Growren are bear like people, who appear much like Giant Teddy Bears… and are as about as smart.
The Khor are a monsterous and violent race that can grow to great size.
These are Elves of a different sort. Not quite a new take. The HighFather is the father of all his race. He is immortal, powerful, and a strong physical presence. His memory is quite powerful- it is the races way of immortality - to be remembered by the HighFather.
The worlds are nothing more than bubbles on the strings on the plane of dreams.
I was spending some time reading some Rune Quest, Changeling, and Castle Falkenstein material and remembered why I hated most of the Trolls found in the majority of “Psuedo Medival, Eurpoeanesk Fantasies”. So once again, I charged up my rant muscles and….
Magic is a living entity, simple and non-sentient, but reactive to large-scale emotional states. Its name, like we might call a dog, “Dog”, is Garan. It is better to think of it as a huge astreal vine like plant, rather than an animal.
Everyone wants to make a magic system for their game, be it THEIR GAME SYSTEM or another. So have fun and do it. Just a few things I want you to think of.
The young priest had been healing in the market place for free. Someone seeking bounty gold had told someone at the temple. "Hut. Hut. Hut" The Temple Knights in formation came marching down from the temple.
The young priest stood up. He reached into his pouch. With a smile he put the top into the Bey. With a spin, the 1000 prayers to the spirits came forth. The spirit responded. The wind whirled and buffetted the troops. They fell into each other and were having trouble getting due to the wind that only they felt.
The priest picked up his top and ran away. They would not catch him today.
Peldor scrambled for his staff. It has all his tactical spells anchored. He dived to the floor, trying to dodge the incoming dart spells. All he had was his ring (for energy enhancements) and his belt buckle (which carried his personal enhancements spells). Papers, smoke, and wood splinters flew everywhere. In the chaos, he saw it - his lab desk’s sextant. He stretched, just touching with the tips of his fingers. He rolled forward. A dart struck infront of him. Spitting dust out of his mouth and squinting against the flying debree, he made solid contact. He whispered the trigger, utilizing his ring to make it cost less mana. The green mystic glow unfolded. It formed a full serephamic sheild. The hex bolts and darts were bouncing off it. Slowly he rose. He was able to take the three steps to reach his battle staff. Now, things would be different.
In the words of the Great Bard Taslinus Excellencus . . . yet on entering The Embassy one is conscious of calm and complete beauty echoing the mood of majesty and peace that is the essential quality of The Valley and Greater Elven Kingdom. . . . against a background of forest and precipice the architect has nestled the great structure of granite, scaling his design with sky and space and stone. To the interior all ornamentation has been confined, and therein lies a miracle of color and design. The Ancient Elven motifs, primitive yet timeless, are supreme . . . . The designs are stylized with tasteful sophistication; decidedly Ancient Elven, yet decidedly more than Elf, they epitomize the involved and intricate symbolism of Man . . .
There has been a city on this site for centuries. Cultures/ societies have come and gone, but the city site remains as it is a crossroads. Those gone by have left their marks upon the city. The city has grown and fallen numerous times. The last time, it was nearly destroyed, yet a few pieces remain.
In the center of the plaza is The Bell. The large iron Bell is covered by a small slanted roof held up by four pillars. These pillars rest upon a square raised foundation. There are small stairs that lead up to the level of foundation. The foundation also has four strong iron loops towards the edges. If one does not know the two traditions, this arrangement makes no sense.
In the western part of the city is a large neighborhood. It is this good sized old walled neighborhood that gives the city is reputation for education, wisdom, and enlightenement. It is called The Quadrangles by locals and those of high education.
Coastside Park—the ultimate haven away from urban chaos—was deeded to the people over one hundred years ago out of the prescient notion that the city folk would one day feel overcrowded. The city has spilled over three sets of defensive walls and is now reaching water to water on its hilly sandy peninsula. This foresight proved invaluable.
Beacon’s Hill is a two and a half century old downtown residential neighborhood situated directly north of the Common and the Public Garden.
Hexagon Plaza is a “zone” in a cluster, not far from a gate. This is because gips are herded to the plaza, the shortest distance possible is the best for creatures, handlers, and people nearby. Note: For this area to make sense, check out the Encyclopedia Kernnica for details on gips, hard and soft leather.
Hy-Pointe or “High Point” gets its name for being the highest point of the city. The Pointe is also the name of the signal tower (now in disrepair) that stood on the hill.
In more magical areas, not all the citizens are full sized and landwellers. In worlds where pixies, nixies, gnomes, lepracauns, faeries and other fey, batkin, catkins, and ratkins, all exist, there will often be Cotery Neighborhoods in the city.
The Guide said, "The Asrolith predates the comming of Men as we know them. It is an ancient place with an ancient wisdom." Looking back at his current employers, he sighed. "And it is just two blocks down on the right, by the big temple. "
Somewhere towards the mountains, something subterranean occured. A while later and many miles away, the two large eastern quarters in the city change. The soil became damp for reasons beyond divination.
A society in which people believe that the hundreds of stars that dot the sky are the dreams of the sleeping. When the sun goes down, and the people of the world rest, the dreams begin to seed the sky, disappearing in the morning as the populace awakes once more. It could be just a folk tale, or it could be real...