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Ted's Profile

Our Author's latest news and articles.

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Ted - Social Profile

- Savant Scribe of the First Highest Order

For Next Level: 12983xp of 26075xp complete.
12983xp

Hall of Honour

16 HoH

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5 Quests
- RANDOM
Articles | 55xp

Why is Ireland such a Hotspot for Supernatural Activity?

I can explain! Really! (Note: This is for my Demon Hunting Campaign set in 1640's Ireland, so here be campaign specific dragons.)

- RANDOM
Articles | 115xp

Ways to die

In the game of paranoia, the damage tables for falls lists heights up to ‘orbital'

- RANDOM
Plots | 85xp

Agency 17: It's a Diplomatic Thing

A combination planning/game summary submission with some details about what I'm planning for the next one as well.

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Guilds
“ Five main ingredients were used to create this noxious, real-world (ridiculously named), chemical compound, featuring sulfur as the main ingredient. The odor was said to be akin to rotting refuse, decomposing carcasses, and fecal matter. 'Who-Me?' Was developed during WW II by the OSS to aid the French Resistance against the Germans. The idea being to utterly humiliate and ultimately demoralize the enemy by making them stink of garbage left to rot under a hot sun. The bizarre experiment did not last long however as 'Who-Me?' could not be administered on select targets (controlled), without making everyone in a certain radius, friend, foe, and sprayer alike, stink as well”
Murometz
“ The Wizard-Brewers of the Old Empire stored memories in bottles of mead, passing their brightest ideas, most subtle magics, and most important decisions on to their heirs in bottles of oddly-flavored honey-wine. A cache of these ancient magical vintages has been unearthed, but does anyone dare drink from it? The ancient mead's creator is a complete mystery, as are the thoughts he left behind.”
Wulfhere
“ What a narrow street! The bowed windows of the upper floors encroach on the view of the bowed windows opposite, making it all very dark and shady down here in your carriage. You feel it slow down and stop, and there are raised voices outside. Craning your neck out of the door you see a smug cartsman ahead, whose cart is blocking just enough of the narrow street to make your passage impossible. He appears to be waiting for you to move, but your driver is hurling abuse at him and your horses are getting restless...”
ephemeralstability
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