The Court Away From Court
Most of the other old men I talk to about life discuss defining days that separated their lives into a before and after. My life does not have any such days, no single event changed the way I lived my life. This life of mine is one unbroken field, different crops have been planted and reaped, but the ground has remained the same. There is one day though that scars that field like a stump or stone that cannot be plowed under. I have spent many seasons pondering that day, but have never found a comfortable place for it.
What is arcanotech? It's breaking the laws of physics for fun and profit.
30 Arrows for your PC with a bow to have in his or her quiver.
Often PCs get on the wrong side of powerful users of magic or break into enchanted tombs, either may get them on the wrong side of a curse.
The confessions of an unlucky A.I.
Known fully as 'Nind Vel'uss Tahcaluss whol nind ehmtu siltrin' or 'They Who Hunger for Their Own Flesh'
Also known as the Mobile Turret, Mobile Fortress, Battleship Tank and Mobile Bunker
In the Cosmic Era, the Cosmetologist is a highly skilled geneticist, and they are consulted on everything from hair remedies to exotic full body alterations.
Log: Encounter 45, London Arcoplex
Classification: Keter, magnitude 3
Type: Extradimensional Manifestation
Whilst royal courts tend to be like each other in some ways, they can also be very different in other ways. Some may be places of fun where banquets and masked balls are common, whilst others are unpleasant or even dangerous and the nobility only attend because they have to.
The Destroyer Type, or Destroyer Pattern tank evolved in the Resource wars as a method of increasing offensive potential in vehicles with short projected battlefield life expectancies.
A tall lanky man with a distracted air, well versed in arcanotechnology, parapsychology, and a collector of molds, spores, and fungus.
"Dat woman... She was terrible to behold. Terrible but beautiful. She sat on a great throne, surrounded by her gatorfolk servants. She stood and she looked mighty angry. She look down at me an' Tergryn an' de rest, and she yell in some strange tongue - de elf-folk, I tink. She had a fury in her soul, an' I could feel her evil eye on me. Doric - hui, poor Doric! - she had 'er gatorfolk slash his belly wit' his claws and tore out his entrails. De gobbled dem up... Poor Doric..."
- Jorif Grisold, survivor
She is the high priestess of Jampiri, the outcast of the Kanaar, the guardian of the gatorfolk. Swynmoor's resident witch is powerful and knowledgeable, keeping the natural balance in the swamps.
A dossier of Mortal Kombat characters adapted to the Cosmic Era Setting
Many, perhaps most fantasy lands are monarchies, which can be ruled well when the monarch is a clever and able man or woman devoted to his or her people. But what happens when the monarch is ill, or is tyrannically cruel, or a young child, or is otherwise blatantly unfit to rule? How can he or she be dealt with without risking civil war as powerful nobles fight for the crown?
A systemic power during the galactic war
"What do you mean the vault is empty?!"
"Just that, sir. It's empty."
"There was a half tonne of gold coins in there! Did you see a cart? Any orcs or ogres? A dragon?! It's not like it just got up and walked away!"
The desert is like the sea, the sands shift ebb and flow and with them so does life. The tide is in ebb, and Xen'da'rik is dying.
Ostensibly but a rock, a chunk of metal, it has one extraordinary use: randomly, the Igneus Saxum issue flames.
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?