:: Random Item—Shuriken of Twilight ::

Morgan had studied in the Temple of Hibernation for a time, learning martial arts like her mentor, Master Chandra. But only after Chandra met her death in the jaws of a jealous Ajagara did Morgan come to discover her true destiny; that of a medium—a connecting link to the world of spirits.

:: Random Location—Fairgrounds of the Emerald Overlord ::

Fairgrounds of the Emerald Overlord

by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/16/15

Attraction: Maypole

Nation: Ranai

Condition: Barren, Maintained

Weather: Strangely Cold

Color: Emerald Green

Keyword: Overlord

Ignoring the signs that clearly discourage wandering off the path, you leave the well-traveled road behind and plunge into the forest. You abruptly stop short as a piercing pain shoots through your foot—a razor-thin blade of grass has lived up to its once-metaphorical (now literal) description. Looking closer, you see that the blade retains the vibrant green of grass, but now shimmers like a perfectly cut emerald, and—as your foot can now attest—is just as hard.

Proceeding on stilts as you were wisely instructed, you enter a clearing full of such emerald grass. Within the clearing, you see a joyous celebration in progress—children playing field games, maidens dancing around a maypole, and vendors selling sugar crystal candy. At least, you assume it was sugar crystal candy at some point, just as you assume the occasion was joyous… You shiver in your skin; everyone and everything in the clearing has been turned to hard, cold emerald...just like the grass.

:: Random Location—The Lincean Lexicon ::

The Lincean Lexicon

by Wm Jay Carter III, 6/12/15

a zephyr

Attraction: Aviary

Nation: Leonian

Condition: Simple, Charred

Weather: Nor’wester

Color: Salmon

Keyword: Lexicon

Rubbing your head, you awaken to the howling of the wind as it blasts across the treetops, shaking the leaves in a raucous rustle much like the roar of the ocean. You discover that your bed is actually a large wooden platform swaying high above the forest canopy on a pole thicker than the trunks of the surrounding trees. There are no bars, no walls to hold you prisoner; only the staggering height and the blasting wind.

As you look around you see there are other platforms, other prisoners. One is a desperate siren with salmon-colored scales, busy pleading with her platform in a language you don’t understand. As she turns, however, you realize that she is not a siren but a zephyr whose wings have been clipped, explaining why she had not flown away already. Likely the blasting wind is her vain attempt to topple her pole and secure a gentler descent.

Another platform bears an actual córean, asleep, wings also clipped. A third is empty, but the charred black patch on it makes you think a phoenix might have been there once, its wings also clipped no doubt...before it burned itself alive and its ashes were scattered. Well, you reason despondently, at least it escaped.