Castle Strelock is well known from the crimson banners on the towers and the vines on it's walls, and from the rumours and tales of the beautiful damsel trapped within it.

From the shadows sneak thirty secret agents, on the trail of top secret infomation.

Suffering from an ancient curse, the Medusan race is slowly dying.

A harvest queen, a druid of war, a monarch of leaves.

A rundown shop of old joys, now just a wreck, with a little touch of mystery.

An equipment listing of items useful to mages and wizards, but not quite deserving full submissions of their own.

The surprising thing about young fools is how many survive to become old fools.

Lithe as a willow and just as flexible

Ever collecting books, knick-knacks, gewgaws and endless heaps of strange oddments and tidbits

A mayor (from the Latin mâior, meaning "greater") is a modern title used in many countries for the highest ranking officer in a municipal government. In some places The Mayor is the Chief Executive running the city. In others, they are a ceremonial official. No matter what they really are, mayors tend to reflect their cities, and their cities and city administrations tend to reflect them.

As the tree sprouted from his chest, and the roots anchored his body to the ground, he wished as he died that he had not eaten the golden apple.

It starts on the horizon, creeping over the land. The storm clouds are huge. They fill the sky. They are moving this way; relentless like the tide, faster than they have a right to. They are dark, so dark to be nearly purple. The rain begins to fall near you. You hear it hit the ground. It hits like bullets. The wind gusts; getting in between a person and their warmth. There is thunder that deafens you. It rolls forth like a stampede. The lightning brings the suns brightness for a moment, before plunging you back into the dark.

"What do you do now?"

The Wise Woman of a small family of the giant hill people known as the Volgotoi, Korara's particular gifts of illusion have allowed her a surprising degree of influence over the local Imperial outpost, helping spare her people the ravages of 'civilization'.

Fearsome horsemen from the plains, they raid, trade, and run.

Elias and Manfred are basically a ventriloquist act. However, the major difference between them and other ventriloquists is that Manfred the Talking Cat is a real cat and not a puppet.

Thirty Lovers, walking hand in hand in moonlit groves, cuddling, kissing, and doing other, more private, romantic things...

A malaign substance that can bring a lingering, horrible end.

-Heroes scatter under barrage of grey energy spheres-
"You know kids, you didn't mind when Captain Liberty took you down. He did it with honor, with respect, and followed the rules. Not you kids today. For you, it is all about The Power. Just as soon shoot you as take you in. And really young lady, would your mother approve of that costume? Not that the rest of you dress much better. What standard are you idiots setting for the young kids of today?"
-thwack-
"Get up. Don't you have any pride? A novice should have been able to avoid that attack. You have a total lack of grit. Don't lie there and moan. Get up. And that surprise maneuver you two are attempting. I have to tell you, not so much of a surprise. Now, stop standing there wide eyes and slack jawed. Do something. "

"You are heroes for Gods sake. Start acting like it."

The preferred small arm of the Starkin Federation's military branches, this reliable and proven coil-rifle design has been in service for literally centuries.

A small village situated near a medium lake,with inhabitants and history that is more unique than one might expect. Suitable for any fantasy/low tech setting.