“8 Ortio, 986 - At last, I’ve captured the amulet! I certainly could not have done it without the help of my unusual mercenary companion. He has very much impressed me with his skill. We encamp in Durath Woods for the night and make for Kharath in the morning.
9 Ortio, 986 - Amulet missing. So is Thaxen. No longer impressed with merc.”
-Sir Wardren Lank’s journal
A dashing Bard, who also happens to be a shared drug experience.
From the age of 15 he was trained to be a gladiator and for the next seven years he was, until he broke free in order to fight and defeat his capturers. For the past several years he has been waiting for that moment.
A voice as supple as silk, a face hidden in the shadows of a hood, yet the words she speaks are colder than the grave and burn more furiously than any inferno.
I believe I need to contemplate this further. However, I know that I can reach a proper solution that will resolve the issue. It will take a little time. Not too much mind you. But every piece must be contemplated in turn. Now if you would excuse me. Oh and if you could allow my Man to look around, I would greatly appreciate it.
Honor beyond death, duty beyond the grave. An eternity of damnation for an eternity of servitude.
Many who see him think he is a powerful, scary, and undead. Two out of three are correct.
The elven race epitomizes the most noble traits to be found among the children of the gods, in keeping with their mythic status as the first-born and most beloved of the creative forces that gave rise to our world.
So we poor benighted mortals guilessly believe,subjugated by the awe that holds us in thrall of these dazzling beings that exude perfection. But rob an elf of his exquisite beauty,and what do you see in the depths of his soul? Does the inside reflect the unflawed sublimity of the surface? Perhaps not…
“Where do they get those marvelous toys” you ask. The other hero smiles, “I guess you have not been hooked up.” He hands you a card.
Maker of Devices for the Discriminating Operative
Some cities have more spirit than others.
Psychic on Duty is all the aged red neon sign says in the storefront window. It is a small storefront and in a less than great section of town. You don’t expect much.
A mad doctor who dared defy the laws of the natural order, to transcend death itself, and the creature he created.
“Come in, come in. I knew you were coming.
How did I know? Your brother told me.
Yes, yes I know your brother died in the war several years ago, he has told me all about it.”
All know that Elves cannot die, and that Men do. All know that Men go unto the Underworld upon their death, and that the Elves retire unto the Spiritual Elysium. Yet in the Great Scheme, where goes the one with one foot in the Underworld, and one foot in the Realm of Spirit?
When one cannot die, obsession with death is such a natural thing.
...And then the evil necromancer killed everyone and made them into zombies to do really evil things. I mean really evil, kicking puppies, eating kittens and making lewd sexual gestures at unsuspecting shoppers at Wal-Mart. Yeah and he had a severed head for a hat and was eating a sandwich made out of real lady-fingers…
A healer of great power and kindness, she is rumored to even be able to heal the dead, if you can find her.
In my setting that is posted here called “The Kingdom of Orentia” the appointed ruler of the town of Thorpe is Griffin Orent. Griffin is actually the leader of a rather large group of bandits operating all over the kingdom. However, these are not your normal bandits…
All the good ones break off from the the guild.
Most established villages have their neighborhood hermit and Enders is no exception. If only the folks of Enders knew who they harbored, it may have been a very different story for old Noam.
Urbants-Creatures that move quickly around on their massive arms, and their "legs" dangle about from their torso, at about elbow length. They can move fairly quickly, but not as fast as an obese human, and can "jump" fairly high. Their "legs" are very powerful, and can kill with one blow. The bad thing is, Urbants cannot block attacks at their heads, which have relatively no neck, from the length of their legs being so short.