblely-bobs to bring to the spitter’s patch. Horace says he ran into some boom sauce and had to hop out of the stimech in just a tater sack. I cannot jump that Hoarace bounced 5 kims across the pillow in a tater sack. I have tapped spitter dops on the Big Under pillow for years, I ain’t no trainer. I ain’t rigged to swallow dry sand, and I washed Hoarace. But I need my stimech back, and I ain’t got the press to go all over the Big Under boiling Hoarce’s peals of truth. I need your help.”
A 100 word past time
One day a man named Koret claimed to realize what was wrong with humanity. Shortly after that he claimed to have figured out how to fix all the world problems, and he wrote down a series of commandments aimed at saving humanity from themselves. Over 500 years after his teachings were literally set into stone people are still talking about what he wrote, and some are even trying to follow it.
One of the side effects of the rampant cloning and genetic augmentation in the Cosmic Era is the slow emergence of genetic castes.
How does a culture measure time underground, without any sun? The dwarves have got it covered.
30 wierd, wonderful and wacky wedding customs for your worlds.
What most people call aliens and monsters are usually extra-dimensional creatures.
Time is measured for most by the events that are both constant and special. "How many Christmas's ago was that?" It should be no different for Halflings.
A twisted zombiepocalypse creates a new holiday season.
Black Christmas started on Dec 24, sunset in London, UK. It is the when the Grinches first attacked… and The Elfs came to Humanity’s rescue.
“If you are going to live in the Warren, you need to live by The Rules,” The Edge said.
“I can follow the Ward Rules as good as anyone,” the Green Ryder said.
He waves dismissively. “Those are not the rules I speak of. I speak of the ones that make you more than just another fool with a dragon mount. I speak of the ones that make you a True Ryder.”
Right after the 1000 years of human prosperity, it all suddenly came crashing down. Mortals became cocky with the returned use of magic. They were soon tested with the arrival of Dubaku’s children. While he was long lost to history, his children finally awoke.
With nearly 1000 years of there being an absence of the Gods that fell in the war of the Gods, things began to change. No one knows why but a shift in the politics of the Gods came to startling events.
The second era started off in better light than the 1st era ended. For almost 500 years there was a rebuilding going on with the Gison, continued growth for the Olwynn, and understanding with the Derevo about the different factions in their families. Like all things, this time had come to and end.
This thread is for the development of rangerspeak, the dialect of the mountain rangers who guard the passes, known as munnum to those who hear it, for its resemblance to a mumbling noise…
In the early days of Hewdamia, the Gods squabbled over the world and took what they could from the each other. There was little here but water and soil, yet the Three Gods fought over it still. The arrival of the newer Gods marked a turning point in the world as well as the Gods. The arrival marked the beginning of a war that wouldn’t see the first blow for centuries.
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...