And now the day was here, and the people had gathered for the spectacle of my punishment for show throughout the arena the bodies of those about to perish had led off a procession of their own death. My master was sitting there piling up favor derived from our blood. Although no one could know my fortune, my family, my father, because I was separated from my homeland by the sea, among certain spectators nevertheless one thing made me pitiable, that I seem inadequately prepared; truly I was destined to be a certain victim of the arena, no one had caused less expense for the giver of the games than I. One thing they do not know, while I may be inadequate in preparation, the fear of a cornered man knows no bounds.

-Agustine, prisoner of war and Gladiator

The sound was most troublesome. Long have I been prisoner to Kormack and his evil designs, and the torturous sounds my heart has been cursed to endure has left me cold inside. I endure and ignore. Cold to the pain and the suffering of poor souls around me. Their Fate forsworn as soon as they enter His lair. But this, this atrocity has pierced my now icebound heart and cracked deep into my very soul. The children... The mewling babes that know nothing of their future, nothing of the joys of life. Innocent of horrors of the world and the dread future it holds. How short that future is. I can not get the sound of the mewling infants from my mind, it is seared into memory as a brand on an animals flank forever to remain. Some have even laughed right up till the end and nothing is more damaging to ones sanity than a broken childs laugh.

Master Blacksmith Heaf Astes

Blood Spiders are dark brown rust color, nearly the color of dried blood and have a body that is approximately 5’ wide, not including their legs. They have a desire only for survival and are not malicious. Tell that to one of their victims.

The eyes of the all seeing are never ending. The truth can only be revealed to those willing to bear the burden.

His eyes opened in disbelief, the battered spectacles rising slightly on his brow. To everyone around him, everything was normal. As it should be. To his eyes, the light was nearly unbearable. An aura of energy filled his vision completely. He knew what it was he saw, what the others could not. He knew he saw the impossible, and he wanted it all for himself.

A family heirloom, worn by the son of a fisherman, that raised them out of squalor and into nobility. What is in a man’s heart that can not be corrupted? What can turn the untainted into rage? Pray to the God’s and you never know the outcome.

The crowd erupted in a bright flash of multi-colored light, red and green flashing once each blinding those to near. The clash of metal on metal rang over the dinn of the voices of the market place. Cries of a fight swept through the streets ending up at the ears of the city watch.

“Someone broke a seal again. Thats to bad, as I didn’t want to have to kill anyone today.”

- Corporal Watesan, 2nd Shift of the day watch. Cerb City, Cerb.

Ok, there is no real place to put this but I think it needs to be said and put up here for everyone to view. This is not for gaming terms, it is not how to view rules or your gamers better. But it is an idea on how to respect your fellow Strolenites.

There! Did you see it that time? I swear someone is following us. I keep seeing torchlight through the damn trees. I'm telling you, something is following us.

Thom, your either seeing things or drinking to much. There is no one following us. See look . . . wait, they look . . . they look like spiders but they are on fire!

- Last words of Micha, Traveller and Explorer.

To kill a Unicorn is to bring bad luck and the hatred of nature itself down upon the foolish. It is said that the mate of a unicorn that is murdered will turn horrible in it’s pain and anger, turning against nature to hunt and kill the murderer of it’s mate. It turns dark and soulless and seeks nothing but the death of it’s enemy.

To the first or casual observer, this island sitting out in the ocean seems normal, if not heavily covered with lush trees and foliage. To those who have extensive nautical experience know something is amiss, especially since the island is never in the same place twice.

When one views a knight from afar thoughts of chivalry and deeds of heroic good flood the mind of the youthful and dreamers. But what does it mean when someone takes those same ideals and alter them to a darker view? When the thought of chivalry of light is replaced with a code of darkness? The Tenets of Shadows prevail.

A place of majestic views, amazing life, and hidden treasures. The secrets that the jungle holds in its folds are both breath taking and soul taking. When traveling to Bone Island one must be wary, not of just the tribal inhabitants and exotic creatures, but the secrets that the gods forgot.

"Hail! You there, farmer. We are in need of aid; do you have a temple or a priest? We ran into some bandits up the road there and are injured. Jonst won’t last much longer." A large man bellowed from the broken roadside.

"Of course stranger. You can find Luayas in the center of the village proper continue on until you see a large apple tree; she can aid your wounded. Please be gentle and offer tithes for her generosity." A gentle eyed man in homespun clothing, simple yet comfortable in the heat.

"Thank you farmer, we are in your debt. What does Luayas look like so that we might find her quickly? Does she stay by the tree often?" saying over his shoulder in thanks as he half pushed, half carried his companion along.

"No stranger." The farmer laughed, "She is the tree."

From the depths of the void the masses crash through the Gates of Forlorn and wreak havok on the world of men. The flood is an unending tide of chaos and destruction that is everlasting. Their thirst for blood is surpassed only by the rising of the son, on it stands eternal. On the comming of the Flood, the children of the lost god will reign supreme on a charred world where the people are enslaved, and the rulers are Demonblood.

- Excerpt from the tome of Caedmon.

This is a compilation of all the creatures I have in the world of Hewdamia.

Damn 'ol thing it tis. Itches like nuthin I e'er felt. Stupid bugs, your the Poosker ye fool. Help me get rid o' these damnable things.

I hate to tell you this but you have what we liked to call, 'Puces Barbe Morts', or undead beard fleas. And the only way to be rid of them is to cut off your beard and then burn the hair.

No! Just kill me it's less painful that way.

Having remembered our first character’s, how many remember your favorite love? That character that will always travel with you in stories to every game session? The one that taught you how to role-play, or the one that brought the most laughs?

Millenia ago the Gods changed how the mystical forces on the world were governed and used. No longer were the mortals able to pluck the power from the very air and use it. So they altered it, thinking the mortals were not clever enough to find a way to use it again. The God’s crystalized the magic and placed the power in the four elements of the world. Now mortals did indeed determine a way to use magic again, albeit at a much lower proficiency. Magic users now require a focus staff made of the very essence of magic. These crystal staves store the mystical energies required to cast spells, needing to be recharged over time. The magic users scribe, etch, or carve the spells symbols directly on the staves and focus the energy through the symbols.

Having no real place to put this thought I decided to put it here. This is to be read objectively. This is my opinion and my take on the voting system.

You should feel proud today, knowing that you will be the reason why another person will live. Why they will escape the brink of death and be able to heal all injuries. This is a great thing and you should feel elation knowing because of you, they will live. Unfortunately you must die for them to live; such is the way of the world.

-Inganno - Follower of Caedmon, Alchemist of Shadow