Doing my homework for spy ops, psy ops, and intel gathering
Squishy tech for the Cosmic Era's behind closed doors
I have drawn a lot of inspiration from idle click and space exploration games, and some of these throw away phrases can very easily become revolutionary and cultural transformative things.
Youth passes quickly for this race of elves, though middle age lingers for millennia. They have no love for the forests or other natural places, preferring their carefully crafted and tended walled cities.
A collection of Ophidian weapons for your perusal.
Some times an unruly spell needs to be taught a lesson...
another unpublished story from ezine
....sometimes it's unpleasant to be a wizard......
30 plug and play angels, devis, yami, muses and avatars for the tech savvy player
The combat catalog of Cyberdyne Systems, the primary defense contractor of Cascadia.
A companion piece to my 30 Pocket Dimensions
Ildran is a cold blooded murderer who prefers fire over all other methods. He immolates his victims by trapping them inside wooden structures and then torching them. He is also meticulous about eliminating witnesses quickly and finally.
My take on Batman's home town
scope is heavily aimed at Gang War
Special Thanx to Silveressa for "pushing" me into this and editorial help and to Scrasamax, for letting me use some of his Cosmic Era stuff
CULT OF DONE!!!!!!!!!!!
The Sea hides many secrets in its depths, here are 30.
A bag of enchanted beans. Dare you plant them?
Aerospace Capitol Ships of the Atlantic Federation
The dark side of the ubiquitous skeletron, corrupted from within by it's own basic technology.
The Black Leviathan from the eastern sea is a greater hazard in legend then in fact, as it only infrequently preys upon man. At least, as far as can be told, for many are taken by the sea with no record of their passing.
Also known as Kaiju Spawn, Magna-parasites, angel-spawn, sin spawn, and a variety of other terms
It was said that the King fell from grace so abruptly that the earth opened up beneath his citadel so he could fall for eternity. This is exactly what happened...
Down it falls, a great concentric castle of dark stone. Cracked and broken, though upright, pieces large and small fall together in concert, frequently dashing against each other, or drawing apart to create wide gulfs to expose the hungry blackness below.
And in this tumbling castle, there sits a king, his head heavy with his crown, his hands clutching his throne in unending terror.
Late is the hour, dark the night. Clouds blanket out the moon and stars. A lone figure is seen slipping out of the forest and onto the main road leading into the village, in search of it's doctor.
Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?