The wind picked up to the point where it sounded like a chorus of a hundred howling banshees. Even deep in the cave, we all felt the temperature drop even further as the Chill Squall moved through; snatches of wind fingering in as if it was trying to pluck us out of our hole.
This is a test wiki sub. Feel free to edit and play with it. Lvl 3 and up should be able to directly edit the sub.
Request help. Check Strolen's and Pieh's XP and then HoH it and see if they both gained 5xp. Also, please vote on it and see if both their XP goes up. I can't vote on my own subs. ;)
“Swiftly, repent! The Saintmaker is coming!”
“The Armored Avenger is dead!"
"Look at him! He looks like hamburger, but his admantium armor is untouched! What could have done that?”
Classified as a category 4 threat, the Elib is somewhere between a vampire lord and Godzilla for limits of escalation. Yes, I would consider using a nuclear device to kill just one. I am that sure that I want it dead.
The young mountain sheep came charging up the trail and into the Meadow of the Elders, past the startled Elder-Guards, and stopped, panting and half incoherent. “Relax,” came a deep, amused voice in his mind. “Take a deep breath, and then share your thoughts with us.”
“Yes, Revered One.” He took the deep breath advised, then trotted forward and touched his head to that of the Elder.
The Ska'ag warrior lay in his hide, watching the intruders.
“The Makers,” he thought. It had been many generations since the last one had died, but there was no doubt. They were back. “I have to warn the People.”
When you want a horse, but not any horse will do. You don't want a Lord's horse, nor one fit for a King. You want a horse bred for a God.
Be careful of unearthing legends, however.
“So, you want to buy a horse?” the grizzled Catfolk horse-master said.
“Yes. I'd like to buy a battlesteed and I'll pay whatever you ask,” the human replied.
“No. We never sell the Little Brothers of the Clan. Find a regular horse instead.”
“But my Lord wants a battlesteed and ...”
The eyes came closer and with them came a growling sound, and the warrior swung at them with his sword. They flew around it, revealing themselves to be harmless insects. The warrior swore...it was no Cave Bear or Giant Spider but a pair of Eye Flies out looking for insects to eat that were smaller still.
"They used to be men. Mortal men. But now... I don't know if they are something more... Or something less?"
The poor boy.. Man, I mean. I tend to forget his age, given his appearance...
It's so cute!
Wait, why is it glowing?
Dwarven Undead with a hunger that won't be satiated by simply your blood, brains, or flesh.
The follow string of Mirror-folk evolutions, Mihradhz, Mihrral, and Mihradamagus, are collectively known as The Mirr. They are all curious and slightly annoying, each in their own way. They advance through their lives by pestering the rare mortals who visit their plane.
A warped and twisted, low-standing, tree covered in dark bark. It's wild, overgrown tangle of branches creep across the ground in a large circle. The entire thing is covered in a multitude of thorns that shift from a bright acidic green to a deep blood red.
Little imp-like creatures...that eat paper?!
Beautiful, crystalline beings...with an incompleteness inside...
The rotting ghoul sunk it's teeth into the girl's throat, tearing it open, and then laid her down, and as she died, so the rotting body that had murdered her ceased rotting. Milky white eyes became green ones with normal pupils. Maggots swarmed out of the body, the damage they caused healing rapidly,and the stench of flesh gone bad vanished. The Xarloccian swore to itself that it would always tread the path of Evil from now on, just one earlier act of Good had nearly rotted away it's body and sent it's soul to the Nine Hells.
As the PCs travel the road, right after a bend they hear a sharp whistle and call: "Heeey, not so lazy, move your asses!" It is a large man that calls, and there are unwilling workers that listen. A small company, 10-15 men work on the road, push boulders aside, dig up roots from under the road, etc. The large man that shouted turns to you, smiles fast and mutters something under his breath, sounds like cursing some lazy worker. "Where does the road bring you from, travellers?" And does a little small-talk.
And what is really happening? A group of bandits is 'adapting' the road for shady purposes. The road will not be wider, but tighter, with enough cover around (and a few traps perhaps), and will become an ideal spot for ambushing travellers or entire caravans. The bandit leader wants them all to appear harmless. The 'lazy worker' he cursed was actually a guard that should give warning before any travellers come around (fallen asleep). Not surprisingly, the boss may decide for an ambush even now.