A Continent of Banalities

The Gnomes In Wästland they call them kabouter, in Galgenbeck gnomes. In the following we shall use the latter. Gnomes are possibly maggots in the flesh of a pre-creation giant, or a failed attempt hidden underground, in favor of humanity. They do not age or change. They are barren. A gnome is about the size of a baby. When seen above ground their skin has the bruised quality of a newborn. Their hands are webbed and clawed and clotted with dirt. Gnomes seem ill-formed and twisted, like something stillborn. Their teeth are sharp and uneven like those of a pike. Their beardsare like porcupine quills. Their eyes shine. Gnomes hate us like neglected children hate a favored sibling. They hate us for the Sun, which they cannot endure. They hate us for the children they cannot themselves conceive. Gnomes in effigy Gnomes steal infants and toddlers to raiseas their own. In the child’s place they leave a cunning automaton, created in their subterranean workshops. The automaton, o

Greshkil, The Vivisectionist Ogre Greshkil grew up too fast and grew too big. Perhaps it is the cursed nature of Bergen Chrypt, perhaps just another sign of the end times. One can look for causes until one goes mad. By the time he was ten, Greshkil towered over every man in his village. His mother had mercifully died soon after birth, but his father joined the other villagers in shunning him, even to the point of pelting him with rocks and filth when he showed his face. So, Greshkil grew up alone and often cruelly hungry. His mind, which may have been a prodigeous as his frame, warped. His size was the problem, that much was clear. Where did growth come from though? Greshkil had learned to set simple traps, and in his solitude grew ever more proficient. At first he merely captured animals to eat, but soon he grew fascinated with their complex insides. There were organs for blood, for breathing, digesting, making sounds. Where was the one for growth? Then people from the vi

Note: the maggot has a guest starring role in my Esoteric Enterprises campaign. Players take heed.  The Prophet Fly and the Singing Maggot The adult prophet fly is about the size of a fat pigeon. After all there is enough rot and corpse-meat to dine on in our afflicted world. Workshy scholars with nothing better to do have determined that the prophet fly can see up to five minutes into the future. It deftly avoids calamities which no one could have foreseen, save through a miracle. This means that it is next toimpossible to catch, except in cases where the weather (which it can predict but not prepare for) has made the animal sluggish. Some cunning individuals have tried keeping it as a pet, tied to their person with the finest string. Using it to predict dangers to their safety has met with very limited success. It turns out that a bound fly’s instinct isto flee, prophet or not. The larval state is much more interesting. The singing maggot is about

The Driftwood Prince He rose out of the Endless Sea and hid in the shadow of a simple fisherman. The fisherman is a hollow shell of half-remembered mannerisms, and his words are those of the prince. He cannot die while the Prince lives, but is that really a life? The Driftwood Prince is a creature of the sea, and of dreams. Avarice is his one human trait, and even that is incomprehensible. What use would he have of riches? Some say that he hopes to amass enough wealth to ransom his sunken realm from the gods themselves. While he prefers the ostentatious and ornate, the prince will stoop to shake down a beggar as readily as rob the treasure chambers of kings. The Prince only exists once his host has taken something of monetary value from a person. Until that happens he can only lurk in the fisherman’s shadow, using him as a mouthpiece. This means that he might exist for one person, but not another, even if he stands before them both. The Prince may be bought off with riches

Beyond the sea are towns with towers, carved with lions and lily flowers, And not a soul in all those lonely streets to while away the hours. James Ellroy Flecker - The Gates of Damascus I've decided writing up a monster a day for a month. They're using Mörk Borg stats, but are easy enough to use with other games. I'm using the term "monster" quite loosely. Thaarn, The Ghost Town Thaarn is the ghost of a town. It was conceived by Konelius Ulstrang, a master architect whose grand designs never left his mind. Thaarn is his masterpiece, a marvel of ivory, slate and dark wood. It floats, unadmired, in the space between this world and the next.  If you come across it in an unguarded moment, it will imprint on you. From that point on you live in Thaarn. No matter how far you travel Thaan will be there to meet you at day’s end. Even if you sleep rough in the forest or among the hills, you will wake up in Thaarn.  The town is a thing of beauty, with spi

Meet Cute You play Love, Doom and Science. You have 3 pts each. For one point you can create a Sweet Coincidence (love), a Brutal Pratfall (doom), or Magnify something (science). At 0 pts your funding is cut. You must make a meet cute happen, fail, or serve as an example. These two? Don't get a say. Fortune's fool.