In which more methods are expounded by which one may refine a dungeon to more sublime levels of confusion.
This isn't nonsense--this is logic!
I try to avoid them if I can. I see them sometimes herding their flocks of flabby grey creatures into and out of Boston harbor, and it always gives me the chills. Briano tells me that they brought me back to life, but I can't remember it. I can't remember a lot of stuff. He also tells me that I was good friends with one of them once. One of the ones that begs outside of Grand Island Bank for nickels or blood. I can't tell you why I'm uncomfortable around them. They're just fish.
Troth Glenbeard was a dwarf with a mission. And that was destruction.
From there, things happened. And the Irondeeps got a Subterranean-Transport-System-That-Moves-Things-Around-Faster-Than-Equine-Means (aka, in modern-speak, a subway).
Ah, you are awake now I see. Wondrous news. I realized that you have no idea what is transpiring so I will be blunt so you may understand it. It is rumored that you are one of the best jewelers and metalsmiths in the region and for that you are lucky enough to have been chosen to create an item that will change the world. And afterwards, you shall be set free. My word on it.
We were crossing a ridge when Corgan was lifted off the ground by something. "Shoot it! Shoot the tyrannosaur!" he screamed as blood streamed from the puncture wounds that had opened up in belly. I fired into the empty space above him to no effect. Then Corgan's ragged corpse dropped to the forest floor, and I was alone. Utterly alone. There was no dinosaur. There was nothing.
Stuff happened. Now I have plotting to do.
An unassuming sewing needle, five to six inches long. Certainly nothing out of the ordinary.
Watcher comes now. It comes to set me free
Of its curse of dark and emptiness and endless misery.
Those who turn from the light and find themselves entranced by the lure of necromantic power would heed well the tale of Ilken Lillett; A testament to the sacrifices which must be made to attain such power.
"She sails up'n'down the Tristis River. All them river folk see her an' give her a wide berth. Superstitious lot, them river folk. 'Course, we adventurers kill of monstrous superstitions of the rich type on a daily basis! Who're we ta judge? So's anyways, she is said to only appear when the moon is full and the werewolves howl. And though she's ne'er violent, you can always 'ear a moanin' sound. I got no idea what's aboard that ship, but whate'er it is, I want nothin' to do with it."
-Old Gerald, man in the pub
The UCC is a medium sized corporation that is slowly but surely growing to become a global powerhouse. It is deeply invested in legal, paramilitary, and criminal activities, and is composed entirely of clones.
The ki-yah and woooooOOOOOoooooo
100 word challenge #3
100 word challenge #2
100 word challange
Elven prison sentences even for small offenses seem very long to humans, but this is not because their rulers are draconian, but because elves live so long that a six year sentence, for example, is like a six week one in human terms.Humans in Elven countries are well advised to behave themselves