The Dancing Lights of the Ice Wind are one of the great dangerous in the Land of Snow and Ice.

Of all the published roleplaying games, we have a huge number of fantasy games, a good number of sci-fi games, a smattering of modern and modern variation games, but very few of anything else. The Western is an Epic Genre in the bookstore. There are shelves and shelves of them, nearly as many as the science fiction section (minus Star Trek and Star Wars books). You would think it would be popular. There are only a piddling number of western games, and none are very successful.

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

The Lost City of Paldor was never really lost. Everyone knew where it was. However, nobody could get to it. Unknown to most, recent Land-Waves (Earthquakes) have opened up the paths to Paldor.

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.

I am always giving advice to various gamers on various game forums. I am constantly giving the same advice over and over again (cut/ paste repeat). Once a year I think about the advice and put together The List.

The passenger said, 'It sounds like your wind chime is broken, or at least out of tune.' The first mate just smiled. 'That chime is music to a sailor's ears, it is,' he said. 'We will have smooth sailing this day.'

The Vicean Deity is a mysterious Deity. Some say it is the primal god - the universal spark- that created all the other dieties and the rest of the universe. Some say that it is the God within all of us. The Vicean Deity is The Sun. The Vicean Deity is not simple. There is no 'personaification' of the Vicean Deity. Is it confusing to most people, but it seems to work.

GalwaEnchena is the name for the ultimate weapon, the weapon said to be able to slay even a God, if the wielder is willing. This weapon appears to be a finely crafted broadsword. It is so much more. Forged by Corvus the Great, for Alyen the Wise, known as Alyen the Bloody, King of Western Marches, it is a weapon so terrible that it brought peace to the land. Note: GalwaEnchena in the old tongue means 'End of Conflict/ End of War'

Every culture has a different idea of what constitute's breakfast. Even regions inside the same culture can vary quite a bit (like grits with hot sauce in Texas or Fishcake mix in omelets in New Hampshire). What do they consider 'food' first thing in the morning in your space?

The Sleeping King is a near mythic figure that has a presence in real history. Originally called the Lost King, he came from a Land to the East where he had been a King. He left his Land because he felt he had failed his people ( the details are vague upon this point). He arrived here to discover a land under the boot of Merideth the Great. He vowed that, 'All people shall be free to live as they need to live. No one should live as a slave to a man or fear!' Thus he began to lead. From a small band came The Six Armies Who Were One. Upon the final assault on Merideth, he brought freedom to The Six Lands. Then left, vowing to return if needed.

Shelandra looks the part of a powerful Necromantic Sorceress. She is tall, pale, and coldly beautiful. She has a castle that always seems to have a storm over it. She has pet monsters. She has a small personal army of Skeletons. She scares the peasants and makes the local nobles uneasy. However, if pressed, nobody can actually recall her doing anything really Evil.

From the outlook of my new and inexpensive flat, I could see her. She was kneeling in the graveyard across the cobblestoned way in front of a fresh grave. She was in dark mourning gear, complete with those large black hats that were the fashion. A lost lamb I supposed, recently wed, recently widowed, crying for the loss of a loved one. She had been there two days that I noticed, as well as their nights. She never seemed to move, so locked she was in her grief. As I drank a lonely nightcap, I caught the glimpse that changed me. In the pale moon light, I saw the grave buckle. In a foul corruption of Athenean birth, some spawn sprang forth. Not taking my eyes off the horrid scene, I reached over to the weapon I had been cleaning. Before I could grasp it fully, the petite young widow of my imagination cleared a saber concealed under her over cape and removed its loathsome head. After checking her kill, she looked up at me; backlit I assumed by the lamp in the room. She was not just a simple widow, she was Mourner. I held up my glass in a true salute from one professional to another. At that point I knew two new things: That the Unnatural truly had become more active as I had been hearing in the back alleys and I needed to move far from that graveyard.

The shark is the most efficient hunters in the realms. This has empowered the Shark Spirit, to become the Beast Hunting Spirit. This powerful spirit has bound elementals of various kinds and places with a shark imprint. These bound spirits spawn new shark races: land sharks, sand sharks, sky sharks, and as for here, The OcrheMaws.

Do you understand Six Degrees of Seperation?

It is a good sized temple with all the appropriate attendents. Who is in the temple running it?

This is a city deep in the hills of old Aviansis. The path to Merideth is magically obscured, so only those with the pathfinder's gift can find it. The city is still bustling with souls after all these centuries. They trade with each other, make deals, sell things, and even send messages. Unfortunately only a few of them have warm bodies or heartbeats.

The yang and yin team of Connor, the Urban Paladin, and Heather, The Mystic Cleric, is very effective as his pragmatism is balance by her optimism, her enthusiasm and idealism are tempered by his cautious paranoia, his wounds are healed by her, and she is kept alive by his sword. This effectiveness aside, Connor and Heather are not your normal adventurous members of The Church. Nor are they a couple.

The Crimson Skulls Company is a mercenary company of some repute. That repute is not always the most positive. Their Motto is 'We are Dead; we have no fear of you.'

Despite the name, no metal working is currently done here. It is a restaurant of some repute.