An Introduction and look at Pc's, plots, and plans
Instrument or Monument? These blur that line.
Barathra is quite simply the Land of the Dead, the Afterlife. It, simply put, defies the Atheians' expectations. After all, for most, it is Hell.
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 GNOMES OF UDNALOR: Part II
Having left the hush of the upper halls, and crossed the depths of the Braeth (an underground river, which is not all that deep because bear in mind we're talking about gnomes here), you would find yourself in Wattling Street, the main road through Udnalor. It's actually a long, well-worn passageway which opens out eventually into the City Centre. The gnome-buildings branch off Wattling Street as small burrows or caverns with boulder-blocked doorways for privacy. You can find armourers and smiths (though their armour tends to be on the small side for humans to buy) and many other types of trader.
There are many streets, ginnels and cooies which run off Wattling Street, the most famous probably being Smell Street, the domain of the infamous gnomish alchemists, the eponymous smell being very distinctive: the stench of cooking fungus, the aroma of subterranean spices, the pungent reek of rotting carcasses (used in some of the more notorious experiments). An encounter with an alchemist can really be spiced up (excuse the pun) if you have a well-stocked herb cupboard, and actually make up the potions, elixirs and draughts as they are ordered by characters.