Proper redo of my 4D Construct of adventuring parties. Usable in any genre you are willing to introduce the concept of 4D beings.
Nerve Stapling is considered a vile and barbaric act, the orbital lobotomy of the Cosmic Era.
Love. Hate. Lust. Pride. Greed. Many are the emotions that can inflame the human heart, and of the brightest and strongest of all of these is born, Atarkhul Prince of Passion.
An explanation of gods; what they are, where they come from, how their power works, how they affect mortal life. Part of my main setting, first introduced in Primal Essence, Primals, and the Creation of the Realms.
"De Kanaar folk tink all dere gods and medicines are secret. But I live in dese marshes long enough to hear dere gods, whether pointy-ear folk like it or not. I can hear dere comin's and goin's, an' I can make dem see you or skip you as you like."
- Tonis, hillaq of Rakart Village
"And Lo; today Alea Waxes, and she shall blesses us. For soon a great change is upon us, for soon our beliefs shall be hallowed! We as a group, we as a people, we as a religion, shall be acknowledged. Our efforts shall no longer be in vain!"
--The Prophet John, Sermon to the Capitol
Patron deity of the Cult of Done, Othamm is always working to counter Mathom's influence.
"What a pretty place momma." "Yes it was made by the Divine One Chrysani as she died."
Commoners in the Goddess Forest
"Checkmate." The crowd looked with awe. The best player in the world beaten second turn. How was it possible.
Hizeel playing chess champion in the 3rd century
"Kolou, oh mighty Divine One I ask of thee to grant me strength in the upcoming battle. To have the strength to stare fear in the eyes and charge courageously into battle."
100-word Placeholder God submission no 2
A 100-word submission about a Placeholder God
When Vegma, Judge of the Dead, was called away to witness Mathom's trial, he left Slys in charge of the recently deceased. Intended as a simple placeholder, she has come to be something more.
That very special day when the people try to use up all of the most horrible deaths for the coming year.
A sampling of 30 gods, separated into pantheons.
A fairly blunt, systemic look at The Shattering. For flowery prose, look elsewhere ;)
Death and Resurrection
Life is commonly difficult, especially for those who choose a life of hardship and adventurous excitement. The cycle of life is never ending and continues its birth, life, death cycle for everyone. With divine aid and assistance, however, at times it can extend this cycle greatly, even halting it for a time. Death is different among nearly all game settings. Please read this with the understanding that it may not fit your particular game setting and style, but is an alternative.
"Fear not this new night, my brothers, the terrors of an everlasting darkness are as nothing when compared to the darkness in Man's heart. For, who among you knows what Man might do when Hunger sleeps in his bed and Famine is his child's only playmate?" --Prelude
A Totemos is a spirit or little god strongly associated with a human group, organization, or urban location.
Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat.
Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the “Ash-Wind” comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.