" As long Mriulnarth still stand, damnation will always occur "
- Emperor Averemarn I
A tiny marble cherry with an amber heart inlaid. One of the Lolliful Avenger's most devastatingly effective weapons.
If they said Mriulnarth is the Heart of the Demons, then Ashantar is the Beacon of Hope for all humans...
Felim collapsed into the snow, exhausted. It felt like it would be the last fall this time, his limbs stiffening and flesh numb. The adventurer had heard of natives that thrived out here, men who slew bears and made coats of seal fur. But who could build anything out here...?
Just as he felt light start to fade, Felim cast his gaze up to see the sky one last time. He was startled - or would have been, if his body had the energy - to see a furred hood and a leathery face with a toothless grin. "Ho there, brother!" it spoke. "You came to just the right place."
Late is the hour, dark the night. Clouds blanket out the moon and stars. A lone figure is seen slipping out of the forest and onto the main road leading into the village, in search of it's doctor.
A basic history of the continent of Atheus.
"Bristlebane ale. Tall."
Mathus looked up. He didn't recognize the man ordering, but he seemed the type: muscles beneath a layer of fat, a snarling expression with most of his teeth missing, fists like summer hams. "You want it in a bottle?"
"From the tap."
Mathus nodded. "This way," he said, stepping from behind the bar and into the back room, the "customer" following.
A fresh-faced young man sitting at the bar looked around, confused. "Bristlebane? Sounds adventurous."
"You couldn't handle it, son," an older man said from across the plank bar with a hint of derision. "It'd right kick your ass."
A description of the geography of Atreus. This sub will also be an umbrella sub for all the coming Atreus subs.
Combat heavy sessions make for short summaries
"Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying." -- Arthur C. Clark
Six powerful substances as described by Hachnar the Alchemist
The gnome hefts the giant tome situated on his back and then pushes his round spectacles up his protruding nose. He rubs the tip of his nose, knowing that he should really stop studying with his face so close to the books. The skin would sometimes rub off the tip during long hours of recording and study. Specks were moving on down the road, and he produces a spyglass from a loop on his hip. Through the lens, he spots a group of adventurers. He grins from ear-to-ear and gives a hoot, almost losing his balance due to the weight of the book on his back.
"These fellows look like they have purpose! It's time to find out what they're up to!"
Light personal armor worn in the Cosmic Era, the intermediate between flak jackets and ballistic plate and full powered combat armor
A charming but withdrawn noble who goes out and kills people in the name of The Locust at night.
Sadly, the first night my Antagonistic Player is around to play, inter-player drama throws things off causing a slog of a session where almost nothing got accomplished.
A thankfully rare mineral that burn's one skin as if the Devil himself had spit on you
New Submissions
Born to King John XVII, Hope did not get standard princess treatment. Yes, she was locked away in a tower, and yes, there was the standard moat of flaming lava, but unlike all the other spoiled brats, she didn't get a dragon. Hope Rexian had to make do with a demon. And this particular demon couldn't even breathe fire! Simply pathetic job done by the cosmos. Hope may have gotten the valiant-knight-who-happens-to-be-called-Prince-Charming-riding-in-and-killing-guardian-on-noble-steed treatment, but some things just won't do. You can't just mess with tradition like that!