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- High Lord Scribe of Mastered Illuminations

For Next Level: 23475^xp of 74645^xp complete.

23475^xp

Hall of Honour

Golden

Quests

Organizations | 200^xp

Dark Gnomish Evil or how to improve a hopeless race

Whether in pencil-and-paper, or on the computer (Baldur's Gate, Icewind Dale), we've been plagued by the gnome stereotype of foolish inventor and chaotic law-infringing businessman. I guess it's time to change that. I've decided to throw a bone: help me make the gnomes a race worth featuring in an RPG.

Organizations | 140^xp

The Gauran Dau

The beast within became the beast without; ferocity and might blossoming in corpore upon the flesh.

Systems | 250^xp

Theories on Art and Magic

The mind of a wizard is more open to the more esoteric elements of his surroundings - this is why he is able to perceive the weave of the Great Tapestry that is the multiverse, and pull at the strings. This increased sensitivity can manifest in several ways.

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Guilds

“ Goblins originated the idea of meat on a stick. In larger towns, goblin vendors can be seen hawking their wares, a variety of animals skewered and deep fried. Almost always tasty so long as you dont ask too many questions.”

Scrasamax

“ It was common belief in medieval times that goods and property could only be affected by the Fair Folk, the faeries, if it was acquired unlawfully or unfairly.”

Drackler

“ AutoMedon A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking. 'It's strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its' workings or even if the damn thing is' Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman”

Jarons20