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Stephie's Profile

Our Author's latest news and articles.

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Stephie - Social Profile

- Holy Scrivener of Extreme Wit

For Next Level: 4405xp of 8960xp complete.
4405xp

Hall of Honour

23 HoH

Golden

1 Golden

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- RANDOM
Items | 355xp

Unique Gems

Tired of giving your players a cache of non-descript diamonds, plain amethysts, and simple sapphires?

- RANDOM
Items | 175xp

Lover's Rock

You are the lovers rock
The rock that I cling to
You're the one
The one I swim to in a storm
Like a lovers rock

- Sade "Lovers Rock"

- RANDOM
Items | 140xp

General's Undead Army

With no helm or hat, closer inspection reveals that part of his face has rotted away. "Give me orders!"

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Guilds
“ What if the sources of precious metal in the realm all failed, so that the only sources for gold and other precious metal were hostile foreign lands? Gold coinage might become increasingly rare, resulting in hoarding. Player characters that appear with masses of treasure might be suspected of being in the pay of foreign powers.”
Wulfhere
“ On route from Geli to Nekrass the characters meet a peasant boy on the road. He's wandering in the direction from which they've just come. If this seems a little bit incongruous, they may wish to ask him a few questions. He's perfectly willing to talk: he's called Lamish and he's run away because he knows he is the heir to the throne of Geli and his parents didn't believe him. How far is his home? About five weeks walk from here. How much has he eaten? Nothing. Has he drunk? Only from the filthy roadside ditches. In short, it's a wonder he is still alive. And yet he seems perfectly healthy. Is he a thief, waiting for travellers to trick? Is he lying because there's something more sinister under all of this? Is he telling the truth? And anyway, what should the characters do? Do you take him to Geli? Do you try to find his parents? Or leave him to make his own way?”
ephemeralstability
“ The Nomin gypsies have a fiddling competition every year, known as the Danse de Velose. Beaters hit out the rhythm on taut drums and the competitors start to play, slowly at first. Youngsters can compete, but are soon pulled away by worried mothers, before the competition becomes too dangerous. After two hours the haunting tune has become dazzlingly fast. You can resign at any time, but the moment you make a mistake you receive an arrow through the neck. Strings may snap, but the players must play on. The whole affair never lasts much longer than three hours, and the last fiddler playing is crowned king of the gypsies.”
ephemeralstability
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