The Gold Standard
Dead Zones are the cancerous pock marked ruins of the Petroleum Era, cities and urban sprawls long abandoned, quarantined or simply lost.
A city of immense wealth, stark poverty, violent crime, and cyclopean architecture
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!
A portmanteau of the words Architecture and Ecology, arcologies are megastructres that are built with an eye towards environmentally friendliness.
Some notable locations in the city.
A brief discussion of the prevailing level of technology in the city of Teleleli and the islands around.
"Are you crazy? There ain’t no such thing. It’s all fairy tales for the stupid and desperate. Even if it were, they all say it’s cursed or something. Get back to work."
Everytime you look at something in The City, there is something going on behind it. It is a moment caught in the tangles of time of some other persons life. It is those little moments that make The City seem so alive.
I am woman. Hear me roar!
30 Cities with their teeming multitudes and famous landmarks.
A rundown shop of old joys, now just a wreck, with a little touch of mystery.
A small village situated near a medium lake,with inhabitants and history that is more unique than one might expect. Suitable for any fantasy/low tech setting.
The headquarters of the WhoresÃ‚Â´ Guild
101 plug and play communities in 10 sub-categories
30 villages ready at the disposal of the Gamemaster.
A city large enough to contain kingdoms.
The villagers paid dearly after they slew the stuttering old crone!
Idea from the Aeneid. Could make an intriguing encounter when searching for firewood..."Quite near there happened to be a mound of earth, at the highest part of which were growing thickets of cornel and a dense cluster of spiky myrtle-stems. I went up there and tried to wrench the green growth from the ground to provide a leafy covering for our altar. There I was confronted by a horrible and astounding miracle. For from the first bush which I tried to break off...blood oozed in dark drops, fouling the earth with its spots...A piteous moan came from the base of the mound and I heard a human voice answering me: 'Why, Aeneas, must you rend a poor sufferer? I am buried here...for I am Polydorus. Here death overpowered me in a crop of piercing iron-pointed spears. And so a crop resembling javelins has grown over me...'"