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Pariah
Total for selections: (0)
Author Info
XP 11,835
Level 13
Level Title Savant Scribe of the Second Highest Order
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Pariah's Golden Submissions - ( 0 )

“ The Dodge DynaMax is a rare care, coming at exactly the wrong time in history. The End of the muscle car era was nigh, and the market was already filled out with GTOs, Mustangs, Camaros, Chevelles, Novas and a dozen other high performance poor handling vehicles. The DynaMax had a plan to dominate the market with a combination of factory turbochargers and a complex eight speed gearbox. The machine was planned to triumph over the human driver element. What ended up happening was excess costs and mechanical issues saw the turbochargers removed and replaced with a conventional supercharger, and the eight speed transmission ended up being the bane of the car's existence. More DynaMaxes were destroyed or totalled by transmission failures than anything else. The car remains an ugly and ambitious reminder of a day gone by”
Scrasamax
“ During a public holiday in the small town of Wyrmbersch, the Mayor is accidentally killed by a statue which falls from the roof of the Town Hall. As shocked spectators crowd around the body, they discover that the Mayor, at the moment of death, shape-shifted into a squat, stunted humanoid figure, it's grey skin dominated by bony ridges and lumps. How long was the Mayor an imposter? And who else in the town isn't what they seem to be?”
StrangeLands
“ One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?”
Murometz
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