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rickster's Profile

Our Author's latest news and articles.

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rickster - Social Profile

- High Scholar of Slipping Logic

For Next Level: 1485xp of 3925xp complete.
1485xp

Hall of Honour

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Golden

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- RANDOM
Organizations | 205xp

The Needwain

A charitable organization that might have a darker side.

- RANDOM
Lifeforms | 205xp

The Hedge Maze

Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards... -- Gildor, via J R R Tolkien

- RANDOM
NPCs | 75xp

Oleastra

A young sorcerous vampire with a penchant for making zombies.

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Guilds
“ Silk Armor? The Mongols wore silk undergarments under layers of leather armor. Why? Because silk is very strong. If an arrow hit them and made it through their armor, it would usually not have enough energy to puncture the silk. It could still enter their body but, because the silk would not break, the arrow's barbs could not do their work and the arrow could easily be removed leaving a relatively clean wound considering normal arrow wounds.”
Strolen
“ A master thief is struck by an insanity spell and thinks he is half cat. He walks around sniffing things, clawing the furniture and licking himself in the manner of a grooming cat. This is a major cause of embarassment to the guild and the master thief must be cured of his insanity.”
Scrasamax
“ Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat. Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the 'Ash-Wind' comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.”
Murometz
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