Each new home prides itself on its idol and as each new home receives its idol, the power within them grows, glows and connects. ...They are the bringers of wonderment and gifts but little do the townsfolk know, for the Shithiran are the takers of everything.
Destroyer of Dynasties, Killer of Kings, Bane of Broods, Curse of the Ruling Elite!
It is a personal journal tucked away in an library. It appears as an ordinary journal or diary from the outside and inside. In the spine or binding there is always a tiny strip of metal that other components and symbols are attached. Yet there is more, if you read carefully.
“It is your move.”
Being alligned with Evil does tend to make the afterlife a little less appealing. Unless one can somehow claw their way up the heirarchy immediately, one should be looking towards a long, long, long, time of torture and servitude to greater spirits, before any chance of reincarnation will occur. One of the first things Smart Evil Cultists and Priests learn is how to avoid final death.
Note From MoonHunter: I finally found the one piece we have been missing from the Garage Sale from Hell thread this entire time. A magic item that every covert Evil Cultist and Demon worshiper must have… a lucky piece.
The ring was an item he was always wearing; innocuous enough that no one would question it. It became his perfect tool of power.
It is a popular view amongst magic-users, that most members of the Cult of Malidon are just bitter people, blaming magic for their private losses and defeats, often seeking to silence some other qualms with burning witches. For one low cultist at least, this view is completely wrong…
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman