Following the conclusion of the Human Genome Project, and the 2nd Human Genome project, it was just a matter of time and funding before human cloning not only became possible, but a profitable
“There’s another reason they call it the chain of command you know.” –Riley, recalling his military training.
“Because they tie you in chains if you don’t obey it?” –Renee, taking a wild guess.
“Because the lives of everyone under your command weighs like a ball and chain around your neck.” –Riley, remembering the troops who looked to him for leadership in the Gulf war.
“In light of this whole zombie plague I’m thinking they’re going to have to redefine R.I.P to Rise in Putrescence.” –Riley, recalling the usual gravestone markings.
“How about Rot In Pieces?” –Jessy, proving acronyms can mean whatever the reader intends.
A technique that craftsmen use for creating the masterpiece of their lives (100 word submisson)
A radical terrorist organization bent on world dominance, willing to use blackmail, revolution, anarchy and military action to achieve their goals.
"Bah, dere be no such thing as no 'peripheral beast'. How can their exist a creature you canno' even look at?"
Torax Shieldbreaker, Dwarven explorer
“I can’t help but wonder if this whole undead business is restricted to humans or if it affects animals too.” –Riley, pondering the effects of The Wave.
“You do know humans are just another animal in the grand scheme of evolution right?" –Renee, showing off her intellect yet again.
“Ssh! Not so loud, you might tempt fate into having us find out!” -Heather, displaying an unusually superstitious fear of fate. (And of tempting the GM)
“Thomas Baker? An interesting name for a Bakery store owner.” –Heather, musing over their new acquaintances name.
“Back in the day it was common for people to have last names based on their profession. Smith would be a blacksmith, Carpenter a woodworker, and so forth." –Renee, showing off her intellect.
“If that’s true, then what about John Hancock?” Jessy, being a dirty old man, like usual.
Because, after a while, even the oldest adventurer will need a place to settle as he grows tired.
The great Wall Mounts have been scaled, or your ship's technology has reached a level in which it is possible to cross the oceans. And when the PCs or NPCs find other people, unknown people, what happens? Carnage.
Inns and taverns give everyday citizens somewhere to go to relieve the stress of a hard day, to meet with friends, and to get stinking drunk.
Also known as "The Ravager," Chimera Prototype Mk-XXIII is an example of man's hubris. What was supposed to benefit the last bastions of wealth and power in a dying world has become an unstoppable force of destruction.
The sun rises over the city. The great skyscraper's silhouettes from the fresh beams appear almost golden. The city is waking up, with the morning's half asleep citizens going about their daily routines. Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts open up, and revel in the influx of business. People head to work. The clocktower chimes, signaling the time of 9:00. But then a great shadow blocks out the sun. And the citizens of this metropolis start to scream as they are lifted up bodily by these beasts. An hour full of terror and screams goes by. And then another. And when the clocktower chimes again, signaling the time of 11:00, no one heard it. They had all been carried away. There were no flaming wrecks, nor collapsed buildings, as any other giant monster would leave. Simply empty streets, and a forbidding silence.
Each town has a House of the King. This is the main one, and by far the largest, set in the heart of the capitol's temple district.
Armour should not just be for protection. It should tell a story, your story!
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"Aye, lad, the Great Tree- its got a branch in each world, and each branch is a world. If one were to find the place this world, this branch, met the main trunk, like I did, they could go to them other worlds. 'Course, you'd be some kinda poison, or, or, disease to the Tree, and that damn tree got one hell of an immune system. When me an' me buddies entered her trunk, she put up one hell of a fight. We fought for hours through every protection system she had, and all to get lost is this world fulla strange elves who glamoured us, trying to keep us as pets. We barely got back." -Old Gerald, man in the pub
Borrowed shamelessly from Norse mythology (see Yggdrassil, the World Tree), the Great Tree both connects and is worlds.