If you had writing as bad as Corran's, you'd look for a way around it too.
What once existed is now shards of reality, floating in the sea of conflict...
Even the most despicable and evil Tyrant will be convinced they pale in comparison to this monstrosity.
"This sword! It's helping me connect all the dots!"
"Yeah, even the dots that don't exist!"
Despite becoming the god of creation later in life, Corran was renowned as being a master craftsman first, and possibly the worst cook to ever live second. This cooking set changed all that.
Named for Corran, the epitome of artificers and craftsmen; the flame of creation is often too powerful to control.
"I was out on that lake for a good eight hours trying to dreg up that seaweed, and boy did I get burned."
As Corran spoke, his walking stick started to glow, suddenly erupting flames over his left foot.
"What do you mean I changed clothes?"
"Sir- did you steal that cloak"
"Of course not! Haven’t you seen fabric change color before?"
A society in which people believe that the hundreds of stars that dot the sky are the dreams of the sleeping. When the sun goes down, and the people of the world rest, the dreams begin to seed the sky, disappearing in the morning as the populace awakes once more. It could be just a folk tale, or it could be real...