Kalrad

The following was discovered at the scene; - A porcelain snail flower pot, - A digital audio recorder, - A note left written by one; James [name omitted] Closer inspection shows the pot is filled with rich, well fertilized mulch and a single flower growing out of the center of it that smells of decay. The pot itself looks to be a cartoonish snail, folds of the porcelain act to make it seem as though it were frozen in motion, a small smile brightening its face and two small eyes just above the mouth. In any case, the pot looks to be what any proud owner would consider cute. The next item to be inspected was the note; written as if rushed or s

       The Inquazi tribe, a peaceful village of Native Americans who believed that their efforts were blessed or chastised by a beautifully diverse set of Gods, had a role to play in the life of a legendary creature. The Inquazi held, in great esteem, a powerful sorceress named  Ash Dancer whose control over fire was believed to be a gift from the tribal God of Fire. Her prowess made her the target of many power hungry chiefs from rival villages, the most dangerous of which was the Ekichoket tribe. The chief of the Inquazi tribe, fearing war, convinced Ash Dancer to sit down with the Ekichoket chief to discuss the possibility of marriage to s

After enough time dealing with anxiety, I have decided that the best way to combat it is to let my frustrations out into a forum where I can voice my aggressive opinions and mundane ideas. But the problem there-in is finding the words that articulate my thoughts in just the right way to convey the stresses and irritations that cause my anxiety to flare up. So what should I talk about? How about the most recent addition to the controversy wagon; ME!ME!ME!. This video... I don't think I can describe the severity or the viscosity of the bile that wells up when I see the first act of this video. Heart burn feels like a trip to the Andes' compare

Invariably, the most irritating part of growing up has to be finding your own path to follow. It seems as if everyone wants to blaze their own trail and lead their own collective to whatever they personally define as victory or contentment. How many people really take a look at the world around them and find happiness in the lack of truly original ideas and material? Even if you can not leave behind a legacy of truly unique accomplishments, it should not detract from your own belief of achieving something positive or victorious. Humanity has a finite pool of... things... that are possible, and as we look to the stars and give ourselves the mo

Frosty air tickled life back into him, forcing him to draw in a sharp gasp, his eyes popping open to see snow dancing to the ground, flakes landing in gentle heaps, melting into small pin drops of ice around his rapidly cooling body. He sat up, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling his body quaking with eager terror to regain the warmth that the plummeting temperature had stolen from him. His muscles worked hard to awaken and generate heat, growing sore much too quickly for his liking. The ragged cloth that clung to his frame barely kept the chill at bay, snow melting and soaking into the bare material, adding to his decrepit state. He ca

Grinding through hours of rogue irritation, losing no less than seven characters, and finding myself very close to throwing my phone across the room, I can honestly say that Pixel Dungeon is the most fun I have had with a phone in years. The last time was with a racing game - the name of which eludes me - on an older phone I had before my service contract expired for the year. The great love of mine that is PD is filled to the brim with old style rogue dungeon crawling, like in Dungeons & Dragons: Eye of the Beholder for the SNES. That feeling of making mild headway through tight corridors and overly vacant rooms, and early monsters that are

Gru’lorg shifted slightly, opening his eyes to a room completely black and white to his eyes, all lights turned out and an unfamiliar weight on his right arm. He turned his gaze, finding a Half-Orc woman pinning his arm down under her head, her right arm over his chest, her fingers bent slightly at his side as if trying to grab hold of him and keep him from moving. Her left leg rested across his legs, bent at the knee with her foot resting on his shins. He tried to remember how he had gotten into this situation to begin with, where this Half-Orc had come from and how they ended up in a bed, post-intimacy. He closed his eyes, letting his

'Damn it, Sarin!' Veil telepathically screamed at a young mage, a blonde, lanky male who was currently suspended within a large ethereal form. Gru'lorg caught the blade of a longsword with the flat of his axe head, a blade that had sliced his left arm open from his shoulder to his bicep, his blood flowing slowly, dripping to the cold cobblestone of the streets of Caliphas. Sarin's translucent monster looked to be the cross of a bear and a gorilla in the way its torso and limbs were situated, its head looked like that of a dragon's head that was erupting from a furred body and got stuck after its eyes emerged from the form. Two tentacles swaye