“Yeh ever been ta the Screaming Duckling? Up on the east side? Yea, tha’s the one! Awesome ale they got there, but stay outta the bogs, I hear they’s haunted by a shit-daemon! Ha!
Wha’s aboot the Rough Arse? Down the Southway? Yea, the one with the one armed barmaid. Blimey, she’ll give ya a sound trashin’ any night o’ the week. How’d ya think I lost me front teef?
Hmm… Well riddle me this then: where’s the best place for a pint o’ dwarven scrummy? Don’t know? Well, tha’s where we’ll go next!
Handle the tab, will ya, tha’ssa good boy. Then we’re off to the Stinky Otter!” Continue reading “Tavern Names 101”
“In a quiet corner of the marketplace there stands a wagon. The proprietor does not shout to hawk their wares, nor is there anything particularly exciting about the rundown carriage, apart for a heady smell of herbs and flowers that lingers in your pallet long after you’ve passed the spot.
But still, those in the know step into the small wooden cabin with large, jingling coin pouches, and walk out with much smaller parcels and bags, apparently happy with their purchases within.” Continue reading “Marigold’s Wagon of Wondrous Herbs”
“Two paths emerge from a gnarly wood
worry fills the roaming king
he wails and wanes beyond his hood
but answers only the wind
then bares his hands and says a prayer
to his goddess, insightful one
and the paths bow and tell him where
he finds his long lost love”
– The Song of the Roaming King Continue reading “Aristemis, the Insightful One”
“When you look up to the night sky, the universe unfolds in a void of shadow and light. The pretty lights blink at your befuddled eyes.
But for one skilled in reading the message in the stars, the war between Chaos and Law is clear to see, with the positions of the constellations counting score of the endless struggle.” Continue reading “The Stars, They Tell of Gods”
”Eat”, the beady-eyed halfing said and nudged the plate of beef and vegetables closer to you, ”One needs to eat to grow strong. Meat is good for your blood. Greens are good for your bile.”
You were really lucky to find this small cabin in the wilds. Haflings are always so warm and generous.
The man snapped his yellow fingers. ”Oh, and one more thing.” He hobbled to a small cupboard and summoned a round potion from its depths. ”Here we go. Juice. Made from my own dear papa.”
”By. By his own dear papa”, the female halfling said, still sitting in the corner of the dark room and polishing her strange hook of a hand.
”Huh? Oh, right. By my own dear papa”, the man said and sat back down and poured you a tall cup of the sweet-smelling liquid, ”Juice is good for your throat. Gives you a beautiful voice. Endurance, as well. Oh yes. With a bit of papa’s juice, one can weather the most amazing injuries, and still keep on singing.” Continue reading “Morgon, the God of Torture and Bodily Fluids”
“Cadixtat, Chaos Titan and the Lord of the Five-Pointed Forge stands atop his crucible, petrified for all time. Was he to awaken, the world would be driven into fire and disarray, the likes of which have not been seen since the First Wars.
Despite his seeming inaction, his shadow falls on the world, haunting the feverish dreams of artisans and madmen with chaotic inspiration. Through their actions the Five-Pointed Forge still spews forth discord and strangeness.” Continue reading “Cadixtat, Chaos Titan”
“The Alley of Steel is a loud place. The constant clang of the forges and the shouts of salesmen hawking their wares forms a wall of cacophony, enough to confuse anyone not used to the City.
But at a hidden dead-end stands a quiet shop, with no shingle marking the establishment. It is there for those in the know, and indeed, needs no advertisement: Armand has everything, from the curved blades of delicate steel forged by the veiled smith-eunuchs of the eastern deserts, to the crude heavy flails used by the crazed wildling hordes in the far north.
Some even say that Armand has a hidden back room of fabled items, made from mysterious materials and metals unknown to most smiths, but this might as well be a fable, for your meager take from the last dungeon certainly isn’t enough to trade for such treasures.” Continue reading “Armand’s Emporium of Armor and Weapons”