The sky is drab and gray, almost completely covered in rainclouds. What gaps there are open up to show yet more gray. Much like mortal demesnes, the weather is unpredictable, but every so often the clouds unleash their burden of water on the residents of this boring land.

Welcome to the Hell of Half-Nothings. Your stay will be boring, we guarantee it.

Yar...I do indeed know of Crossbones Isle, stranger. But ye'd be better suited to avoid that place like a widowed wench.

A subterranean prison complex, meant to incarcerate those who need to be removed from society.

"The wind-driven snow parts for the barest of seconds, revealing a glimpse of refuge from the deadly storm. It's a massive sapphire pyramid. Yet you know of nothing like it in this area..."

"And 3..2..1..Smile!" *flash* *thump* "Mwahaha."

Sometimes, the simplest things are the ones that get you in trouble...

A short tale, for when your bard needs a tale of adventure, romance, and tragedy.

The fey are strange, but occasionally, just occasionally, their actions make sense.

Ether, magical energy condensed into liquid form, is the fuel powering the magidustrial revolution on Ryngard.

'I will give man his threescore and ten, and then give him more. Death himself will fall before me.'

A random description pulls the players into the dangerous, scheming web of politics...

30 books to be found within a steampunk setting. Manuals, tomes, and blueprints galore!

Beware thy deeds my child, for they may come back to haunt you...

The Kren glowed with mystic power, and with a small flash of light, the physical form of the card disappeared, the energy within rushing outwards...

Not all hammers are tools of creation. Some are made for destruction, and some rare few truly excel at it.

...And 'lo, the days of Bennu drew to a close, and he built himself a pyre from which to be reborn in cleansing fire. But trickery snared his form, blackening radiant feathers to twilight...

All that was, all that is, all that will be, all Creation is formed of the Five Elements.

A Tree of Light hidden in the Darkness, vast and unknowable.

The followers of the mechanogod Whrrrm, those who could never have come about until the advent of steamtech.

A realm of unending darkness, pitch blackness, where even light refuses to shine.