“ Beware of towns afflicted with Time Cancer.
For every second you progress through time, an infected town goes back 48 hours. Old buildings slowly become new, then incomplete, and finally just a frame and foundation, giant old trees turn to saplings, birds hatch into eggs.
one must not linger in a chrono-cancerous village for too long, before you know it you'll be a fetus. Tme cancer in unstoppable, no cure or treatment is knwn, it eats through the past until the inhabitants of a village turn into primordial protein ooze”
“ For those familiar with cantrips, you know they are minor acts of magic that have hardly any noticable effect on the world. For example a cantrip to make your food taste better won't heal you any more, or be any more nourishing, just won't make it so hard to get it down. A light cantrip certainly won't be able to blind or even distract anybody, but you might be able flash it to signal someone looking at the right spot.
What if children's nusery ryhmes were a form of cantrip? Like the 'Rain, Rain, go away, come again another day.' One child singing it wouldn't do more than spare her house a couple raindrops, but what if the whole village got together and was chanting in unison? Each one doing just a bit might actually be able to divert a whole storm...”
“ Imagine a tribe of nomads where all the males have the blessing of being were-stallions. The tribe would not need to have ordinary horses to move around, all mounted warriors would be female and a curious custom could be that when a couple gets married, the girl rides her chosen to the altar.”
