The desert is like the sea, the sands shift ebb and flow and with them so does life. The tide is in ebb, and Xen'da'rik is dying.
A wishing well is nothing more that a place to hope and dream. A token offering is given with the silly notion that the wish just might come true. But what happens when these wishes start to come true, on a regular basis?
"Get me the sugar!" called Jack's wife. His heart skipped a beat as he stood before the cabinet. Holding his breath, he slowly opened it.... Dangit! A baby!
The ruin that birthed a society; the Life and Times of a city in the throes of death.
Things are not what they appear in the Cognitive Network
The city of pigs
The fictitous state that I have been developing for my CoC/Vampire cross-over home game.
Barathra is quite simply the Land of the Dead, the Afterlife. It, simply put, defies the Atheians' expectations. After all, for most, it is Hell.
You walk into the room and it is like stepping into the grand library. Wall to wall and floor to ceiling is taken up by leather bound loaded bookshelves. All of the tomes are in varying states of decay and none of which are new.
An Amazon nation in the Cosmic Era
The Reposians, unlike the rest of Atheus, respect rather than fear the sea. In fact, this respect has grown to border on love and dependence. It is a fact, naturally, that most of Reposian exports are seafoods, and most of its income is from sea-based reasons, from oceanic trading vessels to fish.
A Sundered Realm, flotsam of a world.
The fort seemed like every small boys dream, but in fact it was a very well made magical prison, and the young prince only learned the truth when it was too late and the magic sucked him inside, his cries from his now inch high body too quiet to be heard.
Tauria is a republic, and has experimented with the ideas of democracy. That is, it used to be a republic. Now its a dictatorship, masquerading as a republic, with laws permitting the army to be thugs.
The term is archaic, calling upon the ancient language of the magi, and those versed in the eldritch arts. In the more vulgar argot, terms such as scrying room and equally mundane names are bandied about. The fact that such limited terms are used to describe the proper mystic's psychomanteum demonstrates how little they actually know about what occurs within.
Sometimes Utopias should stay as mere legends.
Moderators of the wildly popular VORPG, Polyworld, had no idea that one of their most famous cites Edotown had been stolen and for quite some time. No wonder there were so many complaints and bug reports coming in.
In a world where teleportation magic doesn’t exist, the opportunity to travel a few days journey in moments is beyond value. With only a simple toll, you can be practically on the doorstep of Nizul-tibi before you know it.
How long they carried him through those back tunnels, illuminated only by the flickering of torchlight, he had no idea. Then light seemed to explode when they reached the massive chamber. All around, unbelievably large red crystals captured the light of the flames and seemed to multiply it.
There are few places more treacherous than pools of quicksand save for a sea of quicksand. Those who tread here quickly find that the lust for adventure or coin might leave them with a sinking feeling of despair.
In a new town for the first time, the White Raccoon Lodge looks like a comfortable place to spend the night. The owner, however, makes sure to explain to you that there is a curfew after sundown and the door will be locked... from the outside. "We don't want anyone being caught out on the streets after dark," he says.
Now that you think of it, all the doors in this small town did have a crossbar on the outside rather than the inside... You wonder what goes on at night...