Luck Points are Fate's way of showing interest in the PC's, and the GM's way of rewarding the players.
The vast majority of parapsychic powers do NOT manifest as freeform pyrokinesis or rotating thunder kicks.
An uncommon, but visually dramatic body modification in the Cosmic era
A technique that craftsmen use for creating the masterpiece of their lives (100 word submisson)
Aetherball: the only sport with a PSI rating.
Given the difference between fantasy and sci fie subs, I am proposing a voluntary Rating system
A dice game of secrecy and side bets where even the looser can win.
Steamery is a type of learning, like Magery and Lettery (Magic of Written words, Scholarly works), akin to Alchemy which combined elements of the two. It is considered a type of magic, the use of the four basic elements to produce “magical” power.
Hathalfar holds the writhing troll down with his gloved fist and sword. The beast squirms at the touch of metal. “How far is Kolm?” he demands for the third time. “I said! A long way away,” replies the troll.
The measurements on Arth center around The Emperor and the Imperium. The Imperium imposes certain standards upon its subjects to make communication and trade between areas easier. Some of the most important was how much each coin was worth (and its basic size), the common language (imperial-low and high), and a system of measures.
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.