Our word for world was Ranais. It meant “land” in an old language that no one spoke anymore. It was a rich, thriving world, with wide seas and wider continents over which us humans had spread. We ruled the lesser creatures of the world, taming animals and cultivating plants. We learned, we built, we fought. We died and were born. We gained knowledge of the other worlds, the world Heavens, the world Hells, the worlds Cogs, Chaos, Gray, Spire, and the rest. We didn’t explore them much, content as we were with our beautiful world Ranais.
This is the introduction to a sect I am developing. They are a planar group dedicated to finding the "relativity" of all things in the multiverse. It is their philosophy that should one learn about the weave of relativity that lies behind all creation, then one will truly understand the interconnectedness of all things in creation.
I intend to create several more, when the campaign resumes in late January 2005, but for now, I present these three artists in the hopes that you might find them of some use in your campaigns should the need arise.
It was my intention with this article to address the issue of what the judges in the Fraternity are wearing while sitting on the bench in the Central City Courts. I've modeled the details conerning the Guvner judicial attire along the lines of the English judicial system dress-code as presented in an article I read several years ago from the 'New York Law Review'.
It happened rather unexpectedly. A God was responsible for the resurrection of a Signer. It was Her first of such practices She'd believed. The final End for the Signer had come quickly upon him... Death smiled... He had claimed his next victim... She reached out... reached with Her great and divine ability...
While travelling home on the train from work (a great place to do some good quality thinking BTW), I began thinking about the concepts behind a book on the belief of samsara and the Indian philosophies that I am currently reading. I started to consider the aspects of belief beyond the whole notion of samsara, specifically, it's relation to the philosophy of the Godsmen. I thought about the idea that life is the forge that shapes one in each incarnation, constantly testing us to attain greater levels of power.
Somewhere in the distant past... an illithid slave world on the Prime... It's dark and it's cold. All round me is the persistent sound of dripping sewerage... at least, I think its sewerage. I just can't see anything in this infernal darkness. It certainly smells like it though... You'd think the tentacle-heads would treat their meals a little better than this...
The blinding, healing, throbbing chaos of Limbo is vast and infinite, containing sights unimaginable anywhere else. In their ceaseless quest to slay their eternal foes, the illithids, a few brave and foolish rrakkma hunters have made the transition from their native land of chaos to one even stranger, walking the gibberling trails back to the Far Realm itself.