A parasitic mold with an unusual lifecycle and powerful mind-control properties.
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
A real-world location fit for filling out your adventure; where norse icelandic fishermen suffered unthinkable conditions throughout frigid winters to harvest the fruits of the ocean.
The challenge is simple, write a 500 word location submission, with the theme of Winter being prominent. Entries will be added to this codex.
The bow is a highly intelligent weapon, with memories and plans. The wielder of the bow is a brainless zombie, who is still perfectly capable of wielding the weapon. Together, they're an NPC.
An unstrung and useless piece of cold wood, unless you happen to be dead.
Suddenly an east wind blew, and far above the clouds rolled and folded. Where there were once whisps of white there was now a long cloud formed in the shape of a recurved bow. Malakh bowed her head in humility. "That which you have asked is granted you, O Warrior."
...Vaakri reached and stretched, grasping at the sky. At first he seized nothing, but his heart was filled with the Empyrean Emir's winds and light, and finally he grasped the bow from the far sky and drew it to the earth.
- The legend of Vaakri
The dark elf femme fatale Elainuk was the firstborn son of Robert and Lulu Bobblecork. She was born a healthy bouncy baby boy in the shire of Pedstand, which was part of the Cordially Aligned Tetrarchy of Halfling States.
An addition for the Whimsical Flora Codex (based on my Crunalan society in my Dragon Empire setting)
For those familiar with cantrips, you know they are minor acts of magic that have hardly any noticable effect on the world. For example a cantrip to make your food taste better won't heal you any more, or be any more nourishing, just won't make it so hard to get it down. A light cantrip certainly won't be able to blind or even distract anybody, but you might be able flash it to signal someone looking at the right spot.
What if children's nusery ryhmes were a form of cantrip? Like the "Rain, Rain, go away, come again another day." One child singing it wouldn't do more than spare her house a couple raindrops, but what if the whole village got together and was chanting in unison? Each one doing just a bit might actually be able to divert a whole storm...