The Fleabirds are a group of people indigenous to North America who have rejected the collectivism and sedentary lifestyle inherent in the Cosmic Era. Rather than living in the gleaming arcologies, steaming geofronts, or the great heaps of the urban rims and favelas. Rather, they live in caravans that travel the countryside of the continent.
the three pillars of robots
Come you Masters of War...Thirty generals, some of them effective and popular with their men, others anything but.
There are three things, each sacred and bearded: Moon, Monks, and Moss. All connected. Tied together by the Monks of the Bearded Moon, an old order of healers, mystics, bearers of the secret knowledge, and inheritors of the Bearded Moon's gifts. Theirs is a sect full of mystery and bound by ritual.
Voting in the Citadel, Thoughts?
When S.I.E.G. Just is not strong enough, upgrade to S.I.E.G.E!
The plague of the Petroleum Era, the true bane of organized government
When your in trouble and need a quick escape, S.I.E.G. IT !!
In the Cosmic Era, the proliferation of arcanotech, cyborgs, robots, parapsychic threats, black market weapons, new illegal drugs constantly hitting the market, all backed up by large organized criminal syndicates, the average police officer doesn't stand a chance.
Few know the secret behind the Flying Monks of Ka-zin is not entirely due to their remarkable skill at acrobatics, but also in the colorful belts they wore.
The first Renaissance was kickstarted by the Crusades and trade, the second Renaissance was fueled by a looming global crisis and international cooperation
An elfin warrior from a fallen house.
Wild beasts of the imagination — untamed spirits of the quick and unfettered waters of this world. These steeds of the fast-flowing rivers are never to be captured, never to be controlled; to stop is to die — to be stopped is to be turned to droplets which return to the fast-flowing waters. Yet, while free they are things of pure beauty; mystical bringers of the gods' good will.
Come! Enter into the safe haven beneath the seas! Where humanity fled from the deadly Kalleum bombs! Take Refuge Beneath the Waves.
Made for a brave adventurer by a spurned lover, every chain was lovingly crafted with iron and locks of her hair. The finished armor was polished with tears and blood till her final days...
BEWARE all who dare wear this chainmail...
Also known as Moon the Loon, Goon Beard, and Who?
The most influential event in Atheus is the Year of the Exile. It set up the division of the world into east and west, the human's side and the barbarian's side, respectively. But how did it actually happen? How did one race manage the incredible feat of the exile of four other races?
An open room lay before them, occupied only by a few cobwebs and dust. Upon entering, a phrase is seen on one wall. One of them utters the phrase out of wonder for its meaning, unknowingly activating the room. An eye opens on the wall in front of the poor souls and with a quick flash of light, the last thing heard from the room is heart retching screams... then silence.
"They're many names given to the things of this vast consciousness that we don't understand, are afraid of, or otherwise just don't want to be associated with. These creatures, though familiar in appearance to many common races, have no name for themselves, but have been appropriately named "Concordare Iram", Translated: Harmonized Rage."
A PC Conjurer or summoner, basically any mage whose sole purpose in life is summoning creatures to aid in battles and various situations, is cursed with a hex, and needs to find a way to undo the curse...before he goes mad, or his fellow PCs throw him out of the party, or worse.
Everything he/she summons, never goes away. So you'll have to figure out what the heck to do with that dire bear or fire elemental once it's done fighting the orcs for you. Eventually a caravan of bizarre creatures either annoyingly ends up following the summoner around, or they go off to cause mayhem elsewhere. Bad news for the poor spell-caster regardless.