A Continent of Banalities

(The following is inspired by a piece of art by Evlyn Moreau. Follow her Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/evlynmoreau/posts) Some say she is the mother of all bats, daughter of Luna, the warm embrace of night, or the promise of the world made bearable by darkness. Other call her vampire, mother of demons, sister of Lilith. Her worshipers flock to Conal County, Texas to worship at Bracken Cave, where her offspring hang by the millions. In Yunnan province, China she is the bringer of five blessings or disease. In Spandau Citadel in Berlin, her offspring is said to spell out her secret name as they swarm under the castle’s vaulted ceilings. Used with permission Whatever her true nature, she is a nurturing friend to all bats. Humans she tolerates, if they show respect and kindness to her charges Winged Embrace The simplest of the Mother’s blessings is simply her embrace. Thosewo invoke her will feel enveloped by mighty wings and clutched to a furry bosom. Th...

1) Remember that you are not alone. There are legions of people out there who suffer as you do. Strike up a conversation with one. 2) Say to yourself “I belong in the space I occupy. I push myself to new accomplisments”. 3) Get a parrot. It echoes your words without the burden of an intellect. 4) Take pleasure in your indistinct reflection in storefront windows as you pass by. Like a real person, you are in motion. You are accomplishing things. You do not obsess. 5) Avoid mirrors. They are likely to make you ruminate upon certain parts of your face. Remember: an imagined flaw is as painful as a real one. 6) Drink coffee. Fetishize it. Say things like “I need my coffee” or “I don’t know what I would do without coffee”. 7) Avoid prolonged contact with dogs (and certain breeds of pig). They pick up on so much. 8) Remember to cycle between over-preparedness and procrastination. You need both to maintain your position. ...

The blinding incandescence was diminishing in strength, and I stared at the figure in the doorway. It, he, was a chicken. Ain't no two ways about it. A chicken the size of a six-year-old with yellow feathers, a broad-brimmed hat and a rapier. I was still considering the distinct possibility that this was the onset of of DT. God knows that my body's got more than enough reason to rebel. I've not treated it like I ought. Some mornings I've half-wished that it'd up and leave, like my second wife. Back to the chicken. He removed his hat from his head with a rakish gesture and smiled. I's never considered that a chicken could smile, but it seemed appropriate in the situation. I must've been quite a vision in my strappy t and sagging undies. It was a condescending smile. ”I have a job for you” he said. ”I have been de-niched, and only now have I realized what I must do to set things right!”...

In the ancient city of Attica Acratopotes was hailed as a demigod and drinking brother of Dionysos, god of wine, grape-harvest and estatic madness. Now it seems that the doughty drunkard is gone. No one knows if knows if evil killed him, if excess was the culprit or if his friend tore him asunder in a fit of divine insanity. It seems that everyone has an idea though. His liver has surfaced on the Astral Plane, the graveyard of gods. It has attracted a motley assembly of religious oddballs, the culinarily adventurous, and those who grasp for anything to get a better lot in life. The Liver of Acratopotes is a Troika! (or Advanced Fighting Fantasy) setting, inspired by mythology, westerns about prospectors and the planes of many D&D editions (including but not limited to Planescape). Roll d66 to get a character background 11: Luckless Barge Captain You lost you ship in a game of cards, or possibly dice. You were good and soused, and the others must have been...