The world is populated by people. Hundreds, thousands, millions of people. Of those people, there tend to be the noble families that rise up and rule the ‘common’ person. However, of those noble families, there is a breed that rises up and above even the other nobles. These are the Hereditas, those who have the Blood of Divinity.
It is that most magical night, it is time for the Night Faire
Priests of the god of agriculture.
To the winds with memorizing spells and counting mana points.
The modern definition of festival has four parts: 1. a day or time of religious or other celebration, marked by feasting, ceremonies, or other observances: the festival of Christmas; a Roman festival. 2. a periodic commemoration, anniversary, or celebration: an annual strawberry festival. 3. a period or program of festive activities, cultural events, or entertainment: a music festival. 4. gaiety; revelry; merrymaking. In the later eras of the European Rennaissance (early modern) there was an additional meaning; 5. The marking of important events in the life of a princely dynasty, such as marriage, the birth or christening of an heir, a coronation or a funeral, or the traveling to a new country/ state/ city.
"He’s dead, Sir Paladin." "... What?" "Hens-bane, my Lord, a false tooth. Not even our best interrogators could get an answer from him now." "Bring the corpse to me. The veil of death will be pierced."
Dire Ape, I choose you!!!
The Hyperprojection Drive was perhaps the most revolutionary discovery in mankind’s history, enabling us to travel the stars.
Humans are very emotional beings, and feel things much more strongly than most other creatures. Sometimes, they feel things a little too strongly.
Everyone has a vision. If you have enough effort and resources, you can make it a reality.
Rotten piles of choss, that’s all that was left of the wizard’s tower, that’s it.
For want of a nail a horse was lost
For want of a horse a rider was lost
For want of a rider a message was lost
For want of a message a battle was lost
For want of a battle a kingdom was lost…
Which serves as a warning not to get on the wrong side of the God of Smalll Things.
Given the difference between fantasy and sci fie subs, I am proposing a voluntary Rating system
Not all magic is focused on war or power. Some magic is used to ease some of the hazards of normal life. The school of Midwifery is one such school.
The Zoimorph School of Magic is a school of magic specialized in altering and creating variants of life, sometimes referred to as Arcanaeugenics.
Pnathic sorcery has existed for ages, crudely used by magi who no idea the true forces they were fumbling with.
An article concerning the nature and role of druids in an RPG enviroment.
The lost art of the orcish drum has been rediscovered in the hands of Gromek of the Gripfang tribe.
"a new (scientific) truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die, and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it."
War is the biggest business of the future.
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.