Quote from: JamesVNext!

The Marsh of Memories is all that remains of Varilaris, an ancient elven city. It was destroyed when a corrupted High Druid unleashed hellish magic upon his former friends and relatives, drowning most of them with a flash flood. Even today, small groups of survivors make an annual pilgrimage, to pray for the victims' restless souls and to guard against goblinoid gravediggers.

My turn:

The Queen of the Deep Forest (translated from the Lost Tongue) prefers mortal forms to the ageless bodies of the other Sylvan Incarnae.  Because of this, she must possess the bodies of young women in order to remain "eternally" fair.

Those women chosen give up nearly a decade of life, but receive rewards beyond mortal knowledge in exchange for their sacrifice.

A little changeup, something from the world:

Quote from: fonkaygarryA little changeup, something from the world:

(Snipped awesome picture)

Modern-day Amazons still have to defend their matriarchal realm, but they abandoned their ancient weapons a long time ago. They use the latest technology from Hephaestus Armaments, including the Mk.5 Hoplite APC.


My turn:

It is known that the most dangerous and successful path to fame for an aspiring duelist is to complete their warrior's pilgrimage wielding only a wooden sword, as a tribute to the great Musashi.

The Eternal Flower. Legend says that those who obtain it can create a magical elixir that will let them live forever, but the truth is slightly different. Drinking the elixir puts you in eternal stasis, unaware that you are forever trapped in a single moment of time.
 
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*bump*

Quote from: JongWK

On Howard's Planet, a large mineral-rich world discovered two decades ago, the colony of 2,000 souls were rocked with the news that the first evidence of alien civilization had been found in mine 23.  There is a vast vault, a necropolis, some say, filled with unreadable monuments to forgotten lives.  Some, however, whisper that it is not a necropolis, but a hospital, holding thousands of unknown aliens in hibernation, ready to awake and retake their world.



(I love this thread to pieces.)

Ivenell the Dark Creator was the greatest armourer of his time, with kings and warriors humbly petitioning for his services. Tragically, Ivenell was seduced by a succubus, who became his muse as she led him into corruption. Ivenell left numerous notes on his designs before finally entering the Abyss, though, which are an invaluable source of information to any demon slayer.


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Once we had an empire, my son.
Once the small folk was great indeed.
It was said that a gnome could ride for months from border to border.
We flourished in our trades, we excelled in the sciences.
We were at peace with our neighbours, a piece that should last forever.

We were wrong.

A thousand years ago our empire burned and we fled.
Eight hundred years we ran, until we finally found this new home.
We won't forget our past, my son. Once, wood shall become stone again.

Next one:

Quote from: SosthenesNext one:

Summon L.A.P.D.
This spell has different names, usually along regional lines however it has been known throughout the occult community as everything from, "Summon Donut Devourers" to "SWAT Strike."

To cast the spell, one finds an empty grassy field and distributes in a row before them a number of donuts stolen from a police squad room equal to the number of police you wish to summon.

After fifteen minutes of chanting, and the ritual performance of a crime (must be valid for the law enforcement jurisdiction of your ritual site, and performable during the ritual,) a squad of policemen in tactical assault gear will appear in place of the pastries.  They will obey your every command unfailingly but will crumble into a pile of flakey crumbs at the end of a length of time equal to a standard shift for the precinct closest to the ritual site.

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Quote from: RedFoxSummon L.A.P.D.


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Once we walked the world, once we had open sky over our heads. Now it is the domain of the Kraken that we share. Truly, God has abandoned us.


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Quote from: HinterWelt

Make no mistake: the Dwarfs do not live underground because they love stone.  They crave the breath of the Winds, the blue of Sky.  But once, when the world was young, their Ancestor Gods conspired to throw down the Sun and make him their slave.  The Sun defeated them all, casting them into the darkness below, cursing their children.

When a Dwarf feels the warmth of the Sun on his skin, his mind begins to boil with images of slaughter and doom.  His will fails in the face of those black desires and he becomes a murdering cannibal.  Those who succumb are the stuff of nightmares, terrors who kill until there is nothing left within reach.

Every Dwarf feels the tug of the Sun, child.  Every Dwarf must someday choose between honorable death within the cold earth or bloody horror under vast Sky.  Someday, you too will choose.

NEXT!

Intelligence agents face new dangers every day. The latest operation involved the release of an unknown airborne chemical weapon, created by an internet-based religious cult. Strong winds dispersed the gas before it reached populated areas, but next time we might no be so lucky.

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Quote from: JongWKIntelligence agents face new dangers every day. The latest operation involved the release of an unknown airborne chemical weapon, created by an internet-based religious cult. Strong winds dispersed the gas before it reached populated areas, but next time we might no be so lucky.

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Although they had checked and rechecked their information, this, apparently, was the Wizard that Rolff's Adventuring Guild would rely on to save the world.  Rolff tried not to weep openly, and muttered something about "damned grit from the road in my eyes..."

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from: http://zazb.deviantart.com/

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