Shout box spawn
Freetext Friday "Shadow"
Cosmic Era: Yuna of Final Fantasy X
Thirty more nasty, notorious Necromancers to disturb the eternal rest of the Dead.
100 word Dragonmax's Freetext Friday
The bow is a highly intelligent weapon, with memories and plans. The wielder of the bow is a brainless zombie, who is still perfectly capable of wielding the weapon. Together, they're an NPC.
"By the Winter of 182 AR, Emperor Vezimmir's rule in Tiberia was almost complete. With shrewd diplomacy and ruthless military insight, he had decimated the Eturian Empire by first breaking a deal with Rollo, Warlord of the Vesi, to invade Datia. Most of Eturia's armies were off West fighting the Adamantians alongside the Drysians. However, to ensure that Datia never received aid from Eturia, Vezimmir orchestrated with the Reavers of Oskaria to descend upon Eturia's poorly defended coastal cities. It comes as no surprise that, with the fall of the Eturian Empire, her lands were in no shape to deny the Emperor's rule."
"Who would expect a commoner from a land that had once rejected the Son of the Light and the Holy Empire to become the next heir to the draconic essence of Traghen?"
William Dashaw, Lord Scribe to the Illyrian Court.
"I watched my family burn. I kill men with the tools of my father's trade. He created. I destroy. That is a gift the Light chose me to bear. Think well you before you pray to the Light for gifts."
Chosen of the Essence of Traghen, High Lord of Barbarus, Keeper of Sentinel, Wielder of the Soulhammer.
"Would you prefer I run my sword through your spine and leave you laying here for the wolves to gnaw upon or to just burn you alive with my magic? I would prefer to collect what I am after without the use of violence, but make no mistake I will kill you to remove this trinket from the hands of humanity."
~Halimath the Wanderer~
One of the preeminent occult scholars of the Cosmic Era, well versed in ancient mysteries, and one of the hidden masters manipulating the Cosmic Era.
Do me a favor, stay dead this time.
"Who would make such a thing?"
Jacob Latris was a Taurian immigrant to Obstaria. Now he is a man who has severed his connections to sanity long ago, and is searching for something that probably doesn't exist.
A young sorcerous vampire with a penchant for making zombies.
"Magic is like telling a lie," Calypso told his latest bunch of would-be apprentices. "It doesn't matter if it's real or not as long as everyone believes it."
Sometimes the old ways are best. A pivotal undead sorcerer.
There are some types of evil that are not easily recognizable as such. Much like the mountain-top ascetic or the cloistered saint, there is no obvious sign of the darkness that lurks inside Vodai.
All Maire wanted was to give her husband a child. She wasn't about to let death stand in the way.
"I will give man his threescore and ten, and then give him more. Death himself will fall before me."
In a small inn (the more remote the better), a man turns up dead. There are no wounds on his body what-so-ever, and he aboslutely reeks of garlic.
The man died of a curse that forced him to eat a clove of garlic a day or suffer the penalty. This gets really interesting if the body somehow appears on top of a someone the villagers are suspcious of.