Strolen's Citadel: Tags-> halfling

halfling

axlerowes	Elainuk: Parna's Dark Elf Assassin By: axlerowes 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. NPCs Minor Criminal/Espionage	by axlerowes 125^xp 8 replies 2040 views
axlerowes	Hobbit Chair and Eat Racing By: axlerowes A 100 word past time Systems Societal/ Cultural Specific	by axlerowes 155^xp 9 replies 2111 views

“ The two cathedrals in the Citadel stubbornly ring their bells two minutes apart, since each believes the other to be too early or too late respectively. This has been done for over two hundred years.”

ephemeralstability

“ Dustwood is technically not a wood from a specific tree. It is an created fuel for fires. Starting with the sawdust from a sawmill, adding a mixture of wax or pitch, and a few other things, the mixture is pounded or pressed toghether tightly. It is normally smashed into a round container, so when it is slipped out, it looks like a small perfectly round 'log'. (actually a lathed log, but you get the idea). It can either be used as a log or slices of a log can be used for a fire.”

MoonHunter

“ Wytchwolde-Under-Ash, once a great Thorpe, was razed to the ground by the ruthless, and truth told more than slightly deranged, Porcelain Princess and her henchmen, the Purifiers. When the flames had at last subsided, and a kaleidoscope of swirling, dull-gray ash choked the sky, nine hundred acres of old growth iron spruce, black larch and weeping birch, was burned to utter cinders, along with the entire coven of witches comprising the Sisterhood of the Silver Teat. Now, centuries later, the forests are somewhat re-grown, and the town of Foolswater stands where Wytchwolde-Under-Ash once did. It is said that even to this day, one can still find ashes in the otherwise potable well-water of this village. Once a year during the Winter Solstice, the 'Ash-Wind' comes to Foolswater, a suffocating black cloud that passes quickly but leaves dead birds and animals in its wake, darkening the trees, and staining the sky with black snow. The inhabitants of the village know better than to be caught outside during the day-long Ash-Wind. Everyone is locked snugly inside, singing old hymns that curse and re-curse the burned witches who once called this place home.”

Murometz