SC
Strolen'sCitadel
User Avatar
User Avatar
  • Barbarian Horde
  • Article Main
  • BRBrowse
  • Categories
    • All
    • Articles
    • Dungeons
    • Items
    • Lifeforms
    • Locations
    • NPCs
    • Plots
    • Organizations
    • Systems
  • Featured
    • Golden Articles
    • Hall of Honour
    • Random
  • Ideas
  • Quests
  • Social Feeds
  • Citadel Magazine
  • UIUser Interface
  • Create
    • Write
    • Share Idea
  • Favorites
  • Generators
  • IW---** In Work **---
  • My Campaigns
    • Coming Soon
  • Guilds
  • Blogs
  • New Blogs
  • Featured
    • New Submissions
    • Tag Cloud
    • Author Rankings
Settings
Color Themes
Header
Sidebar
Main Content
LOGIN/REGISTER
epsilon
Total for selections: (0)
Author Info
XP 1,971
Level 7
Level Title High Scholar of Slipping Logic
Sort By:
2

Plots

3

Items

2

Lifeforms

1

Organizations

0

Golden

6

HoH

8

Random

epsilon's Golden Submissions - ( 0 )

“ The Nomin gypsies have a fiddling competition every year, known as the Danse de Velose. Beaters hit out the rhythm on taut drums and the competitors start to play, slowly at first. Youngsters can compete, but are soon pulled away by worried mothers, before the competition becomes too dangerous. After two hours the haunting tune has become dazzlingly fast. You can resign at any time, but the moment you make a mistake you receive an arrow through the neck. Strings may snap, but the players must play on. The whole affair never lasts much longer than three hours, and the last fiddler playing is crowned king of the gypsies.”
ephemeralstability
“ The heroes stop in a small town ready to restock their traveling supplies and feed for their animals. All of the villagers are starving, and there is no food to be had. If the PCs are quick witted, their noble steeds might be slaughtered for food.”
Scrasamax
“ It seemed like a great place to camp. The clearing was good sized and sheltered from the wind. The brook just a few feet away. There is a natural hallow to keep the horses. Then the night came. It was like it became a different place. The temperature dropped. The wind, which does not seem to disturb cloth, almost cuts through you like an arctic wind. No one can sleep, as the soft ground has turned hard. The horses are uneasy. The Bats are flying over and stopping in the trees. And then there is the eyes. There are glowing eyes just inside the tree line watching your group. The mages and clerics can detect nothing, but there is still something there. (yet there is nothing at all... The Darkness will do nothing unless the players do something to it. And even then it will all seem to be a conincidence.) Of course, in the morning, it all becomes sweet and light.”
MoonHunter
Footer Image
  • Discord Chat
  • About the Strolenati
  • Contact Us / Bugs
  • Guides / Support
  • Licensing
  • Privacy Policy
Footer Image Footer Image

The Citadel is a safe haven of collaborative, creative freedom for role players and game masters with awesome ideas. You have found the best roleplaying site to Read, Post and Play!

Crafted with by the Strolenati
Strolen's Citadel 4.0 © 2000