The Wastes can be beautiful. Here the land is toxic: slowly corrosive to the touch, causing illness and death with prolonged contact. The bubbling sulfur and ectomass pools (HellPits too) are especially lovely, if you have the right aesthetic. The soil is soft and any heavy object slowly sinks. If it was not for the special resources here (dyes, alchemical elements, resins, Grimrock, Verner glands, etc), it would be a place that no one would come.

It is a simple child's toy, that has granted its owner good fortune. Unfortunately things are never quite what they seem, especially when Corvus is involved.

This Codex is for classes or types of magic weapons, rather than specific items. These are not 'one of a kind' items. These are enchantments that are 'common' in the magic community (or were common at one time), so you will encounter a number of these weapons.

It was the first true 'scientific' book of healing arts. Thus the clerical establisment decided it was heretical and all the copies and the author were burned.

Something occured and those in the grand city went mad. Was it a curse, a prophecy, a spell gone wrong, or a magik item opened? Nobody allegedly knows. The city guard on the city walls, saw the madness and were apparently not touched. They tried to keep the crazy ones inside, by blocking the gates and sealing the entrances to the large city wall. The region's leader, eventually sent the Army there to reinforce the city guards, to hold the mad ones in. Since the mad men are incredibly strong and immune to pain, if they escape it would be a plague upon the land. There is still hope that someday they could be restored (perhaps a royal heir or a royal household was in the city). Perhaps they are nearly immortal. The city guards who occasionally decend into the city to drop supplies and stop fires believe that to be true.

Now it is a small town, with its own walls, that rings the old grand city. Over the years, the army and guards, have created a town that supports them. They think themselves immune to the madness, yet their proximity to them, means they are only slightly odd... perhaps becoming mad. The crazed watch over the mad. A running joke is that someday, someone will man their walls to hold them in.

It is a simple book, a codex, a few dozen loose folios bound together. The cover is heavy stock with a simple red hand that one hopes is impressed in red ink rather than blood.

The Grey District was once a prosperous inner district in The Hill City of Frankard. It is an erriely silent place now, where people make little in the way of noise or light. It's district walls are now painted with a Grey Line, a warning as to plague. However, it is not the plague you would expect.

LLorryn of Rydlin crafted thirteen of the famed Singing Blades, as well as numerous other charms and magic items. All are known for his trademark, the ringing sound caused by the magic flowing through them. The Swords are his best known body of work.

Every kind of gamer has the dark potential to disrupt the game if they take their natural interests to extremes. Roleplaying, taken to extremes, can destroy a campaign for a troupe just as easily as any power gamer, rules lawyer, or munchkin.

Some times you just need a horde of police officers...

A list of locations and/or situations for a cool fight scene. (list)

He was frantically pointing towards the glowing mountain. 'We need to cast The Spell!', Bothar screamed!

I held up the scroll we all had risked our lives to get. 'Nobody can cast this spell without a prepared mystic space and ritual equipment. It would be suicide,' I said. 'Not even him,' I jerked my thumb towards the Magi who smiled slyly.

Silently, he unstrapped that bolt of cloth he had been carrying since I had known him. He unfurled it, tamped it down, with small spikes, pulled a small apothecary chest out, placed and lit four candles on the cloth, drew some lines with some handy chalk, unpacked his remaining tools, then he held his hand out expectantly for the scroll. It took a fraction of a candle mark.

'Solomontic Rug,' he said quietly. 'The key to mastery is knowing and having the right tools, be they physical, mental, or magical, and having them ready when you need them.'

In the words of the Great Bard Taslinus Excellencus . . . yet on entering The Embassy one is conscious of calm and complete beauty echoing the mood of majesty and peace that is the essential quality of The Valley and Greater Elven Kingdom. . . . against a background of forest and precipice the architect has nestled the great structure of granite, scaling his design with sky and space and stone. To the interior all ornamentation has been confined, and therein lies a miracle of color and design. The Ancient Elven motifs, primitive yet timeless, are supreme . . . . The designs are stylized with tasteful sophistication; decidedly Ancient Elven, yet decidedly more than Elf, they epitomize the involved and intricate symbolism of Man . . .

With silent wings may your soul fly to the Spirit Home

The young priest had been healing in the market place for free. Someone seeking bounty gold had told someone at the temple. "Hut. Hut. Hut" The Temple Knights in formation came marching down from the temple.

The young priest stood up. He reached into his pouch. With a smile he put the top into the Bey. With a spin, the 1000 prayers to the spirits came forth. The spirit responded. The wind whirled and buffetted the troops. They fell into each other and were having trouble getting due to the wind that only they felt.

The priest picked up his top and ran away. They would not catch him today.

Music and Gaming, two great things that actually do go together. And movies show us how.

It is a nice fluffy pillow, filled with soft down, covered in a soft, nice fabric. It is soooo comfortable. *yawn* You could just nod offffff when layyyying on .......... *snore*

This work is a real book. It should give you an idea of what people in your historical analog/ fantasy worlds should be expecting to eat. (Or at least if they are English.(

The Magic Guild is one of the first Humanti Guilds, one of the first organizations that crossed clan bloodlines. It has become one of the most powerful, having a prestigeous place in history and becoming the 'official' judges of way and order/chaos.

Falconry or Hawking is the sport of hunting with a trained bird of prey, usually a hawk or falcon. It has been practiced by a number of cultures through out the centuries.