“ By late afternoon, the sky starts to cloud over. The sun shines behind the fluffy clouds, gilding the edges and showing a Jacob's-ladder of rays streaming through the gaps...very pretty. Gradually the clouds shift into a new configuration: you realize with awe-struck, preternatural clarity that the clouds form a map of a coast-line that you know, against the blue sky as ocean: surely it's a Sign! Suddenly, the golden beams coalesce into one long ray that strikes across the blue. A star-like gleam flashes under the ray: perhaps it is an island? But the charts show no island there...who would want to hide an island? Who could do it?”
“ A group of Mages sought to create an Elixir of Fertility, to deal with the Curse of the Empty Cradle. After acquiring such things as the 'ahem' vigor of a war deity, and the 'ahem' blessing of a forest goddess, the mages almost created the cure. Instead, the vessel of Divine Virility was spilled, and instead of curing sterility, infused the ancient hill with life. The temple and alter rose, becoming a demonic force of life essence and the fecundity of nature.”
“ A magic speaking sword of great power-which is also a racist, obnoxious and unpleasent, so much so that those who carry it often *gag* the hilt of it, the taking part, with cloth to shut it up.”
