Saturday, June 11, 2016

:: Random NPC—Oyibo, Leonian Wunderkind ::

Oyibo (“White”)
by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/11/16
a leonian

Race: Leonian
Age: Middle-Aged
Gender: Male
Stature: Tall
Physical: Narrow Shoulders
Outwardly: Enraged
Inwardly: Embarrassed
Profession: Law Enforcement
Magic: Wunderkind—Love/Enmity
Catchphrase: “You dare to enter the den of the Kahina, infidel scum!?”

Entering the forest clearing at last, you cross the threshold between underbrush and polished flagstone. The den of the Kahina spreads out before you in a perfect flat circle. At its center, nearly 50 feet away, a tall leonian male stands, facing away from you. A long, billowing ceremonial cape hangs from his narrow shoulders, as shock white as his albino fur. You take but one more step and his left ear twitches, marking the sound. An instant later a roar rings out across the den and he is upon you in seconds. “You dare enter the den of the Kahina, infidel scum!?” he bellows, bearing down on you, flashing clawed gauntlets of jeweled silver.

Monday, June 29, 2015

:: Random NPC--Forest Marshal Saturnina ::

Forest Marshal Saturnina (“To Sow”)
by Krista Kubie, 6/27/2015

a ranai bulb-lantern bearer
Race: Ranai
Age: Adult
Gender: Female
Stature: Tall
Physical: Broad shoulders
Outwardly: Exuberant
Inwardly: Joyful
Profession: Marshall
Magic: Wunderkind--Enmity/ Love
Catchphrase: “Heeey! You cut that out you crazy...person!”

As you hack and slash and slash and hack your way through the underbrush, you are suddenly halted mid-slash by a shrill exuberant voice. “Heeey! You cut that out you crazy...person!” A tall, braod-shouldered ranai woman swings in from a neighboring copse of trees, nearly tngled in the vine she’s riding. “You just cut through two snakes and a tree that just had it’s four-thousand-three-hundred-and-sixty-first birthday!”

Sunday, June 28, 2015

:: Random Item—Mandeep's Living Nightmare ::

Mandeep’s Living Nightmare
or Dying for Merciful Nirvana
by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/25/15

a grimoire
Books: History
Culture: Sirens
Condition: Dirty, Intact
Color: Pastel Pink
Keyword: Nirvana

The siren guarding the underwater grotto agrees to let you pass only on the condition that you read a passage aloud from a book in her collection. When you agree she selects a volume bound in the hides of pink starfish and slimy with algae. Opening the book you discover that it is a history of one Mandeep, a draconian dendrite who once sought to find release from reincarnation and offer her soul to the void of nothingness.
The passage you select details Mandeep’s final attempt at lasting release—a long off-white gown woven from the tendrils of poisonous jellyfish. Upon entering a lake deep within an undersea grotto, Mandeep’s record says that the dress’ poison would sink into her skin and obliterate her soul, granting her true death. After reading the passage you look up to see the siren gazing at the water of the lake with bitter reminiscence. Taking the book from you again she wordlessly escorts you into the grotto.

Saturday, June 27, 2015

:: Random NPC—Yale, Bórean Dendrite ::

Yale (“Fertile Upland”)
by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/25/15

a bórean
Race: Bórean
Age: Adult
Gender: Female
Stature: Short
Physical: Small Head
Outwardly: Paranoid
Inwardly: Desperate
Profession: Physician
Magic: Dendrite—Awakened
Animal: Lion “Caerwyn”
Catchphrase:You there. Is the Winslie village up ahead? Tell me truths or I will know! Hurry, speak!”

As you leave the Winslie village toward the Dreaming Desert you see a strange sight; out on the horizon a silhouette wavers in the heat. You take it to be a lion, but struggle to understand why it has the upper body of a snouted creature, complete with two massive clawed hands, growing out of its neck. You shake your head, wondering if the sands have already begun to take hold on your mind. Regardless, the silhouette is fast approaching.
When the beast reaches you at last, your eyes correct themselves—it is not one beast but two. The snouted creature turns out to be a bórean with an exceptionally small head. The mole-woman reins in her snow-white mount and hails you from a cautious distance. “You there. Is the Winslie village up ahead? Tell me truths or I will know! Hurry, speak!”

Friday, June 26, 2015

:: Random Location—Pillars of Qilak ::

Pillars of Qilak
by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/24/15

a seraph
Monument: Henge
Nation: Seraphim
Condition: Wild, Elaborate
Weather: Thunderstorm
Color: Light Brown
Keyword: Awesome

After strapping the pirium-wrapped bracers to your arms you tighten the pirium-toed boots on your feet to ensure they don’t fall off mid-flight. The company of seraphim surround you, caked in the light brown mud significant to their religious rituals. The lead escort gives you the nod to activate the levitation gear. Doing so, you rise with them into the night. Lightning flashes in the distance and the thunder soon follows, cracking and rumbling across the cloudy sky as if in recognition of the seraph who lies dead high above.
The funeral site is composed of a levitating henge of pirium pillars encircling the sacred space, blue electricity infrequently snapping between them. In the center hovers a pirium bier, bearing the body of the slain. All around, the attending seraphim don their pirium circlets, glowing brightly in the night, making the scene feel somewhat like a candle-light vigil in a human cathedral. When all have gathered an elaborate ritual begins, thunder rolling after each plea to the Strangers of Darkness. At last, all seraphim close their eyes and the pirium henge is lit up by a web of blue lightning. When you look again, the body of the deceased is gone.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

:: Random Item—Maya's Molten Hide ::

Maya’s Molten Hide
by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/24/15

Materials: Copper
Culture: Draconians
Condition: Short/Wide, Dull
Color: Dark Brown
Keyword: Reckoning

Following the earth-shaking bangs and clangs coming from around the bend, you emerge from the gorge in time to witness a reckoning of an epic scale out on the sand dunes. The combatants are two ajagara avatars; one of metal and one of crystal by the looks of them, both snarling with lethal intent. Around them are gathered armies of their younger draconian kin, all gnashing their teeth at their rivals. Though the champions are formidable, the battle looks to be near its close.
You watch as the dragon made of violet crystal clamps its teeth down on the polished copper neck-plates of the other. A noxious fume rises up from the wound as the polished copper begins to tarnish and turn a dark dull brown. The copper dragon opens its mouth and shouts, a bolt of lightning flashing forth. But the arc forks wide, striking the crystal dragon’s kin with devastating results. The crystal avatar turns and roars, unleashing a spray of foul-smelling steam over its opponent. When the cloud clears, all that remains of the crystal’s rival is a bubbling puddle of liquefied copper.

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

:: Random NPC—Devadas, Draconian Shaman ::

Devadas (“Servant of God”)
by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/23/15

Race: Draconian
Species: Chameleon
Age: Old
Gender: Female
Stature: Average
Physical: Hunchback
Outwardly: Languid
Inwardly: Ashamed
Profession: Potter
Magic: Shaman—Spirit Guide
Catchphrase: “About time you got around to breaking open the door.”

You reach forward to open the entrance to the steppe pyramid, but instead of swinging inward, the whole slab falls backward, slamming with a heavy crunch, splitting into several uneven pieces. Wincing, you gingerly step over the rubble and enter a small antechamber where stands, shelves, and hooks are burdened with an overabundance of simple red-clay ceramics, a ghostly mist swirling inside of each.
You press further, into a slightly larger chamber—what appears to be a ceramist’s workshop—complete with a potter’s wheel, piles and piles of red clay, and an empty bed. “About time you got around to breaking open the door,” says a voice from the bed. Only after you look more closely do you see that the bed was never actually empty; it’s occupant had simply been so well hidden by natural camouflage that you had not noticed her before. The old hunched draconian sighs wearily as she rolls into a stooped sitting position. “Go on, then,” she says as if you’ve been well acquainted for years, “let’s hear what you have to say.”