The Campaign Builder's Guild

Quote from: Phoenix KnightFafnir?  As in the dragon?  Funny, I never pictured him with orange juice...And with PTS, that's great!  Oh wait, I'm guessing your fafnir isn't a dragon...oh.

Or is he...? :D

QuoteAlthough I could definately see a modern-day dragon hording credit cards and checkbooks instead of gold and silver... I wonder how many of those have been canceled due to theft?

Definitely. As to the latter, lots probably. Poor Fafnir, his wealth is an illusion.

The spiders whisper: "More, more, more". I...I can not obey. Instead a brief...interlude...

With sun's warmth wasted on a stone,
Gray the cloud-like oaks
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled
Away from their profundity of surface.
One flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast;
III. Earliest Recorded Northern Explorers: The Greeks and the Vikings
Snow haze gleams like sand.
More beautiful than anything in this world.
Covering the land�br> My only thought is for what has
Lucky the bellë¾±till full and deep of throat,
The weight of being born into exile is lifted.
That desire has ever built, have approached
P�e and M�e Chose could be in conversation
With its lament, it often sounds, instead,
That neither the motionless farm couple trudging
With a hand freed from weight,
Right, and appears from here to be overcome
Place of absorbing snow, itself to be

My hands are stained now, with the Bloodink...God no!

Disturbing material below...both to read and write. You've been warned.
___________________________________________
Sometimes it seems as if the world itself lashes out...

â,¬Å"Come childrenâ,¬Â, she said ushering the twelve or so dirty orphans hurriedly into the Waifâ,¬,,¢s Home. Her hands shook as she stole a final glance back into that black sky. The sky she would never forget, the sky she would never speak of again. With a shudder, the heat in her spine finally reaching her skin the matron locked the massive oaken door. â,¬Å"Go to bed childrenâ,¬Â.

The sky itself turned black that day, not the rumbling darkness of storm clouds or the deep satin of midnight, but a glossy almost obsidian black. Like an ugly mirror it showed all those that looked peered up that day their darkest desires, panned across the heavens like a twisted painting.

She sighed and forced herself not to watch as the orphans stripped off their ragged clothes and climbed into their twelve or so little beds. To see that would only make her crave them more.

What caused the â,¬Å"Lecherâ,¬,,¢s Lidâ,¬Â that afflicted the whole Northern Hemisphere on that deathly day is yet unknown. With dawn, it was dispelled and never again came. And yet on that one night crime rates tripled across the afflicted countries. The most twisted dreams of ten million people, shown only to them, were at last acted upon.

She could contain herself no more, and throwing back the curtains to gaze at the mirror of her secrets in the sky. The matron turned from the window and shifted out of jacket and coat, in moments, her caution abandoned her as completely as her clothes. With a last tremble she slipped under the covers of the youngest boy.

Disturbing indeed, but I'm actually glad to see that someone is willing to tackle things that are truly sickening for the sake of realism and expanding a setting's repetoire of darkness.

Keep it up.

Disturbing and yet it has all the creepy implications of a Brother's Grimm tale.

... before they cleaned them all up.

Bastards.

[ooc]Antara has become more of a mind exercise and less of a setting to me. It's just not holding my interest. If somehow, someone is interested enough just bug me and I'll spill the dark on Antara. But it's pretty much lights out.[/ooc]