oft eliciting nervous laughter, the Bikini Situation involves not bathing suit bottoms, but rather a problem that arose from the bottom of the Bikini atoll in the Pacific. It is a serious issue for the Pacific Rim Coalition.
Also known as the Splendid Forest Serpent, the Dragon of the Barrens, and the Keeper of the Mysteries of the Ssesha
In a world filled with unique chimera, some are more unique than others OR A chimera divided against itself must fall!
500 word, chimera challenge
In a world where all the good gods are dead, a bit of their power remains
A mighty Dragon that once spread it wings over the swamp moon of Dire
(From 1981)
Far too often spells go wild and these are some of the results
A peculiar sort of horror, a mockery of terrestrial biology
A chilling wind whips through the hollow. Winter's bite grips your spine. The very air you breath stings. Snow swirls all around you, yet, the trees... the trees are motionless in the gale, unaffected by the cold, biting winds.
The limb that got away and became the symbol of a revolution.
Understanding that the planets in the universe are simply eggs, waiting to be torn apart by the creatures inside, gave birth to more questions than answers.
"Eight legged, human body, magical and damnation. That's what they are"
Log: Encounter 701,Syowa Antarctica
Classification: Keter, magnitude 5
Type: plasmic manifestation
The only true god of the Stolen World.
Sometimes names can be deceptive
In a world without almost any gods ,sometimes you have to take what you get. A tale of the Stolen World
All you need to stop a brain is a bullet.
Log: Encounter 45, London Arcoplex
Classification: Keter, magnitude 3
Type: Extradimensional Manifestation
"Alright where is the beast so that I can size it up?"
"That's the thing...you see that mountain range over there?"
"Yeah, the twin spires, what of it?"
"Well that's the beast"
This frightening creature has some rather cruel methods to torture its prey
A loose and ragged band of berzerkers, barbarians, criminals and vagabonds, the Blood Wolves have all come together to a dual purpose. Each of the Wolves are beholden and worship the same patron Little God, the Crimson Slashing Jaw. They are also a semi-cohesive mercenary force for hire. Their rates are low, and their morals are non-existant.
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A wagon lays overturned on the forest road, bodies savaged by tooth and claw lay strewn about it, their weapons clean of blood, seemingly unused.
A lone man runs from an unseen threat, deeper into the forest, away from the grisly scene in the road. He stumbles, his foot having caught on a root. He lands hard, his lungs feel like lead. Panting, he comes to his knees. Two eyes of emerald light meet his, a low growl emanates from the beast, and his death is swift.