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Vigiler's Profile

Our Author's latest news and articles.

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Vigiler - Social Profile

- Master of the Plain Thought

For Next Level: 230xp of 970xp complete.
230xp

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- RANDOM
Articles | 215xp

You've GOT to play it in character!

GMs definitely need to enforce strict "in character" play, eliminate "across the table" chatter, and by doing so - set the scene for an awesome role-play experience!

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“ Cold Comfort is a long-sword of star-steel, its blade giving off a wan, blueish light. Its grip is wrapped tightly in snow-serpent hide, and its pommel bears a single opalescent gemstone. This blade is enchanted in such a way, that whoever wields it, begins to fall completely and irrevocably 'in love' with the weapon. This love does not manifest itself as the expected reverence and bond formed between any warrior and his weapon, but as a deeper, truer love, one has for a soul-mate of the same species! The longer the wielder carries Cold Comfort the stronger and more disturbing this love becomes, and only the most powerful of magicks can potentially break the sword's insidious spell. The blade's owner will even speak to and coo to the weapon, convinced that the sword understands and returns this epic love. If the blade's wielder somehow loses the weapon or has it taken away, they will become inconsolable, and will predictably go to 'ends of the earth and back' to retrieve it at any cost. Such is the weapon's curse that even separation from it does not damper the feelings the owner has for the sword. Legends tell of several distraught and mind-addled knights who even years after losing the blade, still wander the country-side searching for their lost love. And woe be to the 'new lover' if and when they find him or her.”
Murometz
“ An army and navy who work in the same way as others except their rank titles are upside-down. So people start as full generals and those with the rank of private command armies.”
Cheka Man
“ Moonlight shines down on the tranquil scene of a slumbering inn along one of the many roads that cross the land. Trees sway gently in the night air, and the stars twinkle brightly. All is quiet as the PCs snore away, a fine tendril of smoke curlsrnunder their door. The tavern is on fire! This is particularly bad news if the PCs own any horses - the screaming they hear is probably from their mounts! Panicky people are rushing about with buckets of water, trying to tame the flames. The fire fighting effort is not very coordinated as everybody is either hungover or still drunk, including the PCs. Hurry!”
Michael Jotne Slayer
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