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.

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.

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.

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.

The call to Him is unnerving. The power He gives is unmatched. He is the reason why I turned my back on my God and now worship Him. I will live eternal for the trade of my Soul to a God. I can live with that.

-Rakeos -Follower of Sethalis, fallen Priest of Aduivo

I will be the blade that shines by the holy suns.
I will be the shield that protects by the darkened shadows.
I will be vigilant in my duties to protect the Gods and their flocks.
I will be faithful to the edicts of my brethren.
Above no other will I be fully given to but the gods and my brethren.
I will be pure and woe to those who are not true.

- Mirrored Hand Ceremonial Edict

Death cults, worshipers of dark powers, necromancers, and eaters of the dead. Individually these cults are horrible in society and the repercussions can have lasting effects on those they influence and affect. But what if that not just a small group tried to influence their belief on a people, but an entire people tried to use their belief to take over the world?

In the early days of Hewdamia, the Gods squabbled over the world and took what they could from the each other. There was little here but water and soil, yet the Three Gods fought over it still. The arrival of the newer Gods marked a turning point in the world as well as the Gods. The arrival marked the beginning of a war that wouldn’t see the first blow for centuries.

Death is an art form. Where can a single act that is repeated by every single life at least once in their lifetime and have multiple emotions involved in each one. I relate this in a similar manner as a dramatic play. You look into the audience at the height of the emotional act and you see ranges of emotion from everyone. I experience this every time I watch the eyes of a guasto widen and become cold to look at. You should witness this yourself, to understand your own immortality and how to overcome it. Look into the mirror as your life trickles away and the truth will be revealed.

- Janus Sanguine High Priest of the Jongleurs Sanguine

Death and Resurrection
Life is commonly difficult, especially for those who choose a life of hardship and adventurous excitement. The cycle of life is never ending and continues its birth, life, death cycle for everyone. With divine aid and assistance, however, at times it can extend this cycle greatly, even halting it for a time. Death is different among nearly all game settings. Please read this with the understanding that it may not fit your particular game setting and style, but is an alternative.

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.

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

My fellow councilor’s, the entire watch was assassinated by the Arch-Duke of Torr wanting to open up a hole in the defense of the city. His intent was obviously to try and make it easier for him to conquer us.

But ser, how do we know for sure that you are right in your assumptions? After all you just recently arrived to the city and were unaware of the murders until we spoke of it here.

Ser! That is because I am a genius and you are not.

- Ser Marcus Hadokk, self proclaimed genius.

An Amber Rose is a very unique flower that only grows every five years. It is amber is color and seems to radiate with a sheen of energy. It’s properties are sought after by anyone who knows of the rare flower.

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.

A dice game of secrecy and side bets where even the looser can win.

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.

In the early days of Hewdamia, the Gods squabbled over the world and took what they could from the each other. There was little here but water and soil, yet the Three Gods fought over it still. The arrival of the newer Gods marked a turning point in the world as well as the Gods. The arrival marked the beginning of a war that wouldn’t see the first blow for centuries.

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.

This is a study of the effectiveness of not the individual but a group of individuals. This is an Open Ended Plot which will not be fleshed out by a single person but by who ever chooses to add content.